#cars are made to crumple for a reason

[liquidmooniight]

saw a real cybertruck yesterday and it looked as stupid as they do in the pictures. it looks like a child's first attempt at drawing a car. its geometry would make hp lovecraft piss himself in terror. I was riding backseat to my older brother and his boyfriend and so when we saw it we all turned to rubberneck at Silly Fucking Idiot McGee, riding the Griftermobile.

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[lucyrose191]

hey i had an idea and i love your seb x reader writing so i wanted to send this to you! driver! reader has a really big accident during a race like shes in a coma for some time seb becomes this completely closed off person but he visits you everyday so one day he comes to the hospital ig and readers heart stopped or something but then she comes back to life and wakes up or she dies idk if they have kids but would be nice if they’re married. idk i leave it up to you just give me some angst pls 🙏🙏🙏

COME BACK TO ME| S.VETTEL

Pairing; Sebastian Vettel x Wife!driver!reader

Summary; Sebastian’s world is turned upside down when he finds out the reason behind the red flag, the aftermath is just as torturous as the moment he got the news.

Warnings; Serious crash (a bit like Jules Bianchi’s), angst, coma, severe injuries, Sebastian’s sad :( Also Kimi and Seb bickering like children.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that Formula One was a dangerous sport, the fans knew it, the FIA knew it and the drivers knew it; but there are decisions that need to be made in order to protect the drivers because their safety should be the number one concern.

So when the FIA decided that that the weather in Suzuka wasn’t severe enough to postpone or cancel the race, pretty much every driver was against getting back on the track, there had already been a crash and to continue was just plain stupid.

Y/N knew that everyone, including the drivers, had their eyes on her. She had won the last few seasons and was the one to beat.

She never had a problem driving in the rain, in fact most of the time it added to the thrill of the race but when you could hardly even see the steering wheel you were holding, it wasn’t fun, it was scary.

She didn’t really know what had happened, she was battling Max Verstappen who had been recently promoted to RedBull; she’s been enjoying the challenge the younger driver is offering her but there were times that she didn’t agree with his decisions, they could be extremely risky and not in a good way, in a way that could cause some serious damage to either him or someone else and it seemed that this time was one of those times that his risks had consequences.

She had been ahead of him when she felt the contact that had been made to the back of her car, it wasn’t light at all, it sent her spinning completely off the track and with the slippery track and the rain continuing to pour she could not stop the car no matter how hard she tried to gain control.

She heard the gasps of the crowd as her car flipped and spun but it faded away as she tried to keep herself from moving about too much in her car; wondering how long it would take for her to stop.

Y/N did stop, eventually, but the moment she felt the contact she knew something was wrong. It felt like she had hit a brick wall, she heard the crumpling of the car’s structure before a pain like no other filled her entire body; her head throbbed and her eyes fluttered closed, her body shrouded by the remains of her car and the heavy rain.

"Red flag, Sebastian, you’re heading into the pits," Riccardo spoke over the radio.

"Fuck sake! I told you guys we shouldn’t have been sent back out here, what happened?" To say he was angry was an understatement, for the FIA to risk the lives of every driver on this track was ridiculous and quite frankly plain stupid.

"What happened, who was it?" He asked again when he wasn’t given an answer, pulling into the pits behind the two Redbulls.

"There’s been a crash, no response," Riccardo vaguely replied.

Sebastian sighed in frustration at the lack of information and detached his steering wheel, pulling himself out of the car, he didn’t even have time to pull his helmet off before Max was walking up to him and grabbing his arms.

"Seb I’m so sorry, I lost my grip and I couldn’t control it and we just collided-"

Sebastian shook his head, cutting Max off. "What are you talking about, what happened?"

Max simply stared at Seb for a moment, guilt filling his entire body as he realised Sebastian had absolutely no idea. "Seb, it’s Y/N…."

It was as thought the world had stopped turning, Max’s voice had faded away along with the sound of the crowds and everything else around him, the only thing he heard were his racing thoughts as he remembered Riccardo’s words.

No response

No response

No response

He looked up at the big screen that was showing the wreckage live, his heart dropped, the car was completely crushed and she was still in it.

He saw as a few of the Marshalls looked towards the ground briefly before looking into the direction of the camera as they all started making the same gesture, not even a minute later the screen was shut off so that no one could see what was happening.

Sebastian didn’t register his feet moving or the drop of Max’s hand from his shoulder but the next moment he was storming into the Mercedes garage demanding for some sort of information.

If it was any other driver entering their garage without permission they would’ve been immediately kicked out but knowing that Sebastian was here for no other reason that to know if his wife was okay they didn’t mention the red race suit that stood out against everyone else’s black and white uniform.

Seeing that Sebastian was simply stood there, seemingly not knowing what to do, Toto walked over to him and directed him away from his team so that they could talk.

"There was no response over the radio so we can assume that she’s unconscious, she went into that barrier at an incredible speed and the from the damage we can see there’s no way she isn’t injured in some way so she’s going to be airlifted to the nearest hospital, okay?" He spoke in a low voice so that no one could hear besides the two of them.

Sebastian made no indication that he had registered Toto’s words but he did swallow thickly before simply walking away and making his way into his own garage; he didn’t speak to anyone, instead heading straight to his drivers room.

He has taken the quickest shower of his life and changed into regular clothes, he had no intention of getting back into that car this weekend and if anyone expected him to then they were delusional.

As soon as he walked through the doors of the hospital he was approached by an older looking nurse that seemed to have been waiting for him and he could tell by the look on her face that he wasn’t going to hear anything good.

She gestured him to follow her; she lead him into an empty hospital room and gestured for him to sit down on one of the two chairs that were underneath the window, she took the other.

"Mr Vettel, I’m going to be straight with you because I wouldn’t want anyone to beat around the bush if I was in your position. The speed and force at which your wife crashed into barrier quite frankly should have killed her so bear that in mind when I go over her injuries with you because they might sound bad but for what happened I’d say she got out lucky."

Her words cut through Sebastian like a knife, tearing into his skin to leave him vulnerable to whatever she has to say next. Though, he’s grateful she’s telling him how it is instead of sugar coating the severity of everything just so that he’s not uncomfortable, he wants to understand and be aware of what exactly has happened so he gulped and nodded for her to continue.

She didn’t look at him sympathetically which he was thankful for but her expression was comforting. "The impact shattered Mrs Vettel’s tibia and fibula in her right leg, three of her ribs were also broken and a few of them are bruised, during the crash something must have made contact with your wife’s head because when we were cutting the helmet off the back of it was already broken through and it’s caused her some severe trauma to her head."

It was as though Sebastian felt the pain with each injury that was listed, the nurse was explaining it precise and slow so that he could probably understand it but there was really only one thing he wanted to know. "Is my wife going to be okay?"

This time the nurse did look at him sympathetically as she saw the pure worry in his eyes, she could see the love he felt for the Mercedes driver and the pain that this was causing him.

"Your wife is in surgery right now to fix both bones in her leg and suture up the injury on her scalp, her ribs should heal by themselves in at least six weeks but will most likely be longer, the thing we’re most worried about however is when she’s going to wake up. Whilst the knock on her head hasn’t caused any internal bleeding, we do think that’s the reason she was unconscious and not the crash itself."

Sebastian’s blood went cold at her words, "So-what, she’s in a coma?"

The woman nodded in confirmation. "Yes, it’s hard to determine when a person in a coma is going to wake up because each person is different when they’re in a position like this and I’m aware of how difficult this is for you to hear but whilst she’s in this state, it’s really the best time for her injuries to heal and hopefully she’ll wake after the worst of the pain has passed."

"How long do you think she’ll be in the coma for?"

"It varies from person to person but I’d say anywhere between a few weeks to a few months."

Sebastian nodded his head, glancing down to his lap where he was fiddling with his wedding ring. "Thank you." He simply muttered to the nurse who took that as her cue to leave.

"Mrs Vettel will be brought here after her surgery is complete, you’re welcome to wait until then or if you wish to go and come back after they’re finished we can give you a call if-"

"I’ll wait," Sebastian interrupted her and she nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Sebastian sighed heavily into the silence of the room, placing his head in his hands; now that he was alone the strong front he had put up had disappeared, before he could stop it his eyes were watering and silent tears were falling into his hands.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that before he heard the doors to the room open and a bed was wheeled in by four or five doctors, once the bed was locked in the middle of the room all of them left but one.

The man was probably in his forties but he seemed kind enough as he regarded Sebastian. "You must be Mr Vettel?"

Sebastian hastily wiped his eyes before rubbing his hands on his legs, nodding his head.

The doctor smiled before speaking. "The surgery went well, both bones in your wife’s leg have been reconstructed but those pins will have to stay there for a month or two and afterwards she’ll need physical therapy to regain her strength back and the cut to her head has been sutured up with no issues. A nurse will come by tonight to check her vitals and ensure everything is okay, they usually do checkups every 6-8 hours but if you need something then feel free to press the button."

"I will, thank you." Sebastian smiled weakly.

"As you are her husband you can come and go as you like, you are more than welcome to have someone come and take your place when you want to go and shower or rest. If anyone wishes to come and visit then visiting hours are between 8am and 8pm, after that we only permit one person to stay."

The doctor left shortly after and after taking a deep breath Sebastian got up from his seat beneath the window and made his way to the bed.

The sight of her made him want to burst into tears all over again, she had cuts and bruises all over her face and arms, her right left was resting on a pillow but trapped inside a metal brace that was attached to the pins inside her leg, her head was bandaged to protect the stitches on from the pillow she was laying on.

She looked lifeless and the sight of it pretty much tore him in two.

He didn’t know what to do, he was here alone and the love of his life almost died.

He carefully leaned against the edge of the bed, making sure he didn’t budge anything he shouldn’t before carefully grabbing her left hand, it was bare of any rings and Sebastian hoped that they were in her driver’s room somewhere and not lost because she was so protective over them rings and would be pissed if they were lost.

He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

It was way too silent in here, he hated it.

He leaned his body forward and pressed his face into the pillow, being mindful that he wasn’t hurting her even if she was unconscious and most likely wouldn’t feel it.

"Please come back to me, Liebling. I need you so much."

Sebastian didn’t leave the hospital that night, he had dragged the chair across the room so he could spend the night beside his wife, he hardly slept instead choosing to sit and simply watch as she ‘slept’ hoping that if he stayed awake long enough then eventually she would wake up.

She didn’t.

He had countless messages from family and drivers but he didn’t answer them, he knew not answering her family was selfish but he found that he really only cared about Y/N and no one else, that and he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

He messaged her and his parents this morning explaining what the doctors had told him yesterday but had left the other messages unread.

Not once had he let go of her hand, not when the nurses came in every couple of hours to do their checkups or when they brought him something to drink or eat, most of which went untouched.

He couldn’t explain the heartache he was feeling, to have the person you love the most in the world be in such a vulnerable position was heart wrenching, especially when it was your job and vow to protect them.

He couldn’t have stopped that crash but he will make sure he is around for every step of her recovery process.

Sebastian was thankful that there wasn’t a race this week because there was no way he was leaving her in the hospital alone to get in the car, he wasn’t in the right mindset anyways.

It seemed silly that he was also thankful that there was only four races left and Y/N had already won the championship otherwise he would’ve been devastated for her.

A knock at the door tore him away from his thoughts and he assumed that it was a nurse but was proved wrong when Max walked through the door with flowers in his hand.

Sebastian pursed his lips and looked down, he couldn’t even look at the man knowing that he was the reason his wife was unconscious in the hospital.

He knew it was wrong to blame him because he had no grip and the weather was no help but he was aware of the way the younger lad drove and knew that he took unnecessary risks, risks that could’ve killed the woman he loved.

"Uhm," Max cleared his throat awkwardly. "I messaged to see if it was okay for me to come but I didn’t get an answer and I just needed to see if she was okay."

Sebastian bit his tongue which was hard when everything inside him wanted to turn and shout at the RedBull driver that this was all his fault and he had no right to come here when he was the reason she was here in the first place, and his wife didn’t even like fucking roses so be can shove them up his arse for all Sebastian cared.

"Is she okay?"

Sebastian scoffed at the question, looking up at Max as if questioning his sanity. "Does she look okay?"

Max looked at him guiltily before glancing away, not being able to stand the look of complete despair in the German���s eyes.

"Just leave," Sebastian shook his head. "My wife’s pretty much on her death bed right now because of you and I really don’t need you coming here pretending like you care when we both know that that the only thing you care about when you’re in that car is yourself, not anyone else and certainly not their lives."

Max bit back the retort that’s on the end of his tongue knowing that the man was not in the right place right now so he placed the flowers on the table by the door and took his leave.

Sebastian sighed and tipped his head back to try and stop himself from crying, he needed to stop crying, he hadn’t done anything else in the last 24 hours.

It had been a week and Sebastian had talked to no one, none of the drivers had tried to visit so he assumed that Max had warned them to stay away which he was glad.

He had left the hospital only twice to pack some clothes and essentials for the two of them, Y/N still hadn’t woken up but the bruising on her face and arms was going down and the doctors had said her ribs were healing nicely.

He had never realised how much he had depended on her and needed her until he didn’t have her to depend on.

He loved her so much and felt like he was going insane with her right next to him but not exactly there at the same time.

Shortly after Max had left that day, two nurses had came in with Y/N’s race suit, fireproofs, balaclava, gloves, boots, two halves of her race helmet and her rings.

Sebastian had wasted no time in placing her rings back onto her hand, he didn’t think she looked right without them and knew that if she woke up without them on her hand she wouldn’t be impressed.

He had almost cried again when he picked up both pieces of her helmet and saw the place where she had been stricken on the head, there was a gash that went right through the helmet and a large red stain on her balaclava that would be beneath where the hole on her helmet is.

He had told his and Y/N’s parents that there was no point in flying in to visit until she was awake and they agreed, he also assumed that the teams had all flown back to their headquarters or the next race location so he was here alone.

Quite frankly, Sebastian didn’t know what to do, there was a race in America this week and even though it was the last thing on his mind and the last thing he wanted to do he knew that he had an obligation to be there, he couldn’t just not show up and it seemed like Britta had the same idea as he saw her name pop up on his phone trying to call him, it wasn’t the first time but it seemed like she was unrelenting this time.

"What do you want?" He sighed as he pressed the phone against his ear, running a hand over his face.

"Oh, so you are alive!" Her surprised voice was way too loud in his ear.

"Just tell me what you want, Britta." Sebastian had no time or patience for her teasing or jokes.

"You need to be in America in three days, Sebastian, I understand that you don’t want to see anyone and the last thing you want to do is get in a car but you do have an obligation to be there." She told him sadly.

"I have an obligation to take care of my family, Britta, I couldn’t give a shit about racing."

"You can’t stay in Japan, Seb."

"What do you want me to do, leave her here in a different country by herself?"

"I think you should move her to a facility in Switzerland for starters so that you can at least be near home."

Sebastian stayed silent, he couldn’t argue with that logic, it probably would be better, even for Y/N so that she wouldn’t have to fly when she was awake and recovering.

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow," he told her before hanging up, not allowing her to say anything else.

The next day he had payed to have Y/N transferred to the closest hospital to where they lived in Switzerland and had flown out her parents so that they could stay with her whilst he was in America.

He had put his foot down on missing media day, he’d go Friday, Saturday and leave immediately after the race on Sunday and would call his in laws multiple times a day whilst he was gone, he was not happy about it but it was the best he could do.

They were currently waiting outside of the room whilst Sebastian said his goodbyes to Y/N, he had spoken to her everyday just on the off chance that she could hear everything that was going on around her, the last thing he wanted was for her to have to suffer in silence whilst she was in this position.

He pressed his forehead against hers, which was now bandage free, closing his eyes to relish in the contact that he wouldn’t have for the next couple of days.

"I love you so much, liebe and I’m going to be back as soon as I can. You better not wake up whilst I’m gone otherwise I’m going to be pissed off with you," he chuckled weakly knowing that is something she’d probably do.

He pressed a kiss to her head and one to the back of her hand before reluctantly getting up, grabbing his back and leaving the room, knowing that if he didn’t go now then he never would.

Sebastian knew he was pushing his limits but couldn’t find it in himself to care, it was Friday and he had arrived in America this morning but hadn’t shown up at the track until just ten minutes before FP1 started.

He had been on the phone with his mother in law as soon as he got off the plane and hadn’t hung up until a few hours later but the real reason he had left it so long to head to the track was so that he could avoid most of the cameras as he was walking in, knowing that they’d now mostly be focused on the team garages.

Speaking of teams, Y/N’s seat had been filled in by Esteban Ocon for the rest of the season, the smallest part of Sebastian felt guilty knowing that Toto Wolff had been trying to find out what was going on with his driver but Seb had made sure everything was kept under wraps.

The only people who knew how she was were family, Britta and Y/N’s PR manager, Freya and every single one of them had no intention of spilling any information.

He could feel the eyes on him and hear the muttering as he walked through the paddock, he hadn’t even been here five minutes and he was already getting annoyed by the cameras and how loud it was.

It pissed him off even more when he saw team members from other motorhomes coming out to watch as if he was going to stand there and make a grand statement to let them all know how Y/N was.

He just ignored them and walked into the Ferrari motor home to his drivers room so he could change into his race gear.

He made sure he had his helmet on before he left his room, making a clear statement that he was in no mood to talk to anyone, thankfully the team respected it and let him get straight into the car, just in time for FP1 to start.

It felt wrong, he and Y/N had a small ritual they did before they got into the car, they had done it for years and this would be the first time getting into the car without it.

"Okay, Sebastian, you’re free to leave the garage, just give Mattia a heads up when you’re ready. You’re on mediums for now," Riccardo spoke through his ear piece.

Sebastian didn’t answer but he did nod his head towards a mechanic to let him know he was ready.

He was top of the time sheet for both practises today, he wouldn’t say he had tried to be in that position, he had just channelled his frustration into his driving.

"Sebastian, top of the time sheet today, does that mean the car was feeling well for you?" The woman in front of him asked, holding out her microphone for him.

"It felt fine," he responded, he wasn’t even looking at her, he was too busy thinking about phoning Y/N’s parents when he got out of here.

"You’re back after a week off, did you end up doing anything interesting?" He was aware that the woman was trying to subtly pry information from him about Y/N and it pissed him off so he just scoffed and walked away, knowing Britta was going to have to do a bit of damage control.

"Hey! Seb! Seb!" He heard Lewis call after him but continued walking causing the English driver to have to run to catch up to him, clasping a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder to get him to stop walking.

"Hey, are you alright, mate?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes "I’d be find if everyone stopped asking me that stupid question."

"Alright," Lewis nodded, not one to get offended or hurt at the tone Sebastian used because he understood. "How’s my teammate?"

Seb raised a hand to his forehead in frustration at the question, he could feel himself losing it. "What do you want me to say, Lewis? She’s clearly not fine other wise you would’ve heard something so will you and everyone else just leave me the fuck alone."

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead walking away, hopefully to make that phone call he’s been wanting to make since the last one had ended but just as he was about to shut the door to his driver’s room, a hand caught it.

"For fuck sake, can I not get a moment alone around here!?"

"Don’t start your attitude with me," Kimi grunted and Sebastian sighed, now was not the time for him to deal with Kimi.

"What do you want?"

"I want what everyone else wants."

"Well I hate to break it to you but just because you’re my teammate doesn’t mean I’m telling you how she is."

Kimi rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on Sebastian’s bed whilst the latter was looking around for his phone.

"That’s not what I was talking about, I’m talking about the mood you’re in, you need to get out of it and get a grip, that’s what Y/N would want, not you walking around and sulking ruining everyone else’s day."

Sebastian shot him a dirty look. "You don’t know what she’d want and neither do I right now because she’s in the hospital, and if anyone has a problem with my attitude I’m perfectly fine with them staying away from me."

Kimi sent him a sarcastic smile, matching his attitude. "Well I have a problem with it cause you took my personality."

"What?"

Kimi sighed and stretched out. "You know how exhausting it is to have to be the happy one out of the two of us, that’s supposed to be your job but since Y/N’s crash, I have to be that person and I’m sick of it."

"Well I’m sorry that my wife’s injuries are such an inconvenience to you," Sebastian rolled his eyes.

Kimi groaned in annoyance, "you are so fucking annoying without her."

"Thanks, I’ll tell Minttu you said that." Sebastian replied sarcastically, now having his phone in his hand.

"Go for it," Kimi shrugged. "When Y/N wakes up I’ll tell her how much of an arsehole you’ve been."

Seb ignored him and pressed his phone to his hear, waiting for his mother in law to pick up for an update.

He had finished P4 in the race that weekend and had gotten straight on a flight back to Switzerland, skipping his post race interviews in the media tent.

He hadn’t even called Y/N’s parents after the race for an update, instead settling for a simple text in the airport when he was boarding the plane; both of them were picking him up from the airport and taking him straight to the hospital, he was strangely looking forward to being able to see her again, even if she was still in a coma.

He was happy that his flight had quite literally flown by and was sitting in the car behind his in laws just twenty minutes after landing.

"How is she?" He immediately asked.

"She’s okay, the doctors have said she’s healing up nicely." Y/N’s dad told him, the news relaxing him a bit.

"Are you guys coming in?" He asked as he held the car door open, surprised when he saw them both shaking their heads.

"We’ll come by tomorrow, you should have some time alone with her."

Sebastian nodded and bid them goodbye, actually happy that they had chosen to do that because after not seeing her for a couple of days, some time alone was what he needed.

He practically ran through the hallways of the hospital, care workers saw him but chose not to reprimand him as they were aware of who he was and how eager he probably was to see his wife.

He exhaled heavily when he got to the closed door of her room, standing there for a few moments to calm down a bit.

When he pushed open the door, he got the shock of his life.

Y/N was lying there in her hospital bed with her leg still resting on a pillow as it had been for the last two weeks but this time, the top of her bed was raised to put her in a sitting position, she had oxygen tubes in her nose but her head was turned towards the door he had just walked through and she was looking at him!

She was clearly very sleepy and tired but her eyes were as open as far as she could hold them and she was looking at him with a sleepy smile on her face.

She blinked slowly at him for a moment as he stared before holding out her hand for him and he took that as his cue to move towards her.

"Hi baby," she mumbled through a smile, not really having the energy to say anything more but it was enough for Sebastian’s eyes to start watering as he collapsed onto the chair that was beside her bed, grasping her hand in his own.

He raised his other to her cheek and softly stroked the skin there, smiling through his tears as he felt her lean into his touch.

"Hi," he breathed in disbelief, "How long have you been awake?" He whispered, fearing if he spoke any louder it would hurt her.

"Before the race, I watched it," she told him as though she was proud of herself was waking up in time to see it.

"Yeah? What did you think?" He humoured her, not really wanting to talk about the race but it seemed to make her happy so he did.

"You did good," she told him, subtly rubbing her thumb across his hand.

Sebastian simply smiled at her, he wiped his face on his arm to get rid of his tears before looking back at her again with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

"I love you so much." He told her surely, as though she may have forgotten whilst she was in the coma.

"Ich liebe dich auch," she replied back softly making him laugh, she always said it in his native language because she thought it would feel more real for him to hear.

"Are you tired?" He asked when he noticed her fighting to keep her eyes open.

Y/N nodded slowly before looking at him. "Come and lay with me," she told him.

Sebastian shook his head softly even though he wanted nothing more than to cuddle with her. "That’s probably not a good idea, liebe."

"When has that ever stopped you?" She pouted but rose an eyebrow at him.

He couldn’t argue with her there so he got up from his seat, protesting when she tried to move and make room for him.

He climbed in next to her and lightly wrapped his arm around her, she scooted closer and carefully adjusted her top hand so that her head was resting against him.

Sebastian rested his head against hers, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Liebe?" He asked, earning a slight hum in return.

"Don’t listen to anything Kimi says, he’s a liar."

"Hm’kay, Seb." She muttered, already pretty much asleep.

"I missed you so much," he muttered against her, carefully tightening the arm he had wrapped around her,

He wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight again.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[adore-laur]

sorry if there are any mistakes english is not my first language!

dadrry idea - harry and y/n together with the children go to a get-together at a restaurant with friends and family and in the middle of the get-together the younger baby starts crying with hunger just as the food arrives and harry goes out of his way to help y/n /n to eat while y/n breastfeeds, and to help the older baby eat too! you can add something if you want

——

You were at a new restaurant that Harry had picked out for lunch, and you didn't know if it was the humidity in the air, but you had two incredibly fussy children wanting to make your first outing as a family of four a tricky one. The outdoor seating area was packed with people taking advantage of the weekend's beautiful weather. You counted yourself lucky to have found any available seating at all. You suspected Harry might have pulled a few strings since he knew the business and employees well, but he kept his lips tightly zipped.

Going to a restaurant used to be an untroubled experience before you had kids. It was a simple sequence—sit down, order drinks and a meal, and talk together without any disruptions. When the first baby came, supervising a newborn in any public place hadn't been without its fair share of stressful moments. Many trips to the bathroom to breastfeed or change a diaper made you feel prickly with anxiety. There was also the crippling fear of your baby having a piercingly loud meltdown and annoying the people around you. It was why you relied on Harry to make these trips with you, whether it was grocery shopping, a stroll through the park, or going out to eat. You needed him to be the calming force. You needed his gentle methods of diffusing the cries.

When the second baby came along while your first was at peak toddler stage, the mere thought of going to a restaurant or store by yourself was daunting. Horrible thoughts battered your brain. What if a temper tantrum happens? What if I lose one of them? What if they get kidnapped right in front of my eyes? Progressively, the thoughts became more unrealistic, but they successfully kept you from venturing out alone with the two vulnerable halves of your heart. You wouldn't risk their safety by selling yourself as overconfident in your motherly capabilities.

Now, you had your toddler incessantly saying "mom" while your three-month-old baby squirmed in your arms, quietly whimpering near your breast. She was awfully close to making her cries known to every single person in the restaurant. Harry sat across from you, your eldest by his side with an abandoned coloring sheet crumpled in front of her. Phase One of her tantrum involved throwing a fit over the restaurant not providing a magenta-colored crayon. She whined and sulked until Harry set her on his lap and distracted her by having her recite the colors of the rainbow in order. It worked, but only for a brief moment.

Phase Two was when you were dragged into it. You had been to blame for her coloring sheet disaster, and while you simply told her that magenta wasn't a common color, she knocked over her sippy cup in protest of your reasonable explanation. She expected you to have an answer for every question in the universe.

Phase Three was happening right now. Her desperate attempts to get your attention were needling under your skin and whittling away at your patience. The meals hadn't been served yet, and the hunger and heat you felt were like little volcanoes waiting to erupt. One more spike of overstimulation and you'd lose the last shreds of your poise.

You shifted in your seat, and when your newborn let loose that first wail, you stared at the cloudless sky and swallowed roughly. When you looked back down, you saw Harry eyeing you with steady focus. He knew the exhaustion was catching up. Last night had been full of anxiety and insomnia, which never paired well. It was a rarity that you were able to muster the energy to step out of the house today.

"Do you want to go to the car?" Harry asked, knowing the telltale signs of a hungry baby all too well.

You shook your head. "I can feed her right here."

He grabbed the nursing cover from under the stroller and handed it to you. Your eldest was stretching her limbs impatiently, still on his lap, and you were counting down the seconds until she became overwhelmed too.

After putting the nursing cover on and letting your baby latch, the food arrived. It looked delectable, but your appetite had somehow vanished within the past ten minutes. With the mind-body connection, you assumed your stress and frazzled hormones were messing with your stomach.

While you held the baby, Harry stabbed his fork into your tossed salad and brought a serving of iceberg lettuce, chicken, and cherry tomatoes up to your mouth. "Eat," he said softly.

You could handle small bites, so you accepted his offering and munched on the crispy vegetables. It was a meal just light enough to settle nicely.

Back and forth, Harry fed you, his eldest, and also himself. She was calmer now, more interested in her kid-size chicken tenders than whatever she was angry about. In her floral summer dress and pigtails, she was a cute little menace. The toddler stage was chaotic in the best way.

Your mind drifted to Harry as you watched him make your daughter laugh with his silly antics, her lips no longer pouting. He had the dad thing down pat when his girls got fussy, and he always checked in with you first to make sure you were all right. He knew your emotions lingered longer than a child's brief outburst, so you appreciated his attentiveness now more than ever.

After lunch, which had thankfully been peaceful once everyone's bellies were full, you all walked along the nearby Santa Monica coast to soak up the sunshine and refreshing ocean breeze.

Harry had the baby cuddled against his chest in a sling, which was a miracle worker for nap time, while you pushed the stroller with a nearly asleep toddler in it. You guessed tantrums were exhausting sometimes—hopefully, that meant the car ride home would be serene.

"Harry," you said from beside him. He never liked walking in front of or behind you. "Thank you for earlier."

He glanced over, practically glowing under the sun's mild presence. "What did I do?"

With a smile reserved just for him, you answered, "You take care of us." Guilt got the best of you when you added, "And I'm sorry for not being able to step up to the plate."

It consumed you in your weakest moments, but you didn't have to deal with it alone. Harry was there to shoulder it and shelf it for later.

"Sweetheart, you're the one who gave me these babies," he said, reaching his hand out for yours. You took it, and you instantly felt grounded. "You're the one who keeps them fed and healthy. You will always be the most important person to them."

"It's hard to believe it sometimes."

Harry squeezed your hand three times. "Then I'll be here to remind you every day. We'd be lost without you."

——

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. baby’s first beach day.

about. girl dad!bakugou takes his baby girl to the beach!

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, beach days, minor hint at having more babies, reader is called momma, afab!reader, pro hero + girl dad!bakugou.

thinking about bakugou taking his baby girl to the beach for the first time.

how he’ll laugh heartily at the face she makes when her itty bitty toes touch the sand for the first time. he’s holding her just under her arms so that her feet graze over the soft sand as he keeps her pink tutu swimming costume away from it. “she looks just like you!” you’ll tell him when her face crumples and her nose scrunches because what is this and why is it between my toes.

your one year old really takes after him, grumpy in his arms for most of beach day, her chubby cheek pressed against his pec while bakugou lathers her up with a baby safe sun screen (almost the highest spf factor) because he doesn’t want her to burn. “i know baby, s’cold ain’t it. don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” he tilts his head, smiling down at her to soothe the first notes of her hiccups. all the while, rubbing over her back in the way that babies like.

you’ll catch them napping in the sun right after, both of them snoring up a storm while catching some shut eye behind their matching shades. you send a picture to mitsuki who instantly makes it her whatsapp profile picture because she can’t help but want to show off her strong bakugou genetics.

the two of them take to the water after a lunch of homemade tuna sandwiches and baby formula — you warn katsuki to be careful with her by the sea and he only winks, using baby girl’s hand to wave at you. “we’ll be good, don’t worry momma.” the whole time they stay by the shore and bakugou regretfully gives her a spade to fling wet sand in his face with her wobbly motor functions.

but it’s totally worth it for him to hear her screaming laughter, and watch her kick her tiny feet in the small pool of salty water. you’ll admit, seeing your husband dripping wet as he makes his way back up to your beach towels with your baby snuggled against him does something to the darkest parts of your soul.

it seems that bakugou knows that too, smirking at you while you give him bedroom eyes from behind your own shades.

when the sun sets, bakugou is careful with his steps as the three of you head back up the beach and towards your car. little baby bakugou is all tuckered out, her ‘deku’ sun hat askew atop her sun-kissed curls. she whines unhappily when you pull her away from his chest to strap her back into her car seat — mindful of the sand. a daddy’s girl through and through.

“d’ya think she had fun today?” bakugou asks you, closing the trunk while you fiddle with the car seat, double checking that she’s secure.

you look up at your husband — the man you’ve loved for half your life and the reason you’re responsible for another. “she’ll remember this, even if she’s only little.” you tell him wistfully, wrapping your arms around his neck (as he does with your waist) once he’s made his way over to you. “you really made her day, i’ve never seen her smile so much.”

bakugou blushes, swooping down to kiss you against the cool metal of your family sized car. “you’re the best, momma.”

“and you’re the best, daddy.” grinning against his lips, you swipe a bit of sand from his cheeks — content that your first family beach day was a complete success.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[tsukimefuku]

CHAPTER THREE PT. I: DIMINISHED CAPACITY ❀ HIGURUMA SENSEI SERIES

masterlist link | mdni!

❀ diminished capacity.

Diminished capacity refers to an individual’s impossibility to form the intent necessary for committing any criminal act, because their capacity to fully comprehend the nature of their actions is impaired. It doesn’t, however, completely exclude their responsibility, and they may be held accountable to a lesser offense.

wc: 5.7K ❀ pairing for the series: professor!higuruma x student!reader

❀ tags and c/w.

non-curse au. college au. slow-burn romcom. professor and college student pre-relationship. reader is lowkey obsessed. mentions of hypothetical violent crime. exams suck. higuruma has an old car. law firm shenanigans ensue.

❀ notes etc.

Thank you so much @ratiopoetry. If it wasn’t for you, this chapter wouldn’t exist, so a big, fat, huge thanks. You reminded me of the reason I started writing this (and why I write at all) in the first place. 💛

also, some love for the betas: @redlikerozez and @sandsorghum thank you both!

You sat there staring blankly during Higuruma’s class. He was definitely teaching… something. You had no idea what, though.

More importantly, you were laser focused on one thing, and one thing only — his crooked tie.

Burgundy, satin. Slightly bent to the left. Crumpled underneath the knot, bulging inwards. It kept pushing up anytime he moved his arms to write on or gesture towards the white board behind him.

Just enough to make you want to stretch out your hands and touch it. Straighten it.

Probably a regular black tie or even a navy blue one would’ve suited him better. 

 Worked up and yapping continuously about something that was clearly important, Higuruma would pace back and forth, and all that you wondered was how the hell this man with dozens of academic accolades didn’t know how to properly tie a tie.

That single piece of attire seemed to mock you. The off-putting dip underneath the knot looked like a cocky smile.

It was all made worse when Higuruma mindlessly tugged his fingers around it. The tie bent even further from the center.

For fucks sake.

After a while, you gave up on trying to pay any mind to his class, and let the time slide off the clock’s hand until the bells went off and you were finally free to go. 

Before you could bolt your way out of there and leave this weird obsession behind, though, he spoke.

“Hey, Sanrio.”

Is he calling me Sanrio for real now?

Your cheeks flushed a dusty pink, and you were glad that nearly all of the students had already left the classroom. You gulped and turned calmly from your half done backpack to face him.

“Yes, Professor?”

“I need to speak with you, if you may,” he replied, signaling for you to approach him.

Your throat tightened, and you wondered if this could be related to the debacle from a few nights before. After all, this was the first time you saw each other after you unceremoniously gave him a pure vodka shower.

Then patted him dry with your scarf.

And spent a few moments holding hands.

Damn. 

He sat over his desk while crossing his arms, and your eyes were instantly drawn to his forearms, the way they softly bulged in that position, every corded muscle visible with his sleeves rolled up, his veins perfectly protruded down his forearm, all over the back of his hand, and his tie-

“Did you listen to anything I just said?”

Only then you registered that he was actually saying something, and you didn’t catch a word.

“Oh, no. I mean, I wasn’t… I got distracted.”

“I can see that. Actually, I wanted to ask if everything is okay, you seem off today,” he inquired, softly tilting his head to the side. His eyes landed first on your face, and slowly made their way down your body. For a second, you wondered if he was checking you out, or if it was just your imagination.

The thought had you blushing even deeper, because of course not, this is not happening, what the hell is wrong with me-

“Sanrio, you’re doing it again.”

“What?”

“Zoning out while I’m speaking to you.”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I must’ve been distracted.”

“With what?”

And he did ask it in earnest.

Distracted with you checking me out, and your forearms, and the way you tug that goddamn burgundy satin around your perfect neck, and-

“Your tie.”

One of his eyebrows slowly peaked up in disbelief.

“My… tie?”

For a second, you wished for a hole to be magically conjured right underneath your feet just so you could bury your head in it like an ostrich. Not the smartest defense mechanism devised by nature, but definitely one that would save you some embarrassment at that moment.

He cleared his throat, and you could just about die not knowing what he — or anyone, for that matter — could reply to whatever that was. 

“Do you want to… straighten it?”

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

Completely dumbfounded, you wondered if that was just mockery. Or a poorly executed joke, since he seemed to be a professional at cracking those.  

“If it’s so distracting, come on over here and straighten it,” he repeated, almost like a dare, holding your gaze. Sure enough, there was not an ounce of jest in that man’s face.

Disconcerted, you slowly walked in his direction, and as you lifted your hands towards his neck, Higuruma tilted his jaw up, projecting his neck muscles and making all of his tendons much more apparent.

At the same time, your teeth clenched, your mouth watered and your hands stuttered.

“Is there any problem?” The Professor asked while raising a curious eyebrow.

His voice sounded sultrier than usual. Suspiciously raspy and velvety. Is he doing it on purpose?

You simply nodded while your brain short circuited, and the more you tried to steer away the thoughts of how much you had the hots for the Professor, the more you wanted to tug on that tie and-

“There, straightened,” you whispered in a rush, eyes glued to the floor, ready to bolt away and leave all your belongings behind, even if you were still clutching his tie in between your fingers as if holding onto a lifeline. 

An unnecessarily sexy lifeline.

Before you could leave, though, he held your shoulder with one hand while tilting your face up by pushing his index finger under your chin, catching you completely off guard.

“Are you in a rush? Do you have some place else to be?”

Absolutely not hallucinating. He was, indeed, making a move on you, and his gaze slid down slowly towards your lips. “We still haven’t talked about that night. And how you left some lipstick on the cigarette you lit up for me.”

Nothing but a pathetic whimper left your lips. He smiled.

“Is this the same one?” Higuruma asked, flickering his eyes between your gaze and your lips.

“S-same… what?”

“Lispstick.”

It felt like you were in a plane cabin and it had just depressurized. 

I have to leave, I can’t do this, this is highly inappropriate behav-

You nodded. His smile widened.

“Perfect. Now I can taste it from the right place.”

Your stomach dropped further and your heart thumped in your chest, skipping more than just a few beats as it drummed enough to have the space around you both grow even quieter to your ears.

Rational thought had abandoned you as your grip tightened around his tie, your eyes dropping to his mouth. Higuruma seemed pleased, and slid one of his hands to the nape of your neck while carding his fingers through your hair, bringing his other hand down behind you to cup your lower back. You softly jumped in surprise, and he wasted no time into pulling your body against his, having you instantly feeling his warmth all over you.

As you both inched closer to each other, you could smell some of his aftershave on his skin, and his minty breath, and his cologne impregnated all over his clothes, and…

This smells like my laundry detergent…?

The bells went off again.

This time, however, it was your morning alarm yanking you out of sleep as your face sunk into your pillow like a rock in a lake.

Peeling your eyes open to the unforgiving light that flooded into your dorm room, you slowly propped yourself up from the mattress. Your laptop was open by the edge of the bed, and on the screen, you found your shame displayed in between three different types of ads containing huge twerking asses in 4K.

You had most likely passed out on top of your vibrator the night before and wondered if the kinky Professor x Student role play porn on your anon tab was the reason you dreamt… that. Especially considering that today you had a criminal procedure lecture with the star of the M-rated movie your horny mind cooked just for you.

Is there anything worse than meeting someone you shouldn’t be interested in right after having those types of dreams with them?

Fun. So fun.

At least this time life spared you the little mercy of having no company after Nobara decided to sleep over at Maki’s again.

Carrying yourself with the few shreds of dignity you still had, you rolled out of bed, and while getting ready for that day’s class, a realization suddenly dawned on you.

Where is my red scarf?

***

Higuruma’s car.

The beat up 2015 Toyota Passo had a lot of personality as an old piece of junk that failed on the road more often than not, but even so, it had been his reliable companion for nearly a decade. Its glossy navy blue paint was covered in dirt, and Higuruma wondered to himself as he entered the vehicle that morning if he should perhaps take it out for a wash, which, in all fairness, he never did. The rain will wash it clean was his motto, one that rarely proved itself to be true.

His car was always crawling with old food wraps, random papers, spare change and some clothes. While Higuruma looked frantically for something to wrap around his neck in the cold — a beaten up old yellow shawl all weaved in sunflower patterns he received as a gift from his grandmother —, his phone rang.

Using a makeshift bluetooth haphazardly rigged up to the radio, Higuruma answered the call while twisting his arm beside the passenger seat.

“Hello, who is this?”

“It’s Kento, good morning.”

“Morning. May I ask why such an early call?” Higuruma asked with a strained voice while he dove down his seat, a hand reaching between the passenger seat and the handbrake.

“It’s not early. Actually, I thought I’d find you at the campus, but since you weren’t in the teacher’s lounge, I’m calling.”

“Oh, I’m just… late,” Higuruma muttered under a tense breath, still bending himself over while prying his scarf out of its death trap underneath the seat beside him.

“I figured that much. Are you on your way?”

“Kind of.”

Nanami found that reply to be suspicious, especially considering his friend’s usual antics.

“… Did your car break down again?” Nanami asked with a hint of judgement to his inquiry. If the Toyota Passo had a hater club, Nanami would be its president, especially considering all the times he found himself stranded with Higuruma by roadsides while on past trips. This was the main reason Nanami would never be caught dead taking a ride with his best friend nowadays if he could help it.

“Shh, don’t say that. It can hear you,” Higuruma chastised while half joking, being more acquainted with Murphy’s Law than he’d like to admit. It had turned him into a somewhat superstitions man, at least when it came to the Passo.

“Hiromi, that’s not how cars work.”

“You can’t know that for sure,” he quipped. Hearing Nanami sigh on the other side of the line was an amusement that served him some semblance of comfort as he battled his way through his current predicament. “Now, what did you want to speak to me about anyway?” 

Hitting just the right slant, Higuruma felt the already familiar wool-weaved pattern on the tips of his fingers.

“Well, it’s about what I told you last Friday,” Nanami ensued.

“Go on.”

As Higuruma contorted his limbs and spine on the driver’s seat in some sort of malevolent pilates while searching for a better position to pull his shawl up, he slowly elevated his arm with a firm grip on the thing, doing his best to not have it tangle on its way out. 

“We’ve allocated some revenue to open more departments in the Firm, and to make some changes to others. I’d like your input, if at all possible.”

Higuruma’s tie contracted uncomfortably around his neck with every wiggle his body made, prompting him to pull around it in a feeble attempt to not have his windpipe crushed. It worked, but barely, messing up his already disarrayed outfit even further.

“My input?” he asked, taken aback while adjusting himself in his seat. “I mean, I’d like to help, but I don’t know if my input is what you’re looking for. I didn’t have that many years of experience as a private lawyer.”

“But you do have a lot of experience dealing with a team of people working with you, and impossible criminal cases absolutely no one would accept.”

“One intern and one assistant,” Higuruma noted, “and those cases weren’t impossible. No case is, even in our Justice System.”

Nanami smiled softly before replying. “Okay, ‘remarkably challenging lawsuits’, then. In any case, we’re creating a criminal law defense department, and considering your experience, you input would be much appreciated.”

Higuruma managed to haul nearly the entire shawl out of its hideout, but before he could consider himself victorious, it got stuck.

He sighed.

“My input or my participation, Kento?” Higuruma asked, even if it wasn’t an actual question. “I know you. You’re not that smooth when attempting to get me on board for something. I remember all the times you casually mentioned a group project in college — which all coincidentally had themes I was studying in depth at the time — while trying to act all nonchalant about it.” 

Nothing gets past him, Nanami thought to himself at being caught red handed.

“Yes, I’d like your participation.”

Higuruma stopped in his tracks, and placed the pulled-up end of the shawl over the passenger’s seat, propping himself up to sit. In silence, he brushed his fingers over his temples, and remained like this for a few seconds, not realizing how his whole body had stiffened up like dried bamboo.

“Kento, I don’t think that’s a good idea, I just…” Higuruma mumbled as he let his forehead lay over the steering wheel.

“Do you trust my judgement?”

Nanami’s question came without missing a beat.

“Of course I do,” Higuruma replied, “I don’t know if I trust myself.”

“Let me worry about that,” Nanami interjected, “I’ve gotten other attorneys on board that can work with us. With you.”

With an uncertain hum, Higuruma cleared his throat.

“I’m… late. I should get going. And sort my damn scarf situation. It’s awfully cold today.”

“That hideous little thing with the sunflowers?” Nanami’s disdain was evident, and Higuruma chuckled.

“Morning, Kento.”

With that, the Professor ended the call, and put his whole mind to solving his current dilemma.

As a final Hail Mary, Higuruma held all he managed to pry out with a firm grip, and slowly descended his other hand, feeling his way over the piece in an attempt to find whatever was hooking it.

Quickly enough, his fingers met something else entirely. It had a softer texture, almost like old frizzly, worn out cotton.

Well, I think I’ve found the culprit.

With a careful tug, he pulled everything out, and a snaky, crimson, polka dot fuzzy worm surprised him. Upon further inspection, Higuruma realized that such horrid sight was actually your ugly red scarf entwined with his sunflower shawl.

This… what? How did her scarf end up here? 

Blinking once, then twice, the Professor found himself still completely dumbfounded. For a moment, Higuruma wondered if this was all a figment of his imagination. That is, until he recalled last Friday, and remembered you used your scarf to pat him dry after an accidental alcoholic skin care routine.

Out of all the things I could’ve picked up by accident, this is what I got? This hideous little thing? 

He snorted at the red polka dot scarf while holding it with the tips of his fingers, wondering if you’d really care to have this back.

Smiling to himself, Higuruma remembered the exchange, your laughter, and his eyes slid towards the cigarette butt from that day. It was currently shoved into the ashtray he kept right in front of his handbrake.

He noticed there was still a faint red stain around it. Against his better judgement, his mind wandered for a moment as he reminisced on the occasion, and how smoking that cigarette left a soft tinted smudge on his lips too, one that he noticed upon arriving home that night and looking at himself in his elevator’s mirror.

I… really shouldn’t. 

Shaking the thought away, Higuruma mindlessly spoke to himself as he turned the engine on.

“I have to give this back to her.”

If only his memory didn’t betray him just like his car — more often than not.

After an uneventful drive, Higuruma stood in front of the white board ready to resume his criminal procedure class as all of the students made their way into the classroom, including you. 

Picking a seat not too close to the main stage, you noticed that Professor Higuruma had his back turned to the rest of the class as he wrote something on the white board. That day, from what you could tell, he was wearing just a plain white buttoned shirt and linen black slacks, not accounting for a coat and whatever else he had haphazardly tossed over his desk like a ball of garments.

There seemed to be a small red something tangled right under his coat. 

Your dream prickled you in the back of your mind, and you cleared your throat trying to feign off the thoughts.

This is real life, at a real class, and not my Orpheus domain. This is real life… You kept repeating mentally to yourself, like a mantra. Even if his shirt draped perfectly over his shoulders and highlighted his slender build.

I’ll just focus on today’s class and that will get my mind out of the gutter.

Higuruma stepped back from the white board and the word “truth” was written on it. Before you could think anything about today’s main topic, though, he turned around to face the students, and your day just became that much more awkward.

For a second, you couldn't truly believe your eyes.

His tie — which at least wasn’t burgundy, nor satin — was crooked. Actually, truly crooked in the real life of real events during a very much real class.

My life is a bad joke and I’m the punchline.

You straightened your posture in your chair with the sudden piercing, delusional self-awareness that anyone who looked at your face would know telepathically what you were thinking, because your cheeks felt suspiciously warm. You tried brushing your bangs down your face to no avail, and a small lock of hair poked out of it like a sore thumb.

In an attempt to distract yourself from that nonsense, you tried as best as you could to check how Higuruma was looking like today — apart from the crooked tie, that was — and noticed his hair was more disheveled than usual. It seemed like he hadn't shaved for at least two days.

Finally, Higuruma ensued his grand introductory lecture on the value of truth for criminal proceedings, and you were actually listening to it.

Good. Deja vu is not Deja-vuing enough. I’m fine. This is fine.

“Truth. Who can tell me the three main concepts of truth in western philosophy?” Higuruma asked while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

You saw a familiar hand raising in the very front row, and Higuruma nodded for the person to proceed. 

“The three main concepts of truth are the correspondence, coherence and consensus ones,” Megumi answered. 

“Exactly. The relevance of truth in legal proceedings has been an ongoing debate for centuries, and some lines of thought even consider it to be completely irrelevant. We won’t be tackling that. For those who think truth is important, the most well established position is that truth as correspondence is the one we should strive for, even if our true knowledge of facts that occurred in the past through evidence can be, at best, approximate.”

A few people nodded, and Higuruma continued his exposition.

“Truth as correspondence… In simple terms, a statement can be considered to be true if it corresponds to a fact that has happened in the real world. For example, by this, if I say ‘today I was at class at the inhumane time of 07:05AM’, and here we are at that very same time, it means my statement is true. In criminal proceedings, the truth finding task revolves around verifying if a crime has occurred or not, and in order to do such verification, we need evidence,” he paused for a moment and pulled a bottle of water from his briefcase, carefully putting it over his desk, “and one of the main types of evidence in criminal proceedings are witnesses’ testimonies.”

You were able to follow his exposition so far, and not get distracted by the crooked black ti-

Exposition. Truth. Witnesses. Focus, woman.

You could still feel the lingering sensation of his dreamt tie in between your fingers, and it wasn’t doing you any favors.

“What is a testimony? A testimony is basically someone’s account of an event they have witnessed, and formed a memory of through their senses — sight, hearing, etc. In that regard, it’s safe to say testimonies are a type of evidence that depends on memory, and human memory is fallible. What we can apprehend through our senses and actually remember is deeply affected by what we can or choose to focus on,” Higuruma concluded. 

Your eyes involuntarily dropped to his tie once again. 

Goddammit.

The class was considerably peaceful so far, and you wondered if he would require a victim for his usual slaughter sessions. It would certainly serve the purpose of getting your mind out of your fantasies. Fantasies about running your fingers down the fabric of his clothes, clutching them, crumpling everything in the messiest-

“You.” 

His voice fished you out of your daydreams and into the very much real and concrete reality presenting itself. Subconsciously — involuntarily, perhaps — his finger pointed in your direction, and you knew you’d be the prey for that class’ expository capers.

“Please, step forward,” Higuruma asked as he stood beside his desk.

You did like you were told, as a robot would, and walked in his direction, ready for whatever insanity he had to throw your way this time. Perhaps a marker for the white board. Or the water bottle.

“So,” Higuruma proceeded, “we need police to retrieve information from people that may have witnessed a crime in order to investigate it. That’s usually how investigations begin.” He quickly paused to check if everyone was following, and resumed his explanation, “after the investigation is completed and someone is actually charged or indicted, these same people, the witnesses, will be asked to repeat what they told to police right in front of the judge or a jury. The main question is… how reliable is that initial information relayed to the police at the beginning of it all? How reliable are these testimonies that give the very foundation for a criminal proceeding to exist in the first place?” 

You didn’t know the answer to that question. You knew nothing, really, staring dumbly at your feet while trying to not make a fool out of yourself.

 Before you knew, Higuruma grabbed the water bottle that was on top of his desk and approached you. When he was about a foot away from you, his cologne seeped into every neuron dedicated to smelling you had inside your nostril. Musky, fresh, and-

I can’t deal with this.

You tried fixating your eyes on the bottle of water he seemed to be giving you — anything but his face, his eyes, his nose.

His tie.

When you touched the bottle, he retreated it, and you felt somewhat confused. Then, he leaned it towards you again, you tried grabbing it again, and he retreated it once more. 

Is he teasing? What… what is he doing?

“Do you guys see where I’m getting at?” Higuruma asked, pointing towards the water bottle.

He was met with silence.

Higuruma then pointed at you, and your focused gaze on the bottle that was damn near boring a hole through it. “This is what we call the ‘focus on the gun effect’. You can all see that so far, her eyes pay more attention to what I’m holding than on any of my features. If this were a gun in a stressful scenario, it would probably only heighten such effect even more.”

Sir, this is a stressful scenario.

Your eyes flickered to his tie right before landing on the bottle again, and he did notice your gaze wondering elsewhere, but didn’t think much of it. 

“So at the moment she’d be testifying and was asked to describe my features, how well do you all think she’d be able to do it, if she hasn’t paid any attention to my face, focusing only on object I was holding? How trustworthy would such a testimony actually be?”

Tired hangdog eyes, aquiline nose, thick black frame glasses, white dress shirt crumpled at the hem, loosened black tie crooked to the right, criminally good-looking forearms, black linen pants-

“You can go back to your seat,” he remarked, and you did your best not to stumble on your way back.

The rest of the class went on painlessly, and by the end, Higuruma sat at his desk, lumbering back on his chair. He pushed aside the bundle of coat-and-other-stuff-in-a-ball, took his briefcase and opened it up to grab a pile of paper sheets from it. Upon further inspection, you gulped, knowing full well what those were.

“Before you all go, for those who are also my criminal law students, please come by my desk and take your corrected exams with you.  Give some special attention to the questions you got wrong, I made a list of the most common mistakes in these and will start off our next criminal law lesson by correcting them with the class.”

Shortly after, a line formed in front of Higuruma’s desk, and one by one, each student took their exams in their hands, either grunting displeased or sighing relieved with their result, leaving the classroom subsequently. You occupied yourself with slowly putting your things into your backpack, knowing full well that the walk towards that exam — and how poorly you did in it — would feel like a walk of shame. Only after the line was nearly done that you actually made your way to it, dragging your feet each step closer to what felt like doom.

“Good morning, Professor,” you mumbled as you reached for your exam and picked it up.

“Good morning,” he offered, bowing his head.

For the lack of a better term, your exam sheet looked like a crime scene, completely scribbled with red pen ink all over it. The discontent in your expression must’ve been incredibly evident, because Higuruma  spoke immediately.

“You know, these tests don’t truly assess your actual knowledge of a subject. Not entirely. It’s also about knowing how to take the test, and how the questions are phrased.”

You nodded half-heartedly. 

“Mm-mhm, I know. I just… I felt like nearly every question here could have-”

“Two answers?” He promptly interjected.

“Yes!”

He acquiesced.

“In criminal law, most things are determined by which line of thought one chooses to interpret a topic. You were not the only student to struggle with this, don’t worry. It’s easier to learn how to take a test than to learn the actual subject,” Higuruma offered, and as you looked at him, he welcomed your gaze with a soft smile.

“Is it?” you inquired, shoving the sheet of paper into your backpack. You looked back at him, and your eyes involuntarily dipped towards his tie. You averted your gaze while silently coughing. 

My future is on the line and here I am obsessing over a stupid tie. God.

He lifted a brow, intrigued, and continued.

“Absolutely,” Higuruma said, “you see, these types of standardized tests are terrible. Take a look on question number 15, the one about excess in self-defense.”

“Oh, I remember that one! The question in which guy 1 killed guy 2 through choking because guy 2 tried to kill him first with a sharp object but dropped it accidentally, right?”

“That one.”

“I was unsure, because even though he ended up killing guy 2, to be a target of an attempted murder must be horribly stressful. I mean, with all the adrenaline and everything, sometimes the body just reacts by itself, and the person is not even thinking.”

“Exactly!” Higuruma responded, clearly getting excited by this little exercise, “but the ‘right’ answer was that it was an excess in self-defense, because given the method — choking —, he could’ve ’stopped at any time’. Could he, though? Shouldn’t that be up for debate instead of…” The Professor took the list of answers and shook it in his hand, “this?”

He looks so adorable when talking passionately like th- stop. 

You shook your head before continuing.

“Yes, I agree. However, there’s not much we can do other than learn how to take these exams in order to get to where we want to, right?”

Your voice sounded more disheartened than you thought it would, and your self-disappointment dripped from it in a saddened cadence. You looked like a cornered animal who had just accepted its fate. Higuruma noticed it, and looked the other way to take a moment before speaking again, mindlessly tugging around his already loosened tie. It seemed like it could fall from his neck anytime soon.

Jesus Christ Almighty, can you stop fidgeting with the thing already? You brushed your face in quiet discomfort, and he barely noticed it, too immersed into whatever he had simmering in his mind.

“The main thing is… I just hope you and the other students don’t think less of yourselves because of this short assessment test,” he stated, “college shouldn’t kill the hearts of people who have dreams just because the way it works is not suited for everybody from the get go.”

What he said touched some deeper part of you, one you weren’t usually much in contact with. You stood there silently letting his words sink in, and curiously, they did have some tranquilizing effect of sorts. It must’ve been a while, because Higuruma looked at you with confused eyes when you finally snapped out of it.

“Is everything okay, San-…” he coughed, “I mean… are you alright?”

Pulling yourself together, you drew in a breath before you replied. Once more, you slotted your hands through your hair and his eyes involuntarily peeped over your pseudo ahoge in your bangs before landing on your face again.

“Yes. It’s just what you said about dreams,” you began, “I was worried that this test would nuke my future dream of becoming a criminal defense lawyer, but… I doesn’t quite feel like it now, somehow? It feels like not all is lost, it’s just an exam.”

Higuruma listened to you attentively before sparing you a modest smile.

“I suppose so. We are allowed to falter and make mistakes, especially here, in a classroom. You’re here to learn, after all.”

You nodded.

“Thank you, Professor. Truly. Your words have really helped me,” you stated, not realizing the smile  all over your face in a beam while you bowed towards him, “and for whatever it’s worth, your classes inspire me even more to chase my dreams. You are an amazing teacher.”

Higuruma seemed surprised and retributed the gesture, bowing his head towards you, his own cheeks pooling a soft pink.

“It’s my honor and privilege to teach you all, and I hope you get to realize your dreams in the future.”

You sighed content, and you both remained silent for a short while. Considering the conversation was already done, you bid him a “bye” and turned on your heels to leave the classroom, but his voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hm, may I ask something?” Higuruma inquired.

“Of course, Professor. What is it?”

“You kept looking at something on me, is my shirt dirty or something like that?” he asked, trying to look down and assess his state.

Your ears went deaf for a second with the blood rush from your thumping heart at the realization he had, indeed, noticed your stupid obsession. And for a split second, you wondered if you should explain it. The dream flashed through your mind, and better not obviously was the answer you arrived at.

“Ah, uh… your tie, it’s crooked, and- yeah, it’s just crooked. That’s it. I tend to notice these things,” you blurted out, letting each syllable tumble over the other carelessly. You did your best to pretend you were scratching your nose, just so you could hide the small flush you felt over your face.

Whatta’ lousy liar am I. 

“Oh.” Higuruma gently glided his fingers over his tie, and tightened it slightly around his neck, “thank you for letting me know, but I figure that’s okay. My crooked tie has not prevented me from teaching today, or my students from learning, I presume,” he jested, and you acquiesced trying to hold down a chuckle unrelated to his lukewarm joke.

“Well, thank you for the talk, Professor. Have a good day!” you said, finally making your way out the classroom.

The door closed behind you, and instead of getting up immediately, Higuruma found himself still caught up in the conversation you both just had, being brought back to his old memories, his own old dreams and how he had once lived them in the past before everything went wrong. It felt like eons ago.

 The Professor pulled his phone from his pocket and opened up his chat Nanami, thinking back on their earlier conversation.

“Dreams, huh?” a lonely Higuruma mused before typing, failing to realize he had been softly smiling to himself for the past minute.

HH: Kento, if you’re really going forward with this idea, you should put up a notice for an intern opening

NK: Already did, for two positions actually.

NK: Did you think about what we discussed earlier?

Sighing to himself, Higuruma finally got up, stretching his legs and arms as if he had been sunk in it for millennia. He picked his briefcase up in one hand, and pulled his coat with the other. As he did so, your red scarf fell on his desk beside his shawl, and Higuruma realized how human memory, more often than not, was indeed pretty fallible.

“Argh, dammit.”

PT. II WILL GET POSTED ON DEC 26TH

I had completely forgotten to feature this amazing fanart of chapter 1 (that I’ve already screeched about like a banshee on more than one occasion) when I posted chapter 2. Traffi, as always, this is STUNNING, I JUS- Thank you 🥹

all credits for this amazing art go to @traffi -

Tag list (updated):

@arusearu @yammy-yammy-yama @redlikerozez @killerplink

@alwaysfreakingout @murderofravens @cmdrfupa @higurumapet @cindyneko-strider 

@ohhheymessa @bigbaddulce @actuallysaiyan @s-witch-bitch @yeonjunarchives

@soft--cherry @quinnyundertow @traffi @shibataimu

[revasserium]

A request for Zayne with the prompt, "a note on public health" 🙏🫶☺️

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

32. a note on public health

zayne; 1,519 words; fluff, teeth-rotting fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", zayne!branded humor, vague innuendos, established relationship

summary: a couple of public service announcements.

a/n: zayne cares much about your health ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

001. sleep

For optimal health, one should get eight to ten hours of sleep per night.

You try to stifle a yawn as Zayne glances over the day’s news, projected onto the smooth white tabletop. He looks up, eyes narrowing as you freeze halfway through, attempting to mask the motion with a soft cough.

You reach for your half-finished coffee but Zayne tugs it away with a soft sigh.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?”

You purse your lips, averting your eyes as you reach for a slice of toast, tugging off a corner and stuffing it in your mouth.

“Would’ve slept better if someone hadn’t kept me up past my bedtime.”

This time, it’s Zayne who looks away, coughing as he sips at his own coffee.

“I made sure we finished at a reasonable hour.”

You jerk upright, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, a hot flush working its way into your cheeks. You wonder how he can keep such a straight face, how he looks so fundamentally unbothered. But then, he lets out a light chuckle.

“But you’re right — they say it’s not good to have strenuous exercise right before bed. I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Zayne!” you toss a crumpled bit of napkin at him, your heartbeat pounding at the back of your throat.

Zayne’s eyebrow flicks upward as he picks up the piece of tissue and gently lobs it into the trash can next to the kitchen counter before going back to this breakfast, the faintest hint of a smile shadowing his lips.

002. water

Adults over 19 should drink 1.5 to 2 liters of water a day for optimal health.

“Hello? What is it?”

“Hi! Uhm… where are you? I don’t — I don’t see you.”

“I’m… at home.”

“What? But… the app says you’ve arrived…”

Zayne sighs, “Did you dial the wrong number? This is Zayne.”

“…Oh! Oops.”

“Where are you? Have you been drinking?”

You hiccup, and he can almost see you shaking your head the way you do when you want to deny something you’d obviously been doing. He pushes up from the sofa, grabbing his coat.

“Not… not a lot — Tara just wanted to celebrate since —“ you hiccup again, “since it’s her first promotion, y’know?”

Zayne hums, “Mhm. Where are you?”

“No, no! It’s okay! I called a cab —“

“Cancel it. I’ll come get you.”

“But…”

“Cancel it. And send me your location.”

Thirteen minutes later, you’re climbing into the passenger seat of Zayne’s car with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry…”

“Don’t be. Here.”

You blink down at the bottle of water Zayne is pressing into your lap.

“Oh… thanks, but I had a lot of water at the bar!” You turn to flash him a bright, proud smile, “See? I do listen to you!”

Zayne laughs as he pulls into a stop light, glancing over at you, the bottle of water cradled between your hands.

“Yes, and I suppose you’re very proud of yourself this time?” there’s a teasing lilt to his voice that lets you know he’s not mad. Still, you scowl.

“Shouldn’t you be proud that your patient is getting better at taking care of herself?”

Zayne sighs, reaching over the tug the bottle from your hands before unscrewing the cap and handing it back to you.

“Drink.”

You look like you’re about to argue for a split second before you catch the sharp look in his eye and bring the bottle up to your lips for a long drink. Zayne allows himself a satisfied smile as he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze.

“Good. Good girl.”

003. sun

To maintain healthy blood levels, aim to get 10 - 30 minutes of midday sun, several days a week.

“It’s been raining for forever…”

Zayne looks up from the patient chart propped up in his lap.

You’re sprawled across the sofa on the other side of the room, staring at the bleary, rain-streaked windows with a dull, world-weary expression. Zayne’s eyes flick toward the window for a second before sliding up to the large clock above his door.

It’s three minutes till the end of the day, and he’d agreed you could wait for him in his office while he finished up.

“It has.” He drops his eyes back down to the chart in his hands. The patient is doing well — all things considered. He should keep them for another night of study before signing off to let him go home. Zayne punches in the quick note in for his nurses before setting the chart down.

“Weather forecast says it’s gonna rain all through the weekend too.”

“Hm.” Zayne gets up, rolling his shoulders loose of the knots that had gathered there before rounding his desk, “Come on then.”

“Oh! Are you done? Are we… going to get dinner?” You jump up from the sofa, seemingly revived, a smile on your face. Zayne regards you for a moment before turning.

“Not yet.”

“Not… yet?” you trail after him as he shrugs on his coat and locks his office door.

He can feel your curiosity bubbling for the entire walk to his car through the vast parking garage. He allows himself a smile as you slide in and look at him expectantly. For a second, he toys with the idea of not telling you, of seeing just how long you can hold out before you start to pester him.

“You’ll see,” he says, just as you open your mouth to ask.

“So… it’s a surprise?” you ask.

He shrugs, pulling out of the parking space and cresting through the dimly lit parking structure till he turns onto the bustling city street.

“I suppose it will be.”

“Did you… plan this?” he can hear the hopefulness in your voice, the giddiness sparkling there like soda fizz.

“No, but did you say I should try to be more spontaneous sometimes?”

“Sure but…” he can hear you pouting, “well, fine, if you really don’t want to tell me.”

He keeps quiet just to savor in the silence, in the knowledge that you are here with him, and so, so eager to know what he has planned for you. He wonders if it’s cruel to enjoy this, to love the way you’re so reactive, to love… everything about you.

You blink as he pulls into a darkened road, wide as it is, to the clearly gated Botanical Gardens. Your confusion only grows as the night guard there gives him a cheery wave before punching a button and the giant gates hiss open to allow you both entry.

“Thanks,” Zayne says, lifting a hand as the night guard waves them through with a bright smile.

He casts you a single glance before chuckling, “His daughter was a patient of mine a while back — she had a genetic cardiac condition that — well,” Zayne breaks off as he parks the car in the first space and opens the door.

“Regardless, she needed surgery. It was risky but… we managed to save her.”

He leads you down the winding path to one of the smaller greenhouses, lit up so brightly from the inside that you have to squint your eyes as he punches in an access code and lets you both through the door.

The wall of heat that greets you both nearly knocks you off your feet but a moment later, you smile as the warmth seeps into your skin, and you turn your face up towards the high ceilings, speckled with what you’re certain are tiny little sunlamps, beaming down at the arid landscape below.

“Are these… cacti?” you wonder aloud, shuffling over to a large, bulbous plant with long thin spikes.

“Yes, these are the desert plants. They need prolonged exposure to sunlight to live.”

“Oh…” you bend down to read the short description of the cacti before moving onto the next one, and then the next one. Zayne trails behind you, watching with a soft smile and softer eyes as you point out the tiny little yellow flowers budding on one, and the strange shapes of another.

“Not that this isn’t fun and all but…” you turn to him as you finally return to the front of the greenhouse, having seen all the different varieties of desert plants in this particular area, “why’d you bring me here?”

Zayne holds open the door for you.

“You looked like you were missing the sun.”

Even beneath the barely there lighting of the parking lot, Zayne sees your blush darkening your cheeks.

“I — I guess I was,” you say as you slip once more into the passenger seat of his car, looking over at him, “but… weren’t you missing it too?”

Zayne’s grin skews as he tugs on his seatbelt, but he schools his expression back into its usual mask of stoicism as he answers, “No. I’ve already got you.”

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

[gotta-winwin]

2019 debut year <> what is his problem?

word count: 2.1k TW: a bucket of snark, cold wonwoo, mentions of bullying, swearing italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin

౨ৎ ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ─── ─── ──౨ৎ

"Mingyu!" Cyana yelled from across the living room, her leg propped up as she sat icing her swollen ankle.

The boy in question slid into view, stumbling a little for balance as he grappled with the slippery wooden floors. "Yes, princess?"

Cyana made a little face at the nickname. "Can you charge my phone for me please? I left it in the kitchen and I can't stand up." She pouted at the mention of her rolled ankle. "And I thought I told you not to call me that."

Mingyu let out a deep sigh. "It's fitting though, don't you think? You are seventeen's princess." He poked her ankle gently. "Look at me, waiting on you hand and foot."

She sent him a glare. "You're the reason I'm like this." She let her upper half crumple dramatically onto the couch.

Mingyu had came rushing into practice this afternoon, colliding into an unaware Cyana, who had just been trying to leave the room for water. Everyone had chalked it up to the fact that Mingyu only ever looked parallel to his height, and could not see Cyana below him.

"I've already apologized." He whined, leaving to grab her phone. "You're even sleeping over so I can take care of you. Seungcheol said it was my punishment. You know only special people can ever enter the Minwon residence."

She scoffed. She noticed she was unnaturally riled up today, annoyed by the pain and inconvenience of not being able to walk. "Special, my ass."

"Hey." Mingyu stared at her from the doorway, having been on his way to grab a charger for her phone. He sent her a frown. "I understood that."

Cyana stuck out her tongue in retaliation, smiling to herself when it got a loud laugh from Mingyu. She watched him walk out of view, probably to his room to grab his charger.

They really had started to feel a little like family, Cyana realized as she sat there, with nothing to do but to ponder. She wouldn't have ever expected to be enjoying small moments like this, despite her ankle still throbbing. She also wouldn't have ever thought this job would be anymore than purely working. She never imagined she'd make friends, let alone call 13 boys her family. Well, 11 boys, she correctly ruefully. Woozi had been refusing to speak to her since the Hug BPM incident, although Cyana noticed he had changed it to be 138. Wonwoo was another one who seemed to be doing everything under the sun to avoid her, despite them literally being under the same roof right now. He had helped Mingyu move her from the car to their couch, gave her a look over and retreated to his room.

She let out a huff. She'd been here for nearly two months now, and comeback season would begin in less than two weeks. Wonwoo or Woozi (preferably both) would have to get their shit together sooner or later, before fans began to notice and shit started getting stirred.

Mingyu knocked twice on Wonwoo's door before entering. The last time he had walked in unannounced, a controller had been sent flying his way.

"Wonwoo hyung~" He called, reaching over to move Wonwoo's headset slightly off his ear. "Can I borrow your charger?"

Wonwoo frowned, blinking at Mingyu, his eyes adjusting from the bright screen back to reality. "Why?" Mingyu's phone wasn't adaptable to his charger head.

Mingyu waved the lilac phone in his hand. "Cyana's phone."

"She's got you charging her phone for her now?" Wonwoo muttered, getting up to grab it from the floor next to his bed. "Puppy."

"Hey!" Mingyu protested indignantly. "Her ankle's injured. I'm just helping. Like you should be doing."

Wonwoo frowned. "Why would I?"

"She's family."

Wonwoo scoffed. "She's not family. Family is the people who were there with us in that fucking lime green room."

Mingyu cut his eyes at the older boy, disappointed. "Cyana's a good person. You'd know if you'd just give her a chance."

"She's a ticking time bomb, Gyu. You need to realize that." Wonwoo's shoulders sagged as he sighed, handing over his charger. "She's going to blow up our comeback either way."

"You've been talking too much with Woozi hyung." Mingyu decided. "One skeptic's enough in this group."

"She's got 11 cheerleaders and knights-in-waiting already." Wonwoo quickly countered, sitting back down and putting his headphones back on, clicking open a new game. "I just don't think we'd get along."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "She's literally you, Wonwoo. Down the a T." He groaned when the older boy gave no reaction, the headphones blocking his words. "Aish-" He slapped the back of Wonwoo's head gently. "Idiot."

Returning back to the living room, he plugged the charger in the outlet next to Cyana and handed her her phone. "You better thank Wonwoo later, it's his charger."

Cyana groaned. "Why~ Couldn't you have just grabbed yours?"

"My charger doesn't fit your phone, nana." Mingyu frowned. "Did something happen between you and Wonwoo hyung or what?"

"What do you mean?"

Mingyu took a seat next to her, hands reaching over to bring her injured foot into his lap, massaging her ankle. "Just mean that there has to be a reason you hate each other, that's all."

"I don't hate him, Gyu." Cyana sighed. "I just don't like being where I'm clearly not wanted."

"I'll talk to him."

Cyana shook her head. "No, no. Don't make it worse. It's okay, Gyu." She patted his arm. "Wonwoo not liking me isn't going to destroy me. As long as he hides it well during recordings, we're fine."

"He's my best friend though~" Mingyu whined. "I want my two best friends to get along well."

Cyana let out a shaky laugh, hit by a sudden jolt of pain when Mingyu pressed on a particular spot. "Sadly we don't always get what we want." She squeezed his shoulder. "Really, though. It's okay. I still have more friends than I ever had before."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "I didn't really have friends growing up, is all. I was busy."

Mingyu looked at her sadly. "That's not good. Childhood friends are the best. You didn't make any at school?"

Cyana thought for a little bit, reaching over to move Mingyu's fingers to a certain spot where she felt like the pain was the most. "I had some friends in Vancouver, but once we moved to LA, everyone kind of already had friends. So it was awkward to join them."

"Oh." Mingyu couldn't wrap his head around the idea that Cyana didn't have friends in LA. She was so comforting and funny and pretty and good.

"They were all mean anyways." Cyana shrugged off the heaviness that the memories had brought her. "Not very friend-material."

Mingyu nodded. "I guess." He was still sad though, imagining lonely baby Cyana in the middle of a busy and large LA.

Sensing his sadness for her, Cyana offered him a bright smile. "I have you now. And Shua. And Kyeomie, and Boo, and Chan, and Vernon." She began counting them with her fingers, earning a smile from Mingyu. "And Hannie, and Hoshi, and Jun, and Haohao, and Seungcheol." She paused. "Well, kind of Seungcheol. I don't know if we're there yet." Looking up at Mingyu, she smiled. "But still! That's a lot of friends."

"I'm glad." Mingyu could only say, although his eyes said a whole lot more. I'm glad you have us. I'm glad you see us as your friends. I'm glad you're our friend. My friend. Cyana's grateful smile told him she understood.

The next morning, Cyana woke up in a stranger's bed. She sat up, frowning when she didn't recognize the bedroom she was in. Mingyu's bedroom did not have pretty LED lights coming from the ceiling, and last time she checked, he didn't own a gaming station.

"Get up."

Her eyes widened at the sound of Wonwoo's voice. She turned her head to look at him, leaning on the doorframe of the connected bathroom.

"What?" She mumbled, still deciding whether or not it was all a dream. It had to be, for on what planet would she wake up in Wonwoo's bed?

"I said get up." Wonwoo sighed, pushing himself off the doorframe to grab his coat from the foot of the bed. Sensing her confusion, he bit back a tiny smile. "You and Mingyu both fell asleep on the couch last night. I brought Mingyu back to his bed but found you couldn't fit comfortably next to him so I brought you here." He threw his coat on, grabbing his keys and phone as well. "I slept outside on the couch, don't worry."

Cyana's face flushed. It didn't go past her that this was the most words Wonwoo had ever spoken to her. "Sorry." She moved to get up. A large hand stopped her, grabbing her shoulder.

"Sorry." Wonwoo mumbled, releasing her. "Your ankle."

"Oh." Her face flushed again. "I think it should be fine. Mingyu's pretty good at physical therapy."

Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, Cyana stood up, gingerly placing weight on her bad ankle. Wonwoo stood a couple steps away from her, ready if something were to go wrong.

"It's fine." Cyana gave him a tentative smile. "Thanks. You could've just left me on the couch." She had definitely expected him to.

"Maybe I should've." Wonwoo muttered. "Hip Hop unit's got practice early today. Breakfast's on the table. Don't call. Don't burn the house down. And don't touch my things." He left the room without another word. Cyana heard Mingyu's voice from the distance and could hear the front door shutting behind them.

She blinked, frozen. She didn't know whether to cry or celebrate that Wonwoo had finally acknowledged her presence. His actions and words confused her greatly. It was i put you in my bed and slept outside so you can sleep well and then shout loudly to wake you up followed by a got you breakfast ending with a i don't trust you in my house.

She sighed, shaking her head. Boys.

Although her stomach grumbled, she opted to skip breakfast. Her stylists had complained that she wasn't fitting the skirt they'd made for their stage performances, despite it being not her size at all. She supposed it meant she still had a long way to go before she would look good onstage next to the members.

Looking around the room, she was able to properly see Wonwoo's place for the first time. It was clean, she expected nothing less from him. Everything about him screamed clean.

The computer hummed with life despite it being off and it was surrounded by photographs and equipment. She smiled when she spotted a photograph of what looked to be young seventeen, huddled together in the midst of their trainee years. There was also a few photos of a dog, who she assumed was Wonwoo's back home. There were books as well, overfilling the shelves that lined the far wall. That was something Cyana could relate to, although these titles were all in Korean instead of English. She found that she missed having books to read. It was hard to find anything good in Korea that she could understand.

She could've spent eternity in Wonwoo's room just looking at things, trying to decipher a person she desperately wanted to know. Her phone rang however, startling her.

"Hello?" It was their manager.

"Oh. Manager oppa. What's going on?" Cyana frowned. The manager rarely called them, schedules and changes were usually relayed through text.

"We have a couple company higher-ups who want to see your improvement before the comeback, Soyeon-ssi. I'm sorry to spring it on you now, but they'll be at Pledis soon. Could you come over quickly?"

Her blood rang cold. "Oh, uh- yes. I'm at Mingyu's right now. I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Great. No need to panic, Soyeon. They just want to know if you're ready."

That was the thing though. Cyana didn't think she was ready. Sure, she'd been practicing with the others, learning techniques she hadn't learnt in LA, but she still wasn't as polished as the others. She couldn't quite grasp the concept of levels and angles, although she tried her hardest knowing it was essential to Seventeen's famed synchronization.

Rushing out of Wonwoo's room, she threw on the first hoodie she found in Mingyu's room before rushing to leave, locking the door behind her. Waving down a taxi, she sent prayers to all the gods she did not believe in that she'd pass whatever test they were giving her. She wanted to debut. She needed to. She wasn't about to let herself be sent back to LA. Not when she had family here.

author's note: ahhh! thank you so much for reading! things are about to get intense (,,>﹏<,,)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

crimson red part two

words: 1.3k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, NON/DUBCON, R*PE, M*RDER, stalker!rafe, branding, scaring, p in v sex, unprotected sex, knife kink, descriptions of blood

part one / part two / part three

you can practically feel rafes eyes on you. all day every day, no matter where you go, you know he’s not far. you try to go on with your normal routine, chest bandaged up underneath your shirt as you cringe, tugging at the scars as you attempt to reach the top shelf at the grocery store.

“here, i got it for you.” a tall man reaches up for you, grabbing the box of cereal and placing it in your hand.

“thanks so much!” you sigh with relief. you certainly don’t want to stretch your scars and cause them to start bleeding again.

“no problem.” he smiles at you. “i’m liam, what’s your name?” “oh, uh, y/n.” you also smile but he must get the vibe that you’re not really interested, giving you a nod before continuing down the aisle. liams handsome, but you won’t drag anyone into your life, not when rafe is knocking at your door every night. he doesn’t need to break in anymore, you gladly open it for him.

you finish your grocery shopping, wishing you would have gotten a chance to go earlier as you shiver, the cold air hitting your skin as you step out, still pushing your cart now filled with bags.

the setting sun guides you towards your car, making you realize that theres no streetlights as you squint to load your car, filling the trunk when you hear someone clearing their throat. you turn, expecting rafe.

“oh, hi.” you realize through the growing darkness that it’s liam.

“hello again.” his voice is deep, but nothing like the easy purr if rafes. “can i help you load your groceries?” you look to your cart, only a couple bags left.

“i’m almost done, but thank you.” you nod, turning back to your car, but you don’t hear his footsteps moving away on the pavement, instead there’s a scuff of a step forward. you keep your attention on your trunk, praying that he will get the hint and walk away. you hear a strangled gasp that has your eyes widening, turning quickly to see liams body crumple to the ground.

“oh my god, rafe!” you scream. rafe moves quickly towards you, pressing his palm against your mouth as your eyes widen.

“i told you to stay away from men. the only reason i don’t slit your throat too is because i heard you telling him to leave.” rafe moves his hand slowly, your chest still heaving up and down but now under more control.

you look from his blue eyes to liam, his eyes now completely lifeless and glazed over, red spilling from the cut on his throat.

“now let me help you.” rafe loads the rest of your groceries while you stand frozen. you let him move you, carefully take your hand and guide you to your passenger seat. realization doesn’t set in until rafe drivers you home, taking all your groceries in for you while you’re sat stunned in the car.

“come on inside.” rafe coos softly, his voice in contrast to the sharp blade inside the leather sheath hanging from his belt.

“oh my god.” your words whisper out before you scream the next ones. “you’re a murderer! you killed that guy!”

rafes hand is back over your mouth as you begin to struggle, trying to get away. you knew rafe was capable of terrible things, but you never expected for his obsession with you to go this far.

“shut up.” rafe grunts, letting out a shout when you bite at his palm, sinking your teeth in and pulling back, trying to hurt him even a little bit as much as he hurt you.

you manage to squirm away for only a minute before rafe is dragging you inside. “you made a serious fucking mistake!” rafe yells, tossing you over your shoulder as you resign to your fate, slumping forward. “going to show you what happens when you are a fucking brat.”

he throws you onto your bed, your body bouncing as he tugs your shirt off, not caring about the tears streaming down your cheeks. he rips your shirt in two pieces like it’s paper, so effortlessly it has your eyes widening, a reminder of his physicality, his pure strength.

“r-rafe.” you plead out, but he ignores your whimper of his name, grabbing your wrist and using your own shirt to tie it to the headboard. he rips your sports bra off next, again tearing it, causing your skin to burn from the sudden movement of the fabric. your other wrist is tied up next, so tight it makes you cry out.

“rafe, please, i’m sorry.” you lean forward, trying to convince him to stop. “i was just scared.” “you should be scared of me. i could fucking kill you and you act like such a brat. you should have waited for me to help you in the grocery store.” it’s ridiculous. all liam did was help you get something off the shelf, and rafe fucking murdered him for it.

“you’re right.” you nod. “just be gentle, please.” you plead, your cunt bruised and red from last night when rafe had you, shoved your face into your own mattress to soak up your tears as he tore your pussy apart.

“ill do whatever i want.” rafe peals the bandage back from your breast, tapping the scar in a shape of his first initial. “should i remind you that you're mine?”

you just whimper. you have nothing left to say, no dignity still inside as rafe tugs your pants off before undressing himself, placing his sheathed knife on your bedside table like always. a reminder, now a reminder stained with an innocent man's blood.

“my pretty little pussy.” rafe coos, fingers swiping through your folds. “she's so pretty i love her so much.” he bends down to kiss your clit before baring his teeth and biting down, making you cry out, back arching as you strain against the wrist restraints.

“did that hurt or did you like it?” rafe questions, kissing your clit again like he didn't just gnaw on it. “or both?”

you know he expects an answer, the way he's looking up at you impatiently. “both.” you hate admitting how much you like the effect rafe has on your body, but with his face in your cunt you know the rush of wetness would give it away anyways.

“good girl.” he hums. rafe picks your hips up, so used to manipulating your body as he shoves his hips forward, sinking his cock inside of you in one smooth motion.

“fuck, still so tight.” rafe grunts out, immediately setting a fast pace, cock stretching you out without remorse. the pain just amplifies your pleasure as you moan.

rafe is thankful that you have no close by neighbors with how loud the both of your are, his thrusts hard and punishing, one hand moving to pinch and pull at your clit, deciding not to be gentle as part of your punishment.

“p-please untie me rafe.” you whimper out.

“what, so you can just bite and hurt me again?” he shakes his head. “i don't think so.”

rafe groans as your cunt clenches around him, your hands gripping onto your ruined shirt, fingers starting to go numb from lack of blood flow.

“maybe i should just leave you tied up. maybe get some handcuffs and chains that way no man will ever flirt with you again.” rafes eyes stay on the scar on your chest. “maybe i should finish carving my name on you.”

“n-no. im yours, rafe. i know that.” you do. you thoroughly belong to rafe. even if he forgot about you, let you go free, stopped watching your every movement, you'll never be truly free. he's utterly wrecked you for anyone else to the point where you crave him.

with every thrust of his cock and tug of his fingers, you feel yourself breaking more. 

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[wzrd-wheezes]

Forget Me Not - Remus Lupin x Reader

AN - this amazing idea was thought of by the lovely @thepunisherfrankcastle who posted this the other day. I couldn't not write it. Thank you for letting me write your beautiful idea.

Warnings: contains mentions of blood and an accident (nothing graphic literally a sentence) memory loss but other than that some angst and a bit off fluff.

3.8k words

It absolutely ruined him when the accident happened. The way her body fell limp in the rubble, blood smeared across her face. For a split second, everyone thought she was dead, unable to bring her back round. Remus knelt by her, brushing the dust off of her face, trying to mop up the blood with the hem of his t-shirt. 

She was in the hospital for weeks, barely allowed to have visitors. The closest Remus got to her was through the cloudy glass that looked into her room from the corridor. He spent hours with his forehead resting against the glass, trying to get a glimpse of her to see if she was okay. The doctors seemed to keep pulling the curtains around her for privacy, promising to update him if anything happened.  

He spent days waiting outside of her room, his back stiff from sitting on the hard plastic chairs, staring at the worn linoleum floor. The bright, fluorescent lights gave him a headache. He couldn’t even bring himself to read the book that he had tucked away in the back pocket of his jeans, his mind was a mess of thoughts and he found it hard to focus. Every few hours, the lady with the tea trolley would come rattling down the corridor and she would give him a sympathetic smile as she handed him his drink.  

James and Sirius came to visit, they sat with him for hours, trying to convince to go home.  

“C’mon, mate. You need to get some proper food down you at least.” James reasoned, looking at the crumpled paper coffee cups and the empty cigarette packets that were laying at Remus’s feet.  

“What if she wakes up and I’m not here?” he answered, staring into the grey-ish cup of tea he was drinking. 

“Then they’ll call you and you can come straight back.” Sirius rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, “You’ll feel better after a decent sleep. Can’t imagine you’ve had much here.” 

Remus finally looked up, weak smile forming on his lips. He nodded – Sirius was right. He had barely slept since he’d been here. The uncomfortable surroundings and constant buzzing and beeping from the machines made it near impossible. He was exhausted. There were dark smudges under his eyes that were getting worse every day, a shadow of stubble across his jaw and his hair was a mess from him anxiously running his hands through it. 

When he stood up, it felt like every bone in his body cracked, clicking back into place. Since he got here, he had barely moved, only getting up to go to the bathroom or to get a cheap coffee from the machine. He groaned, rubbing his hip to ease the pain.  James and Sirius led him back to the car, Sirius’s hand planted firmly on his back, guiding him.  

Remus could barely get his key in the door, his hands were shaking so badly, a combination of anxiety and the lack of food and sleep. His friends had offered to come in with him, to sit with him for a while. James had even offered to go and collect some of his mum’s cooking for him to eat. Remus politely declined, not feeling up to the company. Reluctantly, his friends retreated leaving Remus alone.  

He wandered around the flat for a while, rummaging in the cupboards for something to eat, slotted two slices of bread in the toaster and flicked the kettle on. Y/N would go mad when she found out he wasn’t looking after himself properly.  

The living room felt eerily empty without his girlfriend. The ticking of the clock was driving him insane, and he switched the radio on, trying to drown it out. Eating felt near enough impossible, his mouth was dry and the bread felt like he was chewing on cardboard. His fingers reached out for his mug, taking a swig of his tea trying to dislodge it from his throat. He rubbed his hand over his face. God, he was tired. The thought of sleeping in their bed alone was unbearable, the two of them hadn’t spent a night alone since they moved in together.  

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he must have because he woke up abruptly to the sound of the landline ringing. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt disorientated. It was nighttime now, the living room was bathed in gloomy moonlight and he nearly tripped over as he rushed to the phone.  

“Hello?” His voice came out strained.  

“Hello. Can I speak to a Mr Lupin, please?” the voice asked.  

“Speaking.”  

“Ah, hello Mr Lupin. We’re just calling to let you know that Y/N has woken up. She’s still a little groggy but if you wanted to come over in the morning to see her then you can.”  

Remus felt like he could cry. It took all of his restraint to not just drive straight to the hospital now, but he knew he needed to let her rest if she had just come round. Instead, he went for a shower, finding the hot water soothing against his tired body. He ran his hands through his hair, lathering up the shampoo. For the first time since the accident, he felt like he could breathe properly again.  

The bathroom was filled with steam by the time he got out. He could barely see his reflection in the mirror as the condensation dripped down it. He winced as he saw his himself, his fingers tracing the bags under his eyes. He rummaged in the cabinet for his razor, deciding to clean himself up a little before the morning.  

That night, he decided to sleep on the sofa again, he told himself that it was just in case the hospital rang again, so he could hear the phone. Deep down, he knew that it was because he didn’t want to sleep in their bed without Y/N.  

A decent nights sleep was much needed, Remus only awoke when the morning sunlight streamed into the living room. He looked around groggily, his eyes squinting in the bright light. He wasn’t used to waking up in his own flat, the last few times that he dozed off, when he woke up it was to the fluorescent hospital lights and the doctors walking down the corridor, doing their morning rounds. 

He got dressed quickly, and gave himself a once over in the mirror before he left, running a hand through his hair, trying to tame the unruly curls.  

When he arrived at the hospital, there was a crowd of doctors and nurses that were outside of Y/N’s room. He waited anxiously for them to stop talking, nibbling on the skin of his bottom lip. 

“Mr Lupin?” one of the doctors turned around, “We’re glad you’re here-” 

“Can I go in? I need to see her.”  

“Of course. She’s having a few issues with her memory at the moment. She can’t seem to remember much from the accident but seeing a familiar face might help jog her memory.” The doctor informed him.  

Y/N looked better than he thought she would when he entered. She was propped up against some pillows, her face was patched up a bit and she had multiple wires and drips attached to her that were connected to different machines. She cocked her head when Remus walked in.  

“God, I’m so happy to see you. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Remus rushed over to her, planting a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She stayed silent for a moment, her brows knitting together.  

“I’m really sorry. Do I know you?” she pulled away from him. 

Remus stood stunned for a few seconds, at a complete loss for words. He felt like time had stood still. He hadn’t noticed that the doctor was stood in the doorway, clipboard in hand. Remus spun around when he spoke.  

“That’s normal,” the doctor began, “There tends to be memory loss in the days after someone wakes up from an accident so severe. Sometimes it takes a while for them to remember everything.” 

“What do you mean ‘a while’.” Remus stressed, “I thought you said that she couldn’t remember the accident? Not that she couldn’t remember me!”  

“She has an incredibly severe concussion. The extent of her damage is worse than we originally thought. She’s suffered a significant amount of brain trauma, which has most likely caused her to lose her memory. We’re hoping that it won’t be permanent, and her brain heals itself. But it could take days, weeks or even months.” The doctor explained carefully. 

Every trace of colour drained from his face and he felt his stomach sink. His breath caught in his throat, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The doctor left the room, saying something about giving Remus time to process – he wasn’t really listening.  

Remus moved to sit by her bed, reaching to take Y/N’s hand in his but withdrawing his fingers almost immediately. Y/N just sat silently, staring at Remus he could near enough see the cogs in her brain turning, trying to work out who he was. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/N repeated, “I feel like I’m supposed to know who you are but I just can’t remember.” She bit down on her lip. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Remus said, trying to remain calm. He was trying to look and sound reassuring, but tears were stinging at his eyes and he was doing his best to hold them back. 

“Something keeps coming to my mind when I look at you. It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” she looked at him earnestly, “You know when you can’t remember something but you know that you know it?” 

“I’m Remus,” he nodded, “I’m your boyfriend.” 

“My... boyfriend?” her eyes widened and she reached a hand up to her mouth, “How long? Have we been together a while?” 

“Since we were at school.” Remus confirmed, smiling sadly.  

Y/N was speechless. It was as if she was going from one emotional state to another. She looked completely lost, struggling to get her head around the idea. She looked at Remus, observing him with a newfound curiosity. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes and she swallowed hard, looking away for a moment. 

“I- I don’t remember anything.” tears were falling now, she was growing increasingly more distressed.  

“I think you should go now, Mr Lupin.” the doctor had appeared at the door again, “We need to let her rest. You can visit again tomorrow.” 

Remus stiffened as he spoke, his eyes narrowing. He didn’t agree, he didn’t want to leave her on her own. He didn’t trust himself to speak, as if the words would open the floodgates and he would lose it completely. So instead, he just reached out and took her hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment before he left. 

When he got home, Remus wandered aimlessly through the flat, his eyes dull and his expression sombre. He made himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the kitchen table. Sirius and James had left him messages on the answering machine, but he couldn’t muster up the effort to call them back.  

Remus just sat there, thinking over his past. Over everything they had been through together. He had known Y/N for as long as he could remember. They had met on their first day of school, forming a group with James and Sirius and had been inseparable ever since. It was when they reached their teens that Remus started seeing her in a different light. He started noticing how she would lean into him to whisper things when they were doing late night study sessions in the library. How her nose would crinkle up when she laughed, how the sun caught in her eyes when they would spend lazy afternoons by the lake.  

He had never had much in terms of affection, his childhood was pretty ropey, and he spent as much time as he could at school. Even when he grew up, girls never seemed to go with him. It was hard, when you were friends with people like James and Sirius, people who flirting and talking to people came so naturally to.  

He had never thought that someone would love him like that. The way that Y/N did. When he finally opened up to her about his feelings and she reciprocated, he felt like the happiest man in the world.  

He remembered all the times he had stayed up late studying, even though his body ached and his mind was growing less coherent by the house. He remembered the times when she would sneak off to go and make them both coffee, kissing his cheek before she left. He remembered being so damn tired the next morning but getting to spend time with her was so worth it.  

When they eventually got their flat together, he was always so excited to spend his days off with her. It was as if he never had to worry about what he would do when she was around. He could just relax. He would do little things, like leave notes in her books and whisper sweet nothings in her ear as they snuggled up on the sofa.  

The years of feeling underserving of being loved seemed so trivial now- so stupid. Y/N loved him. She loved him completely and irrevocably. Yet now, she had no idea who he was. 

His head felt heavy and sore from all the thinking, from not letting himself feel for so long. He slumped forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table, his face buried in his hands. He hated that the accident had happened. That he had to look at her and be a stranger to her. It was like there was a knife in his gut, the blade twisting every time that Y/N said she didn’t remember him. What if she never remembered him? What if this was his one shot at love and it had been ruined? For years, Remus had had a horrible thought in the back of his mind that their relationship was purely circumstantial, that if they had met in any other scenario that she wouldn’t have fallen for him. Now, it seemed like his worst nightmare had come true.  

When he went back to the hospital the next day, he spent the walk to Y/N’s room trying to convince himself that this all was just some crazy dream, that he would walk into her room and that she would recognise him. He was devastated when she didn’t. 

“Are those for me?” she asked when he walked in, nodding towards the bunch of flowers that he was holding. 

“Yeah.” he smiled, feeling somewhat shy, “They’re your favourites.” 

“Well, I’m glad you remembered.” she joked. 

She laughed and he couldn’t help but feel his heart leap just a little. He didn’t even think that this was all new to her, that her personality might have changed. She still had her wicked sense of humour. He chuckled, but the sound felt hollow in his chest. A part of him couldn’t be completely happy, not while she still didn’t know who he was. It was bittersweet to hear her joke, it was as if nothing in the world mattered apart from the fact that she was here right now. 

“The doctor was saying I should go home soon.” she broke the silence after a few moments, “He said something about how being in familiar surroundings might help jog my memory.” 

“I think that’s a good idea.” he smiled softly, “Do you want to come home?” 

“I think so...” her voice trailed off, “I’m just worried. I mean, you say that you're my boyfriend and I believe you but I just still don’t remember anything.”  

“We can take things slowly.” he replied, “We can get to know each other again. You can get to know me...” 

It pained him to say it. His heart raced as he realised what he had just suggested. They would be starting over. He had a horrible worry in the back of his mind. What if he couldn’t make her fall for him again? 

A few days later, Remus drove her home from the hospital. They didn’t feel as uncomfortable around each other now; Remus had been at the hospital pretty much constantly for the past few days. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye as the car pulled up outside of their flat, searching her face for a hint that she remembered where she was. 

He felt his heart plummet when her eyes didn’t flicker. She didn’t seem to recognise anything as they walked into the flat. She looked as if she were a stranger in this place that she called home just a few weeks ago. He led her to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Every few seconds, his eyes would wander back to her face, wanting her to notice him, to remember him. It was like he was playing tug of war in his head, part of him wanted to break down and cry, the other was telling him to stay calm. He knew he had to stay strong for her. 

“If you feel like you need space, let me know.” Remus offered, “I just want to make sure that you’re comfortable, that’s what I care about most.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled, looking down at her hands as she wrung them together in her lap. Her hands were always a sign of her stress and anxiety – he had known that since school. 

“I put together a box a stuff. Just bits and bobs from the last few years. Y’know postcards, letters, photographs, that kind of stuff. I can go and get them if you like?” 

Y/N spent hours curled up on the sofa, sifting through the box that Remus brought her. She pored over the photographs, tracing their faces with the tip of her finger. He felt his heart throb when he saw the spark of happiness light up her eyes. It seemed like she was enjoying looking through the photographs, seeing all the good times they had in the past. He watched her, her smile was infectious, momentarily making him forget about everything that had happened. 

“You wrote me all these letters?” she asked, wafting one in his direction. 

“Yeah. I started doing it when we were at school, y’know over the summer holidays and then I started leaving them around in places for you to find. I’ve done it for years.” 

“You really loved me, huh?” she mused. 

“Love.” Remus corrected her, “I really love you.” 

“Even now?” she cocked her head to look at him, “Even though I can’t remember anything?” 

“Of course. I always will.” he met her gaze, his eyes softening, “It’s such a shame that you can’t remember everything but you get to rediscover who you are and who you were. I’m just happy that I get to be there alongside you for that.” 

“But won’t it just feel like dating a stranger? Starting afresh?” her voice grew quieter and she looked down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.  

“I get the pleasure of getting to know you all over again.”  

Over the next few weeks that they spent back at their flat together, Y/N’s attitude towards Remus shifted. She had started to become more comfortable around him, like she wasn’t seeing him as a stranger anymore. They would spend hours curled up on the sofa together while she asked Remus to tell her stories about their time at school. She would laugh at his jokes, playfully hitting him on the arm as she did so – something that she used to do when they were younger.  

For the first time since the accident, she started flirting with him. It was nice to see her back to the playful, flirty girl that she used to be. She would often tease Remus about their past and then take great delight when his cheeks went pink. Her touches started to linger and she had even started leaning against him when they sat together, her body brushing against his.  

He was starting to be more affectionate with her too, though he was hesitant to initiate it as he didn’t want to move things along too fast and spook her. A sudden rush of excitement would wash over him whenever she showed any signs of falling into their old patterns. He couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off of his face. 

One evening, while they were cooking together in the kitchen, something that they always used to do, he caught her staring at him. Her eyes roamed over his face, taking in every detail like she was trying to commit it to memory.  

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Remus teased.  

“Oh, shut up.” she laughed, turning away from him to stir the pot on the stove. Remus just chuckled, shaking his head and looking back to the dishes that he was drying. They stayed in comfortable silent for a while, occasionally Y/N would sing along to songs on the radio if she remembered them, though she would often get the words muddled up. 

“Hey, Moony, can you just pass me the saltshaker?” she asked, her eyes still focused on the bubbling pan.  

“What did you just call me?” The plate that he was holding nearly slipped from his fingers and he turned around so fast that his neck could have snapped. 

“M-Moony.” she repeated, though this time the word felt unfamiliar in her mouth. It had come so casually before, dripping off her tongue like honey. 

“You haven’t called me that for ages.” he said, his voice thick with disbelief, “I didn’t think you’d remember. How did you even...” his voice trailed off. 

“I don’t know.” she moved to look at him, her eyes wide, “It just slipped out. It suits you though. Moony.” 

Remus could have fallen to his knees. This was the first time that she has remembered something. Something about him. The way she said it so easily, as if nothing had happened at all. It was the first sign of hope in weeks that her memory might start to come back. Even if it didn’t Remus was enjoying getting to know her all over again.  

While Remus lay on the sofa that evening trying to get some sleep, he had taken to sleeping on the sofa until she was more comfortable around him, he couldn’t believe that she was starting to fall for him again. The ever-present voice in the back of his mind had started to quieten. He had been so worried that his one shot at love had slipped from his grasp and it was killing him that there was nothing that he could to do make her remember what once was. He couldn’t believe his luck. The girl of his dreams had starting to like him, again. The first time wasn’t just a fluke like he always thought it had been. She liked him and she chose him again. 

[audzss]

Thin Line ~2~

Summary: After the fateful night of Rafe crawling through Y/n's window, everything went back to normal. Until a week later, when there's a familiar knock. Y/n can't help but wonder what kind of game Rafe is playing.

Thin Line Masterlist

Word Count: 1,412

Warnings: Talks of Domestic Violence

Thin Line

When Y/n had woken up, Rafe was already gone, the only reminiscence of him was a crumpled up blanket on the side of the floor where he slept. The fact that he had just left without even letting her know made her feel a little weird, like it was something that she had to hide.

When she had showed up to her first college class that morning, Rafe seemed completely un-phased by what had happened, like he didn't have a care in the world, his bruised cheek and eye being shown to everyone, but no one dared to ask. In fact, most people probably already knew what happened, Ward wasn't very good at hiding the way he treated his own son.

As she walked past him, he just mumbled the usual, "Bitch.", and she just scoffed, walking past and mumbling her usual "Douche." This whole situation left something inside of her feeling deeply unsettled, almost feeling bad for him. Well, she would have felt bad for him, if he wasn't such a dick.

At Lunch, Y/n's friend sat at the same table as Top, her boyfriend. Which happened to be Rafe's bestfriend. Great, just her day. When he sat down, he immediately targeted her. "Huh, didn't know the circus was in town." Y/n Immediately stood up, ready to walk up to him and beat his ass, and she would have, if it wasn't for her friend who dragged her back into her seat.

Over Lunch, they had only said a few more words too each other. Mostly insults, some arguing over random shit that their friends were bringing up, and it finally felt normal again. Normal if Y/n ignored the nagging feeling of her heart strings tugging every time she looked up and saw the bruises on his face.

-

"He did what!?" Y/n's bestfriend yelled over the phone. She really, really tried not to tell her what Rafe did, but she just couldn't get the whole thing off her mind. Anytime she had a moment to think about anything, her mind would always lead her to a panicked Rafe forcing himself through her window, crying and begging her to let him stay over.

"It's not that big of a deal, we all know how Ward is.. I just feel bad, like maybe I'm being too mean to him." Y/n mumbles, tapping her pen on her desk while she stares at her homework that she has no plans of completing anytime soon. Chelsea scoffs over the phone.

"Y/n, he was being a dick first. You have every right in the world to be a bitch to him."

She groans, letting her head fall into her hands. "I just-", she stops at the sound of someone knocking.. on her window. She looks over to see a tired looking Rafe through the glass, his head is down and one of his hands is scratching at the back of his neck.

There’s got to be a reason he came back to her house, there’s no way his dad took his car keys again. Besides, why would he want to be here in the first place? They don’t like each other, they don’t get along, they can’t be around each other for more than 30 seconds without throwing insults around left and right, so why is he coming to her?

She sighs and looks back at her phone, "I.. I'll call you back Chelsea.." She says with a sigh before hanging up and getting up off of her desk chair, walking towards the window yet again. She slides the glass up quietly, and Rafe finally decides to look up at her.

He looks thoroughly exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes that he looks like he's having trouble keeping open. She just sits there staring at him for a second, giving him a frustrated look. He opens his mouth, then stops himself, Y/n wonders what he was going to say.

"What are you doing here, again." She mumbles, watching him frown and look down, fumbling his hands together in an anxious way. "Can I come in..?" He whispers, and Y/n doesn't know if it's on purpose or if he's too tired to talk any louder.

"Wow, actually asking me this time? How thoughtful of you." She says, rolling her eyes. He furrows his eyebrows, quickly losing his patience. "Can I come in or not?" He says a little louder, his voice sounded like it was barely working.

Y/n sighs and moves out of the way, allowing room for him to pull himself up and into her room. At least he's not soaking wet this time around.

She carefully closes her window, not wanting to make much noise, before looking back at Rafe. "You look tired." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Ya' think?"

Y/n crosses her arms, giving him a pointed look that says 'if you keep acting like this I'm kicking you out.' He presses his lips together and looks around a little, before walking towards her desk and settling in the office chair that she had just been sitting in to do her homework.

"What are you doing?" Y/n asks, annoyed that he's waltzing around like he owns the place, typical Cameron. "I think-" He interrupts himself with a yawn, "I think I'll sleep in the chair, the floor hurt my back."

"No, this is my house, your sleeping on the floor. Besides, I was doing homework." She states, walking over to where he's sitting down, his eyes closed but his face still tense.

"Right, we get it, your better than everyone else miss 'I do my homework every night'." He uses finger quotations for the last part, and Y/n's patience is running thin. "Get. Out. Of. The. Chair." She says, one last time. He squints one eye open to look at her before sighing and standing up, wobbling around a little.

She smiles and seats herself down on her chair, but her little moment was almost immediately ruined by the person who ruins it best. As she turns around to revel in her win, she see's Rafe splayed out on her bed.

She hurriedly stands up. "Have you lost your mind! You are not sleeping in my bed." He just mumbles something incoherent and buries himself deeper into the pillow.

"Rafe!!" She almost yells, wincing at the fact that her dad might have just heard that. He groans and turns over onto his back. "I get it, we hate each other, but I just wanna sleep here.. until your done.. with.." He trails off, already falling asleep.

Y/n almost laughs at that.. Not the falling asleep part, nope, definitely not endearing. "Pfft.. You don't hate me, if you did you wouldn't be here." But before she could coax an answer out of him, he was already asleep. She groans and gives up, allowing him to sleep there, just until she was done with her homework of course.

-

After a two long hours of what felt like an endless amount of numbers and equations, she was finally done with all her homework. Her eyelids felt too heavy as she limped over to her bed, before remembering that a Rafe Cameron occupied it. She looked over his sleeping figure before reaching out and shaking him.

"Rafe.. Wake up.." She mumbled, shaking him a little harder, but to no avail. At this point, she was too tired to deal with this, and it would just have to wait until morning. She pushed his arm and leg over, making enough room for her to lay down without being close to him.

She yawned, reaching out to turn off her lamp.

"I'm scared, Y/n." She immediately stopped in her tracks, that bastard, he was awake the whole time. It took her a good ten seconds before his words even processed in her brain.

"Huh..? Of what..?" She mumbled, sitting up to turn and look at Rafe, who was staring at the ceiling with a lost look in his eyes. "He keeps.. He's getting worst, last time I was here.. because I left the fucking front door open.. I didn’t mean too..”

Y/n's heart drops at his words, and no matter how much she despises Rafe, she wouldn't wish something like this on her worst enemy. "I.. I'm sorry Rafe.." She whispers, truly meaning it.

When he finally looks at her, his eyes are half way closed and glossy, his bottom lip trembling. "I don't.. know what to do." He breaks down, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/n doesn't even think before laying down beside him and putting an arm around his body, stroking up and down his arm in a soothing manner. "It's okay.. You'll figure it out, I promise."

[kaeso4ka]

Optimus loves you. And someone's falling in love with you, too. Something's brewing

Pairing: yandere Optimus Prime x reader

You weren't very popular with the men. Neither was she popular with women. You weren't a femme fatale that people craned their necks at. Nor was she a person with a pleasant energy.

So when Noah came to you and started giving you active - or not so active - attention, the first thing you thought of was Optimus. And his holoform. And some other Cybertronian quirk.

It was just too suspicious. Or are you just being paranoid?

Maybe so. That's why you were too cold and even aggressive: the first bouquets a guy gave you flew at him and into the trash. Sometimes in reverse order.

Noah studied together with you, so not meeting in the corridors of the educational institution was problematic. It's not that you were hiding on purpose, it's just-- Cautious.

Or afraid, but not that Noah was a Prime, but… That Optimus would find out?

“These are for you,” Noah smiled broadly, holding out a bouquet of red roses to you. “Sorry about the slightly crumpled petals.”

You froze as you approached Optimus standing in the parking lot. He had come to pick you up, as he always did. How fortunate that Noah had decided to approach at this very moment.

“Thank you,” you threw a warning glance in Optimus' direction, praying to all the Gods that he wouldn't snap, and…. “Beautiful.”

Your gratitude made Noah relax a little. He did seem to be worried. Afraid of your reaction.

“Maybe you want to go for a ride? I have a car. I can give you a ride home.”

“She's not going,” the door slammed. The familiar voice, but without the metallic tones, cut her ears. You turned around, meeting your gaze with the blue pupils of Optimus' holoform. Yes, now, comparing Optimus and Noah's holoform, it was clear that it was unlikely that Prime would have looked so… Simply, “right, my Spark?”

You looked at Optimus for a couple seconds, and then shrugged.

“Uh, yeah no. Thanks, brother, for giving me a ride home today. But I'm going with Noah. Give Grandpa Ratchet a big hello,” you headed over to Noah, giving him a smile. She added quietly, though Prime could hear everything, “Don't worry, that's my big brother. He lives around here with his grandfather… He has dementia. Takes care of him and gives me a ride home sometimes.”

“Brother… They don't look alike at all,” Noah's face had a glow of doubt, but now he relaxed. He looked at Optimus respectfully, and then at his altmode, “A trucker?”

“Long hauler,” you answered for Prime, scooping Noah up under his arm. With your free hand, you clasped the bouquet more firmly to your side, “lead the way to your car. Bye, little brother!”

The altmode's door slammed a second time. Optimus drove away, and you couldn't help but hold back a cheer: it seemed that someone was intensely jealous. For some reason, it made you feel a little happy.

[hotvintagepoll]

Charlotte Greenwood (Oklahoma, The Gang's All Here)—gotta submit Queen of the Dancing Scrungle charlotte greenwood! she was a lovely very tall lady, but when she gets dancing you know there's gonna be some scrungle on the floor 2nite

James Cagney (Yankee Doodle Dandy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Public Enemy, White Heat, The Strawberry Blonde)—Whaddya mean I've gotta SUBMIT Cagney? You look up scrungly in the dictionary and there's a picture of him RIGHT THERE. He IS the scrungle. -SHORT KING 5'4 3/4 (1.65m) I could put him in my pocket -When he rolls down his car window (in Mayor of Hell) sticks his head out and makes some snarky comment (which I didn't hear because I was way too distracted) it's like struck by lightning, let me tell you -His hair is so wavy and sometimes it falls over his forehead and then I die a little -He plays The Public Enemy number one, everyone thinks of this as "the one with the grapefruit scene" but it is SO SO much more than that, it's also the one where he wears little striped pajamas -Multilingual (Yes, I'm the same person who submitted EGR and listed this earlier. Yes, this is a big thing for me.) He spoke Yiddish, guys and you can hear him speak it in a movie (Taxi) AND when the Warner Bros. tried to discuss him without him knowing they used Yiddish not realizing he'd understand everything -He talks so fast. Like. Staccatto. It's so fascinating -Loved animals & owned CHOW CHOWS (that's a very scrungly dog, c'mon) -Plays Bottom in Midsummer Night's Dream, that's the guy who gets turned into a DONKEY, nobody else could've played it like he did -Messed with Warner Bros. all the time, threatened to quit, told them he was going to go be a doctor instead -He does this little nose scrunch thing oh my god -Boy Meets Girl is a supremely underrated screw ball comedy and he has lots of silly little outfits in it and acts ridiculous the entire time -Was fascinated by farming and just puttered around on his tractor, like he's just a little guy! -There's a movie where he has a silly little mustache (I haven't seen it yet though) -They've dressed him up as bellhops, sailorsn cowboys and itty bitty gangsters [in movies] and frankly that should be enough -His first show biz job was a female dancer on the chorus line

This is round 1 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Charlotte Greenwood:

James Cagney:

James Cagney is such a scrungler. He could dance, he could sing, he embodied the gangster role, he was a short king, he had curly hair, what more could you possibly want?? Something about his face just feels so Looney Toons to me. He's like a little bug and I'm observing him through my magnifying glass. I'm obsessed with his hair and his scrunging demeanor!!! He's the most guy to me of all time. I tried to draw him once and completely failed. You could crumple him up like a tissue and watch him float away in the breeze.

Fanvid

A second fanvid

A third fanvid

He is the SCRUNGLIEST of gangsters, it’s the role that made him famous, and by god that’s for good reason. He also plays a peculiar little guy in musicals and occasionally westerns, all with a particular flavor of scruffy city rat energy that you can’t help but adore!  

[petricorah]

How's about "love shown through weapon's maintenance" for a zukka prompt?

Ahh this was such a good prompt! I do wish i wasn't half asleep in a car to do it proper justice, but i hope you enjoy!

-------

Zuko woke in a cold sweat.

He panted, frantically attempting to catch his breath as the dregs of his nightmare melted off his body. His chest was tight, and he felt like his throat was closed off. He looked wildly around his room but was met with abrupt darkness. He flicked his hand to produce the flame, and only sparks erupted from his hand.

He grit his teeth. Of course. Of course this was still a problem.

He'd been stressed for months, between his new duties as firelord and assassination attempts, and more and more, and for some reason, his ability to bend had dwindled, which had done nothing but increase the stress.

No one knew, of course. He'd kept it close to him. He was vulnerable at this time, and he didn't know who to trust. And the idea of telling his friends...he was supposed to be stronger than this. After all he's been through, this is what was bested him? The stress of running a nation? He'd even gone to the dragons themselves and found a new way of bending, and now it was gone again? Did he have to go back?

Zuko felt the panic rise in his chest once more, that awful feeling that he hadn't been able to shake, and he groaned loudly, the sound echoing off the room. He shook his head and threw the covers off of him. They crumpled to a pile on the ground. In the dark, he reached for the spot on his wall where his swords were mounted and closed his hand around the joint hilts.

A smidgen of the panic clogging his throat dissipated, but not by much.

He took them off the wall and carefully crept out of the room.

Since the third assassination attempt, he hadn't slept in the firelord's chambers. That let him sleep a little better--mostly because he didn't like staying in what he still considered to be his father's room. In order to call attention to his new resting place, there were no guards stationed outside of his door. That was fine enough--the guards hadn't been able to stop the assassins the first few times, so it was better to not have any blood shed on his behalf, anyway.

And it made for an easier escape when he wanted to pace the grounds in the middle of the night.

He made his way through the palace. He had no idea where he was going. He had no idea what he was doing. Why he was going there. With his swords. He just--

The air on his sweat soaked skin made him shiver. He stood in front of the door, swords drawn, and didn't move.

This is stupid.

He grit his teeth and stepped away from the door, causing the wood under his feet to creak. He winced, and the door opened before he could decide on running or jumping behind it.

"...Zuko?" Sokka said sleepily, rubbing the back of his head. His hair was down, framing his face, and sticking up in every direction. He looked groggy and sleep logged. "What are you doing here?"

"That's how you open the door?" He snapped. "What if I was an assassin?"

Sokka squinted at him. "I could tell it was you," he said. "You always shift like that in front of my door."

What? "I do not!"

Sokka's eyes trailed down to his swords. "Were you coming to kill me?"

"No!" He snarled in a hushed voice. "How could you say that?"

Sokka laughed sleepily, a good sound that Zuko couldn't appreciate because he couldn't shove down the panic in his chest.

"Relax," he said. "Why are you here, then?"

Zuko grit his teeth and his eyes drifted away from Sokka's gaze.

"Ah."

"I thought we could spar."

Sokka chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Nah."

"What? You're awake now."

"You look pissed," he said jabbing a finger at him accusatorily. "And I'm still half asleep. That's a recipe for getting my head lopped out."

"I wouldn't do that to you," he said through his teeth. "How could you think that I would do something like that? Do you really think I've lost that much control--"

"Woah," Sokka said and put both of his hands on Zuko's shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. "Chill out."

Zuko could feel the warmth through the tips of his fingers, grounding him. His eyes had adjusted in the dark, and he could see Sokka's features. Soft and concerned.

"Stay here," Sokka said. He withdrew his hands and a rush of coldness fell over Zuko at their absence.

Sokka came back out a few minutes lter, holding something in his hand. He motioned for him to follow, and they made their way out to the moonlit courtyard.

"Give me your swords," Sokka said. He sat himself down on the grass, and Zuko followed suit, handing him the swords. The night breeze was cold, and sittinf in the damp grass was colder, but he did.

He watched as Sokka took the object in his hand and began to sharpen his sword.

"I can do that myself," he said.

"I know."

Zuko glared at him, but settled into his seat and watched as Sokka ran the stone across the blade.

"What were you told to do when you sharpen your blade?" Sokka said.

"It's a task," he said. "What do you mean?" It was simply something you did to take care of your weapons.

"My dad said that you should use the opportunity of sharpening your blade to sharpen your mind," Sokka said. His long hair fell forward as he leaned to see what he was doing. "When I was younger, I thought it meant to focus on the battle ahead. But now...I use it to clear my mind."

"Should your head be any emptier?"

Sokka rolled his eyes and jabbed him in the ribs. "The best sword works as an extension of your body," he said.

Zuko narrowed his eyes. Of course.

"So you have to take care of yourself like you would a prized weapon." He pressed the stone on the tip of the sword, and the metal bent downwards. "Just like stress can destroy a blade, it can destroy you, too." Sokka relaxed his shoulders and let out a long breath. "I think it's important to remember that."

Zuko was silent for a moment. Then--

"I can't avoid being stressed," he said, and he reached forward to take the swords back, pulling them from Sokka's grasp and putting them back together. "I wanted to spar and get rid of that stress. That's why I came to you. If you don't want to do that, then I'll leave--"

"Zuko," Sokka said. "Just sit down."

Zuko glared down.

"Please. To humor me. And then you can fight me and knock me out so I can go back to sleep."

Zuko's eyes narrowed to slits, but he slumped down.

Sokka sat with his legs crossed, looking like Aang when he meditated.

"You're kidding me, right? Are you an air nomad?"

"Remember when we went to the boiling rock?" he said. "And you used your breath to stay warm?"

"I've tried that," he said. "But every time I sit still, I just think about everything that I have to do, and everything that's happening and--"

Sokka reached over and took his hand, and Zuko immediately closed his mouth. "Just breathe with me for a bit."

Zuko kept his mouth in a firm line, but did. He expected Sokka to remove his hand, but he didn't.

Sokka took a big breath next to him, and Zuko hesitated, but did. He closed his eyes inhaled, filling his lungs, taking in so much that his chest ached and his back cracked.

And he breathed out.

And again.

And again.

"You know we have your back, right?" Sokka said softly from beside him. Zuko could feel the warmth from his palm over his, radiating throughout his body. "All of us. We're here for you."

Zuko could feel the tightness swirl inside his chest, panic flaring up, and a burning behind his glassy eyes. "I don't want you to have to be."

Sokka laughed. "Well, too bad. You have friends. I hated it when you made me do exercises for my leg and when you wouldn't let me train until it healed. I especially hated when it gave out and you had to carry me all the way back to the palace. But that's what friends do. And that's what I'm doing for you."

Zuko's opened one eye, looking at him. "By comparing me to a weapon?"

He laughed again, and this time, Zuko appreciated it. He appreciated how soft and carefree it was. How deep and grounded it sounded. How he could hear it at the middle of the night. How he was there to hear if.

"Yeah. By comparing you to a weapon."

Sokka took another deep breath, and Zuko did as well.

And, in one final exhale, he felt the flames curl out of his mouth, and warmth spread across his body once more.