#she goes at really weird hours when no one else is there to make sure she doesn’t have to see them

[lynxfrost13]

Maybe I’ll finally Wanze post soon

[amourane]

so this is love

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 2.7k

summary: there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

warnings: none!

a/n: i honestly love this so much and it's so so sooo cute!

Theodore Nott was many things. Quiet, judgmental, emotionless and most importantly handsome. One of the prettiest boys in Hogwarts yet the most unapproachable. No one had ever seen a smile grace his lips and if you had tried to converse with the Slytherin he would only stare at you with blank eyes waiting for you to go away. He spoke little words but it was enough for people to get the point. Unlike his rowdy group of friends, he wouldn’t merrily join in conversation, rather make snarky remarks every now and then, an uninterested look always on his face. A scowl or a smirk always tugged at his lips as he listened to what his friends had to say. 

Even though Theo never voiced his thoughts out loud he always knew what to think. His mind was constantly running at a hundred miles per hour. Every little thing he wanted to say flitted through his mind. It was as if his head was a cacophonous symphony. 

Yet as he looked at the girl in yellow robes his mind was oddly quiet. He watched her silently as she dropped her ingredients into her cauldron. It was a rare moment. One he had discovered a month ago when he had finished his potion early and looked around to see if anyone else was done. There you were. Eyes scanning the contents of your Potion’s book but it was quite clear you had finished brewing whatever was in your cauldron as you leaned back into your seat. 

Theo’s mind was silent. 

There were no thoughts, no opinions, no judgments. He stared at you and it made him uneasy. There was something about you that unnerved him. He didn’t recall you from his other classes and it was the first time he had even seen you in Potions. As he felt the comforting silence settle in his head he concluded one thing - you were interesting and he was going to keep an eye on you.

“Nott, mate, what are you doing? I’ve been asking you to pass me a quill for about a century, have you suddenly gone deaf?” Blaise nudged Theo out of his trance and the brunette blinked for a second before passing over a quill. His partner frowned before following where his eyeline previously was and he smirked. “Still obsessing over the little Hufflepuff I see. Who knew you were capable of having feelings.”

“I don’t fancy her.”

“I never said you did.” Blaise’s smirk widened. “You came up with that on your own.”

Theo felt his face heat up. It wasn’t true. He didn’t like you, not in the slightest. He was merely fascinated at how you were able to turn his manic mind into a state of tranquillity. He looked over. You were talking to your partner beside you and Theo assumed she had said something funny because a grin had overtaken your pretty features and a giggle slipped past your lips. Theo didn’t fancy you but he couldn’t deny that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

//

“He’s staring again.” Hannah said as she poked your side to get your attention. “It’s like he’s drilling holes into your skull. Do you think he wants to hex you?”

You looked up from your cauldron with a frown as you faced your friend. “He doesn’t stare at me, don’t be silly Hannah. I’m sure he has a reason for looking this way.”

“Y/n you’re terrible at finding excuses for anything. It’s so obvious he’s looking at you and his glare is starting to scare me a bit.” 

Behind your fellow Hufflepuff was Theodore Nott. Your eyes glaze over his perfectly tousled hair and his dark coloured eyes. He really was handsome. You watch as he says something to Blaise and you see a tint of pink touch his cheeks. Cute. You smiled to yourself. Merlin, he was really cute.

Theodore Nott had been watching you for a few weeks now and you weren’t oblivious enough to not notice the Slytherin’s gaze. At first you didn’t know how to react when you first felt his eyes on you. It was weird. Every time you would turn around he would already be looking down at his piece of parchment, scribbling something down with his quill. You had never caught him staring at you but you could certainly feel it. The piercing feeling of his stare made goosebumps rise on your skin. In a way you found it endearing. Sometimes you would turn around and find him, nose deep in his textbook and you could faintly see the tips of his ears blush red. It was those times you would giggle to yourself. 

It was arrogant to assume that Theo felt that way about you but for some reason you couldn’t help but get a little giddy at the thought he might. That someone like him would even think about going out with someone like you. That the cutest guy in your year would fancy you. Then reality came crashing back and you knew that a Slytherin would never be seen with a Hufflepuff much less date one.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n? You still there?” Hannah waved her hand in front of your face. “Merlin, one mention of Nott and you go all dreamy on me. When are you going to ask him out then?”

Your cheeks flared up with heat and you couldn’t help a smile that tugs at your lips. “Shush Hannah.” You try to sound serious but with your blushing face and bright grin it’s hard to do so.

“You’re actually whipped, Y/n.” Hannah let out a laugh and you let a giggle slip past your lips at her statement. You didn’t feel the need to deny it after all, maybe it held some truth. 

//

Theodore Nott always knew what to say and when but as he stood in front of you he found himself speechless. Now as his eyes wandered over your delicate hands and beautiful face he couldn’t find the words that needed to be said. His mind was quiet again. Silence. He opened his mouth to apologise for bumping into you and nearly knocking you over but no words came out. So he did the next best thing, help you grab your books.

You were scrambling to grab scrap pieces of parchment that had escaped the grasps of your books and Theo grabbed the Herbology textbook you had dropped. He watched as you gathered your things before finally meeting his gaze. You smiled and he felt his heart stop. Suddenly it was as if he was being engulfed in a tidal wave. There was a twinkle in your eyes and it set off a spark in his chest that he didn’t know was there. Theo felt himself grow hot as you stared at him and for the first time in his life he felt self conscious.

“Thank you.” You said and he felt his ears ring as your voice echoed through his mind. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and I was in a rush to get to my next class. I hope you aren’t hurt anywhere.”

A beat passed.

Theo blinked. He watched as your bright expression slowly morphed into one of concern. He watched as you reached out to touch his arm.

“Theodore?”

“It’s Theo.” Is the only thing he can think to say before he realised how it must’ve sounded rude. “But you can call me Theodore. I don't mind.”

Another beat passed.

The two of you were now standing in the middle of the hallway as other students passed by. Theo could hear their whispers as they looked. The curious eyes wondering what a Slytherin could possibly be talking to a Hufflepuff about. For a second Theo thinks he’s upset you and you’re going to storm off but he’s proven wrong. The bright smile returned to your face.

“Well Theo, I’m going to need my Herbology textbook back, I’ve already been late twice this week.” 

“O-Oh yes right, sorry I forgot.”

Theodore Nott has never once stumbled over his words. Yet as he stood in front of you he found himself wrapped in a world he had never known before. He felt himself grow even warmer and he reached a hand to loosen the emerald tie around his neck. This was unlike him. He never went speechless, he never struggled to find a smart quip or retort and he most definitely never stuttered. You brought out a side to him that was new and he didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Thank you for helping me Theo, I’ll see you in Potions.” You waved goodbye as you hurried off down the hallway. 

Theo’s eyes remained glued onto your frame as you ran. A rising bubbly feeling began in his chest and he felt his heart quicken. He gulped. You had long disappeared from his view but he still felt a burning sensation on his cheeks and he tried to cool himself down with his hands but it served no use. Giving up, he turned away and marched down the hall determined to figure out whatever he was feeling.

//

“You know staring at her won’t make her your girlfriend Nott.” Mattheo smirked as he watched his best friend. The others at the Slytherin table tittered with laughter and Theo rolled his eyes. He was now used to his friend’s teasing and even though it was relentless he didn’t pay any attention to it. Why would he? It wasn’t true anyway.

“Very funny Riddle.”

“You know me Theo, always the jokester.” He winked as he sipped the pumpkin juice in his cup.

“But seriously Theo you should ask her out if you like the girl. Salazar, it's better than drilling holes in the back of her head.” 

“Pansy’s right Nott, we’re all tired of you mooning over the girl just go ask her out already and then the two of you can go snog in the broom cupboard.” Draco snickered and the other Slytherins erupted into another round of laughter.

“Well you’ve got it all wrong I don’t fancy her.” Theo looked at his friends with a scowl present on his face. “She makes me feel all these things and I hate it. I hate how different it is. I hate how quiet everything gets when I look at her. I hate how she makes me feel and it’s all horrible and downright disgusting. It’s like I’ve got a fever whenever I’m around her and I’ve somehow contracted some life-threatening heart disease. My mouth dries up and I stumble over what I say and it’s not like me at all. So no, you’ve all got it wrong because I don't fancy her.”

With that Theo leaves the table, dinner untouched, with red cheeks and a rapidly beating heart. His friends watched dumbfounded as their friend trudged away. They all exchange knowing glances before shaking their heads at his obliviousness to his own feelings.

“That guy seriously needs to realise that sometimes not being an emotionless prick isn’t going to kill him.” Pansy dug into her beef as she scoffed at her friend’s stupidity.

Unbeknownst to the Slytherins a certain Hufflepuff was watching as their friend stormed off, her eyes never once leaving his ruby red face and the angry glare that accompanied it. She excused herself from her table before slipping away to follow a certain brunette.

//

Annoyance was the main thing that Theodore Nott felt at the moment. Anger at the persistence that he had a crush on you when he didn’t, he knew he didn’t. You had cast some sort of spell on him. Some sort of hex that made him notice every little bit about you. The way your smile lit up the room, the way your laughter echoed in his mind like the happy tinkering of a bell. Every second he saw you it was as if you overtook his senses. Clouding his sight with your beauty, suffocating him with your sweet scent, muffling his ravenous thoughts until everything was calm. 

When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt an overwhelming emotion, one that he couldn’t explain, but it made his hectic thoughts still and as cheesy as it sounded it made time itself stand still. When Theodore Nott looked at you he noticed every fine small detail like the way you like to smile at yourself whenever you get a question right or the way you tap your fingers on the desk when you’re concentrating. When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt his heart soar and he isn’t used to feeling this unnatural emotion that had been brewing inside of him.

He didn’t even notice you were behind him until he heard your voice. Soft and gentle and kind. He spun around. You had a look of concern etched upon your face and you stepped closer towards him and he backed away feeling his heart quicked once again. He glared at you hoping that his stare would force you to go away and would force whatever he was feeling to disappear.

“Are you okay Theo? I saw you leave and you didn’t touch your food, did something happen?”

You were so caring, so nice, so calm. You were so many things and Theo couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take looking at you when he could hear his heart pumping. “What are you doing to me?” He whispered, backing away further.

You frowned. “I haven’t done anything Theo. Are you sure you’re okay you look quite red and-”

“You’re lying.” He seethed. “You’re lying because why are you making me feel these things? Why does my mind go quiet, my thoughts stop, the words fail? There’s no explanation to this. I don’t understand why my heart races and everything suddenly feels hotter around me. I don’t understand this feeling I have inside me, some magnetic force that keeps pulling me to you. You’re everywhere Y/n.”

His glare intensified as he spoke, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate step forward. “I look at you and I feel things I’ve never felt before, this bubbly warm feeling. Whenever I’m around you I can’t think of what to say. I close my eyes and I see your smile, your eyes. I can hear your laughter even if we’re in the noisiest classroom. You’re everywhere Y/n. So tell me, what have you done to me?”

A beat of silence.

The both of you stare at each other. Your frown had long gone and now you simply looked at the Slytherin in front of you trying to decipher his anger.

“It’s love Theo.” You take a step closer. “All the things you’ve just said - it’s love.”

Theo froze. His expression remained stony yet his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he looked away for a second. He blinked before looking at you once again. Your eyes, the eyes he couldn’t help but notice everywhere he went, looked back at him. His mind was no longer quiet. An outbreak of noise erupted inside his head and he struggled to grasp what was going on. He couldn’t focus. All he could hear was his own voice in his mind, overlapping, shouting, screaming, crying. It all came crashing down and Theo didn’t know what to do.

Then your lips collided with his and he stilled. The noise died down. Chaos ceased. Theo let his eyes flutter shut as he kissed you back with fervour. Your lips were soft and you tasted sweet like strawberries. He wrapped his arm around your waist and you were warm as you leaned into his touch. He felt your arms tangle in his hair and he smiled at the feeling. This felt right. This didn’t feel weird or disgusting. It was something he never thought he would feel. 

The both of you broke apart and you blinked looking at Theo with your beautiful eyes. His heart continued to race. You beamed up at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. You were so pretty, so gorgeous and you had just kissed him. His mind was finally quiet again. The strange feeling that filled his body now didn’t feel so foreign at all in fact it felt natural as he gazed at you.

“It’s love Theodore Nott. That’s what you feel.” You give him another kiss. “And it’s what I feel too.”

Theodore Nott was many things but as he closed his eyes to kiss you once again there is only one thing that he wants to be - in love with you.

[arandomao3user]

So, I will now make batfam headcannons because I am bored and procrastinating writing again (my readers hate me, I know it) and so I present:

How each Bat kid handles food, specifically sharing / wasting food. (with fanon because fandom runs on fanon--) This is all based off my own family, btw.

Starting with Dick: He has no problem eating random food he found lying out, food is food, and he isn't fond of wasting food. (This often leads to him getting yelled at for "stealing" food, but he is the eldest and a firm believer in finders keepers.) This also includes members of the JL, Titans, et cetra... He has licked drugs off the ground, what do you want from him?

Jason will absolutely not waste food under any circumstance, if you waste food in his presence you better expect a scolding because "CHILDREN ARE DYING, TIM!" he is also the guy who donates half his kitchen. Weekly. Because he has this habit of over buying and over stocking his kitchen and doesn't realize till he gets home and tries to put everything away, only to realize he bought to much BUT THE STORE HAD GOOD BUY AND GET ONES, DAMMIT! But he doesn't share food or eat food off others plates UNLESS he likes that person.

Sure, he'll snatch food off Bruce's plate before telling him he despises him, same for Tim, but they both have observed him enough to know he won't even touch the food at a gala because rich people hands? Ew.

Cassandra sneaks into Tim's apartment for food, she sneaks into Bab's apartment for food, she will steal food without a single care in the world. Jason just went grocery shopping? She's stealing those chips she likes. Damian left a salad on the counter? Hers now. She doesn't mean to steal it, it's just that before she was even adopted she did this, and she isn't stopping now. Similar to Jason, she won't steal it unless she likes the person, and even then it has to be her family, and only those she calls family.

Tim is an absolute menace, he'll make food then decide he doesn't want it AFTER HE ALREADY MADE IT and then goes out of his way to find someone else to eat it, he is the reason Alfred the cat, Titus, and Ace are gaining weight and Damian could kill him for it because they're on specific diets. But Tim does not care, because he has been yelled at by Jason so many times about wasting food that he simply has to give his food to someone. This makes Dick and Tim also have a symbiotic relationship.

(Dick, minding his own business, literally doing anything:

Tim, walking up to him with a plate of food, either half eaten or still warm, or cold because he made it and forgot about it hours ago:

Dick, not caring at all, taking the plate and eating it, because food is food:)

But Tim will under no circumstance do the same. He will not eat or even touch another persons plate because he is missing a spleen and has seen Dick stick his hands in drugs and LICK THEM, he has seen Damian pet a cow with his bare hands, he has seen Stephanie forget to wash her hands before cooking. Tim does love his family, but they are riddled with disease and Tim can't risk that. He won't even leave his drinks unattended around them because he has paranoia that they'll try to drug him. Damian brought him coffee one time and he dumped it out in front of the kid, because he will NOT be caught slacking.

Duke doesn't really understand his siblings food dynamic thing they got going, it's so incredibly confusing trying to figure out their weird food rules. He tries to understand them all, piece it all together, he makes LISTS and NOTES trying to understand, but he just can't grasp it. So, when he makes food, he either makes the exact amount he knows he'll eat so he doesn't waste any, or he makes enough for everyone to have some, because what do you mean Dick just steals everyone's food? If Jason's over is he gonna scold him if he wastes a single crumb? Cass just... Waits till you're not looking? Duke never did waste food before, but now he thinks it might be a literal crime if he does it in Wayne manor, despite them being rich.

He also sneaks food to Alfred the cat and the dogs, but he'll continue to let Tim take the blame on it all.

Damian, similarly to Tim, is paranoid about others feeding him, sure his body isn't affected by most poisons or toxins after growing up where he grew up, but he will also not be caught slacking. Does he waste food? No. He feeds it to Bruce and Bruce alone. Nobody else is allowed to eat after him except his Father. He will NOT have his DNA stolen, because again, he is as paranoid as Tim and Bruce and has met Kon.

This took a while for him to even accept food from Alfred, and he refuses to eat Bruce's cooking for different reasons (that man can't cook), and he is still reluctant to accept Jason's cooking, but outside Alfred and Jason? Damian will not be touching, looking, or eating it.

Stephanie gives no f*cks. She'll eat after any of them, she used to straight up steal Tim's food when they dated, like order a salad and when it came to the table she changed her mind and swapped hers and Tim's plates. Now she does the same with Cass, only Cass has learnt by now what Stephanie actually wants, then when the food gets to the table, she swaps them herself. As for wasting food? She feeds it to stray cats, or if she's at the manor, she'll feed it to Titus, Ace, and Alfred the cat right in front of Damian. They both agree to blame Tim.

(Steph: I want a burger.

Cass: No. You want a hotdog and fries.

Steph: Pfft, I think I know what I wanna eat, Cass.

-later-

Steph:

Cass:

Steph: So--

Cass, already swapping their plates around, giving Steph her hotdog and fries: I know.)

BONUS:

Bruce, while raising Dick, straight up handed him his plate if he caught him looking at it, and said he was allowed to eat whatever he found lying around. This results in Dick eating leftover, week old Batburger off the car floor, and he tries to correct himself, but the day he hears that Dick licked drugs off the literal ground, he realizes he messed up. Severely.

Bruce still donated food weekly even after Jason died, and would forget Tim wasn't Jason and push his plate toward Tim whenever he ate over at the manor, expecting him to steal some of whatever he was eating, and made sure to buy Jason's favorite foods even after he died. Bruce never touched them himself, but he was slightly suspicious when they randomly started going missing years later (cue Cass in the shadows--)

Bruce, before adopting Tim, would be so confused when Tim randomly handed him plates of food, half eaten, just cooked, or cold, and he walked away. Bruce soon realized it was because Tim noticed he'd lost weight after Jason's death but didn't wanna directly confront him about it. Bruce appreciated it. But it later became second nature for Tim to randomly make food, then forget why he made it, or he made it and simply wasn't hungry but felt the need to find someone to eat it.

Bruce semi-panics when Damian later comes along and randomly hands him food, insisting he and he only can eat it, before walking away. Turns out Bruce is just the chosen one.

Bruce hates going out to eat with Stephanie-- she steals his food, the entire plate, every time. But he does it anyways, because Cass also comes along and Stephanie makes her ask Bruce every single time, and Bruce can't say no to Cass.

Bruce eats after all his children, he's at the point he doesn't even look to see who's handing him it, he simply takes the plate, bowl, or whatever, and eats it, because Tim will still seek him and hand him food, Damian will do the same, Jason uses him as a taste tester, Dick once handed him a weed brownie to see if he'd eat it. He did. Without any thought behind those eyes...

[winwintea]

the call

PAIRING ↬ lee donghyuck x fem!reader

TAGS ↬ thriller, cheating!?, romance, angst(?), blood, attempted murder, i really don't know how to tag this, non-linear narrative, maybe horror

SUMMARY ↬ haechan leaves you a cryptic phone call on a night out. something about this doesn’t sit right with you.

WORD COUNT ↬3.3k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ surprise! this isn't the jisung fic but i decided to pull this one out of my sleeve as well. title and fic is inspired by "the call" by backstreet boys! the fic is also not written in linear order.

1 HOUR BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Hello?”

“Hi, it's me, what's up, baby? I'm sorry, listen, I'm gonna be late tonight So, don't stay up and wait for me, okay?”

“Where are you?”

“Wait, wait, say that again?”

“Haechan. Hello?”

“You're really dropping out, I think my battery must be low. Listen, if you can hear me, we're going to a place nearby, alright? Gotta go.”

4 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

“Don’t pout,” Haechan teases, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. His voice is light, but his teasing smile can’t hide the affection in his eyes.

“I’m not pouting,” you argue, crossing your arms in mock defiance.

“You’re pouting,” he insists, stepping closer until he’s standing right in front of you. He tilts his head, studying your expression, before leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Admit it. You’ll miss me.”

“I won’t,” you shoot back, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“Liar.” He grins, tugging on the strings of your hoodie playfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll behave. Just a couple of drinks with the guys, and I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me for real.”

“Uh-huh. Famous last words.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him as he walks toward the door.

“Text me if you get bored without me,” he calls out, slipping on his sneakers.

“You mean when you get bored and want an excuse to leave early,” you counter, leaning against the doorframe as you watch him put on his jacket.

“Guilty,” he admits with a wink. “Alright, baby, I’m out. Love you.”

“Love you too,” you reply softly, watching as he steps outside.

This is normal. Haechan always goes out with his friends on Saturdays. You glance at your phone, opening the chat with him to send a quick, “Be safe. Don’t let them drag you into anything dumb.” You know he won’t see it right away, but it makes you feel better.

30 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

You’re pacing the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. Haechan’s earlier call echoes in your mind. 

I’m going to a place nearby.

The shrill sound of your ringtone breaks through your thoughts, and you nearly drop the phone in your scramble to answer.

“Sunoo?” you ask, recognizing the name on the screen.

“Y/N, hey,” Sunoo says, his voice laced with hesitation. “Um, I’m sorry if this is weird, but I thought I should tell you something.”

Your stomach twists. “What’s wrong?”

“I just saw Haechan… I think,” he says nervously. “He was walking down the street near the bar, but he wasn’t alone.”

Your breath catches. “Who was he with?”

“A woman,” Sunoo admits reluctantly. “She was… kind of close to him. Like, really close. I thought it was weird because he looked tense—like he was nervous, while also trying to relax. But she was smiling, laughing. I didn’t want to assume anything, but…”

You sit down on the couch, your legs threatening to give out. “Where did you see them?”

“Toward the alley near the old convenience store. They were walking away from the bar,” Sunoo says, his words spilling out quickly. “I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if I should get involved or assume anything, but I thought you should know.”

Your mind races. That’s not far. But why would he leave the bar with a woman?

“Thanks for telling me,” you manage, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, I don’t think he—” Sunoo starts, but you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’ll figure it out. Thank you.”

You hang up before he can say anything else, your hands shaking as you dial Haechan’s number.

“Come on, pick up,” you mutter, pacing again. The call goes straight to voicemail. You redial, but it’s the same result. “Haechan, please, just call me back. I don’t care what’s going on—I just need to know you’re okay.”

You end the call and clutch the phone to your chest, trying to steady your breathing.

You didn’t think he was cheating. You didn’t want to think that. But what if he really was with another woman? What if he lied about being late?

“No,” you whisper to yourself. Haechan wasn’t like that. You trusted him. But then why did he sound so strange on the phone? And who was this woman?

Your phone buzzes again, but it’s not Haechan. It’s a message from Sunoo: “Don’t make any assumptions. He looked… scared. Either he’s nervous about getting caught or something else. Be careful. Don’t do anything rash.”

Scared? Your chest tightens as panic fully takes over. Something is horribly wrong.

Without another thought, you grab your coat and keys, determined to find him yourself.

3 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with energy—music thumping, glasses clinking, and conversations overlapping. Haechan sits at a table with his friends, a round of drinks between them. He laughs at something Jaemin says, his head tipping back as he taps the table.

“Another round?” Jaemin asks, holding up his empty glass.

Haechan shakes his head. “I’m good for now. You’re not dragging me into your three-shots-in-five-minutes challenge again.”

“Come on,” Jaemin groans dramatically. “You’re so boring these days, man. What happened to the Haechan who used to party like a legend?”

“He got a girlfriend,” Renjun cuts in, smirking. “And he doesn’t want to die if she finds out he got plastered without telling her.”

The table erupts in laughter, and Haechan just shrugs, grinning. “Hey, priorities. Y/N’s cuter than all of you combined.”

As the guys banter, none of them notice the woman until she’s standing right by their table. Her hair is sleek, her makeup flawless, and her gaze sharp as she focuses entirely on Haechan.

“Hi,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.”

Haechan blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Oh. Uh, hi.”

She smiles, leaning in slightly. “You looked like you were having fun, but maybe later… I’ve got a little place nearby. Wanna go?”

The air shifts awkwardly at the table. Although her invitation is innocent, her intentions are clear. Haechan’s friends exchange glances, their smirks fading as they realize what’s happening.

Haechan’s smile is polite but firm. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good. I’ve got someone waiting for me at home.”

Her smile falters for a split second before she recovers, her tone light but insistent. “Are you sure? It’s not far, and I think you’d enjoy it.”

Haechan shakes his head. “Thanks, but no. Have a good night.”

She lingers for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, before she finally steps back. “Your loss,” she murmurs, turning on her heel and walking away.

As she moves to a dark corner of the bar, Haechan exhales, muttering, “Well, that was weird.”

Jaemin snorts. “You should’ve seen your face, man.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haechan says, waving him off. But something about the encounter reminds him of something. He glances toward the woman, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes meet. 

Oh fuck.

15 MINUTES BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The air is cold against your skin as you hurriedly zip up your jacket and step out into the night. The street feels far too quiet for a Saturday evening, the streetlights casting long, eerie shadows on the pavement. You clutch your phone in your hand, gripping it like a lifeline as your mind races.

Sunoo’s text flashes in your head: “Don’t make assumptions.”

But when Sunoo had told the others, they weren’t so sure. 

“Y/N, maybe you should stop and think,” your friend Jihoon had said on the phone. He had called you as soon as Sunoo relayed the information to him. “I mean, I don’t want to make you upset, but what if… what if Haechan’s just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you had snapped, cutting him off. “You think he’s cheating, don’t you?”

There had been a long pause on the other end before Jihoon finally said, “I mean, what else could it be? Sunoo said he was with some girl, right?”

You’d hung up after that, unable to handle the doubt in Jihoon’s voice. But then Giselle called, her tone softer but no less skeptical.

“Y/N, I’m worried about you,” she’d said. “I know you trust Hyuck, but... sometimes people surprise you. Maybe he’s not who you think he is.”

“He’s not cheating,” you’d insisted, though your voice had wavered. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Then where is he?” Minjeong asked, and for a moment, you’d felt your resolve crack.

But now, as you march down the sidewalk, your determination solidifies. You know Haechan. You know how much he loves you. And that phone call—the rushed tone, the way he kept cutting out—wasn’t the voice of someone sneaking around. It was the voice of someone in trouble. At least you thought so.

You stop at the corner of the street, glancing around desperately. There’s no sign of him. You dial his number again, only to be met with voicemail. Your heart pounds harder with each failed attempt to reach him.

Finally, with trembling hands, you call the police.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My boyfriend is missing,” you say, your voice breaking. “I think—I think something’s wrong. He called me earlier, and he sounded…nervous. And now his phone’s off, and my friend saw him with a strange woman—please, I need help.”

The dispatcher asks you a series of questions: Haechan’s description, the last place he was seen, the time of the call. You answer as best as you can, your voice growing shakier with every detail.

“We’ll send an officer to patrol the area,” the dispatcher says. “Please stay where you are and remain calm.”

But you can’t stay put. You hang up and keep walking, your eyes darting to every shadow, every alley.

“Y/N, stop.”

You turn to see Sunoo jogging up to you, his face etched with worry. Behind him are Jihoon and Giselle, who look less concerned and more resigned.

“We told you not to do anything rash. What are you doing?” Jihoon asks, crossing his arms. “The cops will handle it.”

“I can’t just stand around and wait!” you snap. “Something’s wrong, Jihoon. I can feel it.”

“What if there’s nothing wrong?” Giselle says carefully. “Y/N, what if he just… didn’t want you to know where he was going?”

“Stop,” Sunoo interjects, glaring at her. “I told you he looked nervous and scared. You weren’t there. You didn’t see what I saw.”

“Or maybe you’re overthinking it,” Jihoon mutters.

You shake your head, tears pricking your eyes. “I know Haechan. He wouldn’t do this to me. If he hasn’t come back, it’s because he can’t.”

Your voice cracks, and Sunoo places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll find him,” he says softly. “Let’s just keep looking.”

Jihoon sighs, but he and Giselle reluctantly follow as you start walking again. 

Haechan didn’t betray you. You were going to believe in this. And you’re going to find him, no matter what.

12 HOURS AFTER THE INCIDENT:

The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor is the first thing Haechan registers as he slowly comes to. His body feels heavy, his limbs weighted down as though they’re not his own. He tries to move, but the sharp sting radiating from his side stops him.

“Where…” he croaks, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His throat feels like sandpaper.

“You’re awake.”

The unfamiliar voice makes him flinch. His head turns slowly, and he squints through the bright, sterile light. A nurse stands by his bedside, adjusting the IV bag hanging from a metal pole. She’s wearing a kind smile, but there’s a shadow of concern in her eyes.

“Where am I?” he manages, his voice rasping.

“You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital,” she says gently. “You were brought in last night. Do you remember anything?”

His mind feels like it’s wrapped in fog. He struggles to piece together fragments of memory, but it’s all blurry—flashes of faces, the sound of a scream, and an overwhelming sense of fear. His stomach twists.

“I… I don’t know,” he admits. “What happened?”

The nurse hesitates. “You were found unconscious in the middle of the road. You have some injuries—a fractured rib, a concussion, and some deep bruising. You’re lucky someone called the paramedics when they did.”

Someone. Who? His thoughts race, but they’re disjointed, scattered.

“Was I… alone?” he asks, his voice trembling.

The nurse’s expression flickers with hesitation. “There were others. Two men—they were taken to surgery for more severe injuries—and a woman. She’s stable now but hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

Haechan’s breath catches. A woman. His mind scrambles for answers. The image of a smile—sharp, too wide—flickers in his memory, and a chill runs down his spine.

“Who… who is she?” he whispers.

“We don’t know yet,” the nurse replies. “The police are looking into it.”

Police.

His heart races, and the beeping of the monitor speeds up with it.

“Easy,” the nurse says quickly, pressing a hand to his shoulder to calm him. “Don’t push yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

Haechan squeezes his eyes shut, trying to slow his breathing. But his mind won’t stop spinning. Through the haze, he catches snippets of conversation from outside the room.

“…police said they found them restrained…”

“…looks like they were attacked…”

“…the woman was armed. Dangerous.”

Haechan’s stomach churns. He wants to ask, to demand answers, but his body betrays him, too weak to do anything but listen.

The nurse finishes adjusting the machines and steps back. “I’ll let the doctor know you’re awake. If you need anything, press the call button, okay?”

He nods faintly, though he doesn’t feel okay. Not even close.

2 HOURS BEFORE THE INCIDENT:

The bar is alive with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the faint hum of music from the jukebox in the corner. Haechan leans back in his seat, laughing at a joke Jaemin just cracked. His glass is nearly empty, condensation sliding down the sides as he swirls the last bit of his drink absently.

It’s been a good night. Lighthearted, carefree. Exactly what he needed after a long week.

But then, his phone vibrates on the table, cutting through the noise. Haechan picks it up, glancing at the screen casually. The glow of the display reflects in his eyes, and in an instant, the ease in his expression vanishes.

His smile falters. His face drains of color.

The others don’t notice at first, too caught up in their conversation. But as Haechan’s eyes scan the message, his fingers tighten around the phone, his knuckles turning white. His shoulders stiffen, and his breathing becomes shallow.

“Everything okay?” Jaemin asks, nudging him lightly.

Haechan doesn’t answer right away. His gaze is fixed on the screen, his lips pressed into a thin line. His thumb hovers over the screen as though debating whether to respond, but instead, he locks the phone and places it face down on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” he mutters, his voice low.

Jaemin frowns, his brows knitting together. “You good?”

Haechan forces a nod, though his expression betrays him. “Yeah. Just… need some air. Plus I need to make a quick call.”

Without waiting for a response, he grabs his jacket and stands, weaving through the crowded bar toward the exit. His movements are quick but shaky, his shoulders slightly hunched as if trying to make himself smaller.

As he passes by the bar, he doesn’t notice the woman from earlier sitting at the corner, watching him intently. She swirls her drink lazily, her red-painted nails tapping against the glass in a rhythmic pattern.

Her eyes follow him as he pushes open the door and steps into the cold night air. A smirk spreads across her face, sharp and knowing. She lifts her glass, taking a slow sip, and sets it down with deliberate precision.

Her fingers curl around the edge of the glass, tightening until her knuckles strain. The corners of her mouth twitch as if she’s holding back a laugh.

“Right on time,” she murmurs to herself, her voice drowned out by the noise of the bar.

30 MINUTES AFTER THE INCIDENT:

Flashing red and blue lights cast frantic, distorted shadows across the street, the wail of sirens blending with the hum of voices—police officers, paramedics, and onlookers.

You stand frozen at the edge of it all, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your chest feels like it’s caving in, your pulse racing so fast it blurs the world around you. It’s too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too real.

“Y/N!”

Sunoo’s voice snaps you out of your stupor. He reaches you in seconds, his hands gripping your shoulders as if to anchor you. “Breathe,” he urges, his voice trembling. “You have to breathe.”

But how can you? How can you breathe when the man you love might be—

You blink hard, tears streaming down your face, and your gaze shifts to the ambulance parked nearby. Paramedics wheel someone out on a stretcher, their face obscured by oxygen masks and bloodied bandages.

Haechan.

Your knees buckle, and Sunoo catches you before you hit the ground. “Stay with me,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “He’s alive, Y/N. He’s alive.”

But alive doesn’t mean okay. Alive doesn’t mean safe.

Jihoon and Giselle appear beside you, their faces pale and grim. Giselle’s hand wraps around yours, squeezing tightly. “We don’t know what happened,” she says, her voice hushed but firm. “But he’s in good hands now. They’ll do everything they can.”

You nod, but it’s hollow. Empty. The truth is, you don’t know if anything will be enough.

None of this adds up. And it’s eating at you.

The stretcher disappears into the ambulance, the doors slamming shut behind it. The sirens start again, louder this time, and you flinch as the vehicle speeds away into the night.

“What if this is it?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Giselle shakes her head. “Don’t think like that.”

But you can’t help it. Your mind spirals, filling in blanks with the worst possible scenarios. Did he crash his car? Was it an attack? Did that woman—

You double over, clutching your stomach as the weight of it all hits you. “I should’ve stopped him,” you sob. “I should’ve done something.”

“It’s not your fault,” Jihoon says firmly, though his own voice shakes. “Whatever happened, it’s not your fault.”

A police officer approaches, his face grim. “Are you Y/N?”

You nod, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “Yes. Is he—what happened? Is he okay?”

The officer hesitates, his eyes flickering to your friends before settling back on you. “We’re still piecing everything together, but… it doesn’t look like an accident.”

Your blood turns cold. “What do you mean?”

“We’ll need your statement,” the officer continues. “But for now, all I can say is… this was deliberate.”

The word hits you like a slap, leaving you breathless.

Deliberate.

“Do you know who might have done this?” the officer asks, pulling out a small notepad.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come out. Because the truth is, you don’t know. You don’t know who she is. You don’t know why Haechan was with her. And you don’t know why this happened.

As the officer steps away, your gaze shifts to the darkened street where it all began. The ambulance is gone, the chaos fading as the night swallows the scene whole.

And as your friends hold you in comfort, you can only wonder. How did everything go wrong?

part 2 maybe 😛😛 ?????

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[totalswag]

can i request rafe x fwb reader where reader finds out hes dating sofia and she goes to confront him that he didnt even have the decency to let her know their arrangement was over and he says "who said it was over?''

stuck in the middle - RAFE CAMERON

authors note as you guys may notice i'm finally publishing requests that you guys sent me. super sorry this was very late to publish. i hope you like what i wrote and it was what you hoped. so, thank you for sending this requests.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way and i will get to them and put them into my docs :) if you click on the bold red ink it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary you find out through people and social media sofia and rafe are together. you go to confront rafe about this since he never thought to tell you that your arrangement was over.

warnings friends with benefits, mentions of sex, cursing

Lately, you've been having this weird gut feeling in your stomach. No idea what the meaning behind it means but you want to find out what it could be. You started feeling this way whenever you were with Rafe on a random Wednesday.

Rafe and you have been friends with benefits for about three months now. When you two came to this agreement, you agreed that it was solely for your sexual pleasures and not to establish feelings for each other, and that the most important thing was to let each other know if one of you became serious with someone else so that the bargain could be broken off.

You overheard a rumor at a party this past Friday about Rafe and Sofia being together for a month. You couldn't believe your ears and wanted to vomit. Sofia works at the island's country club, and Rafe visits it from time to time.

The next day, you decided to do some research to be sure this was accurate. Even as you looked at her Instagram, the emotion returned. You checked her story highlights and discovered what you were looking for. Your stomach sank.

She had a couple pictures on her highlights that you knew were of Rafe, including one with his right hand on her thigh in his car and another with his back to her as he looks out into the distance. Based on what you discovered, they appeared serious.

What made you upset was the fact Rafe and you have been seeing each other for three months which meant he'd been with Sofia for who knows how long before he asked her to be his girlfriend.

"Why didn't he tell me?" You asked yourself, setting down your phone and running your hands through your hair, upset that you found out at random person at a party.

There's a part of you that doesn't want Rafe to be with Sofia. There's a part of you that wants him all to yourself. Regardless, he should've told you the arrangement was over.

That was the deal.

After thinking about what you should do, you decide you are confronting Rafe about this, tonight. You are gonna make it seem like you want to hookup but really you are telling him what you found out.

you- are you busy tonight? i wanna see you

rafe- funny you say that because i wanna see you too

rafe- meet me at the spot at 9pm.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell your mom as you go past the living room, holding your keys. "I'm going to hang out with Samantha."

"That's fine, sweetie; please stay safe tonight, I love you," your mother adds, smiling.

When you get to the spot you see Rafe sitting in his car on his phone. You parked your car next to him so he knows it's you- when he sees you get out, he unlocks the car.

You sigh casually as you sit in the passenger seat.

Rafe says smiling "Hey pretty girl" in a tone that makes you weak in the knees, leaning over the center console to kiss you but you pull back.

"We need to have a little chat, Rafe," maintaining eye contact.

His smile fades, and he looks at you, puzzled, "What do you mean?" His response indicated that he was nervous or knew what was going to happen.

"Why didn't you tell me you and Sofia were together, Rafe? You never once said to my face, "Y/N, we can no longer meet up like this anymore because I have a girlfriend now," mimicking Rafe's voice, "we've been hooking up this entire time while you've been in this relationship that I had no idea about until I heard someone talking about it," you explain frustratedly in your voice and expressions.

In the midst of your rant towards him, he places his hand over his lips, chuckles, shakes his head, and looks down at his lap.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?" You ask, folding your arms, leaning back against the passenger door, annoyed.

He glances up from his lap, licks his bottom lip, and smirks: "Who said it was over?"

Before you could respond his lips were already on yours.

my taglist

if you would like be in my taglist to be notified whenever i post please let me know if there's a line on your username, that means i couldn't find your account

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight @brooklynscherry-z @kaydsr3venge @johannelis2302nely @chenslucy

[woso-dreamzzz]

Allergies II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: You have another allergic reaction

In all honesty, you didn't really think it was that serious.

Nutrition meetings at Barcelona were a lot more in depth than what you were used to at Arsenal. They took ages and were full of information that would probably be interesting if you actually cared but, alas, nutrition had never been as interesting to you as other subjects so you tended to just zone out.

You were handed a new smoothie with some kind of new protein powder in or something you would have known if you actually listened.

You drank it.

That's when things start to get weird.

The nutritionist continues to drone on and you frown, scratching at your neck.

You stare down at your bottle for a moment as your throat goes all scratchy and intense.

You force yourself to swallow before glancing around.

Your throat gets a bit tighter.

No one else seems to be having such a reaction so you unscrew the top of your bottle to peer inside. You sniff the mixture before standing up.

You can feel people watch as you make your way over to the first aid kit at the front of the room. Your throat has fully closed up now and you know that you're turning alarmingly red and probably breaking out in hives.

Honestly, you feel a little bit shocked how you're even conscious right now but you grab your epipen and stab it into your leg.

"Banana," You say plainly," I can't eat that."

Even with the adrenaline now pumping through your system, you slide your way down the wall to sit on the floor, breathing in deeply.

The room erupts into chaos the moment you sit down.

The medical staff come in to check your blood pressure and your throat and the expiration date of your epipen. The nutritionist leading the session is going absolutely ballistic yelling at one of her assistants for not checking the allergy sheets before making and handing out the smoothies.

Talia looks close to tears as she forces her way towards you, practically shoving some of the medics away. "Are you okay? Is it bad? Do I need to call your mums?"

"No! Don't call my-"

Talia's already gone out into the hall, phone pressed up against her ear.

You wonder which one of your mothers she has in her contacts.

Surely not Morsa because she's still in that stage where she's pretending to hate your girlfriend but you can't remember your Momma and Talia interacting enough to have swapped numbers and you know for certain that you weren't one to hand out people's numbers without explicit permission.

As the medics fuss and the nutritionist yells, the team also gather around to check that you're alright but you just give them a gallant shrug.

"I'm fine," You say," The epipen did its work."

"I think I'd prefer if you take the day off," The head of the medical team says," Just to be safe. You can come back tomorrow."

You know better than to argue with him so you just nod with a little sigh of annoyance.

"I can take her home," Talia says as she re-enters the room," I've got her."

"I can take a taxi home," You insist.

You and Talia drive in together so only one car is used. If you go home in that car now then she'll have to get a taxi in the middle of rush hour.

"I'll take you home," Talia says," Coach can spare me at training today. Someone's got to make sure you actually follow medical advice."

You roll your eyes. "I swear you've been hanging out with my Momma behind my back." You take the hand she offers to help you stand. "You sound just like her."

You end up back home fairly quickly, curled up on the sofa and practically forced to take a nap.

Prins joins you, curled up in the bend of your knee. Reina settles on the top of the sofa behind your head, completely stretched out and at ease with herself while Kung manages to wiggle himself between your arms to nap there.

You don't know how long you nap for but it must be a while because the sun is setting when you wake up and you can smell Talia cooking up your favourite pasta dish in the world.

You sit up.

You've definitely been sleeping for a while because Reina has migrated to her cat tree, poking her head out of the cave to watch Kung bounce around the floor in outrage at not being allowed up there with her.

Prins has taken Kung's place between your arms and his tongue rolls out of his mouth in a semblance of a dopey smile when he notices you awake, his tail beginning to wag happily.

"Hi, little man," You say, gently scratching between his ears," Did you keep me company?"

Prins' tail wags even more fiercely than before.

"Didn't want to leave your side."

You jolt, shrieking and Prins whines a little.

"Morsa! What are you doing here?!"

"Talia called your Momma," Morsa says, tucking the blanket more firmly around your body," Your allergies acted up."

"I dealt with it," You insist," You didn't have to fly out."

"Yes, we did," Morsa replies," Because if we waited for you to tell us, it would take weeks!"

You puff out your cheeks. "I wouldn't want to worry you over something so silly."

"Are you calling your allergies silly again?" Momma says. She enters with two plates worth of food and you sit up.

Prins leaps down to wander over to his own dog bed. Seeing him lying there, Kung wanders over, jumping up onto Prins' back to finish napping there as Reina ducks her head back into her cave.

"No, Momma," You mumble, accepting your food as Morsa takes a seat on the armchair and Momma to the left of you, leaving an empty space for Talia, who also brings out food for herself and Morsa before taking her own seat.

"Are you feeling better, mi vida?" She asks," You look better."

You nod. "I feel fine. My leg aches a little but that's expected."

"We'll put an icepack on it once we've finished eating. Prins was very worried about you."

Prins raises his head at the mention of his name, tail wagging.

"He's good boy."

Morsa grins from across the room. "I knew getting you a dog was a good idea."

Momma scoffs. "You told me that we should have gotten her a fish."

Morsa coughs to clear her throat and mumbles," Don't lie, Pernille."

"You wanted to get me a fish?" You laugh in disbelief," And you say Rocky is the most disappointing pet in the world."

"Are you really saying your pet rock is more exciting than a fish?"

"Am I?" You pretend to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am."

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Having The Same Abilities As Wolverine

Requested: Heyy! Can I request a the boys preference where reader is a supe who pretty much has wolverine's powers? Ty!! - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: Hii can I request the boys pref x female wolverine? <33 - anon

A/N: Reminder my loves! Everything is written as gender neutral, I don't write specifically freader or mreader. I hope you like it! I am working 100% from Wolverines Wikipedia page lol since I forget most of his powers. Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher finds your abilities both disgusting and impressive. Your super sight, smell, etc. are really helpful in certain situations. He jokingly calls you their own personal Tek Knight, which you shut down immediately. What's disgusting is when your claws come out, breaking through the skin of your knuckles. There's a lot of blood. There's a lot of pain even with your healing. And something about them just freaks him out. You jokingly try to poke him with them, touch him with them, and though he'd never admit it, he absolutely hates the feeling. There's just something wrong about them that he can't pinpoint or describe. They're helpful for sure and watching you use them is always gory, he'd just like for them to go away as quickly as possible.

Hughie finds you fascinating. The healing and the claws are always cool, but it's the fact that you're so much older than all of them, so much more experienced, and yet you age so little. Because you're body heals so well, you age at a slower rate than the rest of the world. While that's not totally new for Supes, he's always interested in hearing about your life. You have so much knowledge, so many more experiences, so many lives lived before this mess took over. You find it the least interesting part of your abilities, but Hughie's always had an appreciation for the underappreciated. He loves to listen to you talk about the past, what the world was like, what Vought and The Seven were like. It wasn't always this fucked, at least that's the conclusion he comes to as you talk. It was fucked, it was a mess, but the introduction of Homelander really set in stone this future.

Annie is your confidant. The healing factor has saved your and others lives countless times, but everyone forgets you can still feel pain. Long after your body has put itself back together, the phantom pain lingers. It's excruciating and, secretly, you live in fear of being torn apart. Days and weeks later, you move as if you're still broken. You'll wake up, confused for a moment, expecting to be torn limb from limb, before you come to your senses. Even your claws leave your hands raw, arthritic. You know Annie thinks about that more than anyone else. You told her one night about the pain and since then she's always been aware, quietly asking you if you're alright. Sometimes the pain goes away in a few hours, other times it takes weeks. It all depends on the severity. You try not to complain, knowing you must sound like a broken record, but she doesn't see it that way.

M.M., kind of like Butcher, is weirded out by your claws. He doesn't mind the healing or the heightened senses. For the most part, those things are hidden. It's the claws he gets the heebie jeebies from. You poke fun at him because of this. Out of all the Supe abilities you could have gotten, claws aren't the oddest thing you could have developed. He is reminded of Webweavers abilities and that puts things into perspective for a little while. He didn't trust you in the beginning. It was hard to show him you weren't just another Supe hopped up on V. You're a lot older than everyone, you've experienced more, you're wiser than he gives you credit for. He learns to trust you because of your level head. In situations where other people would be losing their shit, you're calm, cool, and collected. It isn't your abilities that make him befriend you, it's the person underneath them.

Frenchie both loves and hates your abilities. He finds your claws fascinating. Every time you use them he's left in awe. He loves watching you use them, the way you can hide them and bring them out when they're least expecting it. He doesn't find them weird or odd like his friends. They're amazing. He hates, though, that your heightened senses are basically a lie detector test he fails every time. You know when he's been drinking, smoking, getting high. You try not to make a big deal about it, but you do talk to him about it in private. You know when he's lying, though any non-Supe could figure it out when they learn all his tells. He's not as good as he thinks he is at lying. He's always amazed with your stamina, too. It's something a lot of people tend to overlook about your powers, but he doesn't.

Kimiko and you bond effortlessly. Your abilities are so similar and yet so different. Together you're a fantastic duo, unstoppable. She likes touching your claws, though hates the way they have to come out. She knows what it's like, to have to sacrifice yourself, your body, for the greater good. She knows what it's like to wake up confused and, for a moment, feeling as if you're missing parts of yourself. The two of you work together effortlessly and find a lot of humor in your abilities whereas everyone else sees a severed limb of broken bones, you can see just how silly the body is, how fragile and easily it both breaks and repairs itself. She loves your heightened senses and always tells her what you can find out: M.M. got a new chapstick (strawberry), Butcher ate something with peppers, Annie got Hughie a new cologne, etc.

[hetalian-veteran]

Hetalia Sleep Headcanons

Here, have my headcanons about how the Hetalia characters sleep because I'm still awake at this ungodly hour of the night.

🇮🇹Italy needs to cling to something to sleep well. Whether it be a pillow, a plushie, or another person, the poor guy needs something or someone there to cuddle.

🇩🇪Germany has really bad insomnia and can only get at most four or five hours of sleep a night, and that's if he's lucky. But when he does sleep, he probably sleeps on his back, still as the grave.

🇯🇵Japan also sleeps on his back and is so still and quiet that every now and then, someone comes by to check and see if he really is asleep and not dead.

🇮🇹Romano sleeps on his side with his arms sort of stretched outward, almost as if he's reaching for someone. That, or he's dreaming of beating someone up. You know, one or the other.

⚔️Prussia will lay down on his back and fall asleep that way. However, he's the kind of guy who moves around a lot in his sleep. So when he wakes up, he's sort of on his face and stretched out like a starfish.

🇪🇸Spain sleeps like a freaking baby and gets a full nine hours every night. Lucky son of a gun.

🇬🇧England has a pretty hard time quieting his mind down enough to get to sleep. So he spends his nights slowly sipping on a cup of tea to try and calm himself down enough to get some shut-eye.

🇺🇸America moves around, twists, and rolls over so often in his sleep that when he wakes up, he typically finds himself tangled up in his blankets. Sometimes, he accidentally rolls out of bed.

🇫🇷France can only sleep if the room is completely dark. Like, pitch black. He also sleeps on his side and sometimes hums a little in his sleep.

🇨🇳China has insomnia pretty bad and, as a result, will often find himself staying up at night drinking tea. When he can sleep, however, he sort of curls up into a ball under the covers.

🇷🇺Russia sleeps on his back and stays in that position the entire night. Sometimes giggles and smiles a little in his sleep.

🇨🇦Canada needs several layers of heavy blankets to sleep, as well as something or someone to cuddle.

🇩🇰Denmark sleeps on his side and has sometimes been heard singing in his sleep, though nobody has been able to make out what exactly he's singing. He also occasionally snores.

🇸🇪Sweden usually falls asleep whilst looking through Ikea catalogs. They seem to really help calm his mind.

🇫🇮Finland often smiles while he sleeps, sometimes even giggling a little every now and again. He also sleeps best when listening to some of the most intense, heavy metal you've ever heard.

🇳🇴Norway plays white noise and curls up into a ball under a couple of layers of thick, heavy blankets. He probably hugs a pillow, thinking of the days when Iceland used to call him big brother as a little kid.

🇮🇸Iceland can only get to sleep in total darkness and in total silence. He's also a light sleeper, so anybody walking around the room will immediately wake him up.

🇭🇺Hungary sleeps like an actual normal person. I really don't know how else to describe it. Though she has been heard saying some pretty weird crap in her sleep before.

🇦🇹Austria sleeps best if he has soft classical music playing. Unfortunately for him, Prussia hacked into his playlist and threw in some of Finland's heavy metal songs.

🇱🇮Liechtenstein is a fairly light sleeper. She's also afraid of the dark, so she typically has a nightlight somewhere in her room.

🇨🇭Switzerland is also another character with insomnia. This is because he is low-key paranoid about making sure the entire house is locked up before he goes to bed at night. He wants to make sure he and Liechtenstein are safe.

[nadvs]

hii i love your writhing so so so so so much and i was wondering if you could do something a little angsty for basketball rafe at the end of there college days before rafe gets drafted and him and reader fight about ther future like reader is saying your gonna be able to do all this great stuff what am i supposed to do or smth like that 💕💕 ANYWAYS LOVE YOUR WRITTING!!

aw, thank you so much babe 🥹 i love writing about their college days!! i have a blurb here about how they handle him leaving but i haven’t written in detail how the first bad fight about it goes 👀

» au masterlist

when rafe gets the news that he’ll be drafted, she feels guilty for having a sense of worry gnawing at her. she should be overjoyed for her boyfriend, and while she is happy that his career is soaring to such an impressive height, she’s scared of what it means for them.

she still has a year left of college. he’s moving to a city that’s a three-hour flight away. she’s staying put, while his life is changing immensely. in a matter of two weeks, he’ll be gone and things will change.

it’s a cold night when they’re lying in his bed watching tv, the wind rattling the windows. rafe’s one-way flight is in a couple of days. almost everything’s already packed up, the bedroom nearly bare.

underneath the elation of making it professionally, rafe hates that the trade-in for following his dreams is leaving his girl. everyone and everything else will be easy to leave. but not her.

she’s been keeping her emotions under wraps. she feels wrong for hiding them from him, considering they’ve always prided themselves on having an honest relationship, but she doesn’t want to ruin such a big moment for him.

he’s leaning against the bed’s headboard while she rests on his chest. her mind is racing with worries that he’ll find something, or really someone, better than her. nearly six months together feels like a strong enough commitment, a solid enough foundation, but what if it’s not enough?

“what do you think long distance is gonna be like?” rafe mumbles.

they haven’t talked about it. not really. he knows they’re both dreading the conversation. for two people who started a relationship built on directness, they’re great at being in denial.

“i was just thinking about that,” she admits, still blankly staring ahead at the screen. “i don’t know. what do you think?”

rafe’s hand drags up and down her arm. two more days and everything changes. she won’t be a short drive away anymore. her touch, her smell, her everything won’t be accessible. she’ll be reduced to an image on a screen, a voice through a speaker.

“i’m freaked out,” he admits. he’s so afraid of losing her that it hurts. but she stiffens under his touch. she doesn’t agree like he expected.

“are you not confident that we’ll be able to handle it?” she asks.

her mind is a tangled mess. she’s nervous herself, but him being nervous doesn’t feel fair. he’s the one leaving. he’s the one starting a new life. nothing will be changing on her end. everything will be changing on his.

“it’s not that,” rafe says. “stuff will just be… different.”

“of course it will,” she says. she sits up to meet his gaze, her eyes already glossing with tears. “i’ll be stuck here and you’re…”

she shakes her head in frustration.

“what do you mean by freaked out?” she asks tersely.

“i mean that it’s weird that we’re not going to see each other all the time like we do now,” he states. “why are you pissed at me?”

she looks up to the ceiling, exhaling sharply. she hates it, how on edge she’s been, how she can’t just shut her worries up and feel happy for him and be sure they’ll make it.

“i’m not,” she sighs. it’s one of the things she really doesn’t like about her boyfriend. he senses the tiniest bit of frustration and he pulls at it like a string, trying to understand her but in the most pushy way.

“yeah, obviously,” he says sarcastically. her tone is so clearly irritated. what could he have possibly done wrong?

“it’s just that freaked out sounds like…” she begins. “like maybe you don’t think we’ll stay together.”

“when did i say that?” rafe scoffs, pulling his arm off of her.

her heart aches now that his touch is gone. this is how it’s always going to be when he leaves. he won’t be at an arm’s length anymore. he’ll be off in a big city, making money, meeting people more impressive than her, girls prettier than her.

rafe stares down at his lap, clenching his jaw. he doesn’t want to say anything he’ll regret. not when he’s leaving so soon. over the time they’ve been dating, he’s gotten a little better at reigning in his temper.

but this accusatory tone of hers, this implication that he doesn’t care to make this work, stings.

“for fuck’s sake,” he whispers sharply. “i don’t get why you’re mad at me.”

“i hate when you do this,” she says. “don’t say i’m mad when i’m not.”

“you can honestly say you’re not right now?” he meets her eyes. “really?”

she bites her lip. it’s so much more than mad. she’s scared. she’s insecure. she swallows the lump in her throat.

“your new life will be amazing. maybe you’re freaked out because you know you won’t want any part of your old life. including me.”

“wow,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “i…”

rafe trails into silence. he has a reputation for being a dick. he knows that. he’s fine with it. but hearing the girl he’s fallen in love with imply that he’d toss her to the side like that, like he’s heartless, is gut-wrenching.

“what?” she says.

“i can’t believe you,” he says. “i just wanted to talk to you. not get words put in my mouth and fucking fight about it.”

“you’re turning this into a fight, calling me pissed off when i’m not,” she counters.

for once, rafe doesn’t have a rebuttal. he always does. he always has his next words waiting in his throat during an argument, but this… this is too much. he started an innocent conversation about how he feels. and it turned into this.

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he mutters.

a tear finally falls down her cheek. he hasn’t denied that he might not want her anymore. maybe her pessimism about any relationship working out for her isn’t totally misguided. right now, it feels like she’s looking at a man who simply doesn’t care.

and she told him that, plenty of times before, how sometimes she fears that a happy ending might just not be in the cards for her.

rafe stays silent as they sit on his bed. it eats away at her.

“if breaking up is inevitable, we might as well do it now,” she murmurs, partly out of spite, but mostly out of defeat.

rafe’s eyes dart up to meet hers again. the wound he thought she patched up, the one that convinced him over and over that she’ll leave him, rips open.

“were you ever really in this in the first place?” he accuses her, his face twisting in anger. “or did you always think i was gonna disappoint you like every other guy?”

she scoffs in disbelief. the string of tension that they’ve both been walking on since draft night has snapped.

he shouldn’t have said that. she shouldn’t have said what she said, either. but it’s too late. they’re both tense. they’re both too short-tempered.

“no. i’m sorry,” she says weakly. “i’m just… this is so hard. already. i’m worried about us.”

she rests her forehead on her hand, trying to rein in her rushing emotions. rafe’s stare softens as he watches her shoulders start to gently tremble with her cries.

“hey,” rafe says quietly, pushing past his pride, gripping the back of her hand. “come here.”

she lets him pull her forward, collapsing in his arms, her cheek against his firm chest.

“breaking up isn’t inevitable,” he murmurs. “i don’t want to hear you say stuff like that.”

“i know,” she whispers. “i know. just… promise me you won’t change your mind.”

“i promise, baby.” he kisses her forehead, meeting her eyes again.

they both know they need to talk about this. really talk about it, instead of snapping at each other and then brushing it away so quickly. but it hurts too much right now and they’d rather exist in a reality where they’re in the same town, able to see each other whenever they want.

the future still feels shaky to her, but she lets herself melt into his touch, hoping if she pretends she has no doubts, that they’ll eventually go away.

she cuddles into him again, silent, wishing time with him didn’t always go by so fast.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Steve is terrified.

Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.

Then he woke up in school in 1984.

He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.

Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”

Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.

He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.

He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.

She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.

Robin’s pencil lead snaps.

Steve freezes.

He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.

She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.

She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”

She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”

He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.

He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.

She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”

“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”

“Yeah.” Robin sighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”

I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

Me @ all of you:

[writingwithciara]

wanna be -nico hischier-

summary: knowing he can't be her first boyfriend, nico wants to be the first for everything else. but does y/n feel the same?

word count: 2.2k

pairings: nico hischier x reader

notes:

masterlist

"nico, i just don't understand what i did wrong this time." y/n's voice came out as strangled sobs through the speakers in nico's car.

"nothing. you did nothing wrong." nico assured her as he looked out the window. he slowed to a stop just outside y/n's apartment building and waited. "come down and we can go for a ride. i know that always cheers you up."

"i'll be down in a minute." she sniffled and grabbed her hoodie. she made sure to wipe her eyes, even though nico already knew she was crying.

nico waited by the passenger door for y/n and when he saw her, he helped her get in before going back to the driver's seat.

"so, where are we driving to?"

"out of town for a few nights, if that's okay with you."

"i don't have anything packed."

"don't you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. i have an old practice jersey and some sweats you can borrow for the night. and i'll take you shopping in the morning." he glanced at her and smiled.

"okay." she let a smile creep onto her face. "so now that i know we're going out of town, where exactly are we going?"

"atlantic city." he smiled and handed her the aux cord. if there was anything he had learned over the past few years of knowing her, it was that when she was upset, she liked to pick the music.

"why atlantic city?"

"well i was already going to go there for a few days. in fact, i was almost out of town when you called me."

"oh. didn't mean to interrupt your fun." she sulked.

"nonsense. if anything, you being here made it fun. seriously, who goes to atlantic city alone?"

"guys who need to get laid, i guess." she glanced over at him. "wait, was that what you were planning?"

"what? no. don't be ridiculous." he chuckled, but y/n wasn't buying it. "okay fine. maybe i was hoping for it a little bit. but it wasn't my main goal."

"don't let me stop you from having your fun, then." she smiled and got more comfortable in her seat. "in fact, i think i might try to find someone too. god knows i could use it."

"what do you mean?"

"it means i'm a 24 year old virgin, nico. i've had like 2 boyfriends my entire life and only 1 freaking kiss. how pathetic is that?"

"i don't think it's pathetic at all."

"you don't have to be nice about it. i know it's weird."

"okay, maybe a little." he stopped at a light. "but weird is good. if everyone was normal, the world would be boring."

"oh how i love your never ending optimism." she turned slightly in her seat to face him. "thank you, by the way. you're the only person i know who would go out of their way to come rescue me, even if you had plans."

"priorities, dove." he reached for her hand and smiled a little to himself when she squeezed his in return.

the rest of the drive to atlantic city was mostly silent. but when nico got closer to the hotel, he broke the silence & scared y/n.

"so i know you told me you didn't want to spend another moment thinking about that asshole, but i can tell that he's on your mind right now and i want to know if there's anything i can do to make you forget about him."

"nico, you're sweet. really you are. but there's only one thing i need right now and that's to go soak in a tub for an hour."

"okay. hot tub or bathtub?"

"whatever one works. i would like some company though so i'm hoping there's a hot tub."

"it's atlantic city. i'm sure there is a hot tub. but if not, i booked a suite so the tub in the bathroom is about the size of a hot tub. we could just wear our swimsuits in there."

"oh crap. i don't have a swimsuit."

"then when we get to the hotel, i'll run a bath for you and while you're relaxing, i'll go down to the shop and pick one out for you."

"nico, you don't have to go through all this trouble for me."

"that's what friends are for, right? to cheer their other friends up?"

"you're right." she smiled and got out of the car when he parked. he grabbed his bag and looked at her.

"so, relaxing tonight and shopping tomorrow?"

"you bet." y/n waited for nico to check in and when he got the key, she followed him into the elevator.

"before i forget, there's a king size bed. you can have it. there's also a couch & for this trip, i will be sleeping there."

"nico, we have shared a bed before. an even smaller bed, might i add. so sharing a king should be a piece of cake."

"okay, fair point." nico chuckled. when the elevator opened up to their floor, nico let y/n exit first. he followed her to their room and he unlocked the door.

the room was way bigger than nico anticipated. he watched as y/n walked over to the balcony doors. she opened them and stepped outside.

"this is beautiful, nico." she breathed in the fresh air and nico admired the way her hair flowed in the breeze. he didn't want to admit it but he knew he was attracted to his best friend. always had been.

he just didn't want to say anything because he knew she wouldn't reciprocate the feelings.

he must've zoned out because before he knew it, y/n was waving her hand in his face. he chuckled and looked back out at the city.

"and he's back." she smiled and leaned against the railing beside him. "what were you thinking about?"

"the breathtaking view." he glanced over at her. "sorry about that, by the way."

"it's alright, neeks." y/n looked at him. "so, i noticed there was a hot tub. wanna go down and sit in it for a bit with me?"

"yeah, sure." nico pushed himself away from the railing and paused at the door. "we need to get you something to wear though."

"oh, right. i completely forgot about that." she scratched her arm. "maybe we should just stay in tonight then."

"are you sure?" he looked back at her and she nodded. "well, if that's what you want, i can still run that bath for you and you can relax in there for a bit."

"thank you, nico." y/n sat on the edge of the bed and waited as nico went into the bathroom and ran the bath water.

"hey y/n?"

"yeah?"

"rose blossom or lavender sugar?"

"rose blossom, i guess." she picked at her finger nails and waited until she heard the water turn off. nico walked out of the room and saw her picking at her fingers.

"you alright?" he asked calmly

"what?" she stood up and walked towards him. "yeah. i'm fine." she walked into the bathroom and started taking her clothes off.

"i'm gonna go down to the shop to see if i can find a swimsuit for you. are you good here by yourself?" nico asked through the closed door.

"yes. thank you nico." she smiled and leaned her head against the side of the tub.

30 minutes later, y/n was slowly drifting off to sleep but was interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door.

"you alright in there?"

"yeah. just relaxed and a little sleepy."

"why don't you get out of the tub and get into some comfy clothes? we can watch a movie and fall asleep."

"okay. i'll be out in a minute." she started climbing out of the tub and when she grabbed a towel, she realized she didn't have anything to change into. "um, nico?"

"yes, sweetheart?"

"i don't have anything to wear tonight."

"got my jersey and some sweats for you out here. want me to bring them to you?"

"yeah. just one second." she wrapped herself in the towel just in time for nico to open the door. he was holding the clothes in one hand and covering his eyes with the other. "thank you." y/n smiled as she took the clothes from nico. "i'll be out in a minute."

nico closed the door and went back to the bed. he flipped through netflix and found a movie he knew y/n loved. when she finally came out of the bathroom, nico tried his best to not stare at her but with the way his old practice jersey hung off her body, he couldn't help but admire her. he also found it a little funny that his sweatpants were incredibly loose on her and she had to hold them up as she climbed onto the bed. she struggled a little bit so nico held her arm to help.

"there you go." he chuckled when she wiggled herself under the blanket.

"oh, this is comfy." y/n pulled the blanket tighter, causing nico to laugh again.

"you look so adorable." nico tapped the edge of her nose and she glared over at him. her face immediately turned red and she tried to hide it.

"thank you."

"you're welcome." he turned back to the tv and pressed play.

sixteen candles

"oh, you remembered my favorite movie."

"of course i did." he smiled and opened his arms. he started second guessing his decision but when y/n made herself comfortable against him, he held her close.

as the movie played, y/n watched it intently but nico's attention stayed on her the entire time. he twirled some of her hair between his fingers and and with the other arm, he slowly stroked up and down her arm. she sighed with content and turned to look up at him.

"thank you for tonight, nico. i really needed to relax and let off some steam."

"hey. no problem. i love helping you. and if anyone deserves to let off some steam, it's you."

without warning, y/n leaned up and kissed him. but just as quickly as it started, it ended. she pulled away from him and put a little distance between them.

"oh my god. i am so sorry. i just got caught up in the moment and i just....i'm so sorry." she put her head in her hands and was not prepared for what came next.

nico gently picked her up and placed her on his lap. "you do not need to apologize, y/n. especially not for kissing me." he looked at her lips and chuckled lightly. "you're so effortlessly perfect."

"i'm really not." she hid her face with her hair and nico moved it out of the way.

"yes, you are. and i know the reason you don't believe it is because the 2 guys you dated before, and every other guy in your life made you feel that way. but it's true. you're so incredibly beautiful and you have the biggest heart of anyone i know. why nobody has realized this, is beyond my understanding. but if i have to spend the rest of my life trying to make you see how special you are, then i'll do that."

"really?"

"yeah." he whispered softly and looked up at her. before she could reject the idea, nico closed the gap between them and kissed her. it started slow and passionate but quickly escalated. intensity flowed between them as their tongues battled against each other.

y/n pulled away and swiftly removed the jersey from her body. when she noticed nico staring at her, she leaned back a little more. "i-is this okay with you?"

"of course. but only if you're comfortable with it."

"you're the only person i'm comfortable with." she leaned back in to kiss him passionately. nico's hands moved up and down her sides as she continued to press herself into him.

neither of them could believe what they were about to do, but it was obvious they both wanted it more than they've wanted anything else in their lives.

as they shed the rest of their clothes, the event that started off sweet and slow quickly turned passionate and intense. y/n may have had doubts about being a virgin at 24, but now she's glad she waited. to her, there was no one more perfect to lose it to than the man she trusted with her entire life.

after an intense hour, they collapsed on the bed. the breath leaving both of them at a rapid pace.

y/n turned to face nico and smiled. "wow. that was...perfect. thank you nico."

"if anything, i should be thanking you."

"really? why's that?"

"that was the best sex i've ever had. hard to believe it was your first time."

"r-really?" y/n couldn't help but blush at his comment. "you really know how to make a girl feel special."

"i love you." nico blurted out. "i always have and i think it's pretty obvious now."

"yes. i would say so." she giggled and kissed him softly. "in case it's not obvious enough at this point, i love you too."

"good." nico moved the hair from her face and smiled. "i'm going to take you on a real date when we get back home."

"looking forward to it." y/n climbed back on top of him and kissed him again. and again. and again.

to the both of them, the night couldn't get anymore perfect.

[scary-grace]

the crying game - a shigaraki x f!reader oneshot

You gave up on love a long time ago, but you keep getting invited to weddings, and after eleven receptions spent at the single's table, you're almost at the end of your rope -- until first-time wedding guest Shigaraki Tomura asks you to show him how it's done. (5.7k words, modern AU, no quirks.)

This fic is for @arslansenkai, who saw my milestone post and requested the prompts ‘holding hands’ + ‘listening to the other’s heartbeat’ + ‘whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin’ from this list. Thank you so much for the prompt! I really enjoyed writing it and I swear all three of your prompts made it in here or there.

You hate weddings. You don’t remember when you started hating them, but you know why you started – right around the time when you realized that you’d never have another one of your own, that you’d always be attending someone else’s, and doing that all by yourself, too. Add in the cost of a new dress and new shoes (God forbid you wear the same thing twice in one year) and travel accommodations and a wedding present, and weddings become a big, expensive, depressing waste of a weekend. No matter how much you like the people who are getting married.

And you do like them, this time, even though they’re the twelfth couple from your department at Ultra, Inc. to get married in the last three years. Ochako and Himiko are the kind of couple who shouldn’t make sense, but somehow do – the kind of against-all-odds couple who’d make you believe in love if you didn’t know better. You were rooting for them, you’re glad they’re together, and getting their save-the-date still made you want to drown yourself in the toilet. You opted to drown in vodka instead. You need help.

You need help, and you’re going to get it. After this wedding. So you can figure out how to say no the next time you get an invite. Because out of all the indignities about going single to a wedding, getting stuck at the same table at the wedding reception as the other people who couldn’t snare a date is possibly the worst.

Most couples have at least a few single friends, but Himiko and Ochako are the last of their respective circles to couple up. Or almost-last. The singles table at their wedding included exactly five people at the start of the reception. You, an older woman named Magne, a guy your age whose place-card says Todoroki Touya but insisted that he goes by Dabi, another guy your age whose place-card says Takami Keigo but insisted you call him Hawks, and one more guy your age whose place-card says Shigaraki Tomura and who barely looked up when you introduced yourself.

It wasn’t the worst singles table you’d ever sat at, at the start. Then Magne bailed to sit with somebody she knew at a different table, and Dabi and Hawks hit it off and then snuck off to God knows where, and then it was just you and Shigaraki sitting at your table in the far back corner of the reception hall. That’s how it’s been for an hour, and the only interaction the two of you have had is when you’ve passed the table’s bottle of champagne back and forth, filling your glasses and then draining them out of sync. It’s depressing. After going to eleven weddings in two years, you can hang in there with the best of them, but you’re pretty sure you’re about to crack.

Your glass is empty, and when you reach for the bottle, you find that it’s empty, too. You want to get more, but you’re not going to look like a lush in front of your weird tablemate. “Hey,” you say, and Shigaraki looks up from the screen of his Switch. “This is empty. I’ll go get more if you want it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Shigaraki says. You raise your eyebrows. “This will suck just as bad whether I’m wasted or not.”

“Yeah,” you admit. “But then you’ll be able to pretend it sucks because you’re wasted, not because you’re stuck at the singles table yet again.”

“Yet again? Sounds like you’re projecting,” Shigaraki says. You shrug. It would hurt more if you hadn’t heard the same thing from at least one person at the last three weddings you went to – usually towards the end of the reception, usually when everybody’s getting weepy and ridiculous. You’re ahead of schedule this time. “Sure. I’ll take more.”

Two tables over, a group of happy couples have abandoned their champagne bucket in favor of the dance floor – or the photo booth, or something. You swap your empty bottle for their full one and come back over, hoping Shigaraki will have gone back to his game and forgotten you existed. No such luck. He’s sitting up, watching you, as you sit down, fill your glass, and slide the bottle back across the table to Shigaraki. “Yet again,” he repeats. You down half your glass in a single swallow. “I’m only halfway through the first one of these stupid things I’ve been to and I’m already done. How many times have you put yourself through it?”

“Eleven,” you say. Shigaraki’s red eyes widen. “No, that’s just people from work. If I count friends from school, it’s, uh – sixteen.”

“If you’re this miserable, stop going.”

“Is that what you do?” you challenge. “When your friends invite you to celebrate the happiest day of their lives, you just don’t go?”

“My friends know better than to invite me to shit like this.” Shigaraki copies you and drains half his glass in one go. “I wouldn’t have come to this one, except Toga critical-hit me with this guilt trip about how we’re her family and she needs her family to be here –”

You did notice a conspicuous lack of parents or relatives on Toga’s side of the aisle. “And I said I’d go if I didn’t have to go alone,” Shigaraki continues. “Dabi was supposed to be doing time with me. Figures he’d score a hookup and bolt.”

“I didn’t know you knew each other,” you say. They barely talked when Dabi was sitting here. “How do you know Himiko?”

“Juvie,” Shigaraki says, and you’re not sober enough to keep the surprise from showing all over your face. He snickers. “Not what you expected?”

You shake your head. “Is that where you know Dabi from?”

“And Spinner,” Shigaraki says, pointing out a purple-haired guy at a different table. “And Twice. Magne was a peer counselor or something. If I hadn’t met them I probably would have killed myself in there.”

You can’t stop your surprise from showing this time, either. Shigaraki grimaces. “Don’t read into that.”

“No promises,” you say. Shigaraki snorts and lifts his glass partway, then drains it. “So you’ve known each other for a while.”

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re friends with the girlfriend. Wife.” Shigaraki refills his glass again, but leaves it alone for the time being. “How long have you known her?”

“Work,” you say, then facepalm. You’re lucky you manage to do it with the hand not holding your glass of champagne. “Two years or so. I already worked there when she was hired. I kind of watched the whole thing with Himiko from the sidelines.”

That’s how you always watch relationships play out at work, or anywhere, really. Pretending to be happy, really being happy, and still feeling like you’re pulling a tarp over the sinkhole in your chest. “So the wife invited you and you showed up even though you knew you’d hate it,” Shigaraki concludes. “You’re crazier than me. I’m never going to another one of these things again.”

“Not even your own?”

“Do I look like the kind of person somebody marries?” Shigaraki finishes his whole glass in a single swallow. You were thinking about trying to keep up with him, but if you try that, you’ll throw up all over the dress you had to buy, which is probably dry-clean only or something worse. “I don’t get why anyone goes to these things.”

“They’re supposed to be fun,” you say. You feel bad picking on Ochako’s wedding. It’s not Ochako’s fault that you’re single, bitter about it, and this close to drunk on alcohol she paid for. “But they’re usually only fun if you go with someone.”

“I went with somebody. He ditched me to hook up with a guy who named himself after a bird.”

You snicker at that. “I meant a date,” you clarify. “If your date ditches you to hook up, then you’ve got bigger problems than whether you’re having fun at a wedding.”

“He’s not my date. I’m not gay.” Shigaraki looks up. “Did you think I was gay?”

“I really didn’t – think,” you admit. You didn’t come to the wedding looking for a hookup. If you had, you’d have tried to put a move on Hawks before Dabi could. “The activities are more fun with a date.”

“Activities?” Shigaraki asks. “Like games?”

“Uh, sometimes,” you say. You know Ochako set up lawn games outside, and the sun won’t set for a while. “Sometimes there’s an art project you’re supposed to do for the couple, as a keepsake or something. I went to one last year where you were supposed to write a good wish, fold it into a paper crane, and then hang it off a branch of this tree they’d bought.”

“Too much work. What else?”

“Dancing,” you say, although you felt like that was pretty obvious. “And Himiko and Ochako have a photo booth.”

Shigaraki’s nose wrinkles. “Why?”

“As a keepsake for the guests, I guess,” you say. “Again. More of a couple thing.”

“Huh.” Shigaraki pours half a glass this time but still finishes it in one swallow. Then he stands up. “Let’s do it.”

You freeze in the act of pouring yourself another glass. “What?”

“I’m never coming to another wedding. You’re bored and drunk –”

“I’m not the one who’s been treating glasses like shots.”

“So let’s do it,” Shigaraki says, like you didn’t say a word. “If this is the last one I go to, I want to get my money’s worth. Do you have something better to do?”

You were this close to taking out your phone and opening up Tinder. You shake your head. “Finish that,” Shigaraki says, and you finish the half-glass you just poured and get to your feet. “Where’s the stupid photo booth?”

You lead the way. Even in heels, you’re faster than Shigaraki – he’s meandering a little bit, possibly due to all the champagne. You reach out and grab his hand to pull him back on course. He jumps, stumbles into an empty table, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted the wedding date experience. Holding hands is included.” At least you think it should be. If you had a real date you’d want to hold hands with them. Shigaraki follows you a little more closely than before as you make your way up to the photo booth. “It looks like they have props. Should we use them?”

Shigaraki hasn’t let go of your hand. He picks up a fake mustache on a stick. “Who would use this?”

“Me, maybe?” If you had a wedding date, you’d want to be spontaneous and fun. You lift it out of his hand and hold it up to your face. “What do you think?”

“No.” Shigaraki takes it away, puts it back, and picks up a flower crown. “Here.”

“No, that’s for you,” you say. Shigaraki argues, but you pluck it out of his hand and settle it on his head anyway. “See? It looks great.”

“If Dabi sees me wearing this stupid thing –”

“He’ll be jealous,” you say. The crown would look stupid on Dabi’s spiky black hair, but the pastel shades of the flowers look nice with Shigaraki’s blue-grey hair. “Okay. Now you can pick one for me. I’ll even do the mustache.”

“No,” Shigaraki says again. He sorts through the props and comes up with a headband with bunny ears. “This one.”

You two are going to look ridiculous. It’s hard not to laugh, and you haven’t even seen the full effect yet. You put on the headband, thankful that you went for a low-effort hairstyle that’s easy to fix, then pull the curtain on the photo booth and wedge yourself into it. Shigaraki follows you in.

It’s a really tight fit. You were pretty sure the photo booth was a couple activity, but now you’re sure – you love your friends, but you wouldn’t want to end up most of the way into any of their laps. You have to stop holding hands to try to get situated, and while you’re still trying to figure yourselves out, the photo booth takes the first picture. Shigaraki grimaces. “Wait. That probably looked stupid. Where –”

The booth takes the second picture while he’s talking, and you snort. There’s about a ten-second interval to get positioned correctly. You manage to face front in time, but your elbow lands on Shigaraki’s thigh as you’re trying to steady yourself, and he flinches away. You drop out of the frame as the booth snaps the third photo, and it occurs to you that the only part of you visible in the picture will be the bunny ears. Based on the location of the ears in relation to Shigaraki’s body, it’s going to look pretty compromising. You hope no one sees that picture. Ever.

Shigaraki’s snickering as you sit up. “Nice one. I want a copy of – hey!”

You’ve elbowed him on purpose this time, just in time for the fourth photo. The fifth photo’s probably going to be blurry. You’re both lightly shoving each other, trying to get each other out of your personal space without pushing either of you out of the photo booth itself. The sixth photo’s probably the only one that’s worth anything, and it won’t be very good, either – Shigaraki’s flower crown is off-kilter, and you’re pretty sure your headband’s falling off. The printer begins to whir, and the two of you sit in silence as the booth prints out two sets of photos. You pick one up. Shigaraki takes the other. A second later, you’re both laughing.

The photos look even worse than you thought, and somehow that makes them better. The photo where it’s just your ears in the frame features Shigaraki staring down into his lap, looking all kinds of startled, while the photo where you’re pushing each other is blurry enough to be a still from a found-footage horror movie. In your opinion, the first photo is the funniest. “We look like that meme with the cat,” you wheeze. “The one with the loading circle over its head.”

“The last one looks like a mug shot,” Shigaraki says, his laughter so raspy that it borders on a witch’s cackle. “After a bar fight –”

The idea of getting in a bar fight in your wedding outfit sets you off. You slump sideways at an angle and end up with your head against his chest for a few seconds, surprised that you can hear his heartbeat and surprised at how fast it’s beating. “Which of us won?”

“We both lost,” Shigaraki says, and you laugh harder. The two of you look disheveled as hell, and not from anything fun. “Number two is the worst one. You look good and I look like a dumbass.”

“You just had your mouth open,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’re probably smearing your makeup, but who gives a shit. You didn’t do that good of a job on it anyway. “Anyway, that’s the wedding photo booth experience. What do you think?”

“I want to go again,” Shigaraki says. This time, you manage to turn to stare at him without throwing any elbows. “For good ones. No way do people’s girlfriends let them leave with just the stupid ones.”

You would, but then again, there’s not a big enough difference between how you look in bad photos and how you look in good ones for it to matter. “We can do one more,” you agree. “Let’s lose the props.”

Without the flower crown and bunny ears, the silliness factor drops significantly. Now you look less like a couple of drunk clowns pretending to be a couple and more like two people who could actually be together. It weirds you out, but you promised the whole wedding date experience. In the seconds before the first flash goes off, you tilt your head onto Shigaraki’s shoulder.

Shigaraki startles, and as soon as the flash goes off, he pushes you away – but only so he can tilt sideways. He’s taller than you, enough so his cheek rests against the top of your head. Four photos left. When you glances over at Shigaraki, you see that his tie’s crooked, so you fix it for him, burning another photo in the bargain. The fourth photo is Shigaraki shifting the neckline of your dress to cover your bra strap, which is weird but plausible for a couple’s photo booth experience. He has a birthmark just below the right corner of his mouth. You aim for it when you kiss his cheek quickly for the fifth photo.

Shigaraki startles again, and you sit back – but not too far. You’re still close enough that Shigaraki only has to lean forward a few inches for his lips to meet yours.

You weren’t planning to kiss him. It’s not much of a kiss, and it doesn’t last long, but your heart is still racing as the booth spits out your second sheet of photos. You’re almost scared to look. Shigaraki’s hesitant, too, and when you both flip the sheets over to check, he says exactly what you’re thinking. “Shit.”

The first set of photos were a joke. The second set – either you and Shigaraki are really good actors or you’re both really drunk, because they look way too plausible for comfort. The ones where you’re fussing over each other’s clothes are probably the worst offenders on that front, but you’re most alarmed by the last two. You’re smiling as you kiss his cheek. You can see the corner of your mouth turned up. And you didn’t see where Shigaraki’s hand was when he kissed you, but the photo’s preserved the evidence. It’s right by the side of your face, curved like he wants to cradle your jaw in his hand.

Exactly sixty seconds ago, the two of you were screwing around in here. Now it feels like there’s static running back and forth between you, and you scramble out of the booth in a hurry, almost tripping over your feet. Shigaraki gets out, too, leaning against the booth to steady himself. Without a word, he takes both of your sets of photos and tucks them into his suit jacket along with his sets, then fills your suddenly-empty hand with his own. “Now what?”

The static shock is between your hands now. “My hand is humming,” you say, like an idiot, and Shigaraki tightens his grip. “Um, I think there are some games outside.”

“Fine.”

It’s warm outside, but getting cooler as the sun begins to set. There are a lot of games, and most of them are being ignored in favor of a bunch of the goofiest guys from your office playing cornhole while their girlfriends/boyfriends watch. You determine instantly that you’re not coordinated enough for anything that involves throwing something, which leaves you exactly one option. “How about that one?”

“Jenga?”

“Jenga XL,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “My hand-eye coordination’s too bad right now for a throwing game. This will be safer.”

Whoever was playing the oversized Jenga last left the blocks in a heap. You and Shigaraki can’t hold hands while you stack them up, and as you do, your assumption that Jenga would be safer than something else gets tested in the most embarrassing way possible – and of course Shigaraki points it out. “You’re short. If this thing falls on you it’ll flatten you.”

“It won’t fall,” you say with more confidence than you feel. “I’m good at this.”

“Go first, then, if you’re so good at it.”

You get a block out without trouble, but you have to rely on Shigaraki to re-stack it for you, which he does, wearing a really frustrating smirk. “You should have worn taller shoes.”

“I can’t walk in taller shoes,” you say. “Or dance. Are you going to want to dance?”

“If it’s part of the wedding date experience, yeah.” Shigaraki carefully extracts his block and sets it on top of the tower. He’s not all that much taller than you. If the game goes on long enough, he’ll have trouble re-stacking. “They don’t exactly teach dance classes in juvie.”

“It’s not that kind of dancing,” you say. Shigaraki looks relieved. “If it’s going to be that kind of dancing, they warn you on the invitation. A friend of mine who got married last year only played swing music at her reception. She sent out a certificate for free lessons with her save-the-date.”

“Control issues?”

“I think she just wanted stuff her way,” you say. You ease another block out of the tower and hand it over to Shigaraki. “Hers was nice. Everything ran on time, and she sent out thank-you notes six weeks after the wedding.”

Shigaraki stacks your block, then pulls out one of his own. You realize with a jolt that he’s missing the index and middle fingers from his left hand. “What’s the worst one you’ve ever been to?”

“Um.” You don’t want to say this. You really don’t – but you drank too much, and you should be honest. “Mine.”

“You’re married?”

“Divorced,” you say. “Three months after the wedding. I didn’t have the ring on long enough to get a tan line.”

Shigaraki doesn’t say anything. The tower is getting unstable, so you’re careful as you wiggle out one of the side blocks on a row about halfway up. You keep an eye on Shigaraki’s shadow as you do it, bracing yourself for him to walk away. Would you walk away if he told you he was divorced? No, but you’re divorced, so it matters less to you. “Three months,” Shigaraki repeats. “How’d that happen?”

“You’re lucky you aren’t asking me that six years ago,” you say. “With how much I drank tonight, I’d have gone off.”

“Go off. I want to hear it.” Shigaraki actually looks interested. “Anyone who fucks this up deserves it.”

He’s gestures at you. You don’t know what to make of that, and you’ve got a block halfway out of the tower. You go back to work on it. “How do you know it wasn’t me?”

“I know,” Shigaraki says. “How’d it happen?”

“This is pathetic,” you warn. Shigaraki gestures for you to go on. You sigh. “We were together since high school. Midway through college I got a bad feeling that we were drifting apart and I couldn’t take the suspense, so I tried to end it. And he popped the question. We got married six months later and three months after that he knocked up my cousin.”

“Damn,” Shigaraki remarks.

“They’re still together,” you say. “The kid’s in primary school this year. And every year around the holidays my aunt and my cousin pick a fight with me about how I need to be nicer to him, because we’re all a family now.”

You finally manage to extract the block, and Shigaraki takes it from you before you can offer it to him. You can’t read his expression, and just like when you sensed things with your ex were falling apart, you can’t take the suspense. “Pathetic?” you prompt.

“Your ex is a loser.”

“You haven’t seen what my cousin looks like.”

“He’s still a loser,” Shigaraki says. He pulls out a block. “I get it, though.”

Your stomach clenches. “What do you mean?”

“If my girlfriend was leaving me because I was dicking around, I might do something like that, too.” Shigaraki sets his block on top of the tower. Your options for blocks to pull are getting slimmer by the turn. “Popping the question. Not knocking up your cousin.”

“I have other cousins,” you say. Shigaraki snorts. “I thought you said you weren’t getting married.”

“I said nobody was going to marry me,” Shigaraki corrects. What’s the difference? “Your turn.”

You’re out of blocks at shoulder height. And chest height. And waist height. You crouch down instead, doing your best to balance in your heels, and start trying to wiggle a block loose on the fourth level up from the ground. Shigaraki’s voice follows you down. “If you were ready to ditch him, why did you say yes?”

Now you’re at a real risk of crying. Six years of intermittent only-when-you’ve-got-the-money counseling hasn’t made a dent in this one thing. You remind yourself that Shigaraki can’t see your face and work on keeping your voice steady. “I was the one who asked him out in the first place, back in high school. I always had this weird sense that we wouldn’t be together if I hadn’t. So when he proposed I thought it meant he was choosing me, like I chose him. Which was a stupid reason to say yes.”

You wanted to believe. You wanted to believe so badly that you were worth it, and now you’re divorced at twenty-eight, barely talking to the half of your family that took your cousin’s side, going on a grand total of one real date in the entire time since then that you got up and left partway through because you couldn’t fake hope or excitement for one second longer. The kiss you planted on Shigaraki in the photo both was the most action you’ve gotten in two years, and you’ve put more effort into the fake wedding-date experience than you have into even looking for a hookup. You’re pathetic. This is pathetic. You should be embarrassed, and you are.

But you got your stupid block out. You straighten up and hold it out to Shigaraki, who stacks it for you. You can’t read his expression, and you’re a little too dysregulated to be anything but blunt. “That’s my tragic backstory. What’s your damage?”

“What, going to juvie doesn’t count?” Shigaraki crouches down to pull a block from the opposite side of the same row you just weakened. He’s doing it right-handed; he’s waving his left with its missing fingers at you. “This doesn’t count? The fact that I don’t have eyebrows doesn’t count? Your problem is being a dumb kid with a shitty family and a shitty ex. My problem is that I exist. We’re not the same.”

He straightens up and drops his block on top of the tower. You can see that he’s tenser than before, and you can’t think of anything to say that won’t sound patronizing. “I didn’t notice about the eyebrows until you said something.”

“Great.” Shigaraki won’t look at you. “Your turn.”

You crouch down again. The row below the row Shigaraki just knocked down to one block seems like the safest bet. You start pulling at it, frustrated at the way it sticks. “Careful,” Shigaraki says after a second. “If you don’t watch out –”

The tower topples. You’re crouched down, with no chance of getting out of the way in time, and all you can do is sit there, stunned, while three dozen giant Jenga blocks crash down around your head. The corner of one catches your temple, digs in, and you flinch. But the blocks are light. You’re startled, and humiliated, and possibly bleeding a little bit, but you’re fine. “Are you okay?” Shigaraki asks. You give a thumbs-up, and he crouches down next to you. “I don’t believe you. You look – shit, your face is bleeding.”

“I’m good,” you say. “It’s a good thing we took pictures already. This is not part of the wedding-date experience.”

“I’m done with that,” Shigaraki says, and your heart sinks. Even though it shouldn’t. Even though none of this mattered to begin with, even though you know better, you hoped. You weren’t hoping for anything much – just to keep having fun, just to not spend the rest of the wedding alone. “You have a purse, right? Do you have napkins in there or something?”

“Your suit comes with a pocket square.” You pluck it out of his pocket and press it to your temple. “I’ll pay for cleaning it.”

“Don’t bother. It was my dad’s. He doesn’t have much use for it in solitary.”

Shigaraki helps you up while you’re still processing that one and tugs you away from the wreckage of the Jenga tower, onto a bench. The view of the sunset is really good from here. Further down the lawn, you can see Himiko and Ochako and their photographer doing a last round of pictures, and you slide your feet out of your shoes. It’s that point in the wedding. You’ll probably stay here for the rest of the night.

“Do you need ice?” Shigaraki asks. You shake your head. It doesn’t hurt, or maybe the fact that the sinkhole in your chest is eating the tarp you put over it just hurts more. “Do you still want to dance?”

“You said you were done with the wedding date thing.”

“Yeah. I’m done with the part where it’s fake.”

Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought you did. “What do you mean?”

“Seriously?” Shigaraki sounds annoyed. “I let you put a flower crown on me.”

“Is that some kind of mating ritual in juvie?” The instant you say it, you feel bad, but Shigaraki laughs. “If you’re trying to say something, say it. I don’t do very well with ambiguity on my best night and I’m still kind of drunk.”

“Same here. Otherwise I’d sit on this, and my friends would spend the rest of their lives listening to me bitch about how I didn’t ask out the girl from Toga’s wedding.” Shigaraki’s hand lifts from his lap, rises to his neck, then falls back. “I want to dance with you. Toga and her wife are having an after-party at their place, and I want you to come to it with me. And I want your number so we can hang out again sometime when we’re not wasted. Because I like you.”

You must have hit your head really hard. “We met three hours ago.”

“So? Toga said she knew she was going to marry the wife the first time they made eye contact,” Shigaraki says. That sounds like something Himiko would say. You’ve met her a few times at work parties and she’s always struck you as a little intense and a little off-the-wall. “Do you want to dance or not? Make up your mind.”

You want to say yes. What comes out is something really stupid, so stupid that you can’t look at him while you say it. “This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.”

“What, meeting somebody who asks you out?”

It sounds stupid when he says it like that. You keep his dad’s pocket square pressed to your temple and try to explain. “The whole thing where you meet somebody when you weren’t expecting to meet anybody and things click, at least on your end, and since you know it’s just on your end you try not to get your hopes up – but the other person tells you that it clicked for them, too –”

“That’s dumb.” Shigaraki doesn’t sound like he’s being mean. You could almost call it affectionate. “Forget who it happens to. I’m asking you out. Do you –”

Screw it. If this is some kind of hallucination, you want to enjoy it. If it’s real, you don’t want to miss out. You turn back to face Shigaraki. “Yes.”

He grins, and you notice a scar over his mouth, too. “Good. Now what?”

You think about kissing him. You decide to try hugging first, which involves getting at least as close to him as you did when you were in the photo booth, on purpose this time. Shigaraki isn’t particularly tall or bulky, but when you hug him, you’re surprised to notice that he’s hiding some muscle underneath his suit jacket. Kind of a lot of muscle. Huh. Shigaraki notices that you’re investigating a little bit. “What?” he asks, his mouth against your ear. “Did you think all I do is game?”

“I don’t know what you do all day,” you say. “We didn’t get to that part yet.”

“We will.” Shigaraki draws back from you, and you loosen your grip even as his hand rises to cradle your jaw. This time you see the kiss coming from a mile away, and this time, you lean in.

Everything’s different this time, except the thing that startles the two of you apart – the bright flash of a camera going off. “Tomura-kun!” Himiko squeals from somewhere nearby. “I told you you’d have fun at my wedding. Who is that? She’s so cute!”

For a second you’re worried Shigaraki doesn’t know your name, but he must have been paying more attention than you thought he was when you introduced yourself, because he introduces you to Toga without missing a beat. “She’s one of my coworkers,” Ochako explains, smiling at you. Even through the smile you can see the incredulity on her face, and you know you’ll be getting a lot of questions about this when she gets back from her honeymoon. “I’m so sorry we had to put you at that table. I wanted to put you with everybody from work, but they all had plus-ones –”

“It’s fine,” you say faintly. Himiko’s photographer takes another picture, this time of all four of you talking. “It worked out.”

“She’s coming to your party,” Shigaraki informs Himiko. “I invited her.”

“Oh, good!” Himiko turns her attention to you. “It’s going to be so fun! We have games and movies and we’re going to stay up all night.”

“You should come inside now,” Ochako says. “There are mosquitos out here, and we’re supposed to have cake soon –”

“And we’re going to do the Time Warp. I put that on the playlist for you special, Tomura-kun,” Himiko says. She glances at you. “It’s the only dance he knows.”

Shigaraki flushes, grimaces, but you tilt your head against his shoulder again, lacing his fingers with yours for the third time tonight. You don’t know what he does all day when he’s not at weddings he doesn’t want to go to. You don’t know if what he said about his dad being in solitary confinement was a joke or not. You don’t know what happened to his hand or where he got his scars, or even where his eyebrows went. But you know he likes you. You know you like him enough to give things a shot, at least for tonight, and that’s better than you’ve felt in a long time.

And you know he can dance, even if it’s only the Time Warp. For right now, you don’t need to know any more than that.

[hyperfocusthusly]

Lifelines

——-

Part one | Part two | A03

——-

They do work it out. Tommy apologises for running, Buck apologises for jumping and they both agree to take it slow this time.

Evan comes round for movie nights while Tommy works up the courage to take Chimney up on his offer of babysitting.

They sit, pressed against each other, Evan reeling off every piece of trivia about the film they’re watching. He tells Evan about Ava, how she’s starting to stand up and move around the furniture. How one day he had been making her breakfast, he’d turned around and she wasn’t there anymore. He knew both the doors were shut but it didn’t stop it feeling like his heart was about to come out of his chest. Until he heard a tiny giggle come out from under one of the chairs. She had wedged herself into the square created by the chair legs and was sat, perfectly still, two little hands covering her face. When he crouched down to gently ask what it was she was doing, she had pulled her hands away and shouted with the kind of pure joy Tommy didn’t think he’d ever seen before.

“She sounds very funny.”

“She certainly thinks so, I’m not sure my cardiologist would agree.”

——-

Tommy is still stood in the hallway.

There’s nothing else to do. He had given Howie the official tour, showed him Ava’s bottles, formula, where the extra diapers and pacifiers were kept.

He just had to leave.

He took a deep breath and glanced at where Ava and Howie were sat on the floor of the living room. Ava was banging two blocks slightly dangerously close to Howie’s nose and laughing at his mock shock. Howie pushes himself up off the floor and walks over to him. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and smiles gently.

“She’s going to be okay.”

“I know.”

“You are going to be okay.”

Tommy chews on his lip. He’s less certain about that. His eyes flick over to the door. It’s just dinner, a couple of hours. He’s coming home.

I wonder if they thought the same thing?

He pushes the thought away immediately, and goes into the living room. He scoops Ava up and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“I promise I’m coming back, you’re going to have a great time with Uncle Howie, okay?”

She squeaks, seemingly in agreement and makes a ‘mwah’ smacking sound, tipping forward and crashing, open mouthed, straight into his face. He laughs and kisses her cheek. He puts her back down on the floor and offers her a block, she takes it and goes back to trying to find the most interesting combination of things to bash together.

He takes another deep breath and goes to the front door. Howie gives him a comical thumbs up as he opens the door.

Evan is practically bouncing by the time Tommy finally steps out of the door. They’ve chosen a restaurant a few blocks away from Tommy’s house. It isn’t the nicest place but Buck knows how tense Tommy was about being anywhere too far from home.

It also means they get to enjoy a warm evening walk, hands linked, the light autumn breeze ruffling through their hair.

“So you going to tell me why you look like you’re about to explode? Or should I just start taking guesses until the bomb squad gets called?”

Evan blushes, tips his head back and laughs.

“Bet you’d look good, even in a bomb suit.” He playfully bumps against Tommy’s shoulder.

“Maddie had her first scan today, everything is going well. I always think they look super weird when they’re that small, like little beans y’know?”

Tommy did know.

Tommy knows because there is one of those pictures in the top drawer of his dresser at home. A little note attached, achingly familiar handwriting printing out his status as favoured Uncle.

It twists in his gut and he can feel the bile rising in his throat. He instinctively presses it down, tries to disguise the burning in his throat with a cough. Evan looks at him, bright and piercing.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine, that’s, it’s really great news.”

——-

They reach the restaurant and get seated.

Buck is busy catching Tommy up with some of the more note worthy calls they’d had in the last few months.

He reaches across the table and prise Tommy’s hand away from the napkin he’s currently shredding, linking their fingers together. He squeezes gently.

“She’s going to be okay, Chim is like a master with babies.”

Tommy smiles faintly, he had received a picture of Ava fast asleep in her crib with Howie leaning over her, big smile, thumbs up and a ‘she’s been great, enjoy your date!’ messaged attached.

“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just- it’s the first time I’ve left her.”

“We can go back if you need to, I know she’s important.”

“You’re important too.”

Tommy doesn’t miss the faint blush that creeps across Evan’s cheeks. Smiles at him.

“Now what were you saying? You can’t leave me hanging with a kitten stuck in an air vent story.”

Evan grins, it lights up his whole face. Tommy feels the knot of pressure in his chest ease slightly.

The rest of the date passes easily and before he knows it he’s stood in Ava’s room, softly stroking her cheek while she sleeps.

He and Evan had said goodnight with a kiss and a promise to see each other again later that week.

He pulls up her little blanket and whispers

“I think it might work this time.”

——-

They met at Tommy’s house later in the week, as promised, but Evan has been quieter this evening. Dinner passes with a bare description of his day, no regaling of the random facts he’d learnt since the last time they’d seen each other. Tommy recalls his small late night confession. It starts to make him feel sick. They wash up in near silence.

Tommy dries his hands as Evan loops the tea towel through the cabinet door. The silence starts to feel heavy.

“Is everything okay?”

Evan looks uneasy, shifting from foot to foot, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve.

I- uhm - I don’t know how to-” his eyes are shining with unshed tears. “I want this Tommy, I really do, but-”

Tommy feels rooted to the floor. It’s happening again, only this time it’ll be Evan that walks out of the door.

“It’s been great, really, I just feel like something isn’t working.”

Tommy has to try to remember to breathe. He opens his mouth, closes it again. How could he have missed this?

“But- I thought-” he hears his voice catch. “I thought it was going well.”

Evan tilts his head, a sad smile on his face.

“It was, and I am, I really want to be with you, it’s just-”

He takes a deep breath, face resolute.

“You’re still hiding from me.”

Tommy takes a step back, stunned.

“I’m- I’m not-”

“Tommy, your sister died. In a freak accident a hundred miles away, months ago and you haven’t said a single word about it.”

He can feel his chest getting tight, breaths coming out shorter than he would like. He glances at the monitor on the side, prays for a disturbance, a snuffle. Anything to get him out from under Evan’s gaze.

He wants to run. Every thing in him is telling him to get away, it’s too much. He can’t admit how broken he feels. How much he loves the tiny face that looks just like hers, how much it hurts.

He knows this is it, this is the moment. Trust himself with Evan, or run.

He takes a step towards Evan, his shaking hand is moving forward. Reaching out.

His head feels like it’s full of lead, he lifts his eyes, dragging them away from his escape route. Focuses them in front of him.

Evan’s eyes are soft, full of the patience that usually makes Tommy feel uneasy. He feels hands wrapped around his own, pulling him closer. He lets himself go, finding his face pressed up against the side of Evan’s neck. He closes his eyes against the shiver that runs through his whole body.

“I miss her.” He whispers. “She was the only one I ever-” a stuttering breath forces its way out of his chest. “She was the only one I ever felt safe with.” He can’t stop it now, the grief crashes over him like a wave. He trembles in Evan’s embrace. The arms wrapping around him are the only things keeping him from collapsing under the weight of it.

“A-and she left me.” His voice is raw, ragged. “And I’m-” he falters, a sharp edge pulls through his mind, it’s too much, he won’t stay if you say it. “I’m angry with her.” He clenches his jaw. “She’s dead and I’m angry with her.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “She didn’t tell me about Ava, she didn’t ask, she just-” He feels Evan turn his head towards him, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “She just left, and I- I want her back Evan, I miss her so much.”

“And I’m scared. If I-” he chokes. “That if I tell anyone how much I feel like I can’t do this, how terrified I am that I’m getting it all wrong…That someone will come and takes her away from me.”

“Nobody is going to take Ava.”

“She’s all I have left of her.”

“Nobody is going to take her away from you. Tommy,” He shuffles them slightly, guides them down the hallway and over to the couch. Pulls Tommy down, in close to his chest.

“It’s okay to feel like that. If Maddie and Chim-” he cuts himself off with a harsh swallow. “I think it’s a fairly normal response given the situation, but sweetheart,” he cradles Tommy’s face gently, rubs his thumb along Tommys cheekbone, trying to smooth away the fear embedded there. “If you don’t talk about, it’ll only ever get worse. You have to talk to us, trust that we aren’t going anywhere.”

“Okay.”

They sit there for a while as Tommy calms down. He feels exhausted from the sudden outpouring of emotion. His eyes feel heavy, just as he feel himself drifting off the monitor on the coffee table starts emitting high cries.

He sighs.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you go, I’ll be right here when you get back.”

Tommy looks at him, so open and earnest. He offers a watery smile and starts to push himself off the couch. Evan catches him just before he stands, squeezes the hand balancing on his thigh.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Tommy nods, his throat still feels locked up.

Evan presses a quick kiss to his cheek and watches as he leaves the room.

He sits back on the couch and lets out a long breath. He wasn’t glad Tommy was upset, of course not, but he had chosen to let his guard down. He had chosen to stay.

Buck picks up the monitor and holds it close to his chest, listening to the gentle soothing. Tommy telling her that she is okay, she’s safe.

Maybe this time it will work.

Tag list for this fic;

@leashybebes @beanarie @partofthelouniverse @big-urchin-energy @loucifersbitch @fyrehose @evansbuck-ley @sad-girl-hours23 @certifiedbisexualdisaster @theweewooshow @beckym2001 @kinardevans @bidisasterevankinard

@sweaters-and-silly @apassingbird @sunnywithachanceofbi @theotherbuckley @desert--moonchild @comfortingevanbuckley @livelaughlou @typicalopposite @wikiangela @bi-bi-buckleys @littlepaws9 @ohithankyou

@agentpeggycartering @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @adiprose @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @honeyloulou @tommykinard @casismybestfriend @sherlocking-out-loud @o0anapher0o @sorryimlatecapt

@buffaluff @hipsterdarcy @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @that-one-dudette @aringofsalt @cliophilyra @bisexualmadney @reginamillls @zeraparker @harmonic-intervention @aplaceinme

@comfortingevanbuckley @thetommykinard @owlgirl495 @powersuitup

[loveharlow]

SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 004

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[8.1k] A certain pogue is out of jail which means a certain handful of Kooks should be going in, unless they found some way out of it...

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ death, strained friendship, tw! topper, mentions of drowning

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ A lil TR x Sarah bonding until it all goes to shit of course, BUT A LOT OF GOOD THINGS HAPPEN NEXT CHAPTER! Sorry for the angst streak :/ also, the scene between TR and JJ is loosely based on this scene between Brooke and Lucas from One Tree Hill.

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

THE SOUND OF CHICKENS CLUCKING AND KIARA PLUCKING THE STRINGS ON HER UKELELE SOUNDED IN THE QUIET OF THE YARD. The four of you — you, JJ, Kiara, and Pope, were in the surf shack at The Chateau. It was early in the morning.

JJ was waxing his board as Kiara played her instrument, you and Pope standing idly by. You were starting to get worried. It’d been almost twelve hours since your confrontation with Shoupe and nothing seems to have changed. You hoped it wasn’t all for nothing. 

But another question was on your tongue…

“...Has anyone seen Sarah?” You asked, eyes squinting from the sunlight. Everyone looked at each other for a brief moment until Kiara broke the silence.

“Last thing she said was that she was going to meet Wheezie.” You hummed at her words.

You and Kie hadn’t spoken nor looked one another in the eye since last night, so it was safe to assume you weren’t the best of friends right now. To be honest, you haven’t been for a while. It was just so weird. There was a time you considered her one of your best friends. But now you couldn’t even face each other without some kind of cat fight ensuing. And you feared these disputes might go from verbal to physical if the pressure reached that point…

“That’s a lot of wax on your board.” Pope spoke, interrupting JJ as he waxed his surfboard. The blonde paused in his movements, side eyeing his friend. “If you put too much, it’s gonna be slippery.”

“...Are you tellin’ me how to wax my board, Pope?” JJ asked, standing up straight.

“I’m just saying, that’s a lot of wax-”

“No no no, you’re tellin’ me how to wax my board. Are you kidding me?”

“I’m just saying that’s a colossal waste of wax.” Pope shrugged sassily, turning away from the blonde.

“Guys,” Kiara butted in, looking between the two. “Really? Can you go two minutes without-” A car horn cut off the tail end of her sentence. The sound making all of you freeze. That was a very distinct horn. A horn that only belonged to a certain vehicle. A certain vehicle that belonged to a certain boy.

None of you said anything else, almost all completely still and waiting to hear it again. When the sound came again, you were the first to turn and run towards it. You rounded the corner of the surf shack just in time to see the Twinkie kicking up dust in front of The Chateau, a dearly missed brunette behind the wheel.

“No fucking way!” You exclaimed breathlessly as you ran towards the vehicle, almost tripping over your own feet. “Jombee!”

“Guess who’s out of the clink?!” He smiled, hopping out of the passenger seat. You knocked the wind out of the boy when you threw yourself into him, squeezing him as tightly as you could. He returned the gesture in full, the both of you laughing into each other’s shoulders as the others approached.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“Am I dreaming?”

“My boy’s out of the can!” They all joined in on the hug when they got close enough, the five of you piled in on each other. You weren’t sure if what you said worked or it was by the grace of some other miracle that John B was here right now but you didn’t care.

“How’d you do it?” JJ asked as you all pulled back from the hug, forming a circle. “You bust out?”

“No, actually,” John B said matter of factly. “They dropped the charges.” Just then, three of them turned to you with knowing smiles on their faces, John B following their gazes like a lost child. “What?”

“It worked.” Pope told him simply.

“What? What worked?”

“Our little pogue princess here used her magic to get your ass out of jail, Bree.” JJ celebrated, nudging your shoulder playfully as a small smile grew on your face.

“How the hell did you manage that?” John B asked, scoffing gratefully.

“It was nothing…” You waved off. “I just put some pieces together, that’s all.”

“Uh, it was not nothing.” JJ assured. “She went straight up Criminal Minds on Shoupe and his league of badge-wielding sissies. Had a folder and everything-”

“...Wait,” John B cut in, the smile gone from his face. “Where’s Sarah?” The four of you looked to each other, shoulder's square and tense.

“...She went to go meet Wheezie last night.” Kiara told the boy, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “She didn’t come back.”

“SO, SARAH JUST DIPS AND DOESN’T CALL?” John B theoreticized, the only one standing on the boat. The five of you were lounging in the HMS Pogue that’d been stationery in the water behind The Chateau. John B was kind of dampening the mood with a Sarah question every five minutes but you all gave him the benefit of the doubt. 

“I don’t think we should jump to conclusions. I mean, I don’t think she would just leave. No offense but, where would she even go?” Kiara threw out, leaning against the inside of the boat next to John B’s legs.

“But, I mean also, she left her bag.” Pope added, you weren’t sure how that helped the conversation.

John B just sighed, planting his hands atop his head. “I really think Ward got to her.” He offered a possible theory. “I mean, he tried to have me killed in jail.”

You turned around so fast, you feared you almost gave yourself whiplash. “He what?”

“Yeah. He sent somebody to the prison who...yoked me up and almost killed me.” 

“Do we know who this dude was?” JJ asked. Judging by his tone, he had an idea in mind and he most likely could go through with it if he truly wanted. Between the inmates who didn’t approve of crimes against children and JJ’s connections in the jail from his dad, he could honestly probably set something up with just a name and a dirty cop.

“No, I have no idea.” John B shook his head. “Dude, I swear to God, one day I’m gonna kill that son of bitch.” He threatened mindlessly, finally taking a seat inside the boat.

“It’s okay.” Kiara tried to comfort.

“No, Kie, it’s not okay.” He snapped. “We gotta find Sarah.”

“No, literally, it’s okay.” Kiara said once more, pointing behind the distressed brunette. “She’s right there.”

The four of you turned to see Sarah…sitting in Topper’s boat. 

As Topper drove.

At the sight of John B, the blonde girl stood up. “...John B?” Her small voice traveled across the water, Topper’s boat getting closer and closer. She shouted John B’s name happily, the boy simply looking away from her. Seeing your girlfriend on her ex’s boat the morning you get out of jail can’t be the best ‘Welcome Home’ surprise.

The four of you cringed, Sarah clearly not registering the picture that was being painted.

“Oh, poor Sarah.” You muttered under your breath, mainly to yourself. “Sometimes, I forget that you are indeed a blonde, teenage girl.”

“What the hell is she doing with Topper?” Kiara asked, loud enough for the four of you only to hear. Everyone shot small smiles at the blonde girl, confused about who she’d arrived with but glad that she was safe nonetheless. Topper slowed his boat next to The Pogue, allowing Sarah to cross over as he and John B exchanged awkward glances.

“My God, this is weird…” You mumbled, clearly not quietly enough considering Pope nudged your shoulder in warning. “Wh-Am I wrong?”

Sarah threw herself into John B, the boy returning the gesture wholeheartedly but you could tell he was still a little thrown off. “I though I’d never see you again.” Sarah told him, voice muffled into his shoulder before she pulled back to look him in his eyes. “What happened?”

“They dropped all the charges.” John B smiled at his girlfriend.

“What?” Sarah breathed out, a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah, I’m a free man.” John B said smugly, leaning one arm on the boat’s windshield. 

“That’s amazing!” Sarah exclaimed, pulling the boy into her one more time. The look of heartbreak on Topper’s face was clear as day. Anyone could tell that he was still in love with her. You might’ve even felt bad if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“I know, it’s great, but listen, Sarah,” John B calmed her down, pushing her back by her arms to look at her. “They’re coming after Rafe.”

“...Good,” She said, surprising you all. Her eyes fleeted to you for a brief moment. “He’s completely unhinged. He jumped me last night.”

“What?” You all said simultaneously, eyes going wide as your attention went to Sarah.

“That’s why I didn’t come back.” 

“Yeah, man. Rafe has lost his mind.” Topper butted in, leaning against the structure of his own boat. “Literally almost drowned his own sister.” You rolled your eyes. Topper has known how unhinged Rafe was all along. He and Kelce always stood by like bodyguards when Rafe would treat you like shit towards the end of your “relationship” with him — he’d grab you by your neck in front of them, pull your hair, call you a bitch, tell you to shut up. But they didn’t care. Or at least they didn’t care enough to say anything about the way Rafe manhandled you or the people around him. But now that Topper had a chance to be Sarah’s knight in shining armor, there was no way he was going to pass it up. “Thankfully I got there just in time.” He said, and you swore you saw the hint of a sly smile on his face.

John B turned away from the blonde on the other boat, tongue prodding against his cheek. “Well, I guess I owe you one, Topper, don’t I?” He asked, voice short.

He simply scoffed in response, shrugging nonchalantly. “...’s all good. I mean, somebody had to rescue your girlfriend, right?”

“Oookay,” You jumped in. “I think it’s time for you to go, Topper, don’t you agree?-” You tried before John B jumped in.

“That’s funny because she’s not actually my girlfriend, right?” He directed the question more at Sarah than Topper, the girl tucking her hair behind her ear and laughing nervously.

“What is she, then?” Topper asked, chuckling. 

John B threw a hand out in Sarah’s direction. “Tell him.” He had a sure smile on his face, like he knew Sarah would say what he wanted her to. But it quickly dropped following her words.

“I…I’m with him.” She looked almost unsure of what she was saying. Like she didn't want to say it.

The four of you not involved in this love triangle cringed silently, all looking in different directions as your faces twisted while Topper basically wheezed. “Gotcha. You’re with him. Yeah, okay.” He taunted, looking to the four of you. “You guys clear on that?”

“I think it’s clear you gotta go now.” JJ warned, looking up at the preppy blonde.

“Yeah, I think it’s about that time.” He agreed simply as Sarah called out to him.

“Topper.” She said, leaving John B’s side to get closer to Topper’s boat. “Thank you.” She said gratefully, pulling the boy into a gentle hug.

Topper returned the gesture. “Yeah, of course.” He said softly, hand rubbing up and down her back gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He assured, and none of you missed the glare he shot John B behind Sarah’s back before she pulled away, letting Topper speed off.

YOU WERE STRETCHED OUT ON THE COUCH IN THE CHATEAU, TOSSING A BALL UP INTO THE AIR. John B and Sarah were outside on the hammock, the conversation they were having didn't look too pleasant. Kiara and Pope were talking in the Surf Shack, no telling whether they were cuddling or Kie was pushing him away. You were deep into thought when the door swung open, a chipper blonde waltzing in, humming some random tune under his breath as he went over into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

You looked at his frame in your peripheral before rolling your eyes and sighing, resuming your train of thought. 

“...Y’know, you are really just take the passive part out of being passive-aggressive, y’know that, right?” He spoke across the room, closing the fridge and leaning against it, a beer can in his hand.

“Sorry. I guess liars just bring out the worst in me.” You muttered, voice full of attitude.

“How can I lie about something I have no idea about? Kind of hard to understand why you're so mad at me if you don't say anything.” JJ scoffed, taking small steps towards you. 

At this you scoffed and rolled your eyes once more, sitting up on the couch and leaning your weight one arm, the ball clutched in your other hand. “Are you really just never going to say anything about it?”

“Say anything about what?"

"I mean, at first, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Like maybe it wasn't what it seemed but it's been days-"

You’ve been talking in riddles for days-”

“You kissed Kie.”

“...What?” He recoiled at the statement, standing up straighter. “No, I didn’t-”

“Yes, you did.” You interrupted, swinging your legs off of the couch and leaning your arms on your thighs. “In Charleston. At the gas station.” 

He seemed to ponder on it for a moment before he found it — his eyes going wide and his jaw going slack before he stuttered to find words. “Th- that is not what happened. Is that what she told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything. Neither of you did because you’re both liars and shitty friends.” You spat, standing from your seat and walking out of the door, hearing his heavy boots follow behind you as the screen door hit the wall. “Maybe this is a sign. Because clearly, you’re both made for each other. Do all liars and backstabbers have a moral code? Birds of a feather, y'know-”

“Can you let me explain?” He breathed out, his footsteps barrelling down the wooden steps and you walked through the dirt and gravel. You didn’t know where you were going or if you were going anywhere at all. It just felt right to walk away.

“You could’ve explained days ago.”

“Look,” He tried, gently grasping your arm to stop you in your tracks and turn you around. “Just listen to me, please. I understand what it may have looked like and I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you but I meant everything I said to you. That kiss you saw? Didn’t mean anything.” 

“A kiss always means something.” You rasped, snatching your arm away and looking him in his eyes. Really in his eyes, for probably the first time in days. 

“Okay, maybe you’re right but it didn’t mean anything to me. I didn't initiate it or like it or anything. I can’t speak for Kie but I can speak for me and the kiss. meant. nothing. And you would know that if you had-”

“If I had what?” You cut him off. “If I had said something? As you so sweetly pointed out, I didn't say anything, did I? I’m so sorry if the sight of you and Kie playing tongue hockey while Pope and I are less than ten feet away caught me off guard so badly that I couldn't say anything when it happened.”

“And I get that, I do. But you aren’t listening-” He tried to calm you, planting both of his hands on your shoulders before being harshly shrugged off.

“Stop that.”

“...Look, Kie kissed me. We were talking and then she kissed me and I pushed her away. The kiss didn’t last more than five seconds and I didn’t kiss her back. I told her I didn’t like her that way, I don't like her that way, and that I wouldn’t do that to Pope or you, ever. I even told her about what me and you have going on. I promise you.” He reassured. “And to be completely honest with you, would it even matter if I did? I mean, we aren’t together. You said you needed time to figure out your feelings. You said that you didn’t want me to wait on you to figure out your feelings. You said that.”

At his comment, you stood in shock. A silent ‘wow’ leaving your lips as you looked around at nothing. “And you know what, JJ? I loved you for that. You were so patient and understand in that moment that I fell in love with you in a such a way that I couldn't just call you my friend anymore. And I can’t believe that you use what I said now and twist it into something else. You know that’s not what happened. I told you I didn’t want you to wait on me to figure out my feelings if that’s not what you want, that part is true. But what about when you told me that you would and that it was your choice? That you’d be there when I was ready?” You reprimanded, scolded. “And when I told you that if you did kiss someone else or hook up with someone else, I just wanted you to tell me and not let me find out from someone else. And you told me that there would be nothing to tell and nothing to find out because you were “all mine”. Or did all of that just coincidentally slip your mind?”

“It didn’t. I just…” JJ sighed, running a hand down his face. “I need you to trust me and believe me when I tell you that my heart is with you. It always has been and it always will be.” He told, eyes boring into yours, pleading. “...But a part of me feels like when all of your grief is gone and you feel better about everything. About your mom, your dad, everything. You won’t...need me anymore and you’ll try to push me away because maybe then you’ll realize that you don’t really feel that way about me. You just thought you did because…because I was there for you when you needed me to be.”

“Oh.” You scoffed, eyebrows raising. “You kiss someone else, one of our friends, and I’m the one who’s feelings are being doubted?”

JJ just sighed, stepping impossibly closer to you. One of his hands reached out to caress your face, this time you let him. “...I love you.” He said softly. “I don’t know how else to say it.”

“How about how you show it?” You whined, eyes getting teary and voice wavering. You gently grasped his hand, dragging it away from where it was cradling your face. “I am not using you to make myself feel better, JJ. What I feel for you is not a product of my grief or fucked up life or because you were there for me at just the right time. And maybe I needed the time to realize that before but I know it, now. I am sure that I love you but now I need you to be sure that you love me back. Okay, so why wouldn’t you just tell me about the kiss? If it didn’t mean anything, why didn’t you say anything?” You explained, two single tears running down your face.

Suddenly, JJ’s phone started to go off, notification after notification. You let go of his hand, using your own to wipe your tears, as he fished for his phone in his pocket.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, walking in the direction of the Surf Shack.

“What?” You asked, voice still off from crying and you followed behind him.

He rounded the corner to find Kie and Pope pulling apart from a hug, you could only wonder what they were talking about. You didn’t miss the way both of their eyes went between you and JJ. Between JJ’s red face and your tear stains, they probably had questions. You wouldn’t be surprised if they heard the heated conversation.

“Pope.” JJ started. “Just got a call from Guffy. Somethin’ happened to your pops.”

“LET ME KNOW IF I’M HURTING YOU, OKAY?” Sarah cooed, planting a bandage on Heyward’s hairline. By the time the six of you arrived, the older man was hunched over, beaten and bloodied. Not too badly but bad enough for someone like Heyward. 

“You’re doin’ just fine.” Heyward told Sarah, wincing as she fully secured the bandage and walked away. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“Pop,” Pope started, walking closer to his father. “What happened?”

“Oh, I should’ve known better.” Heyward started, lightly touching the bandage on his head. “He came in just as I was about to lock up. Caught me by surprise. Once he had me down, he put his knee in my chest,” You cringed at the thought. “...and he asked me about that…about that key. From that drawing you showed me. And in case you’re wondering,” The older man gaining his sass back as he spoke. “I ain’t tell him nothin’.” He told the group of you, a hand on his hip with his lips pursed before his eyes went back to his son. “Now did you track it down?”

Pope fished around in his back pocket, pulling out a slim, gold key with a red string attached. The five you surrounding the father and son had sly smirks on your faces.

“I found it in Mee-maw’s old apartment above the pharmacy, just like you said.”

“...Shit, boy, you should’ve gave this to me. I wouldn’t have had to take a beatin’.” He spoke, shocked by the sight of the key as he twirled it between his fingers. “What’s the big deal? It ain’t worth anythin'. Why they want it so bad?”

“I don’t know.” Pope shrugged along with the rest of you. “First, I get this letter telling me that I need to go to Charleston. And then I meet this rich lady who wants me to give her a key that I didn’t even know was in my family.” Pope explained enthusiastically. 

“Well, don’t y’all just sit here whinin’ about it.” Heyward scolded the group of you sporting long faces. “Figure it out.”

Pope’s face twisted at his father’s words as he shook his head. “No.” He said firmly. “I’m just gonna give the key to that lady. It’s not worth-”

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Heyward interrupted. “Did I raise you to back down from a fight?” 

Pope shook his head. “...No, sir.”

“Well, all right.” Heyward nodded, admiration is his eyes. “Now, I didn’t think ‘bout it before. I admit that. But now…” He trailed off, eyes on the key in his hand before pointing to the injury on his head. “Now? I’m interested.” He smiled smugly. “Did they say why they wanted it?”

Pope drew his lips into a thin line. “Somethin’ about an old cross. I think it might be some kind of lost treasure.”

“You know who you should talk to?” Heyward suggested, leaning forward. “Your great-grandmother.”

JOHN B STOPPED THE VAN IN FRONT OF SHADY ACRES NURSING HOME. It was the next day, the group of you agreeing to put it off until then considering it was a little drive away. Pope was the first out of the van, Kiara following as JJ got out of the passenger seat.

“Hey, um…” Pope started, looking up at the building. “I think I’m actually gonna do this one by myself.” It seemed like a general statement but his eyes kept zoning in on key. 

“...You sure?” Kie asked, half-way out of the van doors.

“Yeah.” Pope shrugged. “I can handle it, I don’t really need you, so…” The clear attitude in his voice had you and Sarah, who were still seated, cringing in the van, looking anywhere but at the two. You figured whatever they talked about in the shed wasn't as good as it seemed. Maybe that wasn't a happy hug...

“Oh, we’re just all one big happy family today, aren’t we?” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood. Now that he mentioned it, it did seem like all the “couples” in the group were off. Even John B and Sarah hadn’t talked since yesterday afternoon or all this morning.

Pope simply looked at the blonde before walking off, a gloomy expression on his face. John B restarted the van, ready to drive off while Pope did his task.

“OF COURSE I THANKED TOPPER.” Sarah whispered as you, her, and Kie walked back towards the van slowly. John B had made a pit-stop at a burger place where you, Sarah, and Kie went to get milkshakes. John B and JJ were inside the vehicle, it looked like they were having a hushed conversation of their own. “He saved my life, and I’d put him through so much already.” She added, sipping on her milkshake as you did the same, Kie nodding. “And you’d think that that is the crime of the century.”

“Tell me about it.” Kiara said. “All of this crazy shit’s happening, and Pope is giving me the silent treatment for not being in love with him.”

You gulped down the rest of you shake at her words. “I think it’s more so due to the fact that you led him on as if you were in love with him, but hey,” You butted in bluntly, sending a tight-lipped smile Kiara’s way. “What do I know?”

“People can’t control their feelings. You can’t force yourself to…love someone who you just don’t.”

“No,” You dragged out. “But people can control how they interact with those people. Kissing someone, sleeping with someone? That doesn’t exactly scream ‘I’m not in love with you’.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Kie stopped walking, turning to you. “You don’t speak to me for days and then when you do it’s the same passive-aggressive bullshit? I mean, seriously, what’s your deal?”

You stopped in your own tracks from where you had taken a few steps forward, turning to face the girl while still sipping your milkshake. “Does Pope know?”

Kie rolled her eyes and threw her hands out, Sarah watching intently. “Does Pope know what?”

“That you kissed JJ.” You said bluntly, eyes staring into hers.

"Wh-*cough*-What?!" Sarah's eyes went wide as she choked on her milkshake.

“‘Cause if he doesn’t and he’s already pushing you away like this? I can’t imagine how much he’ll hate you when he finds out.” You shrugged.

“...If.” Kiara corrected, shifting her. “If he finds out.”

You pursed your lips, looking up at the sky as you pretended to think while you shook your head. “When.” You corrected her correction before turning on your heel and walking towards the van. 

“I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU’RE RELATED TO DENMARK TANNY.” John B exclaimed. You’d all returned to The Marina just as it had started to drizzle where Pope explained how his grandmother told him all about how Denmark Tanny and his wife, Cecilia, were Pope’s ancestors. “Are we in the presence of a royal?” John B teased, the six of you camped up under a roof of one of the shops.

“A king? We shall crown him.” JJ joked alongside JB, planting an imaginary crown on Pope’s head. “All hail the Lord of Tannyhill. We are not worthy!” He continued, the rest of you joining in on the chant before Pope stopped you all with a chuckle.

“Everybody relax. Can we relax, please?” He requested, the laughter fading lightly before his face faded into something more serious. “...I just keep thinking about the letter. The one Limbrey sent? It had the wheat symbol on it.” He pointed out. “That must mean it had something to do with the Royal Merchant.”

“Yeah. Somethin’ seems fishy…” JJ threw in.

“But if we find that cross, we can split it like we were gonna split the gold.” Pope continued, gleefully.

“And live happily ever after?” An uninvited voice rang out, the group of you turning to find none other than Carla Limbrey and her live-in bodyguard approaching. You all straightened, the expression on your faces going hard.

“You assaulted my father.” Pope was the first to speak, his lips curled in anger as he took steps towards the woman only to be pushed back by her accomplice. 

“Oh, I didn’t assault anybody.”

“He can identify the psycho from a mile away.” Kie assured, Carla turning to her.

“Why would my employee…” She trailed off, turning back to Pope. “Assault your father? That's absurd.” She laughed, like the whole ordeal was humorous. “Listen,” She started, limping towards Pope. “We can keep on negotiating but the fact is, I want the key.” She explained, her employee pushing Pope up against a support beam causing you all to jump up.

“Hey!” JJ shouted, being the closest to Pope.

“And I won’t stop until I have it. I don’t have a choice, which means you don’t either.” She spoke solely to Pope. She stared at him intensely, her gaze never wavering.

“It’s Limbrey, right?” You piped up, her eyes turning to you as you leaned against the wooden railing of the dock, swinging the gold key around your finger. “Is this what you’re looking for?”

“...Yes, it is.” She said, her voice straining as she walked towards you slowly. 

“Looking at the tide right, I’d say it’s about…” You taunted, dangling the object dangerously over the water as you peaked at the waves then back at her. “Twenty feet deep out there? So, if I just threw it in the channel, the probability of you finding it again is slim to none.” You explained, sitting up straighter and extending your arm completely over the rail. “Wanna give it a shot?” You taunted, letting the key slip from your fingers.

“No! Hey!” Limbrey lunged forward, nearly tripping over her feet. She let out a sigh of relief when you swiftly caught key in your hand again before it even had the chance to really fall. “...Please don’t do that.” She pleaded. 

You could feel your eyes narrow as you relaxed against the rail again, the key fisted in your palm as you threw one arm out in the direction of her employee. “Get him to back the hell up.”

“...Back up.” She ordered, turning towards the man as he walked away from Pope, looking you up and down. Carla was quick to stand back in front of Pope once more, talking to him. “As I have told you from the beginning, I am willing to be reasonable.”

Pope eyes drifted towards you, probably catching on to the fact that the key you were torturing Limbrey with was fake, considering you were sure he had the real one on him. You nodded towards the boy, winking at him.

“...Okay.” He said, eyes back on Carla.

“Okay?” She seemed surprised at his cooperation.

“I’ll give you the key.” He told her, standing up straighter. “But I want the tape.”

“Of course-” Limbrey was quick to agree, but you felt like her employee was getting suspicious with the way he was eyeing you.

“Hey, Pope,” You stepped in, walking towards your friend. “You don’t have to do this, okay?” You told him, but your head was nodding slightly so he would catch your drift. Giving the key up to easily would only seem suspicious now. There had to be some kind of resistance on his end.

“No, it’s okay.”

“No, Pope, this is your family.”

“It’s fine. It’s okay…” Pope assured, putting his hand out for you to give him the key. “This is about your dads.” He added, eyes fleeting between you and John B. “That’s way more important.”

“Oh, you’re a good friend.” Limbrey sighed as you planted the key in Pope’s palm. 

“The tape?” Pope turned back to her, eyes never leaving hers. 

“Yes, give him the tape.” She ordered the man she brought with her, watching as he pulled a red tape recorder from inside of his jacket, handing it slowly to Pope. He didn’t hand Limbrey the key until the player was in his hand. “You know…” She started again, leaning into him. “I wish that you’d come to this decision earlier. We could’ve avoided all this unpleasantness.” She said before turning and walking off, her employee following behind but not before turning around with a smug smile on his face.

“It was nice seein’ ya, Pope.”

“Walk away before I beat your ass with her cane.” You told him bluntly, him offering the six of you one last grin before strutting off. You watched the pair leave, standing next to John B as a smile grew on your face. “How long do you think we have until she realizes she has your father’s old key?”

“Ten minutes.” He replied. 

Just then, Pope turned around with both of his arms out, a small relieved smile on his face. “Whose idea was the fake key?”

You and John B turned your attention to JJ who was trying to conceal the smile on his face. “Hmm, I don’t know. Should we tell him?” John B teased, throwing an arm around JJ’s shoulders.

“Did hell freeze over?” Pope asked, astounded.

“I’m impressed.” Kiara said. “Maybe you are good for something.”

“Even a blind pig can find an acorn at times.” JJ joked as Pope and JB tickled him, poking his ribs and ruffling his hair. 

“We gotta take this tape to Shoupe.” John B smiled, juggling the object in his hand as the released the blonde.

“Yes sir.” JJ jumped up. “Ward Cameron we’re comin’ for you, big boy!”

You didn’t miss the look of despondence on Sarah’s face. It was the visual epitome of being stuck between a rock and hard place. You knew what it was like to know someone’s a bad person but still feel obligated to love them. You seemed so easily detached from your mother that you never stopped to consider that maybe Sarah was having a hard time doing the same with her father.

“WHEN I GOT DOWN TO THE TARMAC, I SAW THE SHERIFF LYING DEAD ON THE GROUND.” Gavin’s voice came from the tape recorder planted on Shoupe’s desk. John B had requested that you go in with him to give the evidence to Shoupe while the others waited, considering you had cleared his name in the first place, he figured your help could do no harm. “And then Ward asked me to fly the gold to Nassau and dispose of the gun. He’s protecting his son.” The former pilot explained, Shoupe’s eyes drifting upwards to stare at you and John B. “It was Rafe Cameron who killed Sheriff Peterkin. I gotta be honest with you…I’m terrified. If anything happens to me, I’m telling you, it was Ward Cameron.”

John B looked up at Shoupe and the FBI Agent standing behind him, a deadpan look on his face. “I told you Shoupe…” He started, shaking his head slightly. “Ward killed both of our fathers and Gavin, and now you know Rafe killed Peterkin.”

Shoupe just licked his lips and nodded, taking a quick glance at the agent behind him. “...I know, kid. I know.”

Your brows furrowed at this. During your last conversation with Shoupe, right after you’d told him to drop the charges and right before you left his office, he left you with a few last words...

“I don’t know if I believe all of this, kid. And I can’t promise that this enough to get your friend out and put Ward behind bars. Maybe one or the other…but not both.”

Leaning forward in your seat, you gained Shoupe’s attention as his eyes turned to you. “What does that mean? ‘Cause last time I was here you said that the outcome we have right now was nearly impossible.”

The man just sighed, slowly rising from his chair as it rolled against the floor. He put both of his hands on his belt and cleared his throat. “We’ve issued arrest warrants for both Ward and Rafe…as well as your mother and any department employees involved. Rafe is currently in custody, the other warrants are being carried out as we speak. I can’t give ya anymore than that.”

“LLLLADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WARD CAMERON, KING OF THE KOOKS, IS GOING TO JAIL!” JJ’s voice boomed from the inside of The Chateau. The guys were inside celebrating Ward’s takedown as you rounded the corner of the porch, finding a solemn Sarah sitting criss-cross on the patio furniture with Kiara right across from her, giggling at the guys antics.

You sat the opposite side of the blonde girl just Kiara looked to her, the brown-haired girl’s face falling at Sarah’s expression.

“...Do you regret it?”

Sarah was quick to reply, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “No.” She stated firmly, biting the inside of her cheek. “He deserves all of it, and I know that. It’s just…” She cut herself off with a teary sigh, her voice returning with a quiver to it as her eyes filled with tears. “He’s still my dad. I can’t just pretend like he’s not.”

“No, I get it.” Kiara tried to comfort, scooting closer and planting a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. “I understand-”

“But you don’t, Kie.” Sarah blurted, a tear falling from her eye as her nose and cheeks took on a shade of red. “I know you’re trying to help but you just don’t get it...” She said, rising from her seat and swiftly walking off into the direction of the backyard and out into the rain. 

You didn’t know if it was weird of you to go after her, considering Sarah and Kie were closer but you figured after Kiara sat there with no intention of getting up that it was okay to do so. Getting up from your seat and walking off to follow Sarah, you stepped out into the drizzling rain, going towards her figure that was stood at the edge of the tall grass on the shore of The Marsh, her arms hugging herself as she looked out at the water.

As you got closer and stood next to her, you could hear small sniffles leaving her nose. Maybe she didn’t regret helping turn her dad in but it was clear as day to anyone that she was upset.

“I know I’m probably not the person you want to talk to…” You spoke up after a few moments of silence, Sarah looking at you briefly. “But I think I’m the only person who can relate to how you’re feeling, right now.”

“You don’t have to come out here in the rain to make me feel better.” She sighed, fully turning to you now, damp strands of hair sticking to her cheeks. “Especially after everything I’ve put you through.”

“Sarah, I already told you that I forgive you-”

“But why?” She cried, swinging her arms out to her sides. “It would be one thing if I didn’t believe you but I made your life a living hell and I didn’t even like my brother then. How can you just forgive me so…so easily?”

“Because it wasn’t your fault.” You told her, moving your own pieces of damp hair out of your vision. “I know that right now you probably think you’re no better than them, your dad and brother. But you are not responsible for the bad things that they did to other people. Yes, you made my life hell and maybe I’ll always hold that small grudge against you. But you didn’t kill Peterkin, and you didn’t kill my dad, or Big John, or Gavin.” You explained. “And unlike them, Sarah, you owned up to your mistakes. You apologized to me and Kiara and you’ve become a better person for it.”

“..But why do I feel bad for still loving him?” She whined, tears falling faster now. “I tore myself away from Rafe after he tried to drown me but my dad…he’s still my dad. And I know he’s done bad things, really bad things, and I will never forgive him but for some reason, going against him puts this pit in my stomach that I can’t get rid of because ...he’s my dad.”

“But that’s the thing, Sarah,” You began, stepping closer to her. “He’s not your dad anymore.” You told her, putting a hand on her upper arm gently. “The way I think of it? He’s just a shell of the man you used to know. Like with my mom — I know it seems like I’m okay and that I hate her and that’s that, right? But that’s not true. I miss my mom. So much. But not the mom that being hunted down by the police right now.” You explained, your own voice wavering. “I miss the mom that would listen to my shitty guitar playing after my dad taught me chords and convinced me I was the greatest in the world. I miss the mom that would make cookies with me in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. The mom I miss would never do the things that the woman I know now has done. Any of it. And I know it’s a hard thing, to separate who you grew up with and who you’ve come to know but Ward isn’t the father you knew, Sarah. He’s the monster you know now.”

Sarah just sniffled and nodded, processing your words as she wiped the tears and rainwater from her face.

“...And as for that grudge?” You started, a small smile on your face. “Maybe I’d be more inclined to let it go if you helped me out with something. Just a small little side quest…” You shrugged cutely as her brows pinched together. “Got any clue where Rafe would hide a stolen dog at Tannyhill?”

You managed to get a small chuckle out of the girl before her phone started to ring, Sarah fishing the device out of her back pocket — Topper’s contact card bright on display as her eyes darted to yours.

“We might have to postpone that heist…” She said, answering the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Topper’s voice came through, his voice faint and distorted through the phone. “Sorry to be the, uh, bearer of bad news here but…they’re coming for your dad.” He told her, Sarah letting out a deep breath. “My grandpa just signed the warrant.” He explained. You forgot his grandfather was a judge. “So, if you have anything you want to say to him, I would do it now. Just wanted you know.”

“Thanks.” Sarah replied, voice small and weak as she stared at her sneakers. She removed the phone from her ear and ended the call, sighing deeply.

You shot her a tight-lipped smile, a look of pity. “I’ll get everyone and we’ll go with you.”

THE TWINKIE WAS GOING AS FAST IT COULD DOWN THE NARROW STREET WHEN THREE COP CARS SPED BY,  headed in the direction of Tannyhill.

“Shit…” Kie breathed, eyes trailing the speeding vehicle as she looked out of the window.

“Oh my God,” Sarh sighed, eyes wide as the severity of the situation set in. “Can we please hurry? I need to be there for Wheezie.”

“You think I wanna miss this?” John B said bluntly. Ouch. The statement and the way he said it even hurt you, so you weren’t surprised by the mean side-eye that Sarah gave him from the passenger seat. 

The four of you in the back exchanged glances. There was a lot going on and it was difficult to know what each of your worried looks were for — Sarah, John B, or Sarah and John B’s relationship.

It wasn’t long before the van pulled up right behind one of the parked cop cars outside of Tannyhill, right outside the concrete wall. You all nearly tripped over one another scrambling to exit the van before it even came to a full stop — the sound of police chatter, footsteps, and sirens in the distance. 

You all stood on your tiptoes, peering over the wall.

“Holy shit.”

“I can’t see, bro.”

None of you had a good view but you could see a small swarm of officers running towards the dock where Ward kept his boats while Rose stood helplessly by the door. 

“Screw it.” John B said out of nowhere. “I’m going over.” He warned before hurling himself over the wall, the five of you watching as he landed on the other side. You looked at each other before following his lead, landing in the grass.

You all jogged through the freshly cut grass, approaching the doors where Rose stood just in time to see Wheezie rushing out as Rose tried to stop her.

“What’s going on?” The young girl asked, eyes on the huddle of officers by the water. “Why are the police here?”

“Wheezie…” Sarah called her sister’s name in relief, walking faster in order to reach the girl and pull her into a hug.

“Why are the police here again?” Wheezie asked, her voice soft and curious. 

“Go inside,” Sarah told her, caressing the back of her head before pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Don’t come out.” Wheezie looked at her older sister with confusion and concern before nodding and turning to go back inside, a teary-eyed Rose guiding the girl back inside.

You couldn’t help but subconsciously notice that there was no sign of Marley — no paw prints, no food bowls, no leash, nothing. Not that he’d take that much care of her anyway. But it didn't look like a dog was being kept here. You felt bad for thinking about that at a time like this but if Rafe wasn’t holding her at Tannyhill, you could only think of one other place he’d take her, and if you were right then getting her back just became a whole lot more dangerous…

“Sarah,” Rose called before shutting the patio door, her voice scratchy. “Your father, he…he’s out on The Druther’s.” She told her, Sarah wasting no time in jogging in that direction before Rose could finish. “But I don’t think you should- Sarah!”

She tried to call her back but it was no use and the rest of you could do nothing more but follow Sarah out to the docks. Through the grass and over the wood, about six or so officers formed a line, effectively blocking the entrance as the group of you approached the scene.

“Dad!” Sarah cried, seeing her father’s figure on the third story of The Druther’s.

The officer’s attention turned to you all, holding their hands out to stop you all from going any further when Shoupe’s voice rang.

“That’s Sarah Cameron! Let her through!” He ordered, motioning you all through with one hand as the officers stepped to the side.

“What are you doing here, Sarah?!” Ward called tearfully from the top of his boat. He looked genuinely terrified. 

“Dad, what’re you doing?!” She called from the docks as you all walked behind her, forming a sort of line on the wooden surface, officers on each side.

“Vic, you gotta get her out of here!” Ward’s attention went to Shoupe, pleading with the man. “She can’t be here right now!” He was straining his voice so much, you would think he was about to die, not be arrested.

“Just come on in, and you can talk to her!” Shoupe tried to reason, throwing his arms out in Sarah’s direction, trying to find anyway for Ward to turn himself in.

“Sarah, I’m so sorry, baby,” He continued to cry, going inside of the cockpit for a moment. It looked like he was flipping switches which made the officers weary. “I can’t!” Suddenly, the anchor started to reel itself out of the water.

If they didn’t get any units in the water by now or anytime soon, you feared Ward would get away. Once again.

“What’re you doing?!” Sarah called, stepping closer to the edge of the dock. “Dad, no, no, no!”

“Ward!” Shoupe stepped in, applying more pressure. “This ain’t gonna end the way you want it to!” Your prayers were answered and Shoupe’s warning was proven when four police water units came cruising towards The Druther’s, lights and sirens on display. “You don’t need her seeing this!”

Sarah’s jaw couldn’t close as she eyed each of the approaching boats, one after the other. Anyone within five feet of the girl could hear her labored, stuttering breaths. Just then, Ward started to climb down to the second level of the boat, causing Sarah to cry out once more.

“Dad, don’t leave!” Her voice cracked, at a pitch so high you’d question if it was even her voice. “Where are you going?!”

“I love you!” Ward assured, landing on his feet on the second level deck.

“Hey! Damn it, Ward!” Shoupe cursed. “Turn it around and get back in here!”

“Dad! No!” Sarah cried hysterically, watching as Ward closed himself off in the boat where no one could see him. The four units in the water were closing in on him —where did he plan to go? “Please don’t leave!” Sarah croaked one last time when suddenly the bottom of The Druther’s blew, sending a wave of silence over everyone.

Even the boats in the water slowed, not wanting to get to close to the wreckage as it blew again, each blast getting higher and higher, hitting each story of The Druther’s. Each boom sent each of you back a step, hearing Sarah’s breath hitch was what broke your heart.

You all threw your arms up, shielding yourselves from the debris and shrapnel that was now flying in the air as easily as dust. A thick cloud of dark grey filled the air, metal and other materials floating down into the water as everyone just stared.

It was silent until Sarah started to hyperventilate, a hand on her chest as you watched as her knees began to give out. “No, no.” She struggled to get out, a hand hovering over her throat as she cried. “Dad…dad!” You know someone should’ve helped her or comforted her but it was like none of you could. You were frozen in place, watching the boat go up in flames.

You couldn’t believe this. No, really. You couldn’t. Despite the fire and the smoke and the boat now in pieces, you couldn’t believe the sight in front of you.

Ward was dead?

You were supposed to believe that Ward was dead? 

How could any kind of universe allow him the easy way out? How was that fair?

You didn’t even really notice Topper, who’d appeared out of nowhere but seemingly just on time, catch Sarah just as she fell. You saw it out of you peripheral, but your sights never left that burning boat.

Ward…was dead.

Ward Cameron was dead.

next chapter>

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[woso-dreamzzz]

School

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You have a bad first day

The school is fancy.

It's private (the only one that Magda and Pernille could find on short notice) and you get put into a fancy uniform.

Magda thinks that a school blazer is too much for such a little girl to be wearing but it was the uniform policy so she bought it. You look incredibly grown up, perhaps too grown up for the little baby that used to sleep in her arms and cry when she hid your dummy.

Now though, she's the one crying.

"Magda," Pernille whispers," Smile. You're going to make her cry too."

Magda doesn't really think you need her help for that. You cling to her hand tightly, scuffing the ground with your fancy new shoes. You flinch every time a child goes past you and you worry your bottom lip with your teeth.

Magda puts on the biggest, fakest smile she can manage and tries to look encouraging.

You give her a weak smile back before shuffling forward and then back towards her again.

"Hallo!" A stern looking woman says from the classroom door.

"Hallo," You whisper back.

Magda stiffens when the woman gives you an odd look. She knows why though. You speak German very well but on certain words, you have the tiniest of accents and it's clear that this woman picks up on it.

Magda tightens her grip on you as Pernille talks to the teacher.

"Hey," She says," I love you."

You look towards the classroom where kids your age are running about and screaming.

"Don't want to," You whisper," Morsa, I don't want to."

"I know," She says," I don't want you too either but we're both going to be very brave and get through today."

"No," You say," No, I don't want to be brave. I want to go home." The little crinkle in your brow appears and your bottom lip wobbles.

"It's okay," Pernille joins you both now, cupping your face and smoothing out your crinkle," Just a few hours and then we'll pick you up and we'll go back to training."

You sniffle. "I want to go to training now."

"I know," Pernille says," But you've got school first."

You huff and look back at the classroom and the stern lady waiting for you.

"The sooner you start school, the sooner you can leave," Morsa promises you and that's enough to get you moving.

Two hours into your school day, you decide that you don't like it at all.

Your classmates are mean and the little boy who sits next to you pulls your hair and spits. It's very gross.

Your teacher isn't nice either. You don't think she likes you either. She's kind of mean and speaks very quickly to you as if to catch you out with something.

Your German is good and Momma and Morsa have been teaching you to read at home but it's a little slower reading in German than your other languages.

You know you can read Swedish and Danish well because Momma and Morsa focus on that at home and you can read English too because sometimes Jessie and Niamh would help you while you sat on the bench with them.

You didn't really have anyone to read German with but you know how to read in your other languages so it's kind of the same and all you need to do is sound out the words.

You don't know why she's picking on you because everyone else is struggling too. It's not your fault.

"We speak German here. Not English," She says a bit spitefully but, strangely, in English when you pass her for breaktime.

That makes an icky feeling appear in your stomach and you sit by yourself at break on the playground.

Your other classmates seem to have picked up on the weird atmosphere your teacher has created around you because nobody comes to play with you.

You've never really had much interaction with kids your age so you're not too sure whether you should invite yourself into someone else's game or wait for them to invite you. You don't want to make people not like you more.

So, you sit at the very edge of the playground and dig at some weeds with a stick. You want to go and play football with the boys but you saw them turn away another girl who wanted to play earlier so you stay far away.

Your day doesn't really get better because after break your teacher is still very mean and she gets an annoyed and somewhat angry look on her face when you burst into tears.

She sends you by yourself to the reception lady, who takes one look at you and gives you tissues to dry your face before calling Momma and Morsa.

The receptionist woman is nice and you wish she was your teacher instead of the mean woman because she shares half her chocolate bar with you while you wait.

Momma and Morsa come quickly, still in their training kits and you burst back into tears all over again.

You curl yourself into Momma and sob. "Don't want to do school anymore," You choke out," Don't make me. No more!"

Momma hushes you softly, tucking you into her so you have some semblance of privacy. She picks you up too as Morsa spits venom at the poor reception lady who, quite graciously, accepts it in her stride.

"So mean," You explain to Momma as you both sit in the car," She's so mean. Momma, she's picking on me." You tug off your blazer and pull at your shirt. "I don't want to go back."

"I know you don't," Momma says," But-"

"No!"

Morsa opens the door and slams herself into her seat in annoyance. "That foul, foul, pathetic excuse for a teacher," She bites out," I told you, didn't I, Pernille? That I got bad vibes off her?!"

"I know, Magda," Momma says quietly," Let's just get back to training and discuss it tonight..." She jerks her head towards you and you know that means this conversation will be had when you're in bed and asleep.

You wish they would include you but you also know that this conversation will be long and boring with lots of adult topics that will probably get confusing.

"Hey," Morsa says, wiggling your knee as Momma starts the car," We're going to head back to training. Your gloves are in your practice bag, if that will make you feel better?"

You nod.

That would make you feel better.

[1980shorrorfilm]

omg omg someone who writes for rain?! in heaven. can i request a fic where reader is hanging out with the group, and andy starts embarrassing rain in front of reader, andy being like “well, rain thinks you’re cute, she says it all the time.” just spilling all of the things she rants to him about. stuff like that. sorry if that’s not descriptive enough 😭

and if that idea sucks maybe jealous rain 😝

crush

pairing…rain carradine x fem!reader

before you read…first fic without heart wrenching angst (i think?) suggestive language. jealous rain >:) silly andy >.<

rain tuned out of the conversation a while ago.

something about some ghost in the mines that tyler swore was tugging at his pants– she didn’t really know, or care. not when your pretty head rests comfortably on her lap, body sprawled across the hard floor.

the aching in your back goes unnoticed, only paying attention to the traces rain made on your forearm, an invisible drawing that seemed to soothe her. just from the touch, you can assume it’s letters, names. your name, her name– both, together.

you’re laughing in between sips of the sour alcohol bjorn had stolen from the inventory, none of you minding the horrid taste; not when it did its job of numbing the physical and mental exhaustion from the hours prior. the working until you couldn’t feel your hands or feet. the dreaded separation from your favorite person.

for you, today actually wasn’t that terrible.

it couldn’t be. not when you started the day snuggled into rain’s side, having fallen asleep in the tight space of her bed. you were too sleepy to drag yourself to your own home, and rain always offered for you to stay the night. she liked having someone else with her who wasn’t andy, though she loved him, you were…you.

sweet. funny. charming. caring. fucking perfect and too good for this place you’re forced to call home, somewhere that seems to get dimmer each passing day. luckily, she had you as a light, something to follow, to make her feel sane.

she ate breakfast beside you, making andy sit alone, watching you two, observing every little detail of your interactions a bit too hard. rain’s stutter. her pale skin flushing red. the bumping of your elbows when she’d laugh at something you had said. it wasn’t even that funny, andy had noted.

rain was simply in a daze, her point of view warped by something he had seen in rain’s parents. appreciation…devotion…endearment. when you’re around, her attention always shifted to you, not only like you’re the only one in the room, but on this planet in general.

and how weird, because with tyler, andy didn’t see any of that. rain hadn’t felt it. there was no need to see him, or to be with him, she was just there, like a spectator in her own relationship. she liked him, sure, but she’d come to find out there was simply nothing more. a friend, and just that.

maybe that’s why the breakup wasn’t hard, not something she had to second guess. it was right. spending that time that tyler used to take up, now with you, and it felt entirely different. not a chore, something she yearned for every passing minute of the day.

andy caught on early, and rain trusted him enough to be honest with how she saw you. every positive word she was taught, and that she could never apply to anything else on jackson’s star. just you. and, she trusts him to keep that stored in his memory, to not be spoken of or hinted at. she promised him she’d take out his chip if he ever repeated anything she’s ever said.

but, synthetics are not perfect.

at all.

“so…” kay speaks up when the room begins to get too quiet, the groups banter fading into the background, “care to explain where you were last night, y/n?”

her words are sharp and pointed, causing your friends to immediately turn their heads to you. the dumbasses are already snickering, ready to tease you for something that didn’t happen, and you’d burn under this spotlight if you were in some girl's bed. some girl that wasn’t rain, and if you were doing a lot more than talking nonsense until your eyelids grew heavy.

but, there was no need to spare them those details— because that would open a whole other can of worms that you wanted to unpack at this moment. more accusations you weren’t ready to argue.

especially when rain is looking at you with that coy smile on her beautiful face, flustered that your friends think you were getting laid, when you were actually clinging to her body like your unconscious life depended on it. your eyes fall to her pink lips, your breath catching in your throat momentarily before you attempt to shrug off kay's question.

you hum, “i don’t kiss and tell.”

“holy shit.” “nuh uh– do tell.”

bjorn and tyler lean forward, navarro sighing at the men. they weren’t going to let this go, not until their curiosity was solved, and you realize maybe you should’ve just kept your mouth shut. you had unintentionally thrown them a bone, considering you were usually private about whoever you ‘liked.’ and they think you’re dropping a bomb on them.

the last girl you took some interest in, having been one of the officer's daughters you simply thought was decent looking. you were lonely, and rain was seeing tyler at the time.

it was nothing, and kay was the only one you had mentioned this to– when you had also expressed that her brother and rain were weird together –coming from a place of protection, and jealousy. and that’s exactly where kay’s mind goes in this moment, her big brown eyes widening at the sudden realization.

“no way– it’s that redhead you were drooling over, isn’t it?”

fuck. your stomach drops. the smile fades from rain’s face while you bury yours in your hands, trying to laugh it off. that doesn't help, rain thinks you're simply embarrassed at the revelation. you listen to the stupid giggles from everyone in the room, except rain. and andy, but that’s a given.

“drooling over, huh?” tyler taunts, and you can feel rain stiffen. her fingers no longer making gentle traces on your skin, and you take this as an opportunity to sit up, rolling your eyes. you were definitely not drooling over her, and you most definitely didn’t need them, and more importantly, rain, believing that was– is true.

“kay is speaking out of her ass,” you clarify, shooting the brunette a glare. the smile she wears fades quickly, doe eyes apologizing to you, but the damage is done. rain isn’t letting this go, she can’t, not when you’re in her bed most of the nights. not when she wakes up you practically on top of her. not when you kiss her cheek before parting ways.

“w-who is it?” rain attempts to ask in a monotone voice, pretending she doesn't care as much as she does. meanwhile, she's scanning her brain for any memory of a redhead that you've ever interacted with. she looks from you to kay, the girl already retreating back to silence and keeping her gaze in her lap.

“s’ nothing, rain,” you mumble, a shorter and simpler version than ‘i don’t care about any-fucking-body but you.’ still, it doesn’t ease the subtle tension between you. she thinks you’re keeping a secret. one that would hurt really bad, if it were true.

she laughs lightly, though it lacks enthusiasm, “only kay gets to know this shit?”

rain sounds offended when she had meant for her words to come out somewhat playful; prying without it being overtly obvious. it causes the air to still, your friends to exchange awkward looks, and for rain to gulp nervously. you think they’re waiting for you to speak, there's just...nothing to say.

it's so insignificant, you wish you could just laugh it off. and if rain weren't here, you might've been able to, but she seems to be truly fucking invested. the only time you dislike her stare, is now. when there's something behind her eyes that you cannot place, but makes you want to apologize. what for? in this moment, you don't know.

luckily for you, andy has accessed the situation, the cause of the tightness in the air that's making everyone, specifically you and rain, suffocate. there's a pause, and then his kind voice cuts through the silence.

“rain is only curious because of her emotional attachment to y/n. a…crush, is it?”

again, the room goes dead quiet. andy is looking around like he needs approval of the word that left his tongue— crush. it sounds foreign, you assume he had picked up on it from rain. but how silly it sounds, isn't your focus, the statement itself, is.

surely, andy's confused.

“that’s not– no, andy,” rain speaks firmly yet lowly to not grab any more attention from you or the group, which isn't really possible because you're all staring at him. he's wearing that polite smile on his face, that falters after rain's response.

“no?” he appears to block all of you out besides his sister, “you do, or you don’t, like y/n?”

“andy.” rain squeezes her eyes shut, hearing a stifled laugh from across the room, and a teasing whistle from bjorn. she can't even look at you to see your reaction; lips parted and staring blankly at the floor.

you're struggling to register what andy is insinuating, and it doesn't help that this is happening in front of the people you see every single day, already aware this is going to be one of those moments they bring up to laugh about. but rain, she took zero humor in this. she couldn’t even pretend to or pass this off as some sort of joke. she just wants to sink into the floor beneath her and disappear.

andy’s eyebrows dip into confusion, still staring at rain, “just this morning, you had told to me that y/n is a…‘cute’…sleeper? which isn’t the first, or second, or third time, you have said this.”

“the fourth? fifth?” bjorn prods, rain glaring at him narrowly that could kill him if possible, while navarro throws an empty can at his head. and you...your face is hot. hotter than the welding tools you dealt with routinely.

you know it’s the wrong time, but envisioning rain confine in andy about you, is unarguably, pretty adorable. you have to chew the hollows of your cheeks to prevent a grin from showing. and andy doesn't spare rain from any more embarrassment, answering bjorn's unserious question, “no, and no...i seem to have lost count.”

“are there any more drinks?” kay interrupts in a sweet voice, trying to shift the topic and maybe make up for accidentally causing this in the first place. thankfully, it works, and navarro replies with a 'yeah,' while tyler suggests kay to have water instead, then bjorn chiming in to ask what's wrong with the alcohol he 'risked his life' stealing. just a bunch of nothing, and rain isn't paying attention to any of it.

“i have to piss,” rain says under her breath, for only you to catch it. she gets up, making sure to glare at her brother a split second, then walking away. she’s genuinely upset, and now you feel bad, sighing and running your hands over your face. you mumble quietly, “not cool, andy.”

there's a flash of sadness in his expression, before he decides to speak again, “...rain thinks you're cool.”

you blink at him, not realizing your friends heard the comment, until there’s more hushed laughter.

“i mean…it’s sweet?” kay says with a smile, another attempt at making this whole thing less awkward. and she’s correct, it really is, just not when rain is the one left to feel uncomfortable to the point she doesn’t want to show her face. tyler then asks, “does rain think i’m cool?”

“no.”

this distracts the group, and though you’d love to brag about this, rain is still here. alone, in the bathroom, and you know she isn’t actually using it. she’s most likely muttering to herself and standing idly. you get up, letting your friends continue to poke fun at tyler, and follow rain’s footsteps, out of their sight.

you knock in a soft rhythm on the bathroom door.

“y-yeah?”

“it's me.”

seconds pass in silence, your friends hushing their voices so they can eavesdrop, then rain opens it. her eyes are on your shoes first, afraid to look up. “what he said...” she starts, but doesn't finish. what he said is so fucking true and i should've told you because it would spare me this embarrassment. she folds in her lips.

you step inside, shutting the door behind you, and leaning against it.

now, her pupils meet yours, worried, confused, curious. each second that you don’t speak, she wonders if she fucked up. if this is going to destroy your friendship, and basically ruin her life; because you are a major part of her life. the light at the end of her tunnel. her heart is in the deepest pits of her stomach, she wants to throw it up.

“a crush, huh?”

“please, don't,” rain lets out an exasperated sigh, already turning away from you, pale hands holding the sink as if to steady herself. her head is down, and she cannot see the hint of a grin on your face, staring at her red face through the mirror.

“i'm not making fun of you, rain,” you clarify, “just wish i knew sooner...and not from your brother.”

she agrees. but, her lips remain sealed. rain has never been this shy around you in her entire life, but then again, there’s never been a moment like this. where her stupid feelings are in your hands all because of andy. is protecting her from humiliation not included in his chip? she supposes it’s not entirely his fault. it’s not like she could shut up about you if she even tried.

“wanna crash in my bed tonight?”

this gets her full attention, blue eyes peering at your reflection in the glass, while you continue to talk, “you know...without andy there...just us...”

rain freezes. she doesn't answer you, and she doesn't even blink. the way the word 'us,' leaves your lips, timid, and makes her feel faint for a very brief moment. marking you two as something more than you already are. then, your gentle voice pulls her from her thoughts.

“i mean,” you shrug, “love him, obviously, but…don’t need him snitching on us.”

rain clears her throat— almost and somehow choking on her own saliva while she does so. you’re bold, having the knowledge she’s wrapped around your finger, and managing to pull her in even more, leaving her breathless and in a trance. her eyes flutter, nervously nodding her head, “y-yeah—yes.”

you smile amidst biting your bottom lip, rain’s gaze flickering to the tender skin.

“could we…go now?” rain suggests apprehensively, partly because the idea of returning to your friends like that didn’t just unfold terrorized her, and the other part…she just wanted to be in your bed. with you. alone.

and much to her relief, you nod, wanting the same thing.

that is, after andy is dropped off, of course.