#they really said lets give the roy kids one happy moment and then fuck them over huh

[eriochromatic]

Maybe the poison drips through

Succession 4x10 “With Open Eyes”

#succession #kendall roy #roman roy #siobhan roy #shiv roy #logan roy #tHE ENDING??? THE FINALE?? YALL.... #it was perfect but also sad but bittersweet but also poignant im #MANY THOUGHTS HEAD FULL #i honestly love how open ended it was #also i love drawing people upside down so #obligatory upsidedown post haha #they really said lets give the roy kids one happy moment and then fuck them over huh #erio art #erio stuff #i am in the camp of kendall gets therapy (actual useful therapy) #roman gets to live his life w/out burden #pls i feel so bad for shiv it feels like she took one for the team #all her brothers were free of their shackles #but ironically shiv who started as an outsider became trapped instead.. #THIS FINALE WAS JUST SO GOOD UGH

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e6 recap: bite me

happy international workers day, girlies!!

let's celebrate by watching billionaires be responsible for multiple SEC violations!

the bitch is back.

shitting on his children even from beyond the grave.

the video in question: logan speaking of their new product, living+, which will play a surprisingly large role in this episode, given we've never heard of it before.

shiv has a private jet rendezvous with mattson. they both excel at flirting:

mattson: we're buddies, can we talk? shiv: no, maybe i fucking hate you.

true romance<3

mattson tells her about the CE-bros and their little freakout on the mountain, which is the opposite of what her brothers eventually tell her during the meeting with the inner circle.

ken and rome, still adamant about tanking the deal, tell them that elon musk mattson is unstable and druggy etc etc etc --

somehow, i don't think any of them are buying it.

shiv sure as shit doesn't buy their bs.

this is the comeback i've been waiting for.

roman immediately makes his sadboy face and asks for a hug, because all he wants is love, but my heart is starting to harden. he is truly in his flop era this episode.

shiv pencils in 20 minutes in her calendar to cry.

i love you, shiv roy. ilysm, but you will never be holly hunter from broadcast news.

cry-time is briefly interrupted by making out with the future ex-husband she absolutely hates.

we've all been there.

roman has to deal with hollywood.

he is not pleased.

i can sense the utter distain jesse armstrong has for hollywood through my screen.

the hollywood exec pushes one of roman's buttons (lots of them lately) and he fires her in a way that reminds me of logan, but also doesn't. i have a feeling logan would send "the help" to do the dirty work for him?

roman's firing spree begins. we all know where this is headed.

kendall is being annoying.

asking too much and telling your staff they can never say no?

just a regular day for me, working with politicians.

also, a fucking minefield in terms of sexual harassment, don't we think?

anyway, he wants to play house on stage and fudge the numbers and be the cringiest of cringe. let kendall be kendall, i guess.

tom and shiv hook up twice in this episode????

unrealistic.

also they bite each other.

i shouldn't have to elaborate on that.

ken and rome are still working on their "tank the deal" plan and so far the road ahead seems very realistic and not at all like the potential symptom of bipolar disorder.

for once, greg is of use and summarizes their strategy pretty well:

bla bla bla business talk bla bla bla i don't care.

roman contemplates his own mortality, as one does, and thinks there should be some other option.

death is, after all, very much one-size-fits-all.

and where does he want to end up post death, you ask?

inside a tortoise 👀

conveniently, gerri calls him in for a talk to chat to him about some very serious issues, such as:

roman is shocked to know he can't just do whatever the fuck he pleases. but that's what my dad would do, he says, to which gerri responds, but you are not your dad.

i think we've hit another button..........

and gerri, having zero fucks left to give, does not hold back.

uh oh.

and thus, roman's firing spree continues.

i'm broken.

and also mad.

i know there are probably some readers of this recap not entirely obsessed with romangerri (but really, do you exist?!), but i just have to say, please endulge me.

we're just over halfway through the season and gerri's been fired twice. let me wallow.

kendall, however, is thrilled about this unhinged energy:

"fucking eat greg" is perhaps the funniest thing he's ever said.

meanwhile, after sleeping together, shiv and tom share a heartfelt moment.

just kidding.

tom says he loves money.

how gauche of him.

the set is not up to par for our mate kendall over here, so he morphs into joni mitchell for a short sec:

I'VE LOOKED AT CLOUD FROM BOTH SIDES NOW!

where are the clouds from berlin?? really makes u think:(

luckily, he can fudge the numbers some more to elevate the stock price to distract himself.

the sibs, however, notice his erratic behavior, and shiv convinces rome that this whole presentation is not a good idea.

and despite the eventual outcome, i think they are right, given ken's track record.

karl has a spine conspiracy?????

it feels good having the old guard telling the kiddos how they truly feel.

in the back of his mind, all karl is thinking about is that greek island. that's queen shit.

kendall goes on stage alone, because roman really doesn't want to wear his stupid pilot jacket.

he interacts with a video version of his late dad, which of course shows a man that is so very stable.

best roman quote of the episode: if i cringe any harder i might become a fossil.

gerri agrees, but in a more resigned way:

couples who hate on kendall's speeches together, stay together<3 (this is what denial looks like).

my summary of kendall's presentation: starts out shit, then he pivots into karolina's script and it's fine, and then he plays the dead dad card and we can't really argue with that.

living+ is still a fucking shitshow imo. not sure if i would go as far as mattson, tho:

yikes.

leave it to the swedes to underestimate nazi discourse (please don't come for me swedes, you know).

greg unfortunately has the best line of the episode:

and turns out, it is very much true.

tom channeling his inner oprah was not on my 2023 bingo card.

and they all agreed ken did a great job.

and karl devolves into his usual, spineless self:(

i have a feeling this all means an end to whatever sibling solidarity we've been seeing, given shiv and roman's reactions.

roman comforts himself by listening to what is basically an AI generated clip of his dad saying he has a small penis.

shiv and tom seem to decide to keep it all business, but also not??

it feels more or less like a high school relationship to me at this point. i love it.

and we get a clip of kendall in the water, but he didn't die, so i couldn't use one of my precious screengrabs on that.

you all should probably thank the tumblr gods that they have a 30 image limit on these posts.

see you next week for the afterparty, featuring more scandis for me to make strange references about!

#succession #succession hbo #succession season 4 #succession spoilers #brian cox #logan roy #kendall roy #jeremy strong #shiv roy #sarah snook #gerri kellman #j. smith cameron #karl muller #david rasche #tom wambsgans #matthew macfadyen #roman roy #kieran culkin #nicholas braun #greg hirsch #frank vernon #peter friedman #alexander skarsgard #lukas mattson #hugo baker #fisher stevens

[parvuls]

obligatory 6am episode thoughts (and MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TED LASSO SPOILERS)

so far it's ep2 > ep1 > ep3 imo. this episode was basically the start of various plotlines but didn't have any big moments for any of them, so it's a little 🤷

ngl, hated zava with a passion and all of his scenes were cringe and boring to me. we already went over the dick star player arc in season 1 with jamie, and zava purposely has less redeeming moments (because he doesn't have a three-season story ahead of him). this plot could only be interesting if it leads to a break in format or character development: ted yelling and giving up on a player / rebecca firing him despite the wins because she cares about the team / west ham drama.

I was SO FOND of colin and michael in this episode!!! they were sweet but not over the top and those moments were literally so far removed from the rest of colin's scenes in the ep, which just stresses how long colin has been hiding this. really liked michael coming to sam's restaurant and their collaborative cover story, because I'm pretty tired of gay relationship drama being one dude angry that the other one is "ashamed" of him. framing the media as their enemy and not each other is a good start.

speaking of which: trent. big sigh. could SO see that plot coming from all of the interviews mentioning trent as both a good and bad presence in richmond. idk if he'd actually out colin, because it'd be hard to come back from that in the eyes of the audience, but there's definitely drama coming and SOMEONE is going to either out colin or threaten him with it, leading to him coming out himself. could be rupert, and that'd be the start of nate realizing he's gone too far. either way that's one plotline I'm hella excited for.

that being said, if michael ends up outing then, I'm 🤡

I simply do not know what to make of tish's predictions. rebecca being upside down and drenched is foreshadowing the amsterdam episode, and whoever saves her (probably ted) would be the knight/shite. but being a mother? obviously not biologically, since hannah explicitly said it's no longer an option. so... tedbecca future???? I'm not even a shipper, I honestly can't see who else she could adopt. rupert's daughter somehow? idefk

jamie was my fave this episode, followed closely by roy. thank god for that bromance, and all of jamie's sudden vocabulary moments were laughing out loud funny. praying for a shot of him reading a dictionary and explaining his sudden word knowledge 😂 am Not Amused at the scene by the bar where keeley looks at them both, but we shall see. I'm actually kinda here for a jamie/shandy thing? their vibes sort of fit lmao. also YES to sam and his chef falling in love. let the man have some happiness and normalcy!

the ted/sassy ongoing hints confuse me, and their purpose escapes me even three seasons later. remind us ted can fuck? I don't feel like it's an endgame thing.

I'm not touching the jake thing with a ten feet pole, jfc. jake seems like a nice guy in theory, but going out with your patient/marriage counselor + not telling your co-parent that you're bringing a new man into your kid's life? no. michelle is on thin ice with me.

#that's it I'm tired I'll think harder later #ted lasso spoilers #text

[hacash]

ted lasso thoughts 2x07

ok. ok. ok let’s do this. ok.

OWCH.

ngl, this one was hard to watch. Nate has been my favourite main character from the get go and it is brutal to see him as we are - both because how he’s been treating other characters (Colin’s face when he insults him! Will’s hopeful little smile when he suggests the ‘Wonder Kid’ shirt!) and because it’s so obvious that what’s fuelling this behaviour is nothing short of some obviously crippling self-esteem issues and anxiety. 

And how many people want to slap Papa Shelley in the face right now? Your son gets on a national paper and you can’t even acknowledge it?

There were so many heartbreaking little moments that I think are showing the cracks - Nate spiralling when he sees one negative tweet, pulling a face at the craft box, the ‘you don’t inspire, you do the job’ clearly projecting from himself - and the fact that people just ain’t seeing the problems….argh. It’s so understandable and makes so much narrative sense that Nate would go from victim to bully, but that doesn’t make it easier to see. That being said: we’re in the dark forest, we knew it was going to hurt, and I’m willing to bet the show knows precisely what it’s doing.

Also that last scene being all off-screen? Damn fine directing.

Seriously, I have so much Nate meta atm and it keeps on coming, so apologies to my followers for that.

I’m massively revisiting my ‘rewatch Colin’s scenes for sheer entertainment value’ policy after this (but hey, we always have him rapping in 2x06) but that was fully mitigated by the apology hug. I personally didn’t see this as a ‘Nate publicly pressuring Colin to forgive him’ scene so much as a ‘Nate making himself vulnerable in front of the whole team and opening himself up to public reprisals from an entire team of footballers’ scene, and Colin’s grin and immediate cuddle with Nate definitely sold it for me.

Higgins and Rebecca took a back seat today, but the jazz scatting was hilarious. And I love that Higgins is now comfortable enough to take the piss (gently) out of Rebecca’s relationship fears. (Also ‘my marriage is the oxygen that gives me life?’ SIR.)

The smoking room and Higgins bringing along a pipe was a thing of beauty.

Oh TEDDDDD. Those therapy sessions were so good to see - even if I maintain that I would actually like, you know, to see some of the actual therapy and get a full breakdown of each of our characters’ deep emotional problems - but there’s so much you can see in Ted’s avoidance, his anger, his flight-or-fight responses. There’s a lot to unearth here, and we’re just scratching the surface.

For a character who I was fairly neutral on initially, Sarah Niles was fantastic in this episode - Sharon doesn’t change, exactly, she’s still the same professional, skilled therapist, but the subtlest changes in her voice and manner show that she’s here for Ted, that she’s providing a safe space. And I love how she provides a few glib phrases - ‘the truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off’ ‘to be your mentor, I also sometimes have to be your tormentor’ - for Ted because if there’s one thing he likes, it’s a bit of wordplay. The woman knows her audience!

Roy and Keeley’s argument and make up was really well written: it was great to see Keeley as more than the ‘fixer’ of sundry problems but dealing with her own stuff, and that bath was super fucking hot. I do think Keeley could have apologised to Roy for discussing their issues with pretty much everyone but the cleaning lady, but all in all it was a lovely storyline.

Also never has the phrase ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every fucking where’ been more appropriate.

‘Will, do you think you could take my name off my shirt and make it bigger?’ OH JAMIE. Even though he’s changed so much, I’m so happy that in other ways he really really hasn’t. And who had ‘Jamie inadvertently fixes Roy and Keeley’s relationship’ on their Ted Lasso bingo this week?

That scene with Sam and the boys checking his messages was pure *chef’s kiss*. I love that we have a little core crew now (Sam, Dani, Isaac, Colin, Jamie, Richard, Zoreaux, Jan, and Bumbercatch) with…uh something of a hivemind and about one braincell between them. Also how very dare Jamie and Rebecca not acknowledge Ratatouille as nothing short of cinematic poetry.

Still worried about Sam and Rebecca though!

ETA: how could I forget Trent Crimm: The Independent blatantly checking in on Ted?? I was beginning to miss this man and his beautiful hair.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #the little things

[ratcourtjester]

What the hell do you even get rich people for Valentine's Day? Hal thought turning the little stuffed bear in his hand. The eyes were off center and it was holding a bright red heart that had the phrase 'I love you BEARY much' embroidered on it. Definitely not. He shook his head and put the poor thing back on the shelf before he decided to do it the favor of putting it out of its misery. He wished someone would have the courtesy of putting him put of his already. The store was packed with last minute shoppers and all the good stuff had been picked over already. Hal wouldn't of bothered if his boyfriend hadn't invited him out to dinner that night. A freaking Valentine's Day dinner. What was this, high school???

...Okay that felt a little harsh. Honestly, Hal didn't have anything against the Holiday. Free candy, quick hook-ups and half priced chocolate the next day? Honestly what wasn't to love? But he was actually in a relationship this year. And not with Carol who practically expected him to screw up on Valentine's Day (harsh but not exactly unwarranted) but with the goddamn Batman. To be fair, he probably also figured Hal was going to screw it up. He still wasn't 100% sure how this had all happened, really it was a blur of arguments, very close calls and some absolutely fantastic sex and then boom! He was meeting the guy's kids (officially) and they were living together (unofficially). 

It hadn't been all bad actually. Bruce was just as difficult as one could imagine when dating a bat-themed vigilante but if the man had Hal this stressed out about a commercial Holiday as nauseating as Valentine's Day than it was pretty safe to say Hal lov-

Lo-

...had strong feelings for him. After all, Bruce wasn't Batman all the time, though one would be hard pressed to get the billionaire to admit that. He was caring and tender when he felt safe enough to be. And alright he had a decent sense of humor. And he was fucking gorgeous to boot. And rich. Very, very rich. That had never really been a factor in what Hal found attractive in people but it certainly didn't hurt. It also, apparently, limited options when it came to getting them gifts.

He sighed looking at his cart filled only by two five pound bags of mixed candy and relented, taking the bear back off the shelf and tossing it in. Cass would like it at least.

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

Two hours later, Hal was no closer to figuring out what the hell to get Bruce and was running dangerously close to being late, the chances of him getting laid that night getting slimmer and slimmer with every tick of the clock. He ran his fingers through his hair, gelling it back and looked himself over in the mirror, inspecting his face to make sure he hadn't missed any spots shaving. 

"Not bad, Jordan, not bad at all…" He hummed to his well dressed reflection. He wore a deep red button up and his nicest dress pants. Red wasn't normally his color but he figured he might as well be festive. Even if he didn't have anything to give. He sighed again deciding the flowers he had grabbed were going to have to do as put his cufflinks on. They had been his father's and he only really pulled them out for special occasions. He paused. In fact, the last time he had worn them was at Jim's wedding. It took him a second to let that sink in. As much as he had been telling himself it was just a date, he had almost subconsciously grabbed something he hadn't worn in almost a decade. Maybe this was more important to him than he let on. He looked over to the roses taunting him and groaned.

He was such a bad boyfriend. 

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

Surprisingly, Hal arrived in Gotham just in time. Despite spending most of his off time in the Manor these days, he had opted to go back to his apartment when he got back on Earth just before he got the dinner invitation. If it bothered Bruce, he hadn't mentioned it in the few days in between. Letting the construct that made his suit up drop he landed within walking distance (but out of sight of prying eyes) of the manor and made the rest of the treck on foot. Alfred answered the door with a look that practically demanded to know why he even bothered knocking anymore at this point which he just answered with a grin.

"Hey Al, happy Valentine's Day." He said, fishing the tulip bulb from the bag of goodies he had brought the family. He figured the butler would enjoy the addition to his garden. 

"To you as well, Master Jordan." He took the plant with a small thank you. "Master Wayne will be down in a moment he's taking a call in-"

"Hal's here!" A shout from the staircase interrupted the family butler and him and Hal looked over just in time to watch the oldest launch himself over the railing and land with all the grace of an acrobatic cat before bounding over and enveloping Hal in a hug.

" Master Grayson ." Alfred hissed looking thoroughly unimpressed with his actions. Dick grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he let the older man go. 

"Sorry Alf, guess I just missed him."

"You saw him a week ago." Duke snorted coming out of the den but gave Hal a grin anyway.

"Are these for us?" Steph grinned, suddenly at Hal's side and going through the plastic bag as Alfred rolled his eyes and took his duffle bag for him. She pulled out the little monstrosity of a bear and her eyes lit up. "Oh, I love this guy. He for B?" She teased.

"For your girlfriend actually. Figured she'd like him more." He said, snorting as Cass took the little bear from the blond and gave him a small smile. "You're welcome, kid."

It wasn't long before the rest of the little bats tore into the bags of candy he had brought with the exception of Jason, who was out with Roy, and Dick, who left for his own date with Wally shortly after greeting Hal, and ran off. It was another ten minutes before Bruce came down, looking slightly irritated. However the look softened once his eyes landed on Hal. "You look nice." He commented.

"You look pissed." Hal countered and got an eye roll in return.

"Nothing you did." Bruce said, placing a hand on his hip and a kiss on his cheek, taking the offered flowers before pulling away smirking. "For once anyway."

"Hilarious, Spooky." He snorted and looked the other man over. He looked fantastic, no surprise, wearing a suit by some designer he definitely couldn't pronounce the name of. God this man was out of his league. He was ushered out with mentions of a reservation and a shout from Tim to 'have him home by midnight' soon after.

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

In the months since dating Bruce Freaking Wayne, Hal had been treated to restaurants where he was sure the food cost more than his rent. Tonight was no different. Marble floors, molded walls and food that he couldn’t pronounce with his high-school level French, no expense was sparred. Hal still wasn't sure if these restaurants made him feel out of place or not but it definitely didn't make him feel any better about not getting B anything for the holiday. Spooky didn't have to be the world's greatest detective to pick up something was wrong.

"We can go somewhere else." He offered, sipping at the water the waiter had brought him. Hal shook his head.

"Its not that." He said and sighed when Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting him to continue. "I got you flowers."

"Yes and they were lovely." 

"No. I only got you flowers." Hal said in frustration. Whether he was frustrated with himself or Bruce's knack for being intentionally obtuse. "Not even from a real flower shop. I got them from the store because I didn't know what the hell else to get you. Because what do you get a billionaire? You could just buy anything you wanted-"

"Hal-"

"And its not like I could have taken you out somewhere instead anyway. Can you imagine the headlines in the gossip rags if you were caught slumming it with me somewhere-"

" Hal ," Bruce said a little firmer this time, stopping Hal from putting his foot in his mouth any further. "I didn't realize how much my financial status bothered you." And that tone was much too close to Batman for Hal's liking.

"It doesn't." Hal said firmly, trying his best to be reassuring. "I just...I didn't get you anything." And Bruce stared at him, calculating, forming his next plan of action. That look made Hal squirm in away that should of been uncomfortable. Especially since he just knew that was the look he had while wearing the cowl. Finally he spoke.

"You did. You got me flowers and you came here with me. I only asked for one of those things." And weirdly enough, that made Hal relax. The weight of expectation lifted from his shoulders. "Besides," Bruce continued, smirking over his glass. Hal raised an eyebrow and the smirk widened knowing he had the pilot's attention. "You can make it up to me on the way home."

Hal choked on his wine.

#batlantern #bruce wayne #hal jordan #batman #green lantern

[battle-of-roses]

When Rome Burns : Part 1

TW : Logan Roy's A+ Parenting, Manipulative Logan

By @your-gay-cousin-clover

---

With a certain hint of trepidation, Tom starts dressing himself to meet up with Shiv in downtown New York. The plan was pretty simple for the day: meet up with Shiv, find a gift for her father, put on his best Midwest honourable fellow personality and charm the pants of all her family. He stopped for a moment in the middle of his bedroom, standing there in his white button up, boxers and black socks, biting his lip on whether to take the gold ring, he’d picked out a week ago, to the party. After all this time he had spent with her, ever since their whirlwind romance in Hong Kong, he was sure that she was the one for him. His soulmate, the-one-who-he-got, his loml. The question was of when?

The party would be a good place to propose. Lavish surroundings, her entire family, and a pretty pricey ring to show his commitment to her. All eggs in your basket, he’d say if- when she said yes. And it would all be fine and okay. He starts to daydream for a moment, his dreams flying higher than just becoming Logan Roy’s son-in-law, maybe he’d join in the business himself. He would swoop in, take over one of the main branches of Royco, maybe ATN and continue the family business until he had his own billionaire kids à la Shiv.

Beep! Beep!

His fantasies suddenly dashed down into the floor. He jerks and reaches to the phone on the table to receive the call. It’s Shiv.

“Hey honeybee,” he says in a sweet-syrupy tone that he hoped conveyed his affections accordingly.

“Where are you?”

He immediately frowns. Her tone is clipped sharp, a razor’s edge, threatening him to not speak a word off their usual script.

“I’m … ahh… just getting dressed. Oh, oh, how formal is the even supposed to be? Do you think I could sneak in a tartan tie pattern to impress your Dad?” He tries to detract from her irritation.

“The fuck, Tom? Don’t be silly. Just wear whatever you want, you’re not a pre-schooler. It’s a formal event, but don’t wear anything weird or embarrassing.” Her words just kick up a latent anger in him that he press down as per usual. It’s alright, maybe it’s her job that’s got her stressed.

He tries another jovial voice for a size. “Ok, love-,” he continues, but there’s no Shiv on the other side of the call. Just him and the dial tone mocking him.

Right.

Nothing weird or embarrassing.

He drops the ring into a drawer of his bedside table and shuts it close.

—

The day goes in its own pace and Shiv makes a hasty apology about her signal getting dropped in the elevator. He waves it off, he always goes. There’s no use holding on a grudge with his future-wife-to-be, on silly things like one too many passive aggressive words and brushed off endearments. And so, here he is now. Standing in the middle of an opulent penthouse living room, chatting pleasantries with Marcia, hands sweaty as he tightens his grasp on the gilded box with the watch.

It had been pretty expensive to purchase on his own. He and Shiv were comfortable, sure. But they - no, he wasn’t Olympus rich like the Roys, America’s number one conservative messiah. He hopes it’s enough. Enough for a job at ATN, enough for Shiv, above all, enough for Logan.

His fucking future hung on a balance because of a little ticking metal machine.

Ding!

There. The elevator’s number stuck still on their current floor and his breathing picks up. Everyone else collects around the door to waiting as the metal door open, but he stands back, alone. For a split second, he’s swallowed up in all the gold, gild and glamour around him and he simply can’t breathe.

He sticks out like a sore thumb in the middle of all this. No matter how brave, how much of a fucking asshole he pretends to be. He does not deserve to be here. He’s what? Got a few hundred thousand in his savings, while collectively in front of him stands the 3rd richest family in America. He just wants to bolt and never come back.

And in the same fleeting moment, the doubt hastily vaporises as Logan Roy himself steps into the view amidst loud yells of “Happy Birthday!”.

The moment he sees Logan, it’s something of oh, that echoes in his head. Like oh, he’s just an old man. And he indeed looks frazzled, startled by the sudden cheers. But he whispers something to Marcia, who takes his coat and hands it off to one of the numerous maids hurrying around the house.

And then he straightens up to face the crowd. There’s something in his eyes that makes Tom want to shrink back against the patterned wallpaper. Something fierce, something very calculating. He watches as Logan makes his way through the crowd of his children and nods absent-mindedly at everyone’s greetings.

“Shiv,” Logan says, turning to Shiv, his back to Tom “Where’s Wambsgans? I thought we invited him.”

Shiv’s expression falters for a second, perhaps debating whether her father’s joking or not. It’s clear, he’s not, when the beat of silence extends between them. She smiles back again, radiant. And gosh, Tom loves her so much.

“He’s behind you, Dad!”

Tom didn’t have much time to be mortified as Logan turned to him and stuck his hand out to shake. Awkwardly balancing his watch box on one hand, Tom tries to make grip firm and solid. Logan gives him two shakes and quickly removes his hand.

“Wambsgans, you’ve got a strong grip. Trying to break an old man’s hand, eh?”

Fuck. Of course, Logan Roy would be above all masculine handshaking bullshit that the Wall Street posers were really into. Logan knew he was the king of the world, didn’t need to prove it to any Tom-Dick-Harry on the street.

Logan’s already turning away from him, but Tom tries to swallow his foot down the throat trying not to make his first impression even worst. He lets out a laugh, but winces internally. Too braying, too harsh, too corny.

“Well, you’re not that weak, Mr Roy-“ He tries. He does. But Shiv already looks disappointed and Logan’s barely listening to him. His time to prove himself is running out.

Ding!

Everyone turns to look at the elevator again. Kendall Roy steps out the lift with his ex-wife and children in tow. He’s wearing that same black blue outfit combo, just like the one on Forbes, proudly declaring him as the HEIR WITH THE FLAIR. Tom has read Kendall’s entire wikipedia enough times to know that the stress marks and the lack of the photogenic smile was simply because of his age.

Drugs - Divorce - Demotion.

Yet like every American hero billionaire, Kendall got the second chance that could only be afforded to the rich and now, most probably, he was going to the Successor to the entire media conglomerate. Even then, Tom wouldn’t say that he exactly envies the other man.

“Ken!” Logan’s voice somehow sounds surprised as well as disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d come. Did we close the Vaulter deal?”

Kendall’s stance becomes a bit wooden as he reaches down to accept his father’s embrace. His ex turns to Marcia and hands off a wrapped box with a pleasant smile. The kids run off with Grace’s kid and Kendall stands there looking a bit unsettled as he answers “oh, no, no Dad. They’re still hammering out the details. I took a break to wish you on your birthday. Not sure how many more there might be.” The conversation mills a bit around the two, everyone leans in a bit to hear.

“You did?” Logan repeats with furrowed brows. “Well, where’s your cousin? I thought he’d rather come than you.”

Kendall looks taken aback for a moment. Everyone tries another round of conversation, but Tom simply nods along to other’s words as he tries to figure out information about the cousin. A cousin? Shiv’s never mentioned a cousin being involved in … well, anything.

“Greg?” Kendall asks, his voice uncertain. Logan looks him in the eye and shares a sardonic grin. “Yes, Greg. Unless Marianne happened to suddenly stop by. What’s he doing? Wasn’t he with you this morning?”

Kendall seems to shrink into himself under his father’s gaze. “Greg’s..” he starts and stops for a moment. “Greg’s with the team in the building. He wanted to finish the deal before joining the party.”

“Shame.” Logan says, “But good for him, as soon as we wrap up this deal the better. Anyway, kids, can I talk to you alone for a moment? I just want you to sign something.”

All of them exchange glances with each other, the meaning of which Tom is too novel to understand. All of them quietly follow in the steps of their father. The rest of them stare.

“So,” Marcia says, clapping her hands together. The sound echoes in the eerie silence devoid of birthday wishes. “Let’s get started on lunch shall we?”

—

On the way to the “game” which was highly requested in a cult-like chanting, Tom abruptly turns to Shiv and asks “I didn’t know you had cousin working at Waystar?”

She ceases typing on her phone and looks up with pinched brows, seemingly in thought. Tom watches the city go by in a blur from Shiv’s side of the window and waits. “

“Oh,” She says “You mean Greg? Yeah, he’s like my second cousin. Uncle Ewan’s only grandson, although I don’t think he’s seen them since he was ten? He’s chief strategist at Royco. You’ll see him soon enough when you join.”

A when, not an if. And immediately, Tom’s heart lifts. He fights a grin on his face and catches Shiv’s eye. She smiles a bit, the stress from her face falling away for a second and turns back to her phone.

All was well.

—

All was not well.

Tom kind of looks like an idiot. At least in his own head, he’s been lugging around the watch box the entire evening. Right now, he’s standing behind Logan and Shiv like an obedient puppy waiting for Shiv to call upon him. The rest of the family is setting up the baseball game while the groundskeepers looking on fascinated.

Tom pretty much feels like them.

“So, about Tom,” Shiv says and Logan seems to be considering her words. Tom’s ears pick up, his hands turn sweaty again and he fidgets with the box in his hands. He imagines he can hear the watch tick inside like a time bomb.

“Hmm…” Logan replies, peering out into the distance. Kendall’s already gone into the wind, about half-an-hour ago, his ear glued to the phone talking to “Greg”. Tom waits for that syllable to end and simply waits.

“What do you think about putting him under Greg?”

Despite the short distance between him and the duo, he hears an undercurrent of something sinister his way. Something almost amusingly cruel.

“Wh-why Greg? Isn’t that - like isn’t he already busy with the buyings and everything else? And surely you don’t expect Tom to be his assistant? He’s much more experienced in business.” Shiv’s protest add a bit of tension to his mind.

What was the deal with this Greg? It was almost as if he was some kind of a boogeyman to Shiv and her siblings. But someone that Logan clearly approved of, but there was something very odd about the whole missing cousin.

It was as if being put under the cousin would somehow be bad for him. Geez, was he some kind of a hardass?

“No, no. I’m sure Greg’s not to busy to welcome your boyfriend into the family business. He can help guide Tom and put him in a fitting department. Not to busy to help family.”

Tom expects Shiv to say something. To put off Logan’s plan and for a moment, she does. But instead, she stops and frowns.

A beat.

Tom takes it as his cue to step in with the box.

This better work.

—

#ficlet #part 1 #When Rome Burns #WIP #writing wip #tomgreg #tom x greg #Greg Hirsch #Cousin Greg #Tom Wambsgans #partial Tomshiv #Succession #Succession HBO #alternate universe #AU

[enbies-and-felonies]

Heather

@illavarasi @lemontarto @clearlykeefitz @book-limerence @sprintingkoala @anna-without-an-e  @everyonehasthoughts @ultralazycreatorfan @vibing-in-the-void @impostertamsong @littlemisscupcake @keeper-of-the-lost-queers @dragonwinnie @an-absolute-travesty @callas-starkflower-stew

~writing strike is over~

Summary: Fitz watches as he slowly loses Keefe, based off of this post.

warnings: internalized homophobia, swearing, general angst (and a rant that ties in heavily to current events) and caps (yelling)

~I still remember, before I brought her to the cities~

He was beautiful. Fitz had told a joke and now Keefe was laughing, and he was beautiful. Fitz wondered why his father had glared at the two men they had seen kissing at the Atlantis tea shop they had been visiting that evening. Kissing Keefe would have felt so. Right.

But he was only thirteen, so what did Fitz know?

~you and I together / you said we’d be forever, and I had hoped it was true~

“Another pair of crush cuffs,” Keefe said mockingly, but his smirk betrayed his words.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna wear them anyway, I don’t like her.” He didn’t like any of the girls.

“Well why not?! I’m sure-” Keefe paused to read the cuff’s, “-Azula is a darling girl.” 

“I couldn't care less. Girls are too... complicated. I’d much rather just hang out with someone I already know I like.”

Keefe flopped onto the bed beside him, “Like your best friend? Who got you all the ladies to begin with?” He turned over to his side and waggled his eyebrows at Fitz, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Girls break people’s hearts. They leave.” Fitz said. Not my heart, he thought.

“Well, I’ll never leave you, Roy. We’ll be forever besties.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~ only if you knew, how much I liked you / but I watch your eyes as she / walks by ~

“So Foster was obviously not sleeping, like she always does, and I-” 

Keefe was rambling about Sophie, and Fitz’s heart was breaking. It was breaking and it didn’t matter because he was gay and he could never have been with Keefe anyway, but why did Keefe have to love her? Why couldn’t he just stay with Fitz forever?

“-but I guess it didn’t matter because after that she looked at me with those doe eyes, and Princey? I think- I think I might be falling for her.”

~replacing me in your mind, smile brighter than the sun in the sky / she’s got you mesmerized, while I’m crying~

“Hey Keefe, do you want to hang out tonight? I got this super cool elixir from Dex, and I want to see how it turns out. It would be perfect for pranking your dad.” Fitz smiled hopefully. Sure, Keefe liked Sophie, but they were still friends, they could still-

“Sorry Roo, another time? Sophie and I, and Linh and Marella, are gonna go to Atlantis to check out this hair stylist. Sophie wants to see me in braids, and I don’t trust Biana with my lovely locks. I didn’t get this head of hair by trusting lesbians with it after all.” His eyes twinkled like they always did, and Fitz swallowed hard to ignore the twinge in his chest.

“No problem, Keefe. Another time.” His eyes prickled as the imparter went dark.

He wondered if Keefe remembered letting Fitz place a misshapen flower crown on his head after Fitz had painstakingly done small braids in his blonde hair. He wondered if he even cared.

~Why would you ever kiss me? / I’m not even half as pretty~

Fitz breathed in the sweet smell of Panakes flowers as he held Keefe’s hand, their fingers loosely linked.

“Hey, let’s dance.” Keefe tugged him to his feet, and Fitz dragged his gaze away from the stars.

“Why?” He asked, laughing, “We don’t even know how to.”

Keefe only grinned in response, so Fitz rolled his eyes and stood, placing his right hand on Keefe’s left shoulder and blushing when his breath hitched as Keefe placed his hand fully on Fitz’s waist. His ice-blue eyes twinkled and he smirked.

“I’ve got you, Roo.” He whispered, and Fitz let his heart race as Keefe pulled them close together, chests brushing, the side of his cheek brushing against Fitz’s ear.

And they danced, swaying gently back and forth, the only music the in-sync beating of their hearts.

Eventually Keefe drew back slightly, just enough to look Fitz in his teal eyes.

“May I...?” He whispered, breath feather-soft against Fitz’s lips. Keefe’s grip tightened on his hip as Fitz nodded, and he leaned in.

The brush of his lips was like a memory, and Fitz found himself closing his eyes as his heart burst into a thousand different colours of love and wistfulness and he felt complete and shattered at the same time-

He blinked as he woke up. A tear slid down the side of his face. He shut his eyes tight, trying recapture even the slightest moment from the dream, but it was gone.

~you gave her your artwork, its just pen and paper / but you like her better / (I wish I were Foster)~

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately, Wonderboy. What’s up?” Keefe lay on the floor, legs swinging as he sketched something. Fitz looked up from his book ‘Wuthering Heights’ (a human book that so far had been nothing but depressing) and sighed.

“I haven’t been sleeping well, and I don’t know why.” Half-truth, since he really hadn’t been sleeping well, but he knew exactly why. Just like he knew Keefe probably wouldn’t push it.

Or maybe he didn’t, because the next words out of Keefe’s mouth were, “Really? There seems to be more on your mind than just that, Roy.” He looked up from the paper and blew a strand of hair from his eyes.

Fitz closed his book. Convincing Keefe was going to be harder than he had assumed.

“I guess... I don’t know. I’m just...” FUCK FUCK FUCK, WHAT SHOULD HE SAY?! 

“I’m worried about the future. I mean, how is being thrown into one of the biggest historical upheavals going to affect us? We’re just kids!! But we’re being expected to fight these people, and the adults around us don’t even help us the way we need them to?? Years from now, will it even be over? Why do WE have to be the ones to change the world? 

“They don’t give us authority, but they burden us with responsibility. Do they honestly think it won’t affect us? The world is going to hell and we’re still expected to do good in school and keep our heads down like it isn’t OUR future that’s being shitted on. Like the people who have the power to do something aren’t sitting on their ASSES doing absolutely fucking NOTHING?!

“People can make as many fucking jokes about us being lazy, when in reality we’re fucking world weary at an age where we’re not even old enough to fucking DRINK.”

Damn, maybe he was better at covering the real reason for his sleep than he thought... At least this part wasn’t a lie.

“Fuck, Fitz. That’s heavy...” Keefe rolled over and sat up, “That’s what’s going on? Fuck, if I knew that I wouldn’t have teased you about it.”

 He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but the words changed before they came out, “I kinda feel the same way. I just don’t know what to do about it, so I make jokes. It doesn’t always help, but at least I don’t have to face the fear that.... well, y’know.”

They sat that way for a long, silent stretch before Fitz cleared his throat.

“Whatcha, um- What are ya drawing?”

Keefe looked at Fitz’s eyes another long second before picking up the piece of paper and studying it. “It’s a drawing for Foster. It’s when we rode on Silveny to heal her abilities. I figured it’d be a good gift since I plan on... I mean, I’m gonna try to ask her out.”

Oh.

Fitz forced a smile, “It looks good,  Keefe. She’ll love it.”

“You sure?” It was one of the only times Fitz had seen Keefe nervous, and for a moment Fitz was tempted to shout ‘NO, of COURSE not’ and jump across the room before tearing it to shreds, but then he was overcome by guilt and he nodded.

“I’m absolutely sure, Keefe,” He stated, voice thick, “Cognates, remember?”

Keefe took a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks Wonderboy.” He smiled and tucked the picture into his pocket.

Fitz turned back to his book, the tears in his eyes blurring the words into a mess.

~ Oohhh, Oooohhh, wish I were Foster~

She said yes. Of course she said yes. Keefe was perfect for her, and everyone could see it.

And Fitz was happy for them -they were his two best friends!- he just. Wished that it was Fitz that Keefe had been happy with. Wished that it was him that he had loved.

#heather by conan gray #heather #songfic #my writing #fanfic #keefitz #keefe sencen #keefe #fitz vacker #sokeefe #fitz #sophie foster #sophie #cognates #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc #writing #conan gray #oneshot #kotlc fanfic #felony writes shit

[do-not-careissa]

Now that Men in Black has reinvaded my mind so have new plot bunnies. So have 2 Jason joins the min ideas/options.

1. Sort of a Mr and Mrs Smith type thing, jaykyle, only sadder and angstier:

Post death and resurrection Jason wasn't picked up by Talia, instead it was MiB. Using their alien tech they're able to heal him and put his mind back together. They know who he is, just like they know who Bruce and the Justice League are (for how much the Kents believed no one noticed their sudden baby acquisition, they were wrong. MiB's known all along, if anything they're the reason the Kents and other alien adopters and adoptees have done so well at staying hidden.) They give Jason the choice to either return to Bruce, go with a normal family (in both cases he'd of course have his memories wiped), or stay and work with them. Now while Jason might not have the Lazarus Pits affecting his emotions and mental stability here, he's still a teen/young adult (say like 18 or 19 by the time he's healed enough to leave) and his last memories of the bats and his bio mother weren't exactly the greatest. Add on top of that the feeling of being forgotten/replaced that would undoubtedly come at seeing the addition of, what, at least three more people to the batfam. He doesn't believe there's a place left for him there, decides to stay, at least he can do some good while he's at it.

Cut to a few years later, Jason's moved up the ranks, he's one of the organization's best agents (could be just that branch, division, or overall) but of course the job doesn't really leave much for certain other needs. So on his rare time off he'll slink off to this nice bar or something and just enjoy himself, feel human, all that good stuff. And that's how he gets involved with a certain Kyle Rayner. The guy seems normal enough, an artist with laughably bad pickup lines but a smile and eyes that make you want to laugh with him rather than at him. They have a night together, and that one night turns into two, then three, and by the fourth Jason's sure he's making a mistake here. Regulation says to keep contact with non-mib individuals to a minimum and don't give them a reason to remember you if you have to interact more than once. He shouldn't be doing this, really, but he's also given up so much over the years, both to mib, to the bats, to the universe, can you really blame him?

Between the two of them rain checks are a regular, either one or both claiming a sudden work trip that couldn't be skipped. It made Jason guilty every time but he couldn't just not go. This was his job after all. And Kyle, well he was just a normal guy who happened to be a bit loose in the head sometimes, it made sense for him to forget to call off meetups and hookups, that's just what normal people their age did right? It takes far too long for him to admit that he's in too deep, that he's fallen for this loveable dumbass. But the same could probably be said for Kyle too.

The moment they meet not as Jason and Kyle but as MiB and Green Lantern you could hear a pin drop. Jason couldn't believe this, not in a million years. Kyle? A fucking Green Lantern? Are you kidding?!

Because you see, while the general population and even the capes might be unaware of MiB, MiB is more than aware of them and they have a very big problem with them, especially the Lanterns. Because they know the GLs and Guardians would argue that earth is their terf and that minehas not right to set up rules and protocol, byt MiB has been on Earth longer, they've existed since Roswell if not earlier, GLs haven't touched Earth til maybe 15-20 years ago. And MiB's work is to protect not just the humans of Earth but the aliens who've made a home here, or even just those ones that are here for a visit. Thanks to the GLs, and by extension the Justice League, not only is MiB and its agents in so much more danger of being exposed or attacked, but so are those aliens.

Suddenly Jason's happy go lucky secret relationship has been soured if not ruined. Kyle, he'd trusted him, even l-, he actually liked him as more than just a fuck buddy, but this? He's devastated, he's angry, and while he's sure Kyle's feeling something like that too, he doesn't get to, not when he's siding with the group putting innocent people in danger, not when he's siding with the bats and Tha Guardians and everything Jason stands against.

He manages to catch Kyle off guard, taking him down and neuralyzing him quick enough that him can't take him down too. It hurts to see that blank look take over Kyle's face once the light fades, but he can't let that affect him. Kyle made his choice, and he needs to make his.

Idea 2: much angstier in the "fuck Bruce and the JL" sort of way

Post rhato 25 and Roy's death, Jason's health is deteriorating quickly. Maybe he lied about how well he was out of guilt so Roy wouldnt feel like he had to stay with Jason instead of going to Sanctuary. Now with no one there to help him, along with the mental and emotional toll, Jason's body is shutting down. This is it, he's accepted it, he fucking hates that this is how he goes, but well, it's kinda poetic that Bruce would ultimately be the reason for his deagb this time wouldn't it? Between the physical injuries he gave Jason and the mental ones he's caused, everything all ties back to Bruce.

So Jason's just there, accepting his fate, but then out of nowhere these suits just show up and they've got an offer for him. They know who he is, what he's gone through, they know how to help him and keep him safe. They can heal him. But the only way they can let him know exactly what they're doing or who they are is if he joins them. They say they've been watching him for a while, we're actually planning on approaching him, but the situation with Batman and now with the League and Jason's health has pushed their time table up. He's obviously skeptical til they really go in on everything, breaking down mib, breaking down what they try to do, and you know what, he's in. Fuck Bruce, fuck the JL, fuck them all.

None of them stepped in to help him, none of them did anything to stop Bruce, no one except Roy, Roy who's now dead because of them. They don't get to tell him what to do anymore, they don't get to control him.

So they bring Jason in for the procedure, and there's a few ways this could go. A) They just use whatever alien tech they have that heals him no issue, maybe need to replace a few bones or joints or something, whatever it is he's healed. B) they need to meld his DNA to a sample from an alien species that heals quickly (personal favorite, could go down the route of this giving Jason superhuman abilities, or even something akin to energy absorption as the reason he's able to heal which would make him a massive threat to everyone especially the gls (imagine him just draining their rings in minutes and then using that power against them)). C) the Lazarus Pits are actually of alien origin, and since Jason's already been dipped in one before and had his brain and body altered/healed by it, it still remains dormant in his system, they just need to activate it.

Whatever they do it works, and soon enough we get Jason as MiB and Bruce and the others all believing Jason to be dead ala MiB​ tricks. Months or even years later there comes a confrontation, the "I thought you were dead!" Shit. Or the GLs/guardians learn about them and try to impose their bs on them, try to scare them into disappearing, and guess who MiB sends to deal with them? Why their star agent of course.

#hoping to at least write something for that first one #just struggling through the words like usual #jason todd #fic ideas #jason as mib

[miss-choco-chips]

Robin and Red X

Just a silly thing I wrote for @animemangasoul. Hopefully this makes you laugh a bit, hon! No edit whatsoever.

The titans were having a difficult time reconciling their easy going, funny, sure of himself leader with the hot mess in front of them.

“Uhh…”Wally, the bravest of them all, places a careful hand on his shoulder. “Maybe we should… call your dad?”

Robin turns to look at him so fast it almost looks like his neck broke. Beast boy screams, turns into a rabbit and jumps into Raven’s arms, because the sound that came from Rob’s mouth wasn’t human at all.

“If any of you call Batman, I’ll personally ensure living hell for everyone in the Team. This is MY case!”

Wally hastily retreats, hands up in a surrender gesture. 

“Okay, okay! I’m just saying, chill. This Red X dude has been giving us all too much trouble, maybe Bats could point us in the right direction or…”

They think Dick said ‘no’, but it was more of a demonic screeching.

“But we’ll respect your wishes! Because you are our friend!”, and you scare us shitless, he added in his mind. 

Roy signaled at Wally, the moment Dick turned his back to them again. Something like ‘are we calling the Bat anyway?’, to which Wally replied ‘I don’t have a death wish, fuck no’.

They never really get around to capture Red X, but no one dares to bring up asking Batman for help again. The mysterious anti hero keeps kicking all their asses each and every time they face him, always having a countermeasure for their specific powers or abilities, but honestly? He’s not as scary as an unhinged Dick could be, so they’d rather fight him than wait for bathed breath for Dick’s revenge if they went behind his back to solve the case with his old mentor.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Jason hasn’t inherited the Robin cape from his predecessor. Dick wasn’t happy, seeing a new kid using his suit without permission, when he himself apparently hadn’t been ready to let it go.

But Jason wanted to be Robin. Needed it. All the good he could do… the people like him he could help… This was his chance of doing right. Of proving the world (proving himself) he was not like his father, a complete and utter trash that belonged in the dumpster that was Arkham. That he, a street rat, could be a hero.

So he fought for his right to the mask, even if he sometimes felt the itch to go wild and do his own thing. Because honestly, being Robin was awesome, but having Batman constantly breathing down his neck? Yeah, not so much.

So when Dick, now Nightwing, approached him one afternoon while Bruce was out on business, he was both weary and desperate for some distraction.

Which was exactly what the dude provided.

“What I’m going to show you”, Dick starts, slowly, after he’s checked there are no ears on them, ”it’s Robin’s secret. The only one we manage to keep from Batman. What our ancestors saved for us, our legacy.”

“We are the only two Robins, dipshit.”

“Shut up this is a formal process. Do you wanna know or not?”

“Just… tone down the roleplaying.”

“Fuck off, that’s the best part.”

Curiosity trumping annoyance, he watches as Dick places a briefcase in the coffee table where he was doing his math homework.

“This right here, it’s all the information, anything you ought to know about our mantle’s most important endgame. This is Robin’s never-ending mission. Our Moby dick. Red X.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Jason approached Tim with the briefcase, Tim’s first thought was ‘he’s going to bribe me’- an automatic response after working on Wayne Enterprises for months now. 

The second was ‘he has someone’s head there hasn’t he. Am I going to be an accomplice? What crime was this, and can I hide it from Bruce?’.

The third and final ‘maybe I should ask him first’.

His -thankfully sane now- predecessor reached the little nook where Tim had tucked himself, in hopes of staying hidden from Damian long enough to enjoy the mannor’s wifi without having to stand his bitching. He sits cross legged in front of him.

“So. Give me all you have on Red X.”

This was… unexpected, but not unprecedented. The family tends to think of him as a convenient alternative to some criminal wikipedia sometimes. 

Obediently (because then he’ll get to go back to his research sooner), he rattles out what little he could scrounge on the antihero. It was, admittedly, not much; any younger hero had not heard of Red X, as he’d been dormant for some years now, and the older ones were forbidden to talk about him by Dick himself. The first Robin had claimed ownership of the antihero, and anyone caught working on his case without his permission would find themself with their life turned around  in the most inconvenient of ways before they could even finish burying the evidence. With Bruce taking a neutral stand on the matter, merely respecting his son’s wishes, no one was willing to risk the fury of someone with Batman’s resources and knowledge.

Except, apparently, Jason, because he was opening the briefcase and turning it in his direction.

“Let me tell you a lil story, that Dickie shared with me some years ago. I wasn’t a good predecessor for a long time ‘ere, Timmers, and I wanna make it right by properly passing this on. The true legacy of Robin; the mystery of Red X.”

“I… I’m not Robin any longer”, he blurted out, though his fingers twitched to touch the contents of the briefcase, to go through all that juicy, sweet treasure.

“Doesn’t matter. Dickie gave Robin without your permission, but this… this only I can pass on, just as you can only pass it to the brat when yer ready. No one can take this away, or Dickie loses the claim he has on Red X.”

Jason opens the briefacase all the way, then.

Tim drops his coffee.

Suddenly, there was something way more important. As unholy as it sounded.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Damian was invited by Drake to their own private ‘bonding night’, he was weary but hopeful. He’d been trying to fix their bond for some time now, so he could not ruin this chance, as suspicious as it sounded.

So they watched a movie, ate vegetarian pizza (Damian felt emotions when he realized Tim knew, paid attention) and complained about their older siblings and their role as Robin.

“It’s just… a heavy burden”, he admits. If someone can understand his feelings, it’d be Timothy after all.

“I get you. There’s also the matter of Dick’s and Bruce’s expectations on you.”

“I have to be perfect for them, all the time. The smallest mistake and… I could lose my family. But I feel so trapped…”

Tim’s hand found his and squeezed it. When Damian looked up, the older teen had a compassive look on his eyes.

“I might have the solution for that.”

As if he had planned this (perhaps he had), Tim retrieved a briefcase from under the couch they were occupying.

“Dick gave this to Jason, and he to me. Now, I’m passing this on to you.”

Damian tilted his head, a bit confused.

“I.. am already Robin.”

Tim smiled and pushed the case closer to him.

“This is even better. The freedom to the bindings that come with the suit. Open it.”

Curious, still weary but unwilling to lose any ground he had gained with his brother, he obeyed.

And promplty dropped it to the ground.

“What is this?!!”

“This”, Tim smiles, cheshire-cat-like, “is the Red X costume, and all his toys. Including, but not limited to, a perfect holographic devise, to use to make people think you are fighting Red X, to clean your name should anyone suspect the truth. I’ve been using it all this last few months, to…”

“Ruin my life?!”, he yells, because it’s not a secret Red X had came back from dormancy to utterly fuck with Robin, taunting him and beating his ass at every turn. It had been doubly frustrating, because everyone refused to speak about the antihero to him, so he had no information on the man to hunt him down properly.

“Chill. I just.. needed to vent a bit. And this suit helped me, which is the entire purpose of Red X.”

“I...don’t understand.”

Tim placed the briefcase in the coffee table and inched closer to Damian.

“Dick created the alias back in the day, when the pressure of being a perfect Robin became too much and he just… wanted to fuck shit up. Unwind a bit. He couldn't do it as himself and lose all the respect from the other heroes he had managed to amass, so he needed a scapegoat for it.”

Damian felt a tug of interest in his gut. He tried to surreptitiously look at the briefcase. 

“Being Robin is tiresome. It’s too heavy a burden. Always perfect partner, always a goodie two shoes… Red X allows you to go wild, be gay-do crime sort of thing, without meddling from any other hero in the community. Burn a warehouse. Use the rocket launcher B has under lock and key. Fuck whoever dumb crimefighter  you dislike the most up. Stir shit whenever you feel life’s been too quiet. Let go and have fun... Damian, aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you just want to go ape shit?”

His fingers were digging into the suit before his older brother could even finish talking.

#my writing #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #damian wayne #red x #robin #nightwing #red robin #red hood #batman #crack #just crack guys #no plot #batbrothers #Batfamily Fanfic #my writting

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen: What's In Your Head

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite.

FemShepxKaidan

"So, I'm in the presence of the Commander Shepard?"

She snorted, politely forcing her eyes away from the beer he set on the side table. Focusing her sights out the large picture window, it was a nice day, so she had the glass door open onto the balcony. Roy already headed in that direction, leaning over the balcony.

"Nice view for a brig!"

"I'm not-," she huffed, of course, he was teasing, "it feels almost like the brig."

"But it's Captain Shepard now," her eyes rolled, "I suppose I should reintroduce myself. My name is Mary."

The name still felt thick in her mouth, she struggled to allow it to belong to her.

"Jane wasn't much better," Roy grumbled, looking over his shoulder and at the table, "you're still Recruit to me. Grab us a beer, and get out here."

"Aye, Aye Sir."

Mary slid beside him, taking in the view of the city under them. Her gaze found what she thought would be the direction of the Alenko residence. They drank quietly for several minutes, enjoying the silence.

"Am I getting that lecture now?"

The man snorted, "no, because I am one of those assholes that hoped you would come out of this alive. As Jane, as Mary."

It was Mary's turn to snort, "I was such an ass."

"A little," he let time drag out between his words, finishing half his beer in that time, "how did you manage to return to the Alliance after going MIA and walk out with two promotions?"

She grinned, elbowing the man, "you fucking- apparently commendable duty during a time of distress. I don't completely understand how they- I suppose." Her tone flipped, her head falling.

"Kid," it was like being called by her middle name, his shoulders drew, "you had problems, but everyone did. Everyone lost someone. The difference was when it mattered; you were there—doing what had to be done. Hell, I don't know why anyone looked up to me like I knew anything. Sure, some old Alliance training kicked in- but I was way in above my head. Setting up patrols, security, duty rosters- that wasn't me, that was you."

"I remember things differently."

Roy sighed before a half-laugh tumbled from his lips, "it all came that easy to you? I may have been the friendly face, but they knew you were the one running the show. Remember when that damn krogan attacked? Korvac didn't even bother with me, Wrex either. I was a useless old man," he flicked away her attempt to soothe him, "that's why everyone vouched for you."

Mary blushed, chugging down the rest of her beer, "I knew you had something to do with it."

"I really liked that Bailey guy," his amber eyes pointed at her until she met his gaze, "I would have liked to hear firsthand how you singlehandedly brought down the Illusive Man and restored the Citadel."

"That, that- that had hardly anything to do with me. I didn't know who he was, and he just attacked me. I just happened to throw him over a ledge and incapacitated him," Mary broke eye contact, staring at the empty bottle she rolled around in her hands, "the Keeper did most of the work. If you've heard anything honest about me- you'd know I'm shit with the technical side of things. I simply placed the spike."

"After jumping through the beam blind."

She shrugged, letting him grab the next round.

"Saving the Galaxy might have been a small part of it too."

Roy toasted to that.

"I owe you an apology for not coming clean. I should have, I just- I wasn't," Mary faltered again, her voice wavering, "it was wrong. Everything I was going through-"

He placed a hand on her shoulder, "I don't need an explanation. Or to hear why you acted the way you did. It's okay; you did what you could at the moment."

"What I could wasn't enough."

"How so?" he grasped that this wasn't about her time on Earth, not entirely.

She gestured out to the scarred city below them, luckily liquid did not spill from the bottle, "I should have made them listen better."

"You alone could force an entire Galaxy to listen to one person?"

Mary grunted, "but I could have saved more people. I'm sure you heard about the Alpha Relay mess. 304,942 Batarians. Thing is, I-"

"You what?"

"Part of me doesn't feel that sorry, watching those bastards kill my parents. My friends, everyone I knew- I," she shuddered, attempting to pull away from him, but he brought her in tighter, "did I not try hard enough because of my history?"

"That would be difficult for anyone," Roy kept his tone even, "but did you originally course the asteroid for the Relay? If you had not been there, would the same thing have happened? Worse, the Reapers would have gotten here earlier."

Mary was seeking condemnation. Hearing everything spat back at her with utter acceptance and truth was frustrating, almost patronizing at this point, "So I'm just freed from consequence? Because of some moral loophole? Letting morals get in the way of alliances and troops was worth it? Of allowing my love for the Krogan to be a wedge between the Salarians joining the war effort? It was all at the price of a simple lie. My distaste for Cereberus could have waited- I could have swallowed my pain, and maybe he wouldn't have gone looking for Reapers to give him answers.

It's all fucked, and I thought I was doing the right thing. But is sometimes doing the right thing, wrong? Like a friend said, 'Stand in the ashes of a trillion souls, and ask them if honor matters. The silence is your answer.' I could have saved more people. I should have swallowed my pride and done the smart thing!"

"You ever think the galaxy put too much of a burden on one person? You put too much of the burden on one person," Roy held her out at arm's length, trying to catch her eyes even if she would avoid it, "you learned an important lesson in all of this. Even the right actions have consequences. It won't make you feel better, but it's something to remember."

Mary sighed, deflating, "you're annoying."

She needed time to digest that, time to talk it out further.

"Right back at you, Recruit. You know how many of your friends I have been fighting off?"

"Can't be worse than the press, I'm glad they have me on lockdown." Her smile returned. Her messages must be going crazy, but she had to take reentry slowly. The constant evals and talking to counselors was enough to drive anyone mad. It was helpful but maddening. Mary couldn't deny she needed it to work out the guilt, disassociation, and convergence of indoctrination playing on her grasp of reality and the past.

It was more than she could handle when she was forced to take visits from councilors, delegates, and top military brass. Hackett could only stop so much. He wore out most of his favors during the war.

Her first interview, done after immense political and public pressure, had left her reeling for days.

"Tell them," her crew, her family, "I'm sorry. I just- I need more time."

With all her heart, Mary wanted nothing more but a happy reunion. To hug, dance, and cry with every single one of them. But seeing them all at once would be far too much to handle, and she didn't have the space to let herself ruminate (with guilt) over who she would allow back in first. With the flurry of her emotions so unpredictable, she had to wait. It tugged at her but it was for the best. Mary had to be selfish.

"I can pass that along," Roy smiled softly, finishing his second beer, "thanks for letting me visit. At least, I'm waiting patiently for the day you can be back with us. Evelyn, not so much."

"And Kaidan?"

"He's a little hurt. But hopeful."

Mary flinched, pulling her eyes closed tight, "if anything deserves you getting mad at me..."

"It's a cliche line, but loves makes us crazy."

"Tell him- I'm sorry too. That I'm working on it," she drew in her bottom lip, "feels stupid to say if this doesn't work out."

"He knows."

#shenko #fshenko #kaidan alenko #mass effect fancition #take me home

[goldeneyedgirl]

jaliceweek20 day 1: human/vampire

Title: Against A Wall (Part 1)

Prompt 1: Human/Vampire

Word Count: 3,851

Note: I’m going into hospital tomorrow, and I’ve run out of time to get this finished (so, so close but I need sleep). So I cut it in half in the most logical place. 

As long as the JaliceWeek Mods don’t have an issue, I’ll finish off Part 2 and upload the whole fic to the AO3 collection around Tuesday when I’m feeling human and have a decent Wifi connection.

Fifteen.

He crouches behind Dewey’s Bar, spitting blood onto the pavement, and trying to pretend that whatever is seeping into his jeans is just water, and not runoff from the reeking dumpster beside him.

It’s Tuesday night, and Tuesdays are always the worst. Tuesdays are his mom’s night shifts at the VA hospital. Tuesdays are pay-day. Tuesdays are the only day his father doesn’t pull his punches.

His left cheek and eye are swollen and split, like overripe fruit. He can’t see real well, and the taste of aluminium foil in the back of his mouth makes him suspect another fracture around his eye.  

But was it really a Tuesday night if cerebral fluid wasn’t leaking into his mouth?

He feels bad that his mother is going to walk in at five the next morning, exhausted, to find… well, to find Hettie and Flo asleep in Ava’s bed, as Ava studies and worries. To find Jasper’s bed empty, and Lydia’s too. To find the study door locked, no matter how long she knocks.

In fact, the only thing that Louise Whitlock won’t find when she gets home from work is the god-damned strength of will to leave her fucking husband.

Last time he said that to her face, she started to cry, and that made things worse.

It’s still early, which sucks. There are hours to go until it is safe to move, to drag himself to school, to shower in the locker rooms and get some food out of the vending machine and savour the fact that another Tuesday is behind him. Sheldon isn’t big enough for the other students and the teachers not to notice the bruises on his face, but it is small enough that everyone knows Jeremiah Whitlock, and no one is going to say anything to get him in trouble.  

He could go find Lydia, hide in the tree-house, tell someone who wasn’t family or a local. But he always ends up behind Dewey’s. When he was a kid, it hadn’t just been a bar; it had been been Dewey’s Bar and Grill, and his grandfather used to take him there for fried chicken and ice cream. Dewey had been his Grandpa Jed’s best friend, but even in those halcyon days it hadn’t exactly been family-friendly.

It had become a dive bar sometime around the time Jasper finished middle-school, but it didn’t matter - by then, Dewey and Grandpa were dead, and he was too busy trying to protect himself and his sisters to eat ice cream.

He spits blood again, and rests back against the brickwork. Nothing for it; Tuesdays were always hell.

—

He tries to sleep, amongst the noise of passersby, and remain unnoticed - Jasper’s learnt the hard way that his uncles still frequent Dewey’s, and they will march him straight back home for round two, no matter what he says. Even when he came up with the strength to tell them, about Lydia and Jerry and Tuesday nights, his uncles just tell him to shut up, man up, and maybe Jerry wouldn’t have to whoop his ass.

He thinks of Lydia and hopes she’s somewhere warm and clean tonight. Lydia’s smart enough to stay away on Tuesday nights. Home is never Lydia’s first port of call any night of the week, but never, ever on Tuesdays.

He remembers the last Tuesday night she was home, two summers ago, when Lydia stormed upstairs, a twelve-year-old hurricane with fire in her eyes, and called their father a coward for beating the shit out of Jasper.

Jeremiah Whitlock hadn’t liked being called a coward. Not at all.

Now she is transient, a ghost sister who vanishes at day break; one who bunks down on couches and in treehouses before coming back to her own bed. Their mom and Ava worry about where Lydia gets her money, cigar-sized rolls of dollar bills that she keeps in a tampon box, but he knows.

He knows that his sharp and pointy little sister never let anything stop her, least of all hard work, and that a lot of people in town know that Jerry Whitlock has a lot of anger and a lot of disappointment that he tries to drown in cheap beer and cheaper whiskey. It just makes him angrier. If the only thing they can do is give Lydia Whitlock some work, well, that kid’ll cut the grass, paint the garage, and walk the dog for a few bucks and a drink from a spigot.

It’s easy to say that Lydia is the best of them, making it clear that she doesn’t need their shitty father or their tired mother, but they are all strong in different ways. Ava, who smiles and simpers at their father, waiting for that day when she can buckle Hettie and Flo into her car and take them with her to college in Houston with a middle finger raised in the air. Flo stays quiet, stays alert, darting and hiding when the moment comes, but whose slight of hand belongs to a survivalist magician. And sweet little Hettie, who never lived on the ranch and knew their parents when they were happy, is sunshine and laughter and innocence. The one that reminds them why they stick together.

He’s the boy, so his role is obvious and unquestioned: he takes the punches and slaps and kicks that were meant for their mom, for Lydia, for Flo. He mutters things under his breath so that Jerry doesn’t hear what his sisters are saying, forgets that Hettie is sniffling or that Lydia hasn’t been home in ten days or that their mother has burnt dinner.

He knows his place.

—-

If you asked anyone with the surname ‘Whitlock’, they’d tell you that the family was cursed.

Had been since the Civil War; the youngest son had run off and joined up. Tried to desert two months in, crying for his momma, and ran afoul of someone - or something. He was dead a month later, but no one was exactly sure if he’d been executed for desertion, or if he’d just got in the way of a Yankee bullet. Either way, his last letter was rambling and terrified of something he never named, and his cowardice was rewarded with his bloodline’s constant suffering.

Within the Whitlock family lore, the curse was held accountable for numerous failings - from great-great grandmother Edith running off with one of the Wilkerson boys, to little Brian dropping dead as a doornail one summer day after seven years of perfect health. It was the Whitlock Curse to blame the day the bank took the ranch away from Jasper’s own father.      

It was the curse that had four and a half strapping brothers (Uncle Wyatt only counted as half since he went to the war in the Middle East and got himself blown up before he was even old enough to drink, and left behind a high school sweetheart with a bouncing baby girl they all called ‘Puddin’) father fifteen girls, and only one lousy boy.

Make no mistake about it, Jasper was a lousy heir to the Whitlock name. All three of his uncles reminded him of this every holiday season. Whitlock men were supposed to live and breathe the ranch, were supposed to be football players and champions. They were meant to knock up the head cheerleader and serve eight years in the army, like their brothers, fathers, uncles, and grandfathers before them.

Not snivelling little momma’s boys, who cried themselves to sleep when Sirius Black died, and could charm the birds from the trees. Not boys who helped their sisters catch rabbits, and keep them as secret pets, or name the house cat Socrates. Not boys who sat up all night when their horse had colic, and sit in the stable with her, begging and praying for her to be okay.

He tried, goddamnit. So hard. He was the best shot in the family (something that Uncle Bo had nearly hit him over, that one Thanksgiving. But everyone knew that Bo had the worst temper in the family.) Before things went to shit, he’d been a good student. He’d been able to convince the animals on the ranch to do anything. He was popular, without having any particular friends or putting much effort into it. He took care of his sisters.

But none of it was ever good enough.

Nothing ever was.

—

It’s Roy Lester that chases him off, before six the next morning. Roy runs the grocer next to Dewey’s, and went to school with his father and uncles - still had beers with them ever so often. The way he threatened Jasper and chased him off home whenever he caught him in the alley made Jasper think that they talked about him, and none of it flattering.

So he has to slink home because he stinks and he’s starving. The security at school won’t let anyone in before seven; he’s tried before; it’s not like he has much choice.

In a town like Sheldon, everyone knew everyone. You started kindergarten with maybe twenty other five year olds - most you probably already knew - and spent the next thirteen years with those same kids. You watched Maude Montgomery transform from the aesthetic-equivalent of Danny Devito to Jennifer Lawrence in a single summer, thanks to a late brush with puberty; you were right there when Casey Atkinson was put in a wheelchair and spent seventh grade learning to walk again. You knew that Ariel Turner was diabetic, Marley Harris was asthmatic, and you’d seen thirteen years of peanut-free lunches and birthday parties because Joey Thompson was highly allergic.

The joy of small towns.

Everyone knew that Jerry Whitlock hit his kids and his wife, but no one talked about it - not to their faces, at least. The adults tended to march Jasper home, to face his father’s wrath. The kids tended to get uncomfortable, and look through him. The few people who tried to reach out were from out of town, and were usually passing through - the odd teacher, a new neighbour, a concerned face on the bus.

Better to go home until school opened up.

Louise is in the kitchen, her face pinched and pale, clutching a cup of coffee. She looks hopeful when he walks in, but seems to crumple in on herself when she sees his bloody, swollen face. She looks old as she puts down her mug, and moves to pull him into a hug. He pretends not to notice her shuddering, as she cries onto his shoulder, before pulling away.

“I’ll make breakfast,” she manages, sniffling. “Okay? You must be hungry.”

He grunts and nods, as he heads upstairs. As if scrambled eggs and burnt toast can fix another Tuesday night.

But Wednesdays are good - the longest possible time until another Tuesday night.

He just has to keep telling himself that.

—

Seventeen.

Another Tuesday behind Dewey’s, but this time he’s puking up the few mouthfuls of food he managed before his father hauled him out the back - only because it was his mom’s week off and they were having a big family dinner. Louise resented those mid-week dinners; after a long day at work, having to make dinner for twenty-three people, and somehow find enough plates and chairs was the last thing she wanted to do. It was the only time Lydia would cross their father’s sight line, skinny and defiant.

If it had been a normal dinner, Jerry wouldn’t have dragged him out of the house. He would have beat him in the kitchen, yelling over Hettie’s sobs and Flo’s screams, and Louise’s pleading. He’s had a serving platter smashed over his head before, as well as a beer bottle, and a ceramic pitcher - one that had been made by Grandma Lillian, and Louise had sobbed over those broken shards.

His head is spinning, and he can’t remember exactly what he said to incite his father’s rage, though he remembers Uncle Bo’s jeers when he tried to stand up. The previous week’s wounds have reopened, and are bleeding onto his last decent t shirt. There’s vomit and alley-juice all over his jeans, and he wonders if he should drag himself to the hospital because his world is still spinning.

He wonders what will happen if he dies tonight; if Roy Lester finds him here in the morning, cold and dead. Most of the cops in town are from old families, and they’ve taken Lydia and Jasper back home enough times to know what goes on. It’s easier to picture the cover-up, that they’ll blame him and a make-believe schoolyard fight. Just a tragic accident.

Maybe then someone will help Lydia, help all of his sisters. Maybe it’ll be the thing that makes his mom leave.

He falls asleep facedown in the alley, and wants to cry when he wakes up the next morning to the bellow of school kids heading to the bus stop.

He was so goddamned close to it all being over.

So close.

—

“Do you need some help?”

It’s another Tuesday night, one that has come with busted ribs and possibly a dislocated shoulder. He missed lunch because of an English project, and his father had been drinking early, so he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. It’s making him feel sick, and wondering if anyone will notice if he sneaks in the back door of Dewey’s and grab some food.

And then someone is there and talking to him.

Her voice is high and sweet, and he expects a high school girl, maybe a sorority sister.

She is neither.

She’s only as tall as Flo, with uneven black hair curling around her cheeks. She’s one of the prettiest girls he has ever seen, with huge amber-coloured eyes that remind him of Hettie’s dolls and Lydia’s manga. She’s wearing a ragged button-up over a ruffled mini-skirt and leggings, with boots that look a size too big, a heavy man’s watch that hangs from her tiny wrist, and an ancient looking cadet’s cap - the entire effect makes him think of Oliver Twist as a female circus performer.

She walks over to him, and crouches in front of him, her head cocked to the side like a bird’s. He can only stare; other than the dark smudges under her eyes that speak of many sleepless nights, she is beautiful.

“Are you okay?” she asks, looking worried.

“Yeah,” he croaks, and winches as he jars his ribs. He doubles over, and cries out. She reaches out towards him but backs off just as suddenly.

“You’re hurt,” she says, looking bewildered and frightened. “Where?”

“I-It’s okay,” he manages, trying to reclaim his dignity in front of the prettiest girl. “I’ll be fine.”

The girl huffs. “Ugh, boys,” she mutters. “Hold on a second.” She gets up and slips out of the alley before he can beg her not to get help. In reality, going to the hospital is the last thing he should do - they can’t afford the bill, and  they’ll call home and… no. Just no.

His head is spinning, so he finds it hard to tell how much time has passed, but eventually she returns. She’s clutching two bags, and marches right up to him and crouches back down.

“This will help,” she says, holding out painkillers and a bottle of water. He fumbles with the lids of both, but eventually swallows the pillows down. She watches him carefully. “Don’t drink too fast,” she advises. “Now, I can put your shoulder back in now, or we can wait. It’s up to you.”

He blinks at her slowly. “Now,” he decides.

“Okay,” she looks nervous, but moves forward. It’s all blurry in his mind, but there is something cold, then hot, angry pain, and then he’s blinking up at her again. “Sorry. But trust me, the worst is over now. At least I didn’t break it worse. Hungry?”

He blinks as she reaches for the other bag - a bag of Skittles, a packaged sandwich, two oranges, and a bag of potato chips. He’s not sure if he has a concussion or it’s an odd selection, but he’s also hungry enough that he doesn’t care.

“I nearly had to call Bella, to ask what to get - Edward never let me buy her food after the chicken incident - which was entirely Emmett’s fault - but I think I figured it out okay,” the girl jabbers, taking a seat beside him, and smiles at him. “Better no one knows where I am, anyway.”

“I… thanks,” he croaked, as he reached for the sandwich. She beams at him again, and then frowns.

“Eat, then we’ll finish patching you up. I’ve come too far to watch you die in this disgusting place,” she stretches her legs out in front of her.

The sandwich is dry, but he wolfs it down - an orange too, before he takes a breath - that hurts - and takes another look at the tiny girl beside him.

“Who are you?” he finally asks, and she looks up from her watch.

“Oh! I’m Alice,” she says. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t know. Do you want your ribs taped now, or are you going to open those?” She points to the Skittles.

“Um, I…” he looks at the bag of candy. “Do you want some?” This feels like a fever dream; maybe he’s passed out and this is just what his banged-up brain has provided him with.

“No,” she shakes her head, and the cadet’s cap tilts a little on her head. “I can’t. They just looked nice. Happy.”

“Happy,” he echoes, looking at the red package.

“I hear that sometimes little things can help,” Alice says. “Come on, cowboy, take that shirt off and let me see those ribs.”

His side is mottled black and blue and purple, and moving in basically any direction is a new adventure in pain. Alice gasps at the sight, and then coos at him in a way that is oddly comforting as her fingers trace his ribs - the coldness of her fingers is actually wonderful against the pain. Then comes the painful stage - as she, not entirely gently enough, begins layering tape over the pain, his head is spinning.

“All done,” Alice says, and her voice is soft, and when he slumps against her shoulder, she doesn’t move away. She smells like old fashioned things, like roses and linen. It reminds him of the old family homestead. He finds his eyes closing, and his side aches in time with his heart, and then Alice’s gentle fingers are running through his hair.

“Sleep, Jasper,” she murmurs, “I’ll keep watch.”

He’s asleep before he realises he never told her his name.

—

She’s gone when he wakes up, and the Skittles are in his pocket - along with the painkillers. Happy.

It’s Wednesday morning, and it’s not exactly ‘happy’ he’s feeling, but he’s got candy in his pocket and time to go home for a shower and more food, so Alice was right - the little things do help.

—

She never turns up two Tuesdays in a row, but he does see her again. She’s always more prepared than the first time, with a bag that always seems to contain exactly what they need - in his less lucid states, he is reminded of Mary Poppins’ magic carpet bag as she produces snacks and first aid kits, and even clothing.

Her attempts at first aid are, at best, rough and she accidentally breaks two of his fingers and nearly ends up in tears when he yells in pain, and hugs him so tight, weeping into his neck, that he ends up trying to comfort her.

Sometimes he sleeps. She’s so thin and tiny that her shoulder isn’t a good pillow, and he feels like a shit man, letting such a tiny girl keep watch behind a bar. It wouldn’t take much to break her, and he can’t defend anyone in this state.

But some Tuesdays, he falls asleep anyway, breathing in that scent of fresh roses and linen, and listening to her chatter away about people he doesn’t know, about places he’s never visited, about books he’s never read.

Alice sounds like she’s living a really nice life. One week, she quizzes him on his Spanish before his examine the next day, and her accent is flawless. When her phone buzzes and buzzes and buzzes, and she ignores it, she usually swears - he doesn’t know in what language, one of the Eastern Asian ones he thinks - but it’s definitely a swear.

He wishes he could see her, talk to her, out in the real world and prove to her that he’s not just a beat-up kid. But she’s always gone on Wednesday mornings, and he doesn’t even know how to contact her anyway.

All in all, he met Alice in the reeking alley behind Dewey’s with a concussion, broken ribs, and a dislocated shoulder, and now she’s the best friend he’s ever had in the world.

He’s getting closer to that ‘happy’ concept that she mentioned the first time they met.

—

The last time he sees her, he’s bleeding and he’s pretty sure his eye socket is fractured. He’s pissed with himself because he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, to stop his father from going after Flo. So he’d thrown a punch at his old man  for the first time because Flo is his baby sister and all haunted eyes and he’ll never forget the sounds of her wailing after the belt struck her, but hitting the bastard back just fuelled him and … fuck.

Then Alice is there, in jeans with stars on the knees and a billowy purple top that is just opaque enough to obscure the skin underneath. She looks angry and frustrated, and doesn’t just sit next to him and open her bag like she usually does.

“It’s a stupid fucking decision you’re about to make,” she stamps her foot, “and I am so mad at you right now, but Carlisle and Edward have made me promise not to interfere. Carlisle says that everything I’m doing now is enough. And I’m already in enough trouble, honestly.”

He can taste foil again - definitely a fractured eye socket.

“What?” he manages, snappish and tired. He doesn’t need this. He wants sweet Alice, who helps him patch himself back together, and gets him food, and talks him to sleep. The one who makes him laugh, even when it hurts, and seems to be light-years ahead of him but that’s okay because she’s always so happy about whatever she’s telling him.

“I’m going to say this once,” she enunciates carefully, still glaring. “I will be here every Tuesday. Don’t make a dumb decision. There is always another choice.”

“You’re making less sense than normal,” he retorts. “Either help me, or go away - I’m not in the mood.”

“Happy freakin’ birthday,” she snaps, unbuckling her giant watch, and throws it at him before she storms back the way she came, leaving him behind.

#jaliceweek20 #alice cullen #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #vampire alice human jasper #my fic: against a wall #my writing: against a wall #alice is so unhelpfully helpful

[herstarburststories]

Batfam Headcanon: Pregnancy

✾ Request: Can I request a batfam headcanon? Batboys reactions when Kory says she’s pregnant of Mar’i. Btw love you page💕

✾ A/N: You teased me about dickkory, now you got a bible. That’s how it goes. Also, added Babs, Alfred and Bruce as bonus. And I’m glad you enjoy my work! Ps: I barely know Duke, tha’s why he doesn’t show up here.

✾ Disclaimer: Main relationship is Dick Grayson x Koriand’r. Mentions of Tim x Steph and Tim x Kon (kind of?). Check my Fandoms’ liist to see which Ships I’ll write for.

                                                  ━─┈ ✧

Dick Grayson

I'm gonna use unpublished Nightwing #30 here: he and Kory had sex when he was getting ready for the agente stuff.

Once Agent 37 is off the deal, they end up finding each other again. A bit before Dick gets shoot.

And then, as usually it is between the acrobat and the alien princess, they do it again. 

Over and over again.

She gets pregnant and finds out by the time Dick is amnesic.

Don't @ me DC would do that.

Kory flies towards Bludhaven & talks to him. It's not exactly successful. As he had said to Babs before, he didn't want his memories back. Ric was happy without Dick's conscience.

But Starfire isn't asking for her; it's about him, of course. He should be himself, he worked very hard through years to become who he truly was. But mostly, she begged him to come back because of a new addition to their lives.

Pregnant alien!!

At first, Ric Grayson doesn't believe it. Actually, part of him is aware that's true, he can feel it in the change inside his heart when he saw her; something similar to shame and adoration and excitement at once. Kory moved, talked, and seemed like someone he could love, be completely crazy about.

But he wasn't a father!

Koriand'r leaves, and Grayson is by himself again. Without his Gotham or Titans affiliates.

And, for the first time, there is no comfort in that.

He could tell she wasn't lying. Even though a part of his treacherous new mind tried to convince him otherwise.

Grayson's mind didn't know any gorgeous alien, let alone a pregnant with his child alien.

Yet, Dick felt like he had her in his veins. Just like he did with Bruce, Damian, Barbara, Donna, and the others. Tickles behind his skin, a red alarm for a memory that was long lost. But the sensation of keeping it somewhere remained inside him.

Although, when it came to the redhead princess, the warmth inside him was more intense.

Dick was going to be a father. He didn't even know his whole self and would be needed to take care of someone else. Someone small, part of him, and the legacy of the Flying Grayson's. Besides, he didn't even actually remember the mother of his kid.

didn't even remember making the kid.

He calls Bruce. Telling him to bring the antidote that Barbara was keeping if he wanted his memories back.

Not for him, not because it was the right thing, not because of everyone who claimed to love him cried for Dick to do that. Not even because of familiar senses holding into him every time he interacted with someone from his past.

But because he was going to be a father.

This decision was for his child.

When Bruce, Babs, and Damian ask why, he doesn't answer.

He remembers now, and he needs to find Kory.

It's scary, exciting, and the biggest surprise she ever gave to him-- even more scandalous than the day she fell on earth and kissed him.

A dad! He would be a dad!

Jason Todd

It all started off as an unusual ordinary day; 

Roy got himself in trouble, Jason went to help him and the little problem became a bigger situation. Roy called Kory and a few minutes later, the situation was replaced by dust and fire smell. No one died, but it was enough to make the villains leave.

In the middle of ''What the fuck they wanted?" & "Who were they?" wonders, the original Outlaws heard a familiar motorcycle's noise which made Jason huff, Roy arch eyebrows and Kory confused. 

Dick Grayson was there.

He was hysterical, blue eyes flaming with worry and relief towards Kory. Between their couple discussion and the others attempt to understand what was going on 

Were they back together? Did dick know about the outlaws' way and was sticking his nose where it didn't belong? Did the titans need kory urgently? 

Until 'pregnant' left Dick's lips, being followed by Kory's chaotic scream of "Just because I am pregnant, it does not mean I can not fight!"

Roy just had to get closer to them and explain that it would make no good to go through stressful situations, especially if he got it right. 

A deep breath would be taken, and then Dick would apologize to Kory, saying he was just really scared for both of them. She'd look at her Outlaw friends and curve the corner of her lips-- that Kory smile that translate into 'I've seen hell and chose to use its flames to warm up the cold places of my heart.'

‘’Jason, Roy. . . I am expecting a baby.’’

Meanwhile, Jason was taking off his helmet and glaring at his friends with a perplexed look on his face. Also, a slightly desire of punching Dick. Last time he had heard of their relationship, it was about both of them avoiding each other, his older brother telling him to take care of Kory and Jason calling Dick an idiot. Yeah, he had to have a chat with him later.

For now, Roy was pulling him and Kory into a group hug.

Almost felt like their old times together.

Roy: Outlaw baby!!  /  Dick: Excuse me?

Tim Drake

Okay, okay. First of all, he wasn't planning on seeing any member of his family for a quite while. Not that Tim didn't want to, he was just really running out of time. Being Young Justice's leader was a full time job, and he wanted to be excellent at it.

But things don't always pass by as they were settle to. Therefore, when a disaster happens and Conner, of all people, gets hurt, Tim is in a delicate state of mind.

Drake is smart. He knows it isn't just about Conner. It's all the small things he's been keeping since Gotham.

Not enough sleep, but a certain amount of coffee to make his hands shake when it's late enough for the sun to come out weakly. His relationship with Steph is growing with disagreements from both lives; heroic and urban. His best friend is hurt because he analyzed too much a situation instead of telling his team what to do, so they made their independent choices. A dumb mistake, the kind that Batman would be disappointed of. Tim himself was biting his own neck about it. How could he be a leader? He should be better than that.

And then, he made a call. Because of all things he might be and might not be, he wasn't Batman.

Tim had friends, and a brother that would know what he was going through.

And he knew how to ask for help sometimes.

Dick comes by as fast as possible. They go to the roof and talk it out.

"Remember that they aren't just your team, Tim," He would say, a tranquil smile on his face. It's so similar to how he explained his relationship with the Titans when Drake was still Robin years ago. "They are your family. It's impossible for you not to be affected when they get hurt or something goes wrong. But they are alive. They still trust you. They believe, and need you. You need to give yourself some credit, and do your best for them."

OF COURSE Tim is stubborn about that because Dick is Dick and he basically grew with the Titans, it wasn't the same thing. He didn't have his older brother's skills to command, communicate, etc.

It was scary.

"Yet, Tim, a lot of things are scary. But you have to keep going. For who needs saving. For yourself. For the people you love."

His tone is too sentimental, even for Dick's big brother moments.

"You need to find something to fight for. That's how you keep going, even when you make mistakes. Good news, you already have it. "

Tim: Yeah, I think so. . . You came back to the Titans? I still have access to the computers.

Dick: Yeah, no. Kind if. It's complicated.

Tim: "Complicated? Like. . . Alien kind of complication?"

Dick: "You should know about that, huh?"

BLUSHING, STUTTERING TIM. Cutting it because I already mentioned Steph, but I couldn't miss this opportunity ok.

Dick just laughs about it.

"Starfire isn't complicated, but yeah. We are still deciding if we will keep in the Titans or if we are going to Bludhaven for now."

"It sounds serious, even permanent."

"As permanent as a baby can be."

HHSHHSUSJJSIUSIE

BABY?

IS SHE PREGNANT??

Yeah, Tim was pretty wake, and shaking, and his brain felt like burning right now.

OH MY-- DICK

He was going to be a FATHER.

"YOU ARE GONNA BE A PARENT!"

But then, Dick was the older one and the best with kids.

"WAIT, SHE WILL BE HALF ALIEN. An hybrid. In nature, two different but similar species can procreate, but their kid can't have kids. Do you think--"

"Tim, calm down. Can you at least give me congratulations before talking about my unborn child's probable infertility?"

Damian Wayne

He knew Kory and Dick had been seeing each other again.

Therefore, making one of them notice his presence before showing up was necessary.

He didn't want to accidentally see profanity between his brother figure and his team's current leader, thank you.

After an obvious noise, he got in Dick's apartment.

As expected, Starfire was there.

She was standing up, and Grayson and looking at her tearful, while holding her belly.

It wasn't possible.

Grayson wouldn't be that irresponsible, would he?

Of course he would.

" So, I supposed Starfire either has a deadly bellyache, or you two are procreating. "

He is mildly fearing that Dick won't have much time for him, but that's a matter for another time.

BONUS!

Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth

Dick visits the manor with Kory someday.

He had to give the news or Batman would end up knowing anyway.

Honestly, it wasn't about that. He actually wanted to tell Bruce about his baby.

Alfred was there when they exchanged greetings, politely as usual.

‘'We are having a baby.'’

Listen, Bruce knows how to keep his emotions under his skin, but his eldest son being a father?

This must be the most real expression he has showed in years, and it's full of emotions; he is content, and surprised, and worried.

Some would say that Alfred was tearfully, but kept his posture. Master Bruce really made it. Obstacles, of course, even more than necessary at times. Yet, he was going to be a grandfather, and master Dick was becoming a father.

Gotham had a sunny day for once.

Barbara Gordon 

If it's not Kory and Babs' baby, she will be aunt Babs

Something happens, help becomes needed.

Nightwing shows up in the middle of the combat, he was in Gotham to talk to Bruce & Alfred & Damian, anyway.

Batman dispersed him, though.

And Batgirl was confused by Batman's choice, especially after listening to his explanation:

"Nightwing, this is more dangerous than our usual job. I will take Robin and Batgirl. You have more urgent thinks to be taken care of. "

The dynamic duo leaves and there is just two long time friends. 

It doesn't take a half second for Barbara to notice Dick hiding something.

Sigh, sigh, sigh.

"All right, Dick Grayson. What did you do?"

"Apparently, a baby."

????????????

"He has been ditching me since he learned about Kory's pregnancy."

"KORY'S WHAT!?"

"You didn't even tell me you two were back together!"

"You lost your virginity to an attractive alien and now she is pregnant with your child. That is. . . Surprising."

"I am really happy for you, Dick."

"Thank you, Babs. . . You know what? Maybe it's time to actually introduce you to Kory."

Communicator ringing.

"After I take care of something. Go home, dad."

#dickkory #dickkory imagine #dickkory headcanons #dickkory headcanon #robstar #robstar headcanon #robstar headcanons #dickkory family #mar'i grayson #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson headcanons #dick grayson #kory anders #koriand'r #starfire #dick grayson x kory anders #batfamily #batfam #Batfamily Headcanon #batfam headcanons #batfamily headcanons #batfam headcanon #batboys headcanons #batboys headcanon #batboys imagines #batboys #jason todd #barbara gordon #jason todd headcanon #kory anders headcanon

[ofstoriesandstardust]

can you do an oliver queen imagine where oliver is the readers dad and the reader is 16 years old and he never lets her do fun things because he’s overprotective and doesn’t want anything to happen to her. then one night she sneaks out to a party and he catches her as the green arrow and she finally has enough and they have a cute father daughter talk and it’s all good in the end? i’m sorry if this is alittle weird but if you write this thank you and if not i understand 😁

A/N: Hi friends! Long time no write! I’d give excuses, but I’m sure y’all would just like to read the writing. So here it is! I’m not really sure what place this takes in the timeline, so I’d just say roll with it.

Masterlist | Prompt List

Word Count: 1,496

Warnings: so much swearing

Overprotective

Your phone would not stop buzzing. And buzzing. And buzzing. You groaned, pushing yourself up, still half-asleep from your nap, where you had planned to be for at least another two hours. “What?” You asked, yawning.

“Charming.” (Y/B/F) responded. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I was sleeping; what do you want?”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing; why?”

“Perfect. You, me, Brett’s party tonight.” You chuckled and shook your head, even though she couldn’t see you.

“Bold of you to assume my father will let me out of the house.”

“Your father never lets you out of the house.”

“Exactly.”

“(Y/N), you never go anywhere or do anything because of your dad.”

“Right.”

“Well then, lucky for you, you have a best friend that has come up with the perfect plan to sneak you out of the house.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Pleeaassseee.”

“My father will kill me.”

“I’ll buy you a burrito.”

“Fine. But if my Dad catches me, your ass is going to be in the fire with mine too.”

“Deal.”

-

Oliver walked into the lair, where Diggle and Felicity awaited him. He strode towards them and crossed his arms. “What do we have tonight?” Felicity looked, nervous, and looked at Diggle before facing Oliver again.

“You aren’t going to like this.” Oliver’s arms dropped, and he began to feel uneasy.

“What?” Diggle sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

“We need you to shut down this high school party.”

Oliver felt confused. Why was the Green Arrow running around to shut down some teenager’s drunken fun? That could be left up to the cops.

“Well, one of your enemies has eyes on the party. He’s hoping to do a hostage situation. There’s going to be a lot of rich kids there. He wants his vengeance on the elites of the city, and their kids are the way to do that. If we go and get the party shut down, he’ll have to run.”

Oliver nodded. “Sounds like we’ve gotta go bust a few teenagers.”

Diggle sighed. “There’s more.” Oliver raised his eyebrows. “(Y/N)’s there.”

“What?”

“I got the notification from the cameras earlier and saw that she snuck out. Figured I could tell you when you came in. Didn’t realize what she was doing, till the tracker on her phone alerted me she was at the party.”

“Fuck.”

“We need to get her out of there. If he realizes who she is-”

“I think he already knows. There’s no way he wouldn’t.” Felicity said softly.

Oliver took a few deep breaths to quell his fears. “He knows. I don’t doubt that for a second. Her death will just be the icing on the cake.”

“Oliver…” Felicity said gently.

“Let’s get suited up then.”

Oliver would not take any chances on his daughter’s life. Not when she was the most important thing in his life.

-

Three hours and a few outfit changes later, you were successfully out of the house and on your way to the party. The idea of your Dad figuring out where you were was dreadful, and enough to make your stomach turn into knots. This was a terrible idea and you should not have come. Over the loud, pulsing music, you could feel your heart rate start to race, the longer you were here. Your best friend suddenly materialized, with a random boy from your school on her arm. She shoved a drink into your hand. “C’mon, live a little! Have a drink, dance with Josh!” You shook your head and pushed the drink back.

“No, I need to go.”

“(Y/N), you always do this. You never have fun, you never do anything for yourself. Your Dad controls and dictates your entire life, and you just let him! I will never understand it! You’re a teenager, you’re supposed to let loose and have fun! Make mistakes! God, I can’t deal with your moping and whining about it anymore!” By this point, Josh had awkwardly left.

“I’m not asking you to!”

“Then fine! If this is how you wanna live your life, then I can’t be apart of it anymore.” She stormed off and you slid down the wall to a sitting position. You put your head in your hands failing to blink back tears. Suddenly, the lights went out and the music went silent. There was muttering around you until a figure began to emerge in the crowd. For a moment, you began to feel scared, until you recognized the figure. Shit.

“You all need to leave. You are all in danger. Now. Go! Go!” Oliver yelled and kids scattered around you until the building was empty. You heard two sets of footsteps head towards you and looked up to see Diggle and your Dad.

“Hi Diggle. Dad.” You mumbled, well aware of the fact that the tear streaks were more than visible on your face.

“Party’s over.” Oliver said.

“Wow, I almost didn’t figure that out.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “I mean, you couldn’t even let me come to a party. Oh no, you just had to shut it down and ruined all my fun.”

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled.

“Oh my god…” You muttered.

“We can finish this conversation at the lair. Right now, we need to get you out of here.” Diggle interrupted.

“Whatever.” you said, standing up and pushing past the two.

-

Tension-filled silence filled the lair. Roy, Thea, Diggle, and Felicity awkwardly stood off to the side, while your Dad sat in a chair a few feet away from you. You stood across from your Dad with your arms crossed. Your Dad finally spoke. “I am so disappointed in you.”

You laughed despite the situation. “What’s new?” Oliver raised his eyebrows but you didn’t notice. “I get caught doing the same shit you did in school, the same shit I have never done before, and you get to say you’re disappointed in me. Un-fucking-believable.”

“Yes, I am disappointed in you for doing the same shit I did in school. Because I expect you to better.”

“What? You want me to not fuck up like you and have a kid you don’t give a shit about?!”

“Is that really-”

“No, I’m not fucking done!” Oliver sat back in his chair. “For once, in your god damn life, you are going to listen to what I have to say! You have been absent my whole life, and then you come back and you want to dictate what I do! And I understand, I understand a lot of that time wasn’t by your hand. Dad, I’m a fucking teenager! I’m going to fuck up! I’m going to make mistakes, just the same as you did! But you have to let me! I know what you do for this city, and I know why, but what does that shit have to do with me?! I want to have friends, and maybe a boyfriend, and go out, without Diggle or Thea or Roy with me! Let me be happy!” You began to feel out of control as you become more and more overwhelmed by your tears. “I am- so fucking tired- of feeling- not- enough. You didn’t- want me- I- know that-. But I can’t- do this- anymore.”

Oliver took a few deep breaths. “(Y/N), I was a nightmare teenager. And god only knows how much I drank when I slept with your mom. But I have never, ever, for a second, regretted having you. I am so disappointed in myself for making you feel that way. Before I disappeared, I knew that I would not be able to be a good parent to you. But when I was on that island, thinking of you was the only thing getting me through. I swore to myself I’d step up and protect you and be a good parent. I have seen a lot of vile acts and heinous people hurt so many in this city. And you are always one of their main targets. I could never, ever live with myself if you got killed because of my work. I can’t take that risk. That’s why we shut down that party tonight. One of my enemies had his eyes on you and that party. I could not let anything happen to you, or those kids.”

“Dad, I know you want me to be safe, but your need for me to be safe is overriding my ability to be happy. Please.” there was so much emotion behind that last word.

“Okay, okay. I will do my best from now on to let you do you and live your life. I just- if you ever feel like you aren’t enough, I just- please talk to me about it, okay?” You nodded, wiping your eyes. “C’mere, c’mere, give me a hug.” You went and hugged Oliver. “I’m sorry, kid, I’m sorry. I’m gonna do better, I promise.”

#oliver queen #oliver queen imagines #oliver queen imagine #arrow #arrow imagine #arrow imagines

[artificialqueens]

REUNITED 🖤 (Biadore) - Lemonade

Summary: Based on the recent Biadore reunion.

Roy looked for Danny in the sea of people bustling around the airport. They hadn’t agreed to meet, but it was an unspoken occurrence in their relationship. Whenever someone was coming home from a long tour, the other would be waiting for them to get off their flight with open arms.

Roy braced himself to be charged at with full speed at any moment. Since he couldn’t see Danny, he wouldn’t know exactly when to plant his feet firmly on the ground, and steady his balance to accommodate the koala hug he always came home to.

5 minutes… 10 minutes… 20 minutes…

Roy still stood in the same place waiting for Danny. He didn’t wanna move, or sit; Which would make it harder for Danny to find him.

Another ten minutes passed. Roy huffed, his patience wearing thin. He just wanted to see Danny and be back in his own apartment.

Roy pulled out his phone, shaking his head. “If this kid’s still asleep,” he mumbled under his breath, more with the fond annoyance he always had towards Danny rather than the actual aggravation he would feel towards anybody else.

Willow 🥰💕👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💍

Are you at the airport?

Willow 🥰💕👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨💍

I don’t see you.

Dan ❤️💋

Nah

The one worded text from Danny let all the air out of Roy’s body. Danny always picked him up from the airport. He always had flowers, or a cute little gift for Roy. He always welcomed him back with a hug that recharged the life in Roy.

Roy couldn’t remember the last time he came home from tour without Danny’s one man welcoming committee. His mind had a hard time wrapping around the fact that Danny wasn’t gonna come running at him and—Fuck. Roy couldn’t believe he was crying over this.

Roy quickly wiped his eyes dry with the back of his hand. He ordered an Uber home, texting Danny a simple “K.” in response.

——

With help from someone who worked in the apartment complex Roy lived in, he got all of his luggage up to his apartment in one trip. He fumbled with the keys, missing the lock a few times. It was hard for Roy to do small tasks when he was upset, a disconnect happened between his brain and body.

The keys fell out of Roy’s grip once he pushed the door open. The small inconvenience almost made all of Roy’s pent up emotions blow until his fingers grazed a soft rose petal. He looked up, dozens of the rich red petal’s created a pathway to his bedroom. Roy let out a sigh of relief. He quickly drug the heavy suitcases into his apartment, tossing the keys on his kitchen counter.

The pathway into his bedroom lead to the bathroom. His face momentarily twisted in confusion until his need for Danny outweighed his want for convention.

Roy felt all the tension leave his muscles when he saw Danny standing in his bathroom, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a welcoming smile on his face. Roy grabbed Danny’s waist, pulling him in for a tight hug. Roy buried his face in Danny’s neck, finding comfort in the familiarity. Roy squeezed Danny impossibly closer, holding him like that for a while while their hug breathed new life into the both of them.

When Roy finally felt like he wouldn’t crumble if Danny let go he pulled away, pressing a kiss to Danny’s cheek. His fingers ran through Danny’s newly dark hair, their eyes focused on each other. “You dyed your hair?”

“Yeah, you like it?”

Roy smiled warmly, “You look like you again.”

Danny bit his lip, looking down as he blushed. Nobody made him feel the way Roy did.

“I’m happy to see you,” Roy brought Danny’s attention back to him. “I thought you were ditching me when you said you weren’t at the airport,” Roy chuckled the way he did when something actually hurt his feelings but he didn’t want to say it did.

Danny’s expression fell. “Oh, no, of course not! I missed you so much, Willow!” He chastely kissed Roy’s lips. “I just thought you’d be really exhausted when you came home so I wanted to have this ready for you,” Danny pulled back Roy’s shower curtain to reveal a bubble bath. “It’s warm and I put relaxing bath salts in it!” Danny beamed at him.

Roy smiled, laughing at himself now that he realized why Danny hadn’t picked him up. He really had to work on jumping to heartbreaking conclusions when it came to Danny—An unhealthy habit of Danny’s that Roy had managed to acquire overtime.

Danny handed Roy his flowers. The bouquet sparkled with accent gems & glitter that the florist must have sprayed on them. “They’re beautiful,” Roy said. Danny half expected Roy to make a comment about it being the gayest bouquet of flowers he had ever seen because—well they were. To his surprise, Roy didn’t bite. “I’m gonna put them in the bedroom,” Roy happily said as he still admired the pink flowers.

The last bouquet Danny had bought him withered while he was away. Before throwing them out he plucked one from the vase, putting it in the back of a heavy book. Roy always kept a flower from every bouquet he received. The ones from Danny were kept separate from the ones he got from friends and fans.

“C’mon baby, the water’s gonna get cold.” Danny called from the bathroom as Roy placed the vase on his nightstand.

“I like cold baths,” Roy said as he joined Danny.

“Ew,” Danny giggled, Roy pecked the tip of Danny’s nose, turning Danny into the embodiment of the 🥺 emoji.

“You’re cute,” Roy teased.

“You’re cute,” Danny returned, running his hands through Roy’s hair and giving the long locks a slight tug. God, he hoped Roy kept his hair that length.

Danny’s hands smoothed over Roy’s shoulders and arms, then down his sides until his fingertips were at the hem of Roy’s shirt. “I missed touching you,” Danny whispered in Roy’s ear, causing a shiver and a trail of goosebumps up his spine. Roy groaned. He knew this bath wouldn’t stay innocent for long.

Danny gently pulled Roy’s shirt over his head. He licked his lips as his eyes drank in the sight of Roy shirtless in front of him, his hands resting on Roy’s hips. “I promise to let you relax first,” Danny said more to remind himself than to ease Roy, who very clearly didn’t have a problem with either option.

Roy kicked off his shoes and socks before letting Danny unzip his pants. With one motion both jeans and boxers were on the floor. Danny didn’t look. If he looked, he’d have to taste. Danny really, really wanted Roy to enjoy his bath first.

With a helping hand from his love, Roy stepped into the tub, wasting no time sinking down into the warm water. Danny felt a sense of accomplishment when Roy’s eyes fell shut and he leaned his head back. “Good?”

“Good,” Roy hummed. He offered his hand to Danny, peaking at him through one eye. “C’mon, don’t make me take this bath alone.”

“It’s funny you thought I would.” Danny quickly stripped and put his hair in a messy bun so he could join Roy.

“Careful,” Roy advised as he guided Danny onto the slippery surface.

Danny sat facing Roy, moving closer to him until he could wrap his legs around Roy’s waist and his arms around his neck. Danny laid his head down on Roy’s shoulder, content with the position they found themselves in. “Comfy?” Danny asked, not wanting to put his own need for physical affection before Roy’s comfort.

“Mhm,” Roy hummed, his fingertips tracing patterns into Danny’s back. Danny snuck a look at Roy. His eyes were closed again, his face losing the lines of expression. Danny smiled to himself, kissed Roy’s chest, and laid his head back down on Roy’s shoulder.

“I love you,” Danny said quietly, weakly—as if he was scared Roy wouldn’t say it back for some reason.

Roy kissed the top of Danny’s head, “I love you, too.”

When the water had lost it’s soothing warmth, Danny decided it was time to end their bath. His lips ghosted over Roy’s collarbone, latching onto the skin of his neck. Danny coaxed a low moan out of Roy as he sucked on the sensitive area. His tongue ran over the budding bruise.

Danny licked from the base of Roy’s neck to the shell of his ear. Roy’s eyes rolled back when Danny dipped his tongue inside, his nipples stiffening. Danny kissed down Roy’s neck, to his shoulder, lavishing his bicep with attention. Roy’s hand pressing into Danny’s back was a comforting pressure, encouraging him to continue.

Plump lips kissed a pathway across Roy’s tan chest. The short hairs grazing his lips ignited an animalistic hunger in Danny. His hands splayed over Roy’s pecs, teasing his hardened nipples. Danny roughly pinched then tugged on them, Roy’s gasp melted into a moan as Danny rolled them between his fingers.

“Gorgeous,” Danny said as he continued to toy with Roy’s nipples. Roy fought the urge to deny the compliment. Roy didn’t think much of himself physically. Didn’t think he was so beautiful that he deserved to have someone like Danny calling him gorgeous with a handful of his tits, but here they were anyway.

The only way Roy could keep his mouth shut was to keep it busy. His hands caressed up Danny’s sides, moving into his hair to let it down from the bun Danny had put it in. Roy’s fingers combed through the dark locks so they wouldn’t tangle on Danny when they made love. His fingers fanned out in soft hair, teasing Danny’s sensitive scalp.

The gentle hand massaging his scalp quickly transformed into a fist full of hair pulling Danny to Roy’s lips. Their kiss was anything but tamed. Time wasn’t wasted as they happily welcomed each other’s tongues into their mouths. Roy nipped Danny’s bottom lip as Danny panted into the kiss.

Roaming hands and needy kisses could only hold them over for so long. Roy squeezed Danny’s asscheeks possessively before breaking up their make out. “Bed?”

To his surprise, Danny shook his head no. Roy thought that’s where the night was heading, but he was always just as happy to hold Danny as he was to have him.

“Take me now, here. I need you,” Danny plead.

Oh.

Roy wasn’t a fan of the thought if he was being honest. “I can’t do everything I wanna do to you in here,” Roy’s voice was particularly gravely, Danny’s thighs quivered at the sound. “And I want you to be comfortable. And safe.”

Danny smiled, affectionately rolling his eyes at Roy. Some days it was harder than others to get his lover to break out of his shell. Today, bath sex wasn’t a hill Danny was ready to die on. He nuzzled his nose with Roy’s, scratching through Roy’s stubble before kissing him. “Mkay,” Danny said against Roy’s lips.

Danny got up first, offering to help Roy step out onto the bathmat. Grabbing a towel, Roy quickly dried Danny off. The lush fabric teased his inner thighs as Roy ran the towel down them.

“Gimme,” Danny snatched the towel away, returning the favor of drying Roy off. “You’re fucking sexy,” Danny purred, throwing the wet towel onto the floor. Before Roy could make a comment about the mess Danny pulled him into a sweltering kiss.

Tattooed fingers pressed harshly into Roy’s jawline. Danny nearly kissed his lips raw. “Take me,” Danny desperately breathed into Roy’s mouth. “Need to feel you,” he panted. “Want you inside me…Please, Daddy.”

A rush of adrenaline took over Roy’s body as Danny begged for him. “I’m gonna be so good to you, babygirl. Gonna give you everything you want.” Roy pressed a firm kiss to Danny’s lips before pulling away. With all the strength in his body Roy lifted Danny into his arms, carrying him a few steps into the bedroom before tossing Danny onto the bed.

Danny moaned when he hit the mattress, left completely breathless by the move. Danny loved being manhandled by Roy. The sight of his lover crawling over him with dark hunger in his eyes dried Danny’s throat out. He wrapped his whole body around Roy, needing the secure feeling of skin on skin. The weight of Roy’s cock against him made Danny twitch. His own already fully hard and leaking.

Roy leaned down. His lips ghosted over Danny’s cheek and jaw. He teased Danny’s pulse point, making his lover whine and squirm beneath him just by breathing on the sensitive area. Roy smirked, pressing a small kiss where he teased. “You’re incredible,” Roy praised. One of his hands came to a rest on Danny’s stomach, knowing the simple touch would make Danny’s muscles jump.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” Roy growled into Danny’s ear, his hot breath had Danny’s eyes rolling back. Danny whimpered at the question, the promise of being fucked going straight to his balls.

“Love on me,” Danny said softly.

“You want me to love you, angel?”

Danny nodded his head, shyly smiling up at Roy.

Roy traced Danny’s lips with his thumb. “Okay.”

——

“You’re perfect. So amazing, princess. Did you like that? I fucking know you did,” Roy cooed to Danny as he nuzzled behind his ear. “I love you so much, angel. Daddy’s girl.”

Danny whined, leaning into Roy. He turned around in Roy’s arms to face him. Slender fingers traced the outline of a red-ish purple bruise on the side of Roy’s neck. Danny pressed his finger into it. “Mine.”

“Ow! Brat!” Roy chuckled, smacking Danny’s hand away.

Danny giggled at Roy’s response. Deciding to test his luck, Danny repeated the process on a hickey placed directly in the middle of Roy’s throat. “Mine.”

“Fuck! Stop doing that!” Roy‘s tone a little more serious than before.

“Sorry. ‘M love you,” Danny pecked Roy’s lips. Roy couldn’t help but to melt into Danny.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“You do?” Danny punctuated his sentence with a nip to Roy’s bottom lip.

“I do.” Reluctantly, Roy had to break away from Danny’s kiss. He hide his surprise in the one place he knew Danny wouldn’t find it; no matter how many times he snuck into Roy’s apartment when Roy wasn’t home.

Roy’s hand slid under his mattress (Danny never made the bed). He pulled out a few papers that Danny didn’t have to read as Roy immediately started to explain himself. “Since we’re going to Palm Springs to look at that house we liked, I thought we could stay at hotel for a day or two—a dog friendly one so we can bring the babies. I booked us an entire day at a spa. It’ll be nice to spend some time with you, Dan.”

Danny pouted, tears beginning to glisten in his eyes.

“Aw, angel,” Roy held Danny’s face. “Don’t—“

Danny shook his head. “They’re happy. I’m really happy. I’ve missed you— a lot.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“It was really long.”

“I know,” Roy swiped away some of Danny’s tears. “That’s why I think we can use this.” He kissed the back of Danny’s hand. “I know all of this time away from each other has been hurting us. I know it’s hurting you, and our relationship. Things have been weird, and different. I know—“ he reassured Danny. “I know. I wanna try to make it a little better, though. As much as we can before you gotta leave.”

Danny crawled into Roy’s arms for a hug. Roy was always the talker of their relationship, and Danny was the toucher. While long talks and explanations of feelings helped Roy through a situation, being loved or loving helped Danny.

Danny nuzzled Roy’s cheek, kissing the indentation of his dimple. “I still want you.” Danny’s small voice took Roy off guard. “Even though it’s been weird and some things are kinda different,” Danny looked into Roy’s eyes. “I still want you—and this. I love this,” Danny giggled.

Roy couldn’t help but to smile. Danny’s not-so-serious attitude cut a lot of the tension in these situations—made Roy feel better most times. Roy cupped Danny’s face, meeting him half way for a kiss.

“I have another surprise for you,” Roy said against Danny’s lips.

“Is it your dick?” Danny teased, kissing Roy a bit rougher than before.

“Would my dick really be a surprise?”

Danny shrugged. Roy laughed into his mouth.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be as happy about this one.”

——

Danny grimaced, “Are you sure?” His fingers ran through Roy’s hair as Roy sat in front of him.

“A hundred percent.”

“I love your long hair,” Danny whined, twirling his fingers in the curly strands.

Roy chuckled, “I could do it on my own, you know. I wasn’t going for the full Britney fantasy, but—“

“No! I’ll do it!”

Roy smirked. He knew Danny would cave instantly.

The buzzing from the trimmer rung in Roy’s ears. Danny reluctantly brought the razor to the start of Roy’s hairline, gently guiding it to the nape of his neck in a smooth motion.

Roy didn’t have much hair to begin with. Danny brushed the itchy pieces off of Roy’s shoulders once he was done. “You’re still fucking sexy.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna love me even when I’m bald?”

Danny laughed, nodding his head. He mounted Roy. Roy’s hands always finding their way to Danny’s ass. “It looks good,” Danny reassured. “I love your short hair, too.”

——

Danny gasped. “Look at the windows!” The house they had come to look at had a beautiful view into a private backyard. Danny squeezed Roy’s hand in excitement.

“I’ll give you two some time to look around on your own,” the woman selling the house allowed Danny and Roy their privacy.

“Do you like it?” Roy asked, examining the well decorated sitting room.

“It’s bougie as hell.” A house like this was something Danny thought he’d only ever see on TV. Living here would be a complete dream.

Roy sat in one of the chairs in front of the wall length windows. Danny smiled at him, making his way across the room to sit in Roy’s lap. “You look like you’re at home.”

The place was nice. Private too. Roy could see himself and Danny living a pretty happy life here. The home was definitely big enough to start a family in. “I feel like I am.” Roy’s grip on Danny’s thigh tightened. “What do you think, really? Do you like this place?”

Danny happily nodded. “It’s beautiful. That backyard is sick.” Danny leaned down to catch Roy’s lips in a kiss. “And I want you to fuck me against those windows,” he growled into Roy’s mouth.

“Then we better put an offer in,” Roy smirked before rekindling their kiss.

——

Their mini vacation was everything they needed. Two days of alone time together, a possible new house, and an amazing spa day left the two refreshed and recharged.

Back at home Roy and Danny got ready for a night out at Mickey’s. Roy always looked so handsome. He was sleek in all black, the added touches of earrings and a necklace was a choice that made Danny’s mouth water.

Danny took just a bit longer to get ready, focusing more on his hair and makeup. They always ended up in the same position: Danny putting the finishing touches on in the bathroom mirror while Roy sat on the side of the tub holding Danny’s free hand until he was finished.

Warmth spread throughout Roy’s chest as he watched Danny crimp the last few pieces of his hair. He couldn’t help but to pull out his phone for a photo. Roy had an entire album of candid pictures of Danny that he loved looking back on in time’s of missing him. When he was cooped up all alone in a hotel room, remembering the moments behind each photo lightened up his day.

“All done?” Roy asked.

Danny re-crimped a piece of hair. “All done!”

“You’re beautiful, my angel,” Roy stood with Danny’s hand still in his, pecking Danny on the cheek.

Danny kissed Roy’s lips before tugging him out of the bathroom. “I’m so excited!” He pulled Roy through his apartment. “We haven’t been to Mickey’s together in forever!” The front door slammed behind them as they left for the night.

#rpdr fanfiction #biadore #adore delano #bianca del rio #fluff #soft smut #lemonade #canon compliant

[manikrege]

I reached out to the kid I bullied in school. It hurt like a bitch.

Moving places makes you realize how badly humans need closure. How hard we strive for the chapters of our lives to open & end neatly, one by one. And how much we hate cliffhangers, incomplete pages, or vague endings off the screen.

I tried to seek my closure yesterday. Because I'm moving away from the neighborhood I grew up in. Don't worry, it's nothing I'm going to miss. School sucked for me, as it did for most 'studious' kids.

Fat, nerdy, weird, and a bit on the 'girlish' side, it was like this boy entered the class wearing a cap that said, "Your new favorite target." Of course, the cool kids ganged up & left me broken. I felt all alone like a wet puppy abandoned in the rain.

So like a dog, I learned survival, the ugly way. I bit back, chewed on smaller prey. And before I knew it, became the very thing I hated the most. A bully.

Roy, let's call him that, had the same awkwardness that had made me a target. His only disadvantage was that he didn't want to fight back. This allowed me to slowly strangle him, one taunt at a time.

It started out as lame jokes that you'd expect from any teenager. Calling him "gay," laughing at his curves, making him feel unwanted. This graduated into mild jabs & punches. And then finally, one day, the five of us spent 2 straight hours 'roasting' him, stepping on every last piece of his self-confidence that we could find on the floor.

Turns out, he'd had enough & his father was at my door with an audio recording of what we thought was sublime standup comedy. I felt ashamed but cried victim, pushing the blame back onto him. Tit for tat.

We stopped playing with him after that day. He had become a traitor. I don't know if he found that liberating. And if he did, I can't imagine how fucked up that would be ... feeling happy to finally have no one you can make memories with.

I went abroad and forgot about Roy. Until yesterday when we were packing up and I saw him pass by. Something snapped. Like an ice cube being run down my neck.

As someone who has been through so many changes in the last few years, I felt an urgent need to prove to myself that I'm no longer the person I was years in 2014. I wanted to leave this shithole behind for good.

So I messaged him on Facebook.

Dear Roy,

I won't ask if you remember me because I know you do. I just wanted to say I'm really sorry for how I treated you.

There's no explanation. No my side of the story. No excuse. And they weren't just harmless jokes.

I bullied you badly and caused you a lot of pain. Practically ruined your childhood. And I don't know if you're doing better. I hope you are.

You didn't deserve any of the shit I gave you. I did it because I felt powerless myself and needed something to fill that hollow space in my days.

We moved out yesterday & I wanted you to know that I'm aware of my mistakes and although I can't change the past, I am working to heal, both myself and others. I'm part of some NGOs that help poor kids in Majiwada. I do regular activities to put a smile on their faces.

Again, I know this isn't enough or even related but I hope someday you can forgive me. Even if you can't, I understand. And I really wish that you find love, happiness, and peace wherever you go - yes you do deserve those things. I was wrong.

Please let me know if I can do anything for you.

Thanks.

He responded with that "blue thumbs up" icon. That's all. I didn't push it, either. We didn't have a heart-to-heart conversation to go over everything. I'll probably never see him again or know how he turned out to be. It just is.

So did I get my closure? As I unpack in my new room, I'm not sure if it matters anymore. Because I think human relationships are much messier than we let on. You cannot just file them into chapters.

Sometimes they'll end abruptly.

Sometimes they'll reappear again and again, unexpectedly.

And sometimes you'll find new meanings every time you go back to old pages.

More importantly, you cannot just erase the damage you do to people. You cannot say sorry hoping everything will be forgotten and forgiven. The harsh truth about scars is that they never really heal.

But someday someone will look at those scars you caused on people, and madly fall in love with them. Someone will find that pain beautiful. Someone will turn it into a source of strength and love. And you can take the first step towards making that happen - by just saying one word.

GET TO THE POINT- If you think you hurt someone, you're right 9/10 times because we're hardwired for empathy & kindness so the moment we give in to hate, our mind sends us a small hunch. So just say you're sorry. Not "sorry if I hurt you." Not "sorry but it wasn't my intention." Just. Fucking. Sorry. Own what you did. It means everything.

DON'T FORGET IT- Yes, it's best if you repent asap but even if it's 10 years later, admitting to your fuckups is the right thing to do.

DON'T EXPECT AN OK- Your sorry is about you choosing to become better. For the person in front of you, it represents lots of trauma, heavy baggage, and painful memories that they've probably suppressed or internalized. So they may not forgive you or even respond. Please respect their privacy & feelings this time. And move on.

Trust me, this was one of the hardest things I've done as an adult. That said, I think we all did stupid things when we were kids. I think we were all MADE TO DO stupid things by a select few who understood intuitively how war works. I think most of us were a form of entertainment. Puppets. Dogs in a fighting ring. Dogs trying to fit in, or be liked, or just be left alone.

Just realizing how insanely toxic this entire game was ... is probably the most obvious sign that you're growing up. I know I am. I'm actively working to be truer to the kid I was before they took him away from me. And I know it's not going to be some beautiful transformative journey away from my past like they show in the movies.

It'll be ugly, too painful to bear sometimes. Because I'll meet parts of me that I hate. Parts you'd hate if you knew them. Parts that I'd rather not be remembered for. But you know what?

Sometimes, the first step in conquering your demons is accepting that they exist.

That they make you but don't define you. That you have a choice to be kinder, sweeter, warmer. And the only thing that matters is whether you have the courage to make that choice even when the whole world is giving you a billion reasons not to.

Be that one reason everyone needs to heal.

[justformyself2]

You. Us.

Hello. I wanted to write something that would make me feel warm inside and I love Jim Halpert, so here I go. I hope it doesn't totally suck and if it does I'm sorry lol (and that includes apologies for grammar mistakes as well)

When the letters are like this it means some flashback coming your way.

When like this it means a little bit of emphasis, all right?.

.......

“I just can’t understand why you won’t tell me, nothing is going to be more embarrassing than your ‘new kids on the block’ posters.”

His laugh wasn’t enough to create comfort with where the conversation was heading. This was what? The fifth time you asked him about it, adding with the second beer and a half going down his throat and it was getting harder to make him loosen up.

“Is it Meredith?” 

You asked, playing a fool, but just like you knew the back of your hand you knew James Halpert and the way he behaved next to Pam, a huge flag he didn’t hide very well. You just wanted him to tell you. You wanted the confirmations pouring out of his lips, desperately.

“No, it is not Meredith. How is Luke by the way?” He quickly adds before you shot another question at him.

“Touché.” Your eyes roll slightly when Luke’s image burns into your brain, to play specifics, the moment when he told exactly why he was breaking up with you.

“What?” Jim asked, looking alarmed for a second and that’s because you haven’t told him yet, just like it took weeks before you could tell him you were seeing someone.

“It lasted longer than you and Katie, cheers.” You clinked your beer onto his and rested your back against the chair, waiting for the reaction with an open chest and he only licks his lips and raises an eyebrow, that’s it. The beer becomes more bitter on your tongue.

“Well you guys were dating way before I met Katie and it wasn't serious, also, I didn’t know there was an endurance competition going on here.”

“It was serious for her.” You implemented, and he sighed without anything else to respond. “I shouldn’t have come back with him on that Cruise, that was when the endurance competition really began and you lost immediately when you broke up with Miss Purse right away.”

“It was never going to work.”

Your eyes locked for a moment before he took another sip of the drink, that’s when you build up the courage.

“Because you are in love with Pam, right?”

Jim puts the drink down slowly while intensely looking at you. A fine needle pinned the center of your chest like his expression was a sort of voodoo work on you. 

“What?” The confusion mixed on his face was louder than his question. It sounded like a whisper to himself more than for you.

Confusion mixed with amusement and amusement made the left corner of his mouth start to reveal a smile that progressively turned into laughing to the point of Jim incline his torso towards the table that separated both of you.

“Are you laughing because you admire the fact that I’m a genius or because you totally lost it for being in love with an engaged woman?” 

Putting into a long sentence made you feel drunker than drinking alcohol. 

He recovers his breath, covering both of his eyes with his hands before staring at you once more.

“I’m laughing because you think you are so smart but I will give you a chance to prove what you just said because I can’t miss this, please, please tell me, (Y/N). What makes you think I’m in love with Pam?” 

He asked, still smiling, making all the confidence you had flinch.

“You laugh with her a lot. You talk to her a lot. You two keep whispering in the cafeteria together and you broke up with Katie right after Roy wanted to set up a date for their wedding, it adds up, Halpert, it adds up.”

You take a sip of the beer, needing it more than ever. His hazel eyes scanned your face going down to the table, a couple of seconds of silence was enough to make you regret everything that was said, but before you could make a joke or anything, anything else you could think of, he got up with a whole new body language.

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but it is not her.” 

He takes his wallet out leaving money on the table as you tried to get back to a minute in the past.

“Jim, please, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have... It is not my business to ask, please don’t go.”

“No, don’t worry, I see you tomorrow okay?” 

Taking the dark brown coat Jim makes his way out and disappears in the crowded bar of a Saturday night, but you didn’t think twice before grabbing your purse and also leave enough money on the table, rushing your way with ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ in the sea of bodies and strangers faces till you made it to the parking lot.

As always he was not too far from you and at the same time he was, but you always tried to catch up to him, you always do.

“Jim, wait.” You shout.

He looks behind to only give you a glance and keep walking towards the red Corolla. The guilt and slight anger started to mix at every step you got closer to him.

“JAMES.” You shouted again and this time he stops on his tracks.

“Why are you acting like this? I know that I messed up, but walking out like this was really necessary?”

Touching his left arms makes him turn to face you.

----------

“Just drop the act, (y/n). You like that I’m doing this to you, in fact, you are thanking me right now, deep down you are.”

Luke’s right leg starts to shake slightly and you hated to notice.

“And why would I thank you for exactly?” 

He moves closer to you on the couch, the brown eyes scanning your face, his cocky smile didn’t reach them this time.

“I’m not your rebound, (Y/NN). You seriously thought I wouldn’t notice?”

“What?”

----------

“Please (Y/NN), it’s okay, we talk tomorrow.”

“I want to talk right now.” 

“Please stop.”

“If it is not her than what's the problem? I know we got a little separated when I started going out with Luke. Our relationship, friendship got stranded. I just want to be able to talk about everything with you again. I don’t want to lose this...You. Us.”

“Get in the car.”

With no expression to read from him, you decided to obey instead of giving one more shot in the dark. There were no maybes, everything you thought you knew about James Halpert for the past 10 years was slipping out of your fingers like pressuring sand on your palms, you thought he couldn’t hide anything from you and you from him, that’s why you needed a Luke.

Closing the door and placing your bag on the lap you decided to only listen as you watched him taking his phone out of the glove compartment.

“I can believe you are going to make me do this in the parking lot of a bar.”

“I-.”

“Don’t.” He shut up quickly and continued. Suddenly you started to notice the little shakes on the hand he held the phone with. “If I drive i know I will make another excuse. Any stupid excuse I can think of.”

You kept quiet as he took a long breath.

“You are not completely wrong, there is something going on, but before I get into that. I just can’t understand, can’t wrap my head around the fact that you know me for 10 years and the best you could come up with was Pamela.”

“Sorr-.”

“Don’t.” He interrupts again. “(Y/N), I can’t begin to count how many times, for the past 3 years, I've been wide awake at 3 AM, trying to think why the hell I couldn’t just call her and get over with this, it doesn’t matter if her boyfriend picks up first, but actually, it did, it pretty much did, because she seemed happy without me, what kind of a fool would I be?.”

Your air gets stuck on your lungs for a bit before it starts burning and you had to let it go. Your brain trying to comprehend what was he said, trying to connect the dots while your stomach took turns in all directions. 

“She feels like home to me. God, I love her and i think this is the right moment to do this.”

“Do what?” You asked feeling a sharp discomfort on your throat. 

If your memories were a room where the proofs were well-hidden everything would be all over the place, was there someone you were forgetting about? Maybe, someone, he didn’t tell you.

“I’m calling her.” 

Without thinking twice you slapped the phone out his hand making it fly to this feet into the darkness of the car’s floor. 

“(Y/N), what the hell was that?”

“I... I have, I need to tell you something before you make that call. I- FUCK. Jim, want to know why Luke left me?”

Your insides shake like you had a cold fever, your cheeks getting hotter by the second. James rolled with eyes and rested his back on the seat without looking at you.

“Yeah, let’s talk about Luke, why not? What, do you still love him? Of course, you do, you only dated the guy for 3 years? It’s got to be a very strong bond there-.”

“He found out I was in love with you.”

The world seemed to get silent, you knew it was impossible, but why did it felt like it? Was it because he wouldn’t move or respond? Or was it you that would be silent forever? Since the only thing you wanted to say all these years was finally out of your brain, of your soul, leaving a void were once it occupied, a massive silent void. You left the car before something else took the space, something you knew it was inevitable.

Why did it felt like he was lying? All the times he spent with Pamela eating up your soul with every step further away from him, it was undeniable, they were like the same person, each day growing something while you tried to feed Luke into your brain, harder and harder. 

When you reach the sidewalk your phone starts ringing insistently.

“Fuck.” 

You curse, fighting with all of the other mess inside your purse in order to find the phone and once you do you answer it impulsively. 

“Don’t hang up.”   

You recognize his voice as your heart shrinks and you thought it was true, he could shrink till it becomes nothing inside.

“Don’t hang up because I have been wanting to do this for the past 3 years (Y/NN) and spent too many times wide awake thinking about this call. Why the hell did you get with Luke? Did you seriously not noticed? Not even once?”

“Seriously James? You got with Katie, you spent a hell lot of time with Pam, you are going to tell me you had feelings for me.”

You hear his heavy sigh.

“Well, you got with Luke and why is that obsession with Pam? She is engaged for God's sake.”

“You guys are like the same person. Also, she is engaged, not married.”

“You are right, we are very alike and she is smart, artsy, likes to pull pranks and have some amazing ideas-.”

“I’m going to hang up.” 

“No, no, I’m just messing with you. See, Pam would’ve got that.”

“Are you done?”

“Just one more thing. She can be all of those things, but she is not you (Y/NN). I’m in love with you.”

#jimhalpert #jim halpert #the office #imagine #john krasinski #mine #original story #story #imagination #interative imagine #original #god i'm hungry #this story is so cute #i hope you enjoy