#he died the year after I graduated but he is cheering you on

[marlynnofmany]

As my high school history teacher used to say, on an almost daily basis, “NOTES!”

Picture it shouted by a grinning fellow with a tan complexion, a graying ponytail, and a goatee to match. You are a high schooler listening to lectures and watching documentaries, and your final test will involve writing an essay on this stuff, and he knows that the only lifeline you have to keep from forgetting all of it is that notebook in front of you.

You may not know how to describe his accent or his ethnicity, because he gives a different answer each time someone asks, to the point where it’s become a running joke that he was born on a flying boat over China, but you do know this: he wants you to succeed.

And you do that by taking “NOTES!!!”

[ashwhowrites]

Can you do a fic with Eddie x reader and basically hellfire doesn’t know that Eddie has a gf. So when reader stops by the drama room to give him something that he left at her house they’re all surprised and bombard Eddie with questions. They just can’t believe he got a gf and didn’t tell them and he’s all like yea we’ve been dating for months or years and just brags about being with reader

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Secret girlfriend

Eddie liked to keep his life as private as he could. Not that he was embarrassed, but he liked being a mystery to people. He was close with the Hellfire boys, but still didn't let them know everything in his life.

His girlfriend, Y/N, has been in his life for two years. She was the highlight in his life and he liked to keep him all to himself. Wayne loved her, and that's the only other person Eddie would share her with. They started dating her junior year and now she graduated and went to college.

She stayed in Hawkins for him to graduate, which meant everything to him. He knew it was early but he was already thinking of rings where they'd move to, and how big their house would be. He already wanted her until the day he died.

Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts as Dustin groaned at his dice roll.

"Damn another miss"

Eddie laughed at Dustin's displeasure, continuing with the campaign. Then there was a knock on the door, and everyone's heads snapped towards it.

"Who's that?" Mike asked

"Whoever it is shall be punished!" Gareth declared as he punched the air. The boys cheered with him, pounding the table as they yelled "punished" over and over.

Eddie walked towards the door with a hard expression as he swung it open. His tongue was ready to lash out but all his words died on his tongue when she stood in front of him.

"Hey, baby!" She squealed, her arms thrown around her boyfriend. Eddie smiled and hugged her back, sneaking a small kiss. She looked gorgeous in her simple jeans and his band T-shirt, with marks on her neck from the night before.

"There's my girl," Eddie said as his eyes checked her out.

"Who is it?" Dustin called after him, Eddie's body blocking the visitor.

"Boys, this is my sexy girlfriend, Y/N. Behave yourselves." He instructed, stepping aside. The boys stared as the girl walked through, shock written in their eyes.

"Hi, I've heard a lot about you," Y/N said politely as she walked in with a smile. Eddie stood behind her, reaching forward to wrap his arm around her.

"But-but we heard nothing about you. What is going on?" Dustin asked as he stood up. He walked over to the couple and held out his hand. "I'm Dustin, practically Eddie's best friend."

Y/N smiled and shook the small boy's hand.

"That's my bad. I keep her all to myself." Eddie said, snuggling his face into her neck. She laughed as his nose moved back and forth, making it tickle.

"How long have you been together?" Mike asked. He was also shocked that Eddie kept his girlfriend a secret.

"Two years," Eddie shrugged, planting a wet kiss on her cheek as he let her go. He put his hand on Dustin's head and turned him around. He walked back to the table, everyone still staring at her.

"TWO YEARS?" Gareth screamed, "I've known you since middle school, and you don't tell me you have a serious relationship?"

"Like I said, I like her all to myself. Now dear, how can I help you?" Eddie asked with a smirk. He sat at the head of the table and moved his arms behind his head.

She walked over and pulled a notebook out of her bag. "Figured you'd need this."

Eddie gasped as she passed over his notebook. "I've been looking everywhere for this." He was quick to grab the book and open it up. All his campaign ideas were written in his sloppy handwriting.

"Yeah I found it under my bed this morning, and I have no clue how you managed that," she laughed.

"I can think of a few ways," Gareth muttered. His comment was met with a smack on the back of the head from Eddie. The heaviness of Eddie's rings added more pain to his skull.

"I said behave," Eddie warned, but he kept his eyes on his girl.

"Thank you, baby," Eddie said as he stood up. He pulled her into a slow and teasing kiss. She whined when he pulled away, needing more.

"I'll see you tonight," she said against his lips, stealing one more kiss before she turned to leave.

"I love you," Eddie called out after her. She looked over her shoulder as she opened the door.

"I love you too," she smiled.

As the door behind her closed, she could hear all the boys bombing Eddie with questions all at once.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunsonmain @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[itgetzweird08]

one two three four

katsuki bakugo x Gn!reader

One week later

T-Minus three weeks until the dance

—------------

 “Good Morning!” 

For so early in the morning, the rat principal was very cheerful. The same couldn’t be said for his human climbing tree. Mr. Aizawa stood slouched, eyes dark and face heavy with lack of sleep. Nezu sat snuggly in the binding cloths on the tired man’s shoulder. Mitsuki had only spoken to the principal on a handful of occasions, and she always thought he was very…unique. But he was damn good at his job, and he really cared about his students. That's why Mitsuki had such a good feeling about the request she was about to make, despite it being such a large one. 

“‘Morning. Thanks for meeting with me, I know your schedules are probably packed with everything going on around here.”

Nezu smiled cheerfully at the woman, waving a paw in dismissal. “Nonsense! I’m always happy to meet with a parent, especially you, Mrs. Bakugo. Young Bakugo is an amazing student and has done a lot for the country. We owe him a lot. Now, let’s get into the conference room. From the summary of your reason for meeting that you gave me, I figured it would be best that the rest of the faculty joined us as well.”

The three walked into the conference room, with Mitsuki taking a seat at the head of the table. Around the table sat the UA teachers, Hounddog, and Hawks. While initially shocked by his presence, she realized that it made sense. In her email to Nezu, she mentioned that the subject of the meeting had to do with bending an international rule, and Hawks had a lot of contact with other countries as the new head of the Hero Commission.  She was grateful he was here, as she knew he had a particular soft spot for Katsuki. If she remembered correctly, he called him “A little asshole with a lot of spunk”. She thought it was a fair statement.

After exchanging greetings and pleasantries, and accepting a cup of tea from Present Mic, she began the meeting.

“Thank you all for being here. I recognize that you all are busy so I’m gonna try and make this quick,” Mitsuki sat up straighter, folding her hands together as she looked around the table. “A couple of years ago, Katsuki met another hero student at the I-Expo. They stayed in contact for a while, got really close, and eventually started dating. They care for each other, a lot. They talk every night and are a huge pillar of support for one another. So much so that,” 

Mitsuki found herself getting choked up. She always did when she thought about the possibility that she would have to deliver that letter to you. She cleared her throat, taking a breath. She hated crying, especially in front of people. After a moment, she continued.

“Right before the war, Katsuki gave me a box to send them in case something happened to him. He truly cares about them. On that note, as you all know, the Spring Dance is coming up. Despite what most people think, Katsuki actually enjoys dressing up. I thought he would be excited about the dance, but he wasn’t. In fact, he’s dreading it. All his friends have been talking about are their dates, and Katsuki refuses to take anyone but them. Now, for my request. Katsuki died for this country. This is his last chance for some fun before graduating and becoming a real pro. So please,” she bowed deeply as she spoke. Mitsuki had a lot of pride and was known for rarely ever apologizing or bowing to anyone. But Katsuki deserved to be happy. She just wanted her kid to be okay.

“Please allow them to attend as Katsuki’s date. I can give you records, letters of recommendation, and even character statements. They are a great kid and an even better student. They would cause no trouble. I just want Katsuki to be happy.”

The room was silent as all of the staff looked at Mitsuki. They then looked at each other, all thinking the same thing. Finally, Hawks broke the silence. “To be honest with you, Mrs. Bakugo, this is a complicated situation. Other countries still don’t have a particularly great view of Japan. Trying to convince them that they should allow a pardon, just for a school dance? Realistically, it’s damn near impossible,” Mitsuki felt her heart sink, a disappointed sigh leaving her. Well, at least no one could say she didn’t tr- 

“However, you make a very compelling point. Young Bakugo saved not only Japan but the rest of the world. He is, without a doubt, a hero. I make you no promises on what the rest of the commission or international board might say, but I can promise that I will advocate for Bakugou and get you an answer before the end of the week.” 

Mitsuki broke out into a rare, wide, sincere grin. She bowed once more to the room, bending deeply.

“Thank you all.”

————

It was about 15 minutes before your usual morning talk with Katsuki when you got the call. Before the war, Katsuki gave you his parents' contact info in case of an emergency. You had only spoken to them on a handful of occasions, wishing them a happy birthday or anniversary, shouting ‘Hello!’ when you were on the phone and Katsuki was at home. But you had never really spoken to them one-on-one until Mitsuki called you.

You answered without hesitation, disregarding your normal early morning TikTok scroll. Something had to be wrong for her to call you, you figured. Your voice was frantic when you answered. “Hello? Is everything alright Mrs. Bakugou? Is Katsu-“

“Chillax kid! Jeez!” 

You blinked, confused at her tone. Okay, so clearly there wasn’t an emergency. 

“I’m sorry, I thought something was wrong. You’ve never called before-“ 

“Sorry, I should make more of a habit of calling my future daughter in law” 

You chose to ignore her comment. “So..if there’s no emergency, not to be rude, why are you calling?” You could picture her shit-eating grin in your head, knowing it was where Katsuki had gotten it from. 

“Well…I spoke to Hawks, you know the head of the hero commission here in Japan, he spoke with your government and pulled some strings…how would you like to be Katsuki’s date to the Spring dance?”

————

I’m having trouble tagging some of yall 😔. Anyways sorry this is so late, uni has been beating me into the floor 😭

Taglist: : @sleepyeri @teeesthings @zaiban2989 @kathsuhki @rinbeeyum @oladelmars @luv-for-fictional-characters @attackonnat @ratcity12345 @bffrs-stuff @ch3rryjampi3 @venus1224idkpleaze @fiannee @consentismfhot @abcdefghijklmmopqrstuvwxyz @bl-og134 @amayaaaxx @mikestuffffs @mushroomsoup119 @thatprettybunny @wheezdostuff @devils-adversary @enony-da @matchat3a @kawliflo @urmomsbananabread @anicaaa67 @that-sweet-mars @crimsonrubie @xanneeeyyyy @sweetloveandaffection-blog @ghostreadersthings @itsdragonius @snore-3 @sleepyk0dyz @ririoutspoken @ivuriexo @getosuckers

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Some James, Lily, and Sirius notes

I needed to figure out for my fic what Sirius was doing after graduation and before Azkaban. Like, what James, Lily, and Sirius were doing for a living, you know. The common fanon consensus is that Sirius and James were Aurors, but I found an interview that gave the closest to canon answer that we have:

Q: Harry often wondered about his parents lives before he died. What did Lily, James, Remus, Lupin and Sirius do after Hogwarts? JKR: To take Remus first, Remus was unemployable. Poor Lupin, prior to Dumbledore taking him in, led a really impoverished life because no one wanted to employ a werewolf. The other three were full-time members of the Order of the Phoenix. If you remember when Lily, James and co. were at school, the first war was raging. It never reached the heights that the second war reached, because the Ministry was never infiltrated to that extent but it was a very bad time, the same disappearances, the same deaths. So that’s what they did, they left school. James has gold, enough to support Sirius and Lily. So I suppose they lived off a private income. But they were full-time fighters, that’s what they did, until Lily fell pregnant with Harry. So then they went into hiding.

(Interview)

And I found this answer hilarious and it implies 2 things:

That my assumption that James and Lily went into hiding prior to Harry's birth when the prophecy was made is likely what the intention was.

And that there is a nonzero chance Sirius lived with James and Lily at least part-time. He was, after all, living off of James' inheritance (while Remus didn't). JKR stated James supported Sirius and Lily, not Remus who was suspected to be a traitor at the time.

The mental image of a married James and Lily with an infant Harry and Sirius all in the same house is hilarious and I just wanted to share it.

We know how close James and Sirius were:

“Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”

(PoA, Ch10)

They were so co-dependant they enchanted the two-way mirrors becouse they couldn't bear to stay in separate detentions from each other. James and Sirius' friendship was insane.

And Lily's letter to Sirius actually hints the situation wasn't far off from what JKR said in the above interview:

We were so sorry you couldn’t come, but the Order’s got to come first, and Harry’s not old enough to know it’s his birthday anyway! James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell—also Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much. Wormy was here last weekend.

(DH, Ch10)

It's made clear Lily wrote to Sirius outside of her relationship with James, that she and Sirius were close by that point, and that Sirius came by whenever he could. I don't know, I just find these three and their potential dynamic in these few years between graduation and the end of the war super interesting.

like Lily and James are married, James and Sirius are best-best friends, and Lily is clearly very close to Sirius by her death. He's probably her closest friend (or one of them) when she dies. And, like, these three are raising baby Harry between them.

Like, Lily asking Sirius to come over to cheer up James... idk... it makes me feel things.

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Your mama’s crying

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x daughter reader

Warning: death, angst, Ian Doyle, depression, Ian calling reader by her “name”

It had been seven months…

Seven months since your mother had passed, your best friend had died at the hands of your father Ian Doyle. Seven months of losing yourself and recreating a new version of who you once were, everything had changed once she left, even me.

I couldn't bare looking into the mirror to stare at the dark eyes, raven hair that I mourned the loss of so I dyed it. Pink. Purple. Blue. Green. Red. Before settling on a beautiful Blonde that she would've loved. I swapped my glasses for coloured contacts, it hurt to see the ghost of my mother in myself.

Seven months and yet it felt like seven years..

The first day had begun a month after mum had passed, I was curled in her bed my face smothered in her blankets that were slowly loosing her scent. Morgan had burst into the room throwing my gym clothes at me telling me to get ready, we ran ten kilometres that day only stopping at the lookout on the hill to yell out our frustrations at the world.

It became a routine of sorts and sometimes Penelope would join us although she couldn’t keep up with us as often. It was okay. We would be okay, Sergio clung to me more as the months grew almost as if he just knew.

I sat with Derek on the roof, his arm wrapped securely around my shoulders as we spoke "I miss her" I whispered curling myself into him more. "Me too, miniP' he kissed my head before resting his cheek on it"me too he repeated sadly "she'd be proud of you, you know that right?" | nodded biting my lip.

I hope she would be

Although I wanted revenge

I had graduated university top of my class with the team cheering me on in the crowd, how was I to see those two guilty faces. It hurt my mother not being in the front row like she was meant to but I imagined she had been.

My father loved me in a strange way

The team thought it best to use me as the bait to catch him, I called him to a cafe just a quiet one that I had visited him before at. Staring at him I felt nothing, his face was blank “whats the softest way to say you took away my friend, my buddy?. Whats the kindest way to say you took away my friend?”.

“You wouldn’t understand Alora” he whispered “so help me understand father” hopefully the team should walk in any moment. “It was simply fate my dear, we have a past” fate? Fate took my mother? My heart had shattering once more.

I wanted to scream and cry, throw anything available at him but I was just so numb and maybe he knew that as he leaned over. Placing a gentle kiss on my forehead before the team burst in “Je t'aime Y/n” he whispered I love you Y/n “Adieu père” I whispered. Goodbye father

How dare he simply call it fate

“Elle m'a enlevé ma fille”

She took my daughter away

I was bound to him, mum was bound to him

I was his daughter

It was all a blur as he was arrested, I had become numb but I knew I hated France it would never be the same I’m not sure Virginia could be the same anymore.

I never went home that day, finding myself at Penelope’s front doorstep tears streaming down my face. Her arms had become home I wondered if my mother would be disappointed in me- of who I had become.

“Oh my sweetheart”

I wished I could’ve told her sooner about my adoration for women of my harboured feelings for an older blonde that I had no chance with. I had an internship with the bau while I found a job that I actually wanted, I had plans just as my mother once had.

We had been called into the conference room, I stood near the back “everyone take a seat” Hotch sighed as JJ stood beside him. "7 months ago I made a decision that affected this Team." he said, and I knew immediatly that this was about mum.

"As you know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. The doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfilitration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know." he said and I felt sick to my stomach.

"She stayed there until she was well enough to travel, she was reassigned to Paris where she was given several different identities which we had no access to for her security." He goes on.

"She's alive?" Penelope asked.

"But we buried her..." Reid says hurt.

I had buried my mother

I had buried my mother

Yet she had walked into the room with a smile on her face as if these seven months had never existed, I had buried my mother for nothing. These seven months had been a lie, all the words JJ and Aaron said had been lies all those tender hugs and kisses were full of guilt.

I couldn’t help but leave quickly as mum made her way around the team giving out hugs unaware she had watched me go. I couldn’t be there, I couldn’t be in that room not with everyone so happy to have her back, I grieved my mother.

I mourned someone who wasn’t dead

Maybe it was selfish of me but I left the team that day, finally moved my things out of my mothers apartment now that she was back. I ignored her calls so angry she could do such a thing the same went with Aaron and JJ, how could they? my mother?.

The team had called me often saying how my mother had been crying, her sobs begging for me and maybe in some sick way she knew just how I had felt.

I laid with my head in Penelopes lap as I sobbed, her soothing hands running through my hair “I know it’s hard right now Y/n but maybe it would be a good thing if you started talking to her again”.

“I’m just so scared Pen”

“And thats okay baby cakes”

It wouldn’t be another two weeks before I worked up the courage to talk to her, Rossi was hosting a part while I had arrived with the blonde. Mum made her way beside me “I’m proud of you Y/n” she slowly placed a hand on my shoulder.

She took a deep breath in tears already staining her waterline “and I’m sorry, if I could’ve taken you with me I would’ve but Aaron had said no. I asked them everyday about you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here I’m sorry, I put my little girl through all this pain”

She moved her hands to cup my face “my baby girl, and when you graduated Uni. I made sure Aaron got me a clip of you. I never once stopped thinking about you, Mon cher I love you”

“And I am so so proud of you” the warmth of her lips pressed against my forehead cemented she was real “I’m sorry mama” I cried. “I was just so angry, I didn’t mean to make you cry” she pulled me into her chest rocking us gently side by side.

After a while she chuckle causing me to look up confused “you and Garcia?” She smirked with a raised brow

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge— Chapter 9

When you died, you were going to have an all white funeral. 

It was something that had been decided by your entire family, not even by your agreement but by tradition. According to them, a funeral was a celebration, not an occasion to be sad. 

When you joined the 141, they were required to ask how you wanted preparations to be set up, if there were any “special requests.”

Your mom answered that one for you. 

Never in his life did Gaz actually assume he would show up to a funeral in white. 

He almost thought he would have to do it. 

“This is bull shit!”

Soap’s yell snaps Gaz out of his thoughts, and he looks back at where the man is sitting on the edge of his seat yelling at the others in the room. Specifically you, who’s sitting there half in tears. If your laughing or crying is still completely unknown to him. “That clue is bull shit and you know it.”

“I’m literally HANDING you the answer!!” You yell back at him, almost choking over both your words and laughter at the same time. 

“NO. YOU ARENT. THAT ANSWER IS SO SHITTY A TOILET WOUKDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!!!” Soap hollers back, and the rookies explode with laughter. 

“ITS A FUCKING MOVE THEY DO!”

“I don’t know what the fuck a pas de deux is but it does NOT. EXIST.”

“Bitch i was one of these hoes for twelve years, I WOUKD KNOW”

And so it continues. It had started out with a simple game between the four of you, well, three considering Si opted out, but it quickly turned into a good natured screaming match over the game. Headbands always turned out like this though, at least whenever Soap played. 

“Thirty seconds, suds.” Price grumbled from the couch, and you snapped your fingers quickly, trying to think of something to give him a hint.

“Fuck uhhh, okay The Nutcracker?”

“Actor?” 

“No, no but you’re close. They move around a lot more?”

“A soldier.”

“No, damnit. Like, like— fuck, fuck!! Okay pink fluffy skirts-“

“DANCER!”

“Yes!!” You scream, and you both jump for joy. Everyone in the room cheers, and Gaz even notices Ghost crack a smile under his mask. 

“Fuckin ‘Pas de Deux’ what kind of a clue is that” Soap grunts, knocking back another drink. You just roll your eyes, sighing loudly. 

“It’s literally a dance move everyone knows. I could have said pirouette and you still wouldn’t catch on, I don’t see a difference.” The silent insult makes him chuckle, and Gaz’s smile widens.

“Lay offit ay? Not my fault nobody knows dance terms.”

“I actually knew that.” Gaz pipes up, and Ghost nods in agreement. “It is a pretty common dance move.” 

You throw your hands in the air as if to say see fucker, I was right. 

Soap just rolls his eyes. 

“Didn’t know you danced,” Gaz said, lifting his drink to his lips. He tries to ignore the way your eyes follow the movement, or how it takes you a few seconds longer than usual to respond. 

“Mhm. Did it with my sister for a while. Wasn’t very good, unfortunately.” Gaz nods, humming. 

“When’d you quit?” He asks, pretending to swirl his drink around in the glass. 

You eye him suspiciously, trying to blink through the haze the alcohol has made in your mind. “Few years back, round the same time I enlisted.” 

Gaz nodded. It felt wrong, using you for information like this. But this had become more than just some challenge for him, it was genuine curiosity. Like there was a constant itch in the back of his mind that he couldn’t get to die down unless he got some answers. 

Usually, Ghost was the tech person. He would be the one to hack cameras, snoop on people, be the physical stalker. The problem they all ran into, though, is that a lot of your life was online. You were the youngest of them all, younger than Gaz even, and while they gave you shit for it, it meant you were way more online than they were. 

Because of that, they couldn’t rely on just your files to tell them everything. There was a world hidden somewhere in all your deleted accounts, messages encoded in emails and photos from after your graduation. Piecing them together was too big of a job for one man alone, especially men of their age. 

So they didn’t do it alone. 

It took your near death experience to make grown ass men to realize how fucking stupid they were being about this. Simon said it himself, the 141 didn’t operate by itself. It was a team. They were a team. They did things together, which meant they would get  their answers together. It also meant they would get to share you at the same time, but that wasn’t a foreign concept to them. 

And none of them really had an issue sharing with each other. 

That night, after everyone else had turned in , Gaz got to work. He used the best lead of you he had (your beginning of the year photo for Junior year, taken just before everything disappeared) and worked his way down. He flew through all of your files, finding names, dates and addresses. Long ago he figured out that numbers were the most important thing in a task like this. Without them you could get nowhere. He followed paths he had taken dozens of times, different directions to get to the same conclusion. There wasn’t anything there. Just like you predicted, it all stopped at your junior year. 

This time, though, that wasn’t what he was looking for. 

Once he hit that wall again, He went back and retraced his steps. He included references to clubs in his search, finding every extra circular at your school and looking into their history. Nothing came up for a long, long time. 

It was nearly sunrise before he found something. Normal people would have seen this and not batted an eye, but Gaz was too keen in his research to miss it. 

In an article about your schools dance team, just a few months before graduation two names glared out on the screen at him. Your name, and someone else’s who rhymed quite well with yours. The gears spun in his head, and he laughed to himself in pure shock.

They were on a a wild goose chase for the wrong person. 

It explained why he was physically unable to find anything on you, because he wasn’t even looking for you in the first damn place. He was tracking down your sister. 

He took the two names and pasted them into his system, hitting enter on the keyboard. 

Over three hundred search results came up, but only one caught his eye. 

“Local College student gets killed in school shooting, family is left devastated.”

He might have to do a bit more digging than he thought. 

Finding the photos was the easy part. Now that he knew who you were, they were everywhere. You really had gotten up to a lot behind their backs, you had at least tried out every club once and volunteered everywhere in your damn state. It was impressive that you managed to switch personalities so quickly, going from someone so loud and outgoing to… well, you. He knew hiding this much information wasn’t easy, having to go under an alias a few times to escape capture taught him that the hard way. But you did it with ease, as if you…

Oh. 

Oh.

He had to tell Price.

AN: if you can spot the audio reference and tell me which audio it comes from, who made it and give me a time stamp i’ll post the next chapter early (as in; as soon as i see the ask/comment)

[cat-in-a-box13]

Twisters HC Part 2, electric boogaloo

ft. my attempts to make a coherent timeline based almost entirely on vibes

Kate and Tyler take an excruciatingly long time to get together. If the movie is set is June (which is what I'm going with based on when tornado season starts and the fact that it makes the most sense for the movie to start a little after the beginning of tornado season), they dance around each other until August after the last chase of the season.

However, by the end of the first week, the Wranglers are sick of their shit. Boone dreams of locking them in a closet together. Javi and Lily actively scheme to make them room together. Dani sticks a post-it note to Tyler's back that says "kiss me" and shoves him at Kate. Dexter intentionally sets their sleeping bags together every time they chase overnight. Nothing works until Kate finally just walks up to him after the last chase of the season and asks if he plans on kissing her, and Tyler responds by dipping her in the sappiest Hallmark kiss you can imagine. No one is sure whether to cheer or groan, because from here on out they will be even more insufferable.

Two weeks after she starts dating Tyler, Kate wakes Javi up in the middle of the night sobbing about how she's going to get him killed just like she got Jeb killed. Javi just silently calls her mom and hands her the phone. Cathy provides expert advice, and Javi provides hesitant head pats because what do you say to that?

Javi and Kate fight like siblings. The first time Javi steals Kate skittles and she full on tackles him, it surprised the Wranglers. The third time, no one even looked up. The seventh time, Tyler just called Cathy and put her on speaker.

Javi's mom left when he was a toddler, and his father traveled a lot for work. When Javi and his dad moved to Sapulpa, they became the Carter's closest neighbors. Rural neighbors, which means there's about a mile of the Carter's farmland in between their houses, but Javi and Kate met when Kathy dragged her over there to deliver a welcome pie.

Because Javi's dad traveled so much, Javi spent a ton of time over at Kate's house, to the point where Kate started calling the guest room, "Javi's room".

Javi's dad died unexpectedly a few weeks after Javi's 18th birthday. Cathy offered to let Javi move in with them, at least until he graduated high school, but Javi insisted on staying at his house, and his room at Kate's house went back to being the guest room. Of course, it didn't stay empty; there was almost always at least one Tornado Tamer that needed a place to crash and now, five years later, Cathy finds herself with a new group of kids (because they're all kids to her) crashing in her guest room and raiding her fridge.

Kate left town a few weeks after the funerals finished. She didn't go straight to New York but instead worked her way up the East Coast for about two years before she landed her meteorology job in New York 3 years before the start of the movie.

Javi drifted aimlessly for about six months before he served four years of active duty in (insert whatever military branch is the most likely to do whatever it was Javi was doing because I don't know how the military works) and is now an IRR for the next four years (I think this is how it works?). He got off active duty about six months before the events of the movie (based on his hair has somewhat grown out of military regulations at the start of the movie, but he still gives off military vibes).

Tyler and his team have been chasing unofficially for about six years, but it wasn't their full-time job until about two years ago, shortly after they brought Lily and her drone on-board.

They don't livestream every chase. Instead, they film for the majority of tornado season and try to get enough footage to be able to release weekly videos through the off-season, in addition to making more educational-type videos about tornadoes and what to do if one is coming for you, as well as showing behind the scenes kind of stuff, like what modifications they've made to the truck and stuff like that. The Wrangler's family dynamic is as much a draw for their audience as the tornadoes are and they know it.

Boone has absolutely stuck a Lego up his nose on a dare, and Dexter yelled at him the whole way to the ER when it got stuck.

Dexter thinks he's the only sane person on the team, but in reality, he gives off serious mad scientist energy when he gets going. He also thinks he's the Team Dad, but it's really Tyler. Dexter is the fun childless uncle that bought you toys your parents hated at Christmas and let you drive the ATV before you were old enough to.

[lillaydee]

In Time

Rancher Joel Miller / Reader

You lost your dear Uncle. Your TV Star boyfriend dumped you. You needed a job. You got one at a ranch in Wyoming. Where you met Joel. A very grumpy man. Grumpy man has issues.

WARNINGS:

Grumpy Joel, Hurt Joel, Grieving Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Mentions of Hostage Situation and Shooting, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst

SERIES MASTER LIST

---

You waited all morning for him to pick you up, as promised. He insisted that he would. No need to get a car, Sweets. I’ll get the car. I’ll pick you up, we’ll go together. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’ll be there for you Sweets. You know that, right? I love you, Sweets. Benny was like a father to me, too. Of course I will be there. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

The service was due to start in an hour. He was still not here. He was two hours late. Calls went straight to voicemail. You were supposed to be there already, greeting the guests. Fuck this. You grabbed your purse and keys and left, driving yourself to the service. Who cared if you arrived in your old beater rather than a fancy town car, right? So long as you got there.

The traffic in LA was no joke. Hence the plan to leave three hours before the service. You made it with five minutes to spare. You were ridiculously disappointed in yourself. You fell for his sweet talks again. He was no longer the sweet, dependable, considerate David you met 10 years ago. He was Dave Landon now. Successful, sought after, crazed over. And you were still the same boring old Amelia, the simple vet, who hadn’t fully practiced for the last three years, ever since Benny got sick.

You rushed in, the pews in the small room already filled with Benny’s old friends, mostly his age. You apologized profusely to the proprietor, who kindly waved your apology off, already aware of the reason you were late. You took the opportunity to go to his casket, and studied the face of the man who took you in, raised you as his own, and made you who you were today.

He looked good. He was right. This place would do a good job, he had said, and they really did. He looked his age, not the shriveled old man the disease had turned him into. Your heart ached at the memory of your dashing uncle in his prime, looking like a movie star, picking you up in his fancy car on your first day at school in a strange country, a far too glamourous private school, where you looked like a twelve-year-old, while the other girls looked twenty.

When your own parents died Benny had flown back to the UK overnight, being your only family left. He officially adopted you and took you with him from the small English countryside farm you had grown up in and brought you to LA where he owned an art gallery, to live with him. His partner left him for refusing to give you up, and he never had a serious relationship again. You lost count of the number of times he had shut the door on his ‘friends’ who knocked on his door late at night for a good time just because you were there. His life became about you. He paid for you to get the best education you could get, and you managed to get a degree in veterinary medicine back in the UK, him scheduling his work to coincide with your breaks there so that he could spend as much time with you. The day you graduated he was cheering for you so loudly, his voice alone overpowered the claps and music, his eyes glistening with tears at your success.

So when he got sick, you stopped everything to take care of him. David had landed his role of a lifetime, and had asked you to move in with him, but you refused. How could you when the man who dropped everything for you needed you?

And now, the man was gone. You had never felt so alone before. Your friends were far and wide, but you had focused so much on Benny these three years you hadn’t really kept in touch with most of them. You had hoped that David would be here with you, at least, be your hand to hold, but that had been too much to ask, it seemed.

You bent down, kissed your dear uncle’s cold hands and cheek one last time, and told him you would speak to him every night, like you had always done since your first night here.

“I promise, Benny. I love you.”

---

The service was beautiful. Simple, dignified, just as he had wanted. When everything was cleared, you finally checked your phone, hoping to see a text, an explanation from David, but there was none.

When the two of you met, you two were fresh faced university students, instantly hitting it off. You had always been shy, never having a lot of friends, and even if you did, after graduating, everyone scattered all over. You had chosen to go back to LA, not wanting Benny to be alone. He came with you, chasing his dreams to be an actor.

David worked hard to pursue his acting career, going for audition after audition, getting small roles here and there, working as a waiter in between jobs. During that time, Benny and you had supported him, his own family being as unstable as they were. You ran lines with him for auditions, held his head when he cried from yet another rejection, paid his rent when he ran short. You were there for him.

That first year Benny got sick, he helped you take care of him, taking him to chemo when you were still working, caring for him at home, keeping him company. He held you at night when you came home tired, listened to your stories, laughed at your jokes, cried when you cried. He was there for you, as much as you were for him.

But then, one day, he auditioned for a pilot, which became an instant hit. In a flash, David Trafford became Dave Landon, TV heart throb who played Jerry, a superstar playboy turned clumsy, inexperienced dad who had a baby left on his doorstep. You quit your job to take care of Benny, David coming by when he was available to do so, the frequency lessening quickly as the show became more and more successful.

He had been very respectful of your request for privacy, not wanting your private life to be plastered all over the internet and tabloids. His agent was very happy about this, preferring that he be linked with famous actresses to promote his name. You didn’t mind, you knew the game, and he was very frank with you about it all. So, you managed to stay away from red carpets, limiting your relationship to the privacy of his house and Benny’s, and the odd outings. Taking care of Benny was a full-time job anyway, and he understood.

But as he got more and more famous, free time became less and less. His agent was taking advantage of his fame, booking him for anything and everything within every inch of his life. Still you understood, knowing this was his dream, and you were not going to stand in his way.

You had supported his dream, his career, his passion.

But when Benny died, when your world stopped, he didn’t show.

You were suddenly seething. You had never asked him for anything. And the one time you needed him, he was a no show.

You drove over and unlocked his front door. You turned the corner of his foyer, walking into the music filled kitchen.

Where Cleo, his costar from the show, whom he had always been gossiped with, was cooking.

Naked.

You stood there, not saying anything, until he himself came out of the pantry, also naked, holding a bottle of wine, and saw you.

“What are you doing here, Sweets? Why didn’t you call first?”

Cleo stood behind him, covering her body with his. You had no idea why, it’s not that you hadn’t seen it before. Her nudes, her sex videos were all over the internet.

You kept quiet. You didn’t say anything. You were wondering why you were not feeling anything but anger at the fact that he didn’t show for Benny’s funeral. He quickly put an apron on to cover himself, again, you didn’t know why, it’s not like you hadn’t seen him naked before.

“I swear this is not what it looks like. We were just getting comfortable with each other, for the show. We have a sex scene coming up. That’s all.”

Cleo said nothing. Just stood behind him, eyeing you up and down.

Still you said nothing. He looked flustered now, knowing there was no way out of this, that you knew, the jig was up.

“Sweets, you know I love you; she means nothing to me. It’s just sex. You’re the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Cleo huffed and went off into his room angrily, slamming the door behind her.

Why didn’t you feel anything? You should be angry, right? This was your boyfriend. And you just caught him naked with his costar in his kitchen. A costar who, incidentally, seemed really angry at the fact that ‘she meant nothing’ to him.

He took a step closer to you, and that’s when you saw them. His eyes. He was high.

“You missed Benny’s funeral.”

You turned around to leave.

“Wait! Benny died?”

You stopped and turned, glaring at him. He suddenly looked annoyed, as if you were being unreasonable with him.

“How high are you? How long have you been high? I told you the day it happened. You told me you were coming to take me to the funeral. I waited for you all morning. I almost missed his funeral!”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry Sweets. I don’t remember.”

You turned around, leaving for good. You didn’t have time for this bullshit. You didn’t sign up for this.

“Well what did you expect? You think I’m gonna wait around for you when you put another man and his needs before me? Fuck you, Amy! Fuck you! We’re over! You hear that? I’m breaking up with you! See who will have you now, you boring bitch!”

You slammed the door behind you, leaving this ranting man behind. A man you didn’t know at all, who was not the sweet, caring man you met and fell for years ago.

---

You gave Benny’s house one more look once the boxes had been picked up and the house cleaned. It looked a lot smaller when it’s empty. Funny how that worked. You remember being in complete awe of it all when you first came here. You went to the backyard one last time and laid in the hammock you and Benny had installed together when you first got there, remembering all the time the two of you had done so, talking to the stars. He had you convinced that your parents were among them, and that if you talked to them, tell them your problems, ask them questions, about anything at all, you could always, always hear their replies, and that you would never be alone.

You smiled thinking about the time when he tried to get off the hammock after you had fallen asleep in it during the early days and ended up tipping the hammock over, sending you crashing down to the concrete floor. You broke your arm that night, and Benny carried a sobbing you into the ER shoeless, wearing only his sweatpants screaming for help. He was devastated that he had injured his baby. It took a lot of convincing from you to have him join you in the hammock again, and so much practice getting out of it without tipping anyone over.

You remembered the last week before he passed, where he insisted on lying in the damn hammock with you still, and you helped him lift his frail body into it, just so the two of you could cuddle in it the way you always had. You remembered him falling asleep, his head on your shoulder, telling you he loved you and that being your uncle was his greatest achievement.

He never woke up again.

You caressed his side of the hammock one last time and looked at the stars.

“You’d better be in the stars above Wyoming too, Benny.”

---

You felt like you had been hit by a train. You fell asleep about two hours into the early morning flight and was shaken awake not 10 minutes later. The plane was landing in Jackson Hole shortly. Please put your seat into the upright position, miss, the pretty flight attendant had said to you.

After Benny passed, you were busy taking care of his considerable estate. He had left you everything. You had tried to stay, but you couldn’t help but see him everywhere. The school he used to drive you to, the restaurant he loved, the mural he had liked, the shops he frequented. And at home, you were haunted by his memory. His favourite chair. His slippers. His gown. The breakfast nook. His room. And of course, the hammock.

It also didn’t help that you couldn’t get a job in LA, not that you needed one, Benny’s considerable estate made sure of that. But you just couldn’t stand being idle. Your old workplace didn’t have any vacancies, but your old colleague told you about a year-long job that could be available. It’s a ranch. Their regular vet had to attend to some family matters, and they needed someone to take over for a year. But this ranch was not like the quaint English farm you grew up in or worked at during your Uni days she said, if she remembered correctly from pictures from your Insta. And you had spent almost twenty years in LA. The Tetons during winter was… not quite the English winter you were used to growing up. So, it might be a bit of a challenge, but nothing you couldn’t handle, she said.

You said yes so quickly she laughed and gave you the number to call. “Talk to Tess. She manages the ranch. Tell her I gave you the number.”

And so you called, and Tess was very excited about you coming to fill in, even if you were rusty, having not worked for three years, and had only worked a handful of years before that. Basically you would be taking care of the horses and cows on the ranch, and a few dogs and the likes. The neighbours might call you up for help with their animals too, and they pay you extra for that.

You were worried, you won’t lie. A ranch. But hey, it’s just a year. And you had never lived anywhere that would get proper snow. It didn’t snow much where you grew up, so maybe this would be fun. One year. Good experience. And after that, who knew? Maybe you’ll go back to England. Or move to Asia. Benny had always wanted to do that. Maybe you’ll make his dream come true.

You had sold or donated everything in LA, bringing exactly ten boxes with you to Jackson, mostly books, and four suitcases – Benny’s prized LV ones. He had bought them with his first commission from his first sale at the gallery. You didn’t plan on going back to live in LA, anyway, so might as well make it easy for yourself – easier to bring as little as you can too, considering you were planning on leaving the country after the year was up. The boxes had been sent ahead, and Tess said that someone would be there at the airport to pick you up. Dress warmly, she had warned. And bring plenty of winterwear.

So, you lugged your four suitcases onto a trolley, and pushed. You scanned the arrival hall for your name, but there were none. You pushed the trolley towards the entrance, and when the door opened, you froze.

Literally.

It was fucking freezing.

Shit.

You wrapped your scarf around your neck tighter and kept pushing. You looked around, standing at the area Tess had asked you to wait at, not seeing anyone or any truck that matched the description and photo that Tess had sent you. Just as you were about to call Tess, an old-looking, battered red truck parked right in front of you. The driver took out his phone, looked at something on it, and then you, and got out.

“You Amelia?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“I’m Joel. Tess sent me.”

“Erm, she said someone called Tommy was picking me up. Not Joel.”

He looked annoyed. “Well, he can’t make it. Wife’s not feeling so good. I’m what you’ve got. Are you coming or not?”

You hesitated. This man looked grumpy. And you were not about to get into a truck with a grumpy stranger in a strange place where you knew exactly one person, and that was Tess, who was hundreds of miles away, apparently. You took your glove off your right hand, and dialled Tess’s number, holding a finger up to him. He threw his hands in the air before placing them on his hips, taking a deep, impatient breath, looking like he was about to implode.

You told Tess a Joel was here, claiming she sent him. She laughed and asked you to point the camera at him. Joel rolled his eyes at the camera. Tess told you yep, that’s the grumpy asshole who was going to pick you up. Tommy was supposed to, but his wife was not feeling too well. Sorry, she forgot to text you about it.

Joel started lugging your suitcases, tossing the first one into the back seat.

“Hey! Be careful! That’s my entire earthly possession right there!”

“Doubtful,” he said. “Ten boxes just arrived for you at the ranch. At least lie better.”

“Well, those suitcases mean a lot to me. Please be careful,” you begged. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘damn city girls’ under his breath, but he did at least place the rest carefully in the back seat. He closed the door and pushed the trolley towards the attendant.

You were feeling like a lost puppet. You didn’t know what to do. Stupid questions filled your brain. Do you get in the truck? Do you sit next to him? Do you take your very puffy jacket that wasn’t doing squat in fending off the cold off? Do you wait and shake his hand? What do you do? It was like your brain decided to stop working. You had just arrived, sleep deprived from the emotional night you had saying goodbye to your life in LA with Benny and how early you had to leave for the airport that morning, got ten minutes of sleep and was greeted by the North Pole and a very grumpy elf.

He came back to the truck and got in. You were still standing there. He opened the door back up and asked if he should open the fucking door for you, Princess? You were startled by his aggression. You went around and tried to open the door, but it was stuck. You pulled and pulled, and finally he gave it a push from the inside and the door flung open, pushing you onto your backside on the fucking freezing road, a passing car narrowly missing you by inches.

He just sat there, staring at you, his lips half curled with an amused smirk.

You got back up as quickly as you could, a bit disorientated from what just happened, and quickly tried to get in. But the truck was high, and you were used to small cars, and had so many layers on, and in your cotton-brained, ouchy-my-buttocks-hurt-like-a-mother state you had trouble climbing up, your petite frame not really helping. He scoffed a not so silent ‘Jesus, city girl’ before he offered his hand for you to take. You stared at him and hoisted yourself in, ignoring his hand.

You pulled the door shut, feeling dangerously close to tears, and avoided looking at him. He took his seatbelt off, scooted towards your side, reached across, opened the door back up and pulled it shut with a slam, the truck wobbling from the force. He buckled himself back up and sat there watching you trying to figure out the seatbelt, which was loose, and looked for the slot in the bench seat, the many layers you had on and the rustling of the puffy jacket getting in your way, your arms feeling stiff and the thick gloves making you less dexterous than you normally were. He impatiently took the seatbelt from you and locked it in, muttering under his breath as he did so before pulling out of the spot.

You glanced at your phone, it was 9 in the morning, you had been here not even an hour, and you were already on the verge of tears, feeling more unwelcomed than you ever did in your entire life. You took a deep breath, and tried again, asking him how long the drive to the ranch would be.

He turned the radio on and upped the volume in response.

You looked out the window, the heated interior of the truck feeling much colder than the cold city outside. You pulled the hoodie of your jacket on so he couldn’t see your face, and leaned on the window, tears silently trickling on your cheek.

What a first fifty minutes to the rest of your next year.

This was clearly a mistake.

---

Part 2

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: angst, culminating in murder

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— A/N: Following A Different Kind of Key, I got a prompt for breeding kink with Ominis. I decided to combine this with a fic idea I had included in a poll a few months ago, which was that Ominis kills his parents in revenge, and begins to appreciate the dark arts. I don't know yet how many chapters this will have, but get ready for a dark and manipulative Ominis, and smut 💕 Enjoy, my dears!

It wasn’t like Ominis to say Sebastian inspired him. But that was, in a strange twist of events, what ended up happening.

The day Solomon died changed everything between the four friends involved with it. Sebastian and Anne’s uncle was gone, Sebastian was the one who killed him and Anne was left distraught, their fifth-year-friend was there when it all happened, and Ominis was left feeling like the earth was pulled from underneath him, not knowing where he’ll land. During the following days, Anne buried Solomon and ran. He knew where she was, but was sworn to secrecy never to reveal it to anyone, particularly not to Sebastian. It was a difficult request, but Ominis expected it to be made easier by Sebastian’s inevitable indictment for murder, which was bound to come any day now — right?

Their friend, who even witnessed the murder, refused to turn him in. That left the weight of the choice to Ominis, but he was easily swayed. Why lose two friends when he’s already lost one? So he said nothing…

During the months that followed, the weight of all that happened hung over them like a sword, like a noose ready to drop, like a tipping avalanche. Yet nothing happened. They entered the sixth year, and then the seventh. Anne healed from the curse’s influence — it turned out that Rookwood was the real culprit — and Sebastian graduated from Hogwarts — with the commendations of all their professors — and it had almost escaped Ominis how surreal the whole thing was, but sometimes he reminded himself that Sebastian had gotten away with murder.

It was a struggle to push down just how impressed he was. Sebastian had gotten practically everything he wanted: Anne was cured, Solomon was out of the way in a permanent fashion, and their mutual friend, well, she was under Sebastian’s sway now as much as he was under hers. Complicity did that…

It wasn’t fair. His best friend had a brilliant career ahead of him in whatever field he chose, he had every opportunity now to look for his sister again, and his perfidious little friendship was blooming into a romance day by day — meanwhile, what did Ominis have to look forward to? A return to his parents’ clutches and some arranged incestuous marriage, no doubt.

It wasn’t fair. All his other classmates were cheerful to be done with school, optimistic, hopeful, happy. They had jobs and girlfriends and some were even due to marry. And Sebastian, disgustingly, behaved as if nothing had happened in fifth year, as if he wasn’t a murderer.

It wasn’t fair.

Ominis rode in the cabin with his two friends on the train back to London, where Sebastian was excited to go and apply for a position with Borgin and Burkes.

“You know you’d do better in the ministry…” their friend told him, the smile in her voice teasing but sweet.

“Funny,” chuckled Sebastian.

“You’re still afraid of them?” she goaded.

“I think they should be afraid of me,” said Sebastian quietly, leaning toward her over Ominis. “The score is still one-nill last I checked.”

“Yes, but they don’t know that,” she said, leaning toward him too so that they now hovered somewhere around Ominis’ chest.

“And I plan to keep it that way,” said Sebastian.

“Excuse me,” said Ominis, pretending not to know they were there and getting up briskly enough to knock them back.

“Omi—!”

“Hey, watch it!”

He grabbed his wand and went out of cabin, shutting the door behind him. He pretended to go to the restroom, and pretended to use it for the next 15 minutes, and pretended not to hold back tears of jealousy.

Things only got worse once he arrived home. His parents did not exactly welcome him with open arms, although he had excelled in his NEWTs and was among the best students of his year. No, they behaved as if he’d just been done with a silly distraction, that filthy school that took in mudbloods, and his filthy friends from lowborn families, and now his real life started, said his father, and the fun was over.

He lasted two weeks until he murdered them.

He considered doing it in their sleep, but he wanted them awake. It was the evening of the 17th of July, and it rained and hailed all throughout supper. Ominis pretended to retreat early for the night, leaving them all together in the dining room, tired and mellow with firewhisky.

The doors shut on their own as if by a gust of wind. The chandeliers and fireplace were frozen with a spell. And the dining room was plunged into utter darkness.

A decanter was knocked to the floor and his father was cursing, and his mother called out from the top of her lungs for the elves, but Ominis had sent them away. His sister was rambling something about the house being haunted. They were learning now what it was like for him, what it had always been like for him, although he didn’t imagine they could appreciate it. He cast off the disillusionment spell, he didn’t need it anymore, and summoned all their wands to him wordlessly. Disarmed and scared and in the dark, he picked them off one by one.

First, his sister. He surprised himself by not shaking at all as he did it. In fact, he had never been more calm — was this how Sebastian had felt?

Their mother became noticeably quiet when she saw the brief green light and heard a body fall, but it took a while until she found her, feeling around on the floor. She barely said her daughter’s name in anguish before Ominis killed her too.

His father was left, and by then he’d begun to suspect, calling his name and prowling through the pitch black in that lumbering way he did. Ominis allowed him to hear his footsteps coming closer.

“I know it’s you, you little rat,” spat Gaunt Senior, facing him but standing still. “I heard you say it.”

“And you’ll hear it again,” said Ominis coolly, “right before you drop dead.”

“If only your brother were h—”

“Avada kedavra.”

The flash of green enveloped his body as it collapsed to the floor, and then it was gone, and it was dark again.

Not that Ominis noticed a difference. All he knew now was quiet, and peace, and loneliness. He finally had a life work looking forward to.

The first order of business was to get rid of the bodies, which he accomplished by turning them into teacups and finding a place for them in the glass cabinet in the living room. Brushing his finger across one, he thought it felt different from normal porcelain — a bit more rough, less cold, like bone — but their shape and weight were otherwise quite perfect. He smiled as he put them away.

The next issue was what to do with his brother… Marvolo lived somewhere in London, and he had enough friends there already that his absence would be noted. And he would not come back to the Gaunt manor just because Ominis called. Even if he did, he’d inquire as to what happened to their parents.

Which brought him to the last and final point: how to explain their absence.

He spent the next hour packing their wands, their cloaks, a cauldron, a few ingredients, and a sacrificial dagger, and then he went off into the nearby woods. They sometimes went there to perform spells that called for incantations and ritual sacrifice of the local fauna, often not returning until morning, stinking of wet dirt and blood. He could say a spell went wrong, an animal attacked, and there was no trace left of them but a few less-than-savoury items.

It was quite a trek to make all on his own, even levitating the items behind him, which often snagged in the low branches and the weeds. When he thought he was far enough, he planted the cauldron in the middle of a clearing and stuck the dagger in the earth, scattering the other items all around in what might be a convincing pattern should anyone come look.

Morning found him in his bed, alone and dirty, but content.

Ominis smiled and turned on his back, and listened: quiet. No screaming, no fights, no one ordering him around, no threats of violence, no curses, nothing.

It took about twenty minutes for that to start to bother him.

His fingers toyed with the wand which rested on his stomach, and he thought about all the times he’d judged Sebastian for using the Unforgivables. A part of him still found it abhorrent, because Sebastian was never in such a situation as he had been with his family. However bad Solomon was, he wasn’t like the Gaunts. Meanwhile, another part whispered that he should feel ashamed.

“But I don’t,” he said to himself, speaking with nobody else to hear. “I’m not. I’m not sorry.”

And he wasn’t, for many days to come. When the house elves returned from the prolonged shopping trip Ominis had sent them on, he told him the same lie he had prepared — Mister Gaunt had gone with his family in the woods to perform a ritual but hadn’t yet returned, and Ominis was worried, oh but no need for the elves to go, they needed to tend to the house — and went through the coming days just as he normally would, and soon forgot he’d ever had a family at all. And yet the house seemed larger than before, and behind each corner he still suspected some malevolent force, within each sound a muttered curse or insult, and although he knew them to be safely dead, transfigured in the cabinet, he had moments in the night when he thought they had returned to take revenge.

It wore away at him, and he knew he had to resolve it with a change in circumstance: either he moved away, or he made the house livable again. He didn’t consider even for a second to write to his brother Marvolo, but he considered asking for Sebastian to visit together with their friend — until his thoughts settled strictly on her.

On a whim, he wrote to her, and her alone. The owl took a few days to return, and it brought to him a strangely mournful and yet exciting message.

Ominis had inquired about her health — she was well — and her search for work — not so well — and Sebastian.

“It pains me to say this,” she wrote, “but I do not know. Sebastian has been sent to recover something (I know not what) for Mr Burke. Part of his training, he said. As if he weren’t experienced enough in these sorts of things. I told him, as I’m sure you would have as well, that Mr Burke was only going to take advantage of him and gain a dangerous item at no personal cost, and is only using Sebastian’s goodwill and enthusiasm. He did not take it well and has yet to speak to me since. He said I called him ‘naive’, but I did nothing of the sort.”

Ominis chuckled as his wand vocalised the letter. It was blatant she did think Sebastian naive, just as it was blatantly true that he was.

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since, for various reasons,” she continued, “but I find my worries and upsets dwindle into something perhaps similar to what you felt at Hogwarts when Sebastian would get involved in these sort of reckless things — frustration.”

Ominis’ smile broadened. Her clear longing for Sebastian, her worry for his safety, her shameless affection, did not serve him — but frustration, he could work with. He picked up his dictation quill and a piece of parchment and sat down at his desk to write.

“My dear,” he started, “I am first of all happy to hear you are well and healthy, in spite of everything else seemingly falling apart around you. I am sorry, although not surprised, to hear about the novel way Sebastian has found to make a nuisance of himself. You have my full sympathies.

You have also, if you will not find it too forward, my invitation to join me at my parents’ mansion. I think it would be good for you. It is in a quiet and undisturbed area, close to London but surrounded by ancient woods. Without my family present, as they currently are — and we can discuss this too once you arrive — it is a most calming and comforting place, which sounds like just the sort of thing you need at present. You are welcome to stay for the remainder of the summer. It might help you find some balance in your life, perhaps even give you new energies to pursue employment — or other means of occupying yourself.

Please find the address enclosed.

Yours devotedly,

Ominis

P.S.: If indeed he does return in the interim, make no mention of this to Sebastian.”

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Ghoul/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 4,389 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

A new rock band is taking yoru city by storm, their identities hidden behind masks and personas. You seem to know the lead singer already.

The concert venue buzzed with energy. You stood with your friend, squeezed into the crowd, everyone around you eager and excited. The stage loomed ahead, hidden in shadows, promising something incredible. 

When the lights dimmed, the crowd gasped. Voices hushed, replaced by the thumping of your heart. You leaned forward, trying to see. Nocturne Eclipse—the band everyone was talking about. They were a mystery, hidden behind masks.

The first notes of the song cut through the darkness, sending chills down your spine. Lights flashed, revealing four figures in dark, gothic outfits. Their masks were eerie and beautiful. The lead singer drew your eyes. He moved gracefully, his voice powerful and haunting. 

“Welcome!” he shouted, voice crackling through the microphone. “Let’s have some noise, hmm? I hope everyone has a great night!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Beside you, Melanie tossed dark braids over her shoulder and gripped your arm, face grinning.

As the first song played, you felt it in your bones. You’d never been a fan of rock, but the deep thrum of the bass and the lead’s rough, scratching vocals itched at the back of your brain.

That voice tugged at something deep inside you, a distant memory. You’d heard that voice before; not at concerts, but in your own garage back in college. But that was impossible. Right? 

His mask slipped a bit; and before he could fix it, you caught a flash of a black neck tattoo. A giant hornet curling around his ear. 

Your breath caught. It was him.

Your friend nudged you, snapping you back to the present. You couldn’t look away from the stage. The band’s music was mesmerizing, the crowd swaying as one. For you, everything narrowed to that one familiar face.

The song ended in thunderous applause, but you barely noticed. Your heart raced. As the band started their next song, you pushed through the crowd, desperate to get closer.  Melanie called after you, but you didn't stop.

You reached the stage’s edge, a barrier separating you from the band. You watched, transfixed, as he sang. For a minute he stuttered, mask tilted down to look at you.

Security was tight, blocking your way, but you didn't care. You shouted his name, your voice lost in the noise. He was right there, so close. He looked at you for a moment longer than the rest.

Suddenly, strong hands gripped your arms, pulling you back. Security. 

"Hey! I know him!" you shouted, trying to break free, but firm hands curled around your arms and yanked you away.

The guard shook his head. "Everyone thinks they know the band. Calm down."

"No, you don't understand. I actually do know him!" you insisted, voice rising in desperation.

The guard's eyes narrowed. "You're crazy. Go home and sleep it off."

"I'm sober!" you protested, but he was already dragging you toward the exit.

Outside, the cool night air hit you. The guard released you with a final warning glance. You stood there, heart pounding, mind reeling.

Moments later, your friend darted out of the venue, eyes wide. "What the hell was that about?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "The lead singer... he has the same tattoos as Maddox."

"Maddox?" she repeated, brows furrowed.

"Yes. Maddox. My ex-boyfriend — who died in a car crash a week before graduation four years ago," you said, your voice breaking.

Her eyes widened, disbelief mingling with the realisation of what you were saying. The night air felt colder, the reality of your words sinking in. Maddox was alive, but something was terribly wrong.

Melanie sighed and said, “maybe we should go home.”

She guided you to her car, her touch grounding you as you both slipped into the seats. The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the silence between you. You stared out the window, trying to piece together the fragments of what you'd seen.

"I'm sorry for cutting the night short," you said finally, breaking the tension.

Melanie glanced over at you. "Don't worry about it. I'm just concerned. Maybe he just has a similar tattoo and you're... freaking out over nothing."

You shook your head, the memory of that night vivid. "I was with him when he got that tattoo. It was his twenty-first birthday. It was custom. I would know it anywhere."

Melanie didn't reply immediately, focusing on the road ahead. Soon, you reached your flat. The familiar surroundings should have brought comfort, but your mind was still racing. You both went inside, the warm lights of the living room casting a soft glow over everything. Melanie headed to the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it on the stove.

She made tea, the ritualistic clinking of cups and spoons soothing in its normalcy. You watched her, your mind still grappling with the impossible reality.

"Melanie," you began, your voice low, "what if Maddox is... like you?"

Melanie paused, looking up at you. Her expression was a mix of sympathy and seriousness. "Being a werewolf won't bring someone back from the dead."

You sipped your tea when she handed it to you, the warmth spreading through you, but it did little to ease the cold knot of fear and confusion in your chest. If Maddox wasn't a werewolf, then what was he? How was he alive after all this time? 

Melanie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry about it. It has to be a coincidence. It can't be Maddox."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself. "Yeah, you're right." You finished your tea, but as Melanie flipped through channels, settling on a light-hearted show, your mind kept drifting back. The tattoo could be a coincidence, but his voice? That was Maddox’s voice. You’d never heard the band live before and never made the connection, but hearing him in person… there was no doubt in your mind.

The evening wore on, and you listened to the TV drone. Melanie laughed at something on the screen, but you barely noticed. 

Finally, you sighed and stood up. "I'm going to bed," you said softly.

Melanie looked up, concern still evident in her eyes. "Alright. Try to get some rest."

You nodded and made your way to your bedroom. The familiar space felt strange tonight, the shadows seeming darker, the silence heavier. You changed into your pyjamas, the fabric soft against your skin, and climbed into bed. The hum of the TV in the living room was a faint comfort, a reminder that you weren't alone.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, the night's events playing over and over in your mind. Eventually, exhaustion pulled you under, and you drifted into a restless sleep, your dreams haunted by a voice you thought you'd never hear again.

***

The next morning, you woke to the sound of your phone buzzing. Groggily, you reached over to your nightstand, squinting at the screen. A missed call from an unknown number. Curiosity piqued, you played the voicemail.

Your heart nearly stopped. It was Maddox's voice, clear and unmistakable without the din of a concert hall. "I need to see you. Meet me at thirty-two Yarrow Street. Noon." The call ended abruptly, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief. You tried to call the number back, but it wouldn’t go through. It was as if he had called and then immediately blocked your number.

You sat on the edge of your bed, trying to process. It was silly, maybe even dangerous, but you had to know the truth. You scribbled a quick note for Melanie, explaining you had to step out and would be back later. You left it on the kitchen table, hoping she’d see it soon.

Grabbing your keys, you headed out, the address looping in your mind. You plugged it into your sat nav, and it led you through winding streets and unfamiliar neighbourhoods. Your mind raced with every turn, each passing moment bringing you closer to answers—or more questions.

Eventually, you found yourself in front of an old warehouse. The building loomed large and foreboding, its windows darkened, its structure showing signs of age and neglect. You parked the car and sat for a moment, staring at the imposing facade.

You stepped out of the car, the cool morning air hitting your face as you stared at the old warehouse. The building's structure seemed out of place, a relic of the past nestled in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you, but curiosity and a desperate need for answers propelled you forward.

The warehouse door creaked as you pushed it open. To your surprise, it wasn't locked. You stepped inside, your footsteps echoing in the vast, dimly lit space. As your eyes adjusted to the gloom, you took in the surroundings. The interior had been transformed into a makeshift home. 

There was a living area with mismatched furniture, a battered sofa, and a low coffee table cluttered with empty bottles and crumpled papers. A messy kitchenette occupied one corner, dishes piled high in the sink, and a faint smell of toast and jam lingered in the air. It was run-down, far from the glamorous lifestyle you’d expect from a new, popular band.

As you ventured further inside, you caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of your eye. Your heart pounded in your chest as a figure emerged from the shadows, clad in a hoodie that obscured his face. He paused.

"Hi," the man said, his voice soft and familiar. 

Your breath caught in your throat. There was no mistaking it. It was Maddox. Despite the hoodie concealing his face, you knew it was him. He seemed different, shy and hesitant, nothing like the confident, enigmatic figure you’d seen on stage.

"Maddox?" you whispered, taking a tentative step forward.

"Where are we? How are you alive?" you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and hope. "What happened to you?"

Your questions tumbled out, one after another, your mind racing to make sense of the impossible. Maddox stood there, his expression pained but resolute. Instead of answering, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. 

The hug was unexpected, and for a moment, you stiffened in shock. Then the familiarity of his embrace washed over you, and you melted into him. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the feeling of being held by him once more. 

You closed your eyes, trying to hold onto the sensation, the reality of his presence grounding you in the here and now. The questions still swirled in your mind, demanding answers, but for this moment, you let them fade away. 

His hold on you tightened slightly, and you felt the subtle tremor in his hands. 

"I have answers," he said softly, “but can we just stay like this a bit longer?"

You nodded, hugging him tighter. His embrace was comforting yet strange. Maddox had always been a bigger guy, a regular at the gym with a solid build. Now, he felt too thin. The broad shoulders were the same, but you could feel his ribs through the fabric of the hoodie. It sent a chill down your spine.

When you finally pulled away, you caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath the hood. They were deep set and black, so different to the bright, warm hazel eyes you remembered. The sight made your heart ache as you pulled away.

Maddox guided you to the makeshift living area and sat you down on the worn sofa. He sat next to you, his posture tense, hands clasped together tightly. He seemed nervous, a far cry from the confident, vibrant man you once knew. 

"I'm sorry," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never meant to leave you... but I had to, for your own safety."

Your heart pounded in your chest. He took a deep breath, the words seeming to cost him more than you could imagine.

"Four years ago, I died," he said, the statement hanging heavy in the air. "You know that, obviouslyI don't remember much from the accident itself, just that everything went black. Then... I woke up in the morgue. I scared the owner half to death when I came back on the table."

Your mind struggled to process his words. It was surreal, like a nightmare you couldn't wake from. Maddox's eyes searched yours, desperate for understanding.

"I don't know how I came back," he continued, his voice breaking slightly. "All I know is that I did. I wasn't the same. I’m... different now. It took me a while to figure out what that meant."

He paused, looking away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I found others like me. The band... we're all like this, more or less. We’re a family now. It's the only way we've survived, by sticking together."

The room seemed to close in around you, the weight of his confession pressing down like a physical force. You reached out, placing a hand on his knee, grounding yourself in reality.

"What happened to you?" you asked, your voice trembling. "How did you become... this?"

Maddox shook his head slowly. "I don't have all the answers. I wish I did. All I know is that I died and came back. The others—my bandmates—they have similar stories. We don't know why or how, but we're trying to make the best of it."

You looked at him, seeing the pain and confusion etched into his features. It was clear that he had been through hell and back, and the journey had left scars deeper than the physical.

"I missed you," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Every day, I missed you."

Maddox reached out, taking your hand in his. "I missed you too. Every single day. I think about you all the time, the things I would have done differently if I’d known this would happen.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, the emotional floodgates breaking. The pain of his loss, the confusion of his return, and the fear of what it all meant—it was overwhelming.

He squeezed your hand, his touch a lifeline in the storm of emotions. "I know it's a lot to take in," he said softly. "I’m sorry. Would it have been better if you never knew?"

You shook your head, squeezing his hand in return. “No, God no. I’m glad I know the truth.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was cold. "Can I see you?" you asked, your voice trembling with both fear and determination.

Maddox hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty in his dark eyes. "I don’t look like I used to," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t even look human."

You nodded, your resolve unwavering. "I want to see you."

Slowly, he reached up and pulled back the hood. His black hair fell across his face, streaked with pure white. He was thin, almost gaunt, with sunken eyes. They were entirely black, save for a faint blueish glow in the center.

He looked at you nervously, waiting for your reaction. You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the fear of rejection. Instead of recoiling, you felt a surge of desire—love, longing.

Without thinking, you lurched forward and kissed him. The contact was electric, sending a jolt through your entire body. His lips were cool against yours, but you didn’t carel. You poured everything into that kiss—the years of pain, the longing, the relief at finding him again.

Maddox’s initial shock melted away as he responded, his hands moving to cradle your face. He kissed you back with a hunger that mirrored your own, a deep, aching need. The world around you faded, leaving only the two of you, lost in the moment.

Your heart pounded in your chest. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if afraid you might disappear again. You could feel his desperation, his need to hold onto this moment, to make up for lost time.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the now unfamiliar contours of his body. It didn’t matter. He was still Maddox, still the man you loved.

When you finally pulled away. Only you were breathless. Did Maddox even need to breathe?

You stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of the man you once knew. Despite the changes, despite the inhuman features, the essence of Maddox was still there.

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief, of joy. "I don’t care what you look like," you whispered, your voice breaking. "You’re still you."

Maddox’s eyes softened, a small, grateful smile playing on his lips. "I’ve missed you so much," he murmured.

You hugged him tightly, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. 

You kissed him again, slower this time, savouring the moment. You slung a leg over his, tugging him close, and rested your head against his shoulder. 

He held you tightly, his touch both familiar and foreign. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "For my cold skin, for being... well, this."

You lifted your head to look at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I like it," you replied sincerely. "This new you has its own charm. Besides, you're still Maddox. That's all that matters."

He looked at you with those gorgeous dark eyes, then pulled you even closer. You buried yourself into his side, feeling his steady, if slightly abnormal, heartbeat. 

"It's funny," you said, your voice muffled against his chest. "You were right in front of me this whole time. The band is one of Melanie's favourites. I mean, she loves Embers too — but you’re definitely top three."

Maddox chuckled, a sound that was both familiar and comforting. "Yeah, I’ve been keeping an eye on you from a distance."

You looked up at him, seeing a hint of the old Maddox in his expression. The tension in his features seemed to ease, replaced by a sense of tentative happiness.

He sighed, a contented sound, and kissed the top of your head. "It's been so long since I've felt anything close to normal," he admitted. "Being here with you... it feels like coming home."

You smiled, nuzzling deeper into his embrace. "It feels like home to me too."

You nestled closer to Maddox, your head resting against his chest as you watched him from the corner of your eye. The changes were undeniable. His teeth seemed sharper, peeking out slightly when he spoke. His fingers were longer, more slender, giving his hands an almost skeletal appearance. There was a subtle wrongness to his features, a hint of something not right.

You found yourself strangely drawn to these changes for reasons you couldn’t place. They were a part of him now, a part of the new Maddox. Despite his worries, you didn’t find it gross or repulsive. He was still as beautiful as you remembered.

He shifted slightly, his arms tightening around you, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I know I look... different," he said, his voice hesitant. "You don’t have to sit so close if you don’t want to."

You looked up at him, your gaze steady. "I don’t mind," you insisted softly. "It's different, sure, but it's still you. I love you, Maddox, no matter what you look like."

He sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're something else, you know that?"

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Can I meet the rest of the band?" you asked, curious about the people who had become his new family. "I want to know everything about your life now."

Maddox hesitated, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Maybe," he said slowly. "Beneath the masks and the band getup, some of them look... way worse than I do.."

You shook your head, undeterred. "I don’t think I care," you said firmly. "If they’re your family, then I want to meet them. I want to understand your world."

He studied you for a moment, searching your face for any sign of doubt. When he found none, his expression softened. "Alright," he agreed quietly. "It might take a while for them to warm up to you."

You nodded, understanding the caution. "I’ll take my time," you promised. "I just want to be a part of your life again, Maddox. All of it."

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I want you to be," he whispered. "More than anything."

Maddox pulled out his phone, typing quickly. You watched him, the familiar lines of concentration etched into his face as he messaged the group. Moments later, his phone buzzed with a response. He read it, his expression shifting slightly.

"Jaehyun isn't thrilled about me telling you," he said, glancing at you. "Though they'll meet with you if I insist."

You grinned. “Great, I can’t wait.”

***

A few days later, the moment finally arrived. You sat with Maddox on the worn sofa, curled together for comfort. Maddox’s arm was draped around your shoulders, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your arm.

"It’ll be okay," he murmured, sensing your anxiety. "They’re cautious, but they’ll come around."

You nodded, taking a deep breath. The seconds ticked by slowly until a soft knock echoed through the warehouse. Maddox squeezed your shoulder before standing to open the door. Jaehyun stepped inside, his presence imposing even in the dim light.

Jaehyun removed his mask slowly; he was even more gaunt than Maddox, eyes sunken and pale. His skin was grey and withered, pulled too tightly across jutting cheekbones. 

He was an unsettling sight, but you kept your expression steady, determined not to show your nerves.

"Jaehyun," Maddox greeted, motioning him inside. "This is her."

Jaehyun stepped forward, his eyes scanning you critically. For a moment, you wondered if this was a test, a challenge to see if you could handle the reality of their world. He held out a hand, skeletal fingers extended in a gesture of introduction.

You took his hand without hesitation, shaking it firmly. His grip was cool and surprisingly strong. "Nice to meet you," you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart.

Jaehyun studied you for a moment longer before his tense expression softened. "It's nice to meet you too," he replied, his voice surprisingly gentle for someone with such a daunting appearance.

Relief washed over you as the initial tension dissipated. Maddox returned to your side, pulling you back into his embrace. Jaehyun took a seat across from you, still observing but with a hint of curiosity rather than suspicion.

The three of you sat in silence for a moment, the atmosphere slowly easing. Jaehyun's acceptance was the first step, and you could feel the barriers beginning to lower. 

"You know," Jaehyun said, breaking the silence, "Maddox talks about you a lot. Always going on about how he wished he could speak to you again. I’m glad he had the chance.”

You smiled, the warmth of his words helping to dispel your lingering nerves. "I'm glad, too. I’m sorry if… if me insisting on meeting you guys is annoying or anything.”

“It’s fine, you seem like the good sort. Stick around long enough, and you’ll see we’re not so bad. Just a bit... different."

The tension in the room eased further as Jaehyun relaxed, leaning back in his seat. You glanced at Maddox, and he squeezed your shoulder.

The door creaked open, and the last member of the band entered. They moved with a quiet, almost hesitant step, immediately drawing your attention. This newcomer, who must have been the drummer, was markedly different from the others. Their face was a gaunt landscape of heavy scarring, the skin tight and withered. Their arms were exposed, revealing a more gruesome sight—several fingers were missing, and the ones that remained were elongated and claw-like.

Juni’s eyes didn’t meet yours. Instead they flicked around the room before landing on you only briefly. They seemed to shrink back slightly, clearly uncomfortable and unsure.

Maddox stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Juni’s shoulder, and gently guided them into the room.

"This is Juni," Maddox introduced softly.

Juni shrugged off Maddox’s touch and wandered over to linger behind Sloane, their posture tense. The contrast between their somber presence and Sloane’s vibrant energy was striking.

You took a deep breath and offered a tentative smile. "Hello," you managed, your voice steady despite your own nerves.

Juni’s gaze met yours for a fleeting moment before they looked away, giving a slight nod in acknowledgment. 

Sloane chimed in with a cheerful tone. "Don’t mind Juni, they’re just a bit shy," he said, his grin wide. "Trust me though, they’re the best drummer you’ll ever hear."

Juni’s lips curled into a small, appreciative smile, though they remained close to Sloane, still wary. You could see the effort it took for them to be here.

Maddox returned to your side, pulling you close. His lips brushed against yours in a brief, tender kiss. His breath tickled against your skin and you smiled.

"Get a room, you two," Sloane teased, a wide grin spreading across his face.

Maddox rolled his eyes but smiled, his hand squeezing yours. "Now that you’ve met everyone, what do you think?" he asked, his eyes searching yours. The room grew quiet, all eyes on you, waiting for your response.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, glancing around at the faces before you. Jaehyun, eerie eyes boring into yours; Sloane, so welcoming; and Juni, nervous but undeniably gentle. They were an unusual group, but somehow they all just fit together.

"I'm glad you found a family like this, Maddox," you said finally, your voice steady and sincere. "People who understand you, who you can rely on. If you’re all willing, I’d like to be a part of it too."

Sloane's face lit up with delight. "Hell yeah!" he exclaimed.

Maddox’s eyes softened, and he pulled you in for another kiss. He cupped your cheek, put everything into that kiss and it left you reeling. 

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were grinning.

"Welcome to the family.”

[takes1]

Hi!!! I saw the Osamu x Reader post and as a Suna girlie it breaks my heart just a lil for Suna (very good stuff for Osamu and Reader tho, that was divine) but I was wondering maybe a slight part 2 for this where Suna gets his own happy ending? I say slight part 2 cuz Suna still has his heartbreak from the Osamu story but ends up with a different reader, perhaps? In my head it was Reader's relative who's much more of his type (relative part for slight drama, iykyk) but I'll leave that up to you!! For NSFW I'll also leave that up to you!! If that's not your cup of tea, you can ignore this ask, thanks a lot!!

hi!! thank you!! i def tried to take this in a slightly diff direction, just bc i was a little confused, but i kept the themes the same and the general prompt true to form! i hope this is alright! thanks for the request!!

warnings. sfw, alcohol consumption

info. angsty / hurt/comfort / timeskip!suna / very sad!suna / heartbreak!suna / previous relationship / suna not getting over breakup / misunderstandings / miscommunication / suna checking you out / happy ending / implied needy!suna / __ words

haikyuu collection. more here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

"Old-fashioned. Please," The man beside you was quiet. Raspy, in a young way, but carried an age's worth of reservation in what were so few words.

He was wearing a nice, linen shirt. Orange and yellow danced off of his Harry Winston watch, but it didn't compare to the glint in his eye as he turned to look at your equally classy style.

The name that breezed off of your lips a little too easy.

"Rintarou?"

Other voices from around the rest of the bar fell away. White noise to you- a loud, gray static to him.

His fingers felt ice cold despite not nursing a drink, a decision he regretted not partaking in sooner with the rest of his team, now.

The knot in his throat kept him from responding.

"Wanna start a tap?" The bartender slid his drink towards him. He eyed you when Suna didn't take it right away.

A brief glance between this tense scene was all it took to understand.

He offered his card between two fingers and took the seat next to you without a word.

"This isn't going to work out."

Three years. So many victories, so many trials-- gone. You swore up and down you never felt anything, even after you watched him break down into tears for an hour.

Your passive stare, completely impartial to whether he lived or died, was all the solace he got.

He must've cried for days. He almost didn't show up for graduation.

The twins thought he died.

Suna held an empty stare forward at the glossy counter- fingers circling the mouth of his glass, sometimes twirling it.

Drowning in vat of ice-cold water would be a warmer feeling than this eternal torture.

The memory of you walking out of the gym, holding yourself because you knew what you were doing, and now you had nobody to comfort you for your cruelty.

A shaky sigh fogged the cool glass on his bottom lip before he took a necessary sip.

Something kind, finally.

The heat that crawled down his throat eased your next words enough for him to bare through it.

"What are you doing here?"

Your sad attempt at trying to make conversation set him off.

His nose scrunched with the effort it took to try to pull himself together. Just your voice dragged him so far back into that deep, never ending spiral of insecurity and uncertainty.

His similarly-dressed team taking up space and sound on the other side of the bar was the first thing anyone was bound to notice. After winning a game, they usually went out for drinks- but just like every other time he was dragged along, he found himself not having as much fun as he ought to.

He grew weary of their energy and insistence that he get a girlfriend to cheer him up.

This quiet separation from the pack, his sulky demeanor, and the pain he wore on his brow was evident to even the bartender. He knew you could see it and hated himself for it.

"Celebrating," His voice was so quiet it took you seconds after to completely register it.

Watchful eyes waited for your expression to shift. It made you as uncomfortable as he wanted, but he couldn't keep the fortitude to enjoy it. He opted for his glass in time to watch his ice cube drop, shift in his drink. It looked fuller, now.

He brought the bitter thing up to his lips and handled it astoundingly well.

Your pretty eyelashes looked prettier when you looked away from him. Longer and fuller when you weren't facing him. That flawless makeup, caressed by the soft, warm light of the bar must've taken you hours.

You were different. He tried not to notice.

"How have you been?"

It wasn't an apology. His fingers slipped on the gathered condensation and he hesitated to take another sip so soon.

"Busy," He looked at your glittery shoulder when you faced him again, "You?"

There were a few moments of silence that he didn't notice. His low-lidded study of your little dress was soothing the burn in the back of his throat, a painful mix from needing to cry and the strength of his drink.

Part of him was relieved you hadn't let yourself go. You were a divine gift that any man would be glad to have, and his opinion, should be willing to break himself over.

The dress honored his useless devotion well.

Part of him would never forgive you for not throwing yourself into a pit of despair for your heartless words. His eyes hardened at once, now at the curve of your thighs that stayed crossed under the bar.

"Can you look at me?"

When his eyes shot up to meet yours, it felt like you were staring down a wounded animal.

The full weight of your decision dawned on you and you realized, all at once, that you had been wrong for years.

You hadn't spared him the way you convinced yourself that you had.

Something reminiscent of fear flashed across your face. He left you to think and chugged the rest of his whiskey. His ice clinked in the glass when he set it down and flagged the bartender.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Slipped out, a little too early, as you both watched the glass refill with golden-brown color.

He squinted down and you were grateful it wasn't a look directed straight at you.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," He snapped as soon as your company left.

With more time spent sitting next you, basking in your presence for the first time in so long, and his inhibition slowly fading, he felt himself start to get belligerent.

"I was-," You sighed, trying to control the frustration in your voice because you knew it wouldn't help, "I was trying to give you more options."

It was quiet for a long minute.

The hateful stare he kept on his own hand told you he was not convinced.

"I knew it would be tough on us, with you travelling for the team."

A tough brow softened, just a little. His thumb slid against the rim of the glass, thoughtful, about a better time. When he had something else to look forward to other than practice, or games.

"I didn't wanna put you through that. I didn't want- to make you choose."

His life was empty beyond the court. He couldn't imagine any scenario that would've played out to be worse than this. His face stung when he spared a sideways glance at your pretty face.

"So you chose for me," He rolled his cloudy eyes.

His words were like acid.

You couldn't swallow the lump in your throat. You turned from him, angry that he wasn't doing well, guilty that it had to do with something you thought was a good decision.

A big breath through your nose.

"And I'm sorry," You bit the inside of your cheek when he froze, "I really can't express how sorry I am."

The apology wasn't something he could rationalize as anything other than genuine, and heartfelt.

Confusion ran through him, made much worse by his buzz-- his eyes burned and he furiously wiped one eye. He had convinced himself you were secretly an emotionless, terrible person for doing that to him. The fact that you could possibly atone for it made him wildly uncomfortable.

His chair scraped when he pushed himself up to stand and face you. He kept one arm on the bar.

"I wanted to make it work!"

His version of loud was by no means actually loud, but it still startled you.

"And- you didn't," He was already back to a soft mutter, but it was wobbly when he kept talking, "I don't know what else I could've done, to be enough for you."

"You were enough," You instantly argued, "I just-,"

Another frustrated, teary sigh, "I didn't think I was."

It must've been muscle memory. Suna didn't realize he was wiping a tear from your face until his hand was already back down by his side.

He hated seeing you cry so much that it trumped his own lingering, maladaptive thoughts. Especially when you looked so good.

Your small, sad smile at his chivalry eased the weight in his chest.

He felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

"You were everything to me," You admitted.

He had to take his seat at that. Closer, this time.

masterlist.

requests open.

[baiabay]

No Role Modelz (ATSV Black Cat Variant! Reader Insert)

Chapter 1: Scaredy-Cat

Prologue

Chapter 1: Current Chapter

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

^^links 2 chapters!! this story is also on ao3, wattpad, and quotev under the same name ! <33

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

A/N: Spot is here!!

 Hey all! Okay so first things first thank you so much for all the support of the last chapter! It honestly means alot given that ive never written before lol. Alsoooo sorry for the radio-silence after the last release, i just graduated highschool! So yay for me :) also means that ill have much more time to write since its summer break for me now. Lastly,sorry if this chapter seemed kinda slow, I wanted to try to incorporate what this universes’ Felicia Hardys “canon events”(or what would be of her canon events) would look like in this chapter to set up a bit of backstory, as someone who doesn’t read the comics nor play the games, pls forgive any inaccuracies in Felicias lore as I am only going based off of wikipedia (plus in this story reader is a minor so I wanted to exclude the nsfw trauma that Felicia goes through in og story) I also wanted to find out a way how to integrate reader into the main plot which is why i decided to feature Spot in this chapter :D thanks again for the support and don’t forget that this chapter along with any future ones will be posted to ao3/tumblr under the same title!

P.S. Much more Spider-Miles/Black Cat interactions next chapter!!

Word Count: 1844

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You remembered it like it was yesterday.

Seven months ago, Brooklyn, New York.

Your father - The Black Cat’s face on every screen in the country, but most importantly yours.

BREAKING NEWS: WORLD-RENOWNED CAT BURGLAR CAUGHT IN THE ACT : IDENTITY SHOCKS THE NATION

…huh?

LIVE ON THE SCENE: ‘BLACK CAT’ REVEALED TO BE MULTI MILLIONAIRE WALTER HARDY AFTER RUN-IN WITH SPIDER-MAN

…no, this-

THIS JUST IN: CAT BURGLAR WALTER HARDY PRESUMED DEAD AT HEIST SCENE - POSSESSIONS TO BE TURNED IN TO OFFICIALS

This can’t be happening.

It was all too much at once. 

He never kept it secret from you. You knew about your father’s job.

You knew all about what he did. The planning, the heists, the reselling, he had done it for years. And you knew all about it.  But he had been doing this for years. Long enough to allow your family to live very comfortably. Long enough that you believed he would never be caught.

But yet there you were, all that you knew burned to the ground in a matter of minutes.

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Frantically packing everything you could into any bag you could find; clothes, money, pictures, weapons, anything - before they could take it away from you. 

And when they did, it was brutal. 

Live-streamed news coverage of men raiding your home, rummaging through your stuff- your father’s stuff- as if he never existed. 

Soon enough there were auctions. Bids, worth millions, on your father’s items, broadcasted across the nation, with drinks and music and finger foods - they made a fucking sport out of it. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday, the cheers in the street after the big-bad-black-cat was pronounced dead. The endless praise Spider-man received, that of which he took with a smile on his face. You had wished you could kill him.

You remembered it like it was yesterday, the day Peter Parker died.

You laughed.

.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .  

Seven months later, Brooklyn, New York.

Ugh.

Muscles aching, you stretched up in your bed, and groaned. Ruffling the bedhead out of your hair, you reluctantly trudged out of your mattress to open a window. Coincidentally, one of your many cats was perched perfectly on its sill, wide-eyed and tail flicking in your direction.

“...This whole heist stuff is really catching up to me, huh?”

The cat stared. You sighed. You really had to get yourself some friends.

Ever since your fathers passing, you’ve basically been on your own. Shortly after all his (and your) possessions were seized, you hopped around until you managed to find shelter in a shitty apartment on the west side of town. You, fueled purely by spite (with a tasteful teeny tiny dash of vengeance on the side), inherited the criminal persona of your father, along with his criminal tendencies, and took upon yourself the name of The Black Cat. 

All this time you’ve managed to keep your identity completely secret, not even your resellers knew who you were. That came with one major drawback though… you were extremely lonely.

Even with your frequent charity rounds around the community, noone really knew who you were. Even though Black Cat was nonviolent, the name was widely feared seemingly everywhere you went. Even with your days at school, the school you’ve been going to for months now, you made your way around the halls unnoticed. 

Speaking of school, you were late. 

Shit. 

Spending ample time dazing out your window, you’ve completely lost track of time. You disregarded your hair and rushed to pull on your uniform. Stumbling around your complex you hastily dumped too large of a portion of cat food into the automatic feeder, something you’re sure the cats will be grateful for. Shoving a few snacks into your bag, you simultaneously shuffled into your school shoes, proceeding to dash out the door. 

Sprinting down the stairs, nearly tripping once, twice, you whipped out your phone to check when the next bus route would arrive. 35 minutes.

Shitshitshit.

You paused, still in the stairwell, before turning to sprint in the opposite direction, towards the rooftop terrace. Creaking open the door, you checked to make sure noone else was up there before making your way towards the edge of the terrace. To anyone else but you, it would look like a young student was about to make an unfortunate decision and jump. And jump you did. 

You fell for a few seconds, relishing in the way your stomach dropped. You’d never get tired of that feeling. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. Pulling and releasing, you quickly fell into a swinging pattern, towards Brooklyn Visions. 

Hidden from the eyes of civilians, you swung yourself through the shadows. Everyone looked so small from up there, and for a brief second, you found power in your lonesome. In the corner of your eye you noticed what seemed to be a lanky white figure clumsily flying through the air. (You paid it no mind).

Dropping down into a dark alleyway much closer to campus, you continued your mad dash towards the main entrance. Winded, you finally made your way inside the building, a thin layer of sweat shined on your forehead. The hallways were empty, class must be in session. You took a few steps forward, making your way towards your classroom until being knocked over by a student, very evidently in a hurry. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean to-I’m just in a rush, I didn’t mean…”

The boy reached out his hand to help you up.

“Hey, it's no problem, I get it.”

You smiled, and took your hand in his. He hesitated for a moment, staring, brows furrowed at your now interlocked hands, before nodding and continuing his sprint down the hallways. 

You took in his disheveled appearance, his wonky tie, his half-tucked shirt, untied laces, dark eyes, curly hair, brown skin, sweaty palms…

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted with the shrill ringing of the school bell. Suddenly, the hallways flooded with students rushing towards their next classes, you decided to follow suit. 

On the other side of the hallway, Miles Morales lingered on how his spidey-sense flashed alarms in his head when his hand touched yours. Every nerve in his system telling him to run, fight, dodge, anything to get away from you-he couldn't put his finger on why. (He paid it no mind). Blaming it on nerves, Miles shoved his way through the packed hallways, dreading the meeting waiting for him in the guidance counselor's office. 

.    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    .    

School was a bust, as always. Nothing new, you made your way through the rest of the day unnoticed. As always. But you didn’t have time to think about that right now.

At the moment, you were in the middle of going through numerous number-codes on a padlock blocking the vault door to an extremely expensive gemstone. You’ve been salivating over this stone for weeks now, planning out how and when exactly you would strike to get this thing in your hands. You could see it now, the headlines, the chaos, after some rando millionaire’s little rock was taken from him…

“Woah, hey, you’re new!”

You flinched, hard. Whipping around towards the source of this unusually chipper voice. You were met with… a cow? … Man?

You stared, hard. 

“Okay, hey. The ogling isn’t necessary… I just-”

The cowman’s sentence was cut short with a quick lash of your whip, that of which he caught…? Your whip seemed to phase right through a large black hole on his torso, the opposite end appearing in a similar black hole right behind you, the whips end striking your back. You cried out, hit with the full force of your lash.

Sinister giggles emerged from the spotted figure, pointed towards your pained form. You trembled, in shock. 

“It’s rude to interrupt.” 

Spot stepped slowly towards you, his…well, spots, whirring aggressively, pointedly. You were frozen on the ground. Staring up at him, your lips trembled open.

“What,” You coughed. Once, twice. “-what are you?”

The black and white figure straightened, only to then fold over into a dramatic, hilariously unthreatening pose. 

“You, can call me… The Sp-”

“Some sort of cow?” You snickered. It was now his turn to flinch, hard. 

“I am NOT a-” The cow cleared his throat. “I am not a cow…whydoeseveryonesaythat…I, am the most dangerous villain you’ve ever seen, The Spo-”

“I mean, what’s with that getup?” The grin on your face grew. “Is that… is that supposed to be a costume? Orrrr…” 

The Spot sighed, defeated. “...it’s skin.”

“It’s skin?” 

“Yes, yes, now I-”

You stood up, energy back and eyes crinkled. 

“Wow, that’s…hm, interesting…skin, that’s skin? Sorry, sorry-listen man, I uh, I really gotta get back to this, so if you don’t mind?”

Stepping backwards in offence, the spotted figure shook in anger before swinging out his arm, releasing numerous dark voids around the room. Hitting practically every surface, but one most importantly, landing on the vault door, separating you, from your stone.

“Ah-wait-”

Swiftly, The Spot weaved his way through his holes, limbs popping up and out around the room in a way you couldn’t even begin to reach for your whip. 

No way was he about to take it from you.

But take it, he did.

In what felt like seconds, the whole room was engulfed in black. Stumbling backwards, you fell through one of the voids, flailing ungracefully, swimming through nothing. 

It was hard to breathe. 

A shrill crackling terrorized your ears, and before you, appeared a very disheveled Spot, now fully black with white spots, facial dot whirring and trained on you.

Gem in hand. 

Panic.

You were panicking. The sound of blood thrummed in your ears as you squirmed around in nothingness. Fuck the rock, you just had to get out of here. 

A cold hand grabs your wrist, dragging you upwards, towards the crackling form. 

For the second time today, you were frozen.

“I am not a cow,”

The form spoke lowly.

“I am not some villain of the week”,

Frozen still, you did nothing but stare straight into his glare.

“I. Am. The Spot”.

Suddenly, you were dropped. For the second time today, your stomach dropped with you. Next thing you know you’re falling through another void, leading not into darkness, but through the city skyline. Seeing the ground get closer, you released your grappling hook and latched onto the nearest building. 

As soon as your feet reached a solid surface, your legs buckled. Heaving, you failed to process what just took place, heart pounding in your ears. 

“...the fuck was that?”

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   

Miles received word of commotion taking place downtown, something to do with spots. He had hoped it wasn’t what he thought it was, and it was. It was, and was so much worse. 

Dark spots littered a large manor, maniacal cackling emerging from its center. In the corner of his eye a familiar masked figure hunched over, breathing rapidly, staring straight ahead at the mess of spots.

(He paid it some mind.)

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

Ppl that asked me to tag them!(thxx 4 the support!)

@nightshxdex

@itszzmoon

@blackcat-kittyblogs

@vxxxb

<3

[dwncams]

JUDAS’ KISS

SUMMARY - you and ethan find yourselves stuck in the middle of the blackmoore university murders 

WARNINGS - strong language , mentions of being stabbed, blood, use of y/n (yuck i know)

PAIRINGS - gn!reader x ethan landry

WORD COUNT - 2k (damn)

AUTHORS NOTE - i hate this so much. so sorry for the rushed ending i honestly didn’t know what else to do.. anyways first fic back!!! woo we cheered 

MASTERLISTS

he knew he had to do it. to avenge his brother that sam killed. to go along with the plan. he knew that he couldn’t fight it. he knew had to be on the same train as you when you were killed by his sister. and every second of it hurt him.

-

you were terrified to say the least.

with anika and quinn dying, and all of the murders happening at your school because you just had to be in the same literature class as tara, you had a lot of reasons to be terrified.

one being that mindy had you and ethan at the top of her prime suspects list because neither of you were there when anika and quinn died. it was extremely surprising to hear coming from her. well, not really. she was a horror movie fanatic everyone knew it. and she lived through one last year, so what’s stopping her from blaming anyone?

two being that you and your friends are being tracked down by lame sickos who idolized actual serial killers and won’t stop at anything to finish what stu and billy started. the theories, the press, the reddit community pages that are filled with pictures and information about you. you barely even felt safe in your own dorm anymore.

three being that you have a boyfriend during the whole situation. ethan was amazing. both of you were apart of the same friend group, so you were hanging out basically every day. you and ethan met through chad, who you met from tara. he was very dorky to be frank and 100% and could marry his movie collection if he could, but being in a relationship during the times of all of the blackwood murders? not good.

which brings this back to the two of you being at the top of mindy’s suspect list. fortunately, you both had econ together to keep each other company. you had finals soon, so the gang should understand if you two ditched the sleepover, right?

wrong.

you decided to crash at ethan and chads apartment after class since chad was at the sleepover, studying for your econ final and donnie darko on the tv as background noise. you were sat on the floor, legs tucked underneath the low coffee table with your laptop, books, and notebook on top. ethan was on the couch, legs sprawled out and his laptop on his lap.

“what is.. the definition of the word equilibrium?” you ask ethan, your fingers typing over the keyboard on your laptop and eyebrows furrowed, deeply concentrated in the work.

“its uh, when the economic forces are balanced. like, when the supply and demand for a product are the same and the both equilibrium curves intersect.”

a ding echoes from both of your phones. it’s not important, probably just people texting in the group chat. you copy down the definition ethan gave you into yours notes, yawning softly.

“tired?” he says, shutting his laptop and sitting up right on the couch, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. you nod, closing the lid on your laptop and standing up. you walk over to ethan and sit next to him, resting your head on his lap.

ethan’s hands delicately play with your hair, his eyes fixated on the screen where the movie you’ve watched together a million times plays on the screen.

“y’know, i hope we last. like, a really long time after all this ghostface stuff.” you mutter, speaking more on the impulsive truth instead of false words. you mean it. ethan had a very special place in your heart. he was always there after a ghostface attack, he was there if you were sad, if you were hurt, anything. some people say that college relationships rarely continue after graduation, but you know that’s not true for your situation.

he just simply hums, the hand that was previously on your head tensing up, but slowly continuing to play with your hair. eventually, you both felt yourself drifting off on the couch and finally falling asleep.

7:30, your alarm forces you awake.

you get up from ethans lap, waking yourself up and stretching. you reach out to stop your alarm, the next screen showing various texts and calls from tara, sam, chad and mindy from last night and way early this morning.

-

mindsss 🤬🤬❣️❣️

“sams place asap.”

9:58pm

chad 🤫🧏🏽‍♂️

“where the hell are you?”

10:30pm

-

“shit, shit, shit.” you whisper to yourself, shaking ethan awake from his sleep. he groans, eyes opening slowly as he regains his sense of where he his.

“we gotta go. something happened.”

you arrive tara, quinn, and sam’s apartment with ethan, police tape and sirens blaring down the whole block. rushing over to mindy after seeing her sat in the back on an ambulance holding her arm, you see a black bag covering a body.

“who.. who is it?” the question comes out shaky, looking around the crowd and trying to see who was there and who was gone.

“step the fuck back, ghostface.” mindy says bitterly, looking you up and down as you approach her. ethan comes up next to you, his face covered in worry.

“ghostface? it’s not, it’s not me.” you stammer in shock, eyes widened from her bold statement.

“yeah, sure. you and your little boyfriend were both gone last night and we all know these fuckin psychopaths work in pairs. stay back.”

you open your mouth to talk again, but chad drags both you and ethan away from her and to a spot away from mindy. your eyes are still stuck on her, appalled by her sudden accusation.

“quinn and anika are dead.” he says, his hand running over his hair and breathing out heavily. you gasp, hand going over your mouth in shock.

so that’s what the text was about. shit. you knew you shouldn’t’ve been so involved in your final. you could’ve stopped it. you could’ve been there to help them fight ghostface off.

sam, tara, and mindy were now looking over in your direction, chad and ethan having a completely separate argument about what was going on. all you could think about was how suspicious you looked to everyone.

later that night, after suddenly hearing that gale is dead, you and the group (plus danny) go down to the train station to go to the ghostface shrine. the chatter and noise making it nearly impossible to hear what everyone was talking about.

tara, sam, chad, mindy, and danny all board the train, but chad notices that you and ethan are being held behind by a group of people. he tried to reach out of your guys, but danny pulls him back and the the doors shut with a loud hiss before you can rush onto the train.

“fucking hell.” you groan, watching as the train leaves you and ethan stranded until the next one comes.

“what a great day.” ethan says, eyes shut as he leans against one of the poles nearby as the two of you wait.

the next train pulls up 5 minutes later, you, ethan, and tons of other people pooling into the train cars. the amount of people push you two apart, him on one side and you on the other. you frantically try and push through the crowds of people, but the lights flicker off and everything goes dark. in the brief moment of light you get through the window, people with masks of horror movie characters on become way more noticeable. jason, freddy krueger, a purge mask.

a ghostface mask.

the lights flicker back on, your breathing quickened and eyes widened. you try and look for ethan from where you’re standing, seeing a small peek of his brown, curly hair but none of his face. you close your eyes for a moment, your arms clinging onto one of the poles near where you were standing.

the lights turn off once again. what the hell is wrong with these lights? the subtle colorful glow from a costume turns on, allowing you to just barely see that the ghostface mask you previously saw wasn’t where it was before, but sitting down and looking in your direction. you stumble back against the train car wall, praying that the lights would just turn on.

you hate how it was halloween and anyone could be dressed up as ghostface. the person staring at you could be a child, for all you know. or it could be one of those theorists that recognized you on the train and wanted to screw with you.

or maybe it was actually ghostface.

lights on. only for a brief second. you wonder what ethan is doing now. is he thinking of you? is he trying to look for you? what’s going on? lights off.

the person in the ghostface mask disappears completely from your line of sight. is it clear? the intercom announces that the train is coming to a stop and the doors are opening. you breathe a breath of fresh, weed and must infused air. not very comforting, but better than having to hold your breathe from worrying. you begin to walk towards the exit, taking a step forward before the person in the ghostface mask lunges towards you and pushes you back against the wall. a gloved hand covers your mouth, a sharp object plunged into your stomach.

a scream escapes your mouth, muffled by the tight hand over your mouth and your body slides down against the wall. your eyes are widened, tears violently rolling down your cheeks and mouth open with inaudible screams of agony. the knife is forced out of your skin, only to be stabbed right back inside. the ding goes off when the train stops, the doors hissing open and people begin to exit the train.

ghostface rips the knife out of you one last time, exiting the train and leaving you bleeding on the ground. ethan is finally in your line of vision and at first when he sees you he smiles, but when he sees you, the smile is wiped off of his face and he rushes over to you. he sees you holding the spot where you were stabbed, all over your blood on your hands and staining your shirt.

“oh my God, oh my God.” he panics, his eyes basically popping out of his head when he looks at you, but snaking his arm around your shoulders and helping you get up, yelling for a help when he carries you out of the train car and onto the station floor. you consciousness begins slipping away from you, the only thing you remember before passing out is being rushed into the back of an ambulance and ethan following behind.

you wake up to a bright room, unsure about what time it is, seeing a doctor, mindy, and sam next to your hospital bed. you try to sit up, groaning in pain at the sharp feeling in your abdomen.

“where’s.. where’s ethan?” you ask gently, looking around the room and not seeing him. was he hurt too? did ghostface kill him?

“ethan was one of the killers.” sam says, her hand laying on top of yours and rubbing her thumb over your skin. you shake your head eyebrows furrowing in confusion

“no, he wasn’t. he was on the train when i got stabbed, it’s not him. where is he?”

“y/n. it was him, quinn, and detective bailey. quinn’s not dead. she was the one that stabbed you. all of them are family. ethan is dead.” quinn says suddenly, her voice sounding more like she was trying to say ‘i told you so’ instead of trying to comfort you.

tears prick your eyes immediately after she says ethan was dead, your breath catches in your throat and the hand that was being held underneath sam’s shaking.

it was all a lie. study dates, the ‘i love you’s’, everything was a lie. and ethan let his own sister almost kill you in cold blood, right in front of him.

did he ever really love you?

nokkihy ™ all rights reserved. do not reupload, repost, modify or claim my work as your own!!!

[rosecoloreddesire]

Not A Lie ~ Elvis Presley

Summary: You could never imagine THE Elvis Presley to show up in your little diner. How can you tell your parents that…he’s your fiancé??

Note: IM BACK! I’m going to be graduating in February so I’m hoping I can get some writing out! I’m so sorry if this is a bad come back? I haven’t proofread yet! But I think it’s good 💙 missed you all so much!

Warnings: FLUFF!

“Y/N, you gotta stop lyin’! You know how much your daddy loves Elvis!” You huff out as you chase your mom around the kitchen island.

“Mama! Just listen to me! I’m being honest! I am enga-“ she put a finger to your lips as you both hear the front door unlock, opening to your daddy whistling a soft tune of Blue Suede Shoes.

“Not a word in front of him, got it?” You sigh loudly not wanting her to put you down.

“But mama! He’s comin’ ton-“ she cuts you off with an ice cold glare. You finally let it go, walking past your father to your room.

“God damn it all! Why won’t anyone ever listen to me?” The small phone in your room begins to ring, picking it up you sit on your bed. A certain southern drawl cheers you up.

“Hey there, lil’ lady. How’s my girl doin’? I’ll be there soon I promise. My parents are wantin’ us to get together and do some photos here at Graceland for the family album.” He chuckles while you heard his grandma in the back.

“Hi grandma! Um, pictures? Like engagement pictures?” You nervously hum, twirling the phone cord around your finger.

“Well, I did get you that pretty rock on your finger. And I think that means your stuck with lil’ old me, baby.” Your cheeks flush as he lowly whispers.

“I’ll see you soon. Lest your flirtin’ make my face flush!” His giggles are cut off as you hang up. Your face aglow. Your phone rings once again.

“Elvis Presley- if you don’t stop-“

“Elvis Presley?! I knew it!” Your best friend Amelia was on the other line….her screams of joy influence you to push the phone as far away from you as possible. You wince as she continues.

“Amelia Jones! You needa keep it down! What’ll you do if your mama says she won’t be gettin’ you into my mama’s salon this Thursday!” The other line dies down.

“You know your mamas the only one you can actually do my hair and make it look good!” You chuckle as she tries to explain herself.

“Yes! That’s why when I tell you the boy I’ve been datin’ all year and last year is Mr. Elvis Presley.” You state confidently as she squees softly.

“That’s why you wasn’t impressed when we saw him for the first time! You were kissin’ him!!!” Her giggles and squeals made you roll your eyes. Amelia was always into the whole romance and love at first sight tropes in the movies.

“Y/N! Get down here! Your mother and I need to have a talk with you!” You grumble and hope your mom hadn’t told your father about the whole engagement.

“Gotta go, Ames! Bye!” You hung up, smooth your skirt and make your way down the stairs.

“You know the policy we have on lyin’, young lady.” Your daddy was sitting on the couch with your mother.

“Daddy, I ain’t lyin’ to you! I really am-“ your mothers laugh breaks you off again.

“We are supposed to believe that Elvis Presley is coming tonight to meet us after askin for your hand?” She fans herself. Your mom usually was so supportive but you do have to hand it to her. This was kinda crazy.

“I ain’t! He’s really sweet! His mama and daddy are arranging a photo shoot for us to be in the Presley family album! I’m gonna be a Presley, daddy!”

“I wanna believe you but how did you even meet?”

—

“And will that be all for you today?” The man in front of you was clearly flirting as you wrote off his receipt.

“Uh actually this is gonna sound weird but are you an angel?” You rolled your eyes, waving your hand.

“Hm, I’ve actually never heard of that one but I am very aware thank you. Bye!” You spun around on your heel and grabbed a new pad and paper. You fixed your hair in the reflection of napkin holder.

“You handled that well, Darlin’.” You jump a little. The voice was low and oddly familiar. You turned with a flush to your cheeks.

“ yeah well creeps like that don’t like the word no so-“ you paused as you finally saw the person speaking to you.

“It’s a shame cause he ain’t wrong. But he forgot to say you look like a goddess.”

“You’re-“ you stuttered holding your hand to your chest.

“Your future boyfriend I hope.” You must have looked like a tomato with how warm your cheeks were getting.

“Uh- are you serious? Is this a prank?.”

“Here’s my number. Use it wisely.” And with a wink he was gone as fast as he came.

——

“I’m supposed to believe he came to our family restaurant when your mama and I were gone?” You nod desperately. You take your mothers hand and show her your ring.

“Oh my god, Y/N. That’s a real ring! How did you-“ your doorbell is going off before you can explain.

“Do you want to get that, daddy?” You ask softly, praying to whatever god that Elvis was standing at the door. He huffs as he sits up, making his way to the door.

“Afternoon- OH MY GOD. You-“ Your father brings your fiancé into a bear hug. Your father squeezes the poor boy as you giggle. Your skin flushing at the display.

“It’s really Elvis! What in the hell?” Your mom grasps your hands tightly as the boy walks into the house, more like pulled. You giggle as he finally sees you, a bit frazzled. He detaches himself from your father as he makes his way to you. His lips soft against your cheek as your body warms.

“Uh, mom, dad, this is my fiancé.” You spout awkwardly as Elvis slips his arm around you. Your father gleams with excitement.

“I understand why you didn’t ask for my blessin’, son! You can marry my daughter!” You’ve never seen your father so ecstatic in your life. Except the one time he won a ticket to see Elvis. Or the one time he heard Heart Break Hotel on the radio in his car. Huh….you are sensing a running theme…

“I really do love your daughter. It’s jus’ been rough tryin’ to get a time together to meet y’all.” He smiles boyishly at your parents. Your mom still reeling in the fact that you were telling the truth.

“D-did ya enjoy our family diner?” Your mom stutters out. You stifle laugh placing your hand over your mouth. You look at Elvis awaiting his answer.

“Of course, ma’am! Great atmosphere, great food, and even greater waitresses.” He bumps you with his shoulder as you blush.

“Well, don’t be a stranger, Mister Presley! Come on, we were just gettin’ ready for our meal!” Your father pushes Elvis to a chair at the table. You shakily sit next to him as your nerves still haven’t fully settled.

“Why our daughter?” Your breath hitches as your mom starts to plate the food.

“Lord, where do I start? She looks as if she walked right out of a Hollywood movie. An absolute starlet.” Your skin flushes as his hand drifts to your thigh.

“I wish! We met up with some of his Hollywood buddies and they were super sweet! They think Elvis has a real shot of hittin’ it big!” You smile as he laughs. His gaze focuses on you the whole time. How could he have found the most amazing thing to have come out of him having to hide from fans in a local diner? His eyes never leave your lips as you continue to sing his praises.

“I really think it’s a great idea to see you two married! Can you believe it, honey? We’d be related to the Presley’s!” Your dad claps as he excitedly dug into his food. Your mother still seems a little hesitant.

“What’s gonna stop you from chasin’ other girls around town? My daughter hasn’t even dated before you!” Your eyes widen as you take a bite of your dinner. You hadn’t really had that conversation with Elvis yet…

“I’m your first boyfriend?” You wince at his surprised tone. You turned to face him.

“Uh, yeah. I, uh, never really thought about the whole dating thing. Until you kissed me at that charity concert…I-“ his lips are soft against your cheek. Your hand shaking in his hand.

“You don’t need to explain nothin’, darlin’. Thank you so much for the lovely dinner but I best be goin’ soon I only had a it of time to spare.” He began to get up as your father rose from his seat.

“How about you go with him, sweetheart? Your mom and I are gonna have a talk about all this.” You nod, hugging him quickly. You all but ran up the stairs to get away from the tension.

“How cute. Pink really fits you.” Elvis smirks as his fingers traced your bed sheets. You scoff as you pack a small bag.

“I haven’t gotten to change my sheets since I was like 10, E. Give me a break. Do you really want to do this?” Elvis’ hand caresses your face, pushing a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I want you. Every day. Afternoon. And night. You are all I think about.” His voice just a bit above a whisper. Your eyes were heavy as you stare at his lips.

“Can I be yours forever?” His lips were soft as he pulls you close. The kiss was delicate but passionate as he grips your hair slightly.

“If you’ll let me.”

[rhondafromhr]

Expanding on my “the Monroes adopt Max and he becomes an even worse person” AU

- they take him in not long after he turns sixteen. His dad dies in some kind of freak accident, it makes the news and Linda recognizes the name because she knows everything there is to know about the history of the Honey Queen pageant and his mom won about ten years ago. She also knows that, like every other winner of that pageant, she left Hatchetfield and never looked back, meaning Max is completely alone now. She’s not sure why she cares about this complete stranger, but her heart breaks for him not having a loving home and she decides she can provide that. She’s a great mother, after all, and they already have four beautiful boys, what’s one more? Gerald isn’t as invested at first, but he agrees to it because he supports Linda in basically anything she wants to do.

-Linda keeps trying to give him expensive new things to cheer him up and make him feel like part of the family and she doesn’t understand why he’s reluctant to accept them. His dad was the type to act like providing basic needs (food, housing, etc) was a huge burden and always came with strings attached, saying stuff like “I put a roof over your head, I pay all your sports fees and you couldn’t even win that game?”. She and Gerald eventually figure it out and the next time Linda gives him something, she makes sure to tell him he doesn’t have to take it if he doesn’t want to, but it’s a gift that they got for him because they like him and they’re glad he’s here. That makes him smile for the first time since he moved in. He tells her that he’s glad he’s there, too.

-they try to stick him in an expensive private school, but he wants to stay at Hatchetfield High because he doesn’t want to give up his power there. They go back and forth over it for a few weeks and during that time, someone overhears them discussing it while out for dinner. This leads to a rumor going around school that Max is leaving and it gives all the nerds so much false hope that things could get better. In the end, they let him stay. There’s not a lot Linda and Gerald can’t get away with, but even they’re not willing to risk pulling the star quarterback out of school and making the Nighthawks lose to Clivesdale.

-Pete, Ruth and Richie do end up transferring out to get the hell away from him when he starts becoming even more of a menace, as impossible as that seems. Richie begs Paul to let him finish out high school at Sycamore and Paul reluctantly helps him get a variance. He joins the anime club and the swim team there. Sycamore isn’t as cliquey as Hatchetfield High and a lot of the kids who go there are just as “weird” as he is, so he’s actually kind of popular there and he’s much happier. Ruth starts doing online school. Being away from the constant bullying, her anxiety starts to get better and her confidence improves. She joins a local theater troupe for teens, makes tons of new friends there and lands her first ensemble role. Pete just works his ass off and graduates early, then goes off to UCLA (he gets his own CaliforMIA reprise). Lex and Hannah make it to California in this universe too because why the hell not and Pete ends up being their roommate. I just think he and Lex would be an iconic duo. They’d hate each other at first (she’s a retail worker and Pete’s canonically a rude customer, natural enemies) but then they’d start vibing and the levels of snark would be off the charts.

-When Linda and Gerald see how Max is struggling in school, they hire a tutor for him and his grades actually improve a little. He’s still a nightmare to deal with and doesn’t try that hard, but they pay this tutor such an extravagant amount that they’re willing to put up with just about anything. Just for funsies, maybe the tutor is Ziggy. Idk could be a fun comedic pairing and I like to think Ziggs is smarter than they let on and tutors on the side so their only stream of income won’t be drug dealing - they don’t want people getting suspicious of how they’re making a living.

-Linda and Gerald start going to every single football game with the boys. The whole family is decked out in an obnoxious amount of Nighthawks gear and they cheer for Max louder than anybody else. Max pretends not to care, but he secretly loves it. They’re proud of him and it’s not conditional on whether he wins or not. They prioritize him, clearing their schedules so they can come to the games and always show up when they say they’re going to. His dad never did that for him.

-Max injures his knee during one of these games and he insists he’s fine, but the coach forces him to sit out for the rest of it. He’s worried Linda and Gerald are going to be mad at him for not playing or think he’s weak for not toughing it out, but they’re both just worried about him and want to make sure he’s okay. When they get home, Gerald makes him stay off of it and ice it. Linda fusses over him and his new brothers keep him entertained while he’s laid up on the couch.

-every so often, the school calls the Monroes and tries to talk to them about a bullying incident. It’s pretty rare because Max is the star football player and the administration doesn’t really care what he does, but if it’s a particularly violent one they’ll at least make a half-assed attempt to address it for appearances’ sake. Gerald tells them “if you have that much of a problem with it YOU do something about it.” Linda then reminds them that if they do, their generous donations to the school just might dry up. Whenever Max comes home after, Gerald just laughs about it and claps him on the back, then says something along the lines of “That’s my boy, keeping those nerds in line!” Obviously, this only encourages him more.

-Linda decides to impart her wisdom on him and show him that brute force isn’t the only way to keep people in line and get what he wants. She and Gerald start to teach Max more creative, underhanded ways to hurt people and encourage him to use their wealth and connections to his full advantage. As they say, what’s the point of having money if you’re not going to enjoy it?

-As part of this lesson, Gerald fondly recounts what Linda did to that girl’s skis in that competition back in college and how it was the moment he knew she was the one. He goes on about how hot, successful and smart she is and says that Max should take her advice because she knows what she’s talking about. Max can’t put it into words, but there’s something so healing about seeing the way Gerald and Linda love and support each other. Maybe seeing this modeled teaches him how to have (somewhat) healthy romantic relationships down the line and he and Grace eventually get together and have a similar “horrible to everyone else, loving and supportive to each other/enabling to each other’s bad behavior” dynamic.

-When Max joins the family for dinner with Roman and hears the way he talks to Linda, he can’t control his temper and tells him he doesn’t care who he is, he’s going to smash his face in if he doesn’t shut the fuck up because nobody talks to Linda like that. Gerald, of course, is absolutely delighted. Linda half heartedly scolds him, but is secretly so touched that he stood up for her like that. She and Gerald discuss it, decide Max deserves a little reward and buy him a brand new Range Rover.

-After the incident with Roman, Linda tells Max that he just might be her new favorite. River overhears and this ignites a lifelong, largely one-sided sibling rivalry with Max. He starts kind of emulating Max’s bad behavior and lashing out at school to try and get Linda’s attention and when that doesn’t work, he becomes a huge overachiever instead as a way to distinguish himself from Max and make himself feel superior since Max isn’t very academically gifted. He does genuinely study and work hard but he also pulls every dirty trick imaginable to sabotage any other students standing in his way (some…unfortunate things end up happening to his competition for a few scholastic awards and the one student who’s ahead of him for valedictorian his senior year). Linda’s proud of him and showers him with praise, but all he can think about is that moment Max displaced him as the favorite. He wonders if anything he does will ever be good enough to earn that spot back.

[hendersister]

hazy shade of winter

summary: after vecna opens the gates, you and steve decide to stay behind in hawkins to help clean up the mess.

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!sister reader

title 🎵: hazy shade of winter by the bangles

It’s been about a month since Vecna opened the gates to the Upside Down. A lot has changed since that fateful March night. Hawkins is almost unrecognizable now. 

As the gates opened, Hawkins was rocked with a 7.4 magnitude earthquake. People died, homes were destroyed. It was so bad that the government had to bring in the Army to help deal with the fall out. They believe what happened in Hawkins was a natural disaster of near-unprecedented scale, but you know the truth. There was nothing natural about it… 

Since the gates expanded throughout town, the Upside Down has been slowly seeping into the real world. It’s invading Hawkins. People are fleeing in droves and you don’t blame them. 

You’ve changed a lot too. Before Vecna, you were looking forward to leaving Hawkins and going off to college. Now that feels like a lifetime ago. You aren’t going anywhere anymore. Things are getting bad in Hawkins and you want to be close to your mom and your little brother, Dustin, during this time.

You and the rest of the party lost the battle against Vecna. You feel partially responsible and now you feel like it's your job to clean up the mess Vecna made. Vecna may have won the battle when he opened the gates, but the war has just begun. You are not leaving town until the gates are closed and threats from the Upside Down are gone for good. 

Your boyfriend, Steve, feels the same way. You and Steve had talked about getting out of Hawkins before everything happened. But now he’s just as committed as you to stay behind and help save Hawkins. You’re so grateful to have Steve by your side. He makes you feel safe. 

Even though the world is ending, the show must go on. Your life didn’t completely stop because of Vecna. You’re still moving forward and hitting big milestones, like graduating high school. Today was Graduation Day for Hawkins High. You’re happy and excited that school’s out, but with everything else going on, it didn’t feel like a big deal like it was supposed to. 

The graduation ceremony was weird. A lot of people fled town before the school year ended so you only graduated with about half of your class. But at least you had Steve, Dustin and your mom in the stands cheering you on. There were memorials for Chrissy Cunningham, Jason Carver and Patrick McKinney. Sadly but not surprisingly, Eddie wasn’t even mentioned. He should’ve been walking across that stage with you and the rest of class of ‘86.

After Graduation, you went out for a celebratory meal with Steve, Dustin and your mom. Then you and Steve went off to do your own thing. 

You’re currently lying on the hood of Steve’s car, stargazing. It’s something that you and Steve used to do all the time. You fell in love under the stars. Unfortunately, you can’t really see the stars in Hawkins anymore. You’re mostly just watching spores of particles from the Upside Down falling from the sky. It reminds you of a hazy shade of winter.

“If things get any worse here, I think we should go to the planetarium next time we want to watch the stars,” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

“Mhmmm,” Steve mumbles.

You look over to Steve, studying his face. You’re trying to get a read on him. You’ve noticed he’s been acting a bit off since dinner ended. He’s a lot more quiet than usual. Something is up with him.

“Steve, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” you try to get your boyfriend to open up.

Steve sighs. 

“It’s nothing…. It’s just…. My parents are leaving Hawkins and putting the house up for sale,” Steve reluctantly admits.

Your jaw drops.

“What?! That doesn’t sound like nothing!” you exclaim.

“My mom and dad are moving but I’m not going anywhere,” Steve assures you. 

You let out a sigh of relief. Your boyfriend continues venting.

“The worst part is that they won’t let me stay at home even though they will never be able to sell it. My asshole dad is just trying to teach me some stupid lesson…”

“When did you find out about this?” you question Steve.

“Last night,” your boyfriend answers.

“Last night!? Why didn’t you say anything earlier today?” you scrunch your forehead.

“It’s your day, Y/N. I didn’t want to make it about me,” Steve tells you.

Your heart melts a little bit. Steve is so sweet and selfless. Despite all the shit going on in his own life, he always puts you first. You snuggle up closer to your boyfriend, wrapping a protective arm across his chest.

“When are your parents leaving?” you ask with concern.

“They’re trying to leave as soon as possible so I need to find a new place like immediately,” Steve explains, “I don’t think it’s gonna be too hard. With everyone leaving town, I can probably rent a whole house for pretty cheap.”

Some people who fled Hawkins put their homes up for rent because they knew they could never sell it. Most of the renters are people whose homes were destroyed when the gate opened but are too poor to move out of Hawkins and completely start over.

“I don’t like the thought of you being all alone,” you say with a quiet seriousness in your voice. 

Steve takes a deep breath and nods, understanding. He can tell that you’re worried. He’s trying to figure out the right words to say, and then-

“I wouldn’t be alone if you moved in with me…”

You pull away from Steve and sit up. You’re in a bit of shock. You weren’t expecting that.

“Huh?”

“I think we should move in together,” Steve repeats with more confidence

Your eyes widen.

“Are you serious? Like we’d live in a house that we both live in?”

Steve nods.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sneaking over to your place like every other night anyways. Moving in together will mean less sneaking around,” he tries to convince you.

“But I thought you liked sneaking around. You’re stealthy like a ninja, remember?” you tease.

“Just think about it, Y/N! We’ll get a little place in Hawkins and we’ll figure it out. We can be like real grown ups. It would be our house. No stress, no parents. A place just for us,” your boyfriend says.

Just for us. That sounds perfect.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you smile.

Steve’s face lights up.

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod before pulling your boyfriend into a kiss.

You and Steve are making out on the hood of his car when-

GROWL

You and Steve stop kissing immediately as soon as you hear the growls in the distance. You two exchange knowing looks. You have no idea if it's just an animal or a far more sinister creature from the Upside Down, but neither you or Steve want to stick around and find out.

“I think we should get out of here,” Steve tells you.

“Yeah,” you nod your head in agreement.

Steve jumps off the hood of the car and offers his hand. You take your boyfriend’s hand and he helps you off the hood. Steve opens the car door on the passenger’s side and you quickly get in. Steve closes your door and looks around, making sure that nothing is trying to sneak up on the two of you. Then he goes around to the driver’s side and gets in the car.

As Steve drives away, you can’t help but be a little bummed that your moment of bliss was interrupted by a terrible reminder that you’ve still got a lot of shit to deal with…