#before u judge me i knew literally No One who had ever gone on t before so i. had to seek advice Somewhere. (that was not the best place bu

[sapsolais]

!

[ghostyprince]

title: pull me closer (until we collide)

word count: 4.646 rating: T fandom: BuzzF. Uns. relationship: Ryan B./Shane M. summary: Ryan is seemingly haunted by a spirit that just really wants to hold his hand.

author’s note:  Welp, this is certainly longer than I expected it to be, but oh well! I started this a few months ago and finished it literally today. Special thanks for my friendo @morganmorningstar for helping and test reading, love u dude ❤

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It all started, when Ryan woke to something heavy settling on his palm. He and Shane were all alone in this very creepy house, filming another episode for Unsolved. It took Ryan like four hours of tossing and turning to fall asleep. The floor was too lumpy, or just when Ryan would finally drift off, he'd jerk awake to a knock, or quiet shuffling, that sounded like footsteps. After that, he'd be wide awake again, for at least half an hour, heart beating in his throat like crazy.

And there was someone or something touching him. When he jolted awake by the touch, his first thought was that it must've been Shane. Then, he remembered that Shane wasn't even in the room with him. And why would he be holding his hand anyway? (It might have been a little bit of wishful thinking on Ryan's part).

So naturally, his first reaction was to yell and jump out of his sleeping bag, getting tangled up in it in the process, and nearly twisting an ankle. He took several steps back, frantically looking around in the dark for any presence in the room. Everything seemed to be just as it was before he went to sleep, except for the tall figure standing in the doorway.

Ryan's whole body gone cold in a split second, only half-aware of the strangled noise that escaped his throat.

"Ryan?" The figure spoke, in a deep, scratchy voice that sounded a lot like Shane's. Oh.

"Shane?" Ryan hated how weak he sounded, still on high alert and uncertain.

"The one and only, baby. Well, technically there are a lot of- nevermind that, are you okay, little guy? Heard you screaming your head off." Ryan's eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out Shane's sleepy, but concerned expression as he leaned on the doorframe.

"Yeah, just... Something touched my hand while I was sleeping."

"Was it furry?" Ryan stared at him.

"What do you mean, was it furry?"

"You know, rats." Shane scrunched up his nose, and Ryan burst into a laugh, the unease seeped out of his body like it wasn't even there in the first place. Shane really just had that effect on him every damn time.

"I'm pretty sure I'd know if a rat would nestle itself on my hand, dude."

"Yeah, probably."

"It felt like- it felt like a hand." Ryan still felt the weight of it, and it made him shudder. It was so warm, much warmer than a human which was weird in itself, Ryan would've expected a spirit or whatever that was to be cold.

"I'm sure it was nothing, Ryan. Maybe you were just dreaming."

"I know I was awake, dude! I'm not staying here alone, fuck that. I'm moving to the other room with you." Ryan knew he shouldn't have been so snappy, and irritated, but he's scared and sleep-deprived and hated everything at the moment.

"Sure, if that makes you feel better." Shane shrugged. Ryan hoped it would. He grabbed the sleeping bag and his backpack following Shane to the room next door where he's stationed at. They left the camera recording in the Ryan was in, just in case, if there would be some activity later in the night.

Ryan set up his sleeping bag a few feet away from Shane, who was already climbing back to his own.

"'Night, Ry. Don't let the demons hold your hand." Shane said in a sing-song voice, his back is turned towards Ryan can see his shoulders trembling, in silent laughter. Dick.

"Shut up, Shane." If Ryan was grinning fondly, no one needed to know.

The second time Ryan felt the same hand-like weight settle on his own happened when he slept in the same room as Shane once more, on location. They were a good five feet apart, so even Shane with his long noodle arms shouldn't have been able to reach him. Ryan bolted up into a sitting position, jerking his hand back so fast, he hit himself in the chest. "Shane?"

He must've called out too silently, voice shaking too hard because Shane hadn't moved. If Ryan stayed very still he could barely make out his friend's soft snores. Of course, he was sleeping like a baby while Ryan was about to have a fucking panic attack from ghosts or demons wanting to hold hands with him.

"Well, this worked last time," he muttered, solely talking to himself at this point. He took a big gulp of air and stood up, legs shaking. He wanted to move quickly, but at the same time, he didn't want Shane to wake up and see him pulling his sleeping bag as close to Shane's as he dared. It would've been really fucking embarrassing, and Shane most certainly would've laughed at him.

As soon as he was close enough to Shane, so it calmed him down a little, he darted back under the cover of the sleeping bag, as if it would protect him. He made sure none of his limbs were hanging out and covered himself up to his nose, which thankfully wasn't too difficult considering his height. He could and would submerge himself in the sleeping bag entirely if he wouldn't need to breathe.

Sleep hadn't come for a long time for Ryan. He was uncomfortable and hot, but he was terrified whatever kept touching him would do it again if he'd peel the covers off himself just a little. It made his face burn in shame. He was acting like a child and they probably had to throw away half of the night footage because Ryan was acting like a baby.

Sometimes, he didn't know what Shane actually thought about him. They've been friends for years, best pals, and they've never talked about what would happen if Ryan was honest to God terrified one day. Sure, Shane genuinely tried to calm him down a few times, distracting Ryan with silly jokes, and asking if he was okay in that soft tone Ryan treasured to hear.

If something big were to happen, would he actually believe Ryan, though?

Because he was pretty sure 'something big' was real, and happening, and instead of waking him up just to find comfort in Shane's teasing, it made him afraid of being judged.

He cared a lot about his friend's opinion, even more so than he probably would've cared about some other friend's. Unsolved brought them closer than ever, but the show also widened the gap between them when it came to their belief system. Ryan didn't care most of the time, despite that, they were still a great duo. It was fine.

Until it wasn't, because he started developing, or perhaps resurfacing some feelings for that tall dork.

Feelings, he vaguely remembered carefully tucking away into the far corner of his mind, into the Never To Be Touched Again box.

And there he was, putting his hands all over it, letting it slowly consume him.

He knew he was overthinking, and all of these messy thoughts would seem ridiculous in the morning, but goddammit, Ryan was scared and guilty and sleep-deprived. He deserved to be a little dramatic.

That also didn't mean there was no truth to them.

If Shane noticed their sleeping bag was way closer to each other in the morning, he didn't say anything about it.

Ryan's Flirty Ghost Problem (as Shane lovingly referred to it) hadn't ceased, in fact, the occasions seemed to increase in number. The warm hand settled on his own every single time he tried to get some sleep outside of his home. Not just at locations, but in hotel rooms, at Shane's apartment at some point during one of their late-night editing session that turned into a sleepover. The only place he could actually feel safe sleeping at was his apartment. Whatever demon or ghost attached itself onto Ryan, it couldn't reach him there it seemed like.

He thought about the issue constantly, approaching it like he approached his True Crime research. The first few times it was a pretty terrifying experience, but it became obvious whatever was the cause, it didn't mean any harm. Ryan never felt threatened by the warm weight of that hand, even though his own paranoia still scared him a little when it happened.

He took notes of everything he knew or suspected so far. It wasn't human (Ryan was so sure of that), seemed harmless and only occurred when Shane was in close proximity to him. And that last point was the one that intrigued Ryan the most because Shane was the only constant in the situation.

He couldn't just confront him about it though, what would he even say? 'Hey dude, are you astral projecting your hand on mine when we sleep in the same room?' That makes no sense at all. He wanted to tell it to someone though, and Shane was his best buddy. Everyone else would think he was crazy.

Shane also made the mistake of asking and that's how they ended up at the library. They weren't filming, but Ryan had papers splayed out on the table in front of him. And Shane was sipping his coffee, all soft like he just woke up because it was eight in the damn morning, so he literally did just wake up.

"Ryan, this is so dumb, nothing is haunting you." Shane sighed after listening to Ryan rambling on about how a ghost attached itself onto him or whatever the hell.

"Then how do you explain it?" Ryan crossed his arms in front of his chest, narrowing his eyes at him and scoffing when Shane only shrugged.

"I don't know, Ry. It could be anything, you could just be..." He cut himself off before he could say anything insensitive.

"Hallucinating? Is that what you think? That I'm making all of this up?" He asked, looking so hurt, Shane's chest tightened.

"That's not what I mean at all. But it could have a logical explanation, it doesn't have to be ghosts. You've been really overworking yourself lately, I always tell you to get more sleep and eat enough, you have to take care of yourself, Ryan." Shane reached out to put a hand on his arm, and squeeze gently. He was more serious, seeing how much this incident actually affected Ryan.

"I know what I felt, Shane. And it keeps happening, I can't sleep anywhere outside my house and even then I keep waking up in the middle of the night every single day, because what if today it will happen in my room, too? I just want it to fucking stop." Ryan said quietly, he sounded so genuinely exhausted it nearly broke Shane's heart. He should've taken this more seriously from the beginning. Ryan was also staring at Shane's hand forgotten on his arm, so he pulled it away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Even when he wouldn't have minded to keep it there.

"Alright, give me the theories then, little guy! Who or what is your main suspect? I'll get my detective brain ready." Shane grabbed his red pen and flipped open his notebook, ready to connect some goddamn dots. He wrote Ryan's Flirty Ghost Suspects on the top of the page in big blocky letters and showed it to him, delighted by the laugh Ryan gave him when he read it.

"You're such an idiot," Ryan muttered, shaking his head a bit like he couldn't believe it himself. It was an insult, but Shane heard the fondness and gratefulness behind those words.

"Well, I didn't know how to bring it up, because you'll think it's stupid, but the main suspect is uhh- You."

"Me?" Shane's eyebrows nearly rose up to his hairline. "Why would I be holding your hand while you're trying to sleep?"

He laughed, way too nervously for his own liking. If Ryan figured out that Shane has feelings for him he'll have to deal with that right then and there and he wasn't even ready to fully accept those feelings himself, hoping that ignoring them would make them go away one day. It was about two years of constant pining later when he stopped hoping. The little fuckers weren't going anywhere.

"I mean, not you but it only seems to happen when you're around. And when you're also asleep. Probably. I don't know that yet." Ryan shrugged, helplessly. It did sound pretty dumb when he said it out loud, but it was all he could go by.

"Well, we're having a sleepover then. Your place, today. If your schedule is clear." Shane said, without giving it any consideration, and immediately regretting it. Well, he can't back out now, can he?

"What, why?" Ryan looked up from the process of gathering his papers, eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

"Because we're going to investigate, that's why. We will test your theory. Sleep in the same room, at your place, so we can also check if it's ghost-proof or not."

"Alright, I'm in." Ryan shrugged, because what could go wrong?

A lot can go wrong, apparently.

"Come on, man you can't sleep on the couch, think of your back. It's almost even too small for me." Ryan snorted when Shane came up with the ridiculous idea of crashing on his couch. He spent a night on it, after having a little too much to drink to find his bedroom successfully. It was the most uncomfortable he felt in his life, the following day.

"Where would I sleep anyway? We wanted to test if we really need to be in the same room for it to happen.

"Good point." Shane sat up with a defeated sigh from where he was laying on the couch, legs dangling off the side. "What do you suggest then?"

"I don't know, the bed? We slept in the same bed before, it won't be weird." Ryan sounded like he tried to convince himself too.

"Sure, we can use the bed then." Shane stood and walked towards Ryan's bedroom, just like that. Like the thought of sleeping in the same bed with Ryan didn't make his hands shake with nerves or excitement, maybe a little bit of both, like it made Ryan's. And it probably didn't, Ryan thought, disappointment squeezing at his chest.

Shane's been only in Ryan's bedroom a handful of times, so it felt a little awkward, having him there and not for the reason of Shane pushing him down on the bed, kissing him silly. Ryan stopped that fantasy right there before it had gotten out of hand. Sleeping together would be awkward enough, he didn't need an accidental boner on top it all.

Instead, he focused his attention on the clothes strewn across his unmade bed, and on the chair in front of his desk, painfully aware of how messy his room was. They came here directly after work, hung out and watched a movie they both wanted to see but never had the time for.

"Sorry for the mess, I haven't had the chance to clean up," Ryan said, embarrassed, scrambling to clean the clothes off the bed and throw them into his closet as an impromptu attempt at cleaning. Shane put his hands on his shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. Ryan stared back, taken aback and vaguely aware of his face burning.

"Calm down, Ryan. It will be alright. I'm here so the ghost can't get you." He had this soft, barely teasing smile on his face and Ryan thought it was insanely unfair how handsome Shane was. How sweet and understanding, even when he thought all of what they were doing was horseshit. How could anyone possibly expect him to not fall in love?

"And anyway, if it turns out that I'm the ghost, you just have to learn to live with it." He added with a shit eating grin and let go of him.

"I'm not an expert but I'm pretty sure if you'd be a ghost you'd know about it, big guy." Ryan huffed, finding himself smiling fondly at his friend once again.

"You don't know that. Maybe I don't know I'm dead. It happens in movies all the time"

"I would know if you'd be dead!"

"You could be a figment of my imagination in the afterlife." Shane deadpanned.

"God, just shut up." Ryan snorted, shoulders shaking from laughter as he goes through his closet to find something for Shane to sleep in. Finding a shirt that fit was manageable, they were roughly wearing the same size. Pants, however, those are difficult. Anything that Ryan owned was most probably way too short and small for Shane. They never had this problem when Ryan was sleeping over at Shane's, all of his clothes are baggy on him.

"I can just sleep in my underwear if that's cool with you. It doesn't bother me." Shane suggests after a few moments of awkward silence of Ryan rummaging through his closet. He turned towards him, considering it for a moment.

"It doesn't bother me either," Ryan said, you know, like a liar.

"Shane, your elbow is digging in my back."

"Sorry." There was some shifting from behind Ryan, and then a knee was pressed against the back of his thigh.

"Still bad."

"Your bed is too small, I have to pull up my legs."

"My bed is normal sized, your fucking bone stilts are too long!"

"Stop insulting them, you'll hurt their feelings."

Ryan made a frustrated noise into his pillow and turned around to face Shane, they were closer than he thought they would be. He wasn't able to make out a lot of him in the dark, but Shane was definitely looking at him, he could see the outline of his messy hair, and one of his bony shoulders, his collarbone, peaking out from under the shirt, begging for Ryan to kiss it. His gaze flicked back at Shane's who was still just looking at him, with this unreadable expression that broke as soon as Ryan spoke, quietly.

"Here. This is better."

"Yeah, it is." Shane murmured, almost dazed.

It took a while for Ryan to fell asleep, Shane has been softly snoring next to him for a while before he could doze off too. Shane's breathing actually calmed him down a lot, it was something to focus his attention on, trying to sync it with his own and shortly, he was out like a light.

Until he woke up in the middle of the night, to the weight of a hand on his own. His eyes snapped open and he almost let out a yelp. A weak whimper was what came out instead, that he's really glad nobody heard when he realized Shane's arm was tucked under him, pulling him close in his sleep. His other hand rested gently on Ryan's own between them.

Ryan would've laughed in relief if he wouldn't have been chest to chest pressed against Shane, him breathing into Ryan's neck. Oh God, how was he supposed to go to back to sleep like that?

Somehow he managed to do so, convincing himself that if Shane's hand was on his the demon/ghost couldn't do shit. It sounded reasonable at three in the morning. As for the awkwardness of them basically cuddling, well, he thought morning-Ryan can deal with that. Sleep-deprived, 3AM-Ryan buried his face into Shane's hair, breathing him in, indulging in all that he can take before the morning comes and they probably won't ever talk about it again, in favor of not fucking up their friendship.

When the morning did come, Ryan hoped, before even opening his eyes, that Shane would stay, that they would talk, and maybe, if things go right they would make out, among other things. Once again, he painfully had to come to the realization that his life wasn't a Hallmark movie because Shane was gone. And no, he hadn't been in the kitchen, making breakfast, or in Ryan's small bathroom, running the shower. Ryan couldn't rush up to him and finally yank his stupid face into a kiss, so they could laugh about it later. Shane just fucking left and the dread that settled in Ryan's stomach stubbornly stayed there throughout the whole day.

What was even worse is that Shane had acted as nothing happened. He cheerily told Ryan at their desks that "You see, no ghosts were assaulting you,  I'm not related to your ghost-problem!"

Ryan had no care for the stupid ghost anymore. How was he supposed to ask Shane to explain himself when he had no right to do so in the first place? He could've asked Why were you gone in the morning? or You could've texted me at least. and most importantly,  I wanted you to stay.

Instead, he laughed, and shut his mouth, afraid of the answers he'd receive. And that was it, they both gone back to staring at their screens. They were back to square one then, always afraid to take the final big step, that leap of faith, because Ryan was kind of a coward.

But then Ryan realized something, as he looked at Shane, really looked at him. His usually elegantly messy hair was even more of a disaster like he kept carding his hands through it the whole morning. His eyes were tired too, for someone who had enough sleep, Ryan should know, he was right there. Shane acted well put together, but Ryan realized right then and there that Shane was kind of a coward too.

When Ryan finally decided to get his head out of his ass and kiss Shane, they were staying overnight at a supposedly haunted cabin just at the edge of the endless forest behind it. It was creepy as hell, to say the least, so Ryan was glad the cabin had only one room, where they put down their sleeping bags, closer to each other than they normally would, because it was pretty chilly out there.

None of them made a big deal out of it when it was time to go to bed they set up the night cameras and a comfortable silence fell upon them, only broken by one of them quietly snorting at something they saw on social media.

Ryan doesn't remember falling asleep, but he was certainly woke up by an arm around his waist, and a hand on top of his. Similarly to that night, he woke up cuddled up to Shane. Ryan didn't even open his eyes, his racing heart somewhat calmed down, because it was just Shane, but holy fuck it was Shane. Ryan didn't know what exactly gave him the courage, it could've been the fact that it was probably around 2 or 3 AM, and everything felt less real. He knew if he didn't kiss Shane then and there, he'd never do it.

So he leaned up, eyes still closed, aiming for Shane's lips. He mostly got it right, but he wasn't prepared for how abnormally hot they felt. That's when Ryan realized that something was very wrong. He opened his eyes. It wasn't Shane looking back at him, but a pitch black person shaped mass instead. It had horns, and bright red eyes, boring right into his soul.

There was silence for a second, then two, then Ryan screamed, scrambling backward, away from that demonic thing, and Shane right behind it, who bolted right up into a sitting position, woken by Ryan screaming fucking murder in the middle of the night.

"What the hell, Ryan? Are you okay?"

Ryan barely heard him over the blood rushing into his ears at the sight of the demon gradually phasing onto Shane, melting into him as if it belonged there. And Shane wasn't affected by it at all, still staring at him, concerned and lips moving, the words never reaching Ryan. He just saw his friend get possessed, with his own two eyes and he felt like he was gonna pass out.

Suddenly Shane was in front of him, hands on Ryan's shoulders, telling him to breathe and it felt like Ryan was slammed right back into his body, he was breathing again, taking big gulps of air.

"I think I kissed a demon." Was the first thing he blurted out when he finally felt stable enough to talk.

"What?" Shane starts laughing, and sure, the sheer panic which he said that with is kind of funny, but this was serious stuff. And oh God, Shane was probably possessed and Ryan didn't know what the hell to do.

"Ry? Calm down, it's okay. I'm here, I'm here." Shane's voice had gone soft, and deep, his thumb rubbed soothing circles into Ryan's shoulder. "Tell me what happened, alright?"

"I woke up to uh, someone hugging me. I thought it was you. And when I opened my eyes, it was this black mass, with red eyes and- and horns. I think it was a demon, it must have been. And I think- are you possessed? I just saw the thing going inside you when you woke up. It's- I'm terrified, dude. Please tell me you're not possessed."

Ryan just noticed how violently he was shaking and gripping Shane's arms desperately.

"I'm not possessed, I promise. I'm alright, see?"

Shane's smile hadn't quite reached his eyes, it was gone as soon as it showed up, leaving his lips in a thin line. In the faint light of the flashlight of Shane's phone that he probably turned on when Ryan was freaking out he could see how pale he was. He almost looked scared, which definitely didn't soothe Ryan's nerves.

"What's going on Shane? You know something that I don't."

"Did you just try to kiss me?" Shane asked, blatantly avoiding the subject. "You said you thought I was the one hugging you and then you kissed it. Does that mean you wanted to kiss me?"

"I- yeah? I do," Ryan stammered, eyes wide and possibly just as scared as he was two minutes ago. "But that's not the point now, stop avoid-"

Shane's lips were on his, effectively shutting him up and Ryan lost all of his willpower, melting into him. Every thought and worry he previously had got thrown out the window because Shane fucking kissed him, he even chased after Ryan's lips after he had to pull back to breathe, and that was a hell of a thought.

"I'll explain everything. Later, not now. I'm not possessed, you're not haunted and I've been a little in love with you for years now." Shane was smiling, he looked just as hopeful as Ryan felt.

"Okay, fine. I'm probably crazy, but I trust you. By the way, I'm a little in love with you too," Ryan huffed, his heart picked up the pace again, because fuck, everything got so real all of a sudden. The way Shane grinned at him was so worth that confession, he would say it over and over again just to see him smile like that for the rest of his life. He sure had it bad, and he couldn't even care, his heart was so full for this idiot of a man in front of him.

"But if you stab me in my sleep I will haunt your ass so hard, Shane, I swear to God!"

"Is that a metaphor for something? Haunting my ass real hard? Sounds kinky." Shane winked, just to annoy him. Ryan bristled, clearly giving Shane the reaction he was looking for because he had that smug grin on his face again and Ryan was amazed by the fact that he's allowed to kiss it off whenever he pleases.

"Shut up, you're such an asshole."

Shane indeed shut up, pressing his lips against Ryan's again. And again, and again until none of them felt the need to saying anything else.

[elsaclack]

imma just state for the record that while i really want you to get on writing the next chapter of the royalty AU, i also REALLY REALLY WANT YOU TO WRITE ANOTHER SEGMENT FROM YOUR OLD “JAKE CAN SENSE AMY’S FEELINGS” SOULMATE AU LAKSJDFLAKSDJF 😍😭💕 (idk if the old drabbles still exist online at this point but wow i think about that AU maybe once every 16 minutes, i’m a mess)

HELLOOOOOOO ERICA i’m not even sure if you remember sending this to me, it’s been sitting in my ask box for THAT LONG!!! but it’s been too long since i’ve been able to write anything i’m really REALLY proud of so i decided that tonight is the night!! and when i went to my ask box to knock out a prompt, this one literally started writing itself!!!!

lmao!!!!

SO YEAH u said another segment from the soulmates can feel each other’s emotions au and i thought what better segment to write than the one you liked the most out of the old ones that i STUPIDLY forgot to save/crosspost before i deleted!!! aka i rewrote it LMAO

it’s. Different than it was before but that’s because i had no idea what i was doing before and now i kind of have half of an idea about what i’m doing lmao it references one of the other one-shots and i’m about 95% sure i still have that one as a google doc so after i copy and paste this bad boy into a google doc, i’ll double check that i still have that other one too :-))))))))))))))

ANYWAYS THANK YOU FOR THIS AND THANK YOU FOR THE ROYALTY AU I PROMISE I WILL FINISH IT PLEASE ACCEPT THIS AS AN APOLOGY FOR BEING SO FREAKING LATE ON UPDATING LMAO

Amy’s front door is incredibly old.

There are places between the grains of wood in which the paint has seeped and morphed together before it dried, Jake notes.

He’s been staring at said grains for the better part of five minutes now - or, at least, that’s how long he’s been aware of the fact that he’s been staring at said grains. It’s really stupid, all things considered. Stupid that he’s paralyzed on her doorstep when he’s trudged across it more times than he can count. Stupid that he’s been standing her motionless for so long, he’s certain he looks like a weird stalker to any of her neighbors who might be looking through their peepholes out into the hall. Stupid that with every second that passes, the ice cream in this plastic bag melts a little more.

Stupid that every time he inhales, he feels her split and aching heart, feels her loneliness, feels her bitterness, all as real and intimate as if they are his own.

Something happened half an hour ago. He’s not entirely sure what - hasn’t tried sussing it out beyond the initial bombardment - all he really knows is that he was home, on his couch, content with his Jurassic Park with limited commercial interruptions, and then it felt like the whole earth was falling to pieces and he knew.

So maybe he is sure about what happened - she’d mentioned as she left the precinct earlier that she had dinner plans with Teddy tonight. And it’s odd, how beyond his immediate concern for her, he feels his own undeniable sense of hope rising. His soulmate - who doesn’t know she’s his soulmate - is single once again.

Finally.

Maybe, he’d told himself as he mindlessly snatched his keys off the counter and jogged out of his apartment. Maybe.

“Amy?” He calls as he raps his knuckles against the door. Her emotions flicker in a familiar rhythm against his breast - a split-second of surprise, a mix of confusion and apprehension, a lick of irritation. “Ames, it’s me. You home?”

(Of course he knows she’s home, but this is all for her benefit, he’s not going to come gallivanting in ten minutes into her single-hood toting ice cream and a declaration of his undying love and an oh, yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you I’m your soulmate -)

Her apprehension and irritation are gone now, giving way to a much larger portion of pure confusion. “Jake?” he hears her voice moving, muffled, but close beyond the closed door. The light seeping out through the peephole flickers as her head moves by. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “Your drug store had a better deal on ice cream - two-for-one.” He hoists the bag up a little higher, as if the opaque brown plastic will back his claim. “I figured since I was already in the neighborhood, I’d come by with dessert.”

Her confusion grows more intense - the light has not returned to the peephole. “I told you I had a date tonight,” she says slowly.

He’s lucky she can’t feel his emotions - otherwise, she’d register the spike of panic jutting up in his chest. “Oh, that was tonight?” His voice cracks beneath the pressure of his scrambling ruse; the skin of his forehead is in danger of ripping for how grotesquely his brows have contorted into what he can only hope is an expression of shock. “I thought you said that was tomorrow!”

“No, tonight.”

“Maybe it really is time to invest in one of those planny-thingies.”

“Why, so you can keep track of my date schedule? And don’t pretend like you don’t know they’re called planners, you got me one for Secret Santa last year.” There’s a savagery to her tone echoed by a twist of pain in her chest; he opens his mouth, but her immediate pulse of regret gives him pause. “I’m sorry,” she says, now much quieter, and he can’t pretend to hide his concern any longer.

(It’s not like he’d have to work that hard to come up with an excuse - she’s practically an open book, especially to him, even with a closed door between them, and it certainly doesn’t help that he’s an amazing detective-slash-genius.)

��Are you okay?”

The pain in her chest seems to wrench a little wider, pierce a little deeper. “I don’t know,” she says, and the light in the peephole reappears a split-second before something solid thunks against the door from the other side.

(Her forehead, he’d be willing to bet.)

“Do you want me to leave?”

The part of her that seems to jump at that suggestion is a bit of a blow to his ego, but it’s nothing compared to what the skittish panic that flares to life the moment the question leaves his lips does. He hears her sigh again - hears the metallic sounds of a hand landing on the doorknob - hears silence. And then -

“No.”

- so small and quiet, he almost misses it.

“Do you want me to come inside?”

“I don’t know.”

And she really doesn’t, he notes.

“I promise I won’t judge,” he offers. “You don’t even have to tell me what happened if you don’t want to. If - if something, y’know, uh, happened. You don’t have to talk at all, we can just - we can sit and watch TV and eat ice cream and I can run my mouth until it’s just like white noise.”

She’s quiet as she deliberates. “What kind of ice cream?”

“Cherry Garcia, obviously.”

A pulse of gratitude and affection and something else he doesn’t exactly have a name for warms his chest as the lock on her front door slides out of place. “I just - I need to warn you,” she says before she opens the door. “Don’t say a word.”

She opens the door before he has a chance to clarify, and the moment she does he understands - it’s clear that she’s been crying. And he well and truly hates himself for the first thought that pops into his stupid reptilian brain:

She is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

Her cheeks are red - rubbed raw from her swiping fingers and probably tissues to blot away any running mascara that streaked down toward her jawline. There are no tears glistening in her eyes or clinging like dew drops to her eyelashes, but the whites of her eyes are still a little bloodshot, and the browns of her pupils are intense pools of chocolate that seem to pierce his very soul in the brief split-second she allows herself to meet his gaze. Even her lips look darker than usual - probably stains leftover from whatever lipstick she’d so carefully drawn on just to haphazardly wipe away.

It honestly takes him a minute to even register the fact that her hair is thrown up in a knotted, wild bun, and that her frame is essentially hidden beneath the baggy layers of a massively over-sized Cheap Trick concert t-shirt and the rattiest grey sweatpants he’s ever laid eyes on. All in all, he’s very obviously walked into the immediate aftermath of an Amy Santiago break-up.

And she is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

“I said don’t say a word.” she repeats, this time through grit teeth. He panics for a split second, ready to dump the ice cream on the floor and fling himself out the window if he’d subconsciously spoken that totally stalker-esque monologue out loud, before his awareness catches up to him and he realizes he’s been staring. Motionless and staring, actually. Or, well, more like motionless and gaping and staring. A quick assessment of her emotions confirms, she’s not feeling shock - she’s embarrassed and self-conscious. She thinks he’s judging her.

Well that simply won’t do.

“I’m just waiting for you to go turn the TV on so I can get spoons,” he says as he gestures toward the kitchen, hoping his bravado sounds more natural than it feels.

Suspicion has joined the maelstrom of emotions storming through her chest, but it only seems to manifest in her slightly narrowed eyes; she backs away a pace, and then two, before finally turning away and trotting out into her living room. He releases the breath still caught in his chest in one quick huff, and shakes his head as if to clear the cotton suddenly stuffed there as he makes his way toward her silverware drawer.

“It’s the third drawer to the right of the dishwasher,” he hears her call as he pulls the drawer open.

“I know,” he says, letting an ounce of indigence color his voice. “You think I don’t know where your silverware is?”

“I don’t know!” she says, and not for the first time he’s so grateful that she’s his soulmate - otherwise he’d be left wondering if she was kidding beneath the miles-thick layer of outrage ringing with her words, instead of feeling that little bud of amusement in the center of everything else. “Teddy never figured out where it was and we dated for nearly a year, you’ve only been over here, like, ten times!”

He’s also thankful for the wall standing between them at this moment - the wall that covers his involuntary wince, accented by stabbing the spoons through both pliant ice cream surfaces at the same time. “Well,” he says as he gracefully lifts both ice cream cartons and eases the drawer closed with his hip at the same time, “that’s the difference between me and Ted-odore - I’m a detective. I remember details.”

Her expression is equal parts disgruntled, thankful, and annoyed when he makes his way into her living room. “Teddy’s also a detective,” she reminds him as she plucks her carton of ice cream from his hand.

“Ah, but only I am an amazing detective-slash-genius,” he reminds her. They sit at the same time - her carefully, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch over one shoulder and folding a leg under her in one movement, him flopping back, the force of his body connecting with the cushions just short of hard enough to jostle the narrow table behind the couch.

It’s the end of the conversation for quite a while - long enough that they get through an entire episode of The Office without interruption, long enough that half of his ice cream is gone and his fingers are well and truly numb. It’s just long enough that he knows she’s absorbed in what she’s watching - her eyes never deviate from the screen, and the inner turmoil seems to quiet down to some distant back-burner in her mind. Just long enough, he thinks, for him to do a little surreptitious investigating from right here on her couch, without her ever noticing.

He turns to his right, away from her, pretending to cast around on the table behind the couch for a coaster upon which to set his ice cream. He already knows there’s a stack of three on the coffee table eight inches from his knees - the fourth is on the other side of the coffee table, beneath Amy’s quarter-finished ice cream - but he also happens to know that she has a nice set of geode-looking coasters stacked neatly on this table, equal parts artistic and utilitarian, and (if he’s not mistaken) identical to the ones he’d spotted at Captain Holt’s house some eighteen months earlier.

He pretends to grapple for them - they’re two inches to the right of where his hand is currently grasping - all while studying the scene laid out on the dining room table just visible from this angle. There are still dishes there - dirty dishes, if he’s not mistaken - which is, of course, highly uncharacteristic for the woman to whom they belong. It’s clear the meal was in progress when...something happened. Something abrupt and unexpected, something shocking - something that clearly rocked her to her very core, drudging up feelings of isolation and loneliness and a few others he recognizes from the dark weeks that followed his father leaving all those years ago.

He’s practically bursting at the seams with desperation to know why.

The light piano theme song plays over the end credits just as Amy loudly and pointedly clears her throat, and he winces as his fingers close over the coaster he was seeking. “You’re not as sly as you think you are, Mr. Genius,” she mutters as he rights himself on the couch again.

He sighs as he leans forward to set his coaster and carton on her coffee table. “You don’t have to talk about it,” he reiterates, and he knows from her quiet calm resonating near his heart that she truly understands that he means it. “I just - y’know, I wanna, um. Make sure that you’re okay, and stuff.”

She doesn’t look at him. The next episode is already queuing, seconds away from starting automatically, but her eyes are now glazed as she chews the inside of her cheek. Movement by her hip catches his eye - her fingers drum restlessly along the side of the remote, the only outward sign of her visceral inner turmoil, now back to center stage.

“I wanna talk about it,” she says haltingly, thumb mashing down on the pause button. “I do, I - I need to talk about it. I just -”

- don’t want to, he finishes in his mind after she falls silent again. Even if he didn’t have a front-row seat to the weighing of emotions happening in her gut, he could easily follow through her facial expressions - even the nano-expressions, the ones that really don’t even fully register before they’re gone, replaced by the next. 

“It - it sucks, okay?” she finally says. “This whole situation just sucks.”

He remains silent.

“We were, like ten minutes into dinner and everything was going fine. I was telling him about that perp Charles and I took out behind the bakery earlier, and how Charles refused to leave the scene until he’d sampled literally everything the bakery sold, and when I looked up I realized he’d spilled wine all over himself while I was talking but he hadn’t even noticed it because - because -”

She draws in a ragged inhale; he can feel it dragging like knives across his heart.

“I’ve never heard of a connection manifesting that late in someone’s life,” she says after a moment of composition. “I mean - I know it’s possible, obviously, I’ve read articles about it and everything, but I’ve never known anyone who’s had that happen to them. It’s always young kids to teenagers, that’s when it’s most common for the connection to start - Teddy’s thirty-seven years old. He didn’t think he was the receptive one in his partnership. He didn’t think he had a partner. But he does, and he felt them for the first time half-way through my story about Charles shotgunning a croissant. And it wasn’t me.”

The silence is thick and swelling in his head, and the temptation to scream the truth is almost overwhelming for all of two seconds. He’s not certain he would have been able to keep his composure, if not for her stark feelings of inadequacy roiling with her heartache radiating through his chest.

“That doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you,” he starts, far more tentatively than he would like. She rolls her eyes. “Hey, I mean it. There’s nothing wrong with you, Amy.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” she mutters, “you’ve felt your soulmate since you were seven years old. All I’ve had for my entire life is radio silence. Every single one of my brothers is the receptive one in their partnerships. I’m the only one of all my siblings. My parents had already met and were dating as teenagers when their connection started. I am literally the only person in my immediate family who doesn’t feel a connection. It’s not that outlandish to assume I’m the defect, here.”

“Maybe you’re just not the receptive one,” he counters, determination growing with every ounce of inwardly-focused disdain he feels pouring through her very veins. “Maybe there’s someone out there right now who can feel everything you’re feeling, who’s hurting just as bad as you are because you’re hurting so bad right now. Maybe there’s someone who’s been looking for you for his entire life, who’s looking that much harder so he can prove to you that you’re not defective, you’re not a mistake, you’re not worthless.” She’s staring at him full-on now, brows furrowed, intently focused on his every word. “You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful and amazing people I know, Ames. Your soulmate is out there and as soon as you find each other, I promise, this will all be worth the wait. Don’t be so mean to yourself because some chump missed out on the opportunity of a lifetime so he can go out hunting for a soulmate while covered in red wine stains. Okay?”

She seems to hesitate, before the corners of her mouth twitch against a smile. “Okay,” she says softly.

He’s not sure how and he’s not sure why, but he does know one thing: something in the air has shifted.

He isn’t able to put a name to it until three weeks later, when he finds himself back in that very same apartment on that very same couch, the very same ice cream in his hands, the very same episode queued up and ready to start on the television somewhere off to his right. He’s paying it very little attention, in all honesty - he’s far too enthralled by the gorgeous woman in the red dress on the other end of the couch, toeing off her heels beneath her coffee table and settling in in much the same position as before.

(Save for the silky black curls swept over one shoulder so as not to drip ice cream in them, of course.)

He’s watching her shift, watching the kinetic energy burn through her rolling ankles and curling toes and twitching nose and drumming fingers. She seems intently focused on her ice cream - the very same carton from which she’d eaten the last time he was here - but he knows there’s a level of awareness of his gaze on her.

Just as she knows that he knows.

It hits him here, in this moment: she knew.

“You knew,” he says. Her eyes flick up to his face and all at once, his suspicions are confirmed. “You knew!”

“Knew what?”

“The last time I was here, before I left, I felt something change. I couldn’t figure out what it was, but now I know - you knew I was your soulmate before I left that night, didn’t you?”

It’s the first time they’ve really talked about it since their confrontation in the evidence lock-up - since the electrifying kiss that followed it - and as her smile blossoms, her amusement peaks. “I had a feeling,” she corrects.

“What gave it away?”

“What, you mean how did I know? The kiss was a pretty good hint -”

“Yeah, but you weren’t really shocked after that. I mean, you were, but - not about it being me. What gave me away?”

“I knew three days ago when we were raiding the warehouse and I got ambushed by that guy and you came flying in before he could even pin me to the wall. But I had a feeling after you gave your little speech about how I’m basically the greatest human being on the planet and you mentioned my soulmate feeling emotions that I know I didn’t put into words.”

“Damn it,” he mutters, letting his shoulders fall back against the cushions behind him. She laughs, delighted, and the sound is like pure sunlight bubbling between his ribs. “After all these years, I can’t believe I just straight slipped up. Right to your face, too! I’d always assumed it would be Charles who screwed up.”

A wave of surprise washes over her, but she suppresses it a moment later. “We’ll talk more later,” she says with a smile. “Right now, I wanna try something else.”

She leans forward to set her carton on her coaster and a second later she pounces, pinning him back against the cushions, hovering over him. Her grin has gone Cheshire and her fingers are closing over his before pulling his own carton out of his hand; he releases a breathless laugh as she leans away, just far enough to reach the coffee table, before resuming her position over him. “This is new,” he says.

“It is,” she confirms. “Also new? You feeling unsure of something.”

“Hey,” he snaps, “I’m always unsure of things. You’ve never known because I’m good at hiding it.”

“Not anymore.”

She leans down before he can respond, until her lips are a breath away from his. He can feel his heart tripping in his chest and he knows she can feel it, too - breathless anticipation radiates and sparks like a livewire between them, igniting every last nerve ending, like a fuse lit seconds away from exploding. “Whoa,” he chokes, hands fumbling before landing on her hips.

“Intense,” she breathes back, apparently to enthralled by the build-up to dare take the plunge. “Did it always feel like this?”

“Never actually done this before,” he mutters.

She pulls back an inch - just far enough for him to see her roll her eyes in accompaniment with her wave of exasperation crashing through his chest. “I just mean - this, us, our - our connection. Was it always this intense?”

“No,” he shakes his head, acutely aware of the fact that his hands are still on her hips and he can feel the heat of her skin through the red material. “N-no, never. I mean - when you were feeling something intense, it was kind of strong? But now that it’s a two-way street, so to speak, it’s - everything is way more intense. Especially this.”

She hums thoughtfully, gaze fixated on a spot on the cushion just over his left shoulder, before she suddenly seems to remember herself and where she is. He grins up at her when she blinks herself back into focus - and the twist of affection in her chest is almost cruel for how blinding and savage it is.

“Wow,” she breathes, lifting up a little higher to press her fingertips to her sternum.

“Sorry,” he mumbles a bit sheepishly. “I just - I’m really into you.”

“I can feel that,” she says with a laugh. Her hand falls from her chest much closer to his face than before; he briefly closes his eyes at the feeling of her fingers carding through his hair, part curious, part reverent. “I’m really into you, too.”

He grins again before lightly pinching her hip, laughing when she thumps both heels of her hands against his chest in retaliation. “I can feel that,” he echoes before bending his knees, bringing her teetering forward, back to her original position of a breath away from his lips. This time he cranes his head up to catch her before she can draw back; like both times before, the meld of her lips against his brings everything else to a screeching halt. Her hands splay out gently on either side of his face as his slide up the dips of her waist to skim up her back, thumbs sweeping out over the defined ridge of her lowest ribs.

She pulls away after an eternity, after a split second, lips dark and shiny as she gasps for air; she closes her eyes when he reaches up to move her hair back over her shoulder, so that nothing impedes his view of her face. “You were right,” she mumbles breathlessly.

“Huh?”

“You were right,” she repeats, with a little more conviction than before. “This was worth the wait. You were worth the wait.”

It’s the last coherent thing either one of them says until morning.

[imbeccablee]

Kids

(tumblr mobile wouldn't let me post a link so i guess y'all get this then. it's on ao3 as well like all the others are)

Summary:

I'm just a kid

And life is a night mare

I'm just a kid

I know that it's not fair

Nobody cares 'cause I'm alone

And the world is

Having more fun then me

Tonight

-

Deku is lying and Ochako is going to find out why.

-

Ochako knew he was lying to her. She knew it in the way he held himself and the way he stuttered through his words. She knew it through his eyebags and in his sluggishness.

She saw it in his ambling walk, in how he flinched away from sudden movement. She saw it in how he lost fight after fight in class, in how Aizawa pulled him aside to talk because it was so bad. She saw it in how he nodded to his teacher and didn't get better still.

She heard it in his voice and in his yawns. She heard it in his excuses, how he told her not to worry, he's fine. She heard him lie to her for days, weeks on end.

It hurt.

She saw, heard, and knew Deku lied to her, but for the life of her, she couldn't fathom why.

-

It was late. Ochako’s clock read 3 am. Having woken in a start as her parched throat couldn't bear it any longer, she'd ventured downstairs for a glass of water.

She went for the cup cabinet blindly, not bothering with the lights. It was too late for that, and she'd be in and out anyway.

It took a few tries to get a grasp on a cup, and as she turned and walked toward the sink, she tripped on her feet and fell to the ground. The cup slipped from her hand as she shrieked at the sudden change in direction. She landed as the cup’s shattering seemed to echo in the empty kitchen.

She winced as she laid there, taking her throbbing knees and palms in stride. Oh well, she thought at the sight of the shards of glass. She was fully awake, though that was more a curse than a blessing.

As she gathered up the broken shards, the front door opened.

Ochako froze. The door clicked shut and there was a scuffle of feet. A locker opened and closed, and then there were quiet steps.

Ochako gulped and slowly looked around the corner of the counter beside her. In the darkness, it was hard to tell exactly who was ambling toward the elevator. They looked about average height, and wore a white t-shirt that shown in the dark. Ochako squinted.

Whoever-they-are made it to the elevator and pressed the up arrow. It opened immediately, bathing the living area in a rectangle of light, and Ochako gaped.

If Deku found it odd the elevator was on the first floor instead of one of the floors with the rooms on it, he didn’t act on it. He only yawned as he entered and rode it up to his floor.

Ochako stood from her kneeling position, broken glass all but forgotten. She stared at the elevator doors like they would explain why Deku was out so late.

She thought briefly of the current mystery she was trying to solve, but shook her head quickly. It… honestly wasn’t any of her business.

She cleaned up the broken glass and headed back upstairs without ever getting her drink of water.

-

The next night she woke again in the middle of the night. She laid staring at her ceiling with a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, filling her with nervous energy.

She turned to her door, glanced at the clock. What if she just…

She shook her head, and violently threw herself to face the wall. She needed to let it be. Deku can do whatever he wants after hours. Even if that means leaving the dorms at an ungodly time. Even if that means losing hours of precious sleep. Even if that means worrying the hell out of Ochako.

…

Fuck it.

Ochako flung back the covers and speed walked down the hall, careful not to wake any of the other residents on her floor. She took the stairs this time, leaping down two at a time.

The first floor was dark when she arrived, just like last night. It was near midnight again, so assuming Deku had gone out around the same time again, he should be back soon.

She sat in the kitchen area, pressed against one of the floor cabinets with her knees to her chest.

“I’m just making sure he gets back okay,” she said to herself. “Nothing more…”

So she waited. And waited. And waited some more.

When she was finally falling asleep in her cramped position, she heard the front door open and snapped to attention. She scrambled to her knees and peaked ever so slightly around the corner.

There he was again, just… sluggishly walking to the elevator. He seemed to sway on his feet as he waited for the elevator to come, and still didn’t notice her. She couldn’t bring herself to call out to him, too scared to break this trance he seemed to be in.

(Truth be told, she was afraid of confronting him about all she’s been feeling lately. Funny how she told him he could come to her with any of his problems and when he didn’t, she got all upset, when she did the same exact thing.

Ironic, isn’t it.)

He made it onto the elevator in one piece and rode it up to his floor. Ochako slumped down on the kitchen floor and didn’t move until the clock hit two am.

She was questioned the following morning why she looked so dead to the world, but she only shook her head and willed her eyes to stay away from her friend, even as he worriedly glanced at her from time to time. Call her petty, but she almost felt he didn’t deserve answers if she didn’t either.

-

They fell into a routine, though Deku didn’t know it. She would wake suddenly in the night and would rush downstairs to wait an unspecified amount of time for Deku to return from god knows where. The time it took him to get back ranged from ten minutes to a full two hours.

She would hunch in the kitchen, willing herself awake in the wee hours of the morning just so she could make sure he came home safe.

It is two weeks into this “arrangement,” that the routine is broken.

Ochako awakened and went downstairs just as normal. She waited like she usually did, and Deku came back after some time too. Only he didn’t get into the elevator when it came. The open doors bathed him in a bright light he squinted at, but he made no move to get in. He stared and swayed until the doors shut again, and then stared and swayed some more.

It was unbearable.

Ochako gripped the edge of the cabinet tightly in her hands, rooted to the spot like always. Her hesitance always cost her answers, but she couldn’t find it in herself to move.

That is… until Deku collapsed.

She has seen him fall many, many times, but nothing like this. Those other times he had been hurt, sure, but he’d either gotten up or been helped up if not unconscious. He’s also just clumsy sometimes. But now, seeing him just fold into himself and fall forward, not due to some final hit, but purely out of what looked like exhaustion is… scary. Before, she’d known he was tired, overworked, but…

Ochako felt herself fly over to Deku. His knees had caught him and he laid with his forehead pressed to the carpet. Ochako slid to her knees beside him, wincing at the rub burns immediately appearing on them. He was gasping over and over, like the breath he was taking in just wasn’t enough to satisfy.

Her hands hovered above him restlessly, not entirely sure what to do. “Deku, Deku,” she murmured, trying to rouse him from whatever state he was in. Finally, she grabbed him by the shirt and shoulders and yanked him into a sitting position.

The tears on his face were not an uncommon occurrence, but still she found her heart breaking at the sight.

The movement seemed to wake him in some way. The gasping subsided, but his breathing was still heavy as if he’d been running nonstop for the time he’d been gone. Which… taking in the sweat staining his shirt and the godawful smell coming from him, Ochako wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he was. “U—Uraraka? What—What’re you—”

“You’re such an idiot,” she said, crying too, and pulled him into a tight hug.

He was tense, and yeah, maybe hugging someone who was obviously freaking out wasn’t the best idea, but goddammit Ochako was fucking terrified. She knew she did something right because he melted in her arms and bawled his eyes out for some unknown reason. That was fine, though, for the moment, even if she desperately wanted answers for why her best friend was sneaking off in the middle of the night to run, or something.

Because judging by how he grasped helplessly at her shirt and how he sobbed apologies and the like into her shoulder, she could tell he needed this.

Honestly? Holding onto him after weeks of barely holding in her desperate worry? She needed this too.

It was a long while before either of them talked. They sat sprawled over one another in front of the elevator until the latter part of the early morning, nursing those relieved feelings after a good crying session.

“Deku?” Ochako finally said.

“Yeah…?”

“Please tell me what’s wrong.”

He didn’t. At least, not in the way Ochako wanted him to. He spoke vaguely about pressure and about the fear that’s been building in him ever since the beginning of the year. He told her his goal and how he sometimes didn’t think he could cut it, that he wasn’t trying hard enough, and that he was just so tired. Tired of the pressure and the worry and the constant threat of villain attacks. He said he knew what he was getting into when he signed up for hero school. He said he had thought he could handle it.

He said he thought he was wrong.

And god, did that make her angry.

“Are you…” Deku jerked his head up from the dipped position he had held it in. “Are you kidding me?”

He looked mildly hurt, and sure, maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words, but imagine if you heard this amazing, absolutely inspiring person who was kind and caring and everything you wanted to be, straight up say he didn’t have what it took to be a hero.

“No, I mean—are you literally kidding me? You. Midoriya Izuku. Are saying you don’t have what it takes to be a hero. After everything that’s happened? After you saved me before we became friends, after you saved Todoroki when you were supposed to be fighting him, after you helped save Eri when she was in the darkest place possible.” That restless, nervous energy from before was back and was pumping her full of love-induced rage. God, Deku’s such an idiot. “You’re so good and caring and you just want to save people, what are you even saying, Deku?”

Deku was crying again, shaking his head. “It’s all—so much, too much! I can’t—look at me, I’m dead on my feet, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t—do anything, I’m just so scared all the time, I—!”

“You think all these heroes out there are sleeping soundly every night? We’ve—they’ve—So much has happened over so little time, I can’t even begin to unpack it all.” Ochako cupped Deku’s face to keep him looking at her. “Deku, Deku, hey. C’mon. We’re—We’re just kids, Deku. Just a bunch of kids wanting to be adults. We’re allowed to be scared. We’re allowed to be affected. We’ve been through some scary shit.” Deku huffed a watery laugh and Ochako smiled. “We’re kids, Deku, stop forcing yourself to be an adult.”

He leaned against her, his forehead pressed into the curve of her neck. “... When did everything get so… fucked up?”

Ochako laughed. “I think it’s always been fucked up, Deku.” She paused a moment. “Hey, Deku?”

“Mm?”

“I just wanted to say, um… I don’t know what the future holds, or how the rest of high school will go, but… no matter what, you’re already a hero. To me, to Iida, to Todoroki… to everyone. You—yeah, just… know that.”

He gave a wheezing sob and wrapped her in another hug

The next day they were both worried over by their friends due to their ragged, red-eyed state. Mina made crude comments on the coincidence that both of them looked the same. They waved off their friends’ worries and shared a look over the island. Deku averted his eyes first and Ochako sighed.

Yeah, sure, he didn’t tell her what was really bothering him. Or he did, but just in the absolute vaguest way possible. But she guessed he’s entitled to that. There are some things you can’t reveal, not all at once. Ochako is nothing if not patient, and she knew now he would go to her if he ever needed help.

But if all she ever is is a shoulder to cry on, then dammit she’s done her job.

Izuocha Week 2k18

Prompt:

Strength/Weakness

[moonprincess92]

you know i want all of the AUs!!! but especially that coffeeshop AU — with sprinkles of them becoming roommates and having to fake date for some mysterious reason. :D (but i‘d be happy with just the coffeeshop AU tbh.) but you know i love all of your AUs (stories in general) and love you! ❤️

it’s no coffee shop au, but i managed to do the other two - anything for you, girl! (also on ao3) 

Jyn was literally already halfway to her parent’s house when she got themessages.

JynnjYYYNNNNNfuck my life apparently danielle is getting marriedFUCKFKJGIN MARRIEDPLS ANSWER THIS IS AN OFFICIAL CODE BLUE

She’d only glanced at them as she drove, but upon seeing the forebodingDanielle’s name she immediately pulled over to read them through properly.

Oh.

Oh, shit.

She hastily texted back,

AREU FUCKING KIDDING ME TELL ME UR KIDDING 

Only two cars whizzed on by before he replied,  

I am NOT kidding, she’s fuckingannounced it on fb????

In the next second, Jyn was furiously pulling up said Facebook, searchingfor Danielle’s profile. She was technically still friends with the woman, butonly so that she could retain the prime stalking privileges that being Facebookfriends provided. If she could, she would have blocked and deleted herMONTHS ago, but Cassian had begged her to keep her around ‘just in case, Idon’t know, so I can avoid her I guess’. It didn’t take much scrolling. Themost recent post of hers was an engagement announcement to some guy she hadliterally never even heard of, complete with professional photo spread andcurrently over a thousand likes.

Out of spite, Jyn angry-faced it.

JUSTCHECKED, MATE U WEREN”T KIDDING

OF COURSE IM NOT KIDDING

Areu drunk yet????

I’m certainly on my way

Jyn sighed, staring at her phone. She’d been planning on meeting up withher parents for dinner for months now. With her living several cities away andtheir ever-increasing schedules, it was always hard to find the time… but thisparticular crisis called for significant action. She quickly texted Cassian oncemore,

Areu at home??

I am currently on the couch of pain,yes

Don’tmove, I’ve just left work, I’ll be there soon

Before she could receive the expected ‘no, no, you go see your familylike you planned don’t worry about me’ messages, she quickly called herparents.

“Hello?”

“Mama? It’s me,” Jyn said. “Look, I know we’ve had to reschedule thisdinner like three times now, and I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to make ittonight either.”

“What’s going on this time?” Lyra Erso sighed. 

“Cassian’s ex-fiancée has just announced that she’s engaged again.”

“Oh, shit,” Lyra said at once, any trace of disappointment instantly gone. “Seriously, Danielle?”

“You understand the gravity of the situation.”

“I thought they’d only just broken up?”                

“It was four months ago,” Jyn admitted. “But four months to get over athree year relationship, find someone else, fall in love, AND get engagedagain? Fuck her!”

“Jyn, go home, seriously,” Lyra insisted. “Make sure that boydoesn’t drown himself in the bathtub or something.”

“I think drowning in alcohol is more likely – thanks Mama,” Jyn said inrelief. “Can you explain to Papa?”

“Of course – OI, GALEN!” Lyra’s booming voice suddenly screeched down the other end of theline. “CASSIAN’S EX GOT ENGAGED AGAIN!”

“The girl who dumped him two weeksbefore the wedding? How dare she!”

“I KNOW RIGHT?”

Jyn figured to hang up then. It didn’t take long for her to hang a quicku-turn and swing back in the direction she had come from, but it was longenough to notice the ten or so new messages that had apparently been sentto her as she’d spoken to her parents.

“Don’t even start,” she said upon storming straight into theirapartment. “I was coming back no matter what you said, this is a Code Blue forsure.”

“Did I even use the right one? Which one was Code Blue again?” Cassiansaid in resignation. He didn’t even bother getting up from the sofa, where hewas currently laid splayed out with a half-empty bottle of wine sitting on thecoffee table next to him.

“Code Blue is ‘emotionally my life has gone balls up and I need you’,”Jyn reminded him. “Code Red is ‘I fucked up and need immediate assistance’. Wesave Code Black for ‘I’M DYING’.”

“I don’t know, I think this could be a Code Black as well, Jyn.”

“You’re not dying yet,” she snorted, snagging the wine as she sat downon the other end of the sofa, lifting Cassian’s legs out of the way anddropping them back into her lap. She peered at the bottle in her hand andasked, “Could you have bought a cheaper bottle of wine?”

“I wasn’t spending any more on her.”

“Fair point,” Jyn threw some back. Cassian gestured for her to pass itbetween them, but she shook her head before hastily drinking more. “No, no, Iclearly have to catch up here.”

“I’m not THAT drunk.”

“Try and get off this sofa.”

He glared at her for several moments.

“Case in point.”

Cassian groaned, flinging an arm over his eyes. “Honestly, how did I endup here?” he said and Jyn felt for him, she really did. When you knew someonefor nearly 10 years, you saw a lot of heartbreaks and aches. From when they’dfirst met as awkward 18-year-old’s, to now in their late twenties and honestlyjust trying to Adult without dying, the two of them had been there throughevery single disastrous relationship they’d ever had. She’d been therebefore, during and after the Danielle fiasco, and he’d been right at her sideas she’d slashed the tyres of every ex who’d ever cheated on her (tugging onher arm and practically begging that they leave before they get caught, but he’dstill never let her do it alone). There was little that they hadn’t donetogether, or that they wouldn’t do for each other, to be honest. She rubbed hisshin where it lay over her said,

“It’s gonna be ok.”

“IS IT?” Cassian pressed his fingers hard over his eyes. “I appreciatethe support but Jyn, she’s engaged. Three years apparently wasn’t even enough time to want to marry me,but four months and she’s more than happy to say yes to some other bastard? Whothe hell even IS that guy?”

“Cassian, we’ve established that Danielle is a flighty bitch who can’tdecide what she wants and you’re better off without her,” Jyn sighed. “Do Ireally have to beat it into your head again?”

“Probably.”

She leaned over and whacked him affectionately. Thing was, the nightDanielle had called off the wedding was still a very vivid memory, even allthese months later. Literally two weeks before the day, and he had turned upoutside her door out of the blue at one am. He had only been living in his newapartment with his fiancée for three weeks at that point and her first reactionhad been to think welp, SOMEONE’Sdead. Instead, he’d looked at her with an expression that she couldn’t readand had told her simply,

“Danielle left me.”

“… fuck,” she’d said in reply.

And she really hadn’t known what else to say, because what the hell elseCOULD you say? Cassian had been so dedicated, so ready to be married, so deeplyin love that the idea that Danielle had just casually told him one night, “Hey,so I don’t really think I’m ready for marriage, sorry this didn’t work out,”seemed unfathomable.

Jyn had held out her arms and Cassian had immediately walked into them.

“Can I move back in with you?” he had sobbed into her neck.

“Of course,” she’d said back.

“ANYWAY,” she said now. “I might make more jokes and hit you some more,but I’m honestly sorry, Cassian. This sucks.”

“Yeah,” he muttered through his hands.

“You can cry, I won’t judge,” she smirked.

“Fuck you,” Cassian was already attempting to smoother the tears that wereleaking through and she damn well knew it. “Honestly, this is just mostlyembarrassing. Everyone knows that we were engaged only four months ago, and sheapparently wasn’t ready for marriage then but she’s suddenly ready NOW? WHY,JYN? FUCKING WHY.”  

“Hey, only a handful of people know that’s why she left,” Jyn pointedout. “If anything, everyone will be judging her for getting engaged again soquickly! That help at all?”

“A little. But I haven’t even told you the worst part yet.”

“Christ on a bike, there’s a worse part?”

“Brace yourself,” Cassian took a moment to apparently pull up somethingon his phone. In the next, he was handing her the device apparently showing atext conversation between himself and someone with the name ‘DO NOTENGAGE’. 

Hey, Cassian idk if you’ve seen, butI’m getting married!! I’dlove for you to be there, of course it’s a little whirlwind hahaso we haven’t had time to send out official invites but it’s onsat 5th Aug in southlake tahoe. PLS come, I’d love to see youagain!!!! Xxxalso feel totally free to bring a plus 1 ;)  

Jyn was honestly kind of in awe.

“Say the word,” she declared, staring at the offending message. “I swearto god, just say the word and I will fucking END her.”

“I’m not quite at that point, but I’ll let you know if I change mymind.”

“You’re not going. I cannot BELIEVE she had the guts to inviteyou!”

“About that…” Cassian cringed.

Oh, motherfucking shitballs.

“You already said you’d go, didn’t you?”

“Well, if I don’t go I look petty and clearly not over her!” Cassianhastily defended himself, snatching his phone back off her before she couldread his no doubt ‘omg I’d love to!!’ messages (not to mention promptly hurlinga fist into his head as well). “So I said yes out of spite, only now I thinkI’ve backed myself into a corner. I can’t go, but I can’t not go either.” 

“Christ on a bike, Cassian." 

"I know." 

“Well, if you think you’re going alone, you got another thing coming,”Jyn pointed out, grabbing the wine. Blimey, even she needed it now. “You’reshowing this bitch one way or another that she doesn’t have a hold on youanymore.”

“I appreciate your furiousness on my behalf,” Cassian said. “but believeme when I say I am in absolutely no headspace right now to go out and find adate.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I get you,” Jyn said. “Good thing this isn’t just awedding anymore, this is a fucking war. You can’t just take anyone, you need to take someone that is going tomake a statement. Someone that people will talk about for MONTHS after. Youneed to take the one person in the entire world that would piss her off themost.”

“So… you?”

She started a little.

She hadn’t actually been thinking of herself, but now that he mentionedit, it was suddenly the perfect plan. Danielle had quite famously never exactlytrusted the over-half-a-decade of friendship between her and Cassian, despiteJyn having attempted to date several other people over the last three years andCassian being the most devoted boyfriend she thought she’d ever seen. Herand Danielle had always played nice of course and there had even beenmoments when Jyn had managed to bring herself to maybe kind of like her, butthere had always been an undertone to their every interaction that just made itclear that at the end of the day, Danielle Livesay hated Jyn Erso’s guts andprobably always would.

There was no one else Cassian could possibly take that would annoy hermore.

“Yes, me,” Jyn said. “I’m serious, you take me as your date and Daniellewill flip her fucking LID, it will be perfect!”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“Good thing you’re not asking then,” Jyn declared. “I’m insisting andit’s decided. You got yourself a fake girlfriend! For the record, I’ll cuddleyou and give you a few kisses if she’s looking in our direction, but no tonguestuff ok?”  

Cassian just shook his head, trying not to laugh.

“You’re the fucking best, Jyn.”

“Of course I am. Now drink more wine, this is gonna be a longnight.” 

Of course the wedding was in fucking Lake Tahoe.

Last minute AND destination, Danielle was basically guaranteeing thatthe only people who would come were either only interested in a weekend away orwere the only ones who had no plans. Cassian’s jaw had been clenched basicallyever since they had left their apartment Friday afternoon, but steadily gotworse the closer they got to stepping inside the hotel for the ceremony.

“What do I say to her, whatdo I say–” he hissed frantically under his breath as they approached the nodoubt bloody expensive hotel. She insisted that he chill the fuck out, onlythat resulted in him shutting up and staying deathly silent instead.

"God, you’re not making this easy, mate,” she pointed out.“I think I liked it better when you were talking, I could at least tell ifyou were still alive or not.”

He just let out a strangled squeak. 

“Hey,” she said,reaching out and gripping his hand tightly, their fingers interwoven together.She brought them to her chest, holding him there and making him look at her.“Cassian, I get that this hurts but don’t make it about that. You can hurttomorrow, make tonight about revenge. Hold onto that feeling instead. We’llmake out in front of her a little, and then go and get smashed at the bar.Deal?” 

He nodded faintly. 

They were purposefully a little late to the ceremony, just to furtherprove the point that they didn’t actually give a fuck. They were quicklyushered in amidst some irritated looks from Danielle’s family. Jyn did noticethat only one of Danielle’s three sisters had apparently bothered to show up,and yet it seemed that nearly everyone from her office had taken the trip justto take advantage of the open bar later. They took up an entire row, lookingbored and passing a hip flask subtly between them.

Danielle naturally looked fucking stunning in her dress, and Jyn wassuddenly very glad that Cassian had insisted on tradition and not seeing itbefore their own wedding because turns out she was literally wearingthe exact same dress. Out of all the things to piss her off, Jyn had honestlythought it would be something more extreme, but nope. Apparently, a dress didit! That fucking dress, the one that had to be altered three times,that Jyn had helped her pick out, had reassured over manycomplimentary glasses of champagne that she looked beautiful in and thatCassian would love it, only to just turn around and use it to marry someoneelse instead… fuck her. Her husband-to-be looked kind of in shock, honestly, like hedidn’t quite know what he was doing up there in front of all these people.

Really, she knew the feeling.

Luckily, their strategic lateness meant that they had missed half theceremony, so they didn’t have to sit through too much of the gushing ‘I loveyou’s. They only caught the tail end of it, Danielle tearing up as she spokeher vows.

“Oh my god, I’m going to ruin my make-up,” she said, gaining some politelaughs. “Oh, Derek. Honestly, I don’t even know how to finish this. I thought Iknew what love was before we met, but turns out I had no idea. I am so, solucky that I found you and get to spend the rest of my life with you. I loveyou.”

Jyn glanced over at Cassian briefly as the vows wrapped up.

She had never seen the man go white before, but he was white as a sheetnow.

“I’m so glad that’s over,” he ended up grumbling through champagne onlya little while later. Thankfully, the reception was in full swing and honestly,it was almost worth all the emotional pain this weekend was so far causing justfor the sheer elaborance of it all. The dinner had been fucking amazing, and the vinyl windows had all beenrolled up to expose the ballroom to the open air and natural lakeside view.Lanterns criss-crossed the ceiling and with a DJ pounding out cheesy pop dancesongs, it was easy to get lost in a sea of alcohol and forget the whole‘getting married four months after getting dumped’ thing.

“I’m still pissed that she hasn’t even come over to talk to you yet,”Jyn pointed out. “What kind of fucking host doesn’t even talk to all theirguests? It should be easy, there’s only about thirty of them who even botheredto come!”

“Honestly, I’m fine with it.”

“Honestly, I’m not,” Jyn said. “I wanna show that bitch a piece of mymind.”

“God stop talking, stoptalking, I think she’s watching us,” Cassian suddenly panicked, spluttering onhis drink as he hastily turned around. “You’re jinxing it!”

“She’s looking?”

“From the high table, I accidentally caught her eye!”

“Perfect,” Jyn reached out and wrapped her arms around Cassian’s waist.He didn’t raise an eyebrow, however, until she started running her hands up anddown his back, clearly something she didn’t usually do when hugging him andalso obviously in Danielle’s line of sight.

“Jyn…” he sighed.

“Come on! Is this not why you brought me?”

“I’m starting to re-think the idea, to be honest, she’s going to knowit’s not real, that I’m just a hopeless loser who brought his roommate as adate to his ex’s wedding–”

“Shut up, that’s just her getting into your head,” Jyn insisted. “Workwith me, here.”

Cassian sighed… before leaning forward and pressing his nose into herneck. “That’s it,” she grinned. It wasn’t quite the statement she was goingfor, but it would work for now at least. From this angle, it would look like hewas kissing her exposed neck and shoulder, and she purposefully turned ever soslightly so that her face could be seen from the high table.

Sure enough.

“Oh my god, she’s coming over.”

“Shit–” Cassian nearlyspilled champagne down her back.

“Don’t stop kissing me!”

“I’m not kissing you, remember–”

“Well, maybe you should be, because we got about twenty seconds beforeshe’s here–”

He cut her off with a sudden kiss that was just on the side ofdesperate, but she didn’t care. Honestly, she’d had worse kisses before andwith worse people. She didn’t even have long to make a spectacle of it sincebarely a second later Danielle was upon them, calling out and forcing themapart.

“Cassian! Jyn! Shit, guys, thank you so much for coming!”

“Oh, Dani,” Jyn said, cheerfully. “It’s no problem.”

“The journey wasn’t too bad?”

“Nah, we road tripped it,” Jyn carried on talking, seeing as it seemedthat Cassian had been deemed temporarily speechless. As well as she knew herbest friend… really, she didn’t know at all what he was currently thinking.Hell, she wasn’t even sure if he was even out of love with Danielle yet. Like,properly and everything. He was clearly not over her, as anyone rightfullywould be, but the man had been in love with her for three goddamn years. Thatwasn’t something you could just turn off overnight.

(Jyn knew. She had tried once.) 

So she kept an arm slung around Cassian’s waist and chatted away aboutmostly meaningless things for a while until he could get his bearings (and histongue) back. Eventually, he managed to cut in over the conversation with arather strained and out of the blue,

“You – great! The ceremony was great!”

Danielle blinked a little, but otherwise carried on like normal. “Thanksso much,” she smiled daintily. “Hey, honestly it’s just good to see you guysagain! It’s been too long and apparently,” Jyn noticed her gaze harden just slightly around the edges. “I’vemissed a lot.”

“I s’pose there is a lot to catch up on,” Jyn noted. “Bodhi says hi, bythe way, and Kay says you can go something anatomically impossible.”

“Oh, Kay. He never gets old,” Danielle blatantly lied. “Not that I don’tLOVE your friends, but I was actually talking about you two! Like holy fuck,when did it become a thing? It’s so exciting!”

Her tone made it clear that it was not something to be excited about atall, but Jyn feigned the same enthusiasm anyway.

“Oh, it’s pretty recent,” she glanced at Cassian for help confirmingtheir made up story. They had spent their eight hour car journey here creatingit and honestly, it she had thought it worthy of an Oscar or two at one pointbefore they’d forced themselves to tone it down a bit.

“Hold up, hold up,” she had said somewhere around Yosemite NationalPark. “The key to a good lie is simplicity. The more dramatic, the more detailsyou have to remember, the less believable it becomes. You’re a decent bloke,but not even Danielle is going to buy that you surprised me with a weekend awayto Paris.”

“But I was going to photoshop us some photos and everything,” Cassianhad mock-complained.

“Maybe we save that story for when Danielle ultimately invites us to herthird baby shower,” Jyn rolled her eyes. “Let’s just go with the ‘we hooked upwhile watching a movie one night’ story.”

“But that one’s boring.”

“Are you kidding? It’s not boring at all,” she had insisted. “If anything,it’s the most romantic shit I’ve ever heard! I mean it’s two best friends andflatmates who have known each other for years taking a chance one night andhaving it pay off, like this is fucking romcom gold.”

“Ok, fine,” Cassian hadrelented.

She might have also thought of pitching the entire thing to Hollywood,but that wasn’t the point to be focusing on here. Danielle was still standingin front of her, impatiently waiting to hear some epic-worthy tale that couldpotentially rival her own and considering the expression that was currently onCassian’s face, Jyn knew that she was gonna have to be the one to tellit. She could practically see the man internally spiralling.

“So it just happened then, huh?” Danielle said through a strained smile.

“Yeah, one night we were watching a movie together,” Jyn quickly threwback. “Just something dumb, but it got us thinking and it was like… I don’tknow. A switch getting flicked somewhere. Next thing we knew, we were athing and we basically never looked back.”

She glanced up at Cassian. She was a little thrown to realise that hewas no longer staring at Danielle in utter distress, but now watching her. Shewasn’t ridiculous enough to insist that the story wasn’t a nice one to thinkabout – was there really anything more ideal than falling for someone youalready knew so well? Someone that you didn’t have to worry about annoying ormaking a good impression with, because they had already seen you at your 4amworst and didn’t care? – but imagining pretend scenarios wasn’t exactly goingto get you far in life. How bad would it be if she let herself indulge for aweekend? No matter how unhealthy it probably was, she wanted to pretend atleast for a little while that she had her life sorted.

(A part of her hoped that Cassian might be willing to pretend a bitlonger too).  

“You know, I knew it,” Danielle hastily cut in. “I don’t know how, but Ialways knew it was you two! OMG, you’re like a movie or something!”

“You know, we had that exact same conversation on our way here,” Jynsaid, pulling back to give Cassian a pointed look.

“Well then,” Danielle’s smile was definitely edging into painfulterritory now, but that was what Jyn was hoping for. “I guess I’ll, erm–”

Jyn didn’t let her answer. She reached up and threaded a hand intoCassian’s hair, ignoring Danielle completely as she hauled him into her body.Danielle’s words died off immediately as Jyn kissed him with edge, with armswrapping around his neck and with that kind of energy that suggested that theywere only minutes away from pushing each other up against the gifts table.Honestly, she forgot the wedding, the people and the ex-girlfriend for amoment. All she knew was the inside of Cassian’s mouth and the things itwas doing to her.

Danielle hovered awkwardly for the entire five minutes it took her tofinally realise that they weren’t surfacing anytime soon.

“Well, see you guys around then!” she eventually trilled.

“–oh fucking lord,” Cassian gasped, pulling away once she was out of theirline of sight. “Oh fucking LORD, we just did that. She just did that. Am Idead?”

“Not yet.”

“I thought you said no tongue?”

“I don’t bloody know, ok?” Jyn said exasperatedly. “By the time Irealised, I had already committed. Kill me all right?”

“Nah, nah, I mean,” Cassian coughed, avoiding her eye. “the tongue wasgood.”

Honestly, a part of her wanted to simply laugh back the tongue was good? but something shot through her at his words. Maybe it was theawkward way he said them, maybe it was the fact that she could still feel himagainst her mouth, but either way something choked her throat and settled inher chest. When she looked up at him she felt her face growing hot.

Blimey.

“Jesus Christ, this was an insane idea,” he added, hastily.

“Well, we can’t go back now,” Jyn said, shaking her head. “C’mon, mate.Let’s go dance.”

(An hour later, she was still ignoring whatever it was that was in herchest).

Neither of them claimed to be good dancers, but the open bar surehelped. “Honestly, the drunker we get the better,” Jyn had added at one point,seeing as every good wedding had to be ruined by at least someone who got toodrunk to function and eventually rounded off the night with throwing up into anewly gifted vase. Traditionally, the more she and Cassian drank, the more theyembarrassed themselves and the equation only got higher when you added the twoof them together.

It was the perfect combination, really.

“CAN YOU PLAY WEIRD AL’S AMISH PARADISE?” she had screamed at the DJ atone point. “THAT’S THE SONG WE FIRST HAD SEX TO!”

“IT WAS?” Cassian had yelled back.

“JUST GO WITH IT, BABE.”

And so the last hour had resulted in many, many dances to increasinglywedding-inappropriate songs that had the guests roaring with laughter andDanielle no doubt fuming at. Jyn’s memory admittedly got a little fuzzy aroundthe fifth (or maybe sixth?) champagne, but she certainly did remember wrappingherself around Cassian and sloppily making out on the dance floor to the sultrytunes of Big Sean’s ‘I don’t fuck withyou’.

Somewhere between the sixth and seventh drinks, they discovered thephoto booth in the foyer, complete with little basket of novelty props. A largecanvas was mounted on the wall next to it, currently half full with photostrips of varying wedding guests wearing miniature hats and sunglasses. ‘Please help us make our night memorable!’ a small note read above it and Cassian had gotten the idea thistime.

“I’m going to hell for this… but Jyn, would you please make out with mein the photo booth?”

“It’d be my fucking pleasure,” she had declared.

She was still laughing about it afterwards. Their photos they hadpurposefully posted right in the middle of the canvas, complete with thescrawled message of ‘thnx 4 inviting us!’. She had lost Cassian however during a trip to the bathroom, and shetried to not make it too obvious that she was staggering back into the hall,clinging onto the nearest table to stay upright. He wasn’t waiting where shehad left him, and couldn’t see him anywhere near the dance floor. For a moment,she panicked that he had somehow tracked Danielle down somewhere and was busybegging for her back, but no, Danielle was accounted for, currently making therounds and chatting to all of her guests. She caught her eye and Jyn mock wavedwith a grin, only to turn it into a curse when the woman apparently took it asher cue to come over.

“Fucking Jesus, Dani, I’m not drunk enough for this–” she whined.

Danielle stomped to a halt in front of her. The charade was gone. Allpleasantries left at the door. This was the bitch underneath the smiles and shewas apparently not humouring her anymore.

“What is your problem?” she snapped. “Why are you intent on ruining mywedding?”

“Hey, you fuckin’ invited me.”

“I invited Cassian,” she reiterated. “If I’d known he’d be bringing you, I wouldn’t havebothered.”

“Why did you bother, though?” Jyn tried very hard to keep track of theconversation. It was difficult when one could barely stand upright. “I mean,you broke his fucking heart, wasn’t that enough? Did you really have to stompall over it, too? Who the fuck even does that?”

“Oh, like you have literally ANY idea–”

“I see you didn’t answer the question–”

“I never meant to hurt him,” she suddenly bit out. “It wasn’t as if I wanted to cancel my own wedding twoweeks before! No one wants to fucking do that, but I was getting married forall the wrong reasons. Sure, it might’ve helped if I figured out howimmature and insecure I was being a bit earlier, but sorry that I’m a dumbass bitch whotook my sweet time, ok?” 

Jyn just stared at Danielle. It really wasn’t the story she had beenexpecting, but maybe it should have been. At the end of the day, Daniellewasn’t a bad person. She was certainly an annoying person, a self-centred andmanipulative person, but never bad. There was a woman in there that Cassian Andor had managed to fall inlove with after all, one that she had reluctantly called a friend. She wasstill in there.

That was good enough for her.

“Ok,” she said, simply.

Danielle nodded before taking the champagne glass out of Jyn’s hands anddraining it herself. “I am happy for you guys, by the way,” she insisted.

“You don’t have to–”

“Nah, it’s fine,” she gave a strained smile. “Honestly, maybe anotherreason I left breaking it off so late is because a part of me was secretlyhoping he would do it first.”

“Why in the hell would he have done that?”

“Because of you,” Danielle shrugged.

She found him outside.

Sat on the steps that led from the ballroom out onto the rolling lawnsof the hotel grounds, his back was only a silhouette but she knew it was him.She clung to the handrail until she could throw herself down beside him,nudging his shoulder lightly. “Hey,” she said. “you disappeared.”

He drew in a shaky, rattling breath, and it was only then she realisedthat he had been crying.

“Oh, fuck,” she said at once.

“I’m fine, Jyn.”

“No you’re not, you’re – oh,god –” She was ill-equipped to deal with emotions on her best of days! Whenshe was drunk, she may as well pat him on the head and say ‘there, there’ forall the good she could do. But still, this was Cassian so she had to try. Shewrapped both her arms around his, hugging it to her body and resting her headagainst his shoulder. Cassian sniffed loudly, rubbing a sleeve across his face,but thankfully not shoving her off. She stayed quiet until eventually, hecalmed down.

“This was supposed to be mine.”

She stayed staring off into the grounds, squeezing his arm tighter.

“All of this, Jyn. The wife, the wedding, the lifetime spent togetherforever, this was supposed to be mine. Where the hell did it all go wrong?”

“It’s not your fault,” Jyn murmured.

“Isn’t it? How did I not realise?” he said. “Honestly, there must havebeen warning signs, things that I ignored or something, because no one just dumps you twoweeks before your wedding out of the blue like that.”

 “I just spoke to her,” Jyn mentioned. “Well, I say I spoke to her,it was more like she cornered me… but she said some things. Do you want me totell you?”

He shifted a little and she knew he was glancing down at her. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Jyn, I need to know why she did this.”

She took a deep breath. “She said she realised she was getting marriedfor the wrong reasons. She did love you, but she mentioned the words immatureand insecure, so I’m guessing she only said yes to getting married because itwas the way to hold onto you… maybe she didn’t quite grasp the finality of itall until it hit her…”

Cassian sighed.

“She also mentioned me.”

FUCK.

She hadn’t meant to say that part. Hell, she still didn’t really knowhow to process that particular statement herself, that part was supposed to beburied and ignored for the rest of their given lives! Christ in heaven, youcouldn’t even give drunk her one job! She had no idea what to say to try anddefuse the situation (or even if anything COULD be said) and so she ended upstaying silent, her grip on his arm loosening a little.

When she tried to pull away, he grabbed her hand in the dark and pulledher back, holding it tight.

“Ah, well,” he was apparently going to laugh it off. “We always knew shedidn’t like you.”

“Dunno why,” Jyn said. “I’m a splendid bitch.”

“Look, please don’t think I blame you–”

“Nah, nah, shut up,” Jyn quickly waved past it. “Either way, are you oknow?”

“I’m far from ok,” Cassian mentioned. “but at least I think I’ll be ableto get over it. Someday.” 

“Good. Now let’s go bail early to piss her off one last time.”

“Sounds perfect.” Cassian was the first to move, heaving himself up onthe handrail before turning back to her and offering out a hand. Jyn stillwasn’t quite sure what exactly had gone down between them thisevening. More than a nothing, but less than a something… it waslike the idea of the two of them had simply been dangled teasingly infront of her nose and for the first time in her life, she was actually thinkingabout what it would be like to grab it. Jyn felt that undercurrent thatDanielle had always been so afraid of, the one that was currently thrummingbetween them, and the thoughts simultaneously terrified her and thrilled her…

(But they’d be fine. Tomorrow was a new day, and they would wakeup and this would all be fine). 

She took his hand.

“Thanks for doing this with me, by the way,” Cassian mentioned in thecar on the way home. 

“What, ruining your ex’s wedding for you?”

“Yeah, that,” he snorted. “We never mention the amount of kissing we’vedone to either Bodhi or Kay, by the way.”

“Oh, you can count on it,” Jyn said.