#source: gave evidence to get someone put away for this shit

[eroticcannibal]

In light of recent maybe-news and some tumblr discourse, I'd just like to remind people that "16 is the age of consent" is not quite how it works and fucking people over 16 is still illegal if you groomed them. You can't just wait it out, and what can count as grooming is broad, and if grooming is established to have occurred before 16 then actions over that age that otherwise would be like, flirting or being nice, may be considered grooming too. Now if there will be a prosecution is a whole different issue, we know CPS don't give a shit in many cases. But legally speaking its a bit noncey. Even if theyre "legal". Just so we are clear.

[hello-nichya-here]

Can torture ever be justified in case if it was the only way to, let's say, get out the info that could save a massive amount of people that only one fucker knows but refuses to say? Like diffusing a bomb or something.

Let's ignore the fact that some people are literally trained to withstand torture for absurd amounts of time, that there are ways people have used to kill themselves before any torture could take place, that someone can just tell a lie they've practiced and sounds convincing to both stop the torture AND make their captors follow a wrong lead, AND that sometimes torture can fuck with people's minds so bad they wouldn't be able to tell you the information you want - or even their own name.

Torture is not effective in questionings exactly for the reason people wrongfully assume it would be effective: it makes people say literally ANYTHING to make it stop. Including things that aren't true.

Maybe the person who was tortured was so messed up that the facts are getting all confused in their head and the information is no longer correct. Maybe they are involved in the criminal operation, but don't have the information their captors want, so they'll eventually just make shit up so the pain will stop. Maybe they're completely innocent and will have to lie in a desperate attempt to save themselves.

That last one is the most important factor, because even today, in MANY parts of the world, innocent people get thrown in prison to rot EVERY SINGLE DAY, all because of "confessions" that they gave to the authorities after being tortured - see Japan with it's 99% conviction rate.

Did you think the line "Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law" was an empty threat? Yes, it is a threat. To anyone they deemed "suspicious", regardless of guilt. To anyone who either did something wrong or just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is an explicit threat TO YOU.

Trust me, you don't want to give the people who are openly saying "regardless of your innocence or guilt, from this moment onwards, our job is to find a reason to lock you up" legal permission to violate anyone's human rights, even if they are swearing to you they'll only use it on confirmed terrorists and what not. That shit is ALWAYS a lie, and even they have a law saying "you can only torture terrorists", the second they want to shut somebody up they WILL plant evidence, then the torture will just be used to get a confession, then they go straight to the execution.

If even one single person, no matter how bad they are, has their basic rights taken away, then everyone is in danger of going through the same. Surprise, surprise, the people in power see everyone who is not in their little club as equally disposable. You are no different from the worst of criminals in their eyes because you mean nothing to them.

I have three golden rules I think everyone should follow:

1 - Don't support anything that gives the government/police an excuse to kill people, even convicted criminals. It always leads to talking shit about them becoming illegal.

2 - Don't support anything that gives the police an excuse to convict people due to things they said while being harrassed, threatened, and/or tortured. It always leads to innocent people being framed.

3 - Do not support anything that makes imprisoning and/or killing people profitable for the goverment. It quickly makes faking evidence to destroy someone's life a source of easy money that the goverment will NOT reject.

As you can see, the idea of torture being allowed in any way violates rule two, so I'm saying PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM, OR SO HELP ME!

[indigoh4ze]

party || rafe cameron

warning- SMUT // vaginal fingering, eating out, vaginal penetration, mentions of intoxication

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a/n- so this is my first time writing for outer banks, im terrible at writing actual interactions so im sorry its so bad at first lmao. also disclaimer: rafe in this fic is nothing like he is canon, so his characterization is off. enjoy :)

also feel free to request for any outer banks characters i write for

turn on notifs here - @slvt4fakerealities-library - to be notified when i post a new fic

join taglist (add yourself to the outer banks section)

the lights were blazing, different colors zapping throughout the room as you made your way over to the couch. your head was slightly fuzzy from the intoxication, but you managed.

since the couch was empty, you took the chance to sprawl your whole body out on it, head on one arm and feet dangling off the other. you watched as everyone danced and made out and filled their bodies with even more toxins. soon, you found yourself just dazing up at the ceiling, lips opening and closing slightly as you lip-synced in a whispering tone to the loud music.

after what felt like hours, but could’ve only been a few minutes, you felt something nudge your thigh. without moving your neck, you let your eyes flash down to find the source of the movement.

hovering over you was rafe cameron. his dirty blonde hair framed his face messily, a single cross earring dangling from his left ear, a red solo cup in his hand as his free hand poked at your thigh.

“what?” you slurred, now moving up on your elbows and blinking back the haziness.

“i wanna sit,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. even in this state it wasn’t hard to notice how good the boy looked, tilting his head back and gulping down the liquid, eyes never leaving your own.

you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest and allowing rafe to throw himself onto the cushion. you were now facing his side, as his hands gripped your legs and pulled them back to their original position, except now they laid over his leg. giving him a curious look, you laid the side of your face on the back cushion and fidgeted with the bracelet around your wrist.

“shouldn’t you be like- getting shit faced or something.” rafe snickered at your words, sending you a glare before looking back down to his cup, which he was also mindlessly playing with.

“sorry, did i interrupt your little..nap?” he teased with a hint of amusement, referring to the previous state you were in, and you scoffed in return, mind clearing a bit more and making room for annoyance.

“whatever.” and then, you were pulling your legs off him and standing up, albeit wobbly as you almost fell to the side, caught by rafe’s firm grip around your arm.

“you good?”

“‘m fine,” you dismissed the boy, confused as to why he was even talking to you in the first place.

the truth was, you never liked him, he was rude and careless and selfish and way too much to put up with. but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the boy, and the tension that was always evident when the two of you were together.

but you always just pushed those thoughts aside, because even the thought of anything happening made your mind whirl with a plethora of emotions, not good ones by any means.

but then, you also couldn’t deny the recurring fantasies of things that could happen. could but wont, because he’s rafe cameron, and not even you’re desperate enough to be one of his bitches.

“hey?” a light tug of your arm pulled you back to the present, and you turned to see rafe at your side, cup forgotten as one of his hands molded around your waist and the other wrapped around your bicep to steady you.

“i’m really fine-.” you pulled away from him, and right as you did so, you felt someone back up on you, pushing you towards rafe and into his chest as a cold liquid spread from the lower half of your head and down your back.

you gasped in surprise, suddenly awake and alert as you sharply turned to see a boy standing there, cup tilted and empty as all its contents spilt on your back. he mumbled a quick apology, then took off laughing with his friends about something they said that probably wasn’t even funny.

“you sure about that?” rafe inquired, eyebrow raised in amusement as you stepped away from him, this time more cautiously. “c’mon, we’ll clean you up.”

although you wanted to say no and tell him to fuck off because you could handle it yourself, you were too exhausted from the long night to put up much protest other than a dramatic groan. then, you nodded, and rafe led you away from the crowd of people with a tug of your wrist.

—//—

now, you found yourself in a bedroom, rafes bedroom, waiting expectantly as you stood in front of the boy.

“what now?” you ask, palming your eyes and yawning, looking back at rafe with glossy eyes now, which were sending waves of tingles through the boys stomach.

“take a shower,” he implied, as if it was obvious. you scrunched your brows as he pointed to the bathroom on the other side of the room.

“i don’t have any spare clothes.”

“i’ll find you something to wear,” rafe shrugged, “go on,” he urged you to the bathroom, and you followed obediently, not having it in you to put up any sort of fight or ask questions.

“i’ll be right back,” rafe said from the room as you closed the bathroom door, only to hear the door to the bedroom close as well, meaning rafe left.

your mind was filled with the thought that he just ditched you, which was a possibility, but you ignored that thought and slipped your shirt over your head. once all the articles of clothing were thrown onto the cold tile floor, along with your shoes which sat messily in the corner, you lift a foot into the tub, stepping in.

immediately, you played with the oddly fancy knobs and managed to turn them on, warm water rushing through the shower head as your tilted your head back into it. the odd colored drink washed away from your hair, falling onto the floor of the tub and down the drain smoothly. you searched for soap, quickly cleaning up and scrubbing your hair twice for good measure. the smell of the soap reminded you of rafe, not surprising considering it was literally his own soap, you told yourself, annoyed by your current thoughts.

the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting your skin was enough to wake you up fully, but you were too lost in the blissful feeling of the water to pay much attention to your surroundings.

that was until you heard the door to the bathroom open, and you peaked your head through the curtain to find rafe, setting a towel on the counter, along with a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“who’s are those?” you questioned, making rafe jump as he realized you were watching him.

“sarah, i just took some from her,” he shrugged, and now you were even more confused.

first, he started talking to you randomly. then he’s helping you stand. then he’s taking you to his room..so you can shower. then he’s getting clothes for you to wear? how much did you have to drink? you started to ask yourself, questioning if this was all you just being wasted.

but it wasn’t, you felt pretty much fine. so there had to be something you were missing.

“just hurry up and change, i’ll be in the other room.” without another glance towards you, rafe left the bathroom, leaving you standing there, wet hair dripping forward from the way you had tilted your head to peek through. you went back to getting the soap out of your hair, rushing a bit more now.

meanwhile, rafe was in his room, just outside the bathroom, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. what the fuck am i doing? was his only thought.

he was honestly just confused as you were. it started when he saw you laying on the couch, mouth agape as your eyes sketched shapes on the ceiling. you just being there was tempting enough, but after that he just had to make his way over to you.

the two of you hadn’t had many conversations in the past, at least no genuine ones. most were just bickering, to be honest. but, just as you thought, the tension was undeniable. the feelings weren’t one sided, that was for sure.

when he caught you from falling over, you had leaned into his warmth and something almost turned in his stomach, which was quite nauseating on his side. it was annoying how fucking worked up he got around you. his mind would spin with options of what to do with you. did he want to just kiss you, fuck you or annoy you to death? he had no idea, but it was overwhelming, to say the least.

so when he invited you to his room to clean up, he wasn’t really thinking about it, because everything was happening at once. he even searched his sisters room for goddamn clothes for you.

interrupting his inner monologue, a door opened and out came your figure, except you weren’t wearing the clothes he had given you. no, you were just in your towel, actually. your skin looked slightly damp still, but your hair had been fluffed out and dried a bit from the towel.

“what are you- where are the clothes i gave you?” rafe asked, standing hesitatingly.

“dunno, wasn’t my style i guess,” you shrugged, looking around his room casually, taking in the very rafe feel it gave.

rafe just scoffed, messing his hair up and stepping closer. “well, you can’t really go out in a towel now, can you?”

this reminded you that there was still a party going on, although it was muffled and a bit quieter as people began to call it a night.

“then i won’t go out.” you stepped closer, looking up at rafe with an expression of uncertainty, trying to identify the look behind his eyes, figure out what the fuck he was up to. but you saw nothing. if anything, there were just a bit of nervousness hidden there.

“and what exactly do you plan on doing, then? since your obviously so wise.” now his guarded demeanor was back up, though he had taken a step closer so your heavy breaths were hitting each other perfectly, hands close to grazing one another’s.

“i don’t know.” then, another reminder flashed in your mind, and you looked back at rafe, “wait, why are you even here? isn’t this like- your party?”

“well, technically topper wanted a party, i wanted to go to bed and sleep for a year.” you chucked at this, figuring he had already gotten fucked up today and didn’t feel like another party. then, taking a risk, you leaned in just a bit, and rafe didn’t pull back. actually, he pushed forward, bringing his large hands to wheel around your waist, setting fire through your veins.

it was as if both of you snapped at the same time, first eyeing each others lips, then pushing forward and taking said lips between your own. the kiss was hungry and long waited, immense relief flushing through you, which took you both by surprise.

not even a few minutes of this passed by before rafe was tugging at the towel, still clinging around your naked body, droplets of water probably wetting his floor.

before letting the fabric reveal your body, rafe looked at you, pulling away for a moment and looking over your features, silently asking permission. a quick nod was all it took for the material to be ripped off and throw to the side, rafe spinning you both around until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto the mattress.

rafe looked over you with a smirk, eyes skimming over each and every detail of your body as if savoring it. a lick of his lips was all it took for your thighs to rub together, anticipation becoming too much as you waited for him.

this obviously pissed him off, because now his hands were tearing your legs apart, exposing your bare cunt inch by inch. “don’t even try to cover this up, got it?”

his voice was demanding, and luring, enough to make you nod, eyes softening in obedience, resulting in a snicker from rafe.

he leaned back in, delving down to leave kisses along your collar bone and suck on the flesh until bruises built against your skin, making you whimper and grab his dirty blond tressed with your fingers.

the sound of your whimpers made rafe go crazy, but he tamed the need inside him long enough to work his way down your stomach, placing teasing kisses down your inner thighs, but not once touching the spot you needed the most attention in.

“please, rafe,” you pleaded, not sure where it came from but gong with it once you saw the way he looked up at you, lust blown eyes and parted lips, waiting to be against your cunt.

“please what, hm? tell me what you want me to do, baby,” rafe cooed, fingers clenching around the inside of your thighs so he could push them apart and kiss your inner thighs, resulting in your back arching and hips begging upwards.

“n-need your mouth.” your face blushed with embarrassment of having to speak the words, but rafe just tsked, one hand moving upwards as he used his thumb to draw circles around your cunt, only passing your folds, earning a cry from you.

“i need more than that, doll.”

“fuck! please, j-just need your mouth on me, rafe, need to feel your mouth on my pussy, please!”

it seems that was acceptable for rafe, his thumb pausing just above your clit, then dragging down, finally grazing over the sensitive bud and stimulating it perfectly. your hips jerked at the sensation, but you grew accustomed to the feeling once he began working in small circles.

soon, his mouth was on your cunt, tracing paths over your folds and rubbing at the nub with a flat tongue, constantly sending shivers through you as you moaned with pleasure. his hands stayed at your side, ring clad finger’s cold against your flesh as his tongue dug inside you and began fucking your hole with no remorse.

the shapes and letters his warm tongue carved into you were almost too much, and when you reached down to rake your fingers through his hair, you fought the urge to push his head down and allow him to bury himself completely between your thighs.

“f-fuck! rafe, oh god, feels so good,” you sobbed, voice becoming louder as he hummed into you, a smirk on his lips, no doubt, from seeing you fall apart for him.

rafe pulled away within a second, licking his lip and keeping his eyes on your cunt, calculating his next move. you watched as he did so, suddenly feeling exposed as he raked his eyes over the slick coating your folds and your clit throbbing painfully through them. you squirmed at the emptiness, about to squeeze your thighs together, but you were too late as rafe brought a hand up, middle and forefinger pushing through your folds and embedding themselves within your walls.

a loud gasp escaped your lips as he did so, and you bit down painfully on the cushion of them as his fingers pumped in and out of you with nonstop speed. rafe looked up at you, his own lips parted beautifully as he watched moans flow easily out of your mouth.

“you like that, baby?” came his husky voice, only intensifying your already great pleasure that ran through your body. you nodded at his inquiry, not able to form coherent thoughts under his gaze. and that was when his fingers made a hook and pressed against your most sensitive part, making you squirm.

his smirk became bigger, and his fingers fucked you harder, a desperate attempt to ruin you right there. then he was leaning down, still pumping his fingers, and began to lick your clit with fervor, flicking the bud and sucking without resistance until your thighs were clenching around his head and you were a complete moaning mess.

“oh fuck- i’m g-gonna come rafe, pleaseplease,” you begged pathetically, having no time to be embarrassed as he hummed, nodding his head while still sucking on your clit, and permitted you to let go.

the orgasm took over in a huge wave, which came surprisingly fast, and the only thing on your mind was the bubbling in your stomach that was finally freed. moans and gasps fell from your lips as you wet his tongue and fingers, and rafe didn’t let a drop go to waste as he lapped up your slick, helping to prolong your orgasm.

hands reaching for his hair in dazed motions, eyes closed and lips parted, you mumbled, “t-too much, rafe,” which was the boys que to give you a final kiss on your clit, then remove his head and fingers from your cunt.

now, rafe stared up at you, swiping a ring clad thumb over his bottom lip, which was glistening with your arousal. his thumb then moved to enter your mouth, and you dutifully took in the digit, sucking with starry eyes, and whimpering when he removed it from your grasp.

rafe rose to his full height, still in his shirt and pants, which were no doubt keeping his hard dick from standing tall. suddenly, you felt that flush arise to your cheeks from your being nude, and you bit your lip and reached a hand out to grapple at his shirt. he took this as a sign to pull the material over his head, then going in for his buckle as well. the sound of the metal clinking as he loosened it from its straps was enough to send you into a spiral of anticipation, eyeing his clothed prick impatiently.

rafe had that smirk plastered to his face still, throwing his belt aside and then his pants, making sure not to go too fast as he tormented you.

you let out a whine as he hooked his fingers around his boxers, not pulling them down fully but revealing his v line. “rafe,” you pouted, and he decided to be nice and let them fall down, now unclothed as he kicked off his shoes and settled ontop of you, marking your chest and neck immediately.

sighing with content, you held him close and let his lips suck on your flesh, until the arousal was too much and he began to grind against you, slowly. your cunt was already becoming slick again as he rubbed against your thigh.

rafe lift himself up to his knees, pumping his cock, the point of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth in concentration. the image of your breasts on display for him, and your lips parted and chest thumping was enough to make the boy cum on the spot.

he raised a brow at you, making sure you were still okay, and once getting a quick nod, he pressed the head of his cock against your folds. in the next second, he was thrusting into you, earning a loud gasp from you, which he covered with a hand on your mouth.

“shh, ‘m gonna fuck you good, okay? just lay there and look pretty,” he teased, but you nodded, wanting nothing more than to do as he said.

the thrusts started out mild, but soon quickened tempo, hips stuttering against yours as he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled it over his shoulder. this allowed a better angle, and you moaned with him as he repeatedly pounded into your already sensitive cunt.

you slid a hand down your bouncing breasts and stomach, then to your throbbing clit, soothing it with your gentle fingers before rafe slapped them away, as if saying “mine.”

his own hand went around your propped up leg to thumb at your clit, whilst the other made a path over your hips and breasts, fondling with the mound of flesh and pinching your nipple.

the overstimulation was rushing through you violently, his thrusts becoming sloppy, orgasm at the brink. you watched his head fly back, eyes rolling and mouth a gape, hypnotized by how pretty he looked even when he was fucking you.

“rafe,” you repeatedly mumbled, forming no other words in your clouded mind.

“hm? does it feel good? d’you like the way i fuck you, pretty girl?”

“y-yeah, so good,” you hummed, your own head rolling back onto the pillow, hips thrusting up to meet his and satisfy the hunger that once again boiled in your core.

“i’m gonna cum on your tits, are you gonna be good for me?” he said just as your orgasm was about to wash you away, and you nodded fast, once again wanting to be the best you could for him.

then, you came, waves of pleasure splashing through you before he pulled out, still thumbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, using his free hand to fist his cock which hovered over your breasts.

you held your tits in two shaky hands, squeezing them together and massaging them while rafe came, painting your breasts and stomach until he had milked out every last drop he could. he mumbled yes’s and fuck’s, along with your name until his high died down.

breathing harshly, you set ur sight to the ceiling, deep intakes of air causing the ends of rafe’s lips to turn upwards slightly. he leaned down to place one last kiss on your flushed cheek before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you.

“let’s clean you up,” rafe said, turning to look at you, “the party’s not over yet.”

uhhhh yeah idk how i feel ab this i hope it wasn't terrible ig. reblogs appreciated :)

@o-rion-sta-r @saggyb1lls @rylynn-m @dobbysockcollection @arcaneslut @arianagreyy @el-imaskingforyourlefthand

[panharmonium]

THAT is the importance of an adult who Understands.

one of the things that i always come back to when i think about sasuke is that sasuke has virtually everybody in the village fooled.  you couldn’t find a more messed up kid in all the hidden leaf if you tried, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, because he can’t afford to acknowledge or display weakness - firstly, because weakness means he isn’t strong enough to take on itachi, and secondly, because signs of struggle on sasuke’s part might mean that an authority figure tries to involve themself in his life, and sasuke doesn’t want anyone interfering in something he sees as a personal quest.  he doesn’t see himself as a child who needs to be looked after by adults; he sees himself as an adult in a frustratingly small body, and he wants all the other adults to leave him alone and let him do what he needs to do.  he doesn’t want meddling.  he wants everyone who has the power to potentially keep him from getting what he most desires to remain oblivious to his true state of mind, to not look too closely, to never see a child in distress, because if he ever lets on that he doesn’t have his shit together, it’s possible that one of the leaf’s less negligent grown-ups will swoop down on him and start trying to intervene/“parent” him, which to sasuke’s mind just means “get in the way.”  

sasuke, who has long felt like he’s already an adult dealing with adult problems, won’t tolerate that.  so he masks his issues, to the point where he has virtually everyone around him completely deceived.  his regular schoolteachers don’t worry about him - he’s a high achiever, he gets perfect grades, he’s top of his class in everything, he doesn’t make trouble.  his classmates don’t worry about him - they buy the ‘i’m so cool, nothing fazes me’ act and worship at his feet, even as he demonstrates that he wants nothing to do with them.  the rest of the leaf village doesn’t worry about him, either - they see him as a source of village pride (and a source of entertainment/drama, like when they’re all so excited to watch The Last Uchiha fight for their nation during the chunin exams).  even though sasuke is so messed up on the inside, the exterior facade he presents to people is specifically designed to prevent any wondering about how he’s doing.  as far as the world can see, he’s doing Just Fine (and while everyone is busy not wondering about his health, he can get down to the business of getting his revenge).

sasuke’s strategy for relating to other people is, essentially, the opposite of naruto’s approach.  naruto, in his early childhood, draws as much attention to himself as possible, causing all sorts of mayhem, in the hope that someone, somewhere will see him.  he makes trouble and causes problems precisely because he desperately wants someone to acknowledge his pain, and that’s how he ends up landing iruka as an adult support figure, because iruka notices what’s happening and decides to get involved.  sasuke, in contrast to naruto, doesn’t want anyone to acknowledge or even notice his pain, because if they do notice it, they might try to stop him from pursuing what he thinks is the only way to alleviate it.  that’s not an acceptable outcome for him, so instead of making a scene and calling attention to himself, he hides in plain sight. 

sasuke doesn’t want people to get involved in his life.  he wants to be left to his own devices.  he doesn’t think he needs (read: deserves) anybody’s help, and some tiny part of him knows that a Responsible Adult might raise their eyebrows at what he’s doing to himself, so he uses his “high-achiever, too cool for school” persona to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.  and he almost succeeds - until kakashi enters the picture.  kakashi, who can’t be fooled.  kakashi, who has known from Day One, Minute One exactly what goal is driving all of sasuke’s high achievement, and who knows that sasuke is NOT okay, in either the head or the heart.  kakashi, who in the above gifset can tell that sasuke is having a crisis without even turning around.  kakashi doesn’t need to be shown evidence before he gets concerned.  he’s known from the very start that sasuke is struggling, because he lived through similar pains and tried to cope with them in similarly unhealthy ways (remember: “useless things like emotions only get in the way”/“having too many ties in this world will only lead you astray” + “everyone you’re talking about has already been killed”/“they’re all dead...because i wasn’t strong enough to save them”).

sasuke still tries to put up the front.  a few scenes prior to the above gifset, sasuke is the one who is making fun of naruto for freezing up - you’re not hurt, are you...scaredy-cat.  and he completely fools his peers with his attitude - sakura’s got stars in her eyes, naruto’s super jealous; both of them think sasuke’s So Cool and Super Powerful and Not Afraid of Anything!

but when sasuke himself is confronted with a serious, imminent threat to his life (one against which his supposedly “advanced” skills are useless, one from which he can’t protect himself; aka, one where he’s suddenly reminded that he’s actually a twelve year-old genin and his safety is out of his control, just like it was the night his family was murdered), he’s the one who panics.  the other kids are scared, too - but sasuke completely loses it.  he almost kills himself to get away from the intensity of his fear.  *cough* it’s the ptsd *cough* but anyway -

kakashi is able to sense this without even turning around.  he’s preparing to fight an aggressor under the least ideal circumstances possible - they were supposed to be on a mission where it was four people protecting one man, but because tazuna lied to them, they’re now in a situation where it’s one man protecting four people, including three children - and even with all of that competing for his attention, kakashi is still focusing closely enough on each individual kid to sense that sasuke is going off the rails.  without even turning around, he knows.

we all remember this, right?

it doesn’t matter how much of an act sasuke puts on.  kakashi has been there.  he knows better.  he can’t be fooled.  he calls for sasuke by name and pulls him back from the brink.

kakashi interrupts this crisis so effectively.  not only is he able to snap sasuke out of his panic, but he’s also careful to then extend his reassurance to everyone present, accomplishing the dual purposes of calming everyone else down and also redirecting attention away from sasuke’s more extreme reaction, which the others haven’t noticed yet.  it’s deftly done.  it addresses sasuke’s crisis on an individual level without putting him in the spotlight.  it works.  the way sasuke relaxes in that last gif...man.

calm down.  i’ll protect you with my life.

i’ve already talked a little bit about how much it would mean for somebody with sasuke’s particular history to hear that (especially when those words are spoken by an adult who follows through on the promise every single time), but here i just want to focus on the fact that the only reason sasuke is lucky enough to receive this reassurance in the first place is because kakashi isn’t fooled by sasuke pretending he doesn’t need to hear it.  kakashi and the kids are very new to each other at this point, but even so, kakashi still understands sasuke better than any other adult in the hidden leaf.  he’s the first authority figure who sasuke hasn’t been able to trick into obliviousness - sasuke can’t pretend away his problems in front of someone who used to have all those same problems himself!  kakashi is too savvy to be waved away with the whole ‘i’m super advanced for my age i don’t need any help don’t look behind my mask’ charade.  kakashi invented that game.  he knows it’s one you don’t want to win.  he won it himself, when he played it, and winning just meant that everybody took him at his word when he acted like he was fine and nobody ever gave him the kind of help he needed.  he’s not going to let another kid get away with the same self-destructive shenanigans, not when he’s around to call their bluffs and be the kind of support structure he himself could’ve benefited from when he was younger.   

[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hello omg, can I request Sasha with a warrior S/O? Like reader came with Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt on their mission and during Reiner and Bertholdt’s reveal, she reveals herself too? UAUAUA it can be angst or whatever you prefer 🥺❤️

I gave the reader the Warhammer titan btw cause it’s my favorite akdkakfkd

Also, it’s a little long, but that’s just ‘cause I wrote out the whole warrior reveal in word form, and it’s longer than I remember lol

With You

(Sasha Braus x Reader)

AU: Canon, slightly divergent

Warnings: Gore/graphic description of injury, season 3 spoilers, slight season 4 spoilers

Genre: Angst

Summary: Following the battle at Utgard castle, Reiner stops to have a chat with Eren, and reveals that he, Bertholdt, and Sasha’s s/o are all titan shifters, right in front of Sasha.

Words: 3.9K

-------

You had no time to process what had happened. Ymir was a titan, Christa was Historia, and Zeke has finally made his appearance.

You sighed and leaned against the rope tethers of the pulley system, regaining your bearings on the platform as you were pulled up and over the wall. The battle of Utgard castle had been tough—and many secrets were uncovered.

So, Ymir was the titan that ate Marcel all those years ago... You recounted in your head, sighing as you held your face in your palms. And now Zeke is here. We must’ve been too long without any sign of progress. We’re in big trouble. If we get back without Annie and Eren, it’ll be all over for us. Magath is gonna—

“Y/n!” A cheery voice brought you out of your slump, and you looked over your shoulder to see Sasha standing behind you, an arm outstretched as an offering of help.

You smiled at the sight of your girlfriend, and you slowly rose from your spot on the makeshift elevator, taking her hand and pulling yourself up onto the wall. “Thanks, Sasha.”

As soon as you stood up straight, Sasha lunged at you and wrapped her arms around your shoulders, lifting her feet off of the ground as you leaned all of her body weight onto you.

“I’m so glad you’re okay...! I was so worried!” She buried her face in your neck as she spoke, and you wrapped your arms around her lower back, putting your hands on her butt as support so she could wrap her legs around your waist.

You giggled at her, cuddling closer into her embrace. “I’m alright, I’m okay. There’s no need to worry.”

“I know, but I heard that you and your squad got held up at Utgard castle overnight in the middle of a titan horde, and when we finally got there and saw the tower collapsed, I was so scared! I... I—!” She cried into your neck as you moved a hand to rub small circles on her back.

“I know, I know, but we’re okay now. We had a bit of...” You glanced to the left. Ymir lay unconscious and steaming in the stretcher, a distressed Historia leaning over her and brushing strands of brown locks out of her face. “Unexpected help.”

“Mhm...” She mumbled, leaning into you for support. You stayed like this in silence for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after so long of being separated.

“Hey, lovebirds!” A loud shout caught your attention, and both you and Sasha turned to the source; Connie. “Save that stuff for the dorms! We still have stuff to do!”

“Right...” Sasha muttered, climbing off of you and running towards Connie, helping him haul terrified soldiers over the wall.

You stared in admiration for only a brief moment before your attention turned to your comrades, Reiner and Bertholdt. Reiner’s arm was wrapped up in the torn cloth of Historia’s skirt, and Bertholdt was close by, the two of them standing in a solemn, heavy silence.

You approached them quietly, taking a seat next to Reiner. Neither of you said anything. The sudden appearance of the beast titan, or rather, Zeke, had shaken you all. You had been gone for years, and gave no sign of retrieving the Founding Titan. Not only that, but you had lost Marcel and Annie. No matter what, the situation wasn’t going to end smoothly for you three.

To the right, many of the Scouts had gathered around a blonde Garrison soldier. Hannes—his name popped into your mind, as Eren had mentioned him before, while in the 104th. He seemed to be disclosing something to the others, and they looked on with mixed expressions.

“Do you think this has something to do with Zeke?” You questioned. Reiner kept his face buried in his palm, and Bertholdt turned to you with a sigh.

“Most likely.” The tall man answered. “I mean, we saw him. He’s clearly here. He must be doing something with his spinal fluid. Speeding up the process, perhaps.” He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists in anxiety, eyes wide. “We’re in deep shit.”

You didn’t respond to him verbally, offering only a huff in solemn agreement.

The group of soldiers disbanded, though many branched of into separate conversations of worry, wonder, and resentment. As they walked off, Reiner stood up suddenly, eyes still fixated on the ground.

“Eren.” He called out, drawing the attention of the shorter man. “We should talk. You got a moment?”

“Sure, I guess.” He sighed, walking over. You and Bertholdt shared confused and concerned looks. The two of you had long noticed that Reiner had gone a bit off the deep end since arriving at Paradis, so you were wary of what he might say or do next.

“Five years ago, we compromised Wall Maria and launched an attack on humanity.” He spoke, turning his back to Eren, hanging his head in defeat. You looked at Bertholdt, and he mirrored your emotion. Panic.

“I’m the Armored Titan. He’s the Colossal.” He pointed his thumb in your direction when he spoke. “And she’s the Warhammer.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you telling him?” Bertholdt chocked out quietly.

“Reiner!” You whispered sharply, venom dripping from your tone. The three of you had done such a careful job keeping your identities secret from the others, and Reiner just spilled all of it. There was no going back from this.

“We were on a mission.” He continued.

“Stop!” Bertholdt pleaded, but Reiner didn’t waver.

“Our goal was to ensure mankind’s extinction. But now, there’s no need for that. Eren,” He turned to face the shocked and confused boy to his side. “If you want the walls to remain standing, it’s simple. Just come with Bertholdt, Y/n, and me. Do you understand?”

A good look to your left proved that he did not, in fact, understand.

“Understand? What the hell is there to understand?!” He shouted, drawing the attention of a few soldiers. Mikasa stood protectively a short distance away, and Sasha, with her impeccable hearing, turned to face the scene as well. The two of you made eye contact, and your distress must have been evident even at such a distance, because her eyes widened, and she started to make her way over with concern and confusion.

“Listen to me.” To your and Bertholdt’s horror, Reiner kept speaking. “I need you to do exactly as I say. Look, I know this is sudden, but we have to go.”

“Right now?” He exclaimed. “Where would you take me?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet.” Internally, you started to collect yourself. This wasn’t ending quietly. Bloodshed was dreadfully immanent. “Just think of it as our hometown.” Your eyes widened. He’s just gonna ask Eren? You thought, astounded. After all this, he really thinks Eren is just gonna follow us? What is he thinking?!

“Okay? So what’s it gonna be? Not a bad deal, right? The chance to avert a major crisis?”

“I’m not so sure...” He muttered. You were surprised he didn’t have a stronger reaction, especially for someone as fiery as him. Perhaps he was still in shock, or denial. Either way, they were teetering on the edge of battle, even if you and Bertholdt were the only ones to sense it.

“You guys!” Armin shouted, waving to capture the attention of you, Bertholdt, Reiner, and Eren. “Get a move on, we’re heading out!” Despite that, Sasha pushed right past him, closing in to the conversation, standing still now that she was in earshot. Mikasa was to her left, watching Eren with a dangerously protection glare.

Eren closed his eyes, taking in a deep sigh. It felt as if, for a moment, the world stood still. Damn it, he thought, I didn’t want to believe it...

A distant memory flashed through his head. When Annie had been found out, they had discussed the possibility of Reiner, Bertholdt, and Y/n also being shifters, but they didn’t have proof. Was it really so simple, though?

He opened his eyes and placed a firm hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re just tired. That’s it, right? Help me out here Bertholdt, Y/n. Your nerves are shot. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“U-Uh, yeah.” Bertholdt fumbled. “It’s the battle fatigue talking!”

“Yeah!” You reaffirmed, luckily being able to exude more confidence than Bertholdt. “You’re just tired. After everything that just happened, I can’t blame you.” You laughed nervously, praying no one saw through your bluff.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” Between your bluff, and his shock, Eren took the bait. “If you really were the Armored Titan, what’s the endgame here? We wouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place. What’d you expect me to do? Say yes? Let myself be kidnapped just ‘cause you asked politely?” Somehow, you found yourself agreeing with Eren on that last one.

Despite Eren’s nonchalant response, a dead silence overtook the air, and Sasha found it as her cue to step forward.

“Y/n? What’s going on here?” She placed a hand on your shoulder, but as soon as she did, you looked back. She gasped at the sight. You looked petrified.

“Right. Not thinking straight, am I?” He finally gave up his ploy, wide-eyed and sweating bullets. “Barely know what I’m saying here. Must’ve gone off the deep end.”

Eren turned his back to the three of you. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Deafening silence and still air ensued. You did not move. The clouds cleared, and rays of sun shone down on the stone beneath your feet.

“That’s the problem.” Reiner shook. He chuckled, and shadows covered his face. You’d never seen him like this before.

“I’ve been here too long for my own good. Three years of this madness, surrounded by idiots. We were kids. What’d we know about anything?”

You couldn’t help but agree with Reiner on that one. You didn’t want to become a warrior, none of you did. If you knew the atrocities you had to commit in order to have the essence of a warrior, the idea would’ve never crossed your mind.

“Why did there have to be people like this.” He choked, tears pricking his eyes and mouth spread into a wide, ugly frown. “Why? Why did I let myself devolve into such a half-assed piece of shit?”

“It’s too late now.” He lifted his arm out of the cast makeshift cast, and held his arm up, showing the red and bloody bite mark. “Damned if I know what’s right anymore! Who cares? It is what it is. No choice but to face what I’ve done! As a warrior.”

His arm steamed, and shortly after, the skin closed up, blood drying and appearing as if he’d never been injured from the get-go.

“No road left but the one that leads to the end!” He screamed. Eren’s eyes widened as he gasped. He finally understood.

“Reiner! Right now? Here?” Bertholdt yelled back, prepared for anything, despite the beads of sweat that rolled down his face.

“We’re really doing this?!” You echoed, and Sasha looked on with a horrified expression.

“Yes. Right here, right now!” He commanded, marching towards Eren. “We settle this once and for all!”

Mikasa appeared out of nothing in a fraction of second, blades drawn and mind set on murder. She swung her blade at Reiner, who put up his hand defensively as the blade split his hand in half from his fingers all the way to his wrist. She spun around in an instant, and her blade cleanly slashed right across Bertholdt’s neck, who fell to the ground screaming and holding his throat.

He eyes were set on you, and an underhanded swing of her blade slashed a line right across your face. Blood immediately clouded your vision, and you groaned in pain as you were sure you had lost an eye.

She charged at you, determined to finish the job, but her sprint was interrupted by Sasha, who tackled Mikasa at full force, and the sword tumbled out of her grasp as Sasha pinned her down.

“Sasha!” She struggled. “Sasha, move! What are you doing?!” She tried to get up, but Sasha managed to overpower her momentarily, keeping her firmly on the ground.

“MIKASA STOP! PLEASE!” She pleaded at the top of her lungs. Rationally, she knew you were the enemy now, but she’d be damned if she let you die here, after everything the two of you had been through.

“Sasha, you can’t—!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She screamed. “YOU AREN’T GONNA HURT HER!”

Mikasa took quick advantage of Sasha’s emotional state and hurled her off, and she tumbled into a heap a few feet away. With little hesitation, Mikasa reequipped her blades.

But it was too late.

“Bertholdt! Y/n!” Reiner barked, lighting already manifesting around him.

The two of you looked at each other with horrified understanding, and prepared your own transformations.

Sparks of electricity surrounded you, and panic filled adrenaline exploded into flesh. Limbs shot out around you, plus the familiar hardened skin of the Armored, the skinless muscle of the Colossal, and the cloudy white body of your own titan.

Seconds passed, albeit one’s that felt like centuries, and you finally opened your eyes. You stood tall on top of the wall; 15 meters high. To your right, Reiner. And behind him was Bertholdt. Only half formed due to the space, and his lower body ceased to exist. Ribs shot out and dug into the stone, and powerful gusts of steam shot off of his body.

The terrified pawns on the wall stared up at you, mouths agape. But the shock didn’t last long.

The hurricane of steam that came off of Bertholdt started to throw things around, and those who didn’t make quick use of their ODM gear were sent flying. One of those figures, Eren, was quickly swept up by Reiner in the chaos.

It was no use, though. That’s why you weren’t surprised in the slightest when he bit his hand and sparks flew, his transformation queued by a guttural scream of rage.

“Damn you... YOU TRAITORS!”

The Attack Titan formed in Reiner’s hand, fist already drawn back and preparing a strike to Reiner.

In a fraction of a second, you formed a large hammer—your namesake weapon—from hardened titan skin, raising it into the air with a passionate battle cry.

The hammer struck Eren in his flank, and he flew abruptly to the left. You shot Reiner a look, and he looked down in understanding, drawing his arms back in preparation for a charge.

Eren had stood up by the time Reiner had started his charge, and immediately braced for impact—he didn’t have the time to move.

Reiner collided with Eren, and knocked him to the ground effortlessly, his greater size and weight being of good use.

The two wrestled on the ground, and you hesitated to intervene. After all, your weapon was powerful, but imprecise. You couldn’t risk accidentally hitting Reiner. Instead, you turned around, assessing the situation on the wall, where Bertholdt had been unceremoniously shackled.

It seemed no one was brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to approach the colossal in it’s torrid state, and you didn’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful.

But, out of the corner of your eye, a figure swung. Your eyes widened slightly in amusement as ODM gear shot from tree to tree, approaching you at in impressive speed. Hmph. Guess someone is stupid enough after all. You thought.

You were about to swipe them away without a second thought, but you faltered at the sight of auburn brown hair, loosely tied into a familiar ponytail.

You must’ve gotten a little distracted by the sight, because you were suddenly brought back to attention by the figure landing on your shoulder, the hooks of their ODM gear digging into your shoulder, which you assumed were used as leverage mere seconds ago.

You turned your massive head to look at it, and you saw the figure gasp and tremble at the sight. Sometimes, you forgot how terrifying your titan was. But you perked up for a moment, brought out of your violent trance by a familiar face.

“Y/N!” It was Sasha. “Y/n, what is going on here?!”

You opened your mouth to respond, and it came out in a gravely, deep tone because of your titan form. “Sasha...?”

She released the grapples of her ODM to run up and hug your neck—the best she could, that is, with your immense size.

“Y/n! Come on! Why didn’t you tell me! This... this isn’t you... tell me there’s a reason!!!” She screamed.

Turning back to observe Eren and Reiner’s struggle, you sighed internally. It was just like her to get too emotional in a situation like this.

You turned back to Sasha with a sad look in your eyes. Carefully, you brought your hand up to pinch the hood of her Scout jacket, lifting her and placing her back down on top of the wall.

Slowly, you crouched down to her level, meeting her eye to eye despite the pain it caused you to see the heartbroken look in her eyes. Your hand curled around her back to support her, the only kind of pseudo-hug you could give at the moment. Your thumb gently made its way to the top of her head, and you moved it down slowly to caress her head. Tears streamed down her face, the internal conflict being far too much for her to bear.

But a sudden mass to your lower back brought you out of your intimate moment with her. Pain shot up through your body as you felt your back collide with the ground, and your eyes opened in horror. Eren had somehow managed to best Reiner in their scrimmage—and he was after you now.

You started to form the base of your hammer in your hands once again, but a forceful punch to your jaw stopped it’s formation out of the shock and pain.

Another fist made it’s way to your face—and another, and another, and another. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you could hear noises. Roaring, growling, and, the loudest of them all, screaming. Though, in your state, you couldn’t discern if it was even you or not.

Eren delivered his last punch with a frightening roar of passion, and your neck twisted at an unnatural angle as your head snapped off the titan body with a horrid, bone-grinding sound.

Your battered body fell out of the nape of the titan, using what was left of your strength to emerge at the last second. It was all you had in you, though, and the last thing you heard was your own heavy breathing and distant shouting as your vision started to vade.

Eren stood up tall, towering over your unconscious body, raising his fists in the air with a triumphant roar of victory, the cheers of soldiers filling the air.

Filled with adrenaline and ego, he picked up your limp body in his hand, dangling your body over his already opened mouth.

He was going to eat the Warhammer—right here, right now.

That is, until a foreboding cracking noise brought his attention away from you. It took a few seconds for him to locate the source. The Colossal Titan.

It’s bones snapped and ground against one another, it’s massive body slowly shifting like a collapsing skyscraper. It twisted, turned, and groaned until it slowly lost it’s iron grip on the wall—and it was heading straight for Eren.

It’s body collided with Eren, and the force of the impact was comparable to that of an earthquake. Smoke rose from the ground as dirt was upended, trees crackling and snapping as chunks of rock flew up and around from the impact area.

The force of the impact sent you flying through the air. It didn’t take any hesitation, though, for your girlfriend to go flying through the air, catching your bloody body in her arms and wrapping herself around you to keep you safe as she hit the ground and slid against the dirt.

She groaned audibly from the pain, gritting her teeth in a feeble attempt to numb the painful sensations. But, her pain suddenly subsided when she laid eyes on you.

Your lower half had been all but obliterated. Your legs were completely crushed and squeezed out like an old container of toothpaste, and blood gushed from your stomach. She tried in vain to ignore the sight of your snapped bones twisting at odd angles and protruding through your skin.

Panicked, she brought an ear to your chest, desperately searching for that steady rhythm of life beating in your chest.

She had never taken a deeper sigh of relief than she did now, overjoyed at the slow heartbeat you clung onto. It was weak, yes, but you were still here. With her. That’s all that mattered.

Steam slowly rose from your stomach as your body attempted to heal your wounds. Even in a situation like this, your body managed to find the strength to start recovering.

She cradled your body to her chest, sobbing out in both relief and distress as you bled out onto her. Her clothes were already stained red, and her hands were sticky with morbid crimson, but she didn’t care. She held you close, as close as you could possibly be without her physically crushing you, catching her breath and calming herself to the sound of your shallow breaths.

It was a short-lived moment, though, as a dark shadow suddenly covered the ground, and Sasha froze with fear with you in her arms. By the shadow alone, it was impossible to tell if it was Eren or Reiner, and she didn’t want to check. She curled around you, crying quietly in preparation of getting crushed.

But it didn’t happen. A large finger instead placed itself on Sasha’s shoulder, pushing her out of the way to observe your injured state. Her body trembled fearfully as she turned to face it, and was met with the Armored Titan.

She wasn’t sure what to expect next, really. It could’ve crushed her like an ant and ran away with you, or worse, separated her and run off with just you.

She didn’t want to be apart from you. Even if it made her a terrible soldier, even if it made her treasonous, dishonorable, and irredeemable, she would stick with you, no matter whose side you were on. Right or wrong, she was staying with you.

Reiner hesitated for a moment. He couldn’t just bring a Paradis soldier back, it would be a huge problem down the line. But, his eyes glanced to you. He was certain that if he left Sasha there without you, you would never have forgiven him.

So, he cut his losses and gently scooped the two of you up in his hand, holding you and her close to his chest as he started running—god knows where to. She caught a glimpse of a Bertholdt in his other hand, as well as Ymir, still unconscious and strapped to her stretcher.

And Eren. Somehow, Reiner had the severely injured and incapacitated shifter quite literally in the palm of his hand.

Sasha knew that once people slowly started waking up, the fighting would only continue, but she savored this moment. Even if you were bleeding and hurt, your face looked peaceful. As odd as it sounded, she felt content with you in this moment.

As Reiner ran further and further from the wall, Sasha glanced over his shoulder, watching as the faces of her former comrades as they faded into the background.

I wish somebody cared for me the way Sasha cares about Y/n in this fic lmaooo

[itsallyscorner]

Shapes In The Clouds

Request: can I request a Sebastian x reader (age gap) where he proposes?

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader

Warnings: nun

A/n: Reposting because tumblr wants to be a lil bitch and not put my posts under the tag🙄 Hope you like it lovely, I’m so sorry for the long wait!💛

(Source: Pinterest)

You were a simple girl. You didn’t need anything extravagant or too loud just to appreciate something. You found joy in the smallest of things even if it was a bad situation you found the brighter side of things. You didn’t like being the center of attention. Honestly it terrified you if all the attention were on you. The eyes of everyone on you watching your every move made you want to sink into the floor and hide away from it all. You were quiet but you weren’t shy, your personality was the epitome of sunshine, as Sebastian would say.

Weirdly enough you ended up being the girlfriend of an actor. The opposite of everything you avoided. He had a different lifestyle. Movie sets, red carpets, bright lights, and parties were what his life consisted of. While yours was made up of offices, magazines, cups of coffees, and sleepless nights of endless work. Thankfully, Seb was one of the private ones. Yes, he was active on social media but that didn’t mean he shared every second of his life on Instagram.

Soon the messages turned into dates, and the dates turned into overnight stays at each other’s apartments. Now a year and a half later you two are living together in a homey apartment in the hidden streets of Manhattan.

You heard the sheets rustle as the human furnace beside you shifted in the bed. The arm resting on your chest tightened its grip around you, pulling you closer to their body. A content sigh left the body beside you.

“Sebba.” You groggily mumble, sleep still evident in your voice. You interlaced your fingers with his, cuddling his arm.

“Buna dimineata iubirea mea.” He greeted you with his morning voice that you were oh so fond of. You lazily giggle and turn in his grip, snuggling into his chest. A low chuckle emitted from his chest as he breathed in your familiar scent mixed with your shampoo. The scent together made him feel like he was home. You are his home.

“Don’t go jogging today.” You tangle your limbs with his and made sure to hang onto him like a sloth.

“Give me a good reason not to.”

“I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you.” You finally open your eyes and rub the sleep out of them. You were greeted with Sebastian’s crooked smile and his steel blue eyes. His hand reaches to brush some hair away from your face, his hand settles itself on your cheek.

“Hmm, I don’t know.” He feigns a thoughtful look as if he were debating with his options. Jogging or cuddling? Although Sebastian had other plans besides jogging or cuddling.

“But you’re a huge softie when it comes to my cuddles.” You stare up at him with puppy eyes. Sebastian nuzzles his nose against yours before answering, “I am, but I have other plans for today.”

“Like what?” You ask sitting up, “Today’s not an anniversary or something…right?”

“No, it’s not don’t worry.” He assures you. But it will be, Sebastian thought to himself.

You move to sit on his lap. Naturally, Sebastian shifts and rests his hands around your waist, his palms press against your lower back as he gazes up at you.

“Well, what did you have in plan, babe?” You ask threading your fingers into his hair. Sebastian hums in content.

“How about we pick up some food from that cafe you’ve been wanting to try near Central Park and have a picnic?” He suggests with hopeful eyes. He really hoped you would agree to his plan.

“Ooo, I haven’t been on a picnic in a while now. Let’s do it, I’m down.” You instantly perk up at the mention of a picnic. You missed being outside and sitting on the grass eating while admiring the view.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence.

“I guess that means we should get up now, huh?” Sebastian scrunches his nose.

“One more minute.” He mutters pulling you down so your head is resting in the crook of his neck.

“Make it two.”

🕗 Time Skip

You and Sebastian walked hand in hand on the streets of NY. The weather was perfect. There was a nice autumn breeze and it wasn’t too cold nor too hot. Sebastian knew this was your favorite kind of weather. Only because you got to wear knitted sweaters, ankle boots, and one of his jackets that were quite big on you.

The two of you walked towards the park. A bag of pastries in one of your hands and a tray of iced coffees in Seb’s free hand. When you guys finally found a secluded spot to sit at, Sebastian took out a blanket from his backpack. You guys sat across each other on the blanket, the pastries and coffees in between you two.

You open the bag and pull out a pain au chocolat (basically a chocolate croissant) from the variety of pastries. Holding it up to Sebastian’s mouth you ask, “You want first bite?”

He answers by opening his mouth wide and taking a huge bite. He moans as he chewed.

“Holy shit, that’s good.” You decide to take a bite yourself. When the buttery flakes of the croissant mixed with the chocolate filling entered your mouth it was like pure Heaven.

“Oh, wow.” Sebastian took an iced coffee out from the tray and gave it shake. He takes a straw out of the bag and pokes it into the lid. He held the cup up to you and motioned for you to take a sip. You hum in delight as you take the coffee from his hands. The next few minutes consisted of the two of you eating breakfast, feeding each other food, or wiping crumbs off the other’s face.

The pastries were now long gone. The two of you laid back on the blanket. Your head was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. You listened to his steady heartbeat as you two pointed out shapes in the clouds. Though his heartbeat began to quicken as you pointed at a specific cloud.

“Hey, that one looks like a ring!” You laugh as you point at the cloud. Sebastian freezes at the mention of a ring. His eyes widen for a millisecond before he regains himself.

“Where do you see that?” You gently place your hand on his chin to navigate his attention towards the cloud.

“Look, there’s the band and then there’s the diamond!” You trace out the shapes with your finger. Sebastian feels his breath get deeper and his hands getting clammy.

This was a sign from the universe that you should do this NOW, he thought to himself.

He pats his jean pocket to see if the box that held forever was still there. He let out a sigh of relief and adjusted himself so he was sitting up. While doing so he sat you up so you were sitting across from him.

“Funny you mention a ring.” He chuckles as he lovingly gazed into your eyes. A smile was on your face but the questionable look on you had was obvious. Sebastian takes your hand in his and runs his thumb across the top of it. He brings your hand up to his soft lips, his scruff tickling your fingers as he presses a kiss on it.

“I love you.” He began eyes admiring the different aspects of your face. “I love you so damn much.”

You laugh as you pat his cheek, “I love you too, baby. What’s going on?”

Sebastian takes both your hands into his.

“You are, the greatest thing that has happened to me. Sure, I’ve been in big movies and have a successful career. But that can all go away one day. One thing that I know for sure is that you won’t. For the last two years you’ve been the only constant in my life. You’ve stuck with me through thick and thin. You’ve been so patient and understanding with me and my horrendous schedules. Even when people hated on us for our differences, you didn’t give up on us. You’re the most amazing, beautiful, and talented woman I’ve ever met. I admire you and everything about you. Every little thing you do, that little nose scrunch, the way you hang onto me like a koala, everything.” Sebastian pauses as a nervous chuckle emits from his chest. You look at him in awe, tears forming in your eyes.

“You deserve the absolute world. I don’t know how I got lucky to deserve someone like you. I know this is a really shitty way of doing it but I just couldn’t help myself. I can’t hold it in any longer. I want all of you, for the rest of my life, if you’ll have me.” Tears are full on streaming down your face as Seb briefly lets go of your hands to get the box out of his pocket. He wipes the tears from his eyes to see you clearly.

“Wait, stand up. I have to at least do this part properly.” He helps you up to your feet as he kneels before you on one knee. He opens the infamous blue box from Tiffany’s. A store you’ve been fond of after watching Audrey Hepburn’s Breakfast At Tiffany’s. The box reveals a ring with a fairly large diamond that shone in the sunlight.

You wipe the tears from your face as you look down at him. Sebastian’s eyes shone in the light as they held your gaze. With one hand in his, he asked you, “(y/n) (m/n) (l/n), will you marry me?”

You immediately nod your head as you move to cradle his face in your hands.

“Yeah. Yes! Oh my god, yes, I’ll marry you!” You lean down as you bring his face closer to yours. Your lips meet in the middle. Time stopping when they touched, as he pulled you down for a passionate kiss, ignoring the taste of the salty tears that ran down your faces. You pull away for air, Sebastian quickly pecks your lips before you’re out of arms length.

He takes your left hand and slides the ring onto your ring finger. The ring fits you perfectly.

“I can’t believe you’re my fiancé oh my god!” You say in disbelief as you wrap your arms around Sebastian.

“Me either. I finally did it.” Sebastian says, mostly to himself. He’s been holding onto that ring for two months now, it’s about time he popped the question.

You lovingly stroke his cheek as your other arm is draped around his shoulder.

“Te iubesc mult.” You whisper against his lips, a smile making its way on your face. Sebastian’s smile grows even more when he hears you speak in his native language.

“Si eu te iubesc.” He replies as he smiles fondly at you.

“Also, are you crazy, Tiffany’s? Seb, that’s so expensive, I would’ve been fine with something else!” You scold him lightly smacking his chest. Sebastian chuckles as his arms squeeze you into his chest.

“I don’t care. You deserve the best.”

“As long as I’m with you, that’s all that matters.”

translations

Buna dimineata iubirea mea - Good morning my love

Te iubesc mult - I love you a lot

Si eu te iubesc - I love you too

[rametarin]

And before you fucks argue with me about the intention of the mob about Kyle that night

If it was the proud boys screaming, “I’m going to kill you, nigga! I’m going to kill you!” You would accept nothing less than the idea that the Proud Boys, or at least the individuals on that night, were just a bunch of white supremacist fucks that were being honest about their intentions to kill the person they were circling around.

It’s on fucking video and audio that they were yelling, “we’re going to kill you.” From multiple people, multiple sources. To be hit by a skateboard counts as assault with a deadly weapon, especially if someone is fleeing from you and YOU ARE ACTIVELY PURSUING THEM, AS A GROUP, AND ATTACKING.

Rosenbaum grabbed hold of Kyle’s rifle and tried to wrestle it away from him. This is objective, court supported fact of the case. He got part of his finger blown off and soot from the gunfire on his hand. He was legally trying to steal Kyle’s weapon. This resulted in a lethal bit of self defense.

This angered the mob, whom decided that this hispanic Nazi killed their comrade, so they gave chase. And they fully intended on killing him. Multiple people physically attacking him and someone else already having a gun trained on him is evidence enough.

Rosenbaum was effectively doing suicidal high-risk aggressive instigating rodeoclowning, lunging at people and threatening them, getting in their faces, touching, pushing, punching, leaping on cars and yelling threats. And swatting him was going to get the mob down on you. Because in the heat of that shit, he-said she-said, it’s mob tactics. And a coordinated mob has an advantage.

They were either going to intimidate him into compliance to let them continue burning things and antagonizing cops, beat him half to death and then make sure to arrange themselves so no one could identify the attackers if they could (and they have formation tactics for just this sort of guerilla violence shit)

You see how they arrange here? They put the face protestors up front; the elderly, the females, the soft targets that look good screaming out in pain against whatever brutes are attacking them. So no retaliation can come from melee range without the photo-ops later making the antagonized look like heartless brutes.

And then they get the black blocc fucks to do shit like beat people over the head with bike locks, in a kind of jack-in-the-box, before sneaking away.

4chan found this motherfucker and he turned out to be a PROFESSOR OF ETHICS AT BERKLEY. YES. THE FUCKING IRONY. A GOD DAMNED TENURED PROFESSOR AT A COLLEGE. ON ETHICS. Peek-a-booing out from behind women and elderly people walls to beat anybody they deem to be fair game over the head with improvised weapons.

Everything went wrong when they fucked with Kyle on every conceivable metric. And they’re trying so hard to find some corkboard connection to white supremacists groups or sentiments or motivations, and getting only reaches, every single time.

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

Bogotá Kiss

Prologue: There Was a Boy

Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants. 

You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme. 

**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit. 

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending

[MASTERLIST]

"It's not what it looks like."

People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music. 

Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.  

He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called. 

He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.

"Murphy."

"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.

"Javi?"

"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."

"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."

"Thanks, 'appreciate it."

"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment." 

They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy. 

"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."

"Thanks, Murph."

Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered. 

--

The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine. 

"Go ahead. Ask."

Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"

"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache. 

"Shit. I'm sorry--"

"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."

"You file for divorce?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it." 

"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window. 

"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?” 

With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light. 

He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have. 

Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry. 

The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read: 

“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”

At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass. 

He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.

--

The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.

He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch. 

“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!” 

“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”

“Fuck you.”

Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”

“Go away.”

Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.

“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”

“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.

“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”

The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.

--

PERM TAG LIST:

@rae-gar-targaryen​ @zeldasayer @blondeeee-e @winters-buck @gooddaykate @jigglemiwa @seawhisperer @halefirewarrior @ripleyafterdark @phoenixhalliwell @thebakerstboyskeeper @honestlystop @lackofhonor @readsalot73 @cryptkeepersoul @skdubbs @cahooter @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @googiebeankat @dinohaze @saltywintersoldat @huliabitch @silver-lined-solitude @tainted-gay-ghost @roxypeanut @@hayley-the-comet @domino-oh-damn @manda-but-not-lorian @maybege @corvueros @thea-cartier @pettyprocrastination @qveenbvtch @hopplessdreamer  @pocket-of-anxiety @marie-is-in-the-dark @agentpike @pascalplease @cosmicbug379         @your-pixels-are-showing @gamingaquarius @blushingwueen @crimsonandwhiteprincess @bluemoon-glen @river-soul @robbinholland @nerdypinupcrystal @fleetwoodmactshirt @jaime1110 @fioccodineveautunnale @fantasticcopeaglepasta @kid-from-new-zealand @theofficialwatchtower @roguereds @c4llm3jj @apples-of-february

[kateanthnys]

Dumb Dramione arguments and rebuttals because it’s about time we talked about it.

This is taken from @/hermione.s_butterbeer on Instagram and @hermiones-butterbeer over here on tumblr, who constructed the basis for this, I added my own thoughts with theirs. I haven’t learned how to put things under a cut yet so if you’re not interested in this and have to scroll past it I’m sorry :/

Hermione would forgive Draco

Hermione is not a forgiving person. She holds the toughest grudges. She will attack you with birds and stop talking to you for months for getting a girlfriend, she will keep you in a jar for writing incriminating shit about her, she will scar the hell out of you for betraying her. Let’s say she grew out of this in her adult years, it’s not a stretch right, she seems to regard malfoy with contempt in the epilogue? Barely a glance, but then again she never really gave him the time of day as a teenager either so who knows? Even then, as an adult, Draco doesn’t need her forgiveness. Hell he probably doesn’t even want it. Couldn’t care less about her. Nor does he even deserve it from her or any of the golden trio. He surely wouldn’t get it from me but I digress. He bullied her for years and was very openly and vehemently against people of her kind. And again, even if she did somehow forgive him, they would definitely not fall in love.

Hermione would change Draco

It’s definitely not her job to “change” Draco, he is a grown man, not a baby in diapers. Nor is it her job to fix a man that bullied and harassed her for years simply for having muggle blood. Anyway, didn’t Astoria already have that covered? She was a pure blood who changed her views about muggleborns. It was probably much easier for Draco to connect with her, someone who understands him on a level Hermione never would be able to, than the ones he hurt most.

If they were together they would break stereotypes

This one is the biggest laugh of them all. Not only are there multiple couples throughout the Harry Potter universe that breaks the stereotypes and normalcy of the wizarding world, these couples didn’t have to suffer each other’s company like Draco and Hermione would. Because to break them they’d have to have love, which was nil in their case. What’s the point If they don’t even like each other. Draco probably could’ve broken some stereotypes himself by not being a blood purist but once again I digress.

Ron didn’t deserve Hermione followed up by a Draco would’ve appreciated her yk the usual shit that don’t make sense

Love isn’t about who deserves who. Who is more deserving than who. How does one even come to the conclusion about who is more deserving than someone else? Money? Power? Blood status? Who cares about those things, Hermione sure doesn’t. Love is about love, and most important of all, choices. She fell in love, made a choice, acted on it and by god she never regretted it or looked back. And you won’t find any textual evidence saying otherwise (fck u Joanne). And if she did I doubt Draco would even factor into one of her choices.

Draco never made her cry, Ron did

Yes, Ron did. Multiple times. Taking away the fact that Hermione is an emotional person, is it really the end of the world if you once in a while make the person you love cry? Ron was her friend, a friend she had feelings for, she cared about him and his opinions, of course she’s gonna cry when shit hits the fan. Draco is another person on the street walking past her, she doesn’t dignify anything he does or says about her with a response. Now talk shit about Hagrid and get smacked tho. Anyway, my family has made me cry more than any random person or people at school have. Does that make them the worst possible people on the planet? Does that mean these random people love me more than my family? No, it does not.

Ron was dumb, Draco was her intellectual equal

This is one of the ones that’s probably fanmade. News flash fanon Draco isn’t canon. There’s no textual evidence to support that he was close in class with her or matches her wit. When Lucius made that comment in CoS, it didn’t mean Draco was RIGHT under Hermione. You can assume everyone was beneath her in marks, doesn’t make him second best. Oh but the vanishing cabinet, the one he had help with. But the mead and the necklace, once again not his ideas. But Legilimency. Yea he learned to blocked his mind. But Hermione didn’t? And we still know she’s the smartest in her year, certainly smarter than Draco? So really does it matter? Guess not. And on Ron’s intelligence. Books and academics aren’t the only forms of smarts either. If anything books will only take you so far, especially in the wizarding world. Back to Draco, who started failing potions as soon as Snape was gone. Favoritism? Not a stretch at all.

Hermione was worried about him and he warned her about the death eaters

Yea, but no? If you read the text with context you’d know she was worried about Hagrid’s job in 3rd year, fourth year, she was right, a teacher doing that to a student was dumb and he could’ve been harmed, and they could’ve lost another DADA teacher before the school year was even over, this is Hermione being logical, Not being caring. And when Ron made the “amazing bouncing ferret” comment, she laughed. Pretty broken up about it isn’t she?Caring is her reaction that same year to Neville and the cruciatus curse. 6th year, do I even have to explain this one? She was NOT DEFENDING HIM. She was being skeptical and reasonable, there’s a difference. She and Ron had every right to be iffy on the death eater thing, they were already proven wrong in 2nd year when they jumped to conclusions about Malfoy, they didn’t want a repeat of that. And the warning thing, my god, if you think that’s a warning, you need to work on how to identify a warning, it might help you later in life.

Jkr said she wanted to make them canon and date in third year and that Draco bullying her was hiding his crush

Source? And don’t say tumblr. Anyway atp what the author says doesn’t matter to most fans so your fighting a losing argument if you use this.

My last thoughts on this is that you will see that most of these points are about Draco. Well that’s because Dramione seems to be all about Draco. What Draco wants, what Draco needs, Draco’s forgiveness, Draco’s redemption. A relationship is a two-way street of equals, give and take, not Hermione giving and Draco taking. What exactly does Hermione get out of a relationship with Draco? Oh, an Intellectual equal, good to know she’ll have him to recite the periodic table to each other at bed time after she’s worked herself to death at work because thats what she wants and needs. Well, at least she’ll have her books to keep her warm. Every girl’s dream amiright. *sarcasm*

The End.

[marjansmarwani]

i see you’re doing prompts and i love me some angst so #1 (with a dash of #10) for tarlos ?? if you feel in any way inspired by them 👀💕

Of course Jill - anything for you (on your birthday!) Here it is, I hope you enjoy!

If I die before I wake 

tarlos || 5k || ao3

Prompt: “stay alive, please.” + “it hurts.”

---

Carlos responds to an accident scene that threatens to take everything away from him. 

-------

“So, what do you think?” 

Carlos looked at his partner, eyebrow raised, “What do I think about going on a double date?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Me and TK, with you and…” 

“Alanna,” Mya provided.  

“Right, Alanna. Who you have been on...2 dates with?” 

“Three, Reyes. Three dates.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

Mya shot him a glare, “What?” 

“I think you’re up to something, Esquilin.”  

“What could I possibly be up to?” 

“I don’t know, but I have known you long enough to know that you are usually up to something.” 

“You,” Mya said with an accusatory finger pointed at her partner, “are too suspicious, Reyes.” 

“Mya,” Carlos said firmly, turning to face her, “what possible reason could you have for wanting to take someone you have been on 3 dates with for a double date with a couple that has been together over a year and knows you so well? There’s an ulterior motive here somewhere and I’m just wondering what it is.” 

There is silence in their squad car for several moments as Mya seems to consider how best to answer. But the same moment she opened her mouth, their radio chirped to life. Mya seemed to deflate in relief and Carlos studied her for a moment before reaching for the radio, “This is Officer Reyes.” 

“Car 142 respond to a vehicular accident, intersection of S 1st and Cumberland. Be advised that witnesses say one of the involved drivers is likely under the influence.” 

Carlos shared a grim look with Mya, who flipped on the lightbar and headed in the direction of the accident scene, “10-4 dispatch, car 142 en route.” He replaced the radio and turned to Mya, “we’re finishing this discussion later.” 

“Whatever you say, partner.” 

“I mean it, Mya.” 

“So an accident, think you’ll get to see your better half?” 

“You can try and change the subject all you want but I’m not going to forget.” 

She raised an eyebrow at him briefly before turning her gaze back to the road and he rolled his eyes, “No, he’s not working tonight. He actually should be at my place by now, he was going to try to make dinner.” 

“Did you check to make sure the fire extinguisher was full?” 

“And added a second one.” 

She laughed, but any humor faded at the sight of the accident scene as they turned the corner. 

Carlos felt dread building in his gut as Mya lost any hint of the playful manner of just a second ago, “Shit,” she said instead, voice low as she slowed their car to a stop at the edge of the scene. 

There was a car pinned to the telephone pole on the corner of the intersection. The front end looked relatively fine but the back was a mess. It looked like the other vehicle had come through the intersection at high speed, striking the back of the other car and pinning it to the pole. Carlos grimaced as he climbed out of the cruiser and got a better look. Hopefully no one had been in the backseat; they would have to be lucky to have survived that. 

And the driver of the other car was standing outside his car looking perfectly fine if a bit intoxicated, of course. 

He turned to Mya as she met him outside their car, “Do you want the drunk or the victim?” 

“You took the drunk last time so I guess it’s my turn.” 

“Let me know if you need me.” 

“Please,” she scoffed, “I can handle this dude.” 

He shook his head fondly as she rolled her eyes and they jogged off in their separate directions. He reached the driver’s window and leaned in, giving the man a quick once over. 

“Sir,” he asked, “are you hurt anywhere?” 

The driver shook his head forcefully, “I’m fine, just some cuts and bruises. My passenger though, I’m an uber driver…” 

Carlos felt the dread building as his fears were confirmed.

“Okay sir sit tight, I’m going to go around and see if I can get a better look. The fire department should be here soon and they’ll get you out real quick.” 

The driver nodded and Carlos gave him a quick, small smile before he headed to the rear window, carefully brushing glass shards out of the way so he could lean in. He was about to ask the same questions, but the sight before him stole the words and his breath from him. 

There was someone in the backseat but it wasn’t just anyone. It was a very familiar someone in a familiar yellow hoodie. 

“TK?” he asked, voice breaking. He got no response. He tugged on the door desperately but couldn’t get it to budge.  

He swallowed before trying again, “Ty? Can you hear me?” 

There were a million sounds surrounding him and not one of them mattered. The only one that did matter, the only voice he needed to hear, stayed silent. He couldn’t even get close enough to check for a pulse even as his heart clenched at the very thought of needing to. He knew he had been staring for too long, he needed to keep moving. He needed to do something, anything. He needed to help TK. 

He couldn’t lose him — not now, not ever. 

With effort, he pulled his gaze away and glanced around. Mya had cuffed the other driver and was loading him into the back of the cruiser. He called out to her, hoping she didn’t notice the change in his voice. Her eyes found him and even from a distance the despair in his expression must have been clear because her expression shifted and she hurried over. 

“Carlos, what—” 

But he stepped aside so she could see into the car, clutching the roof of the car for support. She took a look inside and he could pinpoint the moment she identified the trapped figure. She turned to him; expression grim and voice soft, “Carlos…” 

“We need to get to him,” he said again, hoping his voice was steadier than it sounded to his own ears, “I couldn’t get the door open.” 

“Okay,” Mya said calmly, “we’ll try it together. I’ll use the handle, you grab the doorframe. On 3, we pull.” 

Carlos nodded and followed her instructions, putting everything he had into it. Finally, after a few tries, the door gave and they were able to wrench it open. Carlos was in the car in a flash, disregarding the shattered glass crunching beneath him as he moved towards TK, reaching for his neck, feeling for a pulse. 

Please don’t let him be dead, please. 

The thought was repeated like a mantra in his head, over and over again like a desperate prayer. 

The moments it took to find the right spot, for him to feel the tell-tale thrum of life in the familiar neck before him seemed to last forever but eventually — finally — he felt it. A pulse; strong and steady. 

He released the breath he had been holding and turned to Mya, “he’s alive, pulse is steady.” 

The relief evident on his partner’s face was nearly as palpable as his own, “Okay. See if you can wake him up and maybe give him a once over, I’ll go handle the rest of the scene and notify whatever crew shows up. Just stay with him.” 

“Are you…” 

“Carlos,” she interrupted him, voice firm and leaving no room for argument, “stay with him. He needs you and I can handle the rest on my own.” 

He gave her a grateful smile that she returned before squeezing his arm and disappearing back into the chaos of the scene. 

Carlos turned back to the crumpled figure beside him. He reached out a tender hand, carefully running it through TK’s hair, looking for any sign of a head injury. His hand found something wet on the side of his head closest to the door and he pulled it away to find blood. He moved closer, careful not to jostle TK any more than necessary, and located the source; a long but relatively shallow laceration on the side of his head. 

“How do you keep getting yourself into these situations, babe?” Carlos asked quietly, more to himself than anything else. 

“Is he going to be okay?” 

Carlos nearly jumped — he had quite forgotten about the driver in the face of what he had found in the backseat. He looked back over at the driver who had managed to twist enough to get a better look at TK’s predicament. Carlos shrugged but pulled his professionalism back over his countenance, “it’s hard to say with him trapped right now. The fact that he’s not conscious isn’t a good sign, but the way he’s trapped it’s too hard to see what might be wrong. I’m just hoping AFD gets here soon.” 

The driver nodded before studying Carlos, “You know him, don’t you?” 

Carlos gave him a startled look and the driver simply rolled his eyes, “please, I’ve been stuck in this car. I can hear you back there.” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“Are you his boyfriend?” 

Carlos looked up sharply, never sure how to respond to that. The driver raised his hands in placation, “No judgment, it’s just if you are, he was talking about you right before we crashed.”  

Carlos deflated, turning back to TK, “he was?” 

“Yeah, said he wanted to surprise you by making a dinner that was actually edible.” 

Carlos laughed at that, despite everything, “he’s a man of many talents but unfortunately, I don’t think cooking will ever be one of them.” 

“Seems like he likes you a whole lot too,” the driver noted, watching as Carlos ran a hand through TK’s hair. 

“That’s good,” Carlos said softly, “because I like him a whole lot too.” 

Any further conversation was interrupted by TK stirring. Carlos waited with bated breath, watching him anxiously as he slowly blinked open his eyes. “TK?” he asked softly.

“Carlos?” The word was slurred and quiet, but it was in TK’s voice and Carlos was certain he had never heard anything more beautiful. 

“Yeah Ty, I’m here. Can you tell me what hurts?” 

TK tried to push himself up but abruptly fell back against the window with a hiss of pain, “Everything?” 

Carlos smiles sympathetically, “I believe you, but anything that hurts more than the rest?” 

TK considered for a bit before answering, “my head, and my ribs.” He prodded a bit at his chest before wincing, “definitely a few either broken or fractured on the right side.” 

Carlos watched as TK placed a hand on his chest as he took a breath, wincing with pain and then letting out a breathy curse. He met Carlos’s anxious expression and explained, “might be flail chest too.” 

“Flail chest?” 

“When part of the rib cage — usually 3 or more ribs — breaks and becomes detached from the rest of the chest wall.”

Carlos’s eyes widened, “That sounds bad.” 

“It’s not ideal,” TK agreed, “but as long as I am careful not to jostle it too much I should be fine until we can get to a hospital, as long as that’s soon. Other than that I’m just kind of one giant bruise.” 

“Well, Mya’s in charge so I am sure help will get here soon if she has anything to say about it.” 

TK gave him a weak, strained smile before glancing around, “is everyone else okay?” 

He looked towards the driver’s seat where the man in question smiled and gave a small wave, “I’m good, just trapped. Mostly worried about you, even more so since you said all that stuff. You a doctor? Med student?”

TK shook his head, “Firefighter.” 

“Guess you’re pretty familiar with car accidents then, huh?” 

“Yeah, but usually from the other side. I kind of prefer it that way.” 

“Can’t say I blame you.” 

TK smiled at him before turning back to Carlos, “what about the other driver?” 

“He’s feeling no pain and has been escorted to the back of our squad car by Officer Esquilin.” 

“Great,” TK deadpanned, “just my luck.” 

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed with a sigh, “it kind of is, isn’t it?” 

TK smiled at him and then closed his eyes as grimaced in pain, exhaling carefully. Carlos reached out a hand but let it fall, not sure where to touch the other man that would provide comfort and not more pain. Eventually, he opened his eyes and met Carlos’s gaze. 

“It hurts,” he admitted, voice low and weak and Carlos’s heart ached to hear it. He reached out again, gently grasping the hand resting at his side and giving it a comforting squeeze, “I’m sure it does, but we’re going to get you out of here. I can hear the fire engine now.” 

And not a moment too soon, he thought to himself as the familiar sound of a fire engine approaching cut through the evening. 

Outside the car he could hear the flurry of activity as whichever crew had been called arrived and went about the process of gathering gear and getting set up. Carlos stayed by TK’s side the entire time, clasping his hand in his own, “just focus on me,” he told him, “help is on the way.” 

He was so focused on TK he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps until they were directly behind him. 

“Reyes?” 

The voice is familiar but not one Carlos had been expecting to hear. He turned sharply to see Judd Ryder leaning into the backseat. 

“Judd?” 

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to get out so we can help them. We’ve got it from here.” 

“Is the rest of the 126 team here?” he hoped desperately that they were not. As much as their presence would be a comfort and he knows they would move heaven and earth to help TK, it would be far kinder for them to never have to deal with this. 

“No, I’m covering for a buddy at the 124. His wife just had a baby so a bunch of us took his shifts for the next few weeks. Still gonna need you to move, kid.” 

Carlos swallowed, not sure how to break the news, but he was saved the trouble by TK tuning back into the conversation, “Judd? What’re you doing here?” 

Though his voice was weak, it was undeniably TK and Judd froze. He looked at Carlos who shook his head. What was there to say? There was no explanation for this. Judd grimaced and turned his attention back to TK. 

“Shit kid, you really got yourself into it this time, didn’t you? Just hold tight brother, we’re gonna get you out of there.” 

“Kay,” it was weak, far weaker than it had been a minute ago, and it filled Carlos’s heart with dread.  

Judd took a deep, wavering breath before meeting Carlos’s eyes one more time and pulling himself back out of the car, heading back to the captain to report. 

“Hang tight Ty,” Carlos told him softly, “this is almost over, I promise.” 

“I’m fine Carlos, I’m not worried.” 

“You’re a liar, but thanks for trying.” 

TK’s answering smile, strained as it was, lifted the slightest amount of pressure from his heart. Two members of the 124 came over to free the driver, who looked back at them before climbing out, “hang in there kid would ya? I’d hate to have ‘dead passenger’ on my record.”

“If I survive this I’ll give you a 5-star review.”

The driver laughed appreciatively before nodding to Carlos and following the firemen away from the scene. Now that there was no other civilian involved, all the focus turned to TK and doing whatever they could to get him out. 

Judd appeared at the far edge of the window by TK, “still hanging in there kid?” 

But TK didn’t respond, he was too focused on the flurry of activity outside the wrecked car, “wouldn’t it make more sense to approach from the other side so there would be more clearance between the car and the pole?” 

“Hey, no backseat rescuing,” Judd chided, “you just relax and let us handle it. Besides, you’re concussed, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

But even as he spoke he was studying the scene and he stepped away to speak with the young kid who was setting up the equipment. As Carlos watched the kid nodded and gathered his things before moving to the other end of the car. He glanced back at TK, who was grinning, “I was right, wasn’t I?” 

Carlos chuckled fondly and shook his head, running his hand through TK’s hair again, “Judd’s right, you just need to focus on keeping still and letting us know if something doesn’t feel right when we get you moving. He’s got the rest of it under control, he’ll make sure things are done to the 126’s standards.” 

No more than a few moments later Judd popped back up at the window, “They’re ready to get started and they want you out, Reyes.” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, looking back down at TK, who was still clutching his hand like a lifeline. 

“That’s what I told them,” Judd agreed, “so just do your best to stay out of the way. Last thing we need is two victims here.” 

Carlos nodded and Judd turned to wave to one of the other firemen, who started up the jaws. It was a painstaking process, the car bent and twisted as it was, but eventually, they found the right spot and the door began to give. Carlos turned to smile at TK — they were one step closer to having him free — when he noticed that his face had gone pale.  

“Judd!” he called out to the firefighter before reaching out to examine TK, to see if he could find the problem, “something’s wrong!”

He could hear shouting before the noise of the jaws stopped and Judd peered back into the window, expression tight. Carlos was still studying TK. 

“Ty,” he asked, “can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

TK shook his head but gestured at his chest before trying to take a gulp of air but only ending up with a grimace of pain for his efforts. Carlos realized what he was trying to say in an instant: he was having trouble breathing. 

Judd cursed and leaned back out, calling for the paramedics. His eyes met Carlos’s even as he moved, “I think his lung is punctured, we’re going to need to do this quick and dirty now so we can get him out and get him intubated if need be.” He shifted his gaze down to TK, “this is not going to be pleasant brother, but we’re going to get you the help you need ASAP, alright?” 

TK nodded at him and squeezed Carlos’s hand harder. Carlos swallowed and squeezed back, desperate to offer whatever comfort he could. 

The next minute passed in a blur. Once they had found a gap they used it to wrench the door open as far as it would go before the paramedics approached to get him prepped and out, quickly but carefully. Carlos climbed out after them, able to step over the seat and console that had pinned TK in before, and joined them, hovering right at the edge; unwilling to get in the way, but unable to stray too far. Not when TK was hurt, not when it was like this. 

As he hovered, he heard the paramedic captain curse. “It’s a punctured lung,” he confirmed as he pulled the stethoscope away and relayed instructions to his team, “must have happened when the door shifted, causing the ribs to move and hit the lung. Breath sounds are diminishing, we need to get him out of here fast.” 

Everything after that was white noise to Carlos as he found an open space on the ground near TK’s head and kneeled, careful to keep out of the way. He saw one of the paramedics turn to him in the corner of his eye, likely intending to tell him to get lost, but Judd appeared at his side and shook his head. 

Satisfied he wasn’t about to be forcibly removed with Judd standing sentry behind him, Carlos leaned down, moving closer to TK. 

“Hang in there Ty, please. They’re going to get you help, you just need to hang on a little longer, I promise.”

TK’s eyes met his and though they were clouded in pain, there wasn’t any fear in them. As they held each other’s gaze TK slid his hand across the ground, closer to Carlos who grasped it with his own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing it tightly. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he repeated but now it was less of a promise and more of a prayer. 

TK smiled at him, soft and reassuring, but his eyes began to drift shut. 

“No you don’t, stay with me Ty!” Carlos said desperately, the fear that he had been just barely keeping at bay rushing up to engulf him without a second thought. TK’s eyes opened again but Carlos could tell they wouldn’t stay open for long. He leaned closer, lips practically at TK’s ear, “Stay alive,” he begged, “please. I can’t lose you.” 

“Breaths are fading,” the paramedic captain announced, “we need to move him now.” 

Carlos watched with horror as TK’s eyes slid shut once more and didn’t reopen, no matter how much he pleaded. He watched as the paramedic team scooped him onto a gurney and whisked him to the ambulance, two of them working desperately on CPR as the other rushed around to the driver’s seat. 

The ambulance pulled away and Carlos felt as if his very soul had gone with it. He was still here at the accident scene but couldn’t seem to ground himself. He glanced around, taking in all the bits and pieces of the commotion, but most of it just seemed like noise. 

He saw Judd speaking to the 124 Captain before stepping to the side and pulling out his phone with a grim expression and somehow Carlos knew just who he was calling. He looked away to see Mya heading towards him, expression cautious. 

“Carlos?” she asked, but he knew there was so much more hidden in the two syllables of his name. How are you and how is he and what happened all went unsaid between the two partners. 

He didn’t have an answer to any of them, so he just shook his head. She nodded before reaching out her hand to place it gently on his arm, where she gave him a comforting squeeze. 

“How about we drop Mr. Inebriated off to be processed and then I’ll get you to the hospital. I’ll call Sarge on the way, let her know.” 

Carlos nodded. He knew Mya was worried for him, he knew he should find some way to reassure her, but he had nothing. He felt like a shell; a husk completely cleaned out by the panic and fear and dread that had weighed so heavily on him since he first saw TK in the car. He was drained and the only thing keeping him moving forward was the desperate hope and need for TK to be okay. 

If TK was okay, then everything else would be fine. 

------------- 

Carlos looked up from his phone when a figure plopped into the chair across from him, “hi stranger.” 

“It’s only been a week,” Carlos objected with a roll of his eyes. 

“Yeah and I always get stuck with the weirdos when you’re out. Thank god it’s not often.” There was companionable silence between the two partners as Mya studied him before speaking, “how are you doing?” 

“Me? I’m fine.” 

“Why do I not believe that?” 

Carlos sighed, “It’s been a lot,” he admitted, “and a very long week. But I’m okay, really.” 

“I’ve been worried about you,” she admitted, “we all have been.” 

Carlos opened his mouth to respond, but the arrival of another person interrupted the conversation. 

“Sorry about that,” TK said as he settled back into the seat at Carlos’s side, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “my dad just wanted to check-in. He’s still not convinced I should be allowed to stand up, let alone leave the house.”

“I can’t say I blame him. You really had me worried there for a little bit.”

“Aw Mya, you do care.” 

“That is a vicious rumor that I will deny at all costs.”

He laughed and she grinned at him before softening, “how are you feeling?” 

“I’m good, really. A little sore and I won’t be running any marathons anytime soon, but fine. Like I keep telling this one,” he says, shooting a pointed look at Carlos, “and my dad.”

Mya shrugs, “I believe you, but I can’t say I blame them. It was pretty close there for a while. Only you could be on the verge of death and back on your feet a week later Strand, I swear.” 

“It’s all the practice,” Carlos said dryly, causing Mya to laugh and TK to roll his eyes. 

“Judd is talking about bubble wrap,” he tells Mya. 

“And we looked into it. It would be pricey, but worth it,” Carlos declared. 

“So Mya,” TK said, turning pointedly away from Carlos, who smirked, “who is this girl you are so insistent we meet?” 

Carlos shook his head fondly at the change of subject but didn’t push, instead joining TK in looking at Mya intently. 

Mya rolled her eyes at the pair of them before taking a sip of her coffee, “Her name is Alanna, and I just wanted to see how you guys got on with her.” 

Now Carlos raised an eyebrow and gave her a calculating look, “that sounds like some commitment territory Esquilin, you must really like her.” 

“I do,” Mya admitted, “I know we’ve only been on 4 dates so far, but we talk all the time and I just really enjoy being with her in a way I haven’t enjoyed being with anyone else. Plus, you know, other stuff.” 

TK and Carlos shared a knowing look and a smile as Mya barreled on, “It just seems really fast so I guess I wanted a second opinion? And to see how she fits in with my friends.” 

“We’re your friends?” TK asked with a grin.

“Unfortunately the closet ones I have.” 

Now that the topic of Alanna had been broached, not even their usual banter seemed to bring out the playful side of Mya they were accustomed to. She kept biting her lip and tapping her fingers against her mug as she shot repeated glances at the door. 

“What are you worried about?” TK asked her eventually.

“I’m not worried,” she responded quickly, to which TK only raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re practically a poster child for anxiety at the moment trust me; it takes one to know one. What’s up?” 

Mya was quiet for a few moments before she explained, “I like her a lot, but I can’t help but think that maybe we are rushing into things, that maybe we are moving too fast.” 

“There’s no one ‘right way’ to start a relationship,” Carlos reminded her gently. “I mean, look at us — you know what a mess we were getting started. We didn’t do anything the way we ‘should have’ but I think we’re pretty solid, right?” 

“If by solid you mean, ‘nauseatingly perfect,’ then yeah. You are.”

“Then if you like this girl and she likes you, it doesn’t matter if it seems too fast or how many dates you’ve been on, all that matters is that you care about each other and want to try and start something together.” 

The look Carlos was giving Mya was sincere and she gave him a soft smile in return, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand in thanks. She looked to TK a moment later, “You know, you’re pretty lucky to have found this one. Even if he is my partner and I am therefore required to give him shit, he’s pretty great.” 

TK turned to look at Carlos, who met his gaze with a matching smile. 

“He is something, isn’t he?” he agreed. 

Mya smiled at the pair of them, but before she could say anything something behind them caught her attention and her smile grew even wider.

“She’s here,” she told them, rising from her chair, “I’m going to go grab her and get her a drink. Play nice when she gets here, please?” 

“As if we could ever do anything but.” 

Mya rolled her eyes and swatted lightly at TK’s head as she walked by, heading towards the blonde woman with a warm smile just inside the doorway of the coffee shop. 

“Can you believe that was us not too long ago?” TK asked as they watched Mya greet her date with a kiss on the cheek.

Carlos shook his head, “that was never really us. We didn't exactly go about this in the usual way. By the time we got to awkward dates with friends we already knew each other’s friends and each other. Kind of an interesting parallel though —  you were on medical leave then too.” 

“Is that supposed to be a jab about my ‘danger magnetism’ Reyes?” 

“It is. Interesting term, by the way. A TK Strand original?” 

“A Judd Ryder one, patent pending.” 

“Of course,” Carlos agreed with a nod. His teasing tone faded as he studied TK, reaching out to run a gentle hand across the still healing cut to the side of his head. The stitches had been removed a few days ago, but he knew with painful certainty that underneath TK’s button-up was another row of sutures, a souvenir from the surgery to piece the broken bits of his ribs back together. Soon these would fade just as the scar on his collarbone had and soon they would just be another reminder of what almost was; of the all-consuming fear that they might have lost this, that Carlos could have lost him.  

“What are you thinking?” TK asked him softly, studying Carlos’s expression. 

“How much trouble you are.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is, but you’re worth it.” 

TK’s face broke out into a wide and beaming grin, “Oh really?”

“Yeah,” Carlos agreed, “you’re worth everything to me.” 

[read on ao3]

[arewelonely]

wolfstar fix-it fic.

I was doing a rewatch of the hp series and got so frustrated... so wrote this to help fix everything. this takes place on The Night, so take care of yourselves if need be.

thank you @rivkahstudies for betaing:) all the love.

cw: brief vomit, mild blood, discussion of character death.

—

Remus landed with a gut punch, the winds of his Apparition spitting past his ears as his pupils dilated.

His breath halted, his throat caved in on itself. His heartbeat ran past his eardrum.

James. Lily. Harry.

The second floor of their house opened to the sky, the roof blown off into smithereens. The doorway was wide open, door shattered in pieces on the lawn. Remus couldn’t tell if lights were on in all the rooms or if a fire rampaged. Either way, crackling came from everywhere, sizzling in the leaves on the trees and coming from deep inside the house as the Potters’ possessions burned.

Debris cluttered the yard, an ashy blanket smothering the trees in the front, the now-charred mums at the doorway, the jack-o’-lanterns along the path. Remus took hesitant steps forward, eyes darting from one smoke-filled window to the next.

His gaze fell on four jack-o’-lanterns in his way–a gasp pushed itself out of his mouth and he clutched his chest.

A deer, a wolf, a dog, and a rat.

He struggled to swallow. Spun abruptly. Bent over, emptying his stomach. Fuck. The vomit splattered on the crisped grass and Remus heaved again at the noise and again at the smoky smell.

He brushed a hand across his face and coughed before turning away and walking towards the door–he needed to get to James, to see if he was okay, needed to find Lily, needed to protect Harry if his parents couldn’t–

A figure emerged in the doorway, panting out the smoke.

His stomach flipped.

He stopped breathing again and shot up his wand arm, directly at Sirius and Harry.

Where was James, where was Lily, he needed to get to them, couldn’t imagine what they were feeling, their best friend–

Sirius’ pants were stained with soot as he stumbled out of the house with Harry in his arms, eyes finally lifting once he stood out of the hazy smoke. His eyes flared when he saw Remus, torso twisting away and wand flying up as if to shield Harry from him. Remus’ jaw dropped.

“You will give Harry to me,” Remus said, each word deliberately leaving his mouth. He knew his arm shook with the urge to do something and spells raced through his brain, but he did not have faith in himself to hit only Sirius and not Harry. He did not have faith in Sirius to not use Harry as a shield–fucking Merlin.

“No, you will back up,” Sirius ordered right back. His eyebrows narrowed and he jutted his wand arm out again. “Get back.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Remus’ voice rose. His eyes pricked and his throat clenched. “Give me Harry right now, you fucking two-faced arsehole, you do not deserve to touch the son of the man who named you his godfather, betraying ass, hand him over!”

“I was not the one who betrayed them, Remus!” Sirius screamed back. “It was Peter, the slimy fuckwad who–” his voice broke, his wand shaking.

Before Remus could respond (fuck if Sirius thought he would believe this bullshit), Harry patted Sirius’ chest and leaned around to get into Remus’ viewpoint.

“Moony?”

Remus let out a shaky breath. Harry had blood on his forehead, but otherwise looked alright and whole, his body settled in the crook of Sirius’ arm. “Hi, Harry.”

The two men stared at each other, chests heaving, the only sound the crackling of their friends’ house in the background and the plants on the property shedding their leaves to the sky.

Harry patted Sirius’ chest again and Sirius slowly looked down at him, apparently hesitant to let Remus exist unscrutinized.

“Mama?” Harry gazed up at Sirius with wide eyes.

Sirius’ jaw jutted forward. His nose twitched. He looked back to Remus, his Adam’s apple jerking.

Remus gasped, stepping back. A jolt ran through his stomach, across his cheekbones. Sirius opened his mouth as if to say something and Remus lifted his wand higher. “Both of them?” he spluttered.

Sirius’ arm tightened around Harry and he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth hard, eyes glancing up to the sky before returning to Remus’ again.

“Give Harry to me now,” Remus started forward. His hand gripped his wand so tightly, he could almost feel splinters in his palm.

Sirius twisted away again and shook his head fiercely. “It was not me!”

Remus let out a scream. “How could it have been anyone but you? You were their fucking Secret Keeper, Sirius! You betrayed them–”

Sirius’ head shook. “No, no! We switched it to Peter. Last week.” His voice broke out. He shifted Harry again. “Last week, we switched.”

Remus scoffed, heat rushing behind his ears. “You expect me to believe that bullshit? I’ve seen you multiple times since last week, Sirius, none of you told me–”

“I–” Sirius’ whole face winced, his mouth trembling. “We–I thought you might be working with them!”

A heavy gasp punched out before his mind had even worked through the logic.

He fell back again, his lungs empty. His wand remained facing Sirius, although who knew how much good it would do now, vibrating while his other hand covered his mouth. While he stared off into the dark forest.

His ears rang. Merlin. Merlin. They thought–

“What possible evidence could you have for such an outrageous accusation?” Remus roared.

Sirius jerked his head towards the woods desperately, eyebrows knit together. “You’ve been away with them for so long, so secretive, I–”

“I’M WORKING FOR THE ORDER!”

“–We live together, I didn’t want you finding out we switched and then–”

“And then what, I go on and tell someone? I put our friends’ lives in danger?” He scoffed and steadied his wand again. “This is a load of absolute shit, give Harry to me before I stun you both.”

“You will not stun us, and you are not getting Harry!”

The boy in question must have moved because Sirius flashed his eyes at Remus and then broke the eye contact, shifting to his godson briefly.

“You want me to accept that Peter betrayed us all, that he… murdered–”

Remus just couldn’t say it, not out loud, not in front of their son.

Sirius’ nostrils flared and then he was screaming back. “I did not betray my brother!”

“He was all our brother–”

“HE IS MY BROTHER!”

The shout echoed around the property. Sirius’ gaze remained steady amidst the twitches of his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth as he tried to keep his composure.

“Where is Peter?”

“I don’t know, when I got here there was no one except for…” Sirius shook his head and swallowed, clutching Harry tighter again. Remus could hear small whimpers.

“Why did you come here? You were supposed to be at the Burrow.”

“I just wanted to check in–”

Remus shot him a glare. “Out of the blue?”

“I had a feeling–”

“A feeling?” Remus shouted. “You expect me to believe a fucking–”

“Why are you here?” Sirius screamed.

“I–” Remus faltered. He shook his head. “I… something was…”

Sirius’ face crumpled. “Something was wrong.”

Remus was no longer sure whether he was breathing or whether the two just shuddered sorrow and anger back and forth. His chest felt empty like never before and his arm, still raised in front of him, shook fiercely.

The woods rustled to Remus’ left and he flinched, pivoting instantly to redirect his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Sirius had done the same, twisting Harry even farther away from this new source of danger.

Fuck, Remus couldn’t do this. He needed to get Harry away from Sirius, away from whatever was about to happen here–which took priority? He risked a glance at Sirius and found him returning the gaze. Strong brow, eyes set.

Remus stopped breathing.

Their friends… were dead.

Their friends were dead.

“Hullo? Who’s there?”

Remus adjusted his stance to prepare to duel and squinted into the woods. A tall, lumbering mass came into the light, ebbing and flickering from the house. Remus tensed, eyebrows furrowing.

The person stepped forward more, brandishing an umbrella in front of them. Remus’ lungs deflated halfway–Hagrid.

He walked closer, umbrella dropping to his side. “Oh, it’s just you lot, and little Harry’s okay, I–” Hagrid’s words faded as he was met with the two wizards’ still wielded wands.

“How do we know it’s actually you?” Sirius’ voice was clenched. He sounded like he did at Order meetings when Dumbledore gave out dangerous missions that meant separation for their friends.

“Why are you here?” Remus asked.

Hagrid nodded, “Professor Dumbledore sent me here to see if… He…”

Remus noted Hagrid’s red cheeks and the dripping eyes. Hagrid lifted his sleeve to his face.

“He had charms on the house to alert him if anything happened. Dumbledore wanted me to get Harry if need be.” Hagrid sniffled and watched the house for a moment before tearing his eyes away. He nodded. “I’m to bring him to his aunt and uncle’s, now.”

Remus hadn’t decided yet what he thought of this situation, this Hagrid situation, this Sirius situation; the situation in general lay in a damp mess across his brain–

But Sirius instantly exploded:

“There is no fucking way that is happening!”

“Dumbledore says it’ll be safest for him, away from–”

“Safest? They’re horrific, the whole lot of them!” Sirius turned his stoic glare at Remus briefly, then faced Hagrid again–

“Professor Dumbledore wants him protected–”

“I AM HIS GODFATHER!” Sirius screamed. Harry gave a whimper again and Remus could hear his squirming against Sirius’ jacket. Sirius’ jaw clenched and he lowered his voice to a growl: “Dumbledore can eat shi–”

Hagrid’s eyes darkened. “Do not speak ill of Dumbledore, now!” He started forward. Sirius lifted his back foot ever so slightly.

Remus moved instantly. He strode to Sirius, their wands still pointing at Hagrid’s now raised umbrella.

Sirius would not run in the other direction. Remus would not let him leave with Harry.

“Stand back,” he ordered Hagrid. “You do not get Harry.” Remus ignored Sirius’ pulsing next to him. Sirius would stay silent. Remus would deal with him once Hagrid was gone.

Harry wiggled in Sirius’ grasp again, his arms reaching over Sirius’ to get Remus’ attention.

“I need to take little Harry now,” Hagrid said. “Dumbledore said not to wait around here. More… You-Know-What’s could be coming.”

Remus grit his teeth. Hagrid had a point. He glanced over at Sirius, who adjusted the weight on his feet again.

“You will not leave without me,” Remus growled as low as he could.

“Harry does not go to–”

“I know.”

Hagrid cleared his throat and stepped forwards. “Now, I’m here on official business for Professor Dumbledore, I need to follow his orders and take Harry–”

“To the flat,” Remus muttered, and gripped onto Sirius’ arm hard, fingertips clenching into his boyfriend’s skin. He knew Sirius was already holding fast to Harry, and he spun them and the world. It all turned into a blur of red and orange against the char of their friends’ destroyed home.

––– 

Harry started sobbing the second they landed in the main room of their flat.

“I know, I know,” Sirius murmured, “Apparating doesn’t feel good. It’s alright, you’re okay now.” He looked down to where Remus’ fingers still dug into his forearm, then up to his face.

Remus startled back. Their eyes froze for a moment, Sirius bouncing Harry on his hip. Remus bit his lip at how deeply bloodshot Sirius’ eyes were. Tears welled up around the edges, or perhaps they had been there the whole time and he had just been too far away to see.

Harry let out another bawl, the volume rising rapidly, and Remus turned to the door and then the fireplace to cast extra wards. He wanted no one entering, not Voldemort coming back to finish the job, not Death Eaters carrying out his bidding, not Dumbledore coming to take their nephew. Remus glanced over his shoulder at Sirius settling Harry on his chest. He cast an extra ward: he wanted no one leaving this apartment tonight, either.

He returned slowly to Sirius. He braced himself. He extended his arm, palm face up, open wide.

Sirius stared at it, murmuring something soothing to Harry, and then he stopped in the middle of a sentence. Remus saw everything click for him just as Harry began to wail more loudly.

“No, no,” Sirius said. He shook his head as he swayed back and forth for Harry.

Remus gave a firm nod and extended his arm further. His wand dangled in his hand at his other side. Sirius glared at it.

Harry screamed.

Sirius opened and shut his mouth a few times. His eyes bared wide and his head shook minutely.

Harry screamed and rocked back and forth in Sirius’ arms, almost tumbling out of Sirius’ clutch.

Sirius shifted Harry fully to one hip, dug his wand out of his pocket. “Fuck you,” he spat. He slapped it into Remus’ hand and turned around, instantly recommencing his talk to Harry.

Remus sighed and pocketed both wands, walking slowly over to the attached kitchen. He poured two glasses of water. He sipped from his and placed the other on the table by the couch… Sirius glanced down at it and then back to the fridge. Sirius closed his eyes on a dark roll. He opened them at Remus.

“We have milk?”

Remus stared at Sirius and watched him rub circles into Harry’s back. Harry whimpered. “I… I can check.” He gave Sirius a once-over and then went to open the fridge again, waiting half a beat as the cool air rushed over him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Sirius said. “I can’t, you have my fucking wand, but… I’m not going anywhere.” His voice wasn’t raised, perhaps even a little lower than usual, but the hurt was there all the same.

Remus knew that Harry liked to sleep on their chests while they talked, Lily said it was something about the rumbling sensation being similar to pregnancy. Harry’s sobs were already just sniffles, and Sirius went back to mumbling to him as he watched Remus. And Remus knew he was being watched, even with his back to him, as he got the sippy-cup from the cupboard and poured some milk.

“You’ll forgive me,” Remus responded. He returned to the living room and walked close to Sirius, doing his best to keep his breath steady. “Hey, Harry, hi, bud.”

Harry turned his face from Sirius’ chest–soot around the edges, blood on his forehead, teary shine around his eyes and all on the apples of his cheeks.

“Want some milk?” He held the sippy-cup close so Harry could grab it.

Harry’s face reddened and contorted, and Sirius shifted him before Harry’s wail could rise again to its full volume. He took the cup from Remus, their fingers entangling as the cup transferred hands, and Remus watched as Sirius’s Adam’s apple bobbed before he resumed his talk to Harry–

“Here, bud, come on, we’re gonna go and wash up, okay? You’ll have some milk, I’m going to get a nice warm washcloth–”

Remus rushed to the bathroom ahead of them. He yanked open the cabinet and pulled down the supplies–washcloth, wizarding healing balm, Muggle healing balm.

He sat on the edge of the tub as Sirius came in, cradling Harry and perching on the toilet. He took the washcloth Remus handed to him.

“Mm, nice and warm, hm? Have some milk, I’m just going to wipe this off, here, and then…”

Sirius halted. He frowned. Harry’s eyes lifted from his sippy-cup to watch as Remus leaned in closer.

On Harry’s forehead. The blood was not just a non-magical gash, or even a spell that had bounced off of something else and accidentally hit Harry. A zigzag, a lightning bolt, etched deep. Dark magic, aimed at Harry. Magic with the intent to hurt a one year-old.

Sirius’ hand curled into a fist around the washcloth. His jaw set and his arm shook until the pressure on the washcloth caused some water to wring out on the floor. Remus watched Sirius’ lips quiver and his eyes go dark looking at his godson’s injury. The wound was wet, and even after Sirius passed the washcloth over it a few more times, the scar still filled with blood.

Remus cleared his throat. “Here, we’ve got some ointment for you.” He lowered his gaze to Harry’s eyes.

The green was piercing.

He pressed a smile on to his face. “Is it okay if I dab a bit on?” He tilted the container so Harry could see, waited for the nod behind the cup.

He used the numbing Muggle balm first, then the wizarding one. He wasn’t sure the wizarding medicine would do anything drastic, as this… Yeah, this was an intensely magical scar. Remus pushed back Harry’s hair and smoothed the bandage. Voldemort had truly tried to murder a one year-old after murdering his parents.

Remus’ fingers stilled.

Voldemort had tried to murder a one year-old after murdering his parents. Why could he not succeed?

“Alright now, time to go to sleep, alright?” Sirius’ voice was soft and gravelly, his head ducking around so Harry could see him. Remus fixed the lids on the medicine.

“Padfoo…”

“Mhm? It’s bedtime now, let’s go get you all cozy…” Sirius lifted Harry up so his head lay on his shoulder and dropped the washcloth in the sink on his way out. Remus watched from his spot on the bathtub as the blood trickled down to the drain.

“Want Mama…”

“I know, bud. Sleepy time now, though, okay?”

“Dada…”

Remus dropped his head to his hands as he heard Sirius take a shuddering breath. They were in Remus and Sirius’ bedroom, now. Remus could picture Sirius’ face trembling.

“Night night, Harry. I love you.”

“Love you, Padfoo.”

Remus’ head fell in between his knees and his eyes gave up trying. His tears dropped to the ground. His shoulders shook. He did his best to keep his breathing down, both for the baby in the next room and for the man trying to help the baby to sleep. But a few sorrowful noises crept out anyway, from deep in his throat where he had no control.

He wanted to sob without care for the people in his apartment. He wanted to lock the bathroom door shut and stand in the shower until the heat burned him away. He wanted to walk into his bedroom and stare at the man inside and feel reassured, but instead he sat and cried as silently as possible and listened as Harry’s breathing steadied and Sirius walked to the doorway of the bathroom.

Remus watched Sirius’s feet as they shifted weight.

“I left–” Sirius coughed. “I left the door open,” he continued hoarsely. “Just a bit. I wanted to be… if he needs anything.”

Remus nodded. He peered at Sirius’ face. He blinked up his lashes, the tears dripping off.

Sirius convulsed, instantly, his mouth scrunching and the corners of his eyes turning down.

“Re.”

His voice was a shell of itself and the two stared at each other and knew the other needed a hug–no, not a hug, that was too proper a sentiment for what they needed. The two stared at each other and knew the other needed human contact, arms wrapped around each other and fingers digging into the other’s back, pressing closer until their heartbeats could echo each other. They needed to shove their noses into the crook of their boyfriend’s neck and shake and hold each other up as the other struggled to stand. They needed to stumble to their room and crawl under the covers on either side of Harry Potter and grip hands and stare at him and each other.

But Sirius had thought (or still did think) that Remus would betray them all.

And Remus had thought (and his stomach wouldn’t stop insisting) that Sirius had betrayed the boy and girl they had grown up with.

This was a difficult, deep in his gut feeling to push aside.

Sirius cleared his throat. “I don’t know where…” he shuddered. “I don’t know where to find Peter. I want to–”

Remus stood abruptly and walked forward. “You aren’t leaving.”

“No,” Sirius frowned, “I know, I’m not leaving you and Harry–”

“No,” Remus clarified, “you aren’t leaving because you could send them all back here.”

Sirius startled back. “Remus, I–you seriously–”

“No, I,” Remus pressed his hands to his head. “I can’t do this in the bathroom. Move.” He needed more space, to be able to pace. He looked into his bedroom and saw the bundle of blankets on the bed where Harry breathed softly.

“He’s asleep,” Sirius said quietly from behind him. “He’s peaceful right now.”

Remus could feel Sirius’ heat. If he leaned back, Sirius would catch him.

“You thought I would betray you,” he spat out, spinning to see the instant torture on Sirius’ face.

“I–I did not know. Peter is our friend–” Sirius glanced at the open bedroom door and backed up. Remus knew he was trying to shield Harry from the noise. Remus knew there was no way either of them would use a charm to separate the two of them from Harry right now, even just a Quietening one. Remus didn’t know what to make of it all.

“I am your…” Remus shook his head, hands kneading on his temple. “Fuck, I’m nothing to you.”

“You are my soul.”

“No, I’m not. I am clearly not. I would never harm them, I would die before–”

“You thought I had–”

“I have evidence!” Remus hissed. Sirius’ entire face sunk. “What the hell did you have, Sirius?”

Sirius wept. “I had–we had doubts.”

Remus punched out a breath again. “They doubted my loyalty too?”

Sirius lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “You were away often. You were unresponsive when you were here, it… it was hard to know what was going on with you.”

“You were living with me.”

Sirius jerked his head at the past tense. Remus held the eye contact; he did not get to pull emotions here. He would defend himself or Remus would stun him.

“I figured if something was actually going on, I would figure it out sooner or later, but James and Lily, they didn’t have that–”

Sirius fell to the couch and rested his head in between his knees, palms covering his face.

Remus bit down hard on his lip. James and Lily didn’t have that kind of time.

“They…” The sentence died in his throat.

Sirius met his hesitant stare. “James had fallen by the doorway,” he whispered. “Lily was in Harry’s room. Harry was in his crib, um, just… staring at her.” He shuddered and the tears began a new flow. “He lifted his arms and called my name when I walked in, asking for Lily and James as we…” his voice lowered to just a breath, “passed them.”

Sirius curled forward more and Remus could no longer tell the difference between his own heaving cries and breaths for sustenance.

Remus crouched down in front of Sirius and pulled both wands out of his pocket. He set them on the table and bit his lip.

Sirius looked up through his lashes. Not at the wands, not at the table.

Remus frowned and chewed his lower lip.

Sirius shuddered out another sob and held Remus’ gaze. “I did not murder James and Lily.” He blinked and tears rushed out. “I did not betray our family.”

Remus moved forward, into Sirius and on to the couch. Remus wrapped one of his legs around Sirius’ hips and pulled him close, his hand clutching at Sirius’ shoulders, Sirius grabbing both the front and back of Remus’ shirt, his curled and smokey hair tickling the bottom of Remus’ chin and then taking over all of Remus’ senses as he pressed his face into the top of Sirius’ head. He wrapped his arms around Sirius’ back and the two rocked back and forth.

“Remus, Re–” Sirius sobbed.

“I–” Remus shut his eyes so the whole world turned black. “I’m so sorry.”

Remus grabbed him tighter.

[alitaimagines]

“I don’t give a fuck about you anyway, whoever said I gave a shit about you? you never share your toys or communicate, I guess I’m just a play date to you.”  

character: bakugou katsuki, dabi - MY HERO ACADEMIA 

note: if any of you have any suggestions on any MHA characters you’d like to see written for, DM me or send me an ask!

“you are kidding me Bakugou?” his face scrunched up at the sound of you using his last name, “you can’t decide what’s best for our relationship when I have no say in it!” 

he scoffed, “stop trying to save this relationship! we’re going to be heroes! you know heroes can’t handle relationships!” you gripped his wrist as your eyes darkened, “yes it can! how would you know! we haven’t even tried it!” you retorted. 

a few of your classmates watched as the two of you bickered. it was odd for the two of you to fight so openly in front of everyone. out of the three years that the two of you were together, they maybe heard both of you argue once or twice? if even that. 

“because our relationship was doomed to fail from the start.”

your eyes widened at what he said as you heard Mina and Momo loudly gasp. you had no idea how to respond to his comment but the anger inside of you was very evident on your face. 

“sometimes I wonder how you’ll be a pro hero with an attitude like that. maybe you were right. maybe you were the reason why All Might retired.” 

Midoriya’s and Kirishima’s mouth dropped. everyone knew that was an extremely sensitive topic for Bakugou and you hit him right where it hurt. 

the both of you stared at each other before everyone watching realized that the both of you were activating your quirks. 

“hey! hey! don’t!” Kirishima screamed as he stood in between the two of you, “walk away! one of you walk away!” Kaminari added as you scoffed and shrugged Kirishima’s hand off your shoulder and walked away.

-

graduation finally happened all of you were packed and back home. you had found an apartment a few towns over to start your career. you had a few agencies to choose from and you decided to treat yourself to a night out on your own. 

you had found a bar not too far from your apartment. the lights were dim and you could hardly see any faces in the crowd. 

“never seen you around here before,” you heard a deep voice say behind you. you looked up to see a man with bright blue hair when you realized where you were. 

you were in a villain bar. you knew you moved to a pretty rough neighborhood but you didn’t expect to be in the yakuza and villain district. 

“just moved across the street, what’s your name?” you asked grabbing his hand. you knew exactly who you were talking too but you decided to act extremely dumb to it, “Dabi, what’s yours?” he asked.

you hesitated before shrugging, what was the worst that could happen?

“ ( your name ),” you said giving him a soft smile, “nice to meet you!” Dabi felt his heart skip a beat. 

he never had anyone be so nice to him. if anyone ever was nice to him, it was because he probably threatened them. but you? you had no ‘idea’ who he was and truthfully, he wanted to find out how long it would take for you to find out his real identity. 

“why are you on this side of town?” he asked as you sighed, “the apartments are cheap. graduating school and trying to find work on limited sources led me to these apartments.” 

Dabi nodded as you ordered a drink, “would you like one? they’re cheaper than I anticipated,” you offered Dabi. he remained silent before picking some random drink on the board. 

“DABIII!” he heard a girl behind him say. you looked at the ash blond girl before giving her a nervous smile, “oh, you’re cute! I see your busy so I’ll tell you later!” she exclaimed before prancing away. 

you gave him a look as he sighed dramatically, “don’t mind her....she’s special,” you giggled as the bartender gave you the drinks. you held up your drink and did a small toast before chugging the shot back. 

“oh, this is strong!” you giggled as you tried to hide your cringe induced face, “yeah, you’re drinking straight tequila, what did you expect?” he joked. 

you rolled your eyes before ordering another two, “well, not this however, it wasn’t bad!” you added, “so, Dabi!” you said as he rolled his eyes at the nickname, “what do you do for a living?” you asked innocently. 

his eyes widened, “stuff that you don’t need to worry about,” you pouted as Dabi sighed, “princesses like you don’t need to worry about such things,” your face immediately warmed up to the nickname. 

you moved your way onto Dabi’s lap as he wrapped his arm around your waist, “aw, here I thought you were going to open up to me,” you joked as he raised an eyebrow, “I’m a dangerous person sweetheart, you being in the same building as me could get you into trouble.” 

you laughed before holding him closer to you, “who cares?” he was surprised by your response but didn’t say much. all he did was hold you by the waist and watched the people in the bar make a fool of themselves. 

-

you watched as your friends tried to stop the villains on the screen. word around hero agencies is that a former U.A. student turned to the LoV. some thought it was a rumor while others thought it was true. no one could figure out who exactly it was though. 

the rumors surrounding your sudden disappearance was that you moved to another country to do hero work there. you had no idea who started the rumor but you could help and laugh about it. 

Dabi watched as you watched your former friends struggle to fight the villains. he knew you had turned to the LoV for your own personal reasons but he could tell that a part of you was still struggling to fully turn to villainy.

“those idiots have no idea what they’re doing,” Dabi inquired as you laughed, “no, they do. they’ll defeat them, I can assure you.” 

he grabbed your hand and stared at you, “don’t tell me you’re rooting for them!” he exclaimed as you shook your head, “I’m not but it’s the truth. you want to know how to defeat them? I’m your only gateway in and I’m telling you, these next generation heroes aren’t going to be easy to defeat. they know what they’re doing and it’s going to take a lot of us to be able to defeat them.” 

Dabi knew what you said was true. your turn to the LoV was a big one for the league. they reeled in someone who knew the strength and weaknesses of the next wave of heroes. 

in retrospect, he knew how wanted you were going to be once you made your first attack. you knew the power you held and you kind of used it to your advantage. 

dating Dabi and having Shiggy at the palm of your hand, you felt on top of the league. any little thing could turn you back to heroism and that was something no one wanted to happen. by now, you knew a lot of the deep secrets going on inside of the league and could possibly be the downfall of it if you turned back.

“guess you’re right,” he muttered as you rolled your eyes, “I know I am but that’s why I’m here to help you. especially you,” you whispered as you gave him a peck on the side of the lip, “and to help Shigaraki,” you added on knowing he was going to get annoyed by that. 

Dabi brought you on top of him as you gave him a quick kiss, “but don’t worry! I’ll pick my little fire boy over handys mcgee any day,” Dabi slapped your ass making you groan, “damn right you will,” he stated before grabbing you and wrapping you into his arms. 

“now let me remind you that you don’t belong to anyone besides me.” 

-

this was going to be the first mission you were going to be on and actually ‘show’ yourself to the world. you felt nervous jitters running through your body as you put on your very unique uniform. 

Toga had helped you pick your uniform out. you went with black leggings and a blue baseball-esque jersey. the color was very reminiscent to Dabi’s fire and he couldn’t help but poke fun at you when he first seen it. his second immediate thought was possessiveness. 

you were a new villain. a new cute villain. wearing clothes that honored him in a way. and the cherry that could go on top of that sundae would be you fighting your former boyfriend. 

the mission all of you were going on was a simple one. going to save Twice from prison and cause a little havoc while your add it. 

you were going to partner up with Toga as Shigaraki and Dabi partnered up and went a separate way. you were going to be the little chaos that was going to in sue so you could get your five seconds of fame. 

while Dabi and Shiggy made their way inside, you and Toga started to attack the prison guards. you were going to give them a small five second window to save Twice. 

you grabbed one of Toga’s knifes and stabbed one of the guards before doing that to the next three. Toga had never seen someone as cute as you stab so many people before and if she had to be honest, she found it extremely hot. 

“if Dabi hadn’t gotten to you first, I would have taken his place,” Toga winked at you as you rolled your eyes, “maybe you can join us one day,” you joked back as her pale face went a deep shade of red. 

“STOP FLIRTING!” Shiggy screamed through the earphone piece as Dabi agreed, “you touch her and I’ll burn you alive,” Dabi simply said making the two of you laugh. 

once you finally met up with Shiggy and Dabi, the four of you shoved Twice into one of the unnamed cars and sent it away before making your grand exit. 

you grabbed Dabi’s hand as you and Toga pranced to the front of the building. Dabi had to light the building on fire as the final act of the mission and during that time, you three fought the heroes who tried to attack him. 

“no way,” Bakugou heard Deku say as he gave his friend a confused look, “what?” he asked harshly as followed Deku’s eye trajectory. 

you had stabbed a guard in the gut making the person fall to the ground, “she’s the former U.A. student!” he screamed to the rest of the heroes. 

they all watched you stab, punch, and slice different people in horror. Bakugou was mortified. he would have never thought that it was you who had made the turn to villainy and if he was being honest, a part of his heart broke.

someone he once loved was now his enemy. not only that, as they moved in to attack all four of you, he watched as you gave Dabi a passionate kiss. 

“hi boys!” you exclaimed as you watched Toga’s eyes light up with excitement at the sight of Deku, “how are you!” you asked as they walked up to you in nervousness. 

Bakugou immediately walked up to you but before he could even get the chance to be six feet in front of you, Dabi let out a ball of fire. 

“sorry Katsuki, you don’t get that right but the right you do get is to face me one on one!” Toga and Shiggy laughed, kind of interested in seeing that fight, “I won’t. I can’t.” Bakugou said as you pouted. 

“aw, that sucks! I really wanted to pound you to the ground! but I guess that’ll be for another day,” you mocked as you gave him a smirk before dropping the bloody knife on the ground, “I guess we’ll see you later?” you asked as you ruffled the ash blond’s hair. 

Deku immediately went to attack you but Dabi pushed you back into him before feeling Shiggy and Toga shove you both inside of the car. 

“until next time sweethearts! can’t wait to see all of your pretty faces again!” 

the last sight that Bakugou had of you was kissing Dabi as he deepened it rather quickly. if there was one thing about Bakugou, it was his will and determination. 

and now he was determined to bring you back. bring you back to the side you belonged. to heroism. and even more importantly, back to him. 

ALITA

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme Chapter 15

Thomas X Reader

Word Count: 1950

Summary: Evidence. A little stab in the heart. Two idiots missing the point.

by @adventuresintooblivion

Thomas huffed into the cold night air. The family meeting that Aunt Pol had called ran late. As time ticked on his mind had begun to wander, it wasn’t until Arthur had smacked him with a newspaper that he’d realized he was shaking the table by bouncing his leg.

“So anxious to get out of here are ya?” Aunt Pol raised her eyebrow.

Arthur playfully elbowed him, “He’s just excited to get to that nice warm bed at the Garrison with what’s her face.”

Aunt Pol let her gaze bore through the younger Shelby brother, “Would that be Grace or Y/N?”

“While it’s not any of your business, I’m not sleeping with either of them,” Thomas growled as he shoved Arthur aside. “Why do you have that sour look on your face, Pol?”

She folded her arms, the matter at hand forgotten, “That Grace girl, I don’t trust her.”

John peeked up from a ledger, “You don’t like any girl that comes and tries to take your boys away.”

“That’s not true,” Aunt Pol sniffed. 

Thomas rolled his eyes, “So if I asked Y/N to marry me tomorrow you’d be fine with it?”

“As a matter of fact, I won’t be opposed to it.”

Silence fell over the room. It hung heavy in the air as future possibilities began to unfold in the minds of various Shelbys. But Thomas didn’t let himself dream, he wouldn’t. 

“Speaking of Y/N, I hope she doesn’t mind if we steal you for a night.” Arthur stood to slap Thomas on the shoulder.

He raised his eyebrow, “What on earth for?” 

“Well, John over there has been planning a heist for a long while, and he’s too nervous to bring it up himself.”

“Hey!”

“And we figured you should give it a quick looking over.”

Thomas glanced over at John curiously, “Alright, I’m all ears.”

〜

Grace and Y/N lay against the cold stone for hours. The clock ticked by in that warped way brought along by discomfort. Hours passed in moments, but, more often than not, it slowed to a crawl. Each shift brought a new source of cold waiting eagerly to seep into their bones. Each breath conjured small puffs of steam before their lips.

It wasn’t until morning that boots crunched through the gravel drive outside. Henry shivered against the cold of the morning. While snow refused to fall, ice still formed in the mud outside the Garrison. Fog hung low in the air as it rolled off the Cut, and, quite frankly, Henry found himself wishing for summer.

Distracted, he hurriedly shoved his key into the lock. It gave too easily. At first he didn’t register anything amiss, but soon his tired mind caught up. Something was wrong. The door swung open revealing a gaping hole of darkness that seemed to yawn open in the stark morning light. 

He took a deep breath fidgeting with the lock. “Grace? Are you in here?” His voice cracked.

The creak of the grimy wood floor was the only answer. He glanced around quickly, starting when his boot squished in a small muddy footprint. He licked his lips.

“This isn’t funny Grace! You know I like a clean floor.”

All he heard was the soft hiss of the radiator. Finally, he looked around. The scent of stale beer and sweat assaulted his nose, quickly leading him to the source. Several buckets of excess stout still waited to be taken out. A thin film coated the bar, pretty typical for the end of a night. But now?

“This place is too bloody dark,” he said to himself in a singsong voice. He wasn’t sure if it made him feel better, but it helped fill the heavy darkness. He wracked his brain for where he’d put matches. The backroom. 

Henry rushed forward, tripping over a chair in his eagerness for light. He felt out wildly for the rough wood. His hand collided with the dense slab with a loud THUD. Shaking the handle, it refused to budge.

“Shit. Again?” He fumbled for his keys

“Henry?”

“Y/N? Is Grace in there with you? She was supposed to lock up and the place is a bloody disaster.”

“Yeah…”

Henry grumbled to himself, “Of course. You girls been in there all night?”

He cycled through several keys, cursing all the while. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the door creaked open. Immediately, Henry was assaulted by cold air.

There he found Grace and Y/N huddled together between kegs. Grace’s blonde hair hung limply, her clothes wrinkled, but what stood out the most were her blue lips and pale skin.

Henry stumbled forward, “Christ, is she ok?”

Y/N shrugged in an attempt to hide a shiver. “Dunno, but we need to get out of here.” She stood on wobbly knees. Henry waved her away when she tried to help and soon both women were upstairs beneath blankets.

“Well, I guess I”ll just have to do without my barmaid today. You two stay up here and warm up. Keep an eye on her, alright?”

Y/N nodded as she absently put a kettle on the stove. 

“Do you want me to call Mr. Shelby?” he asked, setting Grace’s bag by the bed, having found it behind the bar.

“No, I’m gonna hop into bed with her, heat her up. Besides, there’s not much he could do. But you might want to get the window downstairs fixed.”

“Window?”

Y/N settled onto the bed, “The one in the backroom. It’d popped off its hinges. We tried to close it, but it wouldn’t budge.”

Henry shook his head. “Damn, alright. If you need anything I’ll be downstairs. And make sure Grace is up and about soon. I… Don’t feel like hiring another girl in this mess.” 

“Aww, you like her,” Y/N grinned.

“She works hard and is easy on the eyes,” he waved her off. “You can’t beat that on this side of town.”

“Mhmm. Go, get. If Tommy asks, try not to freak him out.”

The informality earned her a raised eyebrow but only silence answered. After last night she definitely wasn’t going to complain. She readjusted Grace’s blanket, the top of her bag coming into view. 

There was a pull, a gravity towards that bag, that little primal part of her brain that needed to uncover secrets. It wasn’t proper. But since when have I been proper? Y/N glanced towards Grace before reaching for the leather handles. 

Inside, she found several things that were pretty typical; however, a metal glint caught her attention. She’d already committed to the act of snooping, so she reached in to see. Her heart grew cold as her hand closed around a familiar sensation. She pulled out a small gun. 

Y/N’s hand began to shake. She had proposed the idea of Grace working with Inspector Campbell months ago. Gently, she set the gun down before continuing to rifle through the small bag. While the Garrison was in a rough part of town, it didn’t warrant a gun, did it?

It wasn’t long before her hand closed around a small metal object. She already knew what it was before she laid eyes on it, but that didn’t stop her. A badge. Fuck.

Grace shifted beneath the covers. Y/N quickly shoved the badge and gun where she found them. Her heart tried to beat out of her chest as she swung the purse to the foot of the bed, barely preventing it from colliding with the foot post.

Moments after her hand released the straps, the sound of feet pounding up the steps echoed through the hallway. Every instinct inside her told her to recoil, to hide what she’d done. She forced herself to turn toward Grace and not fidget as Thomas stormed into the room. Grace jumped, sleepily rolling towards the door.

“Hey Tommy,” Y/N said as calmly as she could. There’s a gun less than a foot from me.

“Are you two alright?” he asked. “Henry told me what happened.”

She rolled her eyes, “I told him not to freak you out.”

He stared at her like she’d grown a second head, “Is there a nice way to tell someone two people almost froze to death?”

“Eh, you’re just frazzled cause it’s us.” The color drained from his face as he stared down at them. Y/N grimaced. “I’ll try not to hit the nail so much on the head next time.”

Grace slowly sat up, seemingly unaware of what the others were saying. “We got out?”

“Yeah, Henry found us this morning. How’re you feeling?” Y/N reached out to brush her fingers over Grace’s skin. It was still cooler than she’d have liked, but miles better compared to only a few minutes ago.

She instinctively leaned into Y/N’s warm touch, “I can’t believe we survived the night.” 

Y/N froze, trying to figure out a way to tell Grace to shut the hell up. She didn’t get the chance to before Thomas closed the distance between them. He leaned forward to investigate Grace’s condition, falling back into that leadership role he found himself in way too often.

In his haste, his elbow pushed into Y/N’s hip, forcing her to scramble onto her feet before she was shoved off the bed. She cast a glare at him before her eyes landed on Grace’s purse.

She’s working for Campbell. The words almost pried themselves from her lips as she watched Thomas fuss over Grace. Then he brushed his thumb over Grace’s lower lip.

“Are you alright, Love?” His voice was soft, tender and sweet. The same voice he’d use under the cover of night when he and Y/N were alone. Except now, it wasn't for her.

She’d known this was happening, and, yet, it didn’t stop the dagger from ripping through her heart. It didn’t save her stomach from dropping through the floor. She whirled around, looking for something, anything, to distract her from what was happening. The teapot had started to scream.

She busied herself with making tea, even though stupidly, most of it consisted of waiting. Y/N found her fingers tapping on the counter, reciting her mother’s words about never stirring steeping tea. Someone cleared their throat, causing her to jump.

“Did you hear me?” Thomas asked.

“No, Shelby I didn’t hear you.” 

Thomas frowned. “I’m ‘Shelby’ now?”

Y/N shook her head, finally facing him, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I was asking if you were alright.”

She glanced at Grace who was looking about the room, “As good as I can be, I guess.”

“Y/N, if this bothers you, all you have to do is say something.” He gestured towards the bed. 

“Oh, so I need to ask for your attention now?” Y/N couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. 

“You never indicated that-.”

“I never said I didn’t want to. I only said that I wouldn’t be… You know what? Now is not the time for this conversation.” Y/N rubbed her eyes. “We have to talk anyway.”

She paused. Y/N had told Aunt Pol about Grace but she had intentionally kept the information from Thomas. If she told him now it was as good as lying to him. He wouldn’t care that she didn’t have proof before, or that it could’ve gotten an innocent woman killed. His only concern would be her divided loyalties between him and her conscience.  

“How about the races? Later this week?” She glanced up at him, hoping his love of horses would win over his curiosity. 

He seemed to consider before finally nodding, “Wednesday?”

“Wednesday.”

[msmarvelouswinchester]

Hello Stranger

Summary - You were going through a rough patch in your life. As you were drinking away your problems, you met with a green eyed man who acts a little too nice towards you.

Pairing - Dean x Reader

Warning - Mentions of crappy life, swearing, drinking, angst, fluff-ish, plot twist.

Word Count - 2.1k

Square Filled - One Night Stand ( @spndeanbingo ) - it is just mentioned

A/N - This is written for @impala-1979’s Words for Love challenge. My word was Viraag in Hindi. Viraag - The emotional pain of being separated from a loved one.

The divider is by the amazingly talented @talesmaniac89

This is also my 5000th post on tumblr. Woah! Also I am back to my angsty self *evil laughs*

Rolling your eyes, you check your phone for the thousandth time that evening for any message.

“Bitch,” you grumbled, thinking about how your best friend had ditched you, again. You had waited for almost two hours for your friend to show up before you decided to leave the bar at first but then you decided to stick around for a couple of drinks.

Life has been kicking you in the ass lately. Maybe staying home and binging F.R.I.E.N.D.S for the hundredth time suddenly didn't seem like a bad idea considering the girl who you had thought to be your best friend had left you alone in a bar full of drunk and horny dudes.

Staring at the glass of whiskey in front of you, you sighed aloud grabbing the attention of the man on the stool beside you.

“What's a pretty girl like you doing here all by yourself?” You looked to your right towards the source of the sound and saw a man staring at you with a creepy little smile on his face. You shuddered at the thought of answering the man.

“Not in the mood. Back off,” you grumbled, downing the glass of whiskey in one go. The sleazy person got up from his seat and stalked his way towards you.

“Fuck off,” you growled, as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Back off! That's my wife you're talking to,” A deep voice growled from behind the man, taking you by surprise, “Hey honey. Sorry to keep you waiting, I had to work an extra shift.”

You looked up and a freckle faced, flannel clad man staring at you with his beautiful forest green eyes. Your heart started to beat loudly as the man put a hand around your shoulder.

“Whatever dude,” the drunk grumbled and went off in another direction, probably in search of another person who can keep his bed warm for one night.

“What a creep,” you mumbled, the ominous feeling finally leaving you, “thanks for coming to my rescue.”

“No problem,” he said, removing his hands from your shoulder and taking a seat on the stool beside you, “So can I buy you a drink?” The green eyed man smiled.

“I just told that man to fuck off, what makes you think I will let you touch me?” You said, your eyes narrowing at him, “I am not your wife.”

“I don't do relationships and who said anything about touching? You look like-”

“Shit?” You joked.

“I wasn't gonna say that,” he smirked, “maybe tired was the word.”

“Gee thanks. Life's been tough, boss is an asshat, people who I thought to be my friends turned out to be nothing but snakes,” you said, signalling for a refill, “now, look at me rambling about my fucked up life to a stranger.”

“You need someone to talk to and I'm a good listener,” the man had a soft look on his face, “Name's Dean.”

“Y/N,” you smiled.

“See I am not a stranger anymore,” he chuckled.

“What am I? Four? You say your name and you're suddenly not a stranger, huh? Stranger danger, I hope you know that,” he played along.

“You're something else, you know that?” Dean smirked.

“I know. Heard that a lot. So different that no one sticks around,” you said.

“Then they don't know the real you.”

“Why are you wasting your time?” Dean tilted his head at you, confusion evident on his face, “I already told you I'm not in the mood. I just wanna get drunk tonight.”

“You seriously think that I am acting friendly just because I wanna get in your pants?” You kept quiet sending him a clear message that it was exactly what you were thinking. “You need a friend tonight and not a one night stand.”

“Why?”

“Why? I just told you the reason.”

“Dean, there are other girls in this bar who have been ogling you the whole night and giving me the side eye. Why are you wasting your night with me?” You asked.

“Because I know how it feels to hit rock bottom in your life when all you need is someone to talk to,” Dean said. You nodded slowly at the man’s words.

“What about you Dean? How's life goin’ on for you?” You asked.

“Full of crap.” He gave a dry chuckle.

You took a glass of drink and raised it, Dean mimicking your actions. “Cheers to crappy life.”

“Cheers.”

“Sometimes I think what if my life was a little different. More adventurous, more exciting,” you wondered.

“Trust me, sweetheart, this life is what you want,” Dean said, taking a sip of his drink.

You didn't realise how much time you had spent talking to the green-eyed man in front of him. You were slowly succumbing to the charm of the man and there was this nagging voice in your head telling you to get away from him as fast as possible but in your heart, you couldn't believe that Dean would have a single bad bone in his body.

“Tell me about yourself.” You asked, hoping you could find out more about him and stop being paranoid.

“My life's pretty sucky like yours, no offence,” he chuckled.

“None taken.” You giggled.

“There are days where I just wanna give up, like today but then I meet this beautiful girl who effectively makes my day better,” Dean said with a cheeky grin on his face.

“And who might be this beautiful girl?”

“She is sitting right in front of me,” he smirked, making your heart flutter in your chest. Maybe Dean was genuinely a good man.

“I am happy I could make your day better because all I did was ramble about my stupid life,” you smiled.

“You have no idea how lucky I am to see you tonight. Did I help you?”

“You did. Thank you for tonight, Dean.” You said, leaning into kissing him on the cheek.

“You thinkin’ of going back home now?” He asked politely.

“I am, considering my friend will never show up and I don't want to waste anymore of your time. You want to….come with me?” You hesitated, a little unsure about taking him to your home but you were quite surprised when he shook his head.

“I already told you that I don't wanna get into your pants. Just holding up my end of the promise,” he smiled, signalling the bartender to let him know you would be leaving, “You sure you're okay to go home alone?”

“I'll call a cab,” you said.

“I can drop you off, I have my Baby parked outside,” he said, waving his hand towards the exit.

“Baby?” You cocked your head.

“My 67 Chevy Impala, she is my Baby,” Dean beamed, puffing his chest out.

“You have a nice taste in cars, Dean,” you smiled, “but you do know this kind of feels like the start of every roadside horror movie?”

“So I got an upgrade from the creep to a psycho killer machine?” He asked, a cocky grin plastered on his face, making you shrug.

“Just sayin’. Who knows maybe you're David freaking Yaegar,” you teased.

“Why don't you get in my car and find out? Maybe it's my time to slice and dice,” Dean grinned, your eyes widening at the reference.

“You have good taste in movies too,” you said, “but let me tell you if you kill me, I will come back to haunt your ass, Mister.”

“I will gladly have a cute ghost like you haunt me my entire life,” Dean chuckled, and guided you towards the exit.

“Damn, she is one sexy car,” you let out a low whistle and saw Dean smirking at you.

“Time to slice and dice. Get inside the car now,” he chuckled.

After an hour, with proper directions, the black Chevy had come to a halt in front of your house. Dean had previously told you that he was in the town for a couple more days at the “Red Motel” with his brother.

“You sure you don't wanna-”

“Nah. I'm a man of my words, Y/N,” he flashed you a smile.

“Okay. Thank you for tonight,” you said, “You're a good man, Dean. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, handsome.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, a lump forming in his throat as he heard you call him handsome.

“Don't be a stranger if we cross paths again,” You gave him a quick hug before climbing out of the car.

He gave you a small wave as he revved up the engine. You looked as he turned his car and drove out of your place. You smiled as your mind replayed the moments from the evening. You went inside your house, closing the door behind your back.

“What?” Dean grumbled as he saw his brother staring at him, the moment he entered the motel room.

“Where the hell were you? I called you so many times,” Sam frowned at his brother who stumbled into the motel room.

“At the bar.”

“Why are you doing this?” Sam asked, “This is the third time in two weeks that you drove to this town.”

“Forgot the huge vampire nest we hunted?” He said, opening the cap of the beer bottle.

“Was it just about the case? I don't think my memory is failing me but doesn't Y/N live in this same town?” Sam raised his voice, “Did you or did you not go to the bar hoping you would meet her?”

Dean kept quiet.

“You can't do this to yourself Dean. It was your idea - you pushed her away!” It took Dean by surprise as he heard his brother yell at him. It was rare that Sam got this mad, “now you can't just waltz back into her life!”

“Sammy-”

“Don't ‘Sammy’ me, Dean. You-you did this to her, to us. Instead of dealing with the situation, you ran away from it!” Sam shoved his brother.

“I know! I know because I was the one who told Cas to erase her memories - give her a new life! I know it, Sammy. I know it better than anyone because I was the one who almost got her killed!” The green eyed hunter's voice broke at the end.

“You could have talked to her. She would have done anything to help you. It wasn't you.It was the mark.,” Sam said.

“It was still me,” he whispered, “she was the only one who could have talked me out of it but I didn't want that. This life - it's not for her, man. She deserves to have someone who is not ninety percent crap-”

“No. You don't get to say that. She was family. You shouldn't have made that decision for her,” the younger Winchester scoffed, “She would have stayed unlike you running from the problem because she loved you.”

Dean swallowed, “I loved her too. I still do but at least now she is safe….alive. She now has to deal with stupid bosses and asshole friends instead worrying about monsters, thinking about everyday to be your last.”

“Then let her go, man. Y/N’s not yours anymore. Y/N’s not your wife anymore,” Sam said, patting his brother's shoulder, “She was like a sister to me. I miss her. Everyday. I know you do too. But you gotta let her go.” Sam walked out of the room, tears pricking at his eyes.

Nursing the bottle in his hand, Dean stared at the bland wall in front of him. Closing his eyes shut, he remembered the intoxicating smell of yours entrapping him when you had hugged him, the way you were continuously playing with a loose strand of hair while talking to him. Looking down at his right arm, his left hand reached into his jeans pockets.

“I still love you, sweetheart,” he mumbled.

Twirling the wedding band between his fingers, he scoffed, “Till death do us part.”

Feedback is appreciated!

[thepointoftheneedle]

Happy New Year!

I wrote a little New Year’s Eve one shot.  It’s below the cut or you can read it on AO3 here.  (I’ve started a collection of short pieces just to keep things tidy.) I hope you are all able to celebrate safely and I wish you a healthy and happy 2021.

It was obvious that the party was going off the rails as soon as Archie started lining up shots along the whole length of the marble counter top.  He called Reggie out and Reggie never backed down from a challenge to his machismo so they both worked their way along the little bullets of stupid until, breathless and belly laughing, they slid to the floor, their eyes swivelling in their dumb skulls like cartoon coyotes that had just been smashed over the head with an Acme anvil.  It was nine fifteen. Betty had wondered if Veronica would be mad about it but she seemed in the mood for some chaos as she set up two more lines of glasses opposite each other on the counter and challenged Cheryl who had never met an unnecessary drama she didn’t like.  

Betty had drunk a very pleasant glass of good champagne and had been contemplating having a couple more before midnight.  She’d never been a big drinker so for her that was cutting loose.  It had been, to put it crudely, a shit-show of a year and she was glad to see the back of it.  At the last New Year’s party she had been showing off a dazzling engagement ring, about to start the job that she had been expensively and laboriously trained for and she and her intended had signed the lease on a cute and well appointed apartment in Sunset Park which everyone said was the up and coming neighbourhood. The world had been unfolding for her like a flower.  Then the frost had come and scorched the petals with its chill. This year she was single, her job sometimes felt like it was eating her up and that cute apartment burned through every cent of her pay check now she had to make the rent alone.  It was possible that she was the saddest girl in a cocktail dress on the whole island of Manhattan, she was certainly the soberest person at the party.

An hour later the shots were completely out of hand and Betty had only just prevented Ethel from throwing up into the piano.  Moose made some half hearted effort to restore order, offering glasses of water, trying to start a game of Charades, but Kevin was in too mischievous a mood for his efforts to bear any fruit and instead they were embarking on Drunk Jenga, the rules of which seemed to be that you took a shot whenever you removed a block and then another when you placed it on top of the stack.  She imagined you took a shot if the tower fell but she didn’t stick around to find out.  She sidled over to where the Pol Roger was stacked, neglected,  in its very own champagne refrigerator and helped herself while everyone else was supporting the economy of Mexico by the prodigious consumption of Patron Silver.

She took her recharged glass to the window and looked out at the snowy expanse of Central Park far below.  It looked like the idealised interior of a snow globe, the air glassy and still and a huge yellow moon surveying its domain.  Betty remembered walking through the park with Trev last Christmas, bundled in a thick coat and scarf.  They’d held hands inside one of his mittens. They’d made snow angels.  They’d skated at the Wollman Rink and drunk hot chocolate afterwards.  Her life had been a cover image from a romance novel. This year she had spent Christmas being patronised by Polly’s constant offers of introductions to a succession of Jason’s frat brothers and golfing buddies.  Eventually she’d pointed out that if she’d wanted some obstructionist, bigoted blowhard she could have found one herself, without Polly’s oh so sympathetic intervention.  Polly cried and Betty apologised but she still wasn’t going to go on a date with a junior vice president of acquisitions even if he did have a weekend place in Connecticut.  She wouldn’t tolerate being paraded in front of prospective suitors like a prize dairy cow at the county show, not by Veronica and certainly not by her sister.

As she reminisced she became aware of Archie and Veronica deep in conversation in the corner of the room.  “We have a teeny emergenshy,” Veronica said, her hand on Archie’s forearm.  Veronica was never less than perfectly composed but that slur at the end of her word and the ramped up sincerity gave her away to her best friend. She was sozzled. “Only two bottles of Patron left and then the cupboard is bare. I may have over-ordered on the fizz and neglected the tequila.”

Archie nodded, taking the situation as seriously as his wife.  Then some kind of light dawned on his handsome face.  “We’ll get the magic doorman to get us some.  He’ll be on duty now.  I’ll go slip him a fifty and he’ll take care of it.”  He turned to reach for his wallet and promptly fell on his face. It was ten to eleven and all was decidedly not well.

Betty went over to help Archie off the rug.  He grinned even though his nose was bloody. “Ronnie, Betty’s all sober and sensible.  She can go talk to the wizard.  Here Betty, here’s fifty for a tip and Ronnie’ll give you her credit card for the booze.  Okay?  Shit I’m bleeding… still it’s not a party til something gets broke.”

V was looking at her imploringly now.  Somewhere there was the sound of glass smashing and Monroe’s attempt to do chin ups on the kitchen doorframe seemed to be bringing plaster down on the floor.  Betty would rather be almost anywhere than right here so she nodded at her friend.  "What do you need V?”

V explained that the building’s night doorman was a kind of fixer.  When Tom in 204 had forgotten his wife’s birthday Jones had got him a gluten free chiffon cake iced with her name at two thirty on a Thursday morning along with a bouquet of out of season narcissuses....narcissi? When the little boy in 116 had told his mama at midnight that he needed a George Washington costume for school the next day the night doorman had sourced it, complete with powdered wig, before the little tyke had finished his cheerios.  When V had realised an hour before her 5.15 a.m. flight to Miami that she had completely forgotten her niece’s confirmation gift he had sourced a personalised Catholic Bible bound in white leather which he handed to her as she got into her cab.  “He’s a miracle worker B.  Just tell him we need a case…no two cases of Patron Silver before midnight.  Give him the fifty but tell him I’ll make it a hundred if he can fix it by eleven thirty. OK?”

“Sure.  On my way.”  

She travelled down in the elevator imagining the doorman.  He’d be some old guy in a uniform with gold braid on the chest. He probably knew all the residents and their dogs by name and had one of those old timey extended families so that he could reach out to Cousin Ike for last minute birthday cakes or get his nephew’s wife to sew a costume at no notice.  She needed a fixer herself since her life seemed so broken.  She wondered what he could do for a lonely woman who was trying to work out if getting a cat was too much of an admission that she had given up.

As she stepped out into the lobby she was slightly taken aback by the mismatch between her expectations and reality.  He was behind the reception desk, dark head bowed over a laptop, no braid in evidence, no grey whiskers or paunch, just this dark, poetic looking guy in a black sweater.  She approached the desk and he looked up at her, fingers still flying over the keys without him needing to glance down.  He seemed to reach a natural pause, closed the lid of the laptop and smiled politely.  “Yes ma’am, how can I help?”  His eyes were blue.  They seemed to look through her probably thinking she was just another rich girl bringing him problems.  He must get that a lot.

“Yeah, hi, I’m a guest of Mr and Mrs Lodge Andrews up in the penthouse.  They’re having a little New Year's Eve party and they’re running low on liquor.  They wondered if you could source them a couple of cases of…”

“Patron Silver?  Yes ma’am, of course.  Who should I charge it to?”  She had no idea how he could have known what she was going to ask for.  It made her want to say that they wanted Stolichnaya or absinthe or something, just to surprise him but she’d been sent for Patron and Patron she would get.

“Oh, yes, I have a credit card.” She handed it over,  “and Mr Andrews said to give you this for the trouble.”  She passed him the fifty, embarrassed.

“No incentive to get it here before the coaches turn into pumpkins?” he asked, eyebrow raised.  She thought he was making fun of her but she couldn’t be sure.  

“Oh yes, that’s right.  Veronica said another $50 if it’s here by eleven thirty.”

“Okay ma’am.  I’ll buzz up when it’s here.  If that’s all.”

“Oh please don’t call me ma’am.  I’m Betty.”

“I’m Jones... Jughead. Nickname. Long dull story.” He raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering why she was still standing in front of his desk.

“Look, it’s a little crazy up there.  Would it be okay if I just stay down here for a minute? Just say if it’s inconvenient. I don’t want to disturb you if you’re busy.” She didn’t think she could bear to be the responsible adult at Veronica’s party for a moment longer. Here it was quiet and no one needed her to hold back their hair while they were getting sick.

“Busy getting hold of twelve bottles of good tequila on New Year's Eve but that’s all.  I just need to make a call.  Excuse me.”  He stood and walked away from the desk, his back turned to her.  It was a good back.  He was wearing the black sweater over grey slacks with a key chain hanging from one of his belt loops.  He had broad shoulders but his neck was fine, not thick and meaty like the guys who needed to lift weights to manufacture some self esteem. He was slim at the waist and the hips, long legs, tall.  The hair was the USP though, dark waves of it tumbling freely as he dragged long fingers through it, waiting for someone to pick up his call.  Finally he yelled “Hey Toni.  Yeah, two cases of Patron Silver asap.  Yeah, I’d noticed that but mark it up. Can Sweetpea drop it over?  Yeah right now.  Hey, ask him to get me a burger on the way too.”  He turned and looked at Betty with a questioning look and she shrugged and nodded, “Two, make it two.  Ok, thanks Toni.  Yeah you too.  See you Sunday.”

He ended the call and made his way back to the desk.  “My pal Toni runs a bar,” he explained with a grin. 

“Veronica says you’re magic, a wizard,” she told him.

“Nothing occult about it.  I’m just observant, that’s all.”

“Seems magical to produce a George Washington costume overnight,” she countered.  

“Oh well, that was a lucky break.  My sister’s a textile artist.  A struggling one.  I gave her the brief and she knocked up the costume in a few hours.  Now all the upper east side mommies have her business card and she can afford to buy materials and pay her rent.  She had to pull an all nighter but it paid off pretty big in the end.”

“Birthday cake?  Out of season flowers?” 

“The husband’s kind of a dick.  He forgot last year too. They had a fight about it in this very lobby so I wrote down the date and got ready to save his bacon.  If he’d remembered the date I’d have had cake for my breakfast and sent my sister a bunch of flowers.  As it was I made a couple hundred bucks.”

Betty was laughing now at the smug look on his face.  “So you could have reminded him beforehand?”

“Could have, but maybe the expense’ll help him remember next time.  Anyway if the doorman knows more about your wife than you do it might be time to review your priorities.”

“Ok but what about the Bible?  That seems pretty miraculous.”

“Actually it’s kind of the opposite. The kid’s confirmation name is Maria. Hardly original.  My buddy Joaquin’s little sister was confirmed a few months ago.  Her confirmation name’s Maria.  She hadn’t made a whole lot of use of the Bible.  Your pal paid me three hundred, Joaquin’s kid sister got two hundred in her college fund.”

“Seems like the side hustles are more remunerative than the pay check,” Betty observed.

“It’s all a side hustle.  I’m a writer.  This job’s kept me supplied with characters and plot lines and given me eight hours of mostly uninterrupted writing time.”

Betty flushed pink and jumped up from the corner of the desk where she had been leaning.  “Oh I’m so sorry. Here I am wasting your time.  I’ll be on my way.”

“No, wait,” he reached out and put his hand on her arm.  It tingled.  “I didn’t mean it like that.  This is research.  Maybe I’ll put you in my next book.  The sad girl in a party frock who’d rather be in the lobby than with her friends at a party being kissed for New Year.”

“There’s no-one to kiss up there,” she confessed with a sad smile and then, without having any idea why, she said “I broke up with my fiancé last February.”

“Aha,” he said.  “There’s the plot.  Tell me.”

“He’s great.  A really good guy.  Kind, loyal, handsome.  Everything I should have wanted. Any girl would be lucky to have him. I think I broke his heart.”

“Why?”

“We started to plan the wedding and I wanted to run away.  I couldn’t bear to think about it.  Then one day I found myself imagining what I’d do if something bad happened that prevented it, like if he got sick or if I was in a car accident or something.  It was pretty clear that I couldn’t go through with it if I preferred the idea of one of us being in a coma to the idea of my wedding day.”

“Cold feet?”

“Oh freezing but it wasn’t just nerves.  When I imagined being married to him I couldn’t see myself, I was just a blank. It was… I don’t know how to say it…like I was finished.  I’d never be anything more than I was, never change or grow or struggle.  It was all too easy.  No grit in the oyster.  I know it’s crazy.”

“You didn’t say it was you not him did you?  You didn’t do that to him?” He was smiling at her, sympathising not mocking.

She blushed.  “I did.  All the clichés.  How could I explain?  I don’t even understand it myself.”

“I understand it.  You want to find out who you can be and he couldn’t give you that.  He was happy with who you were, didn’t want you to change.  He was probably scared of losing you. Anyone would be.” He looked at her with an intensity that made her nervous so she tried to change the subject.  

“A writer then?  What do you write?”

“Mostly mystery stories.  Magazines and online so far but I’ve just got a publisher for the novel.  I’m going to quit this next year.  What do you do?”

“I’m a psychologist.  I work with kids who are in trouble.  Try to get them back on track.  I love it but it’s hard sometimes.  I hear things that it’s tough to leave at the office.”

“You need to take care of you first.  You can’t save someone if you aren’t safe yourself. ”

“Writer or life coach?” she smiled.

He chuckled.  “Sorry.  I’m not good at small talk.  I get too intense too fast and freak people out.  Oh hey, cometh the man, cometh the tequila.”  

A tall guy in a leather jacket was pulling boxes out of the back of a truck that he’d illegally bumped up the curb outside..  He looked a little scary.  Once he was in the lobby she saw that he had a snake tattooed on his neck.  He fist bumped Jughead and then pulled him into a side hug. “Hey man.  Happy new year and all that. Hey,” he said, noticing Betty for the first time. 

“Hey.  Thanks so much for bringing it over. There’s a whole apartment full of drunk idiots upstairs just waiting to make themselves sick on it. Oh!” He turned back to Betty, aghast at what he’d said. “Sorry Betty.”

“You’ll not get an argument from me.  That’s why I’m down here talking to you.”

Neck tattoo laughed and held out his hand “Sweetpea.  Pleasure doing business with you.”  He turned back to Jughead,  “So I have to get back, I’m supposed to be on the door at the Wyrm.  See you Sunday?”

“Burgers?” Jug reminded him and his friend nodded, trotting back to the truck to grab a take out bag and toss it back to Jughead who snatched it from the air like a dolphin snatching a fish at Seaworld.

Betty buzzed up to the penthouse to get one of the assembled jocks to come and collect two cases of tequila and bring down a bottle of Pol Roger and the promised fifty dollars. It was eleven twenty four.  Ten minutes later she was sitting on the reception desk eating a burger, washing it down with $200 champagne.  “This is the best New Year's Eve I’ve ever had,” she grinned, a little disinhibited by the bubbles.  

“Weren’t you engaged last year?”

“This is much better.  I was pretending last year.  Now I’m just being me.”

“I always find that works better.  The not pretending bit. Especially not with someone you can love.”

She certainly wasn’t pretending at eleven fifty nine when she reached out to him and he took her in his arms and kissed her softly as cheers and yells rang out from the parties all over the city and fireworks exploded high above the park, casting confetti of coloured lights across the marble lobby. 

As the kiss ended she looked up into his blue eyes, wondering if it was the champagne that was making her blurry and relaxed or if it was him.  She thought she’d have to keep on kissing him to know for sure.  He really was a fixer though.  Her heart felt lighter, hopeful.

He grinned.  “Spectacular as that was, this is probably the most surveilled lobby in the city.  Can we schedule the repeat for when I’m not actually on the clock?”  He gestured at the security cameras covering every inch of the space and she blushed to think that somewhere there was taped evidence of her trying to seduce the sexy doorman.

“Can I stay here and talk to you some more if I promise not to touch?”

“I wish you would.  I get off at six and I know a great diner for breakfast.  We can tell people our first date was breakfast.  They’ll be scandalised.” She couldn’t hold back at the mention of the first date, of them telling people about it, so she kissed him on the cheek before retreating back to the edge of the desk with her hands up.

They talked about her work, his writing, they compiled an ultimate New Year's Eve playlist and top tens of movies and books.  She found herself distracted by the fullness of his lips, the expressiveness of his face, the heaviness of the locks of hair that fell forward over his eyes only to be pushed back impatiently.  They agreed on almost nothing and that was exactly how she liked it.  When she crept up to the penthouse at five thirty to collect her coat and change her party shoes for snow boots, she was met with a scene of devastation.  Prostrate bodies sprawled on every flat surface.  The two cases of tequila sat unopened in the kitchen, clearly surplus to requirements by the time they had been manifested.  She picked her way through the carnage and found the coat closet where Archie had put her things when she’d arrived the night before.  Opening the door she noticed the cases of liquor stacked inside, three unopened boxes of Patron among them.  She realised that Jug wasn’t the only fixer in the building.  She made sure to lean over her sleeping friend to place a kiss on her forehead before she let herself out, locking the door behind her.

[killthe-illusionarydreams]

Chronic Emptiness

Fred x reader

After the war

Summary: Y/N having a depressive episode & Fred trying to help her through it. Basically me living vicariously through her. Soft moment.

Warning: Mentions of depression & plainly feeling like shit

——————

Y/N was exhausted. Not by her job or work, just mentally drained. This sort of thing happened sometimes. One moment she was okay, the next it all came crashing down on her & she’d feel pure hatred for the world she was living in. Fred had gotten used to it by now, he’d be the ever so caring boyfriend & try to help her through it however he could. Exept he really couldnt do much but reassure Y/N that he was there for her.

And of course Y/N appreciated him & all his efforts, she loved Fred more than life itself & everyone knew that. But sometimes she just needed space. Like today.

They were at a bar with George & Angelina and several other mates after their shifts had all ended from their various occupations. George & Fred at their joke shop, Angelia at the Ministry, Y/N at St Mungos.

Y/N never truly felt like she belonged, not growing up at home, not at Hogwarts, & certainly not in St Mungos where she was working as a nurse. Its not that she hated the job, more like it didn’t particularly cause her immediate joy. She just did it. She got on with it & did what she had to.

As her friends were dancing to the music Y/N leant into her boyfriends ear so he’d hear her say “Hey Fred I think I’m gonna head home early today, I’m tired.”

The man looked up at her, as if trying to read her thoughts “D’you want me to come with love?”

Y/N shook her head, declining the offer “No dont worry. I’ll go through the park, I need some fresh air anyway.” Fred nodded & bid her goodbye with a kiss, telling her to stay safe. “I’ll see you at home.”

It was already dark outside, the tall streetlamps being the main source of light for the woman, but she wasnt really paying attention to where she way going, not caring enough to look. Y/N got to the park near the flat where her & Fred lived, deciding to make a pitstop there she sat on one of the wooden benches that overlooked a small river.

Letting out a heavy sigh she put her head into the palms of her hands, it was feeling all too heavy lately. “Dear Merlin I’m so tired.” Mumbling, the woman rolled her head in her hands before sitting back up and gazing at the sky. Oh how beautiful it looked tonight.

Lighting up a cigarette, she put it to her lips & took a long inhale. She was supposed to be quitting smoking, Fred always got on her about continuing the habbit. In all honesty Y/N didnt care enough to stop, at this point she wasnt even sure if she still got the same boost of seratonin from smoking as she used to. But again, it didnt bother her.

“Fuck me why is life so draining?” She asked no one in particular, she knew why it was draining, the abundance of issues with her brain promptly being the answer. She just wished it were easier. Easier to deal with things.

Realistically Y/N had nothing to be unhappy about anymore, there was no war, she had a good life, an amazing boyfriend, a stable job, decent friends. But there was a permanent void in her heart that could never be filled. Ever since she was a child it stayed with her. Maybe her cold & harsh, unloving parents brought it on, or maybe how she didnt let herself feel love & would distance herself from anyone that ever got close to her. But it was there. Unmovable.

The woman let the smoke out from her mouth, sighing at why she was having another one of her episodes, feeling shitty about having said episode. Yet, there was nothing she could do to stop it from occuring. “Fuck off brain.” She mumbled to herself, cursing her biology & upbringing “Stop feeling so Shit.”

“I keep you alive you ungrateful idiot.” She huffed to herself “And I’m doing a pretty good job, so stop making me feel like its my fault.” It wasnt her fault. If it were, Y/N would know how to fix it & evidently stop feeing this way.

Some would say the war brought this Y/N on, but people knew that she was like this way before. However, before she was better at hiding it. Better at hiding the dark circles, the restlessness, the ‘I dont care what happens to me’ attitude. In all honesty it didnt bother Y/N that people knew she was like this, she didnt do it on purpose. And when she could- she’d be happy- the life of the party, in those instances she could hide her feelings. But sometimes they just got too overwhelming to bare.

“You’re being such a selfish prick.” She sighed and puffed on yet another cigarette “Go home Y/N. Go to the man who loves you.” Yet she made no motion to move. It’d probably been two hours since she left the bar, she wasnt keeping track of time, not feeling the need to.

Sometimes she thought that Fred didnt love her, not because he said something or did something, but because she thought that Fred puts up with her. Which wasn’t true, the man loved her to death, she made him feel alive. Y/N was a risk taker, an adventurer, someone that kept you on your toes- & he admired that about her. Y/N was smart & funny & the most gorgeous person Fred had ever seen, but he knew that behind her sarcasm & faux narcissistic comments, she didnt believe it. Oh what he’d give for the woman to see herself through his eyes.

A few more minutes passed & the woman got up with a sigh, throwing the butt of her cigarette down, she made her way home.

The door creaked open, a little too loudly for Y/N’s taste, she winced at the sound, hoping it wouldnt wake Fred.

“Where were you?” The light flicked on. Before her stood a dischevelled Fred, arms crossed “I got home and you werent here.”

“I was in the park.” She mumbled, taking her coat off “Lost track of time, sorry.”

Fred looked at the woman before him, he noticed the dark circles that she tried to cover prefousley with makeup, noticed the ash on her jacket and faint aroma of smoke mixed with sadness.

“Its fine.” He reassured her and went to hug her, pretending to not notice her cold body & how she stiffened when he touched her “Just let me know next time alright?”

The woman hummed in agreement and walked into the living room, as she sat on the couch she put the tv on to play some sort of muggle program but not really paying attention to it. She just didnt fancy Fred interrogating her about her feelings. She hated talking about them, normally just botteling them up. Maybe that was the cause of her unhappiness.

A few moments went by & she thought Fred had went to bed, but then she felt the couch sink next to her. “Here” he placed a blanket around her & handed her a hot mug of tea “You’re freezing.” Mumbling a thanks she sipped on her drink, not really feeling like talking she waited for him to say something, anything.

And he did “Is it getting bad again?” Oh. Was it? Probably. Most definitely.

“I’m fine.” She lied “I’ll be fine.” Y/N wasnt convincing anyone.

Fred watched her, not knowing what to say or do. He wished he could help, just magically cheer up the love of his life. But thats not how life worked. “You’re good enough.” He blurted out “You deserve to feel happy.”

Y/N didnt look up at him, she knew Fred was trying to help. But was he? I dont know.

“Do I though, do I really?” She finally asked with a sigh, those seemed to be coming from her a lot lately “Because I know I do, I just dont feel it coming to me and its so draining to get on with life when you feel worthless.”

Fred took in what she just said, pausing before trying to come up with a reasonable response “I know.” He sighed “I want to help you Y/N, what can I do?” What could he do though? Realistically?

“I dont know. Nothing. This’ll pass soon enough and I’ll be okay.”

Fred knew that, Y/N was always ‘okay’ or ‘fine’ or ‘just tired’ “But I want you to be better than okay. I want you to be happy, to enjoy life and all its moments.”

Y/N scoffed “And you think I dont want that?” There was a tense silence

“Why dont we take the day off tomorrow and go out somewhere? We havent done that in a while.” Fred suggested. It was true, with both of them being bombarded by work they hardly saw eachother in the last few months.

“Sure.” Y/N smiled sickly and set her tea down “Yeah alright I’ll just sack my job off to have a fun little date with you eh? Why not risk getting fired just because I’m feeling a little moody huh?”

Fred was taken aback by her words and immediately went back on what he said “If you dont want to thats fine I-“

“Im sorry” she cut him off “I’m sorry, that was a dick move I didnt mean it, just everythings gotten so much-“ she put her feet up on the couch to hug them “Im sorry.” A few stray tears fell onto her knees

Fred moved closer to her “Hey, its okay, its okay dont worry. I understand.” Oh sweet understanding Fred, Fred who gave you unconditional love and support. Fred who you keep snapping at.

Moments pass as he embraces you, your body leaning against his heavily. Not sure whether its the exhaustion or something else “I dont deserve you.” You mumble into his chest. He frowns cups your face in his hands, you lean in to his warm touch.

“Dont say that” you let out a quiet sob “Y/N you deserve the absolute world, and I wish I could give it to you & more. If I could take away your pain, I would. In an instant I would. You dont deserve to feel like this, to think like this. But I’m here for you okay. I love you, so fucking much you don’t understand.” He gazed into her eyes, wishing she could feel how much he meant it “You’re the best thing that happened to me & I’m going to prove it to you, whatever it takes Y/N.” He kissed your nose before letting you hug him tighter, relieved that you no longer shrunk away from his touch “Words cant express how much I love you.”

After a few more tears fall, Y/N laughs into his chest “Good because you’re stuck with me.”

Fred grins to himself “I wouldnt have it any other way.”