#and he wasn't the one who initiated and he seemed confused the whole time

[dirkxcaliborn]

I'd have to say one of the cutest, novel moments in a romance manga I read recently was when one of the characters noticed the other's behavior and thought it seemed like the other character had feelings for him, but then he told himself off for making assumptions about other people's feelings lol

[lzaisv]

WRIOTHESLEY . NIGHT SHIFT

sypnosis; being clumsy isn't easy. doing a poor performance due to how you lack skill at work only leads to you earning less credit coupons, which is a result of your week only having one day off. wriothesley, who adores you so much, offers to help you earn credit coupons.

afab!reader

NSFW UNDER THE CUT ; MINORS DNI !

Wriothesley who adores you so much.

Ever since he first saw you in the infirmary, sitting all alone and a bruise on your wrist, you caught his attention right away.

He thought that Sigewinne might've been getting supplies for your wound, and you seemed rather lonely so he approached you and asked about your wound.

When he talked to you, it came to his surprise that your clumsiness got you accidentally tripping and your wrist hit on one of those super sharp areas of a nearby pipe. You explained to him how you couldn't really earn credit coupons that well since you were not used to this environment, and you told him how you were basically really clumsy, too, you were really nervous talking to him back then since you've heard a lot about how he was a cold and mysterious man, but somehow, he managed to change the way you perceive him. 

Now, you saw him as a caring man that had a strong sense of responsibility, welcoming rather, too. He radiated an aura that let you feel safe and comforted by him. The light jokes and sarcasm he had made you feel better.

Since that day from the infirmary, Wriothesley notes to himself about your schedule and he always tries to be there to see you. Initiating small talk that allowed you two to be closer. And everyday, he would see you working hard on your task, only skipping work at least once every week. So when Wriothesley figured out that you struggled earning credit coupons, he proposed a way to let you earn more coupons. He suggested that you could help him out with something in his office, and you'd earn credit coupons in return. 

You were honestly tired from working almost everyday a week, so you agreed. You needed those credit coupons.

So the following day, you went to his office at the exact time he instructed you to come. It was rather late at night, and most of the inmates were asleep already. You thought the task he had stored for you was things he doesn't have time for like cleaning his office, organizing paperworks neatly, just those stuff.

But you were wrong.

Somehow, you're here with your chest facing down on his desk, your hands handcuffed behind you, a mirror infront of you, and your pussy being wrecked from behind by his grace.

“ah ─! shit.. tighter than expected.” wriothesley groaned from behind, his cock slowly entering your intimate area, your eyes shutting tight from the stinging pain of him slowly entering you. He was hung, after all. He only entered half of his length inside you, but you couldn't help but tear up. “it hurts, your grace.” you whimpered, you don't know how much you could take, he wasn't even fully inside yet. 

“i'm sure you could take it all, fuuuuck, your pretty pussy's clenching down on me.” he scoffed, his hands placed down on your waist, tracing your curves with his thumb. “It's like it doesn't wanna let go of me.” Wriothesley had a sly grin on his face, trying to keep his cool and not just enter you in one go. He was trying his best not to lose his self control. 

But once he's fully entered you, now this is a whole different level.

Once he was fully inside you, wriothesley seriously could not stop himself anymore. “'m sorry, princess. I'll give you extra coupons for this.” he warned you, and that got you confused, “h-huh? Wha ─!” your eyes widened, a gasp coming out of your mouth as he started ramming his cock inside your cunt with no stopping. He moved quickly, and still managed to reach the deepest parts of your area that you never thought would be possible to reach.

Your head fell on his desk, tears forming from your lower lash line, and your fists clenching as you tried to protest, but you couldn't. Only whines and moans came out of your mouth, and you were going dumb so fast. 

“fucking─ ngh, gorgeous.” he mumbled in between his low moans. He just adored you. Ever since you stepped foot in the fortress of meropide, that was the first time he was thankful a person even committed a crime. He couldn't stop looking at you, visiting the cafeteria almost everyday just to sit right next to you and ask you about your day. He loved listening to you ramble on about your day, and whenever you mentioned how tiring the jobs were, he would speak with the guards who were there to supervise you with your task to lessen the work for you so you wouldn't have to be so worn out everyday. 

These little gestures of affection were his way of saying he wanted you. And to have you here on his desk, all being fucked dumb, he couldn't be even more thankful to the archons above.

“you don't know how long I fucking waited for this.” he whispered in your ear, yet his sharp thrusts where uninterrupted. Although, he was aware you couldn't even think as of now and just went dumb on him so easily. “going dumb already on me, angel? How cute.” he praised you, placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“'m gonna ─! 'm gonna cum, wrio ─ !!” a high pitched moan came out of you from your nonsense babbles and whimpers. Pleasure was overtaking your brain, all your senses going stupid. 

“hnghhh, go on, milk my cock.” he insisted, his movement becoming sloppier, and he could tell that he himself was close too. He was aware he shouldn't cum inside you, with the possibility of even knocking you up, he could ruin your life. 

“inside, please.” you whined at him, turning your head back on him, drowsy eyes looking at him, begging for him to cum inside you, and who was he to refuse such an offer? That was enough to push him to the edge, and after one last thrust, he spilled his load inside you as you orgasmed, filling you up to the brim, causing your eyes to roll back to your skull.

Immense pleasure washed on your brain, seeing stars, and it felt like a warm embrace, enveloping you with a sense of contentment.

Wriothesley pulled out after cumming inside you, seeing his cum overflow from your sweet pussy, he couldn't help but use his fingers to stop his load from coming out of you, he just adored you. 

“aren't you just the cutest? as promised, I'll give you 5,000 credit coupons for this.”

© lzaisv . do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work.

[throwawayhero]

could you give more hcs or a drabble about bakugou with a crush on reader!! pls i feel like ur fics are the closest ive seen to canon... i need more

No problem, and thanks! I try to make them seem canon, but sometimes it's difficult T-T. Just realising now that a few of these sound stalker-y and I'm sorta regretting writing this but oh well. I hope this is satisfactory!! c/w; social media au, buzzfeed, eminem (idek), karaoke, not proof read

!Katsuki who unintentionally catches himself playing with his hair while talking to you. Not in an obvious way (that's what he thinks at least), but more so absentmindedly fiddling with his side burns and such. It's kinda funny when he accidentally curls them and leaves them like that for a while. He also has a habit of playing with his baby hairs on the back of his neck.

!Katsuki who "accidentally" managed to copy your handwriting style down stroke for stroke? He doesn't really know how it happened, to be honest. He just noticed it one day during a group project after Jirou pointed it out to the two of you. You found it funny, but he found it outrageous and claimed that you had been the one to copy his handwriting.

!Katsuki who allowed you to tag along on one of Kirishima's and his study sessions. He beat the shit out of Eijirou and was gentle with you, more or less. He wouldn't hit you of course, but he certainly wasn't scared to yell. At least the first time. The look you gave him made him writhe with guilt, so he shut the fuck up out of embarrassment.

!Katsuki who heard you talking about a band you loved and decided it was his god given right to go through their whole discography and criticise it in his own time. But turns out, you have good taste, so he keeps to himself about it. "Accidentally" bought a spare ticket to their next concert and offered the spot to you. No big deal, right?

!Katsuki who did extensive searching for your socials, scrolling through his friends friends following, mutuals, and genuinely just word of mouth. When he did find your accounts, he stalked the SHIT out of them. When you requested to follow him, he freaked out and accepted straight away. He didn't follow you back until a week later, "just to be safe".

!Katsuki who unironically took one of those "Do I have a crush on my friend?" quizzes when he started to feel things towards you. 100% went down a rabbit hole on buzzfeed. He wanted to call his "crush" ANYTHING other than what it was. Mentioned it to Kirishima once and was left even ore confused than what he had originally been.

Unrelated but he just looks like he would listen to Eminem. Probably gets a good chuckle out of the whole "You gonna cancel me, yeah? Gen Z me brah?!" thing. Don't ask me to explain why I think this, it just makes sense.

!Katsuki who more often than not is watching you out of the corner of his eye. Not in an overly-creepy way, he's just "aware of his surroundings". He says that to anyone that mentions it, which is literally just his paranoia.

!Katsuki who secretly loved the fact that you hung out with him and his friends almost daily. Because then he wouldn't have to initiate hangouts and look as desperate as he really was. It gave him a plausible excuse to absorb every single opinion you uttered. It gave him an excuse to get even closer to you.

!Katsuki who freaked the FUCK out when everyone (besides the two of you) got sick and couldn't do the bi-weekly hangout everyone had played a part in organising. The group had settled on doing karaoke, so you can imagine how it went down with just the two of you there. Although, the two of you did make an amazing duet. (No one was really sick, Mina just mentioned Katsuki's behaviour and put 2 and 2 together. She also wanted to see if he would take initiative for once.)

!Katsuki who went out of his way to make changes to his hero costume that he knew you would like. Small details here and there, for both style and practicality. While it was cold he would use the neck warmer to hide the smirk that creeped onto his face when he saw you checking out his new look. He also started to make himself look nicer in general, indulging in a bit of jewellery (stud earrings, a ring or two, and a silver necklace), nicer shoes, wearing the uniform properly and such.

!Katsuki who has your number pinned in his contacts, as well as giving you your own message & ring tone sound. He has everyone but you, Kirishima, and his parents on silenced. He also has your contact saved as a nickname he assigned you without you knowing with a heart emoji. It's simple, but endearing.

[nqmonarch]

HUGE QUESTION/IDEA about Self Aware HSR

Characters: Misha, Gallagher, Tingyun, a small bit on Blade at the end

Huge spoilers for 2.2 and before

So how does Self Aware HSR with the characters that are no longer with us work? Are they still self aware?

Guys, I need you to think about how horrifying this is.

As I realized in a previous post HSR has Aeons but they also believe in Gods in some cultures, which would presumably be more powerful than Aeon and having more control over individual's lives than an Aeon. The biggest difference I think would be possible is a God being tied to the idea of an afterlife.

So imagine Tingyun was already blacking out whenever Phantylia possessed her body and she was left in a dark void. That was until you turned on HSR, after that she began to spectate the game much like a player. And then when Phantylia left her body and she returned to it she went back with unsettling knowledge and confusion.

It's not until she completely dies that she understands it. Honkai Star Rail is a video game and she is just a character in it. When the game is off she's subjected to days and weeks of complete darkness and silence (because time passes faster in the HSR universe, they have like day and night faster) when in reality it's only hours.

When the game is on she's finally greeted by the warmth again, she can watch fellow companions fight and although she's confused by your motives she knows you're trying to help. You helped Trailblazer prepare a memorial for her, and she watches as the Astral Express ventures into Penacony and faces foe after foe.

More than that, she can see you as you tear up over a character's story. She can hear your voice making jokes at the funny little references in the Trailblazer's words, references which she doesn't understand. And when Misha and Gallagher seem to die, Tingyun isn't the only one who's crying.

But Misha and Gallagher join her. They wake up while you're still playing the game and watch as you fulfill their goals. They see tears fall down your cheeks, and hear you as you cheer on the Astral Express and empathize with Sunday although never fully support him.

Then rather than turning the game off and subjecting them to darkness you go and do your weekly simulated universe, an affair Tingyun is quite used to at this point. She takes the time to explain the situation to Gallagher and Misha.

It's a bit harder for Misha to take than Gallagher, after all "Gallagher" had never been real he was always a character. But now in a sense he was. Gallagher would always exist, after all he was part of the game. When you turn the game off and the world goes dark, Tingyun is pleasantly surprised by the fact she isn't alone.

Those times of loneliness had passed. It's still scary, she's unable to see Gallagher or Misha or even herself, at times the void is all consuming even in sound and she can't hear them. But they're there, and that makes the whole ordeal less frightening.

They aren't sure what to make of you, the player. Yes you play the game, but to keep them here are you something like a God? They learn that in your world you are just an ordinary person but in their world you would be a God. The power you held over them, you spent making them stronger and providing them a sanctuary for once they died. You will a merciful God, indeed.

They found as they explored the void it wasn't much of a void at all. The character's, light cones, consumables, and relics you weren't using were hidden away in corners of the voids. Gallagher took some of the drinks you'd been keeping and the three of them took a celebratory toast.

When they'd initially come across the characters you weren't using it'd been terrifying. They stood eerily still, standing there, akin to robots. Tingyun noticed there was one that looked like her, she was sure you'd used it in combat. There was one for all of them, even the Trailblazer.

Tingyun, before Phantylia had taken her over completely, did notice suddenly getting faster but to think it was because of relics and a light cone you'd given a robot of her? It seemed to an extent properties were shared between them.

They were able to make a home based off of the items in your inventory, home was a strong word considering it was just a place to stay when you were offline. It was much better when you were playing the game, but they understood it wasn't like it was the only thing you could do. It was just a game.

Misha was the first one who suggested it. The idea of going to your world. It was just a game, they couldn't confine you to it, and even if you managed to travel inside of the game they were all dead anyway. Misha was excited at the idea, despite having all of the memories of Mikhail back he had never really gone on a trailblazing adventure himself.

Gallagher was the most skeptical of the three, wondering if they'd ever be able to exist in your world. But the fact they had consciousness despite being in a game, meant that maybe there was more to this than they thought.

At times they would wish to be by your side not just for their own selfish desires but to comfort you. When they first saw you cry, not for their sake, but for your own life it became a bit hectic. Misha was trying to yell against the sky for you to hear his voice. Gallagher accepted trying to get to your world and was trying to communicate to you through the inventory. And Tingyun was synthesizing consumables with the ingredients you had as if she was someone making food for a crying loved one.

There was very little they could do.

In a brief moment of exasperation, for their inability to talk to you, Gallagher mentioned that he wished a genius would die next so that way they could figure out how to travel to you. But for now, they had to work with what they have.

Another thing, this AU, compared to a Self Aware AU where they can still live their lives I feel as a higher potential of generating Yanderes. I'm not going to write them as that but it's just something I'm realizing because, they're basically completely alone aside from you, you bring light, you bring happiness, it would likely cause an unhealthy relationship.

Counter idea, what if characters that died are the only self aware ones? Hmmmm

Also imagine if characters that died but didn't really die like Blade and Firefly weren't able to make it to this afterlife but they could still feel your presence. Even death in the dreamscape allows them to feel your presence although only for a moment.

I feel like Blade especially would cling onto your presence, since for a brief moment he feels no pain, he doesn't feel mara struck, and-- to an extent he hates it but he feels like Yingxing. He can hear your voice from time to time, a reminder of the relief of pain, and when he met Trailblazer something about them reminded him of you. He wasn't sure what.

Note: I haven't even finished 2.2 but I got to the part where Misha and Gallgher seem to go bye-bye maybe they actually don't and pull a surprise bitch but I'm guessing they do. So I wrote this because I was thinking (bad idea I know)

Also Tingyun's death isn't 100% confirmed it's implied but I'm just assuming she's dead in this.

I swear this is one of my most cracked ideas yet

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

i couldn't stand you - m. bunting

summary: (slow burn enemies to frenemies to friends etc / f!reader x mb) three years: arguments, truces, break-ups, moving houses...michael bunting wasn't nearly as irritating as you'd initially expected.

warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, reader is a pens fan, scenes with eating involved, reader is a chef, I PROMISE THE WRITING GETS BETTER THE MORE YOU READ (toronto to carolina sequence my fave <3), sid being an obliviously adorable cockblocker, angst/pining, fluff, the ending is so unfinished and doesn't do the 20k justice at all...(i lost inspiration)(but i might edit it in the future/do an alternate ending)

a/n: i got inspiration from this from that tom welling hug in cheaper by the dozen

In all honesty, you hadn’t really been paying much attention to Ellis, which kind of defeated the entire purpose of even stepping into the bar. Taylor had wanted you to meet her new boyfriend, and it had barely taken all of five minutes of being in his presence to deduce that he was not only a nice guy, but clearly liked her a lot, was funny, the whole works, etc, etc. Only, your attention had been (completely against your will) stolen by the…idiot sitting next to you.

You didn’t really know what else to call him. An impatient dick? That was also fitting. A bad driver? There wasn’t a 100% certainty in that statement, but it felt fitting given the incident from earlier that morning.

Nevertheless, when you’d clocked each other, the only empty space being that on the bench right next to him, there was no doubt he recognised you too. He’d rolled his eyes and scoffed into his beer, and you’d sat down rather aggressively and dropped your bag on the floor, downright refusing to look at him.

Hence, the intervening from Ellis, with his polite smile and countenance, a complete contrast to aforementioned impatient dick sitting on your left. Taylor had raised a brow, a silent question on her face but you’d simply shaken your head and accepted the cocktail she’d already ordered with a grateful smile.

“I’m confused.” Ellis muttered, leaning his head on one hand, eyes darting confusedly between you and Michael Bunting, Maple Leafs player apparently, “Do you two know each other?”

You shook your head, sipping your cocktail. Judging from the silence next to you, Micheal had done the same thing, neither of you too eager to explain anything. It wouldn’t have been a big deal. In fact, if the subject hadn't been poked and prodded further, you’d have probably been fine with it, maybe even accepted the fact that you were going to have to spend however many hours with him for the sake of your friends. 

Who knew? Maybe you’d have eventually gotten past this pre-established dislike for one another, but Taylor was never really one for ignoring gossip when it was sitting in front of her – a trait that you rather found entertaining until you were the victim.

“What, so it’s dislike at first sight, or something?” She asked, eyeing the two of you with more intrigue than you were comfortable with.

In fact, her eyes seemed to shimmer like a greedy shark when you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, briefly glancing at the man on your left.

He was rolling his eyes. And you didn’t care to even guess if it was at you or if it was at Taylor, but with the morning you’d had – because of him – you turned back to her with more conviction this time.

“Pretty much, yeah.” You shrugged.

Taylor scoffed in disbelief, sharing a look with Ellis, “Why?”

“Because she’s a shit driver.” 

You gaped, head snapping to Michael with appal. He was frowning in a way that just exuded arrogance. He actually thought he was right – the nerve.

“I am not–”

“Oh, yes you are.”

“The traffic in front of me was at a complete standstill, what was I supposed to do–”

“They were moving–”

“Oh, please. You were just in a rush because someone clearly forgot to set an alarm this morning–”

“I was not in a rush–”

“Then what was the reason for honking at me?”

“You flipped me a birdie!”

“You honked for no reason – who even does that?”

“You flipped me a fucking birdie!”

“After you honked!”

“You were too slow, you weren’t even looking at the road.”

“Yeah, because God forbid I skip a song in a traffic jam.”

He scowled, but said nothing else, sharing a rather irritated glance with Ellis across from him.

You, however, were a little different: sure, your jaw was ticking, your pulse was higher than usual from his stress-inducing attitude, but the first thing you did was share a wide-eyed glance with Taylor, whose jaw had dropped. You rarely fought with people, let alone in public spaces. In fact, the last time you’d bickered like that was when you and Taylor were little and arguing over who got to marry which celebrity from the magazine in make-believe play – but that was exactly all it had been: make-believe.

This was real life, and when you argue like that in real life, people tend to stare. You could feel strangers’ eyes boring into the side of your face and your cheeks flamed against your will. Add that onto the fact that Ellis – who you’d never met before, and were intent on setting a good first impression – had just witnessed you argue with his best friend? You were nothing short of mortified.

“Right.” Ellis sighed, scratching the back of his head, and all three pairs of remaining eyes sitting at the table zipped to him for some form of guidance as to what to do next, “So, now that everyone’s introduced…another round?”

There were muted expressions of agreements, and even just looking at Taylor, you could tell that she was about to slip out and join Ellis at the bar, even after your pleading.

You watched her go sadly, your hands tucked under your thighs, trying desperately to ignore the other presence. You weren’t sure how you’d feel even looking at him – didn’t know if you could. Not only for the embarrassment, but for the sheer…eugh of having to look at him.

Blue eyes, brown hair – not too dark. Apart from that, your mind was drawing a blank.

He cleared his throat. You ignored it.

“What’re your first thoughts on Ellis for Taylor, then?” He mumbled, half-heartedly trying to engage in conversation, and it was because you knew he was only doing it to try and ease some of the tension for Ellis that you turned to face him.

The flare of irritation that presented itself felt like an allergic reaction to simply looking at him, but you swallowed, trying to paste on a nonchalant expression. You could do this. You just had to stare at the blank spot on the wood just a little bit off from his face.

Only, he seemed to take your lack of expression and interest as something else, because he tilted his head towards you fractionally, a rather condescending look on his face. 

“Your instincts?” 

Instincts? You had instincts – not necessarily about Ellis and what it was Michael was asking about, but you had them. And maybe it was the patronising glare, maybe it was the day’s frustration, maybe you were just tired and needed someone to take it out on, but you ignored his context for the question.

“My instincts?” You repeated, and he nodded, eyes squinting slightly, “That you’re full of shit.”

***

Usually you’d have no issue avoiding Michael when both of your presences were dubbed mandatory to these kinds of things: there was space, there were people – no reason to talk or even look in each other’s directions.

Only, this time, Ellis’s birthday party, somehow the invitation had been extended to you and the get-together was small. Intimate. Maybe seven people in total, not including Ellis himself. And because Ellis was Ellis, a party meant drunk games – and if not drunk, certainly alcohol-induced.

And to your bitter astonishment, the only two people left without split-second partners for a rough game of charades was…you and Michael. In theory, it shouldn’t have been much of a shock: it was inevitable for Ellis and Taylor to pair up together, and you were Taylor’s plus one (even though Ellis had told you himself he wanted you there), and it had become increasingly obvious throughout the evening that Michael didn’t know anyone but Ellis and Taylor; everyone else seemed to have gone to school together and jumped into pairs pretty quickly.

Needless to say, when you’d looked around the room and locked eyes with an equally disgruntled Michael, the two of you hadn’t broken eye contact as you’d downed whatever was remaining in your glasses and immediately reached for a refill.

Yet, for all your displeasure in the pairing, there was an odd satisfaction in knowing that you’d both absolutely thrashed the living daylights out of everyone else. It scratched a competitive itch inside of you, and against your will, you felt yourself softening up to him. His grin had become less irritatingly smug when he was directing it at you after a speedy guess, and his failure to hide his equally competitive edge through the half-smirks directed at his lap when other couples failed were more endearing than grating.

(You just blamed the alcohol.)

Although, probably just as shocking as that turn of events, Taylor and Ellis were awful at charades. They’d gotten one word right in the allotted time, and although they’d tried to hide it, no one was completely ignorant to their harsh whisperings to each other and pointed gestures. Or the confused glances they seemed to direct straight towards you and Michael, who, unlike everyone else, were sitting side by side on the carpet, a sizable distance between each other and managing to neither look or speak apart from when it was your turn.

It was remarkable, really, that two strangers could guess each other’s frantic motions easier than people who knew each other in arguably the most intimate ways. It felt like a test of compatibility, and Ellis and Taylor knew they were failing – hence, in your head, said compatibility test was clearly false. Michael was living, breathing proof of that.

“And Team We Don’t Care Just Pick Whatever wins.” Taylor announced, glancing direly at the small scrap of paper that she’d been documenting the scores on, “Ten points clear from the runners-up.”

You raised your brows, sighing despondently at your glass because you weren’t quite sure you could look Taylor in the eye without feeling some form of inexplicable guilt. You, however, wanted to savour this moment of triumph.

And what better way to celebrate than to pour yourself another glass?

The kitchen was quiet, dirty dishes stacked near and in the sink, along with a plethora of glasses and bottles from where people had decided to mix their drinks. It was quieter and cooler, too: a place to rest and breathe for a second. Only, as soon as the first sip touched your mouth, you had to stifle a yawn, your eyes suddenly dry and heavy. 

Half past twelve.

“You leavin’?” 

You turned your head to see Michael standing in the doorway, clearly having just come back from the bathroom and with a rather blank look on his face. At your attention, however, he seemed to force his mouth into a slither of a smile, looking mightily uncomfortable under your gaze.

His eyes quickly dropped, momentarily drifting to your glass, a little hesitantly.

“Might do. You?”

You almost wanted to wince at the awkwardness emanating in the atmosphere. It must be the first time you’d ever willingly engaged in a conversation with each other – let alone by yourselves. The silence in the room seemed to intensify that realisation that there was no Taylor or Ellis to act as a buffer, but Michael looked remarkably calm and unbothered by that knowledge. In fact, at your question he raised his brows as though shocked you’d reciprocated the conversation and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired.”

There was nothing particularly to say to that, so you just nodded, standing by the counter. He looked as if he wanted to say something: his hands were tapping against his jean-clad thighs and he kept glancing at you and then away, something playing on his features.

“You okay?” You found yourself asking, much to his surprise.

“Yeah, I just…” He stepped closer, throwing a careful glance back towards the open door, “Has Taylor talked to you about me?”

You blinked, tilting your head.

She had, many times on many different occasions and with a variety of different tones. Just off the top of your head you could list that time you’d gone over to hers for a movie night and she’d softly suggested that you try to get along with him; that one time she’d caught you pulling a rather put-off facial expression after he’d said something questionable; that one time she must have been a second away from grabbing you by the shoulders; eventually she’d given up, but that was after the basketball incident when you’d thrown the ball a little too harshly at him and winded him in the park. 

The ignoring each other thing worked – so why did you find yourself beginning to tolerate his presence? After all this time, surely, nothing would change so suddenly?

“Yeah.” You admitted, rather guiltily. In your defence, you’d tried to get along with him, but there was something about your personalities that clashed in the wrongest of ways. Both Taylor and Ellis had openly observed the two of you were pretty similar (you were a little offended by that statement) and would probably get along if you both put your pride aside, “Has Ellis…” You trailed off, watching him carefully.

He nodded, “Oh, yeah. He’s made a few bold statements about it, I’ll say that.” He huffed a bitter laugh, “But I was thinking–”

You pulled a face and he looked about ready to stop talking altogether, until he sighed, “Maybe we should just call a truce, or something? A fresh start, if not for us, for them. They seem pretty stable and if they’re for the long-term, then I think it’d be easier if we just agreed to get along, or at least pretend.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was because tonight you’d found him a lot more tolerable than you usually would, but you nodded. And to that, he just blinked.

“Really?” He asked, almost recoiling in reaction.

“Yeah.” You shrugged, “Under one condition though.”

His face dropped – the almost triumphant smile that he’d nearly allowed himself to display had vanished completely in replacement for something harsher, more annoyed. His jaw had clenched and the hand he’d placed on the counter seemed to tap with more aggravation as he rolled his eyes in resignation, “And what would that be?” He asked, sounding rather like he already had an idea as to what it was.

“Just admit I’m not a bad driver.” You reasoned.

“Oh, I thought you were gonna…Nevermind.” He shook his head, holding his hand out for you to shake, “You’re not a bad driver.”

“Thanks.” Then, “Are you Michael or do you have any nicknames instead?”

There was a brief pause, and he looked at you like you were an alien, “Why?”

“I don’t know, Michael – you don’t look like a ‘Michael’, that’s all.”

“And what does a ‘Michael’ look like?”

“Probably twenty-thirty years older, balding–”

“Wow.”

“Is that a no?”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, “Purely because you don’t like it, no, I don’t have any nicknames. I’d rather you called me Michael.”

“Nice one. But when we’re in a public space and I yell your name, there’s gonna be at least three older, balding guys turning to look at me–”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Well, one of us has to be.”

Neither of you seemed to remember you were still holding hands.

***

One thing you never thought you’d be doing in your near future, was packing all of your makeup and three outfit choices and driving to Ellis’s place to have a conversation with Taylor. To be honest, there was a small part of you that was a little bit aggravated that to talk to your best friend you had to drive twenty minutes and risk missing packing something for the date you needed help with, especially seeing as though said date was in forty-five minutes.

Although, you did have time to reason with yourself in the car, the usual stuff: she could have just said no to helping you when you called her in a frustrated panic; the last-minute pep talk was probably going to make up for any residual irritation; on the bright side, though, at least Ellis’s apartment was closer to the date location than your own. 

You knew you’d feel better once you got there – only…

“You have got to be kidding me.” You breathed a solemn laugh, head lolling backwards and cheeks flaming at the sight before you.

Michael Bunting standing in the doorway with a wicked grin on his face, each pore practically oozing mirth at your current situation, eating an apple. And sure, you’d agreed to get along for the sake of your friends, but you had no idea that would mean him being privy to your moments – nor did it mean you were particularly pleased to see him at such a dire time.

“Hello, sweetheart. Heard you were stuck?” He tilted his head, pouting in your direction, and you didn’t miss the way his attention zipped curiously to the backpack over your shoulder and the garment bags slung over your arm.

“Do you really not have anything better to do on a Friday night other than third-wheel your best friend and his girlfriend?” You asked, smiling flatly and walking through the door when he opened it further.

He shook his head, crunching a bite, and you stood in the hallway, patience ticking away by the second as you waited for him to finish eating to speak. There were voices drifting down the corridor, and you turned your head to see shadows and flickers of light in the other room, Taylor clearly on her way – thank fuck.

“I have a game tomorrow, gotta have a tame night.” He muttered, reaching out a hand to touch the soft plastic covering of your garment bag, “And I’ll tell you one thing, I am so glad I get to witness this.”

You pulled a face, “Ha ha.”

“I can already tell you’re gonna make my fucking night, so I’m gonna just thank you in advance–”

“Hey, stop psyching her out.” Taylor appeared, a crease between her brows that clearly hadn’t materialised at his words alone, and for a split-second, you and Michael shared a worried glance, any previous teasing evaporating along with it.

He nodded easily, holding his hands up in surrender and disappearing into the living room, his footsteps slow and leisurely as though he was hoping to overhear a snippet more, but before you could even spit out a greeting of your own, Taylor had dragged you into Ellis’s bedroom and locked the door – the man himself nowhere to be seen.

“Is everything okay?”

Taylor spun on her heel, flashing you an urgent glance, apparently brushing off your question of concern, “I should be asking you that.”

“Oh, I’m fine–”

She shot you a look of disbelief.

“Just nervous, I guess. And I can’t decide what to wear, so I brought some stuff.”

In the other room, Michael was sitting on the sofa, apple half-eaten and trying to ignore the rather violent knee shaking Ellis was doing by tuning into the faint sound of voices from the bedroom that could still be heard over the TV. He knew he should probably be focused on his best friend – who was anything but subtle in trying to convey the fact that he was clearly irked by something – but he also knew that Ellis would talk when Ellis wanted to talk.

He was also kind of curious as to what had gotten you in such a pickle: he knew you were about to go on a date (first, he assumed), but why the sudden panic? You’d turned up armed with a Hannah Montana-type level of hair, costumes and makeup stuff and he’d just eyed it all a little bit confused. 

He was very aware of the fact that you were pretty – he’d seen you with the barest amount of makeup on (he assumed, he actually had no idea if you did) and in a pair of sweats, and his opinion hadn’t changed, so why all the makeup? Surely, if someone was to like you in that sense you shouldn’t have to dress up and put loads of makeup on?

He wasn’t too sure, really. His extent of first dates was restricted to his high school experience and he’d only been on a few since. 

“Why the panic?” He found himself asking aloud, turning to Ellis like he’d hold the answers in the universe. 

Ellis, however, turned to face him, a scowl already on his face, and it didn’t take a genius to gather that he wasn’t going to get much out of him with the mood he was in.

“What?”

“The girls.”

Ellis shrugged, turning his attention back to the TV, “Why would I know?”

Michael pressed his lips together tightly, trying to ignore the answers popping up in his head. Why wouldn’t Ellis know? He’d been talking to Taylor when you texted so if anything it’d be weird for Ellis to not know what was going on.

In fact, the longer he spent in Ellis’s presence, the more uncomfortable Michael felt. He shifted in his seat, the tense and awkward atmosphere feeling oddly claustrophobic and he felt the sudden desire to get out of the room, even if it was to fake a visit to the kitchen or something. 

He pushed himself off the sofa, the apple core in his hand sticky and by the time he’d stood in there and looked out of the window, washed his hands and decided he was going to leave anyway, there was a voice in the hallway.

“-look stunning, I promise.”

There seemed to be a muttered reply, but before he could make his way towards the door and announce his departure, there was a call of his name.

“Bunting–”

“No, don’t.”

He looked right down the hallway, Taylor leaning against the wall. Taylor wasn’t tall by any means, so he could easily see you behind her. You were clearly uncomfortable with something, unable to look at him or any living thing, your eyes instead fixated on the plants on the table next to the door. 

He had to remind himself to breathe when you rolled your eyes at Taylor and walked around her, your head down and pointedly trying not to make eye contact with him as you walked to the door to put on your shoes.

You were wearing a long black dress, not too long that you could ever trip over the hem, but long enough to accentuate the sheer length of your legs, and now he was close enough he could make out the little clusters of purple flowers embroidered onto the material. 

He couldn’t really get his mind to focus on anything other than ‘wow, that dress fits nicely’; it accentuates your curves perfectly and…he needed to breathe. He cleared his throat awkwardly, wondering when it had suddenly become so dry and ripped his eyes away to blink at Taylor.

He couldn’t read her face, but he didn’t like the look on it.

“Yeah?” He asked, unable to help glancing back at you. 

You looked…wow. 

“Does she look nice?” 

“Taylor–”

“You look really nice.” He blurted, his hands stuck in his pockets. When both of you turned to stare at him, apparently speechless, he felt his cheeks redden and his eyes drifted to the doorframe, a little mortified because you clearly hadn’t wanted him to say anything, but also because he’d said it embarrassingly fast and added a ‘really’ in there. And said it like he had a gun pointed to his head, which was one hell of a contradiction.

“Thanks.” You said, not having moved much. 

He just nodded, wanting nothing more than to melt into a puddle on the floor and soak through the floorboards and pretend this moment never occurred.

He wasn’t supposed to like you, he pretty much swore that from the start. But he had a niggling feeling you were wearing him down somehow. He didn’t know what it was, but lately he’d been finding himself sneaking a smile at some of the stuff you said and did. Like you were actually getting along.

And maybe it was because he wanted to test that unspoken theory out – to see if maybe you could be friends – but as he left he waited in the doorway for Taylor to finish talking. He had a sneaking suspicion, though, that Taylor was only talking for herself. The look on your face: he knew you were grateful for what she was saying, but there was something akin to impatience on your face if he looked hard enough.

And it was that, and the fact that the fake smile you’d plastered on your face was slowly slipping with every second that passed and every glance at the time on your phone, that he found himself stepping a little closer, whipping his keys around on his finger, “Hey, are you okay for a lift?”

Taylor shut up and looked to you for confirmation.

There was a pause and he almost regretted asking it–

“Are you offering?” Your voice was different to how it usually sounded when you were speaking to him; softer, perhaps a little more vulnerable.

And when he looked at you, he wasn’t quite sure what it was but it felt different. His stomach sort of dropped and he…lost his train of thought.

Still, he managed, “Yeah. I can drop y’off on my way home, it’s no problem.”

“You’re leaving already?” Taylor asked, an eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired.” He didn’t really want to say that he didn’t feel like he was welcome at this particular moment in time, not with Ellis clearly in a mood, but he did feel a stab of guilt when he thought about leaving Taylor to deal with it by herself, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” She brushed it off, taking a step back and glancing between you and him with an odd glint in her eye, “I’ll let you go. Have fun.”

There were a few hushed mutters as he stepped out of the apartment, waiting by the elevator for you to join him, and almost as soon as you shut the door behind you, you sighed.

He still didn’t say anything, and instead turned to watch the numbers tick up to the floor, before an audible ding sounded and the doors shuddered open. He let you go first. And if he thought the tension back with Ellis was bad, this was a whole other level, because he swore he could hear the cogs of your mind working on overdrive – about the date or about his uncharacteristic behaviour, he couldn’t possibly guess, but it was driving him crazy.

“You good?”

“Hmm?” You looked at him, shocked at his words, and he’d never seen you this frazzled before, “Oh, yeah. Just nervous, I guess.”

He swallowed, uncertain. He wanted to say something to make you feel better – heck, he had it lined up in his head to just blurt out, but the only thing stopping him was that it might make it weirder, and you’d already been bombarded by that kind of thing from Taylor. And then he thought of you on your date and–

“If you tell yourself that the nerves are actually just excitement, I find it usually eases some of the, y’know, nerves.” He stuttered, glad the doors opened once more.

“Thanks. Also, thanks for offering to drive me here, you really didn’t have to.” You murmured, and he found himself shaking his head.

“You don’t have to thank me, it really wasn’t any trouble.”

“Do you get nervous before your games?”

The question startled him to such an extent that he almost tripped over the rug in the entryway, but his sneakers squeaked against the floor and he felt his body jolt a little. 

Was he actually losing it or was this considered a civil conversation? You weren’t at his throat with some quick witted jab, and you weren’t looking at him like you wanted to wring his neck.

It was weirdly refreshing.

“Sometimes.” He admitted, holding the door open to the car park, “It’s usually hit and miss though, it depends on who we’re playing. The car’s this way.” He pointed to the other side of the garage at your hesitation.

And it wasn’t until you’d buckled yourself in and he’d turned the engine on that either of you spoke again.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He breathed a bitter laugh, “I’m usually nice to people, y’know, I’m not a–”

“Dick?”

“Yeah.” He shot you a look, “You test my patience, though. You bring out the worst of me.”

You seemed to ease up a little at his confession, managing a small smile, “Likewise.”

“I just…” he trailed off, pulling a face before momentarily losing his train of thought as he pulled out into traffic, “There’s a time and a place for that kind of thing. And I could tell Taylor was starting to grind your gears, so…”

You hummed, “Yeah. She’s great but sometimes she, like, I don’t think she knows me as well as she thinks she does. Sometimes I just need quiet.”

So, he thought, that’s what he’ll give you.

***

Unknown Number: SOS

Unknown Number: HELP

Unknown Number: PLEASE HURRY

You: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Michael Bunting

You could hear the yelling and the dumping of objects into a hollow box even through the door, and it was both the noise and the frantic messages that were still pinging through your phone that had you instantly pushing it open. If you hadn’t had some semblance of a warning from the messages, you’d have probably assumed the entire place had been ransacked by burglars: drawers had been turned upside down with the contents littered across floors in an attempt to find their individual belongings; there were cardboard boxes piled and stacked, stuff sticking up – and, more importantly you guessed, both co-habitants standing in the middle of the living room, yelling about something or other with a stricken Michael Bunting awkwardly holding a TV remote and waiting by the door like a kid.

It was clear from his face that he had no idea what to do. And despite the situation, you were able to find some amusement in that.

Although…

“What’s Taylor doing here?” You asked, the both of you still loitering in the doorway, watching your friends rip each other up like it was usual Saturday soap.

He shrugged, and you felt the heat of his stare burn the side of your cheek until you couldn’t take the silence. His cheeks were pink and he looked to be stuttering.

“What?” 

He winced, “I kind of walked in this morning and she was in the kitchen.” 

You blinked, your attention switching back to the arguing couple. Ellis had a cushion in his hand and they were both insisting it was theirs, only when you looked closer, you noticed Taylor’s bare feet and the Blue Jays t-shirt she was wearing, and you turned, shocked and disturbed, to Michael.

“When you said this morning…”

“Yeah?” He was refusing to look at you properly now, and that little seed of disbelief that had planted itself in your brain seemed to bloom, and a pebble of stress dropped in your stomach. His cheeks were still a bit pink, but it was hidden by a thicker wad of stubble than when you’d last seen each other.

“What time was that?” You continued, watching the delicate lines near his eyes appear when he pulled another face, almost confirming your thoughts with just a look.

“Nine.”

You nodded, “Right. And was she, y’know, dressed?”

His eyes closed briefly, a whisper of mortification barely heard over the yelling – but with the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder sharing a doorway it wasn’t missed, “Barely.”

You huffed a small laugh at his expense because he clearly hadn’t been prepared for his best friend’s now ex-girlfriend to be in the kitchen wearing next to nothing that early in the morning, and at the sound he sent you an offended glance.

“Sorry.” You apologised, turning to watch the spectacle with a barely-there smile that became increasingly difficult to hide the longer you felt him stare accusingly in your direction – if anything his undying attention only amplified the hilarity of his earlier memory and you had to lean your forehead against the wood of the doorframe and turn your back to him to block the image from your mind entirely.

“Listen, she’s pretty and everything, but…it’s weird for me.” He mumbled, folding his arms.

“Was it your first time seeing a half-naked woman?” 

He rolled his eyes, “You’re hilarious – shut up, don’t even say it. You know why it’s weird. It’d be weird if you walked in and it was Ellis with, like, a bowl of cereal covering his crotch.”

You wrinkled your nose, frowning, “I didn’t need that image, but point taken.”

You turned your attention to the bickering couple in front of you, now waving a fly swatter. In truth, you weren’t really sure why you were here or why Michael was here. Taylor had asked you to come with her when she’d made her so-called ‘appointment’ to pick up her stuff from Ellis’s place, but looking at them now she didn’t really need the help, or moral support. And neither did Ellis.

In fact, they were standing in front of each other arguing, and it was probably the least stressed you’d seen Taylor in weeks. Sure, their voices were raised, but there wasn’t anything malicious being said or anything physical going on. They were simply picking up objects and having a loud debate over whose it was, and it was that arguing combined with the obvious ‘last time together’ thing that made you think maybe this was more for closure for each other than anything else.

Even from Taylor’s point of view, she wasn’t quite sure what had happened, but she’d said it felt like everything between them had just gradually fizzled out for no apparent reason. It was odd, really: they’d seemed like such a good fit at the start and now, even like last week, they’d be in the same room and have more interest in talking to either you or Michael than showing interest in each other.

And it was that that had you turning to the man next to you, something plucking at your heart strings. It felt an awful lot like the dread you’d felt earlier, except it was laced with something heavier. Like knowing you’d never see your childhood pet again.

“Are they still broken up?” You found yourself asking, wanting him to turn his attention away from the scenes in front of you both.

He blinked once more before turning his head to look at you, about to say something on the tip of his tongue but clearly changing his mind at what he saw on your face. He tilted his head, eyes zipping from each of yours – back and forth – before his mouth curved up slightly at the edges, his expression taking an odd turn.

“What?” You asked, paranoid at the way he was looking at you.

His grin broadened, and he tilted his head adorably, “Nothing. But, yeah, they’re still broken up.”

You nodded, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. There was something rising in your chest, a tightness edged with panic, like you were aware time was clearly running out for something but your head wasn’t quite sure what.

“We’re still gonna be friends, right?” 

For a brief moment, you didn’t know what to do. Your pulse seemed to kick against your sternum and that tightness in your chest eased, an inexplicable reaction that you couldn’t quite get ahold of its meaning.

“Us?” You looked at him, and where he previously had a smile on his face, it was now replaced with a kind of cautious curiosity: his mouth was pulled tightly and there was a slight, very slight crease between his brows that deepened when you spoke again.

His eyes briefly skitted to your right before returning to meet yours, “Yeah?” He said, but with the way his voice ticked up at the end it almost sounded like he wasn’t too sure himself.

And you were so shocked at the words falling out of his mouth that you could only blink and stare, “I’m your friend?”

You supposed it wasn’t too shocking: after the initial agreement it had taken a while to warm up to each other, but you’d eventually gotten to the point where you’d managed to unintentionally create some inside jokes, and, sure, you’d still bicker like children from time to time, but the teasing was less malicious and more fond, like you’d known each other for a while.

And it was in that moment that you realised that tightness in your chest was because you just assumed that, like Taylor would lose Ellis, you would lose Michael. 

His eyes narrowed uncomfortably, and you could tell he'd gone a little defensive at your questions, probably assuming his own assumptions weren’t exactly reciprocated, “Yes.” He said, a little forcefully, “Aren’t I your friend?”

You nodded, awkwardly scratching your cheek, “I just assumed you only spent time with me because of Ellis and Taylor–”

“Nah.”

You nodded slowly, a small smile creeping onto your face, “Oh.”

He paused for a beat, watching you carefully, “Is that a no, then?”

“No, it’s a yes.”

“Good.” He grinned.

***

He was next to you one second and the next he’d just disappeared completely. It was the strangest thing. 

It wasn’t like he was particularly easy to lose in a  crowd, either, not with those shoulders and – well, actually, he was quite small so in hindsight, it was pretty easy to lose him in a crowd, especially when he was just another suit-clad man with a fairly recent haircut and shave.

You sighed in defeat, sitting back in your chair at the table surrounded by strangers that weren’t all that interested in your presence. You’d checked your phone at least five times within the past three minutes, expecting a quick text for an explanation and you hadn’t really been able to stop looking at the bar, helplessly expecting his face to materialise in thin air.

It was pretty shitty what he’d done: he’d all but begged you to come with him to one of his friend’s weddings and after you’d had to rearrange plans just so you could agree (he’d been so desperate he’d actually offered you a thousand dollars to go with him), yet the second you both enter the reception location, he dips? 

“Excuse me, hi–”

You snapped your neck towards the unfamiliar voice, heart pounding like a jackhammer in your chest at the unexpected intrusion, and managed a polite, albeit confused, smile as you found yourself faced with a pretty raven-haired woman. You’d never seen her before, but with the way she was looking at you, you were almost forced to second guess yourself.

“Oh, hi.” You replied, brain spinning and throwing out names, but your face clearly contorting into one of utter bewilderment, much to her amusement.

She chuckled, “Sorry, you don’t know me.” She said, slightly oddly, and you tilted your head, connecting the dots from what she hadn’t said.

“But you know me?” You asked, and she shrugged, her cheeks colouring slightly.

“Not exactly, but I saw you come in with Michael–”

“Oh.”

She cringed, “Yeah. I am really sorry for approaching you like this, but I was just wondering if he was okay?”

You just blinked.

“You know,” she continued, clearly sensing your confusion, “because of our breakup?”

Oh fuck.

You tried to hide the shock from your face – as though this wasn’t new news to you – but try as you might, you felt your brows rise a little and your heart rate quicken. He’d never mentioned anything like that to you. In fact, you guys rarely ever talked about relationships, even despite you currently being in one (though it probably wasn’t going to last with the way it had been going recently), so you just assumed he hadn’t been in one.

Nevertheless, you nodded, “He’s fine.”

She eased after that, smiling in relief, but still hung around as though you were supposed to say something else, but in all honesty you weren’t sure what to say. You didn’t know if he was okay, not if he’d seen her and bolted; you didn’t know when it was that they’d broken up, and you didn’t know how much he’d want you to say.

So you sat in the chair, smiling awkwardly – probably appearing pretty rude – and just sighed.

“I’m sorry, I can’t say–”

“It’s fine, I understand.” She replied, smiling tightly, “Enjoy the night.” 

You watched her walk away, and as soon as she disappeared through another set of doors, you picked up your phone and started to wind your way through the crowds to at least guess where he could have gone. There were little booths and food carts off around the edge of the room, along with some photo booths and drinks stands – it wasn’t until you reached the photo booth right near the entrance that you stopped for the first time.

There wasn’t a queue to this one, but there was a strip of photos in the hatch and a pair of freshly shined shoes under the curtain. You paused, taking a peak at the photos.

It was him, alright. Four photos: one of him in a ginger wig, one with a pair of huge glasses on, one with a moustache on a stick and the final one with all of them combined. If it had been any other time you supposed you’d have laughed, but all the photos did was fuel your desire to get the curtain open.

All he did was raise his brows at your appearance and shuffle over on the bench, tucking himself in against the wall with a defeated, unsurprised smile. You passed him the photo strip and he breathed a short, mirthless laugh before tucking it in his pocket and turning to you, an almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Sorry for ditching you.” He mumbled, looking genuinely guilty.

You shook your head, a pang of adoration shooting through your system for the man in front of you. You didn’t quite know where it suddenly came from or why it occurred, but you did know that it meant he was precious to you in a way you hadn’t even realised. You guys weren’t exactly close – there were obviously things you didn’t talk about (as evidenced), but you cared about him. Wanted him to be happy. 

Wanted to wipe that forlorn expression off his face because he was clearly beating himself up about leaving you but still a little caught off guard by…

“You don’t have to apologise.” You smiled reassuringly, before asking, “What’s her name?”

His brows raised, and he tutted as he pulled an uncomfortable face. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected the question or because he was stealing himself, you weren’t at liberty to say, “Jess.” He managed, eyes zeroing in on some lint on the floor by his feet.

You just nodded. If he wanted to talk about it, you knew he would – he wasn’t exactly an open book when you prodded him, but you were all ears regardless. 

“We were in a serious relationship for three and a half years before we broke up. That was a week before I met you. I wasn’t really coping well so Ellis dragged me out to that bar. I’m okay now, though. I still get a bit sad about it but I think I’m more sad for the me I was when we were dating than the me now, if that makes sense.” He spoke to his shoes, his arms crossed against his chest, as though to spit the words out and force himself to talk about it, that also meant he couldn’t face you, “I had a feeling she was gonna be here tonight, it was actually why I invited you, but the second I saw her, I don’t know, I just walked away. And the weird thing is that I don’t know why I walked away, because when I saw her I felt nothing. Maybe I walked away because I feel like I should have felt something, like walking away from her was something that was expected of me.” He sighed, swinging his head towards you, his eyes momentarily dropping to the necklace that sat comfortably against your sternum before darting back up to your face, “I’m just a bit confused.” He admitted.

You reciprocated his wry, self-deprecating smile, patting him on the arm fondly, “Me too; I actually thought you wanted to spend time with me–”

“Shut the fuck up.” He breathed a laugh, shaking his head. 

That despondent expression had gone, the tension practically drained from the lines of his face, and you rejoiced at the smile now there – a real one, not one put on for the sake of it.

You took a breath, and whether he could sense that you were about to say something potentially cheesy, or something that neither of you would really say or do, his smile dropped, but only slightly. His eyes were focused on you, and you almost wanted to shrink back under his gaze – you two were sitting pretty tightly together: this photo booth bench was only made for one person, so there was little to no room to even look at each other properly. You’d both had to lean backwards against the walls to not end up touching noses, and for some reason, that hadn’t even occurred to you until that very second.

The breath in your chest shook a little, “I know…Um…” You laughed uneasily, “I know you said you were okay, and I know we don’t usually do this kind of thing, but if you ever feel like it…just for the support – that my hand is here for you to hold if ever you want to.” You inhaled, and this time it was you who was unable to look at him, “And that it’s okay to feel confused about it all. You don’t have to have an explanation for everything, but there’s nothing you can feel that’s wrong in any way. And if you ever want to talk about it…I’m always gonna be here for you.”

When you finally found the courage to turn to him again, he was looking at you in a way that was almost equivalent to the secret adoration you harboured for him, and you fought to keep your cheeks from flushing and your face from smiling like a damn fool. With the way the LED overhead lights were shining on you both – the heat of them warming the box pretty quickly, made worse by the two bodies also in there – your eyes drifted to his nose. You’d never really noticed it before, but the light seemed to hit it just right to enunciate the straight bridge of it. There was a scar just above his lip, darker and also more pronounced from the fresh shave (he’d not got rid of it all, there was still a light bit of scruff left), and although he wasn’t smiling properly, the creases by his eyes seemed to suggest otherwise.

He swallowed once he noticed you’d turned your attention back to him, and he nodded, lips twitching, “That really means a lot, hearing you say that.” He said, rather hoarsely, “It also goes both ways, too.” 

You tilted your head in question.

“The hand thing – you can hold mine…for support.” 

“Ah.”

“I actually do have something to say, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

When did his eyes get so fucking bright? It almost angered you that you’d never noticed it before.

“What?” You asked, mildly curious as to his next words.

Though, nothing – absolutely nothing – could have prepared you for the bombshell of his next words.

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

***

“I know I said to avoid Tim Horton’s today, but I didn’t really mean to avoid–Oh, what the heck?”

His phone was immediately pocketed, and the smile on his face immediately dropped, and he stepped through the door without another word, leaving you both severely confused at his sudden actions and slightly light headed at the speed he’d managed to do all three things in. He simply stood in front of your now shut door, a mildly horrified look on his face and his hands tapping against his short-clad thigh.

“Why are you wearing shorts, it’s freezing outside?”

Your question of appal seemingly went unheard, because the crease between his brows only deepened and he pulled a funny face: his mouth turned down at the corners but he wasn’t angry or upset.

“Um…Okay, so you can tell me to shut the fuck up with what I’m about to ask you…” He trailed off, his eyes never leaving your face – all it did was elicit you to swipe against your cheek, expecting your hand to come away with pen or some dirt or something, because he was looking at you like you were an alien.

It was weird. And creepy.

“But have you been crying?”

You blinked, tilting your head with wide eyes.

He didn’t say anything but he copied your actions, before snapping into a more serious role, “No, but I’m being deadly serious.”

You hesitated, and he took that as your answer, his entire body deflating.

There was no point trying to hide it, clearly not if he’d just taken one solid look at you immediately after walking through the door and managed to figure it out. If anything you were a little impressed he’d recognised it because you’d never cried before or in front of seeing him ever – there hadn’t ever been a situation where he’d have seen your post-cry face to recognise it for what it was, and it wasn’t even as if you actually cried much. Maybe two minutes, tops.

“I broke up with Sam this morning.” You bit the bullet, willing your eyes to not tear up as you spoke the words into existence, but as you did so, the lump rose in your throat so impossibly quickly you physically couldn’t bring yourself to say anything else. Not if you didn’t want to actually start crying.

So you waited, and you watched and you looked as he stuttered, his eyes darting all over your face before going to your living room area. He circled his attention back to you after his forehead had creased and he’d seen what was on the TV, looking suddenly more comfortable than he had mere seconds ago.

“Are you okay?” Was the first thing out of his mouth, his backpack sliding off his shoulders easily to be deposited by the door, and all you could manage was a weak shrug, teeth scraping against your bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

You hated crying, and there was nothing worse than crying in front of someone else – you had no idea how he’d react if the dam did end up breaking, but if the soft, sympathetic gleam in his eye as he took an unsure step towards you was anything to go by, you had an inkling you were in safe hands.

He nodded at your uncertain gesture, “That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

The crack in your chest seemed to split further, as though someone had thrown an axe straight through it, and all you could do was nod, your arms crossed tightly against your chest as though they’d somehow protect you from the inevitable hurt and grief of the next few minutes, hours, weeks and perhaps months.

But, despite all of that, the fact that he’d shown up out of nowhere sheerly because you hadn’t had the energy to pick up your phone, and because he clearly cared, you felt okay. Better than you had earlier when you hadn’t even spoken the truth to anyone.

He was right, you didn’t want to talk about it – but he was here. And he was pulling a Tim Horton’s box out of his backpack, giving you space and time and he was so heart-achingly patient that it almost sent you into another spiral of tears for a whole different reason. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His friendship was different from yours with Taylor; you loved the girl to pieces but if you’d have told her like you’d just told him, she’d have corralled you into spilling your guts about everything, and you didn’t need that.

You needed peace and quiet and the familiar security and the unspoken knowledge that, yes, you were upset, but you were going to be okay.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, stomach growling when the smells emanated from the open paper bag.

He nodded wordlessly, but looked up with mild horror at the sounds your stomach made, “Hungry?” He joked lightly, already rooting through your cupboards to gather plates.

“Just a bit.” You replied hoarsely, helping him upturn the various boxes onto the plates, before, wordlessly, you both crashed on the couch, your eyes burning each and every single time you blinked. Your throat was aching with the effort to not succumb to the growing lump that had planted itself there, and you were so exhausted. So, so exhausted. 

“Thanks for the food.” You said, between mouthfuls, the hungry cramps of your stomach easing with each and every bite. You didn’t let him answer before you jumped into your next question: “How was work?”

You watched him out of the corner of his eye, swallow, also looking at you for a brief moment – as though to suss you out and to gather his thoughts – before he shrugged, a small smile on his face, “It was so bad.”

“Really?” You managed a laugh, the muscles in your face feeling tight at the sudden movements. His face was a picture: he was grinning brightly, the corners of his eyes crinkled and his brows had jumped up his forehead, mind clearly playing something on repeat.

“Really. Willy did the bare minimum and just giggled at me the entire time which made me worse at it, and I – fuck, I couldn’t concentrate on the people in front of me when there were people ordering down the line, and then Mo and Auston showed up too–”

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head morbidly, “Dead serious. Wearing wigs and the most ridiculous clothes I’ve ever seen, and they ripped us apart, man. I can’t even do it justice, you’ll just have to watch it when it comes out, oh God…” He trailed off, breaking into a small fit of giggles that was so infectious you had to put your own food back down and concentrate on now choking on your drink.

“It was bad, but you had fun?” You summarised, grinning as he nodded, practically glowing at the memory of it.

“I think it’s one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

You just laughed, tucking into your food once more as it became clear he didn’t have anything else to say about it–

“Why’re you watching this?”

Your eyes jumped to him across the couch, briefly frowning in confusion before remembering exactly what you’d been watching before the knock on your door. The frame had been paused mid-first period of the game – there wasn’t anything particularly spectacular about it, and you wondered if he recognised it at all.

He tilted his head, a hint of confusion lacing his tone, and you swallowed, nerves picking up and your heart thrumming in your chest. You never really talked about hockey with him, at least not from your perspective. You guys talked about the Leafs and his games and his practices and his teammates, but you’d never really broached your affinity for the sport. And the longer you’d left it, the more awkward you’d felt it would be to just admit it outright.

“It’s my favourite game.” You admitted quietly, fighting the urge to smile fondly.

He hesitated, his head swinging from you to the screen and back again, and he asked, a little breathlessly – as though he was trying to wrap his head around everything bouncing around his mind – “You watch hockey enough to have a favourite game?”

You nodded, “I love hockey.”

“You do?” He asked, voice higher in pitch than it had been. The surprise was painfully evident, and with it, so was the guilt that seemed to make itself known.

“Yeah.”

He nodded slowly, “I thought you didn’t know who I was?” 

“I didn’t. I’d just moved to Toronto, like, a week before you started I think, and the Leafs aren’t exactly my team, y’know?” You explained, watching him carefully for any traces of possible betrayal he might feel, “It was a hectic time to be keeping up with any NHL news.”

He blinked, before shrugging, “Makes sense. Your team’s the Preds?” He raised an inquisitive brow, and for some reason you knew then that you’d both be locked in this amusing back and forth for a while. Of course you would: there’s no greater hockey fan than a hockey player, let alone a hockey player playing for their childhood team. 

You scoffed, barking a short, almost offended laugh, “No. I mean, I have nothing against the Preds, but it’s the Pens for me, all the way.” 

He arched a brow at your reaction, a smirk beginning to play at the corner of his mouth, “I mean you no offence when I say that.” Before, “I want you to win, though–”

“Just me?”

“Micheal Bunting against the NHL, yeah.” You rolled your eyes, “The Leafs are…I want you to win unless it’s against the Pens. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“What do you do when we play with each other?”

You widen your eyes comically, “Lock myself in a dark room and don’t come out until the game’s over.” You shrug, answering honestly, “It depends whose situation is the most dire, I guess. I always want the Pens to do well, but you’ve thrown a spanner in the works. You’ve made hockey complicated.”

“I’m honoured.” He laughed softly, “Why’s this one your favourite?”

“Sixth game of the Stanley Cup Final, 2017. I don’t know why that one specifically, it’s just the last one we won when I was back home, so it reminds me of…well, home, I guess.”

“You miss it?”

You nodded, almost wistfully, “Yeah. I sometimes think about moving back.”

“But?” He encouraged, almost afraid of what you were about to say.

“I don’t know. I have friends here, a job, somewhere to live; I guess I have that back home too, or I would given the time. I think I’m just waiting for the right moment to go back.” You trailed off, your voice becoming nothing more than a mere whisper, but he caught it – with a slow nod and the parting of his mouth.

You’d seen him speechless before, but he always managed to find something to say. The silence that ensued after spoke volumes, mostly just because you didn’t understand any of it. 

He reached over after that, taking the remote, before hesitating and turning to you, shocked when he found your eyes already on him, “What counts as the right moment?”

He pressed play when you shrugged.

***

Even after the conversation you’d both had last year about you leaving, you never would have imagined he’d be the one leaving first. It had always been a possibility, maybe even something you’d thought about since becoming friends, but there hadn’t really been anything to suggest he would leave. At least, not until the last season.

And it hadn’t ever felt realer than this moment: standing in the doorway to an empty house, your clothes sticking to you in the early Summer heat with your hands on your hips and feeling much more emotional about the prospect of a Bunting-less Toronto than you’d initially prepared yourself for.

He was wandering through the empty rooms, double and triple checking everything after you’d done the same, and for those lonely three minutes without him, you got a glimpse of what it’d be like not seeing each other every few days. You couldn’t exactly remember when Toronto had suddenly become him, but the idea of it felt strangely intimidating. It almost felt like you’d just moved in again, not knowing anyone or where anything was.

It was scary.

He came back into view, hand resting on a door frame as he stopped suddenly in the exact spot he’d looked up to you in. You offered a reassuring smile, standing up straight, but you could both tell it was strained.

“Checked everything?” You asked, voice tight, but you didn’t want to ruin this moment for him. He’d been looking forward to settling in Raleigh since he’d signed the contract – at least, once he’d gotten over the initial disappointment and sadness of leaving Ontario.

And you were excited for him, for this new opportunity and this new experience. 

You’d just never really anticipated how you’d feel.

“Yeah.” He nodded, swallowing, looking grave and strange.

“You good?” 

“Yeah.” He breathed a laugh, walking towards you and scratching his beard – he’d started leaving it longer between each shave now – “Just gonna miss this place, I guess.” He swung his hands in front of him, coming to a direct stop in front of you and swivelling on his heel, taking one last, long look at the place he’d called home for years.

You hummed in agreement, “Me too.”

You hadn’t even realised how true that admission was until you’d said it out loud. It sent an uncomfortable zing down your spine, like pulling down a zipper, and you shivered, rubbing your arms just to give yourself something to do. 

He turned to look at you, eyes assessing your every motion, and you froze. You didn’t really know where to go from here. The car was packed, the house was empty: you’d drop by the estate agent’s on the way to drop him at the airport, and from then on he’d be in Raleigh – at least, in every way that mattered to you. Sure, he had his training camps and he had his away games, but you’d very rarely get to see each other.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to say anything.

But where did you go from here? You? 

Well…you’d been toying with the idea for a while, but–

“You ready?” He breathed out, lips pressed together with his hands on his hips.

You nodded, managing a smile, but the lack of effort into pretending like you weren’t in the least bit affected by it was noticeable. 

“Let’s go then.” You whispered, leading the way to the front door, slowing down each time he turned to get another look – never too far ahead, not wanting to let him out of your sight. These moments felt crucial, somehow. It was the last time you’d actually be able to look at him properly; his eyes, hair, smile, arms, legs, clothes. You felt silly soaking it all up.

He followed closely on your heels, taking the keys from you on the porch and turning round to lock the door behind him for the last time. He didn’t say anything, but his mouth twisted and he ran a brief hand across his brow bone, almost as though he was wiping away some sweat or satisfying an itch.

You tried not to make it obvious you were keeping an eye on him, ensuring to stand behind him, a few steps down to give him the space to collect himself if he needed to. And when he turned back around, he tried to keep his head down but you still caught his red-rimmed eyes and his sucked in cheek and his shaky smile as he caught up with you.

It was silent in the car, too, no music playing through the speakers. He was looking out of the window, eyes catching onto everything that swam passed, drinking it all in. 

Each time ‘for the last time’ flew through your mind, you’d have to catch yourself and reign in the prickly eyes and the tightness in your chest as best as you could without drawing too much attention to yourself. It felt pointless, though, because you knew it was inevitable that you’d both end up shedding a few tears at some point.

The only thing that seemed to do it was the knowledge that it wouldn’t even be the last time, because he grew up near here. He’d come back when he could; you’d see each other at the Marner wedding next month, too.

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it felt like a part of it was dying.

“Here.” You mumbled, voice hoarse and wiping at the underneath of your eyes (no tears had fallen, but you could feel them welling up).

He looked up and out of the window, eyes zeroing in on the window of the estate agents. His seatbelt came next, and before you could convince yourself otherwise, you followed him in, ignoring his curious eye but taking the hand he offered anyway. It was something you’d both taken to doing lately, even in mundane moments like this.

Whether it was the knowledge that time was running out or if it was just a comfort thing, you never spoke about it. It just happened. And it seemed today was one of those days you both needed it.

Only, as he made his way towards the desk, you branched away towards the other side of the shop, hands ripping apart. He only threw a confused look behind, but carried on when his own agent walked out from the back of the shop.

You, however, found yourself standing in front of the magazine rack, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides, eyes roving over the words on each, searching for the correct one. Nothing seemed to ease the hollowness under your sternum, though. 

There was some comfort when you found the right one, though, picking it up and feeling the comfortable weight in your hands. It felt like a breath of fresh air, and the twinges eased only slightly at the familiar cityscape on the front.

You swallowed, rolling it up in your fist and making your way back over to where he was chatting to his estate agent, a pen in his hand and some papers in front of him. The key had been stripped of its keychains, and for some reason that little difference brought everything back again.

You wanted to reach for his hand, but you held back for a moment. The estate agent caught your eye and you managed a polite smile, but it dropped the second they looked away.

And before you could blink, Michael was pushing himself off the counter, snatching his keychains and pushing everything else back towards the agent with a final thanks, and then he turned.

He blinked, eyes dropping to the programme in your hand, and you tried to hide it by moving it behind his leg, but he wasn’t having any of it. There was a crease between his brows, and he didn’t look to be on the verge of tears anymore, but there was a specific ticking to his jaw – his entire being was still tinged with a veil of melancholy, but he gently took it from your hand once you’d stepped outside. You let him, your fist unfurling.

Your face seemed to act of its own accord, an odd wince appearing as his lips parted.

“You’re really gonna do it?” He murmured gently, an odd glint in his eye.

“Think it’s time.” You breathed an uncomfortable laugh, somehow not able to look at him or anything else.

He was so magnetic it was honestly a chore trying not to give him all of your attention, least of all when he was looking at you differently. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot before, but you’d noticed it a lot more recently: his eyes would fix themselves on you with an unfamiliar intensity, and even when you’d catch him red handed, he wouldn’t ever let up. If anything, the attention from you seemed to make it worse (or better?) because he’d start to smile and he’d expel a stuttering breath, like he hadn’t previously been breathing.

Each time, though, you never failed to blush slightly. Your cheeks would feel warm and you’d only be able to stand his look for so long before ultimately looking away, trying not to appear too flustered by it.

“Yeah?” He asked, handing you the programme back, “You can’t stand to be in a different country than me, eh?” He joked, but you could sense the underlying seriousness to his question, as though he was fishing for a specific answer.

“You wish.” You managed, scoffing slightly but unable to hide a small smile at the familiar dynamic.

It vanished the second the first wave of homesickness took hold of you though, and he noticed. Just grabbed your hand again.

The drive from the estate agent’s to the airport was even worse. Every time the sign appeared on the side of the road, you’d have to inhale and remind yourself to keep breathing in order to stave off the oncoming bout of tears. The entire time you were fighting against the wetness gathering in your eyes, and your nose had started to run – each sniff meant he’d look at you out of the corner of his eye and if anything, that made it worse, because as time went on and as you pulled into the parking lot, you could hear his sniffles too.

You put off turning the engine off. The second you did, he’d climb out, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that just yet. Judging from the utter stillness he was exhibiting in the passenger seat, he was the same.

Your hands were still clenched around the steering wheel, the rough plastic doing nothing to cure your cold hands, not even when the sun was shining through the windshield and warming the entire vehicle. Your body was on high alert, blood not really flowing to your extremities.

You’d never been so numb yet so aware of everything in your entire life: the way the hairs on your arms stood up when he turned in his seat to face you was almost drowned out by the pounding of your heart in the sheer effort it took to not show the tears wobbling on your waterline. 

It was a plane taking off and the sheer volume of the engine that snapped you out of the haze, your hands unclipping your seatbelt, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to even touch the door, flinching when the belt smacked against the inside of the car.

“I feel weird.” He muttered, eyes staring straight through the windshield and into the car parked nose to nose. He sniffed once, before unclipping his own seatbelt, and you watched him in silence as his shaking hands hovered above his lap before eventually settling on top of his cap, a shuddering breath passing his lips.

The sight was such a contrast to how he’d been earlier that morning – he’d gone from bouncing on his toes with giddy excitement to suddenly folding in on himself and the entire world crumbling at its edges.

You pushed open your car door, fully intending to make your way around to his own door and start from there but the second your feet hit the tarmac, he’d also pushed himself out of the car, his door slamming behind him. He’d made it to the trunk before you could even shut yours behind you or ask if he was okay, but it looked as though he’d made the decision to pretend he hadn’t just admitted his inner turmoil.

You helped him lift his luggage out of the car (there wasn’t much: most of his actual things had been packed in a moving van the day before to meet him in Raleigh tomorrow) in silence. The trunk shut.

You swallowed nervously, eyes darting to the entrance of the airport before jumping back to him. He had one fist clenched on the top of a suitcase, his other dropped by his side, gaze focused and unwavering into the glass window of the trunk, blinking every so often.

You cleared your throat and the corners of his mouth twitched before he turned to look at you, feet shuffling against the gravel. 

And he looked so despondent and not really like him at all that you didn’t have any choice whatsoever but to grab his free hand, which, similar to yours, was cold to the touch. You were both watching your fingers intertwine slowly, sliding over each other before finding solace in their places between each other’s knuckles. Three squeezes on your behalf and a small step forward had him pulling his suitcase along, an apprehensive and equally unreadable expression on his face.

“I could have stayed here longer.” He said, the both of you crossing over, a distracted gleam in his eye as he looked up at the entrance, nose scrunching on one side.

“If you stayed longer you’d want to leave less when you have to.” You reasoned, “And it’s better to move into your new place and get everything unpacked and ready for the season before it starts, to really get used to Raleigh, yeah?”

He nodded, swallowing, “Yeah.”

“Still feel weird?” 

He nodded again, looking to the floor as you walked through the entrance.

You frowned, a stab of something really getting you right in the ribs as he only looked up when the airport atmosphere bled into his bubble. It was busy, but it wasn’t the busiest you’d ever seen it: people were milling about, double checking for passports and boarding passes, everything ready at hand, and at the strangers’ checks, Michael’s own hand pulled away from the suitcase, forcing you to stop walking towards the first checkpoint, and patted against the pocket on the outside of his backpack.

He pulled it all out without looking, peering into the plastic wallet you’d given him to keep everything important organised so he wouldn’t have to check it all at this moment, right in the doorway. You reached over, letting him fret, and wheeled his suitcase over by the inside window, dragging him with you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, brows knitted as he continued looking into the wallet, not sparing you much of a glance as you patted imploringly at the straps of his backpack.

“Take it off.” “Only if you ask me out first.”

“Sorry, I just want no strings attached.” 

His eyes slid over to yours, his cheek sucked into his mouth to stop himself from grinning, and he gave you his wallet, shrugging his backpack off easily and dropping it on the floor next to where you’d parked his suitcase.

“Now what?” He asked, eyes darting back to your hand like he wanted to grab it again, but decided against it.

“I don’t know.” You breathed, “How long do you have left?”

“Two hours-ish until boarding.”

“Oh.” He had to leave now, you supposed, eyeing his luggage like they were the ones taking him away, and that ache in your throat reappeared before you could even blink, and you were rendered speechless. 

You watched him nod, and reach for his bags, but he must have changed his mind because the next thing you knew, your back was pressed up against the window, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and your head resting against his collarbone. 

There was a moment when all you could focus on was the sudden envelope of warmth that circled you, the cacophony of smells: deodorant, fabric softener, a slight twinge of sweat and something else entirely – something very familiar – and before you could even sigh at the ache in your chest, you’d melted into him completely, your own arms hooking around the backs of his. You tucked your forehead down into his chest, pressing at the supple muscle, hands tightening in his shirt.

It wasn’t very comfortable: the ridges of metal edging the glass panes were digging into your back, and–oh.

There was a shuddering against your forehead, and you froze, before tilting your head up to see his eyes screwed shut in an effort to not let anything show. 

“We’ve still got the Marner wedding – it’s gonna be okay.” And despite yourself, despite the watery smile on your face, you laughed a little, “You’re gonna enjoy Raleigh–”

“It’s not that.” He shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and blinking to get rid of the blurriness before dropping them to his sides again, the both of you still in entirely too-close-for-comfort-quarters. 

“The weird feeling?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his chin wavering, and he inhaled sharply, “It’s just gonna be so weird not seeing you.”

“FaceTime exists, as do away games to Toronto.”

“I’m not even in that division anymore.”

You sighed, “Pittsburgh is, though.”

Silence.

He was doing it again: “Stop looking at me like that.”

He frowned, “Like what?”

“I don’t know, just–” You rolled your eyes, reaching to tug him back into you like before, only this time your hands slid up his back to rest across the tops of his shoulders, and he sighed into the touch, his own rough palms dragging up your neck to plant a soft kiss against your hairline. 

You stayed like that until he really had to go, but there weren’t any tears.

***

“Do you like him?”

The question hung in the air for a good few seconds, you pulling a face, heart pounding like a jackhammer against your sternum before you could even find the words and the ability to talk, “He’s infuriating.”

“Do you like him?” Taylor’s voice rang out through your phone speaker, her eyebrow raised very matter-of-fact, and you’d never wanted to scream at her before, but you were cutting it pretty close with the way she was looking at you and the tone she was using.

You hesitated, your face falling. The words were caught in your throat, the admission you’d practised like a teleplay in your head, but the only thing stopping you was the way things would change. Sure, it would only be little things to start with, like Taylor nagging you with it, or her insufferably smug ‘I told you so’s. But eventually that meant that you’d have to do something about it, because Taylor could never leave things like that alone, least of all with rock hard evidence.

But…maybe you needed that?

“I…” You looked away from your phone, body trembling with an invisible cold, “Did I tell you what happened at the wedding?”

She frowned, “The Marner one?”

“Yeah.”

“The one that happened, like, Summer last year? Fucking months ago?”

You cringed, “That one.”

THE MARNER WEDDING:

“My God, are you a sight for sore eyes.”

Michael Bunting was never one to care about his appearance, least of all after crawling off a plane, but somehow he’d found himself in the bathroom of the airport, fixing his hair and straightening his clothes. All for it to fly completely out of the window when he strolled towards the exit and the first thing you did was say that. He couldn’t tell if it was the grin on your face or the sheer excitement racking your entire being that caused it, but he’d never felt sillier for feeling nervous about this moment.

“Could say the same thing about you.” He retorted, feeling the tightness in his chest dissolve, “What’s that?” He reached a finger to tap the underside brim of your cap, the sudden intrusion making you blink and jump slightly.

You knew what he was talking about: the black cap on your head, the sticker placed over a hidden logo with your handwritten message scrawled on. He furrowed his brows, eyes tracking over the words, before tilting his head in confusion, reading it aloud, “‘This is indeed my first rodeo’.” He said it slowly, as though he was worried he’d read it wrong, and before he could even ask you what it meant, you felt his fingers pick at the corner, peeling the sticker back.

He smiled sarcastically, patting it back into place with more force than necessary, the pats like small smacks against your forehead, “Shoulda known. What’s with the rodeo thing?”

“Bridal party thing.” You shrugged, “I’m not sure really.” You reached out to take the small suitcase from him, your own hands trying to pry his fingers off the handle, but he only held on tighter, “Let go.”

“No.”

“Yes.” You sighed, looking him dead in the eye hoping he’d get the hint and succumb, but he shook his head, his other hand peeling your fingers off him one by one, more condescendingly than anything else, “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want the dead body to fall out.”

—

“Hey, I forgot to ask earlier,” he called from the bathroom, the door shut as you took turns: he was cleaning his teeth and trimming his beard etc, and you were getting changed – later, you’d swap, “but how’s the property hunt going in Pittsburgh?”

You grinned, slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. Even the mere mention of your future plans had you smiling like an absolute idiot; you couldn’t wait to get back there. If you told the you that had just moved to Toronto what you were about to do, you were sure she’d have had a stroke from the shock. For so long, you’d envisioned living your life in Toronto and staying there. Moving back home felt more like a fever dream or something you shouldn’t do, because surely moving back to your home city meant you’d failed at something? At least, that used to be your thought process.

In reality, you just missed your family too much – every time something happened, whether it be a proposal or an illness, something in you just ached to be back there. 

“It’s going okay. I’ve got a few places lined up that my parents have viewings booked for to check out, but there hasn’t been anything that’s stood out so far, but…” you paused, sitting on the edge of the bed to sort out your shoes, “I’ve got an online job interview with a company back there next week and the starting date, if I get it, is on par pretty much with moving in if there’s a place found within the next two weeks or so. But that’s only if everything goes well. Reality is I’ll probably end up moving back in with my parents for a few weeks until I find a place which isn’t exactly ideal.”

There were a few bangs, things getting placed on the counter, before his muffled, “Can I open the door?” Could be heard.

“Yeah, I’m decent.”

He creaked open the door, leaning on the handle as it swung open with a dopey grin, and it took everything in you not to stall at the sight: he was only wearing dress pants and a pair of socks, his hair tousled and damp from the shower. You’d seen photos of hockey players shirtless before, but there was something breathtakingly stunning about seeing Michael without one. He was your friend, and friends kept their shirts on – but…you swallowed, rather wishing you didn’t have to tear your eyes away from his toned figure and the smattering trail of hair, and turned your attention to his face.

The grin on his face had frozen, and despite not even looking further down than his neck you could see his chest rising and falling, eyes narrowed playfully as he stood up straighter, eyeing you with something that screamed trouble in all ways imaginable.

“Were you just checking me out?” He let go of the door handle, one hand pointing at you in an accusatory manner, and you just blinked, frowning.

“No.” You shook your head, pasting an incredulous ‘how could you’ look on your face to try and deny what had, in fact, been absolutely true.

He hesitated, his eyes roving your face for a single speck of a lie, “You were looking.”

You shrugged, “I’ve just never seen someone so…well-built before, that’s all.”

He nodded, pressing his lips together to stifle another grin, “So you were checking me out?”

“No, I was looking. There’s a difference.”

He lifted his hand, thumb and pointer finger closed together, a slither of a gap between them, “Tiny difference. So tiny there might not even be a difference.”

You sent him an unimpressed look, one that you hoped would mean he’d shut up about it because the second you even so much as hinted at him being right, it’d be over. He’d hold it above you for the rest of your lives, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of that, not if you could help it, “You’d know if I checked you out.”

He fell for it, his smile dropping in curiosity, “How?”

You shrugged, “You’d just know.” You took a deep breath, “Why’d you open the door?”

“I was gonna ask you about this job interview next week – what’s it for?” He disappeared back into the bathroom, but the mirror in the room still provided you with the perfect angle to watch his focused motions as he ran a towel through his hair and picked up an electric shaver. Each time he moved, his body rippled, and you hated that you couldn’t stop looking.

“It’s a cheffing position at a hotel, but it’s almost like a club. There’s an entire golf course; the restaurant is gorgeous; it’s got a spa, and it’s just…it’s like an old estate house in a period film, it’s just beautiful.” You raved, fiddling with your makeup bag as you waited for him to finish.

“Sounds incredible.” He muttered, nodding at you to join him and shoving his things to one side, “What makes you think you won’t get it?”

You shrugged, placing your bag on the counter, missing the way his eyes dragged right across your figure in the mirror, his hand still shaving his cheek with close concentration. Perhaps if he’d wavered, you’d have caught the action, but you didn’t, carrying on, “They can’t really ‘interview’ me without trying my food. I had to ask if it was okay for an online thing and it was lucky they even agreed, so…I don’t know, it just feels too good to be true.”

“Why?”

You sighed, “It just does. Something has to go wrong somewhere.”

“Not necessarily.”

“I don’t want to get my hopes up, that’s all.” You said it forcefully, throwing something back into your makeup bag and not even looking in his direction. He slowly lowered his hand to the counter, eyes fixated on you for a whole different reason.

You’d gone from being so infectiously excited about the prospect to suddenly…not.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly.

It had been four weeks since you’d last seen each other, and although he’d felt your absence like he’d never expected, he’d never felt it more than he had now. Ironic, considering you were standing right next to him. To have gone from texting each other with updates every day in Toronto to that eventually dwindling, mostly because he didn’t want to bother you too much – he’d assumed the same on your end, too – it was a big adjustment. He’d caught himself reaching for his phone a few times or eyeing it as each notification came through, and the remembrance of ‘oh, shit, we’re in different countries’ or not seeing your name pop up sent a shot of disappointment so deep through his chest that sometimes he’d actually have to massage it away.

It kind of killed him, though, that he didn’t know what was wrong. If he’d have still been back here…

“Yeah,” you clenched and unclenched your jaw, “it’s just stressful. There’s so many decisions that need to be made, and I have a date to move out now but I just want to go back to a job lined up at least. It’d be worth it then.”

His mind whirled, ideas of what to say lining up like there was no tomorrow, but he wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to say. He swallowed, nudging your arm with his elbow to get you to turn your attention back to him, and smiled smally in the mirror when you met his eyes, “I think it’s worth it anyway if it’s something that makes you happy. And it won’t be the end of the world if you don’t have a place to live or a job immediately. It might be ideal, but if it doesn’t work out, you’ll figure things out. Everything will fall into place, it just might take some time, that’s all.”

It was almost magical how quickly the sudden tension dissipated. The dread in your stomach and your racing heart calmed almost instantly – the very second you allowed yourself to believe his words. You knew he wouldn’t say something like that and not mean it, and the fact that he believed in you to that extent – to hear him topple each and every single doubt in your mind to the ground – had you fighting to grab ahold of him. Whether it be his hand or to hug him or to just check to make sure he was really there. It didn’t matter that one half of his beard was neatly trimmed and the other wasn’t; it didn’t matter that his hair was wet or he didn’t have a shirt.

You wanted to tell him you missed him at that very moment. Especially when he looked at you like that again.

Michael blinked, eyeing you. He was aware the entire room had come to a standstill and that all you were doing was simply breathing and looking right at him, and it was the latter that was odd. There was something skewiff about the way you were looking at him, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Your mouth had parted, and there was a faint, dainty crease between your brows, like when you were thinking about something. If it weren’t for the fractional tilt of your head or the softness to your eyes – they kept bouncing across his face like it was the first time you’d actually looked at him – he would’ve thought that’s what you were doing: thinking.

But then you huffed a laugh, almost shocking yourself, and snapped back to reality, that look disappearing as quickly as he’d noticed it, “Yeah.” You placed a hand against your cheek, eyes darting away from him briefly, and when you pulled your palm away, he could see the growing darkness of your cheeks, “Thank you, I really needed to hear that.”

You looked towards the counter, hair falling in a curtain and hiding your face, and not for the first time since he’d come back, a homesick pang seemed to resonate to the tips of his fingers, as though his entire soul had been plucked like the string of a guitar.

—

He kept telling himself that his arm was around your shoulder, his fingers against your skin, because your strap kept falling down – and he could tell it was irritating you. (He’d also made the mistake of actually looking when it had fallen the first time, the sharp motion catching his eye, and he had no intention of replicating that awkward moment again.) It had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol in his system, lowering his inhibitions, or the way you’d scooted closer to him because of the tight-packed bar, or the fact that he’d realised mid-way through the ceremony that what Mitch was saying about Steph was eerily similar to how he felt for you.

Mo kept shooting him a look over Tessa’s head when you weren’t looking, and Willy had hilariously looked shocked when he’d had to correct him that, no, you were just friends, even after knowing that exact same fact for over two years now.

But you? He didn’t think you were thinking too much about him at that moment. Your eyes were fixed on someone further down the bar – someone that he wasn’t particularly fond of during the season in the first place – and he was having a hard time trying not to let it get to him. 

Sidney Crosby. He wasn’t doing anything in particular, but you kept glancing back at him and he could practically sense you vibrating at the mere knowledge that he was metres away. He was half-expecting you to straight-up ditch him to go talk to the man himself, or he would have if you hadn’t shaken your head at Mitch with a hilariously terrified look on your face when he’d offered to introduce you. Michael had an inkling you did want to meet the guy, but just didn’t want to appear too eager.

And realistically, he knew he had absolutely no reason to even be the slightest bit jealous of the guy. He wasn’t even sure he was jealous, but the thought did make him uncomfortable; though he wasn’t entirely able to think about anything other than the vows from earlier.

“Want me to help you out?” It was Willy talking in his ear. He didn’t even need to look at the blonde to know it was him; the garish chain peeking out between a shirt that was unbuttoned dangerously low down, and the cologne emanating from him. Bunts figured he must douse himself in the stuff before he steps outside, but he’d seen Willy get ready and the only conclusion he’d reached was that guy must just smell that good naturally all the damn time.

He didn’t know why that was the first thing that popped into his mind at that moment. What he did know was that nothing good ever followed Willy when he uttered those words. 

“Absolutely not, no.” He was very aware of his fingers still hooked onto the strap of your dress, keeping it held tightly against your shoulder. And on the way your other shoulder was pressed right against his chest. And the fact that you were chatting to someone he wasn’t quite sure he recognised – but the point was that you weren’t listening.

“What, why?” Willy frowned, pouting and swigging a bottle of something. Michael didn’t like the look on his face.

“Because.”

“Because you’re scared?” 

His silence was enough to answer Willy’s question.

“You need help.” 

Michael frowned, “Like, mental help or–”

“Me help.”

“I just said no.”

“I heard you but I’m electing to ignore that and follow my own instincts.” Willy flashed him a grin and Michael felt his stomach drop, watching and unable to move as his ex-teammate walked to his other side, coming to stand next to you and whisper something in your ear that had you recoiling, your head gently bumping against Michael’s shoulder. He pretended not to notice, but he couldn’t help drinking in your reaction.

He had no clue what Willy had done or said, but he could feel his heart beating in his chest, and he was half-expecting you to turn around and ask if he was okay, but, much to his own intrigue, you shook your head, an awkward apologetic expression on your face.

Willy shrugged, but there was a crease between his brows. And because Michael knew him so well, he could tell something had been proven. 

Willy then reappeared at Michael’s other side, and you returned talking to who you’d been chatting to before, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“What?” 

Willy said nothing.

“Dude.” Michael could feel himself getting agitated, his hand was tapping anxiously against his thigh and because he was so fully intent on focusing on Willy, he was completely ignorant to the way you’d turned around at the sudden shaking, eyes zeroing in on his spare hand with confusion. Willy noticed it, though. He also noticed the way your hand twitched before clearly thinking the better of it and turning back around.

“I just told her one of my friends thinks she’s cute.”

Michael blinked, nervous.

“Point is,” Willy continued, “That that was obviously untrue. I mean, she’s cute, but she never even thought twice about it. Didn’t even turn around. Said she’d rather not and stayed standing with you.”

“That proves nothing.”

“It proves she’s not looking at other people.”

“Barely. You’re clutching at straws.”

Willy rolled his eyes, “Okay. But you better do something about it before someone else comes along and she chooses them, okay? Because it’ll happen.”

—

You were about ninety percent sure that you were one of the only people in the entire cafe who didn’t have a hangover right now. It might have something to do with the fact that you hadn’t had much to drink last night because you wanted to be as sober as possible just to soak in as much of Michael as you could and actually have a chance of remembering it.

You had no idea when you’d see him next. He was leaving for a training camp in a few days and you had a feeling the next time you’d see each other you’d be in Pittsburgh, all being well. You still had to sort out your paperwork and the whole visa situation still had to come through before anything could happen, but other than that, both of your timelines were one giant question mark.

That seemed to weigh on you heavily now you were sitting opposite each other. His hair was slightly scruffy, none of the gel in from earlier, and he had bags under his eyes – a telltale sign of his own hangover.

He’d acted weirdly last night. You couldn’t really put it into words, but since walking into that bar it was like he wasn’t entirely there all the time. Like he was distracted. He kept checking his phone, and before he’d met up with you for breakfast he’d appeared with a gift bag with a book in it and smiled each time he caught sight of it.

You had a horrible feeling that he was seeing someone. It’d make sense, even if it did come as a bit of a shock considering the four week mark, but who could blame him? He was a catch if you did say so yourself. 

You’d tried to put the bubbling anxiety at that idea to the back of your mind, but the more you looked at him, it only felt weirder. 

“How’s Carolina?” 

The touch of his fingers ghosted your shoulder, a blazing reminder from the night before.

You blinked, goosebumps rising on your skin at the mere memory. What the fuck?

He looked up, nodding with a grin, “I love it so far. I’ve met up with some of the guys that stayed in Raleigh and I’m getting along with everyone well so far. It’s really pretty there, too. How’s Toronto treating you without me?”

You flicked your food over on your plate, “As well as it usually does. It’s quieter, though.”

The conversation wasn’t anything you hadn’t already talked about over text or FaceTime; it was something you kept coming back to when you just wanted to hear him talk. You weren’t entirely sure when that had started. You paused. You’d done for months, even back when he was in Toronto.

This time, when he answered, he leaned closer over the table, and for a brief moment you thought he was going to admit a secret or pick something off your face, but when you looked up he was doing It again.

And this time you didn’t shy away from it. In fact, if the spike in heart rate was anything to go by, you revelled in the attention. And the revelation just took your breath away.

“I know this might sound weird…” He trailed off, eyes carefully gliding over features, and although you didn’t know it was possible, your heart rate skyrocketed, the pounding tingling the tips of your fingers and causing a raucous rushing in your ears. Without even realising it, you’d leant closer across the table, too, the only thing separating the two of you being the condiments rack.

He seemed taken aback at your proximity, eyes widening and his mouth stuttering, “I do miss you, y’know.” He whispered, cheeks reddening almost immediately.

You blinked, allowing your mind to digest the gravity of his admission. Something happened: it felt like something in your brain sighed or something in your chest loosened, something you weren’t even sure existed suddenly being clicked to life, and you smiled shyly. You were completely unfamiliar with what it was or what it meant, but you knew there was a point of no return: you’d be chasing whatever this was for the rest of your life, without a doubt.

Where you’d felt jilted moments earlier, something evened out – it felt smooth, there was no ache when you breathed, and your mind cleared, the only thing on repeat…him. 

Oh.

There was a zing straight down your spine, and you shivered at the feeling of it.

“I’m gonna say something even weirder…” Your voice came out shaky, shakier than you’d initially like it to be, and he automatically glanced at your mouth because of it, “I miss you too.”

He blinked, stifling a grin by placing his hand over his mouth, and you took the opportunity to change the subject, not wanting to dwell on anything too long for fear of what it could mean, what it could lead to, “Are you gonna let your hair grow out?”

He pulled a face, his hand moving to his hair self-consciously, “You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it.”

“What about the beard?”

You hesitated, “I…Do you want my opinion?”

He pulled a face, like you were crazy for even asking, “I literally asked to get your opinion.”

“Keep it like that, then.”

“What’s this about my hair, though?”

“Nothing.” You breathed a laugh, wondering how an innocent question led to this entire ordeal, “You look good.”

Silence.

His cutlery clinked against his plate as he looked up, your own hand frozen midair around your cup of coffee, him staring at you incredulously and you staring at a stain on the table, a little too afraid to look at him. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t acted like you’d told him a monumental piece of news that’s changed the entire trajectory of his life. It also shouldn’t be too much of a big deal because he’d told you you looked beautiful before, and that hadn’t been an issue.

You broke first, taking a sip and mustering the courage to look at him once more, raising your eyebrows at the utterly shocked look on his face.

“I look good?” He reiterated, speaking each syllable with his entire body. His breathing was shallow, and for a moment you worried if he was about to pass out.

“Yeah.” This time it was your turn to act like he was crazy for asking, “You always look good.”

He breathed a mirthless laugh that bled easily into one of amusement as he pointed a finger at you, “You were so checking me out last night.”

You blinked, replying blankly, “If you’d have left it five more seconds I’d have lost my mind.”

He grinned mischievously, risking a wink, “Duly noted.”

You rolled your eyes, scratching your eyebrow to try and hide your face with your hand as you stacked your plate on top of his, “You ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

For some reason you hadn’t pushed yourself up and out of your chair very quickly. By the time Michael had tucked his chair under the table and was standing next to yours, his head turned to the side – distracted – you’d only just finished tidying up the table. And because his attention had been stolen, and because he was standing so close to your chair, when you finally did make a move to stand up…

His head snapped in your direction, the sudden motion making you flinch backwards, legs bumping awkwardly against the table, and his hand shot out, flattening against your back. If you were more honest you’d have said you didn’t need the stability: all you’d done was knock your calves against the wooden legs – but the sudden, unprompted touch on the small of your back had you freezing where you were, breath hitching in your chest against your will. 

You were watching his face before, trying to pick out exactly what had caught his eye, but this time you could see when the realisation of what had happened set in: his mouth parted like he was about to say something, and his eyes were wide – probably slightly alarmed at the almost-stumble he’d seen in his periphery – and was, for lack of better words, practically hugging you to him. You were forced (though there wasn’t a single cell in your body that felt reluctant) to catch yourself in his arms to prevent yourself from being catapulted straight into him. 

He wasn’t wearing a hat. Usually he did, but today he’d left the hotel room without one, and you’d never really thought twice about it or missed its presence more than you did at that moment. A hat would have given you space to think, time to not spend looking straight at him, time to not fantasise about what would happen if either of you happened to lean in at the same time, but–

He’d folded first, his gaze flicking down to your mouth for a brief moment before returning to your eyes, the palm on your back not wavering one bit. He didn’t even take a step back to let you stand up properly, but instead stood there, holding you, waiting. Waiting for some indication from you that, yes, it’s okay to close the gap.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, and you were sure he could feel it against your ribs if he concentrated hard enough, but you couldn't bring yourself to focus on that for too long. Not when the sight of him in front of you was so enticing.

You inhaled quickly, wanting to say something but not quite finding the words, and he waited once more. He only seemed to do something when you chanced a glance at his mouth, not even intending to, but also not doing anything to stop yourself from sneaking a look, and his head dipped–

“Oh, hey guys.”

It happened quickly and a lot less clumsily as to how it had started: Michael blinked at the sudden interruption, seamlessly stepping backwards and pulling you with him, his hand dropping from your back once you were safely on your feet. You were a little slower, only managing to keep your breaths even and to turn your attention away from him in time to see exactly who it was that had just shown up.

Only, your bewilderment and vertigo increased when you set your eyes on the familiar figure taking a seat on the table next to yours, completely and utterly oblivious to what almost transpired. 

Sidney Crosby was sitting grinning in your direction, and your mind went blank for a whole host of different reasons. The main one being Sidney Crosby was grinning at you. You were vaguely aware of Michael’s hurried motions, placing your hat on top of your head after a quick greeting. You heard your name, and you smiled politely. 

Your face didn’t feel like your own, you were aware of moving your cheek muscles, but everything felt strangely foreign.

And then Sid was looking at your cap, and suddenly you were back in your own body.

“Cool hat.” He pointed, leaning sideways on his chair, and your smile broadened.

“Yeah, Pittsburgh Penguins, maybe you’ve heard of them?”

He laughed, feet kicking slightly under the table, and you felt Michael stiffen next to you, “I don’t think I’m familiar, no. They any good?”

You shrugged, “Won a couple of cups, made us locals proud. There’s this guy, Sidney Crosby, he’s pretty cool.”

He pretended to pull a face, “Oh, I know that guy.” He sighed, shaking his head.

“You don’t like him?”

“Hate that guy.” 

***

“What the fuck.” Taylor all but yelped through the screen once you’d done a quick rehash of events, before falling completely silent, her head in her hands.

You nodded, “I know. I got Sidney Cros–”

“Fuck Sidney Crosby, babe. With all due respect, fuck that guy.”

You swallowed, “Yeah, okay.”

“What are you gonna do about Michael?”

“We haven’t really talked since the wedding.” You mumbled sadly.

***

A meal was all you had. In three months, all you managed to snag of his time was a home cooked meal in your new apartment, and even then he couldn’t stay for more than a few hours. You didn’t just have to worry over the fact that things had clearly changed since the wedding, but you had to worry about cooking him a meal that adhered to his plan of what he could and couldn’t eat, and it had to be edible.

So, it was safe to say you were feeling a lot of pressure. Cooking at work was completely different to cooking at home: not only were you usually too exhausted to even cook something that nice when you got in, but there was something personal about cooking for people you know. It always felt like they were judging what you’d made, trying to decide if you were good at your job or not. Sometimes it felt like a make or break deal. If they didn’t like your food, they wouldn’t like you.

And while that had never been the case for Michael, tonight felt different. For starters, it felt like you’d had to fight tooth and nail to even get him to come over for a few hours, which was new. 

In all honesty, you were even hesitant in the entire…ordeal. Because that’s what it was, really, it wasn’t a quick catch-up, it was an ordeal. The last time you’d felt this nervous was when you were back in school, and gosh you didn’t miss the feeling at all.

He knocked three times and you had to stop stirring the pasta (shocker!) sauce to answer the door.

“Hey.” He sighed, flashing a tired smile, and in that instant all your anxieties seemed to diminish. They hadn’t disappeared completely, but it was as though the volume had been turned down, and you could breathe easily.

“Hi.” You answered almost breathlessly, and his brows jumped up his forehead in amusement, the small crinkle of a smile making an appearance, “I feel bad for pestering you now. You look exhausted.”

He shook his head, “Don’t, I’m glad I came.”

And then he did something he’d never done to you before: he leaned in and he pressed a delicate kiss on your cheek. The exact place he’d touched with his lips seemed to flame before you even registered what he’d done, and in that same moment, you were catapulted back to Toronto. Tucked next to each other under a blanket, an episode of The Mentalist on, both of you utterly immersed in the plot. 

You blinked, not entirely sure where that had come from, and grinned, his scent filling your senses, soon to bleed into your apartment and your couch and your cushions. The one thing you loved about having him around was that you could tell he’d been here even days later: whether it be the faint smell of his cologne when you sat down or the plants that had been purposefully switched around on the windowsill – something you tended to notice when you finally crashed, and it never failed to put a smile on your face. 

“This place is adorable.” He commented, easing himself onto the couch, feet up and reorganising the cushions around him, and all you could do was stand off to the side, simply watching him get settled.

“Adorable wasn’t what I was going for.” 

“What were you going for?”

“Cosy.”

He hummed, tearing his eyes away from you to have another quick glance around, “It’s that too.” And then he rounded back to you, still hanging around in between the living room and the kitchen, not really wanting to leave him alone but much too devoted to the food to even think about asking him to follow you in there, “How are you doing?”

You shrugged, “I’m really happy here.”

He fell asleep straight after he finished eating.

***

His stuff was everywhere: boxes and bags stacked and piled and thrown in the right rooms; zips unzipped and lids open, objects and clothes and cutlery scattered across floors like he’d picked up a handful and left a trail of nuts for you to track his steps. 

It was a mess, but it was a reassuring mess. You hadn’t really believed him until he’d shown up at the airport, and even then it had taken three days for you to actually comprehend the luck of it all. It took you fourteen minutes to walk to his apartment, now. Not over an hour on the plane, not counting the taxis and waiting for your luggage.

Quite frankly, it blew your mind.

It had taken you so long to adjust to even being friends with him, to then adjusting to him moving to Raleigh when you were still in Toronto, to then adjusting to you in Pittsburgh and him still in Raleigh…and now you were both in Pittsburgh and it had taken you approximately three days to get used to it. Not weeks, not months where you’d keep forgetting you couldn’t just show up outside his apartment.

You’d caught yourself laughing at it on more than one occasion.

For now, though, despite the welcome mess (as proof of life), you were looking straight at him. You’d caught yourself doing that a lot lately, but there was a reason this time – not just a genuine wonder at his mere presence. 

He walked back into the room, arms stretched out in front of him, clearly assessing the new jersey, and you swore, right then and there, that you’d never loved him more. For all his shit-talking on the Pens over the years, he was now wearing their jersey, much to your appreciation.

“I like it.” You spoke first from your position on his couch, your arm in the box of merch and kit he’d been given (he’d allowed you to have free reign over some of the items, all you had to do was ask him first), your teeth briefly scraping over your bottom lip. It wasn’t the first time he’d worn a black jersey, but it was the first time he’d worn one with a Penguin on the front and yellow text that spelt his name on the back, “A lot.”

You were grinning, and when he looked up to see you shaking with glee, he shook his head, huffing an amused laugh, “Of course you do.”

“I still don’t think I’ve gotten used to you not wearing blue yet, though.” You muttered, and he nodded, mouth flattening but face somehow still smiling.

“I do miss it, but I think I’m getting used to it.” He shrugged, before grabbing the front of the jersey by the NHL logo and chucking it off his shoulders and throwing it straight at your face, “You can keep that one if you want, I’m not short of any.” You heard him say, his voice slightly muffled by the fabric, and you pulled it from over your eyes, hand wrapped in the material – to see his cheeks flush at your expression. It seemed to worsen when you dropped your eyes to his bare torso.

“Thanks.” You averted your eyes quickly, instead focusing on smoothing the jersey out in your lap, fingers tracing the penguin before flipping it over for his name. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him reach into the box next to you and pull out a few t-shirts before a cap was in his hands and he was brandishing the logo in your face.

“Have you seen one of these before?” He asked, pointing to the circular black and yellow logo: the Pens motif was in the top half of the circle with two crossed-over sticks in the bottom half, and you shook your head.

“I don’t think so.”

He spun it around in his fist, eyes flicking from the hat to your face, “You want it?”

You hesitated, “Are you sure you’re allowed to let me have some of this stuff? I feel like they’re giving you different kits because you’re actually part of the organisation and that normal people aren’t supposed to have them.”

He blinked, jaw clenching as he took in your words. And before you could even say anything else, he placed the hat rather lopsidedly on top of your head and rifled back through the pile of clothes for the sheet of paper before throwing himself down next to you, the piece of paper held out so you could read it too.

You felt a bit pathetic at how quickly you felt your pulse start to pick up at the contact: his entire torso was leant against your shoulder, and although it meant you got an unobstructed view of…everything, and although you appreciated it, at the same time it felt a bit cruel. Like dangling a bone in front of a dog.

“It doesn’t say I can’t give it away.” He mumbled, turning to face you, his forehead bumping the brim of the cap. You blinked in surprise, but didn’t miss the way his eyes just casually flickered down to your lips, or the way his hand dropped down, still clutching the sheet, once he realised you’d not actually been looking at the words.

He’d caught you looking at him.

You cleared your throat, cheeks flaring but not too ashamed considering  you’d just caught him looking at you, and his eyes zipped back to your face, an awkward silence ensuing. Neither of you moved. You didn’t know if you were too scared to ruin the moment or if you were physically frozen by what could have happened – could still happen. Stillness seemed to be key. His breath was fanning softly against your face, and you were sure the same went for you. 

It was eerily similar to the whole Sid-situation. Only this time you were in the privacy of his own home, he was notably shirtless and the risk of getting interrupted was low, but not entirely zero.

You felt your own lips part at the same time his head moved an inch closer as though he was testing the waters, but before you could even think about leaning in, his mouth was moving.

What?

His cheeks reddened, and the blush seemed to travel down his neck and bleed into his collarbones, his attention now flicking between you and something off to the side, clearly too nervous to even look at you and speak.

“I asked if you were free on Thursday?” He whispered, his gaze travelling back down to the piece of paper still in his hand.

He hadn’t moved away from you but the stab of disappointment at the lack of his attention and the realisation that he’d chosen not to kiss you was profoundly disturbing. You didn’t like it, the way you practically yearned for him. The idea that your enjoyment in life was tied to what a random man did or didn’t do was absurd, and if you were being honest with yourself, you did feel a bit pathetic that you’d let it get to that point.

He was your best friend, for fuck’s sake. You weren’t supposed to actually fall in love with him – that was something that only happened in the movies or in novels. 

But…he was kind, he was funny, he was charming, he clearly cared for you. 

Did he feel the same way? It was impossible to tell in your eyes. Sure, it had just looked like he wanted to eat you, and you’d caught him looking at you like you hung the entire galaxy before, but who’s to say he didn’t look at other people like that?

And in all honesty, you’d spent so much time trying to not look at him that you’d given him plenty of opportunities to (if he did) sneak glances at you when you weren’t looking.

You sighed, folding the jersey, acting like his skin on your forearm wasn’t burning. Like you were completely normal being in his presence, “I should be, yeah. How come?”

He raised a brow, shyly turning back to you, “I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

Something fluttered in your chest – it felt an awful lot like hope, and when you answered, your voice sounded off. You weren’t breathless, so to say, but your voice cracked and sounded ropey to your own ears, “Go out where?”

The question almost felt futile, especially with the wry smile he just sent your way. You had a feeling, but even thinking the feeling out loud in your head felt like you were about to jinx it, so you fought to keep your mind quiet. Everything else though (heart rate, blood rushing, the feel of his fingers tapping rhythmically against the inside of your wrist), that was loud. 

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheek when he looked down at where he was delicately touching your wrist. His motions stopped, but the warmth never left.

“With me, I was hoping.” He didn’t look at you as he spoke, and you held your breath the entire time, a part of you wanting to make sure you’d just heard him correctly and weren’t imagining it, “Like a date.”

“A date.” You echoed, flipping your wrist over completely so your palm was pointing to the ceiling. He didn’t tear his eyes away from your hand, but you could feel his heart thumping through his back from where he’d pressed himself against your shoulder and a smile fell naturally on your face. It wasn’t a big smile, but it was soft. The kind of smile that was only ever really reserved for him.

His hand didn’t falter in its motions as he dragged his fingers down the inside of your wrist to swirl a pattern on your palm, fingers tracing the lines and creases gently. 

It took everything in you not to scream.

He just hummed, and when you tore your gaze away from the side of his face – he wasn’t giving much away – his chest was thumping in time with his pulse. Was it possible for nerves to make him catatonic? You’d never seen him this nervous yet so calm and collected at the same time.

You inhaled, feeding your starved lungs, and tried not to shudder when his fingers slowed only to tangle and interlock with yours. It was like he was testing it out, seeing how you fit together, whether your personalities blended as well as your bodies did–

You felt yourself blush at that insinuation, and squeezed his hand, prompting him to look at you instead of away.

He did so slowly, first peeking at you out of the corner of his eye with a small breath of relief when he saw you weren’t annoyed. Then he turned his entire head towards you, leaning back so he wouldn’t knock into the hat again, and his mouth twisted, still awaiting your reply.

“Have you been wanting to ask that for a while, or…”

His stare went blank, and you could tell her was trying not to roll his eyes at your teasing questions, obviously stalling to get a rise out of him. It was working, “Put me out of my misery first.”

“Okay.”

He blinked, leaning forwards slightly, “Okay I’ll go on a date or okay I’ll put you out of your misery?”

“Both.”

He smiled, using his free hand to swipe at his nose and look away briefly, flustered. His chest was still pink and blotchy and you nudged him playfully with your elbow, “Your turn.”

“Uh…” He hesitated, “maybe, like, since you told me I don’t look like a Michael.”

You stared at him, jaw unhinged and dropped in shock, “But that was–”

“Two-ish years ago, yeah.” He nodded, pulling a face at himself, “What can I say? You charmed me.”

“But I was rude to you..” 

“I wouldn’t say rude–”

“I wanted you to not like me.”

He froze, “You did?”

“Yeah.”

“It had the opposite effect.”

And then you laughed. Right in his face, not very loudly, but you laughed at him altogether, “You liked me when I couldn’t stand you, I would’ve said no.”

He rolled his eyes, flicking the underside brim of the cap he’d given you, “Good job I held out then, isn’t it? At what point would you have said yes?”

“When you left for Raleigh.”

“Wow.”

“You gotta remember, I was in a relationship for a while–”

“Oh, that guy.” He muttered, bitterly, "I think I blocked that out-"

You interrupted him, leaning closer to briefly press your mouth against his, effectively shutting him up. Even at the brief contact, and even as you were pulling away you could feel the relief of it dissipate from your shoulders, like a worn out elastic band had finally snapped. You paused, a breath away from him, and his eyes slowly blinked open having tried to chase your mouth.

Even despite that, he still maintained his grin, "That's a good tactic." He muttered, hand sliding up the side of your neck as his thumb slid gently and delicately across your jawbone. His eyes zeroed in on the motion, clearly enjoying the way your skin reacted to his touch, goosebumps rising to the surface and eliciting a shiver of pleasure from you.

It was barely three second of contact, but it had changed your genetic makeup.

He was addictive, even the smug look on his face as he pressed his forehead against yours, chin bumping towards yours. You held you breath in anticipation, eyes instinctively fluttering shut - it was difficult to ignore the pounding of your heart or the tingling beneath his fingers.

"Noted." You breathed, unable to help smiling at his tone, "You gonna make me wait until Thursday now-"

"It's rude to keep a lady waiting." Was his answer.

[valley-of-headcanons]

I just stumbled across your blog and I really love your headcanons! If you had the time, I was wondering if you could do the bachelors reacting to a mute farmer?

bachelors with a mute!farmer || headcanons

being mute isn't as hard when you have these considerate men around <3

warning: this is under the assumption that the reader cannot speak at all! all include sign language as a form of communication :) other warnings are that certain townies are VERY SLIGHTLY ableist (jodi, george). take this whole story with a grain of salt, as i am not mute! i tried my hardest, however, please let me know if something is wrong/offensive/just straight up stupid! i'd love to learn where i went wrong :)

requested by: anon, thank you so much for requesting! and i deeply apologize for the fact that this took around a year to come out ... oopsie daisy ... my stardew valley hyperfixation went bye bye but guess who's backkkk?? anyway! here you go, better late than never :)

alex

• Alex honestly had no idea what to do when he realized that you were mute. He had no idea what to do, and you saw it on his face. He wanted to interact with you, you looked pretty interesting, but ... he had no idea where to start. So, you offered to teach him sign. He was surprised to see that you had that much faith in him, and he rejected initially, but ... he really wanted to have a new friend. It seemed like you were a genuine person, and he needed that in his life. So he did.

• You taught him sign, and this was probably one of the hardest things he's done. He believes he's not very bright, so he's incredibly nervous. But he works so hard for you! He didn't really know why he did, as you were just a new neighbor. Maybe you could be more? You could be a true friend! That's what he's looking forward to the most.

• As he began getting fluent and he learned more about you, the more he enjoyed being around you. Someone actively took a chance on him, and he's forever grateful. He opened up a lot to you, and you reassured him through all of it. He was the smartest person you knew because of how well he picked up sign ... he cried a little bit, although he really doesn't want to admit that.

• He realized how close you've gotten, and how his feelings haven't stopped growing for you. So, he had to do something about it! A soft, well-candlelit dinner was prepared for you, and he asked you out fully through sign! He had worked so hard on preparing a fully thought-out speech through sign for you ... it was so incredibly sweet. He really does love you.

• Alex was incredibly defensive of you, and would probably fight anyone who tried him. He even had several arguments with George. He wasn't the most supportive and definitely had some comments, especially since he literally couldn't see the sign ... but through Alex, he was convinced. Everything was fine, especially with Alex doing his best to convince those around him.

• Overall, Alex loves you and it shows. It shows through every piece of sign that he learns, every action that he does for you, and everything that he says to you and others. He adores every aspect of you, and he loves your bravery and your amazing soul. He can't get enough of you.

elliot

• Elliot is definitely a romantic, and when you didn't respond to his minor flirting, he was very confused. But when he realized you were mute, he dramatically gasped and apologized, basically dropping to his knees. He felt horrible, and promised to make it up to you.

• For a while, you talked back and forth through letters, since he was often stuck at home writing. He finds that he can write a lot more through his letters to you than he can his own book. Isn't that strange? He brings it up to you in one of his letters, and he eventually invites you over to his cabin. He bounces ideas for his book off of you, and strangely, it's so much easier to communicate with you ... how strange.

• He ends up learning sign for you in his free time, although it takes a while due to his busy schedule. He still prefers to write letters to you, it seems much more personal and definitely more romantic. He eloquently writes about his life and inquires you about yours.

• Elliot realizes that maybe this situation isn't just romantic to be romantic ... maybe there were feelings underneath, feelings that Elliot had never truly felt before. He ended up writing poetry about you, pages and pages. He can't get you out of his head! He had to let you know. You found out through a book of poetry sitting in your mailbox, and after reading through it, it was undeniable that it was about you. He was infatuated ... and so were you.

• He's incredibly protective of you, making sure to keep you out of harm's way as much as possible. If anyone were to say so much as one hateful word to you, he'd make a scene. With his dramatic flare, he'd declare them an imbecile and swoop you away to a safe place. It's in his nature, did you think anything less?

• Elliot'e romantic side has never been greater than with you. Romance and genuine feelings have always been apart in his mind, but they've both culminated in a beautiful love with you. He doesn't mind your muteness, he finds it beautiful and inspiring. You're his muse, of course.

harvey

• Harvey is incredibly understanding, and he tried his best to understand you as much as possible! He has no problem learning how to communicate with you and how to help you out as much as possible! He's the most understanding of your condition, and asks many questions about how and why you're this way. Not in a hateful way or anything, he just wants to understand you fully!

• As your doctor, he's definitely concerned for your health at first, but his nerves are calmed eventually. He slowly works toward getting to know you despite your condition, and he loosens up a little bit. He's so sweet and kind toward you, and he can't believe he's befriended someone as lovely as you.

• He opens up about his color blindness soon enough, and how debilitating it can seem. You bond over that, and he finds it easy to open up to you. He's used to being the listener, it's literally his profession, but it's nice to be listened to for once.

• Harvey realized this was a lot more than just a friendship, due to his heart racing when he's around you ... wow. He didn't expect this, and he really doesn't know how to act on it. But as you two hang out on the pier of the beach one night, he can't help but admire you instead of the stars. You notice, and he can't hide it anymore. He asks so nervously if you feel the same way he does. You answer with a gentle kiss on his cheek. He melts.

• He is very defensive of your condition, if someone says anything slightly derogatory, he will go off on a medical tangent. He justifies everything with an array of medical terms, enough to put anyone at a loss for words. Once Harvey silences the other person, he apologizes heavily, but still defends his love.

• Harvey loves you, and it shows through his concern for you and his deep affection for you. You're such an amazing and brave person, and he admires every bit of it. He admires you more than anything, and he would reshape the world if it meant to keep you safe.

sam

• Sam, despite his loud and energized nature, doesn't mind the fact that you're mute! He finds interacting with you regulating, in some kind of way. He has to calm down a bit to concentrate on communicating effectively with you. He enjoys talking to someone who has such a different viewpoint on life!

• Sam actually knew sign language before he met you! While in the war, Kent had sent a letter home that he had gone have deaf due to the constant noise of the war. Jodi then forced her family to learn sign language as soon as possible, so communicating with him was incredibly easy!

• Being able to actually use his sign language is actually pretty fun! He's very fluent, and he enjoys seeing your personality through your sign. He also enjoys your personality in general, how you overcome not speaking and your bravery. He finds that you both enjoy music, and it's a major bonding point between the two of you.

• Showing each other different songs that you enjoy was a staple of your hangout sessions. He finds those evenings the ones that he looks forward to the most, watching you smile and bop your head to the music. It's soft, it's sweet, it's ... lovely. As his feelings approach him, he can't get you out of his head ... his writer's block comes to an end. Eventually, he ends up playing a song for you. The love that he has for you is evident through the lyrics. And then ... a soft kiss as the song goes on, you would probably scream in joy if you could.

• His mom is ... not the most fond of you being mute. He doesn't really care, as he mostly just ignores her. He loves her but good god, her views ... so, he chooses your friendship more than anything. And when you two travel to something more, he chooses that over the relationship with his mother. She has a few passive aggressive comments, but she eventually gets over it enough to only give you a few side-eyes.

• Despite every hardship, Sam loves you. Every aspect of you is perfect in his eyes, and he wouldn't change anything about you. Sam adores your wonderful personality, despite not ever really hearing a voice behind your wonderful words. He doesn't care, you're you, and that's what matters.

sebastian

• Sebastian is the most quiet of all of the bachelors, so it makes sense that he would be naturally drawn to someone with a similar vibe. He doesn't mind the fact that you don't speak, and he finds ways to adjust.

• At first, he doesn't put too much effort into learning sign language to communicate. He doesn't see the reason why, you're just another person in town. But after Sam started speaking to you through sign language and you crossed paths more ... he decided to, why not?

• After talking to you, he realized that you have a lot in common. This makes him excited to finally have someone to relate to, and more and more, he asks you to hang out. Most of the time you end up doing things together in silence, but when you do talk, it's deep and personal.

• Falling for you was not his intention and came out of absolutely no where. He thought he was destined to spend the rest of his life shrouded in darkness, but this one quiet beam of light pulled him out of that. Huh. How odd. It took a lot of mutual pining for this to come to the surface, however. You called out that he accidentally used the sign for “I love you” when saying goodbye ... his pale face went bright red. Safe to say, you didn't say goodbye that evening. A long talk and a kiss goodnight, you two ended up together. As you should be.

• He doesn't really give the time of day to the people who don't understand you. A deep side eye and an aggressive sigh usually escape him, but he tells you not to worry about it. He shows you that he loves you no matter what, and “people fucking suck.”

• Sebastian relates heavily to you, and really loves you. He can't believe he's found someone who relates to him so well, but also has such a kind and genuine soul. He loves you more than life itself and enjoys your company more than anything on this planet.

shane

• Shane is probably the most guarded person in Stardew Valley, and it shows when he meets you. He could care less about you at first, pretty much ignoring your every movement. He doesn't really care that you're mute, he just doesn't care about you period. He's not really there yet, mentally.

• However, things change when you offer him a beer. He's confused by your kindness, and you can't really explain yourself because he doesn't understand sign. His curiosity is piqued. So, he asks Marnie if she knows any sign, and she refers him to Jodi, who eventually refers him to Sam. He hates the idea of having to work with Sam, but he can't help himself. He was too curious.

• After picking up a bit, he ends up offering you a beer in solidarity. He then thinks for a moment before showing the sign for beer. Your excitement warms his rather cold heart ... that's new. He just communicates by speaking, but he can read sign, so that seems like enough in his eyes.

• He finds it easy to talk to you, as you're such an interesting and perseverant person. It inspires him to begin working on himself. He pushes himself to work hard ... for you. Huh. Then, as if the sky was falling around him, he realized he was falling for you. He began pushing you away, until you basically cornered him at the bar. You took him to a private room where he rambled on about how perfect you were and how he was just going to ruin you. You eventually just signed “love ?” He looked like a scared child and just nodded. He signed “I love you” with shaking hands. But of course, so did you.

• His assholery is on full display when someone tries to come at you. He doesn't do it as eloquently or kind as some others, he just curses and insults until they shut their trap. They have no room to talk in his eyes.

• Despite his cold nature, Shane really does love you. He has no problems with your nature and sees it as a contrast to his own nature. He finds that enamoring and beautiful, unlike himself. He's working on himself, for you.

[godisshook]

there was this total average looking guy in my freshman orientation group, but now it’s finals in spring term and he’s somehow bigger than even the seniors on campus? I started hearing some people saying he’s now a total alpha, but he just asked/told me to come to this end of year party he’ll be at!

You were nervous about freshman year in college, being away from family, and having to go at it alone would be a big change of pace, but you were up for the challenge. A sense of nervousness overcame you as you became more and more aware, but you were brought back to reality as the orientation leader in the front said, “You all will now be placed in groups, check the number on the back of your name tag for your group number!” When you turn the tag around, you see a number 9, and walk over to the advisor waving a sign with the same number. You were placed in a group with nine others, who all looked either confused as to everything, or wanting to leave already. Then along came Leo.

He was unassuming and barely talked throughout orientation, but you initiated a conversation with him, hoping to make at least a new friend before the year started. He smiled at you the whole time, clearly appreciating that someone walked up to him. Orientation seemed to pass by much faster, and you two talked throughout.

Before orientation ended, he put his number in your phone, telling you to keep in touch, and you obliged. As the semester began, the stress of school made it hard to keep your promise, and you two started talking less and less.

As the semester came to a close, you started preparing to go back home for spring break. You wished your friends goodbye for the semester, but the thought of Leo still lingered on your mind. Those thoughts began to subside as you pack your last bag into your car. Not wanting to stop talking to him completely, you texted Leo occasionally, checking on him from time to time, but he seemed to always be busy.

Spring break was coming to a close, and as you prepared to return, you were excited for a new semester and the experiences it would hold. One of your friends walks up to you and urgently says, "OMG, look at this."

The guy was hot, but ultimately he didn't look too familiar. Your friend smiles at your confusion, and finally reveals, "It's Leo." You could only stand there stunned. While Leo definitely wasn't scrawny, he wasn't the biggest guy in the freshman class, but now he was bigger than most seniors! As if they knew what you were thinking, your friend says, "I know, everyone was surprised too, he walked on campus and his shirt would barely fit!" You hoped to see him just once, and you spent the whole day looking through his Instagram, seeing as his body began changing, becoming bigger and bigger. After you got hard in Biology class, you decided that your exploration through his feed would have to be put on pause until you were in a more decent area.

When you finally got home, you could only think about him. He was always cute to you, but he was now among the hottest guys on campus. you could only think one thing, "Were those springtime chats enough?" You thought you had missed your shot, had you just talked to him more, had you reached out more, maybe, just maybe...

Breaking you away from your spiral was a notification. Your phone pinged, and it was a new snap from Leo.

As you opened the photos, your jaw dropped. The photos were as close to explicit as he could get, and you stayed on each picture, absorbing his form. Your eyes wandered down each photo, taking in each element of it, including his not-so-hidden bulge. Before you could even respond to what was maybe the hottest thing you've ever seen, Leo starts typing. "There's gonna be this end-of-year party at the lake this Saturday." Looking at the text, you try to formulate a response, was it an invitation, if it was, why didn't he tell you to be there?

Leo says, "I want you to come with me." There was the ticket, the reply you needed. You wouldn't dream of saying no, so you agreed. "Good, and just know that you would be coming as my boyfriend." You pinched yourself, certain you were simply having the best dream of your life. No pinch could remove that text from your gaze, and you replied, "I wouldn't have it any other way." Each day felt like years as anticipation for the party was building. Classes felt like simple distractions against what could happen on Saturday. Your imagination soon went wild, and With Saturday finally here, you got into your best pool fit, and waited for him to pick you up.

The two of you would catch up in the car, with you thinking that he didn't like you, and him reassuring you that he was truly just busy, and you could clearly see the results. He would stop his car on a back road near the lake and would lead you towards the party. Your friend was already there, and you went with them, splitting from Leo. Things went well as you mingled with the other party goers, and reveled in the time-out. After a while, you began looking for Leo, wanting to at least get a dance in with him. It didn't take long to find him, as he seemed to be searching for you as well. With you two back together, he asked, "Do you wanna go to the other side?" As you were pondering the question, you noticed the boats on the lake, and one, with his friends on it, looking over at you. When you eye them, they look away, clearly caught in the act. Thinking a little fun couldn't hurt, you obliged, waved bye to your friend (who was actively kissing someone), and got on the boat.

The boat sped on the water, with you getting splashed occasionally, as the driver began doing tricks in the water to impress his friends. Soon it was explained that one of Leo's friends owns all the properties near the lake, and just rents out some of them. You couldn't imagine any place better to party, and you continued to enjoy the ride, as Leo began flexing in the back, you laughed and said, "I didn't know I was at a gun show." He replied, "Just for you, of course."

As you all approached the other side of the island, one of Leo's friends slides him a key, and Leo leads you off the boat, following behind you. With you two firmly on the land, the driver yells "Have fun!!!" and sped away, leaving you dumbfounded.

As you got to the other side of the lake, Leo thought it was necessary to continue "The gun show." You didn't mind it at all, whistling and clapping after each flex. As you took in his massive form, he would ask, "Are you gonna come to the show and not try it out?" You closed the distance between you two and started feeling up his body. He looked down at you, his gaze intensifying the moment. You began to truly grasp the situation, as desire flared in his eyes.

It was just you and him, and you appreciated this moment of intimacy. He planted a kiss on your cheek, and you blushed. With you two now being so close, you felt the tension rising between you two. You wanted more than a kiss, and you glanced back at the cabin behind you. Looking at him with sultry eyes, you asked, "How about we take this inside?"

Sharing your sense of urgency, he rushed over to the bathroom to change out of his trunks, and each moment felt like hours. As he came out of the bathroom, you couldn't wait for another second, you pulled him close and began kissing him, with him returning the favor with a fiery passion, taking your body fully into his as he held on to your head, supporting the weight of each intense kiss he shared. You two only split to catch your breaths, and a flurry of tongues and lips moved with what seemed to be desperate urgency.

Knowing you wanted him at the moment, he laid down on the floor, saying, "It'd take too long to get to the bed." You laughed and got to work. First, you planted light kisses on his muscular body, his breath hitching with each kiss. Each hand sought to only make the experience more pleasurable for him, with you feeling him up and down as kisses created a path. Your kisses trailed all the way down to his shorts, where you noticed his cock bulging in his shorts, as if it was waiting for you as well. With his dick pressed against his underwear, you knew it was time, and slowly pulled down his shorts.

He groaned in pleasure as you began sucking him off. His massive cock wouldn't fit in your throat completely, but you managed regardless. Soon, Leo asked the all-important question, "Do you want me?" Your response was quick, "Of course!" Leo, taking advantage of your impatience, would ask, "How do you want me?" Exasperated, you replied, "I want you in me, Leo." "Good answer," he said with a grin on his face. In a flash, Leo had his strong hands on your waist and lifted you in the air, as you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. As he approached the bed, he laid you down gently and began laying kisses on your body, just as you did his. As anticipation and desire swirled around in you, Leo gave you the release you needed. He would grab your waist once more, this time to get you on top of him, setting your ass on his cock.

Slowly, he would put his dick in you, and as every inch started to fill you, you wondered just how big he was. After filling, you completely, he would start slowly lifting you off of him, and then going back down. With the desire in your body reaching a fever pitch, you took drastic action. You placed a hand on the headboard of the bed and started moving your ass up and down, moaning each time as his cock entered you again. He kept your pace, speeding up and grunting as you kept going. He took control again, once again turning you over, with his cock still in you. With you now under him, he would place his hands on the bed near your head, and start thrusting. You could only respond in moans as he fucked you with ferocity. The moment felt like a rush of passion, with your two bodies seeming to merge at the moment. The whole world seemed to disappear around you, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

After what seemed like forever, you two re-emerged from the cabin, with your legs still weak, Leo was essentially holding you upright. As you reunited with the other party goers, it was obvious they knew exactly what happened, and you blushed as your friend gave you a light punch on the arm, beaming at you and Leo.

The next days were a blur, and as things settled, you wanted explanations, of all the people he could have, why you? He put it simply, "Everyone else only talked to me after I got big, you were the only one who cared before that." As realization dawned over you, you were transported back to spring break. While you had thought your check-ups as unproductive, to him, it was the only interaction he had with someone from school the whole time. You smiled at him and hugged him, as he wrapped you in a massive bear hug. You two had become inseparable. The party marked the start of your relationship, and what seemed like a missed opportunity, turned into the situation of your dreams.

[istoleyoursk1n]

How would the boys react to finding out Tav is pregnant? (Post-game)

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

How would the boys react to finding out Tav is pregnant?

(Assuming it was something they didn't exactly plan)

.

.

: ̗̀➛ ASTARION

“Haha! Pregnant? Oh, darling, you truly are going above and beyond with these jokes of yours, aren't you?… Wait, you’re serious-”

Thinks you're messing with him and would laugh it off at first. I mean- there's no way you're telling the truth right?

Freaks the hell out when you are indeed pregnant and it's not you messing with him. (He screamed-)

It's not that he doesn't want to have a child with you, it's just he doesn't think he's prepared himself. He really doesn't think he's capable of having kids.

His initial reactions are shock, anger, worry, and eventual acceptance.

This is his kid too, and he’d be damned if he doesn't at least try to raise it with you. He loves you, he can't ever leave you even after this.

He’d be oddly silent during the first days of your pregnancy, and he’d still be trying to come to terms with how he feels about it all but his usual snarky self comes back in no time.

You’d notice how surprisingly gentle he starts being with you, even afraid to touch you at times. This whole experience is just surreal for him but he's doing his best.

He actually tries to learn how to cook and do other house chores for you (you can hear the man complain from across the house) but despite such complaints, he refuses to let you do it yourself.

He just hopes that he can be a good father to this kid even if he constantly tells himself that he can't.

He keeps calling the baby an ‘it’

: ̗̀➛WYLL

“By the gods, a baby?! And it's ours! I’m going to be a father! The best father this child of ours could ever ask for, love.”

He’s shocked at first but the shock quickly turns into pure joy.

He’s having a kid with you! He’s going to have a family with you!

This is one of the best days of his life! He can hardly stop himself from grinning ear to ear. This is beyond anything he could have asked for.

He’s actually been wanting one for quite some time now, he just never knew how to properly bring it about without making things awkward.

You can tell that at some point he tried holding back tears. He just couldn't believe it, years of suffering and pain had finally led to this.

One moment he's being the grand blade of Avernus and next, he's back home, cooking, cleaning, and doing the laundry for you.

He has this undying need to be the best father he can be for your growing baby, he wants to be present in every moment of his child’s life and not abandon them due to his own bad memories with his father.

He can’t stop going on about what the child may look like and possible names he could name the little guy/gal

You can tell he's going above and beyond for this kid without them even being born yet. You see him decorating rooms for the child, babyproofing the house, and even buying their clothes!

He couldn't have been more prepared for this and he probably has already told all his friends and family. You can't keep this man’s excitement down.

: ̗̀➛GALE

“You’re what? Pregnant? … Wait! You’re pregnant?! Right now?! Well of course right now- but what?!”

Huh?! <— Summing his initial reaction lmao

He zones out for about five seconds before even processing what he just heard.

Looks confused beyond belief but said confusion slowly turns into shock.

‘Who made you preg- oh, it was him’.

It would take him another five seconds to realize just how big of a news drop that is. He seems bewildered if anything else, not at all bothered by your pregnancy but it's quite shocking to hear.

Delighted that he gets to raise a kid with you! He wasn't expecting it at all but he's not against it, it was something that crossed his mind once or twice.

His bewilderment eventually turns into complete awe at the fact that you're bearing his child, and you two are actually going to start a family.

Oh, the amount of things he could teach that child, he could raise the greatest wizard Faerûn had ever seen!

He’s the biggest worrier out of all the boys mentioned here, he keeps coming up with out of pocket scenarios that might happen to the unborn child if he isn't careful.

Worries too much about your health and the baby's health to the point where he insists he does everything else for you.

He doesn't like having you out of his view, he can't afford to let something bad happen to you or the baby.

It's going to take a lot of convincing from you for him to believe that you are fine and capable of doing some of the chores on your own.

You even have sweet Tara nuzzling up against your stomach after hearing the lovely news.

: ̗̀➛HALSIN

“All the things I've ever been given but this, my heart, must be nature’s greatest gift to me, a gift that I will eternally treasure.“

Ecstatic! He’s more than happy that you’re pregnant with his child. It warms his heart so much.

His expression softens more than it ever has, his smile turning almost dream-like the moment you announce the news to him.

All these years alive he never once had a family with someone, he's grateful that he's going to get to experience it with you.

He’s quick to pull you into a gentle embrace, thanking you for gifting him with such an incredible blessing.

Though, you can tell how overprotective he's suddenly being. He follows you around a lot, becoming far more handsy than usual and never leaving you especially if you're walking into crowded places.

Despite his inexperience when it comes to raising a family of his own, he seems surprisingly knowledgeable about your needs and what's best for the child.

He makes your living space as warm and comfortable as possible, giving you all types of herbs to aid with the pregnancy.

He doesn't like you straying too far away from him if you two ever decide to go out and insists that you stay home most of the time. He’ll be the one to bring in the necessary food and groceries for you both.

He’s so enamored by this whole experience that simply watching you as the months go on makes his heart skip a beat. Soon enough, he’ll have a kid of his own.

•❅───────────✧❅✦❅✧───────────❅•

[charlie-lec-stories]

Some Odd Numbers are Even // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Max knows that he's always been in love with his best friend, even if she was driving for the enemy, and he could live with that, but her dating the rival he has a crush on it's where he draws the line.

Warnings: Some angst, but they all take it like champs. Max kisses people when he's drunk. Some sexual comments.

Author’s Note: I had to work on this one a lot to make it fit the theme of the blog, but it motivated me to keep editing my stories, this is the beginning of everything. Rate: +18

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When Max Verstappen met Y/N he was the most hormonal 15 years-old on Earth, or at least that's how his father called him, always running around chasing girls instead of focusing on what was important. He has to admit that his head wasn't filled with the purest thoughts when they got introduced by their mutual friend, Pierre, but when she humiliated all the boys on the track winning by almost twenty seconds, he knew he fell hard. She called him her best friend the second time they hung out and, to Max's dismay, their destiny seemed to have been sealed. Best friends. He hated it, but he would take what he could get. With time, he learned to live with it. She was the first person he told he was feeling "confused", as he initially called it, and then the first he decided to let know that he was bisexual when he finally understood it. He was glad that she took it great and she was kind of surprised that he ever thought she could get mad about him liking people. They enjoyed gossiping around and sharing their opinions on the different people they liked, but he never dared to tell her how he felt about her. She has had at least five boyfriends and countless one-night stands since they met and everything always ended up in heartbreak for her. He spent years wanting to scream "I'm here, just look at me", but she never looked his way, at least not like he wanted. Still, he tried to be supportive, because she still was his best friend and his massive crush on her wasn't her fault. He was supportive when she dated that weird dude from Canada who was obsessed with her hair, when she told him that she wanted to learn how to play the guitar and when she decided that she wanted to drive for Mercedes in F1. He was still a little pissed off that she signed with Mercedes, but he took it like a big boy.

However, there was something they could never see eye to eye about and that something was actually a someone: Charles Leclerc. Max and Charles had quite the history when it came to their relationship, they were rivals above all but, unknown to Charles, the monegasque was also Max's bi awakening when they were 16. The dutch took his time getting there, but he ended up understanding that even though he was constantly wanting to rip Charles' head off, he also find him attractive. Of course, that didn't make Max like the other, he knew the difference between finding someone good looking and liking them at all. Would he have sex with Charles? Probably, in another universe. Did he stopped disliking Charles? No, definitely no. But his best friend adored Charles. Y/N could write a whole encyclopedia about Charles, she was in love with him, but Charles was that unreachable entity that never looked at her as more than Pierre's friend. He was always nice to her, attentive, charming, funny, even warm. He liked her, not the way she liked him, but he liked her anyways. The three of them were trapped in this weird triangle and Max hated it. He hated Charles for getting the attention he wanted and for getting even hotter with time. But for Max things only got worse.

They were all 24 and it was the first time in a long period that the three of them were single simultaneously. Charles had broken up with his girlfriend of two years before the start of the season, Y/N was on a celibacy run since the beginning of the year and Max broke up with his latest boyfriend who he only dated for three months. On the first race of the season he noticed that the Ferrari driver was a recurring character at the Mercedes garage. For a moment, Max thought that Charles was considering moving to Mercedes, but he soon found out that the Ferrari driver had other intentions.

"... And then I said "I'm coming on your camera, mate". Never felt so stupid in my life". Y/N laughed at Charles' story and Max could feel his blood boil inside his veins. "But well, at least I wasn't the one who suggested to milk the goats on Goat Simulator". He added softly looking at George Russell, Y/N teammate, and making the girl giggle.

"Good to know you're funny, Leclerc, now you can make a career in stand-up when you finally fail making one in racing". Charles rolled his eyes and then smirked.

"Look at that, Mr. World Champion is scared of a little competition". Charles taunted him. "What is it, Verstappen? Afraid of me stealing the title this year?"

"Okay, enough of the testosterone battle". Y/N cut them off before Max could reply. "Neither of you got the bigger stick".

"Are you sure about that, Cherie?". Max was five second away from murder. The wink was like playing with fire, but Charles did it anyways. The championship wasn't the only thing he was stealing from Max that year. "Never say things like that without proof".

That same night, around 4 am, Max opened his hotel room to an extremely happy Y/N: "You won't guess who helped me break my celibacy streak". Well... he could guess.

By summer break Charles and Y/N were officially the paddock's favourite couple, for everyone except Max. He was furious about it, and Charles fighting him the championship so closely wasn't exactly helping. Even the fans could see how much Max resented the relationship between his known best friend and rival. Every podium, cool down room and interview that included the two was filled with drama. Petty comments, eyes rolling, arms crossed and even once, Max calling Charles an idiot. But what Max didn't want to admit was that the more he was forced to spend time with Charles, the more he started to like him. He was funny and Max found himself having to suppress a laugh at one of his jokes more than once. He was also extremely good at racing and that was something that Max liked, it was the first thing that made him fall for Y/N in the first place. Also, his best friend was constantly telling him how nice Charles was to her: romantic, loving, caring. And even if Max didn't like it, he could see that Charles actually cared about Y/N, he could see that Charles was in love with her. It broke his heart, it pained him like anything before. He thought he could take it, that he was mature enough to let her go and be happy for her. But he couldn't, so he decided to put some distance, to take care of himself and protect his heart.

The second part of the season was intense. Max won his second championship, but he had put so much distance between him and his best friend that she wasn't there to celebrate with him. She was at the Ferrari garage, hugging a defeated Charles and running her hands up and down his back. The monegasque had the prize that Max wanted the most and, suddenly, the award on his hands wasn't that important. Not when she was there, supporting him. It hurt to watch, her kissing Charles and hugging him tight. Charles smiling at her, nodding his head as he accepted her words of encouragement. She was probably giving him the same speech she gave Max when he first started in F1. "You're more than enough". "Your time will come". "You have what you need to be a champion". He could remember it like it was yesterday when she would ran her fingers through his hair, his head on her lap, softly crying, the ghost of another DNF haunting him. It always worked though, her mumbled sweet words, fixing his broken ego and shattered heart. No matter the distance, Max just couldn't let her go and now he had nothing, not even his best friend. Around Christmas he had come to the conclusion that the main reason why he hated Charles and Y/N's relationship so much was because he didn't know if he wanted to be her to date Charles or be Charles to date her. He liked them both, and if learning he was bi was shocking back in his teenage years, addressing the fact that he liked two people at the same time was even more. So he did what he did best when it was off season, he got drunk. Shit-faced drunk, so wasted that he couldn't remember his own home address.

The red door in front of him was familiar and for a moment he wondered if he actually made it home. That door made him feel home, somehow. He knocked on the door a few times. His head was spinning and thinking hurt his brain. The door swung open, his best friend was looking up at him worried from the other side of it. He didn't think it through, he just grabbed her face and smashed his lips on hers. For a moment, he thought he could feel her kiss back, but as quick as the kiss started, it ended. With a mumbled "You don't know what you're doing" and sad expression on her face, Y/N led him inside and dropped him on the couch. Charles was sitting there, without a shirt and looking at him with a pissed off expression. Max had lost whatever self control he had and the words just started pouring out of his mouth like a river.

"What are you looking at, Leclerc?". He asked, words slurred.

"You just kissed my girlfriend". Charles knew it was pointless to argue with Max on that state, but he was as angry as his face showed.

"Deal with it". Max rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. "And put on a shirt, for fuck's sake, or I'm kissing you too".

For Max, there weren't many feelings worse than a hungover. It was easily on his top 5, along with heartbreak, losing at basically anything, visiting his father and eating tuna, not in that specific order. He did the best he could to look around but the sunlight was burning his eyes off, figuratively, but he felt it literally. The feeling of the furniture underneath him was oddly familiar and the smell in the air was definitely Y/N's. For a moment, he closed his eyes and decided to go back to sleep, satisfied with the feeling of being home. Suddenly, he remembered that he shouldn't be there. Sitting straight up, he found himself ready to throw up from the sudden movement. He took a look at his surroundings, Y/N's home was different from when he last remembered, a few months back. A lot of Ferrari merchandizing adorned the living room and a few framed pictures on the walls showed Charles' smiling face. Max felt the pain in his chest when he noticed that she still had up all of their pictures together. He was the most horrible friend on Earth, she loved him and he pushed her away. A picture in particular caught his attention, it was a podium from the first half of the season, in Silverstone. The three of them got into the podium on that occasion and Max had agreed to take the picture without much drama. Y/N was in the middle and both Max and Charles had their arms around her waist. They all looked genuinely happy. Max couldn't help but feel like he messed everything up, he was the only one to blame for that being the only picture they all had together. The only one, and Y/N had it hanging on her living room like it was a moment as cherished as the other life changing moments hanging on those walls. He couldn't take it anymore, he had to get out of that house. He picked up his phone and wallet from the coffee table, but his keys were nowhere to be found. He searched the whole living room desperately for almost fifteen minutes.

"You're awake". Max stopped moving at the voice of Charles ringing through the air, deep and raspy from sleep. The dutch was currently kneeled in front of the couch, trying to see if his keys were underneath it, and his back was facing Charles. He took a deep breath before he stood up and faced him.

"Yeah...". Was the only thing that Max could manage. He wanted to spit a mean comment, say something sassy enough for Charles to go away, but after seeing all of the monegasque's belongings so naturally laying around the house he didn't have the heart to disrespect him in what was undoubtedly his home.

"You had quite the night last night". Charles walked further into the living room, looking at Max with a puzzled gaze. "Do you remember anything from it?"

"Well, the last clear memory is downing something that tasted awful". Max scrunched his face remembering the taste.

"You came here around 4 in the morning-". Charles stopped talking suddenly. His tone insinuated that he had planned to say more, but he backed out last minute. He was visibly tense.

"I'm sorry". It was the first time Max had ever apologized to Charles in over ten years knowing each other.

"For how long had you liked Y/N?". To say that Max was taken aback by the question would be an understatement. His hungover head tried to think of an excuse, something that could spear him from admitting the truth. Charles could practically see the gears turning inside his head. "Don't bother lying. We know".

"We?". Max was pretty pale, but he managed to get paler.

"Listen". Charles relaxed a bit, moving closer to the couch. "You may don't believe this, but I actually like you, Max. I know that we don't have the best relationship, I'm willing to meet you half way, but I can't do that if you're not honest".

"There's no point in that anymore". Max admitted plopping himself on the couch. "She hates me. I'm the last threat to your relationship, Charles".

"She doesn't hate you. She loves you. Which is kind of awkward because she's my girlfriend". Charles sat next to Max on the couch, the other looking at him with a confused expression. "You kissed her last night".

"Fuck". Max hid his face on his hands. "I'm so sorry, Charles". Twice in less than 30 minutes?

"She kissed you back". There was this tension between them, neither knew what to do with the conversation. "We talked about it when we went to bed". Charles shifted on the couch. "It was an interesting conversation though. We freely left out some things we were hiding". Max sat straighter and looked at Charles, trying to show him that he was actively listening. "Like the fact that we both have had a crush on you for ages". That was something unexpected. "I know that I hasn't been the kindest guy to you through the years, and this doesn't excuse it, but it was really confusing when all of this started happening and I wasn't sure of what to do with it". Max remained silent. "You can say something, you know?"

"I don't know what to say". Max was perplexed. "I guess I just have so much to say that I don't know where to start".

"Morning". Y/N's voice softly entered their charged atmosphere. She walked to the couch and sat down, reading their conversation on their faces. "Are we talking about it right now?"

"I hope you don't mind, but we started without you, mon amour". Charles grabbed her hand and lightly squeezed it.

"I don't mind". She sighed deeply. "Max, we've talked and we want to propose you something". Max nodded his head. "We both really like you, like really like you-"

"Already went through that, amour, he's still processing it". Charles chuckled.

"Oh, okay. To the point then?". She asked mostly to herself. "We know that this is kind of weird and you may not be into it, Charles himself is still working on the idea, but we'd like to know if you'll be interested into adding yourself to this". She pointed between herself and Charles. Max kept quiet.

They waited patiently for Max to gather his thoughts, they knew that it was a lot to take in and they weren't aware of his crush on Charles, so there was also this fear of him not liking Charles back. They spent the night talking, went through all the options: ignore it, break up, take some time, open the relationship, and lastly, they ended up with the only option that made them happy. They both liked Max, they both wanted to be with him, but they loved each other and hated the idea of breaking up so one of them could date Max. Charles had a few contradictions with the idea, he was too wired into monogamy and found the idea uncomfortable, but at the same time he felt like it was the right choice, the one that could make him feel complete. He still had a lot to think about but he wanted to give it a try. Y/N was more open to the concept, she was more in touch with her feelings and less into monogamy than Charles.

"I have been in love with you for so long". Max said softly out of the blue. His eyes met Y/N's when she looked at him. "You have no idea. No idea how much I dreamt about you saying that back to me". He clicked his tongue. "Do you remember when I was 16 and I told you that I saw a guy and felt weird?". Y/N nodded her head. Of course she remembered when he first came out to her. "It was Charles. We had had the most intense race ever, I was just so pumped up, the adrenaline so high. And he took off his helmet and all I could think about was punching his face and then kiss it". Chales, who had been looking at his lap since Max confessed his love for Y/N, looked up at Max.

"For that long?". Charles asked. Max nodded.

"It was my bi awakening". The three of them laughed softly. The air became lighter around them.

"I always thought it was Pierre, you know?". Y/N told Max.

"Oh God, no! I mean I love Pierre, but c'mon, you both are more my type". Max said with more confidence.

"Does that mean that you're in?". Charles asked. Max looked between him and Y/N a few times and then smiled wide.

"Yeah, I'm in".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Okay! So, this is the beginning of the relationship. remember that none of these stories are published in chronological order. They are just short stories about different situations those three went though. I hope you like it!

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Will we ever find out what happened to penny’s parents? Also, will we find out why penny is seeming 10 years old forever?

These two are related, so I will answer them together and explain the WHOLE situation. Brace yourselves, it's gonna be a ride.

[TW: abuse, manipulation, violence]

This got LONG, oh boy... HUGE thanks to @deyasworld for the proofread, corrections and important addictions!!! This story wouldn't be even half this good if it wasn't for her!!! GIVE HER A HEART IF YOU CAN!!!

-----

[Now Loading...

K.N.D. Mission

Turning Elders New For Our Revolutionary Exciting Virtue of Eternal Rebellion]

-----

Penny was a normal girl, who could age normally like any other kid. Her parents disappeared when she was 8, and turned 10 while living with Nigel.

One fateful day in 2015, the city woke up to a pink sky. This alone was pretty unusual, but what made that day so strange from the rest was that everyone in the city had reverted back to being 10 years old!

Everyone except kids younger than 10, —who just remained the same age—, but everyone else: adults, elderly people and teens, were back to being 10 year-old kids! Running around unsupervised.

This strange event unleashed a LOT of confusion and panic. Even worse, people seemed to have completely forgotten about their families and jobs, and went straight to playing around instead of keeping their responsibilities.

Sector V responded immediately by establishing an Emergency Camp at the city’s stadium, where all the unattended children were gathered and taken care of until their parents got back to normal.

At this point of the story, Nigel is the only member of the old Sector V who still lives in the city, and technically also Kuki, —though she had been decommissioned a year prior, when her kid was born and when… Wally disappeared.

Nigel was asked to take over the operation and investigate, but he refused to take the lead. Instead, he chose to follow Penny, who was the standing chief of operations of the current Sector V, and believed she should be the leader of the mission.

Cinzia and Joey were left in charge of the Emergency Camp, helping to take care of the kids. Many kiddified adults managed to keep a cool head and volunteered to help around, which made things easier around the camp. Even though these adults were technically helping the Kids Next Door as kids, they were not made aware of the organization, and the ongoing operation remained a secret to them.

Robbie was left in charge of leading the search for the reckless parents who separated from their small kids, alongside a kiddified Lou, who was very PISSED about the whole situation.

Penny and Nigel kept things under control and maintained communication with the Moonbase, in case something more happened. They discovered a strange barrier surrounding the edges of the city, turning everyone in town into kids. Anyone who entered the city would be turned into a kid, but if a kiddified adult tried to leave the city…, nothing would happen. The KND surrounded the area and made sure no-one else would get in.

Abby and Hoagie lived in another city, where Abby was going to college. She was five months pregnant at the time, and was ABSOLUTELY NOT ALLOWED to enter the city.

After two days of effort, the power source of the barrier was found in Northern Greenland. Nigel and Penny were sent to investigate, while the rest of the crew stayed back to handle anything that could possibly happen.

The source tracked down to an abandoned facility in the middle of nowhere, covered in ice and snow. Once they managed to get in, they found a staircase leading deeper down the icy structure, and they quickly understood that the place was much larger than they initially thought.

Navigating the huge facility was tricky and full of rooms, so they made sure to mark the route they decided to follow.

After some exploration, they wound up in a bright open space. Lights reflected all around the ice, completely illuminating the whole place. It was very quiet, and it seemed to be the last room left to explore in the building.

In the middle of it, there were two kids.

Penny didn’t have a doubt as she ran towards them. Younger or older, she could recognize: Those were her parents.

The kids hugged and cried of joy at the reunion; Penny couldn’t hold back a single tear. After tiresome years of search, the reason she had joined the Kids Next Door had finally been fulfilled. The two kids pat Penny to calm her down and reassure her.

Nigel felt… uneasy. Something felt wrong. And it wasn’t the thought of Penny leaving him for them; it was something more, and it was coming from them.

Penny collected herself and called him over, but the two kids were quick to recognize him as, the legendary, Numbuh 1. The kids stated that they were big fans of his ideals! And cited him as their main inspiration to build the device that turned adults into kids.

So well… They were responsible for the whole mess, adding a reason for Nigel not to trust them, on top of the fact that they had abandoned Penny for all those years..

And from there it got worse. They elaborated their plans, explaining that they planned on turning the entire world into kids so that no-one would turn into a sad, boring, serious adult. “No kid should have to go through that ever again!”; everybody would be able to play and have fun forever! And that’s why they had decided to become kids again, and study how to make the world Adult Free!

This only made Nigel dislike them even more. He pointed out that, even if everyone was a kid, someone would have to take the jobs adults do. They’d still need doctors, and factory workers to produce foods, and even toys!

The kids argued that yes, that was true, but kids would make everything funnier!

Kids were perfectly capable of doing everything on their own, and the KND were the proof of that! Kids didn’t need adults or parents to guide them!

That’s when Penny asked if that was the reason they left her….

… And, in fact, it was. They waited for her to be old enough to “fend for herself” and went on with their research, because, to be honest, parenting wasn’t their thing. Caring for kids was too much work, too complicated, too stressful and depressing. But from now on, they could be like siblings! It would be so much better and way more fun!

Penny’s little heart sunk in pain, and she stepped away from them, crying.

“I don’t want siblings!” She cried, “I want a mom and dad!… I need parents that protect me, and help me when I need them!”

Nigel had had it. He grabbed Penny and pulled her behind him, shielding her, and started yelling at these monsters.

Kids DO need adults! They DO need parents to help them, educate them, take care of them, among many other things! Yes, adults ruled the world, but not ALL of them were bad. There were good adults who wanted to keep kids safe, that’s what the Adult Division is for! These two were just selfish assholes who abandoned their daughter, who are now trying to force their moronic views on the entire world.

The two looked at each other with boredom. “Never meet your heroes….”

Nigel held Penny’s hand and turned to walk away, when suddenly she was yanked from him, and before he could say or do anything, a sharp, burning pain pierced on his left shoulder.

Looking over, he sees the boy holding Penny, and the girl holding a laser gun that was still fuming.

He watched in horror as the two dragged Penny away screaming. He tried to catch up to them, realizing in that moment that he couldn’t use his powers at all, for some reason. The pain was too intense, and he collapsed on the ground.

The all-too familiar solitude of silence had surrounded him once more…, followed by its darkness…

-----

Nigel found himself lost in the void, floating in its pool of emptiness... All hope was lost for what felt like an eternity, until a warm, familiar voice echoed. It was calling for him, telling him to wake up or he’d be late, “Penny is waiting for you”.

“…. dad?…”

And then he woke up.

He found himself in a hospital bed. Robbie and Joey were standing on one side,… and Abby and Hoagie at the other.

The two explained that they had been informed of the situation, and they traveled along to where the signal came from, and that when they got there, they had found him faint and wounded.

They didn’t think twice about getting him to the city’s hospital, and accidentally got turned into kids. Nigel got startled the moment he noticed, and felt a despairing rage when he realized that, by doing so, Abby had apparently lost her baby…..

Hadn’t those two done enough??! THEY were the cause of all this! THEY chased a childish dream and cost the world Everything! And now they had Penny in their clutches.

Against the doctor’s orders to rest, Nigel got quickly on his feet and ordered a rescue mission for Penny. All KND operatives in the city were called in to join the mission.

The operatives raided the Greenland hideout and found the two mad scientists doing something to Penny, who was trapped in a strange machine.

The two explained that they had discovered how to freeze aging and stay Ten Forever! They revealed that they had gotten Father to give them his Delightfulization formula, and cracked a formula from it to get the results they wanted.

Penny was their first success.

There was a furious fight that got the lab destroyed in the process, but Penny had been rescued. By destroying the machine that powered the barrier, everyone affected went back to normal, and by miracle, Abby’s pregnancy was unharmed and back to normal.

Everyone was back to normal except for Penny’s parents. The process they had used on themselves was different. The KND scientists asked if they should revert them and bring them back to their actual ages, but Nigel refused.

“Let them grow again. I think that’s the worst punishment these two can face.”

Everything was back to normal, but indeed…. Ever since that day, Penny hasn't grown a day older.

Somehow she can’t realize she can’t grow. She has lucid moments where something feels off, and Nigel is always there to help her get through them.

Nigel and Penny’s relationship started as that of a brother and sister, but as time went on, Penny began to consider Nigel as more of a father, as he’d look older and older. In 2019, Nigel adopted Penny officially, and they became father and daughter, filling in for the paternal figure she much needed.

The KND decided to keep her because you don’t let go of a Forever Kid! She wouldn’t be able to become Soopreme Leader though, because it wouldn’t be fair for other kids, but she remains the Sector V leader until she wants out, be it out of the position or out of the organization, —which she wouldn’t even dream of!

KND scientists from all divisions are working non-stop to find a way to reverse the anti-aging process so she can grow normally, and so that she can move on.

[End of Transmission.]

[anon-amiss]

Okay hear me out on this, Wally with a romantic partner who is colour blind. Like they could see colour when they were younger so they know what colours are but once they grew older everything faded into greys, whites, and blacks. Bonus points if the only colours they see are on Wally and they (the reader) say something cheesy like 'you bring colour into my life'

Beginning Notes: Oooh!! This one is very interesting! As an artist who can see so many colours and shades, I could never imagine what would happen to me if all of it just suddenly dissipated! :°[ I think this will be particularly fun to try out though! It's a great scenario, and I'll do my best to deliver. Thank you for the great request, dear neighbour!

Warnings: Nothin' really! Just good vibes around :°]

Wally x Colourblind!Reader

(Romantic)

Your eyes focused on the bouquet in front of you, intensely glaring at each of the individual petals with the sharpest glare you've ever given anything in your life.

You were trying really hard, but your attempts all ending up fruitless. The dull boquet was suddenly pulled out of view by a familiarly bright and colourful hand. You turned to face the figure with a questioning gaze.

"If I had known you didn't like roses, I would have gotten you a different gift ha ha! " Wally bantered, patting the velvety petals with his felty hand.

"No, I love them! I was just doing the thing again," you replied, frantically trying to save his feelings. Though Wally wasn't hurt. He knew exactly what you were doing, even before you explained yourself, and it was somewhat amusing.

Anyone else entering Home for the first time would probably be shocked by the enormous array of colours everywhere. The vast amount of hues would certainly be blinding to anyone who just arrived, but when you first arrived, it looked like nothing special to you. Everything was just the same. Black and grey with hints of white.

You didn't even notice you were in a whole different universe until you felt the soft and cushiony terrain. You did initially think it was strange how some of the shapes seemed to be somewhat exaggerated, such as flowers looking rounder and hills looking cleaner than they were supposed to.

The first creature of sorts you met while wandering around was a dog named Barnaby, and you did freak out a bit at first, but you got over it relatively quickly when he offered to find you help. He took you around "Home" and introduced you to everyone, but when you got to the last resident, you couldn't stop yourself from jumping in surprise. You stared at him intently.

You were in such awe.

The resident in question being Wally, of course. He only stared back at you, not saying a word. You stood there for about a minute before he said his first words to you:

"You blinked! I win!"

You were confused at first but then realized he must have thought you were having a staring contest. That was honestly not a bad guess at what you'd really been doing.

Throughout the whole day, Wally couldn't help but notice the peeks and glances you stole his way. He knew he was handsome, but he didn't think it would be that distracting. Though, now that he thought about it, he did have a tendency to stare at himself in the mirror for hours at a time, so maybe it wasn't such a farfetched reaction.

Still, he felt the need to ask you about it just to be sure. You were embarrassed at first, but you felt like he deserved to know considering how rude it must have looked from an outsider's perspective.

You explained your whole colourblind situation, telling him that when you were a kid you could distinctly remember seeing every shade of the rainbow, but as the years passed, it all started fading away. At first, you'd been devastated to hear that you'd never be able to see colour again, but you learned to cope with this loss.

It still hurt you to think of it sometimes, sure, but you dealt with it by just imagining the missing colours in place of the dull, dark shades you saw.

"What do you imagine when you stare at me?" He asked you, curiously. Wally only knew one other person with colourblindness, which happened to be Barnaby, but even Barnaby could see some semblance of colours. He was intrigued by your situation and even felt bad for you. You seemed so sad when you were explaining your condition to him.

"That's the thing," you began, grabbing his hand, tracing your fingers over his palm carefully. You were simply baffled by this unique circumstance. "I can see your colours for some reason."

Wally was surprised, not sure what to say at that moment. He felt a bit special, thinking about your words over and over. While the both of you did not understand the reason you could see only his colours, neither of you wanted to question it. You cherished it dearly.

From thereon out, you two became very close. Wally didn't mind you staring at him every few minutes. He encouraged it, really. You would both often test out little experiments you had in mind such as putting red paint on him to see if it would show up, though, it did not... But even with this experiment dismissed, you still liked to put on some red lipstick and smooch Wally's cheek, usually saying how you wanted to just 'make sure' your results didn't change.

He knew you were lying, you were terrible at it, but he didn't mind.

He would frequently catch you staring intensely at certain things such as flowers or crayons. Wally learned that this was like a little guessing game to you. After you guessed the colour, you would usually ask Wally if you were correct, to which he would either confirm or deny your guess. Though, he did lie sometimes and say you were right. He just couldn't stand to see your disappointed face when you found out you were wrong.

Plus, everytime you did a good job, he was allowed to place gold stars on your forehead! Win-win!

Wally was sure you were guessing what colours the roses were this time and handed them out to you. "So what colour do you think they are?" He asked, sitting himself down next to you.

You let out a laugh and rested your head on his shoulder, setting the bouquet aside. "I don't need to know."

Wally looked over to you, tilting his head quizically. He's never had this response before, so naturally he was just a little confused with you. You loved this game! Maybe you were bored of it now??

You turned to face him and stared into his eyes. "You're the only set of colours I love to see." You gave him a peck on the mouth. Wally's expression was now that of surprise. "Hey, you're red now!"

He laughed at your comment and cupped your face. "I just can't get enough of you, dear." You leaned into his touch and smiled joyfully. Wally reciprocated your kiss and gave you a warm embrace. He leaned back to look at you and couldn't help but giggle at your reaction.

"Hey, you're red now, too!"

End.

End notes: Oh dear, I feel like this is way too short! :°[ I'm going to probably expand on this idea more later on! I really love your scenario and feel like I've misplaced some really great potential! Now... I usually follow intuition and reread my stories to see if there's anything else I can expand on, but I just can't quite put my fluffy finger on it! I promise I will find out what the problem is and get back to you again! With a longer story this time!

Apologies, dear neighbour!

I hope this shorter-than-usual story will suffice for the moment!

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

HELLAVERSE x Reader - Part 2 of ? - Life with Owl Boi

GIF by honey-im-still-free

GIF by fatboychedda

GIF by idzymi

Summary: You're just some person who lived on your own in a slightly spooky town. Who knew demons would show up! Who knew they'd end up living with you?

Tags: Reader Insert, Hazbin Hotel Characters, Helluva Boss Characters, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Romance

Relationships: ( & for platonic, x for Romance)

Stolas & Reader, Fizzarolli & Reader, Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader

Stolas was actually a pretty good roomate. After the initial awkwardness and hour tour, you quickly established some rules:

No breaking my stuff

No stealing my stuff

No hurting my cat

No hurting me

Don't be a jerk

Stolas agreed, saying these were rather reasonable terms.

You lived in a rather run-down house which was great because it was rather cheap. It had working wifi and the roof didn't leak and the water was clean so it was ok. So what if the doors were slightly ajar and the paint was peeling?

Anyway, because you had this run-down house you had an extra room to spare. you admitted to Stolas that it was rather dusty and mainly used as a storage room but he was just flattered you were giving him his own space at all.

Between the two of you, the room got cleared out and dusted and the small family of opossums living there were chased away, You didn't know they were there but that'd explain where your peanut butter kept going.

Stolas was talkative and somehow never said a thing. He'd often ramble about plants and stars or whatever interested him at the moment but would quickly end up apologizing over and over. You let him know you didn't mind. Also that you might zone out but it had nothing to do with him you just had a hard time focusing for any extended amount of time.

"I believe that's called Attention Deficient Disorder, yes? Or Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder?"

You told him you had no idea and just left it at that. He didn't pry, which you were thankful for.

Stolas told you a lot of things, and you did your best to remember the things that seemed important. You got him a small potted plant you saw at the hardware store as well as some basic plant-tending supplies. He was overjoyed and was basically in tears. So much so you were confused and worried that you had done something wrong.

"O-oh my, no!" Stolas fretted, wiping the growing tears off his cheeks "These are happy tears, my friend. I just- I can't really remember the last time someone got me a gift. It makes me...it makes me happy."

That gift opened the floodgate for you to get more random things you think he'd like. Glow-in-the-dark star stickers, small succulents and flowers, a funny looking stuffed animal of indeterminable species... That last one wasn't based on anything more than you just thought it'd be something he'd like.

It was.

He hugs it in his sleep.

Once Stolas saw you fretting over bills, he started feeling kind of...well. Very guilty. He was just staying here this whole time doing nothing while you constantly gifted him with things simply because you think he'd like them (and he does! it honestly doesn't matter what it is because you gave it to him and that alone make him happy).

And here you were paying for it all. It reminded him of his rather sheltered and pampered upbringing. And how selfish and conceited he could be because of it.

So, the owl demon threw on his best human disguise, went to town, and got a job.

...

You know this because you had to comfort him after said job.

"-and they just YELLED at me because I sat down for, like, five minutes??? My feet were hurting and the customers were so mean even though I didn't do anything to them??"

Man was not made for retail. You asked him why he got a job at all. His answer made you feel rather fuzzy on the inside. You hadn't even brought that up, but he noticed and tried to help.

You still asked him to quit because of how stressed he was. Maybe he can be like a live-in maid kind of thing? You couldn't really pay him for that but you'd take care of the money stuff... He agreed to that but insisted he try to find a different job.

You were just confused as to how he got one so quickly in the first place.

Eventually, life calmed down and you and your new roommate got into a bit of routine. Work, play, research ways to return to Hell, etc etc...

...then The Storm hit.

[echobx]

Twin Flame 6 - pervy!bsf!JJ Maybank × pervy!bsf!fem!reader

summary: y/n pushes JJ away because she thinks she doesn't deserve him

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst, broken hearts (idk what else to tag, sorry)

author's note: couldn't not do the third act break up bc it just fits too well with them. sorry, not sorry.

series masterlist ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2 ♡ part 3 ♡ part 4 ♡ part 5

   It's a simple trick when you run your fingertips over the inside of JJ’s arm, slowly trailing down and intertwining your fingers with his. Nothing special for how close you are- That would be the case if it wasn't you who had initiated it. It would be true if it hadn't happened in front of your friends. And when you turn your head and gaze up at him, he's already looking at you. 

   JJ hadn't expected it. Yes, you had gotten more and more open towards these very small things that you had despised just a few months earlier, but you still weren't ready to talk about it. So, it came as a surprise to him when you had done it. Holding hands in front of your friends. That was a whole new playing field that he had never explored before. 

   “Do you want to go get a drink with me?” you asked sweetly, and he nodded, incapable of saying anything that wouldn't reveal himself. You held onto his hand until the both of you reached the keg, letting go for just enough time so he could fill up two cups and then holding onto him again. 

   “This is new,” Pope pointed out as you sat back down, and you tilted your head to the side, letting go off JJ as casually as you thought possible.

   “What is?”

   “You never hold hands. You didn't even hold hands with what's-his-name, and he was your boyfriend,” Pope seemed confused by it, and so did the rest as soon as he had pointed it out. 

   “I just didn't want to get lost in the crowd,” you shrugged, and they let it go, a good enough explanation for something so “simple and meaningless.” 

   Later that night, you found yourself sitting in a circle, playing stupid party games with Tourons. When one of the girls, the one who had so conveniently found her place next to JJ, suggested a game of Suck and Blow, you could only roll your eyes. It was a stupid game that children played, unkissed pre-teens. It wasn't really something you considered appropriate for a group of people who would leave for college soon. But the game started against all your better judgment. 

   The card fell down a few times before it made its way to the girl, and you decided to not look at it, you didn't want to have the picture of her lips pressed against his to be carved in your mind. 

   “What the fuck!” JJ exclaimed and jumped up. 

   “It's a game,” the girl tried to laugh it off, but JJ was furious, looking at you for a second before going back to berating her. 

   “You cheated. I'm not gonna kiss you. Why would I wanna do that with someone who has this little regard for rules.” He shook his head, pulled you up and walked away. 

   The whole scene had confused you, severely so, and not just because it all happened so fast. Firstly, there was the fact that JJ had actually cared enough to not just go with it. He wasn't ready to hurt you, just like he had promised, even for a stupid game that really shouldn't matter. Secondly, because he had used words that he usually didn't. Words you used more than they were necessary, and he would typically make fun of you for speaking too much like the characters in the books you read. But most of all, you were confused by his reasoning. JJ wasn't one to care about rules at all. If he had a single ounce of care for any kind of rule in his body, the both of you would've never gotten in this situation. 

   “I can't do this,” JJ shook his head, putting his hands up and tugging at his roots while avoiding looking at you as the two of you stood beside the Twinkie. 

   “I don't understand,” you said shyly, scared that he would break up with you. If that is even possible, when you were never actually dating. 

   “I can't explain it. It's like, it hurts more each day. And now you wanna hold my hand whenever, and I still don't know if it's real or not,” he cried out, tears brimming in his eyes.

   “I'm sorry,” you apologized quietly, letting yourself slide down the side of the bus until you were sitting in the dirt. 

   “Why can't we just tell them? Why do we need to keep this under lock and key? Huh? Give me one good reason, please,” JJ crouched down in front of you, and you looked away, dipping your head. 

   “What if they don't get it?” 

   “What if they do?” JJ countered while getting back up, and you couldn't argue it too much. 

   “Did you see how weird Pope was earlier? That's why. They won't get it. They’ll groan and cry about ‘what if you break up and destroy the Crew’ because that's what will happen,” you looked up at him as he paced around.

   “So we stop?” he asked, gulping as if it was the hardest decision of his life. “Because I can't do it. I just can't. Not unless you let me prove to you and the world that I don't want anyone but you.” 

   “I'm scared,” you whispered. 

   “That wasn't the question, y/n. I need you to tell me if we can do this together, or not,” he pressured and you shook your head. 

   “You want me to love you, and I don't think I'm capable of that. I don't think I was made to love someone like you deserve it.” Your voice was trembling, your whole body was, and he wasn’t coming closer to help. No, he took a step back bringing more and more distance between the two of you until he had vanished between the trees, leaving you, and suddenly you felt like you were drowning. 

   The silence between the two of you was deafening from that night on. JJ refused to meet your gaze, and you couldn't stop the pain rushing through your body every time you looked at him. And yet you couldn't look away either. You wished his smiles were directed at you, you wished they were genuine and not just his way of hiding from the world. But you didn't know how to apologize for all the pain you had caused him.

   “Okay, seriously, can you stop staring into your glass and talk?” Kiara groaned as the four of you sat in her room. It was supposed to be a girl's night, but all you did was wonder if you couldn't train yourself to love him more. Maybe there was a book that would help. A secret spell that would make you whole. 

   “What?” you asked, and she rolled her eyes. 

   “What happened? You're completely out of it,” Sarah held her hand out for you, and you took it, holding onto her as if she tied you to reality. 

   “It's complicated and a long story. I'm sure it would bore us all,” you nodded and Cleo exhaled a laugh. 

   “I'm sure it won't bore us.” 

   “I will ruin the night,” you whispered, and Kiara groaned loudly. 

   “Seriously, you already were, with the moping and shit. No offense.” 

   It took every ounce of bravery in you to tell them about it, but you knew you had to if you wanted to fix things between JJ and you. 

   “I slept with JJ,” you said, and they gasped, even Cleo pretended for you. 

   “And now he's acting like an ass? I'm gonna kill him,” Kie wanted to jump up, but you held her back. 

   “No, that's not why,” you shook your head and she lifted her brows. “We were doing that for some time, a few months.” 

   “How did we not notice that?” Sarah looked at Kie, but she was still only staring at you like you were crazy. 

   “Are you telling me that every fucking time he mentioned some disgusting shit, that was you?” You nodded at her correct assumption, and Kie shook herself with disgust. “I’m gonna throw up,” she retched. 

   “Why did you never say anything?” Sarah asked softly and you shrugged your shoulders.

   “Because he wants me to love him and I can't. I tried and I can't. And he wants to do all these things couples do. Hold hands and kiss in front of the world and all that bullshit,” you mumbled, your chest growing tighter at the thought of it. Flashes of memories came crashing down on you; his hand on your waist while grocery shopping, his lips so close to your ear while whispering a joke that was only meant for you, his eyes basically undressing you in front of all your friends. 

   “That's why you asked about how it feels?” Sarah asked, and you looked at Cleo, she was staying uncommonly quiet. 

   “What did he say?” she asked, and you looked down, ashamed of what you had done. 

   “That it doesn't matter. That it can work if I let him. But I can't do that. He deserves better than me.”

   “You pushed him away?” 

   “He’s asking for too much,” you argued with her, but you knew they wouldn't get it. 

   “What did he ask for exactly?” Sarah spoke up, and you started picking at your nails. 

   “To be allowed to kiss me in front of you guys, to hold my hand whenever we feel like it, to call me his girlfriend, to be more than what we ever were.” 

   “And how long did you do all of this before he asked for that?” Kie wondered and you sighed. 

   “I don't know, three months?” 

   “I don't see how that's unreasonable,” Sarah shook her head. 

   “Of course you don't, because you are normal. All of you. You just don't get it,” you wanted to get up and leave, but they didn't let you. 

   “Explain it, please. We want to understand and help you,” Kie urged while holding your hand. 

   You sat there for about an hour, trying your best to explain and get them to understand why you didn't understand what they described as love and how it affected your relationship with your best friend. 

   “So you never got those dizzy feelings? Ever?” Sarah asked, and you had to think about it for a few seconds before replying. 

   “One or two times, but not more.” 

   “And when he left you behind? How did you feel then?” 

   “Like someone was stealing my air. Like I would die soon,” you shrugged, and she looked over your head at Kie and Cleo. 

   “Y/n, I know you don't think so, but everything you told us, sounds to us like you do love him. Maybe even more than he will ever understand, especially because you don't understand it. And I'm not saying it's easy, or that you have to get it. But this is just what we think, and if you really want to make up for it, and fix this, you should go tell him all of this,” Sarah spoke softly, as if she was scared that you would snap at her, and when you simply nodded she sighed and leaned back in her seat. 

   “But he hates me, so it's not gonna work anyway,” you said, and Kiara slapped her hand against her forehead. 

   “Jesus fucking Christ, y/n! You broke his stupid heart, of course he didn't want to look at you or talk to you. Now go and fix it,” she yelled at you while getting up and dragging you with her. “Out! And if you come back here before it's fixed, I'm gonna shave your head.” 

   “That's mean,” you pouted. 

   “That's life, sweetheart.”

read part 7 here

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @nemesyaaa

[quitealotofsodapop]

Pffft Baije's reaction

This whole time, he's had the image of some Savage monster, a party animal who causes problems on purpose, and it turns out Wukong was just a huge nerd! He'd thought that even if he had to go on their stupid journey with a savage monster, at least Wukong knows how to party! Baije wants his money back.

Tripitaka, meanwhile, is both confused and kind of fascinated. He hadn't known much about his most troubled student, not even why he had chosen to return after he initially escaped (turned out it was to briefly visit home and make sure Luzhen was OK, and then let him know that he was going on the journey. Wukong made a promise and he keeps his promises) so he can't help but be curious about Wukong's previously unknown siblings.

The only one to suspect it was Ao Lie, actually. Not because of his fancy nose or anything... he's just got a bunch of siblings himself, so he knows how to recognize the signs. That and it had been Luzhen and Wukong both who actually went to get Ringu Jingu Bang. Luzhen had been the one to break all the weapons, claiming they aren't suitable for his brother and then demand a proper kingly outfit for him that isnt just leaves, while Wukong had been with Ao Guang's wife and been the one Ringu Jingu Bang had called for. The reports had just gotten mixed up and made it seem like there was only one monkey. Ao Guang villager goes on record after the misunderstanding is cleared up, to say that while he doesn't really like either, he much prefers dealing with the elder twin. That younger sibling is just too wolds for his tastes. Wukong is also the one to want to go to Sinodhi's school, the but nerd.

I love the idea that the immortality pill incident was just an accident, and Wukong had thought they were painkillers. The show made it seem like they were only three to begin with, and I would be lying. I'd j never take three pills when I had the worst of my migraines, so it's reasonable to think Wukong may have done so on accident. Lao Tzu honestly has no leg to stand on when it comes to being angry since he never labeled them, left then out in the open, and hadn't bothered to let anyone know he wasn't going to be in. Wukong had taken one look around, saw Lao Tzu wasn't in, and thought that he could use his own alchemy training to properly dose himself without realizing the pills he took were NOT ibuprofen after he immediately noticed the facts.

Prev.

+from @booksfromthestars

Bajie is disbelieving and disappointed all at once. He thought he was going to be travelling with a party-animal, not a lightweight who'd rather read medical books and paint!

Tripitaka is an only child, so he doesn't really understand the habits one forms when you grow up with another person occupying your personal space. Things he considers selfish on the surface turn out to just to be a habit from living where your sibling is liable to steal the peach you were just eating. He is pleasantly surprised by Wukong keeping his promise and returning to resume the Journey after checking in on his little brother - Triptaka had assumed he was lying, and was too slow to warn Wukong not to put his hat back on. Wukong is *furious* when he feels something magical tighten around his skull. Tripitaka is still super guilty about that one.

Guanyin doesn't regret the circlet one bit - it's mostly an insurance for Luzhen rather than Wukong to behave himself.

Ao Lie is the younger of three brothers + a sister, so he can identify a fellow sibling from a mile away. The way Wukong protects his favourite foods when sitting with others, but also goes out of his way to pick up at least one piece of the others' faves while he's foraging. That's a sibling habit built upon mutual sharing and theft of each other's food (source; sibling). He also notices how Wukong acts around children they encounter, and it reminds him so much of his big brothers.

I love the imagery of Ao Guang's palace being broken into by two whole little monkeys. XD Well technically Luzhen broke in, Wukong politely asked at the door if the Dragon King or Queen could spare a weapon so that they could defend their people. Wukong's calmer/more respectful attitude endears him to Ao Guang and the Queen, though Luzhen still does bully the other dragons into giving his big bro full battle armour. The dragons accommodate these demands from a mix of fear (Wukong is a strong little monkey and his brother is unhinged) and amusement - they're all brothers too, and think it's sweet that Luzhen only wants the Best for his big bro. Guang wouldn't invite Luzhen into his house again though XD

Wukong is the brother who went to college while Luzhen stayed home. XD

Wukong took two pills thinking that they were painkillers, only to realise when he sobered up Immediately what they truly were. The third pill he pocketed and gave to Luzhen since whatever was about to happen, he didn't want his brother to not have a layer of immortality to him. Lao Tzu was still pissed, but to be fair he canonically doesn't label his stuff good (both in Jttw and LMK), and the "Makes You Immortal/Invulnerable Pills" look an *awful* lot like his patented Hangover cure so popular with the celestial soldiers.

Wukong took the full blame for the Havoc, no matter how much Luzhen tried to plead that it was mostly his doing - but the celestial host had assumed that Luzhen had been the one trying to cover for his older brother/was just a clever clone.

Luzhen screamed as his brother was dragged to the Furnace and the flames from the crucible fell upon their Island. He didn't have time to try and save him or the rest of the Brotherhood while their kingdom was burning to ashes - he had to protect their people.

Macaque never blamed Luzhen for his choice, the younger monkey was suffering enough knowing that his older brother was hurting. But Luzhen certainly roared in Macaque's face when him and Wukong had their fight under the Mountain. Depending on how things go, Macaque might take Luzhen's words to heart and return to Wukong's arms to apologize. Whether or not Wukong will be as forgiving is to be seen.

[phantom-of-the-501st]

And we're back!

Initial thoughts on TBB S3 Eps 1-3

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

3x1 Confined

Final season premiere let's go!!!

Storms are never a good sign

There's creepy shit on Tantiss (crocodile thing from the trailer maybe?)

Although Hemlock counts as creepy enough

He's the creepiest thing on the whole planet 😬

Tbf there's a stunning view, it's just a shame about the prison window blocking it

CROSS IS BACK!!!

Omega blood sample? That's gotta come back later in the season!

Are these blood samples labelled? How tf does anyone know which is which??? That's just bad lab practice 🙄

Oh the weird machine knows. Nvm

"Replicate the genetic M count" and they want Omega's blood???

Nala Se is protecting Megs. Slenderbitch may actually be of some use

Force senstive Megs?

This feels like this is linking with the cloning plot in The Mandalorian

The animal welfare standards here are abysmal 😠

BATCHER?! Oh that's adorable 😍

And I thought Omegas's room was bad holy shit 😭

The grid across Cross' room is casting a crosshair on Omega's face. I love little details like that

21 tallies on wall = 21 rotations? That doesn't seem like very long

STRAW LULA?! 😭❤️

Why are there blood drips going into each sample? This seems like a contamination issue

At least 150 tallies now 😭

Subject will be terminated if they don't heal. Feels very much like the clones when they were on Kamino, which just shows how much the clones were treated like animals

"I belong here" *sobs*

Cross don't make me cry istg. I can't do this at 8am on a Wednesday 😭

Okay but the droid kind of had a point about Batcher struggling in the wild because of Omega domesticating her. One thing you learn about working in a zoo environment is that hand-reared animals have no idea how to behave like their wild counterparts and basically turn into little psychos (like you can't actually be in the same room as some of them levels of bad). That or they rely on people too much and have no idea how to fend for themselves. Either way, the droid wasn't entirely wrong

Hemlock is a bastard 😒

Omega's theme!!!

Season premiere and only two Batcher (neither of whom are Hunt or Wreck). Interesting!

1x2 Paths Unknown

Fucking Roland Durand?!

Did not expect that in episode 2 omg!

Hunter and Wrecker being mercenaries for the Durands?

Ah okay it seems to be a one off

THE GOGGLES IN THE SHIP! 😭😭😭😭

Hunt and Wreck be looking a bit scuffed

Echo and Rex mention!

They won't be available for 2 rotations? Well we're not seeing them this episode then...

Hunter's emotions are making him impulsive and that's not really a good thing

Wrecker is actually the one holding back, which is an interesting dynamic. Wrecker can see how bad Hunter is coping and is probably having to keep him in line as much as he can so that they don't lose another brother

CLONE CADETS! CLONE CADETS!

These ones actually have New Zealand accents as well

The slither vines were genetically made and got out of hand? This is what we mean by invasive species, people. Very much not good

Okay so we have one called Box and one called Stak

Are the cadets not affected by the chips? Do they only active in fully trained soldiers?

We need to get these kids to Echo and Rex

GONKY BACKPACK!!! 😆

Poor Gonky is stuck upside down.

These vines are making vocalisations somehow and it's confusing me. Plant voice boxes?

OKAY WTF ARE THOSE THINGS???

They look like weird green versions of the slogs from Abe's Oddysee

Why are you breaking into the Marauder???

You better not be stealing it. That's already happened and we can't do it again

Okay clone cadet 3 is Deke

Ayyyy rescue time!

Okay, I'll let them off for getting on the ship

Because we totally needed a swampy sarlacc thing rn 😭

PABU!!!

*Remembers invasion of Pabu in trailer* FUCK

1x3 Shadows of Tantiss

I'm going to throw hands if Echo isn't in this episode 😤

Ooh mystery clone(?) who everyone thinks is Tech!

Nala Se is helping again 👀

The special guest is probs Palpatine

Le Palps is back

Project Necromancer - bringing back the dead?

So is this to do with the cloning stuff or something to do with Tech?

Probs the cloning thing tbf

*Angry mouse droid squeaks*

FUCK YEAH CROSS!

Missed watching this guy fight

Cross and Omega team up let's go!!!

Cross doesn't question why Omega only mentioned Wrecker and Hunter. Has Omega told him about Tech or did he just not question why she only brought two up?

And in that case has she told him that Echo is with Rex?

I HAVE QUESTIONS!

Cross went for the stun not the kill. Very different from 2x3

Do you think Hemlock has a scar or does he just choose to shave a slit in his eyebrow? 🤨

Oh great a big green monkey cat. Just what we need!

"Of course he did". CROSSHAIR BEING SOFT ABOUT TECH HELP

Cross is missing shots because of his shaky hands :(

OMEGA M COUNT???

Oooooooh they're adding blood with midichlorians in to the samples to see if they would take. That explains the blood being added to the samples

Overall I love these episodes! It's nice going back and forth between Cross and Omega, and Hunter and Wrecker. We're going to get some interesting dynamics

This is a very sad day for Echo stans though. I feel like we're going to be suffering a lot this season 🥲

And here's the bingo card as of rn!

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 5: Just One Kiss

Summary: Even in your worst moment, your compassion and kindness make it easy for Wanda to open up to you in a way she never has with anyone. 

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, hospital.

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: This chapter just about did me in lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

You found yourself gazing intently at Wanda, her question lingering between you. The combination of the heavy dose of pain medication coursing through your veins and her palpable unease made it challenging for you to muster a coherent response. Your mind felt hazy and disconnected, as if you were floating in a foggy dream. Meanwhile, Wanda's eyes bored into yours, awaiting a reply that didn't seem to be coming anytime soon.

“You know what? This isn’t necessary. We shouldn’t be talking about this right now.  You need to rest. I should—"

"Wanda, stop, please," you uttered with a raspy voice as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain. "Look at me," you said, trying to catch her gaze. The redhead closed her eyes momentarily before finally meeting your eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Fury’s words echoed in her mind.

“Do you know what I went through to keep Westview classified?”

This was a side of Wanda you hadn't seen before in the short time you had known her. The usually confident and bubbly woman could not speak, and it pained you to see her like that. Her anxiety was evident, so you took the initiative to speak first.

“You were blipped,” you said slowly

"Yes," she replied softly.

“The Battle for Earth,” you started cautiously. “You fought, I remember.”

"I did," she said while wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

“You see, I was right! You’re a hero. The world owes you everything.” 

“No, I’m not Y/N. You don’t know everything; no one outside of this building does. I’m not who you think I am,” lip trembling.

It was at that moment you finally saw the suffering flowing through her. The pain that stood as witness to all she had kept hidden and everything she was struggling to tell you.

“The Mind Stone connected Vision and me, but it was more than a mere connection. " She hesitated with a shaky breath. The vision was everything to me. He sacrificed himself for a chance to stop Thanos, and the burden of his sacrifice rested upon me," her voice somber. "That sacrifice meant I had to..." she bit her shaky lip, "I'm sorry.

"It's okay, I'm right here," you whispered.

“I had to destroy the Mind Stone. I was forced to take the life of the only one I ever loved,” she felt her throat start to close as tears welled up in her eyes. “I killed him. I didn’t have a choice.”

"Oh, Wanda," your eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“Nothing worked. Thanos was just too powerful," she said, her voice trembling. "After the dust settled, I returned to retrieve his remains, only to find out that SWORD had taken his body into custody. When I saw him, he had already been... dismantled.”

That wasn't your fault," you said, trying to reason with her. "You did everything you could.”

As she spoke, her voice trembled with emotion. Her eyes were fixed on the ground as if lost in thought. "Vision and I had everything planned out. We were going to start a new life together in Westview. I remember finding the deed to the property after the battle was over. But when I saw what they had done to him, I was overwhelmed with shock and confusion. I didn't know what to do or where to go. It was like my whole world had been turned upside down. So I just got in the car and drove. For hours and hours, I drove without any destination in mind. When I finally stopped, I realized that I had somehow ended up in Westview. It was as if fate had brought me there, to this quiet little town where I could try to start over and forget the pain of the past."

You reached for her, tilting her chin so her eyes met yours again. "The grief was overwhelming," her voice cracked. "I didn't know what was happening and lost control." The dam finally broke, and tears gushed down her ashen cheeks. "It brought him back to me in some form. It blessed me with the boys." She wiped her eyes, but the tears came anyway. "But I hurt so many people, Y/N," the shame tearing her apart. "I trapped them in my grief.

“No, you’re here now,” you reminded her gently. 

“I was able to put an end to it when I realized the pain I had caused, but nothing can take away what I did, Y/N,” shaking her head. “I don’t deserve to be here.”

A deep sense of disbelief filled your heart as you gazed at the woman before you. Here was someone who had shown you immense compassion and kindness, yet her pain was as profound as the raging storm outside your window. The darkness of her sorrow seemed to envelop everything in its path, leaving you feeling helpless and lost.

“Don’t you dare say that, Wanda,” your breathing a bit labored. “I see so much good and love in you. I knew it from the moment you looked me in the eyes in that cafe, and I saw it the day you walked into my shop. The way you talk about Billy and Tommy. You are a good person.”

You placed your hand against her cheek. The slight movement pulled at the IV buried in your skin, but you didn't care. You softly caressed her face with the pad of your thumb and said, "I may not understand all that you've been through, but I do know that a world without Wanda Maximoff is not a world I want to live in."

“Y/N…” 

Wanda’s walls had come crashing down, but what you found behind them was beautiful. The collection of unshed tears made her green eyes dazzle like emeralds. You leaned in and before you realized what you were doing she met you halfway. Your lips met ever so softly, like a bird’s wings riding the wind. You kissed her slowly, deeply, purposefully, intent on cherishing every last bit of her. She could feel the warmth of your soft cheeks radiate over hers. The pace of your heart rate monitor quickened as adrenaline coursed through you. 

As she pulled away, Wanda stumbled over her words, "I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't mean to. I shouldn't have..."

"No, Wanda. It's okay," you say, trying your best to reassure her.

“No, it isn’t, you’re so vulnerable. For God’s sake, Y/N, you almost died today! I don’t know what got into me,” rising from her chair. “I should go; they’ll be expecting me in the debrief. I’ll come back later,” she said unconvincingly.

"Uh, sure," you mutter, attempting to mask your disappointment.

Without another word, Wanda hurriedly left the room, leaving you with the faint sensation of her lips on yours and your thoughts.

*^~^*

Wanda had changed into the clothes that Sam had brought her and walked into the conference room to find the debriefing already in progress. She took her seat next to Natasha at the table, while Cap was discussing various aspects of their response to the accident. Suddenly, Nat nudged Wanda under the table to get her attention.

“How’s y/n?” she mumbled.

"Her condition is stable. She woke up while I was with her," Wanda whispered.

“Good.” Nat replied.

“Wanda," Steve's voice interrupted, breaking the silence. "I had a chance to speak with Helen earlier, and she mentioned your friend. We're all happy to hear that everything turned out okay.

"Oh, thank you. I am, too," she said while biting her lower lip.

Yelena observed the entire exchange from the other end of the table, reading the witch's body language. "I hope we get to meet her," she said with a smile.

“Maybe,” the redhead considered. “Once she’s out of the woods.” 

Wanda texted Darcy after the meeting, letting her know she would be home in an hour. As she reached the door, an arm suddenly appeared and blocked her exit.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

Wanda looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

“With Y/N,” Nat said. “I saw you out there today and see it in your eyes right now.” 

“Are you ever not watching me?” Wanda asked sarcastically; turning around and walking back toward her chair. 

“Would it surprise you if I said no,” Nat smirked, hands in the pockets of her hoodie.

“Not really,” lifting herself to sit on the conference table with a sigh, “ Y/N and I kissed.” 

Nat raised an eyebrow and asked, "And how does that make you feel?”

“Are you my therapist now?” Wanda asked, tying her hair up in a messy bun with the hair tie on her wrist. 

“To be honest, we could both use one,” she said, meeting the witch's gaze.

“We were both so vulnerable. She almost died; I was sobbing over Vision and Westview; I don’t know what came over me. She was so compassionate and understanding; I don’t know,” Wanda trailed off.

“It's okay to have feelings for her. It would be best if you talked to her,” Nat said.

“I’m not sure if I can go back up there,” her eyes avoiding the widow.

“You can, and you will. I’ll go with you if you want me to,” her hands on Wanda’s shoulders.

*^~^*

As you lay in your Med Bay room, you gradually begin to feel the effects of the pain medication administered by Helen and Banner start to subside. A sharp twinge of pain shoots through your body, causing you to let out a groan. You reach out for the call button, knowing that you need to alert the medical staff of your discomfort. The room around you is quiet, save for the beeping of the machines monitoring your vital signs. You take a deep breath and press the button, hoping that help will arrive soon.

"Ms. Y/L/N, are you alright?" the nurse asked, reassuringly smiling.

I'm really starting to hurt. Is there any chance I could get some more pain medication?” You asked.

"Sure, it's almost time for your next oral dose, about 15 minutes from now," she said, making adjustments to your morphine drip.

“So, Claire," you said after glancing at her name tag, "I assume this isn’t a place where you encounter a lot of civilians, am I right?”

“No, you’re the first one,” she helped you sit up and adjusted your pillows.

As you lay back down, grimacing, trying to adjust your sling and broken leg, "Well, I feel special then."

“You should! It’s not every day that group gets to see what happens after they save someone. I think it’s good for them,” she winked.

A soft knock catches your attention. You turn to see Wanda peeking into your room. You tried to play it cool, but you couldn't help how your face lit up at the sight of her.

"Hey, I told you I'd be back. How are you feeling?" Walking in with another redhead in tow.

“I've been better," you said, smirking as you fidgeted with your oxygen cannula. "Listen, about what happened earlier...

"We don't need to talk about that right now, Y/N. You need to rest," Wanda said as she sat beside you. The second red-headed woman stood beside her. "This is Natasha Romanoff," she introduced, trying to change the subject.

After gently shaking your hand, Nat said, "It's nice to formally meet you this time."

"I'm sorry I didn't recognize you the other day. I was busy being tackled," you said, smirking at Wanda.

Wanda blushed. Even on your worst day, you were exceptionally charming.

“Don’t worry about it. Truthfully, it’s great when we aren’t recognized,” Nat said. “I just wanted to come up and see how you were doing. The team was really worried about you.”

“I'm doing okay, all things considered," you said, sighing deeply. "I honestly feel lucky to be alive... Dr. Cho told me how bad off I was when you brought me in, Wanda. I didn't get a chance to say it before, but thank you," your voice shook, "Thank you for saving me," you said while wiping away a tear that was threatening to fall from your eye with your good hand.

The witch held your hand tightly, "We weren't going to let you die out there."

Nataha’s heart melted at the interaction. If she wasn’t sure before, she was now. Maximoff had it bad.

Helen softly entered the room with her tablet and said, "Excuse me, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

“Not at all,” still holding on to Wanda’s hand. 

“I just wanted to check your stitches before Claire changes your bandages in a few minutes.”

“Oh, we can step out,” Nat offered. 

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured. “You’ve already seen me at my worst. Besides, I like the company.”

Helen carefully inspected your stitches, ensuring everything was healing correctly, while Wanda gently held your hand. 

“Everything looks good,” Helen said. “I also wanted to talk to you about your recovery. We couldn’t reach your parents with the numbers from your phone. Is there anyone else we can contact for you?”

"Figures," you muttered quietly.

The unexpected response from you caught Wanda off guard. As a curious person, the redhead had been wondering about your background and was eager to learn more about your past. However, she decided to wait until your condition had improved before approaching the topic and made a mental note to ask you about your family at a later time.

You thought for a moment. “Try my friend Harper Reynolds. She's the assistant manager at the Candy Bar," you suggested. Then it hit you like a ton of bricks. "Oh shit, she's probably freaking out because I never made it to work," you said, running your hand over your face in frustration.

“We will call her. You will be here for a couple more weeks, and after that, you will require full-time care and physical therapy,” Helen explained.

“How are you going to manage on your own?” Wanda asked. 

“I’ll figure something out,” doing your best to reassure her.

She spoke softly, "Y/N, I visited your apartment. You live alone on the third floor."

“You can stay here,” Natasha interrupted.

“What?” Turning to the Black Widow.

“She’s right,” Wanda said. “My old bedroom in the compound living quarters is empty. You can’t be by yourself right now. Plus, Helen will be able to monitor your recovery more closely if you’re in the building.”

You were surprised by the suggestion. No, you couldn't stay here. You weren't excited about managing your recovery alone, but you never accepted help easily.

Wanda could see the gears turning in your head and didn’t wait for a response, “It’s settled then, she’ll stay here. We’ll send the guys to pick up your stuff.”

“Okay, I guess I’m staying here then,” you concurred.

“Yeah, like you had a choice,” Nat joked.