#and after all this they’re still not together ?? whack

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Waste My Time

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.7k Warning : (18+) Short smut. A bit of non-con in the end? Angst. Kinda not liking Matt here tbh. Also not proofread as my laptop is still whack. Synopsis : He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. Notes : There should be a prequel for this but idk when I could write it. Please nag me for it so I'll have the motivation to write. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

The air smells sinful.

Their bodies were pressed together, separated only by the thin layer of their sweat. Her body was aching, nearly cramping from all the jolts of electricity surging through her veins. She’s lost count of the many times the sense of warmth pooling in her lower stomach bursted like a tidal wave yet she couldn’t find it in her to ask him to stop. There could never be enough of Matt Murdock in her, ever.

Matt’s muscles were tensing on top of her. His grunts were becoming louder in her ears as he tried to suppress them by leaving a trail of wet kisses around her neck. He was close, she could feel it.

“I’m—,”

“I know,” She croakes, finishing the words he couldn’t continue as he falls deeper into ecstasy “Let it go.”

Matt lets out a small chuckle as the bed squeaks with each of his thrust, “We’re really gonna break this bed soon.”

“Well, thank God it’s yours and not mine.”

He didn’t waste any more energy in talking as he kissed her deeply. Matt closes his eyes tight, trying to find and commit to the best rhythm to reach their climax as soon as possible. He was close, but she was a few thrust behind and it wouldn’t be very chivalrous of him to finish without her.

With his right arm supporting his body weight, Matt’s left hand reaches down to her clit. Her feet buckled when his callous thumb rubs her throbbing bud. A small smirk forming on his face as he feels her heartbeat quicken. As much as he loves their intimate session, he really couldn’t hold his release any longer and he’ll swear he’ll explode any second now from the tension.

“Matt—,” She squeals “I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Just— One more,” He breathes, his grunts getting louder as his thrust becomes sloppier “One more for me, please.”

And that’s when she feels it, another rush of ecstasy building inside her. She pulls him tighter, nails digging into the muscles of his broad shoulders. The mark certainly feels like nothing compares to the injuries he’d often sustain from his delinquent nightly activities, but it made him groan nonetheless.

Matt’s face now hovers over her, mouth agape as he tries to keep his sanity as they’re reaching their orgasm. A couple more thrust and Matt could feel her whimpering under him once more. He follows not long after, sinking into the crook of her neck as energy completely flush out of his body.

“That was good cardio.”

Matt chuckles, “Who would’ve thought we’d be such health conscious people, huh?”

She laughs in response, her fingers finding their way to play with the soft strands of his hair. 

Their breathing slowly calms and so do their hearts. Matt now pulls away from her neck, still on top of her as he adjusted his weight to his arms so that he wouldn’t crush her for much longer. He could feel her staring. He wonders what she might be thinking right now. Was she pleased? Is she happy? Does she want this to last as much as he does?

Instinctively, Matt leans in for a kiss. It was a much softer kiss than the one they shared a couple minutes ago. His lips touch her gently as if they were fragile petals of rose. His right hand finds its way to cup her cheek, thumb caressing her jawline gently.

“Matt,” She says, pulling away and looking away so that he’d stop kissing her “I think I want to clean up now.”

And there it is again, the strange thump in her heartbeat. He’s noticed the change of her pulse lately, especially when he kisses her more softly than he usually does. She would let him kiss her for a while, returning the gentle gesture before pulling away as if someone’s poured her with a bucket of cold water.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” He says instead, slowly moving to the side so that she could get off the bed “Do you want some help with that?”

“No, I’m okay.”

The sound of her footsteps leaving the bed becomes louder in his ears as she gets further away. A bitter sense of resentment builds in his heart. What happened? What went wrong? Does she not like it when he kisses her that way? 

Matt knew that from the get go that they’ve agreed to keep their ‘affair’ clean of feelings. That they would just waste each other’s time but it was certainly easier said than done. They’re just friends, sure. She’s the one person that could topple Foggy for a friendship battle in his heart, but lately it’s been much more than that. It’s been much more than stolen minutes of holding her close after their shared nights. It’s been much more than marking her skin and hoping that it could actually mean something more than just bruises of love. It’s been much more than friends who waste each other’s time by kissing in dark rooms.

The sound of water trickling from the shower head is now heard. Matt knew that if he wanted to, he could focus his hearing through the noise of the water to hear her true feelings, but he chose not to. He feared the true nature of her heart. He fears that the hanging question of their situation was only felt by him, that the growing fondness was only flowing one way. What was he supposed to do then if that was certainly the case? He’d rather lose a limb than to lose her, be it as a friend, a sex partner, or perhaps a lover.

—-

It was one of those rare nights when Matt chooses to actually socialise and put the mask down for a couple hours. The place was packed with friends and loved ones. Foggy and Marci’s engagement party is certainly lavish with expensive champagne and grand decoration. Marci must have certainly bent over backwards to make sure everything went perfectly tonight.

She was standing by the sofa on the patio, watching Matt being so immensely interested in whatever discussion he’s having with one of the guests. Must be someone he knew back in Columbia from the way he looks so at ease. His brilliant wide smile never leaves his face. She was sure that his cheekbones must be threatening to fall anytime soon from all the grinning he’s doing.

“You must be Matt’s new nurse.”

She turns to see a beautiful woman, smiling brightly at her, “You must be Claire.”

“I am, indeed.” Claire nods “Matt has told me so much about you.”

“I hope he’s not complaining to you about how unskilled I am with stitching his wounds,” She groans, rolling her eyes “It’s not even my fault that his scars are never healing. Everytime I stitch one up he’ll manage to rip it open that very night whilst gaining a new wound. How am I supposed to work my healing magic if he’s so determined to hurt himself like that?”

Claire chuckles, nodding in understanding, “Why do you think I quit?”

She smiles, appreciating Claire’s company.

In no time the two women were talking and laughing together. It pains her to know just how charming Claire truly is. Matt had told her about Claire and why she chose to leave Hell’s Kitchen and ultimately him. She wonders if he ever had any regret not letting his walls down for her.

“Claire, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.”

“How did you do it?” She asks, hesitation evident in her tone “How did you leave Matt?”

The kind smile on Claire’s face faded a little. Her brows furrow for a while before shaking her head as a sign of confusion. It was certainly the least expected question she was hoping to hear from someone Matt has been boasting so fondly about.

“I know you care about Matt deeply, don’t get me wrong,” She explains fast “I just— Matt told me that you two had.. Something. I just wanted to know how you could get yourself out of it.”

Claire’s expression turns into an understanding one, “I hope I’m not understanding your question wrongly but Matt could be.. Quite hypnotising at times. I’m sure you know that best, being one of his childhood friends.”

She flashes a small smile.

“I guess, I just didn’t want to be sucked into the blackhole that is Matt Murdock.” Claire sighs, a satisfied smile lingers on her lips “It would be practically inevitable for you to get out of his grasp once you’re wrapped around his fingers and as you know, he’s not one to have ‘back down’ in his dictionary, ever.”

She rolls her eyes, “Tell me about it.”

“Well, Matt also has so many layers to himself. As much as he pulls you, he would push you away and I guess I wasn’t looking for that kind of relationship.” Claire continues “You can love Matt as much as you possibly could, beat yourself black and blue just to keep him, but in the end, the only one who knows what Matt Murdock wants is Matt Murdock.”

Claire’s words sink into her brain. None of the things she uttered were news to her. She knew Matt better than anyone and it was all true. As much as Matt pulls you, he would push you just as strong. He’s a complicated man with a complicated history. Yet with all the knowledge she has of him, with all the years they’ve spent as friends, with all the understanding they have for each other, she still couldn’t decipher his true motive.

Matt’s sudden change of action scares her. He becomes more attentive, more gentle and spends more time with her after each of their ‘cardio’. He would cuddle with her, staying in bed until the sun started waking. His kisses no longer feel needy but longing instead. The way his hands dance around her body feel much more calculated, much more cautious as if he’s afraid of making mistakes.

Now if the reason for all of these changes were of what she hoped for, that a certain sentiment was growing for her just as much as she yearns for him, then this would certainly be their happy ending, but Matt is known to be quite the womaniser. He has that charm that he never shied to use around women. Though she loves him with all of his brilliance and mischievous traits, for once she fears of what he might truly have at heart.

“Is everything alright between you two?” Claire asks, snapping her out of her thoughts “Is there something you wanted to share with me?”

She shakes her head, feigning a smile, “Nothing. I just wanted to know what happened between you two so I can nag him later about it.”

Unbeknownst to the two ladies, Matt has heard all of their exchanged words. His grip on his white cane was borderline destructive, knuckles white from how much he’s trying to bottle his emotions. Is she planning to leave him? Is that what’s happening?

Is that why she always avoids his gentle touch? Because she doesn’t want to be that attached to him? Does this mean that he truly has been barking up the wrong tree? That his feelings really flows one way?

—-

“How did you even get this drunk, Matthew?”

She stumbles to help him get to his apartment. Some time after her lovely chat with Claire, she finds Matt pissed drunk in one of the rooms in Marci’s apartment. He was hammered, slurring words that could barely be understood. His glasses were tossed to the floor, white cane laying feet away from where he was slumping at. Something was wrong.

Closing the door behind them, she puts Matt’s arm around her shoulders as a means of support. She knew that she could barely offer any stability for him, but it would be better than having nothing, she reckons. He surely can’t lean on his white cane to navigate.

But before they could get in further inside the apartment, Matt pushes her to the wall. He was pining her in place. He licks his lips, listening to her heartbeat that’s starting to thump harder than it did a few minutes ago. She was scared.

“Matt—,”

Before she could finish her words, Matt leans in and kisses her hungrily. He pushes his body to come in contact with hers, pressuring her to keep still as his hands now hold her wrists.

“Matt, let me go.” She says between the kisses “You’re hurting me.”

Matt didn’t stop. He kisses her, nibbles on her lips until he could feel the foul taste of iron. He wasn’t sure whose blood it is he’s tasting but he couldn’t careless. His left hand now cups her cheek as his elbow pins her hand still. It was practically impossible for her to move.

“Matt, stop!”

Only then did he finally pull away. He lets her go, taking a few steps back as he pants from the adrenaline and anger poisoning his blood, “Leave.”

She blinks, completely confused as to what is happening to him, “What?”

“Leave this apartment and never come back.” Matt says coldly “I don’t want you to ever come back to my place, do you hear me?”

“I— What are you talking about?”

“I said, leave!”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on!” She yells back. She was afraid, her heartbeat must have told Matt about her true feelings but she wouldn’t run out of this place without getting any explanation. Not after that rude and forceful kiss he gave her just now.

Matt’s lips were locked in a thin line. He couldn’t piece the words he wanted to utter. There’s so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to shout, but all he could think about was the heartbreak his chest was concealing. His heart was aching and it pains him even more that she was oblivious about it.

“What happened, Matt?” She asks once again, this time with a softer tone though the state of her heartbeat was still erratic.

“This isn’t working.”

She blinks, hardly understanding his words, “What isn’t?”

“Us, this! Whatever this is.” He says as his hands do all the gestures of his frustrations “It’s not working anymore.”

“That’s certainly not what you said last night when you fucked me on the sofa.” She scoffs “What is wrong with you? What happened at that party?”

Matt’s breathing was uneven. His chest heaving up and down in the most foul way that he just wanted to grab his mask and find someone he could actually beat into pulp. He was frustrated. The aching in his heart amplifies with every ticking second and the fact that he’s put himself in this situation infuriates him even more. She was clear as the sky about what she wanted from this ‘relationship’. Matt has got no one else to blame about his burning fantasy than himself.

“I used to think that we can do this to waste some time,” He breathes in a low growl “Now I realise that you’re just wasting my time.”

“I’m wasting your time?”

Matt went tight lipped.

“I’m wasting your time,” She repeats, still in disbelief “I’m not the one who begs the other to stay till morning, Matthew. I’m not the one who texts the other every fucking night like a clingy boyfriend. If anything, you’re the one who’s wasting my time!”

“Well, then leave! What are you still doing here? Leave!”

There was a hint of salty taste in the air now. Matt knows that he’s crossed a line he’s never done before. Her heartbeat was still racing, but this time it was caused by a completely different reason. Before she was afraid and unsure, but now she was angry. So angry that Matt knew it wouldn’t be the kind of dispute that would subside in a week or two. This is the kind of anger that would leave marks that only time and the Universe could heal.

“Fuck you, Matt.”

A loud slam of the door was heard as she left him all alone in his apartment. The silence that follows was deafening. Matt could feel his apartment growing as his body shrinks down to the void he’s slowly drowning in. He’s burned all the bridges they’ve ever built before. As of tonight, it was certain that he’s lost a friend, a sex partner, and perhaps a lover.

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

Hi! I'm literally obsessed with Zukka and every time I see your art, I die and resurrect about seven times, cause it's SO GOOD!! 😭

I wanted to ask, what are your most 'unconventional' or odd Zukka headcanons? If you have any 😅

If not, maybe just your favorite ones? Or some original ones? 👀

shuhudhideaiun you’re so sweet thank you and of COURSE I do but like. I also would like to list my favourites and originals bc some of them are so so adorable n fun.

Unconventional

-sokka fidgets. like a lot. but the way he does is by biting his nails so zuko bought him beads and necklaces and just jewellery in general so he could play with that instead of destroying his fingers.

-zuko has like no spacial awareness at all (he’s literally blind in one eye) so sokka always has a hand on his back or arm to make sure he doesn’t crash into anything 😭

-zuko has trouble staying on top of his work and is constantly complaining about needing a clearer schedule so sokka just, invents highlighters and comes to zuko one day like: here you go babe now you can colour code your schedule 😊 and zuko’s like: what the fuck

Favourite

-one by my wonderful friend @motheryves: sokka can sing but pretends to sing badly in front of his friends to annoy them

-another one by my friend @kiki-strike: a long post which you can find if you scroll through my ask tag about zuko’s relationship with his scar and how sokka finds a way to be tender and gentle with him (like, touching it) without freaking him out. (seriously this is such a tender sweet head canon and I still think about it to this day.

-not sure where it came from but the hc that sokka and zuko can’t take showers together because one setting is in the pits of hades and the other is the literal icy tundras.

Original, but less odd

-sokka is a sleep wrestler and at first zuko thinks it’s because he’s just. like that. but after sokka starts talking in his sleep about ‘I need to save them.’ ‘I’m strong enough.’ then zuko’s like: oh. oh his failure complex is on even in his sleep. so next time it happens he wordlessly just pulls sokka close and strokes his hair until he’s still. (it takes Sokka a few weeks to figure out why he’s suddenly sleeping so well.)

-the first time sokka says I love you is when they’re lounging in zuko’s chambers and it’s late there’s dim candlelight and zuko is laughing at something stupid sokka said. so sokka tries to say I love you but gets whacked in the face with a bottle (zuko flails) so when he gets to the sick bay and zuko is tending to his bruise saying shit like ‘I’m so dumb I’m so sorry’ sokka just, blurts it out. (a true display of zuko being authentic zuko, not hiding behind a cold unfeeling mask, but always looking out for others and caring for them. that’s the zuko who sokka loves, so he told him then.)

-the first time zuko says I love you is when sokka is painting, and he comes over to bring him tea and sokka gets startled and just, spills his tea all over himself and his painting and he stands up too quickly to get a towel so he slips on the spilled tea on the floor and now he’s ass first on the ground just laughing, wide and unapologetic and that’s when zuko says it. (a true display of sokka being authentic sokka, not trying to prove his worth or be more of a man or be anything other than himself. that’s the sokka that zuko loves, so he told him then.)

[wonderingpanda]

Hey You - Pt.1

Clay x Fem!Reader

My first Trolls fic, hope I did alright. I’ll try to post part 2 as soon as I can.

The sun was setting as Rhonda hurried down a dusty path surrounded by hills. Inside sat Bruce at the drivers seat with Tiny on his stomach holding his mini steering wheel. Y/n stood to their left while Branch stood to the right with his arms crossed as Velvet and Veneers popular song, Watch Me Work, played over the radio.

“Oh my kids love these guys, we’re a total Veneer household.” Bruce happily explained.

“They’re the one’s who have Floyd!” John Dory pointed out from further behind them.

“Ah it’s gonna be hard to seperate the art from the artist.” John Dory rolled his eyes and walked off while Branch and Y/n gave Bruce looks of disbelief. As the song finished, a voice came over the radio.

“That’s Velvet and Veneer’s spicy hot new single, Watch Me Work. Catch them tomorrow night at the Rage Dome where they’ll be receiving the Lifer Award (L-Lifer Award!)” Bruce, Y/n and Branch looked at each other with worry before Bruce turned off the radio.

“Guys, will Floyd even make it through that show?” Branch walked down to where John Dory and Poppy were stood by his clue board.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna make it. We’ve been looking for clues to find Clay.” Poppy placed a BroZone poster of Clay in his funderdraws up on the clue board.

“Oh I’m sorry, the clue board, you mean my clue board?” A quick moment of silence passed as Poppy and John Dory ignored Branch. “That I made?” Poppy and John Dory continued looking at the board, still not giving Branch any response. “We like the clue board now?”

At the mention of finding Clay, Y/n quickly turned around and headed down to the other three trolls while trying to hide her rising panic.

“Do we really need to find Clay?” Poppy, Branch and John Dory turned to face her, confused as to why she wouldn’t want to find him. “I mean, we’ve already got you three.” Y/n gestured to the present BroZone members. “And it would give us way more time to save Floyd if we just headed to Mount Rageous now.”

“Uh Y/n, are you ok?” Poppy stepped forward, concerned for her close friend.

“Wha, me? I’m fine. I’m not panicked, you’re panicked. Like why would I be so nervous to see Clay again after all these years. It’s not like there was anything terrible that happened between us after the band broke up, what makes you think that?” Poppy stepped back to talk to Branch.

“What’s going on with her?” Branch sighed and crossed his arms again, still looking over at their nervous friend.

“Before the band broke up Y/n and Clay kind of had a thing going on.”

“Oh I knew it! There were rumours those two were together!” Branch reached out his hands, signalling for Poppy to calm down.

“But the night everyone left, Clay decided to break up with Y/n on the spot and, as you know, leave forever.”

“Oh” Poppy lowered her hands as her energy dropped after hearing the sad story. “That’s horrible.”

“Exactly.” Branch confirmed Poppy’s thoughts.

“It’s a shame really” John Dory cut into the conversation. “They were such a cute couple. I even remember when Clay made us pull that whole song together just to ask her out.”

“Oh don’t act so sympathetic.” Branch turned to face John Dory. “You weren’t even there when they broke up.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t care.” John Dory tried to defend himself.

“Ok guys, maybe now isn’t the best time for an argument. Let’s all just calm down and- what is he wearing!?” Poppy cut off her previous sentence and pointed at the poster she had stuck up before. Branch noticed what she was referring to.

“Oh, those are just his…”

“Perfect, perfect, perfect.” The music to BroZone’s old song seemed to play out of nowhere as Branch quickly got an idea.

“Funderdraws!” He smashed open a glass case holding Clay’s funderdraws which unavoidably released a disgusting scent along with a bunch of green ghost that flew around yelling ‘Stinky!’. John Dory whacked them away the best he could while Poppy and Y/n held their breaths from the smell. Branch held up the funderdraws proudly.

“John Dory, I have no idea why you saved these it’s incredibly disgusting. But I’m glad you did.” Poppy stood with a dopey smile on her face while Y/n had her arms crossed, not liking where the conversation was going. Meanwhile, John Dory put his hands on his hips in defence.

“What, they’re memorabilia. But I will be good gosh darned if I know how they’re gonna help us find Clay.”

Next thing you know, Rhonda was sniffing the funderdraws dangled in her face at the end of a stick. Branch, standing on her forehead, called out to her.

“Help us Rhonda!” He turned to face Poppy who had her head stuck out the window while keeping a grip on his vest. “She’s got the scent!” The two headed back inside quickly before anything else could happen.

Inside in the background, Y/n helped Branch and Poppy settle back in safely. John Dory came up next to Tiny and Bruce, who now hand one hand on the larger steering wheel, and leaned on the armrest of Bruce’s chair.

“Hey, Tiny, you see that button?” Tiny Diamond’s gaze followed John Dory as he pointed to a button with a swirl pattern and the word hustle above it.

“Uh yeah.”

“That beautiful, shiny button?” John Dory pressed further.

“Oh you mean the button that’s taking every fibre of my being not to press? Yeah I see it.” Tiny Diamond slid off the button as quickly as he had laid atop it. John Dory stepped forward and lowered his voice to a more dramatic tone.

“Press it.”

“Oh heck yeah ooh!” Tiny Diamond jumped off the larger steering that he had a grip on and jumped onto the hustle button causing it to glow and swirl. ‘Hustle Dimension’ began to play as rainbow lights came out of Rhonda. Her eyes lit up and began to glow.

“Let’s hustle daddy!” Rhonda let out a noise before zooming off into the distance, glowing lights trailing behind. She leapt a few times as she ran and jumped into a glowing, star-shaped portal that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

In the hustle dimension, everything was different. Everyone was placed into a two-dimensional state and the gravity that existed before was now lost as Rhonda floated about.

“Woah” Branch called out as he stumbled into what was meant to be the space in Rhonda behind the drivers seat. Poppy followed after letting out a loud gasp as she took note of her appearance. Everything then melted away and while they were still within a two-dimensional space everything about it had changed, including the visual style.

Poppy and Branch now found themselves walking down a black and white road, dancing along to the ‘Hustle Dimension’ music. Bruce then bounced next to Poppy on her left with John Dory bouncing to Branch’s right and Y/n bouncing, landing in the middle. They all laughed together before John Dory, Y/n and Bruce flew off with rainbow trails. Poppy grabbed her own hand and spun away with Branch tumbling after her.

They all flew side by side down the black and white road in the rainbow coloured world. Branch and Poppy were on the right, Bruce and Y/n were on the left and John Dory flew in the middle. They all then flew through another star that once again changed the visuals of the reality they were perceiving. Each zoomed down in their respective colours. Branch was blue, Poppy was pink, John Dory was green, Y/n was f/c and Bruce was Purple. They flew next to stars and swirled together, combining to create Hustle Man who loudly called out.

“Hustle!” Hustle Man flew off into the sky before disappearing. Rhonda finally flew out of the star portal that they had first entered and settled back down to run normally on the road once more. Bruce and Tiny Diamond had been placed back where they were but John Dory, Y/n, Poppy and Branch were unfortunately thrown onto the floor, on their backs, in a heap. Poppy quickly stood up shaking her head for a second as the song ended.

“Wow! Too much hustle is a thing.”

“Huh, look at that.” Branch waved his hand around, hallucinating rainbows following it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was now dark outside. Rhonda nervously ran through a dark forest before stopping in front of a seemingly abandoned building.

“Are we sure this is where Clay lives?” Branch asked as Rhonda opened her door to let everyone step out. Bruce followed behind him with Tiny Diamond in a baby carrier. Tiny decided to reply.

“Are we sure? Our GPS is an armadillo bus sniffing used undies so no, we’re not sure.”

The group continued to walk towards the old building. Bruce spoke as they wandered through the entrance which lead into a bother part of the dark outdoors.

“Eeh. I think this is the place from every true crime podcast I’ve ever listened to.” They continued forwards through the dark, unaware of the ‘golf balls’ rolling around them. The small group of trolls stuck close together until…

“Halt!” Lights switched on revealing a giant clown face with glowing eyes and a giant tongue extending out to them. Rainbow coloured smoke puffed from either side of the clown head as it’s teeth moved while it spoke.

“Who goes there!?”

“Ahhh!” The entire group screamed in fear!

“Agh!” Tiny cried out, quickly climbing out of his carrier and into Bruce’s hair. He poked his head out once before hiding back inside.

“Who dares trespass on these sacred grounds!?” The clown demanded. Branch put on a determined face and began to walk forward strongly. John Dory tried to stop him.

“Branch, what are you doing?” But Branch continued on. He stopped when he was right near the clown head’s tongue, looking up and calling out to it.

“Listen, we don’t want any clown related trouble okay? We’re just here looking for our brother, Clay.”

The clown’s teeth moved down slightly before moving in sync with it’s voice again. “Wait a second, you’re trolls?”

“So what? You’re a clown.” Branch retorted, gesturing to the face in front of him. Unexpectedly, a yellow, golf ball looking thing popped out of the clown’s mouth and rolled towards the group.

“Woah!” Branch stepped back towards the rest of the group as the ball bounced closer to them. The ball then unfurled revealing to be a troll with crazy blonde hair and pink skin. She stood up in a menacing pose for a moment before smiling widely at everyone.

“Oh my gosh, hello! My name is Viva! It is so fantastamazing to see other trolls!” She immediately ran around squeezing John Dory, giving Bruce a big hug, hugging Y/n from the side, spinning Branch around and lifting Poppy up in her own heartfelt hug.

“Hi! Ha!” Viva smiled after quickly setting Poppy down. Poppy slouched froward, feeling slightly drained from Viva’s energetic mood, but stood up properly to hear her speak.

“So fantastamazing is my own personal word it means, um, fantastic and amazing. I used to say amastic but then I was like ‘Mmm, that’s not as good.’”

Poppy immediately tried thinking of her own word to match Viva’s. “Fantasta um awesome.”

“That’s different but that works too! Way to make it your own.��� After receiving the complement, Poppy rushed over to Branch’s side.

“Is this how people feel when they meet me?”

“Yes.” Branch replied, just quickly enough to not be cut off by Viva.

“Am I being a lot? Sometimes I can be a lot.”

“Uh I’m not sure we’re in the right place.” Branch mentioned, but Viva easily dismissed his worries.

“Of course you’re in the right place. Any troll is welcome here with us.” Now stood in front of the small group of trolls, Viva clapped her hands and called out. “Okay, Putt-putt trolls, lights on for our new friends” A bunch of trolls had rolled towards Viva and popped out of their golf-ball disguises. Each one was characterised with a vibrant colour, wild hair, and some sort of sweater romper or dress. While most had their hair out, some adorned buckets on their heads while others wore green mossy hats. As Viva finished talking the lights to the putt-putt course switched on, lighting up the whole place in the dark of night. Viva began to tap her feet excitedly, seeing the expressions of wonder coming from each of the new trolls.

“Oh my gosh, are you guys hungry, are you thirsty?”

“Yes!” Tiny cheered, jumping out and back into his baby carrier.

“Fries fries, you guys want fries, I am seeing fries. Bring out the works.” Viva jumped around and gestured to a few Putt-putt trolls who excitedly left to grab the food. “Milkshakes, to celebrate!”

“Coming in hot!” A bright yellow Putt-putt troll called out. Rolling away as a hot dog, fries, banana split, drink and milkshake were placed down around the pop trolls. Viva grabbed onto the straw of the pink milkshake and drank it all in one slurp, wowing the others. She then jumped down and stretched her back.

“Woo that’s better, now I finally have some energy!” Viva ran past Poppy.

“Did you just braid my hair!?” Poppy smiled, noticing the large braid left by Viva who quickly popped back round.

“You’re welcome, it looks so good.”

“I love it!” Poppy smiled brightly as she gripped her hair. Viva then gasped and ran over to Y/n.

“Oh my gosh, your hair is so pretty. How do you get it to sparkle like that?” Y/n laughed and smiled brightly at the compliment.

“Thank you. It’s just naturally like this. The benefits of being a troll, right?”

“Totally.” Viva agreed.

“Wow, these fries are amazing.” Bruce complemented as he lifted up another fry. “They’d really go great with a burger.”

“Aaa!” A blue Putt-putt trolled screamed, leading to a chorus of panic and terror as all the Putt-putt trolls desperately tried to hide.

“What is happening?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah we try not to use that word around here. It’s just that burger sounds a little too much like ah…” Viva leaned towards Bruce and spoke in a hushed tone. “Burgens.” She winced as another chorus of screams were let out.

“We call burgers…” The group looked up to see a mysterious figure walking towards them. “Meat circles.”

“Clay?” Branch smiled.

“Oh no.” Y/n’s face dropped at his arrival.

“Clay, hey what’s up man?” Bruce cheered as he and Clay happily walked to each other.

“Hey, how you been man?” Clay smiled as they initiated their own handshake.

“Clay!” John Dory jumped forward, opening his arms for a hug.

“Hmm, John.” Clay blankly replied, giving him no more than a few seconds of attention.

“Wha?” John Dory’s face dropped at the lack of response he received.

“Spruce.” Clay gave Bruce a fist bump as they finished off hair handshake. “What do you know?”

“Actually I go by Bruce now.”

“Bruce, oh ho someone got fancy. I like it.” Bruce laughed at Clay’s response.

“Look who’s talking, is that a sweater romper?” He questioned.

“What can I say, when you co-run a place you gotta flex the drip.” Clay pulled slightly on the collar of his sweater romper before releasing it.

“Ya, I’m the fun side of the operation and Mr Clay takes care of the boring stuff!” Viva cheered as she slid into the conversation.

“Guilty.” He admitted. The two laughed together until Clay noticed branch. “Woah, baby branch!” He ran over and grabbed Branch’s face. “No way!”

“Actually it’s Big Branch now, or just Branch. Branch is fine.” Branch struggled to speak as his cheeks were squished together.”

“Come here, come here. Yeah.” Clay spoke in a babyish voice as he continued to squish Branch’s cheeks. Only stopping when Branch started to speak again.

“So Clay, this is Poppy.” Branch gestured to Poppy who appeared at his side.

“Hi Clay! So great to finally meet you.” Poppy smiled as she waved and gave Clay a quick hug. “Can you do the Rusty Robot for me?”

“Yeah no, I don’t do that anymore okay?” Clay awkwardly explained.

“Right, kidding. Ha can you imagine? I wouldn’t just ask you to do that after meeting you two seconds ago. Who would do that?” She awkwardly looked at Clay after glancing away for a second.

“Yeah, it’s just that Fun-boy Clay is dead. Serious-boy Clay only does the Well-Oiled Robot.” Clay spoke while demonstrating his new and improved Well-Oiled Robot. “And it is no friki-friki-friki fun.” He stated while ending in a pose, similar to how he would end the Rusty Robot, only with a frown and his hands in the ‘I Love You’ pose.

“I mean, that’s still pretty fun.” Poppy lightheartedly pointed out.

“Ha yeah, same old Clay.” John Dory added.

“Nah, that’s not true.” Clay tried to defend himself. “If I was still fun, would I have chosen the admin building as my bedroom?” Everyone looked over to the admin building, a small wooden shack with nothing but a window, a door, and the capacity to hold barely one troll. “Huh? Huh? Asking the tough questions guys, asking the tough questions.”

“Oh, right.” Poppy nodded.

“Wait, you still haven’t met Y/n!” Tiny smiled brightly.

“No no no.” Bruce looked down at him with worry.

“No no no no no no…” John Dory, Branch and Poppy chimed in, not noticing Clay’s shocked expression.

“Y/n?”

“Oh yeah, you’re other friend. Where did she go?” Viva looked around to try and spot her. Y/n tried to sneak away behind Bruce but was quickly noticed by Tiny.

“Here she is!” He happily exclaimed.”

“Dammit Tiny!” Y/n stomped in frustration.

“Y-Y/n, hey.” Clay awkwardly waved and stepped forward.

“Hi Clay.” The two struggled in finding a comfortable greeting backing out of a fist bump, handshake and high five. After awkwardly trying to move around their hands they tried leaning in for a hug but backed out of that too. Y/n eventually opted to just give Clay two pats on the shoulder as they exchanged awkward toothy smiles.

“Uh anyway.” Clay stepped back, Y/n doing the same. “I can’t believe you all are here. Wait, where’s Floyd?”

“That’s why we’re here. Branch stepped forward. “Floyd’s been taken prisoner in Mount Rageous by superstar singers, Velvet and Veneer.”

“And the only thing powerful enough to free him is the perfect family harmony.” The five adult trolls finished together. Tiny’s face contorted in confusion.

“Okay, either they just made that up or I have not been paying attention.”

“Well why haven’t you just called he authorities?” Clay asked but slowly came the conclusion by himself. “Oh, unless Floyd is being held in an impenetrable diamond prison.”

“Yeah, that.” John Dory confirmed.

“I’m in. I’d also like to volunteer to keep track of our expenses, just cause I think you’re gonna need somebody to be on top of that.” Clay gave the group an almost smug smile.

“Yeah I don’t think you’ll get any pushback on that front.” Bruce spoke up. Branch’s expression turned to a more serious tone.

“Great, but we need to leave for Mount Rageous like now.”

Part 2 coming soon. Have an amazing day/night where you are!✨

[superblysubpar]

You Can Have The Best Of Me, Baby steve harrington x fem! reader

Summary: Steve and you share a desperate night together during the end of the world. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

1-3k range word count

Warnings: slightly angsty, mentions of blood, bruises, and overall end of the world stranger things are we going to die sort of things, shower smut (unprotected piv - creampie).

Dark and threatening clouds fill the sky beyond the BMW’s windshield. They’re not the blues and purples of a summer thunderstorm, but black and oozing with something sinister. The pair of you lit up by random flashes of red that race across the sky. It’s all something straight out of a nightmare. It’s things only your unconscious body can conjure up, yet there it all sits in front of you. Here it is - actually happening. You never should have come back to Hawkins. 

BANG. BANG. 

Your head almost hits the roof of the car, shoulders to ears and hands slapping over your mouth to cover the scream that started to leave you. Steve glares in the rearview mirror as Murray’s voice shouts through the closed windows, “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!”

Your hands shake as they fall from your lips into your lap, caked in earth and other worldly dark goo, plus the dried blood that’s not even yours. Muscles screaming, your entire body wants to shut down, to collapse, to give up. His hand falls to your thigh and you look up through blurred vision at the boy beside you. 

Well, not a boy anymore. Steve isn’t your childhood best friend with grape popsicle stained lips, holding your hand on the roof of his house while you look for shooting stars. He’s a man. A man who you’ve loved your entire life, a man you almost just lost. Again. 

Body moving in slow motion it seems, you reach across the console, pulling his face closer as you press your lips to his softly. Steve’s hand squeezes your thigh, his other tangling in your hair as he deepens what may be a poorly timed kiss, but they do it in the movies, right? Plus, he almost just lost you. Steve tugs on the back of your neck gently, drawing you further into him and you start to climb over the console when another loud whack to the roof startles you apart. 

Hopper’s face is unamused in the driver’s window and he hooks his thumb over his shoulder - a universal signal for “get out” as he walks away, shaking his head. Steve kisses you one more time, soft and chaste and over too soon and he starts to pull his hand away from your thigh, but you grip it in yours. Staring at him as your chin wobbles, fighting off the tears you’ve kept at bay for days. He just nods, knuckles brushed by his thumb and he pulls your enclosed hands up to start the car together. Leaving a kiss on your wrist and holding it up to his cheek as he drives to the house in a daze. 

Aside from the droplets of what you hope is rain (but after everything you’ve learned, you wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if it’s not) hitting and dripping down the windows, it’s silent the whole drive until he turns down his street. Your street. As the wheels slosh through puddles of flooded water, avoiding the caved in earth and holes into what you’d quite literally consider hell, your whisper breaks the silence. 

“It’s over.” Steve squeezes your fingers now resting together on his thigh as you dare to add on, “Right?”

You watch as Steve stares out the windshield, mouth downturned and you know he’s thinking that it isn’t. That he’s been here before. This seems far from over, it seems like the beginning of the end of the world. 

As Steve pulls into the driveway, he pulls the keys from the ignition, letting go of your hand despite the noise of protest you make. He’s around the front of the car and pulling you out quickly though, still rushing, but dragging you softly by the wrist into the house. His hands shake as his head does the same, back and forth, side to side like he’s frustrated, like he knows the answer but refuses to acknowledge it just like he did when you were kids. You’re waiting for the solid “Nope” to leave his lips, for him to push down the fear you see building in his eyes and neither come. 

Instead, Steve’s hands shake harder as his fingertips skim over your face, eyes bouncing across your own, your nose, your lips like he’s memorizing it all, like he’s memorizing you.

“It’s not over, and I can’t-” his voice cracks, his lips pressing to yours softly, “I can’t lose you.”

His mouth plants quick kisses across your skin, catching every freckle, your nose, eyebrows, and chin as tears fall down his cheeks and any crying you planned to do is shoved further away. Steve doesn’t cry. He’s breaking. He has been, and he’s been hiding it.

Your hands hold either side of his head, pulling him away just enough so you can look into his eyes, “Hey,” pressing your forehead to his, you try to force a smile, voice thick with choked back emotions, “Where the hell would I be going, Harrington?”

Steve sobs. 

His hands cling to your sides, fisting your shirt in his fingers as his head falls to your shoulder, “I’m so-sorry,” he speaks into your neck, growing wet from his tears and he presses his nose to your skin, sniffling and shutting it all down quickly. He clears his throat and you run your hands through the back of his hair.

“Steve, there’s nothing to be sorry fo-”

He interrupts you with a kiss, deeper than any of the ones you’ve shared so far tonight. It’s a kiss that he’s been holding back, one that says everything he wants to say, one that shows you all he wants to do, drawing every ounce of breath from you. Both hands falling into his hair and your body rising onto your toes, chasing and pulling away from him all at the same time as he lets you go. Both of you gasping for air as he squeezes your hips and shakes his head, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Head dizzy from the kiss, you couldn’t argue even if you wanted to try. He wipes at his cheeks with the back of his hand before pulling you up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to his room. The quiet house should be a welcomed friend, but it feels too big and too ominous and Steve closes the door on it all, like the bathroom is the only place in the world right now. 

You’re both ignoring the other’s shaking hands, and you suppose your own too. Telling yourselves it’s just another shower together. It’s nothing to worry about, you’re fine. It’s over.

When you both blink and squint at the harsh overhead lighting, Steve lights candles as the water heats up, steam filling the room as he flicks off the light. Hands never losing contact if the other grabs something - yours pressed to his hips as he removes a shirt, his on your lower back as you reach in to feel the water. Stealing kisses in between the dirty clothes shed and dropped to the bathroom floor. Almost shy to remove your bra and underwear despite Steve seeing it all numerous times, gaze falling to the floor as you let yourself be exposed to each other in a new way. You don’t miss his sharp inhale as your injuries are fully revealed to him now, and he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your eyes closed at the sight of his. Steve’s hands roam up from your bare hips and his lips catch yours again, your fingers cradling his chin as he backs you both up clumsily into the open glass door. 

Lips breaking apart as the hot water hits your body and you throw your head back with a groan. Steve lets you take the spot mainly under the stream first. Muscles unfurling as the hot water washes over you, running muddy and rust colored down the drain until it’s clear. His lips trail behind your hands as you wash the past few days from your skin. Kissing the pain and unwanted memories away the best he can.  

Swapping places, your feet overlap on top of his, unable to back away, to give him space even though you know you should. The sight of your bright red polish stark against the tile and a different shade of red mixing at your feet has you swallowing audibly, blowing out a shaky breath against his chest. Steve’s hands have been wandering over your body, brushing carefully over bruises that have faded, scars and scratches, all reminders of the ways he wasn’t quick enough, reminders of how he didn’t protect you, how close he’s been to losing you over and over again. 

Your fingers move to help wash his hair so you don’t stare at how the water runs a darker red leaving his skin than it did yours. You hide the shake in your hands by pressing his hair down flat behind his ears, swallowing the fears and tears that keep trying to rise up and out of you. 

The flicker of orange and yellow candle light cast over the room should be accompanied by music, and whispering sweet nothings to each other, slow and steamy kissing to match the haze filling the room. But you’re starting to wonder if you’ll ever have sensual and intimate moments that aren’t cast in an end of the world doom again. Shouldn’t it be over? Why doesn’t it all feel over? Steve’s eyes trail across your body still, lingering on the fresh bruise across your ribs and he bends down, the furrow between his eyebrows pressing against yours.

His lips catch your top one, a barely there brush of a kiss and he whispers, voice straining, “I need you to know,” Steve’s voice wobbles, “You’re the best-”

He squeezes his eyes closed, shaking his head against yours before he pulls away, eyes dancing over your face again like he had downstairs. Like he was desperate to capture you completely in that moment because he didn’t think he’d get another chance to. 

Steve’s gaze finally finds yours, honey and moss dripping into and clinging to any crack he can find as the rough pad of his thumb grazes over your bottom lip. His voice barely audible over the water hitting the tile now, “Whatever you want.”

“Steve-” 

Shaking his head again, his hands move to cradle your cheeks, thumbs brushing softly as tears fill his eyes, “I don’t care about anything but you. Okay? I just need you to know that I’m yours. And whatever you want - just, take it…please? We’re going to be fine, and we’re gonna,” he swallows harshly, licking his lips as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours again, “I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you everything. It’s yours. I’m yours.”

He holds his breath as he waits until you nod. He’ll give you it all one day, he will. A future with your own house, and kids and that fucking RV trip to the Grand Canyon you came up with when you were twelve. He knows it. His fingertips trail over your neck, tracking the beads of water that drip down your curves. Lips hovering over each other, breaths slowing as you focus on feeling every touch of his skin to yours. 

Steve’s hands settle on your hips, palms flattening and squeezing softly as he closes the small distance between you. His hands soothe up your skin, wrapping around your back, pulling you as close as you can possibly be to him. Your own hands glide over his chest, shaking fingertips brushing over the swirls of blue and purple, the angry red and raised marks. Your nose presses into his cheek and the sob you’ve been holding back falls from your lips. 

You almost lost him again. 

He nods - he knows, his own breath shaking as his fingers press deeper into your spine and neither of you can hold it in anymore. 

Lips crashing into each other, your arms fall to over his shoulders, hands tangling in the back of his hair as he presses you into the cold glass door. Lips moving furiously, panting breaths and heaving chests, his hand moves back to your jaw, pulling softly so he can tilt your head and kiss you how he thought he’d never get to again. Dragging your mouth open for him, he catches your bottom lip, teeth scraping over it and your moans mix, lost and drowning in the water falling around you. Not new touches, but it all might as well be. Watching him almost die again, you’re determined to focus on how every kiss and touch feels until the day you die.  

Steve really can’t hold back anymore, his other hand slides down, gripping at your thigh and lifting it to sit on his hip. Your frantic nodding, forehead pressed to his while your lips never stop devouring each other, leads him to let go of your jaw. Lifting your other leg until they’re both wrapped around his waist. Head hitting the glass behind you, exposing and opening your neck to him as he slides between your folds. His tip catches your clit on the drag up, the whimper you let out at the feeling he determines to be the greatest sound on earth.  

“Please.”

Begging him, you tug on his hair as his mouth presses up and down your neck, he wants too much. He wants to kiss over every inch of your skin that he thought he’d never see again, he wants to take his time, to make it all stand still. He can’t though, it’s like he has tunnel vision, the world around him blurring. Steve wants to give you everything, the best of him, he wants to be sweet and slow, show you how much he loves you, but all he can do is thrust up into you without warning, a deep and gritty moan pulled from his chest as a gasp that he wants to bottle comes out of you. 

Steve’s hands dig into your hips, bruising and holding you as hard as he can as another sob escapes your lips. Your hands drift to his shoulders, fingernails scraping and clawing into his skin as your back arches off of the door from the relieving drag of his cock along your walls and the push back in. It’s too slow for either of you - too soft, and on another thrust into you, his nose and forehead push into yours. 

“Baby, I-” 

You’re nodding as Steve chokes on his thoughts, his eyes squeezing shut, your lips catch his again. There isn’t time for words that you both already know and have said too many times to count. You just need this. You need it now. 

One of his hands supports your lower back, the other runs up and down your thigh, he’s not even holding you up anymore, you’re just clinging to him with the intent of never letting go as his hips pick up their pace. Brutal and fast, pounding into you as your lips mold around his. Every inch of your body is pressed to his, holding him to you like he can’t ever leave you, because he can’t. 

“Steve-” his name is a cry, a plea, an ask for something you don’t even know anymore. 

Hips snapping together, water smacking the tile around you harshly as your stomach tightens and your body fills with heat quickly. 

Steve is swearing against your lips, fingers dragging along your skin and your mouths aren’t even kissing each other anymore. You’re all sharp shared breaths, gasps for air, names falling out and into each other. Noses and lips bumping in passes over each other’s as he moves faster, hitting so deep over and over again that you can feel him in your throat. Sobbing as you yank on his hair too harshly, he bites your lip too forcefully, growling your name as you scream his from how much you can’t take it all anymore. 

He holds your ass now, gripping it tight enough to match the bruises he’s no doubt thrusting into you and your fingers press crescent moons into his shoulders, begging him for more when he can’t possibly give you anything else. 

“Oh-shit, fuck-” Steve’s hips start to stutter and you grab at his chin, forcing him to look at you. 

He sobs again, clutching at your body desperately, wide hands splayed across your skin, fingers digging in as you stare into each other’s eyes. Crying one another’s names until your bottom lip catches his top one in a silent scream as your release vibrates through your whole body, his following almost immediately after. Filling you completely as his hips lose all of their momentum and rhythm and he pants your name into your mouth, kissing you as you both come down and your thighs shake as your body continues to grip his.  

Steve doesn’t let you go, keeping you wrapped around him as he kisses over tear stained cheeks, whispering how much you love each other until your muscles relax again. He still doesn’t let you go as he turns the water off, not even bothering to grab towels and he brings you to his bed. It’s you who refuses to let go now, straddling him as he leans against the headboard. Wandering hands and slow and languid kisses pick up their pace once more. Sensual and soft memorizing touches turning desperate. You need to keep going, to grip the bedsheets and scream each other’s names all night long, to never ever think it was a bad idea to come back to Hawkins ever again. 

A silently agreed upon plan to kiss, and kiss some more, and never take the kisses for granted because it’s the end of the world. 

It most definitely isn’t over. 

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @aftermidnightwriting

[leahsgf]

I will get on my hands and knees for van Palmer x reader introducing their gf to the team at like a party or something

they’re gonna love you.

pairings. pre crash! van palmer x reader

when i tell you i am obsessed with this idea! van is criminally underrated and deserves so many more fics and i loved doing this, thank you so much for the req, i hope it’s what you had in mind, i got a little carried away!

-

a wave of unease seared through you as you adjusted your skirt, time having stood still yet raced by at the same time as you remained planted in front of the mirror. a new flaw with your look was becoming visible to you every second, like some twisted version of whack a mole. you shook your head in an attempt to prevent the inevitable tears from spilling, and your anxiety wearing you down to dust.

you had been dating van for almost seven months when the long dreaded event happened. classes were officially over for the year, and the games were all wrapped up, so there were no more excuses for you to delay meeting the team, meaning that your attendance to the upcoming party was demanded by each of them.

it wasn’t that you didn’t want to meet your girlfriend’s best friends, the whole concept was just terrifying to you. these were some of the people that mean the most to van, who grew up with her, of course wanting nothing but happiness and the absolute best for her. whilst you knew that you and van were incredibly happy, that creeping voice in the back of your mind hadn’t let up and had been getting increasingly louder as the time neared - allowing your nerves to get the better of you.

“there you are! i missed you.” van’s voice snapped your whirlwind of a mind back into reality, as she enveloped you from behind, pulling you into her embrace.

“i’ve been gone for five minutes at absolute maximum” a giggle escaped your throat as she planted a trail of kisses from your shoulder to the flush of your cheek, the amount increasing as the sound of your laughter hit her ears.

she turned you around in her arms, whilst mumbling something along the lines of “five minutes too long”. her eyes visibly softened as she studied your expression, a wave of concern washing over them. she had always been able to read you like a book, regardless of the plastered on smile.

“hey. don’t do that to yourself, they’re going to love you. god, they already do judging by the amount they ask about you. you’re everything i could ever want, and i’m not going to leave your side tonight. the second you aren’t feeling it anymore, we’ll leave. i promise.” her fingers trail up and down your arms as you nod, and let yourself relax under her touch.

you pulled her hand to your lips, placing your lips there ever so gently as you breathed out an “okay” and let her guide you out of the bathroom.

“that’s my girl.”

-

the cold air nipped at your shoulders as you made your way up to lottie’s front door, letting van lead the way, her hand still clasped around your own. she paused to let your eyes meet, a last minute check in before entering the cloud of noise.

jackie, shauna, lottie and taissa were the only ones out of the team there so far, huddled around the drinks table and laughing together. having known all of their names and faces for months before now, through pictures and videos from games - being stood in front of them felt so oddly familiar yet completely unfamiliar at the same time.

“guys, meet my girlfrien-“ each of them smiled and swarmed you before van could even finish her sentence. jackie pulled you into a hug like she’s known you her entire life, lottie gasped and clapped her hands together as she marvelled about how long they’ve been wanting to meet you and how nice it was to finally do it, as shauna chuckled and mouthed her apologies in your direction and tai playfully teased van for the amount she was smiling and blushing.

“so this is the famous girlfriend we’ve all been dying to meet” nat arrived shortly after shauna had pried jackie away from you to let you and van have a moment to yourselves. she introduced herself to you and spoke to both of you about anything and everything, fighting back a grin as misty bounded over to you like an excited puppy, gushing over you and your relationship, how happy she is to meet you, and how she now has a new friend.

your previous nerves were almost entirely forgotten as you fell into the mix of the group easily, like you had always been there. they filled you in with all of their embarrassing stories about van and how much she talked about you, or about the time in practice where she was so busy daydreaming about you she took a ball to the face, and how they already loved you from that moment on.

“i told you they’d love you, didn’t i?” van whispered into your ear as she finally got you alone after hours of drunken karaoke and dancing. “i’m so proud of you, baby.”

“i love you so much.”

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Millie Bright x Reader

Knocked Down & Locked In

Prompt: Something where they’re both footballers and one of them is being extra clingy/needy and their teammates keeping teasing them? Maybe one of thems not feeling good, or perhaps it’s their anniversary - @ac3may

“Happy anniversary baby!” Millie jump scared you, wrapping her arms around your shoulders from behind and pulling you into her, planting multiple kisses on your neck making you squirm. “Baaaabe, people are watching” your voice whiny as you tried to wiggle away from her grasp which only tightened. “So what? It’s our anniversary, don’t I get to love you today?” she said still hanging off your back, enveloping you into her warmth and affection as you walked around the pitch. “I thought you didn’t like PDA?” you questioned as she balanced her chin on the top of your head with her arms now around your waist. Walking in time with each other’s steps so you didn’t stumble over one another. “Today’s special though, we’re in the city of luuurve” she said before plastering you with kisses again. “We’re not in Paris yet silly” spinning round to face her and seeing her floppy bun coming loose. “Turn around, let me do this for you” you said as she knelt down on the floor so you could reach to pull the hairband out of her hair. Wrapping her blonde strands around your fist to form her iconic messy bun - everyone knows Millie’s signature look but nobody knows it’s you that does it for her before every game; that’s why she never makes videos on how to do it, no matter how many people request it.

You’re playing Lyon today in the first leg of the Champions League semi final and then going out for your anniversary dinner. You and your girlfriend of three years play for Chelsea and got together shortly after you joined the team from Man U a few years ago. Millie had set her sights on you the minute you stepped foot into Kingsmeadow and wouldn’t stop until she got you. She was the perfect woman - gracious, kind, caring, fucking hilarious and always kept you on your toes. You needed more excitement in your life and Chelsea with Millie certainly bought it.

Finishing your walk around the pitch for inspection ahead of kick off, Millie bent down gesturing for you to jump on her back as she piggybacked you towards the tunnel. Your teammates were quick to meet you with sarcastic comments as you entered the changing room, everyone had noticed how Millie had been extremely clingy all day - more so than usual!

“You two are gonna be classed as one player soon, you’ve been stuck together all day!” Sophie laughed as she whacked you with her towel.

“Ye twa make me feel seck!” your wee Scottish friend shouted from the other side of the room. Putting her finger near her mouth to act like she was about to puke.

“Yeah! Not everyone can have a bring your girlfriend to work day, stop rubbing our faces in it!” Sam sulked thinking of Kristie in America.

“They’re like this all the time at England camps too!” Jess chimed in with the rest of them. Millie still hadn’t let go of you, her arm still draped over your shoulders with pride. She loved being able to call you her girlfriend and she loved rubbing everyone’s faces in it even more.

“Stop guys, I think they’re cute!” Guro said nuzzling herself between you as your bodies moved apart to envelope her.

Warm ups completed, the stadium was filling up nicely, Millie had backed off a little but not completely. She was always by your side and it wasn’t a secret you two were dating but liked to keep it professional in front of the fans.

The game started off great, Chelsea had the upper hand the whole first half, Millie did what she did best and delivered you a beautiful long ball that you slotted into the net with ease. Running straight over and jumping into her arms to celebrate, what more could two footballers want for their anniversary than an assist and goal from each other? Lyon put in some great work towards the end of the first half but our team were strong and stuck together, we just had to hold on to half-time.

That’s when tragedy struck as out of the corner of your eye you spotted your girl wobble, looking over to check she was okay she gave you the thumbs up before going to run again, this time falling to the floor. Your heart thumped as the ball was passed to you, the ref didn’t blow her whistle so you kicked it out of play and sprinted to be by her side, the expression on her face told you she couldn’t go on. Your heart sank just thinking of those three dreaded letters that have taken out too many already and hoping this wasn’t the end of her season. Not with the World Cup coming up. This can’t be happening, not on your anniversary. Declining a stretcher you helped pull her up onto her good leg, walking every step off the pitch with her. You were in shock, you’ve just never thought of Millie as someone who could or ever would get injured - she was a force to be reckoned with, she was the glue of this team and without her, we became unstuck. Turning around to show her face trying to hold back tears, she pulled off the captains armband and slipped it onto your arm. “Do me proud (y/l/n)” she said solemnly before turning around and disappearing up the tunnel. Your heart shattered, you wanted nothing more than to be by her side but you had to focus on bringing the team to half-time.

When the whistle blew you couldn’t get off the grass fast enough, running down the tunnel pushing open every door just trying to catch a glimpse of her until you finally spotted your blondie on the medic bed, she was crying. Millie never cried so you knew it must be bad. You tried to get information out of them but seeing as she’d only just come off, there was nothing to be shared. The door opened behind you as Sam and Erin appeared to hurry you back for the team talk.

To take your mind off of Millie you did what you did best and made sure the team came through with a win, football enabled you to take your mind off anything, you could focus and be yourself - your whole self. That morning a distant memory of her wrapped around your shoulders, happy and carefree. You longed to go back to that moment, you were going to take her to Paris after the game and now all of that is ruined.

Clapping the travelling fans but not going all the way, you weren’t in the mood to act okay and all you wanted was to be on Millie’s lap and wrapped in her arms. You jogged off down the tunnel and into the medic room where your girl was still sat looking glum. You asked if she could stand or walk but with your questions came more tears, “I’m sorry (y/n/n)” she cried. “Hey prinny, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for” you said sitting next to her in the bed and wiping her tears away. “Enough of that, we can still go can’t we?” you were hopeful but not naive, you knew it was a long shot. “Why do you think I’m saying sorry?” she muttered as her head leant on your chest enabling hair stroking to commence. “We’ll get a wheelchair! I’ll push you! I need some extra strength in these arms!” you joked excitedly trying to raise a smile from her. “You… pushing me? Do I need to remind you how much shorter you are than me?” your plan had worked as her eyes glistened with the soft laughter coming from her mouth. The same height as Erin, you stood 6 inches shorter than your girlfriend. “I don’t care how small I am, I’ll push you around the world if I have to. Do you still wanna go if I can wing it?” Millie hummed a yes with a smile as her forehead pressed against yours. “I love you so much (y/n)” pressing your lips together before running out of the room to talk to Emma. You had to beg a little but eventually she gave in, as long as you’re on the plane in the morning, you can go. Running around frantically in search of a wheelchair you finally found one in an empty room, the medics helped her into it and out into the awaiting taxi.

Spending the evening in a restaurant directly underneath the Eiffel Tower, you thought about how this is the most romantic date you’d ever been on. Laughing and joking your way into the evening as you gazed lovingly into each others eyes from across the table. You had never been to Paris before but Millie had been plenty. “Are we going up there then?” you asked pointing towards the top of the tower. “With your fear of heights? I didn’t plan on it!” she laughed at you. “I’ve been working myself up to it, when will I ever do this again?” Finishing your desserts you wheeled her over to the lift, seeing people crammed inside you were worried they wouldn’t be able to accommodate the chair. Asking to have a quiet word with a worker they were able to clear a lift for you two only. Fear started to sink in as you reached halfway and Millie could sense it, reaching for your hand that was clinging to the handles of the chair. “Come here” she said gesturing for you to stand in front of her “just look at me” your face instantly breaking into a smile, it was impossible to be scared, sad or any other negative emotion when her cheeky little face was looking at you, she started cracking jokes until you reached the top. Wheeling her out onto the edge where you could see twinkling lights for miles under a blanket of darkness, it was beautiful. “Wow, I’m so glad I did this, it’s almost as beautiful as you” you sounded elated bending down to kiss her cheek. Parking the breaks on the chair and moving to stand next to her Millie looked up at you and patted her thigh, “have you forgotten why you’re in here in the first place?” you questioned her. “Hey, I have one good knee and you’re only tiny. Come here” holding your hand and pulling you towards her. Lowering yourself gently onto her good leg she wrapped her arm around your waist as your arm draped around her shoulders, your head fit perfectly under her chin “happy anniversary beautiful” she whispered and shared a kiss. “Thank you for making this happen” her head rested on your chest as you sat for what felt like hours staring out into the horizon. Learning forward to admire the locks attached to metal frame work, you watched her face light up as she read the names on them. Standing up to pull out of your pocket a lock engraved with your names and the year you both met and silently presenting it to her in your hand. A little gasp and a “aww” left her mouth as she took in her hands to admire, on the other side was the Chelsea logo for where you met. “Is this for here?” she asked with the softest eyes, slightly welling up at the cute gesture. “If you want it to be?” you proposed knowing that she’s spoken about wanting to do this countless of times before. Millie thought you were actually going to propose and seeing as you’ve never spoken about marriage you asked what she would have said. “Let me make this clear” she smiled as she tapped your legs to jump off her. Bringing the lock to her lips to kiss it then holding it for you to do the same she clicked it together onto the iconic building. “Perfect” she smiled as she wheeled herself back to admire it, “you’re stuck with me now!” she shouted, her loudness finding its way back to surface telling you she was already feeling happier.

[madmaxified]

letting myself cook and sharing my dead boy detectives swap au on here ‼️

( also i wanna note that if an adult and teen swap so do their ages, so some characters are aged down and some are aged up )

the night nurse ( or charlie as i have graciously renamed her in reference to what charles said in the finale ) takes edwin's place, still dies in the 1920’s but however, instead of dying at the boarding school, she dies in a ‘I hate women look i have a spell book boom demonic sacrifice’ style hate crime and that’s how she ends up in hell ( it’s giving rosalie from twilight’s death ) she’s still a bookish, nerdy little shut in, but there’s less of edwin’s sass and more of her being so blunt and straight to the point that she often comes off as quite rude

jenny takes charles’s place, she dies in the late 1980’s early 1990’s but instead of getting attacked by classmates her abusive, alcoholic father almost beats her to death and then she wanders out into the night in the middle of winter and dies of extreme hypothermia. she’s a lot more upbeat and outgoing than canon jenny is but is still giving jade west vibes. when it comes to her trauma and how she died, she’s alot more cagey about it and gets angry and just flat out mean any time someone brings it up so charlie always avoided talking about it. she’s a gay little fella and is one hundred percent fully aware of and comfortable with that fact.

charlie is still absolutely and one hundred percent in love with jenny but has a really hard time understanding feelings and so she’s not really sure what she feels most of time. jenny is utterly devoted to and in love with charlie but never knows when to tell her

esther is swapped with crystal comes from a long line of witches and has inherited those magical abilities and ability to see everything supernatural, but she’s lost her memories due to a sketchy deal with a demon she made in order to get out of some ‘trouble’ ( she killed her cheating boyfriend and his lover and wanted it covered up ) her and jenny make out a lot and it’s very messy and filled with way too many feelings and they’re not super good for eachother and it only makes charlie hate esther more. she’s a lot most mischievous than crystal is and legitimately believes lying, scheming and violence is the solution to every problem the agency encounters, she eventually leans tho because character development!

monty is swapped with niko and is the scooby doo obsessed nerd that lives across the hall from esther. he’s just as sweet as he is in canon and is the girl’s emotional support, grounded in reality member who’s job is essentially to make sure nobodies emotions get so incredibly out of whack no one can do their job

crystal and niko are a witch / physic medium and her cat familiar who was once a human girl. niko’s relationship with charlie is not romantic at all and instead niko and crystal have an insane toxic yuri arc going on. once they were both human and in love and happy but after lillith granted crystal eternal life niko realized she needed a way to be with her forever. crystal promised they could be together if niko let her ‘change’ her and then she made her gf into an immortal cat who she kinda emotionally manipulates ( toxic yuri save me save me toxic yuri )

edwin is esther and monty’s landlord, instead of running a butcher shop he runs a small independent bookstore and is still struggling to figure himself out. he’s less mean than jenny is initially, except to crystal he’s very mean to her, but is still very overprotective of his tenants

charles is the night nurse, overworked, underpaid and stuck in a job he doesn’t want, he’s just working towards retirement, and if he can catch those slippery dead girl detectives that might just been the case that fills out his retirement requirements. he’s just as fed up, if not more, than the night nurse is in canon

maxine is the cat queen, and on top of flirting with charlie and giving the poor girl a horrible sexuality crisis, she’s also flirting and teasing jenny every time the two get close, something jenny does not appreciate at all. her connection to crystal is through niko because since she’s a cat most of the time she’s technically one of maxine’s subjects so she’s always looking out for her

thomas ( the cat king ) is the pet shop manager with big heart eyes for edwin, who after being set up on a date with edwin by monty, reveals that he’s actually a creepy weirdo and then he dies ( everyone cheered )

bonus : when charlie confesses to jenny on the stairway to hell jenny confesses back and they share a kiss before escaping hell forever

( bonus two : this is only one of two swap aus I have for this show mwa ha ha )

[selineram3421]

hiii may I request alastor w a super cheery and sweet s/o? Basically everyone is terrified of him but then there’s reader who they think is the sweetest angel who somehow got sent to hell. Even alastor has never seen reader mad, but then an incident happens (you can decide what!) and reader loses it, later they’re covered in blood but they still have a cute lil smile even though there is a dead body underneath them. Alastor is watching respectfully. He’s stunned but is incredibly entertained. Def wants to see it happen again.

Oh I love this! Sweet sweet sweet.

Sweet Dangerous Thing

Romantic: Alastor X Sweet Reader

Warning! ⚠

⚠ descriptive injuries, blood, fluff, soft Alastor ⚠

~

Alastor was always unpredictable, chaos wise and just in general. Everyone around him would always be on edge. Waiting for his next plan of attack.

This time however, the hotel crew (who all knew of the Radio Demon's shenanigans) were surprised by the soft looking demon he brought over one day.

"This is the establishment I'm working with my dear.", he says softly.

Mouths hit the floor at the way he looked at the demon on his arm. It was like the way Gomez would gaze at Morticia, but ace.

"Oh its absolutely lovely!", they say with glittering eyes, looking around the lobby. "How does the kitchen look? Is it big?", they asked looking at him with a head tilt.

"That's what she said-", Angel coughed.

Vaggie whacks the spider quickly and Charlie shushes him.

"It's a chef's dream!", he says, walking them over to the kitchen. "A baker's too!"

The crew follows, peeking through the kitchen door windows to see the two demons interact.

"Who is that?", Charlie asks. "Hun, do you know?", the blonde looks to her girlfriend.

"Nuh-uh. Deadbeat?", Vaggie looks to Husk.

"Hell, I'm surprised that they ain't dead yet. Niffty?", the cat demon looks up at the little cyclops sitting on his shoulders.

"Nope! Not a clue!", Niffty says, face pressed against the glass. "Sparkle?", she says, not taking her eyes off of the two.

"How the fuck would I know?", Angel says.

Meanwhile, the two in the kitchen are looking at the oven.

"So much space! I could make pie, cake, bread, cookies!", they list off, opening the oven door.

"I assume its to your liking?", he asks with a smile.

"You bet'cha! And there's a sink in the island counter! It really is a baker's dream!", they gush.

The others just outside the door began arguing about who it could be.

"Must be another poor fool who made a deal.", Husk says.

"No way! Have you seen that smile! Its totally different.", Charlie shakes her head.

"What if he's just playing nice until he kills them?", Vaggie shrugs.

"Maybe a friend?", Niffty guesses.

"Nah. That's his fuck buddy.", Angel smirks, crossing his arms.

Everyone looks at the spider demon with a grossed out face. Vaggie literally kicks his ass and he hits the doors, falling face first onto the kitchen tiles.

It's quiet.

Charlie steps over Angel, watching out for his hands and looks up with a smile. "Hi! I'm Charlie and welcome to the Happy Hotel!", she says clasping her hands together.

"That's nice but are they ok?", they ask, pointing at the fluffy demon.

"I'm-", Angel is cut off by Vaggie.

"He's fine, just an idiot."

"Um-", they go to speak but the other two also enter the kitchen.

"Who the fuck are you?", Husk bluntly asks.

Alastor's smile twitches. "That's quite rude Husker, ask properly."

The cat demon quickly changes his tone after clearing his throat. "We don't know who you are, can you tell us?"

Everyone is shocked at the answer they give.

"I'm Alastor's significant other!"

.

After introductions, you all sat in the lobby.

The group asked for details, so you settled with telling them about the day that you and Alastor had met.

"I was trying to order something at a café and some brute of a demon tried to lay a hand on me.", you explain.

"Of course being the gentleman that I am, I couldn't let such a thing happen!", Alastor says proudly.

Most of them want to say bullshit but kept quiet.

You smile at your darling and place a hand on his. "He defused the situation and offered to pay for my things.", then you look back to the others. "Its quite the café cliché but we've kept in touch since and one thing led to another. Now we're here!"

They sat in front of you both, a bit shocked at you holding hands with the red dressed demon.

"I'm very glad that I took care of it. I got to meet such a lovely being worthy of my attention.", Alastor lifts up your hand and kisses the back of it.

.

That was nearly two weeks ago. The shocked look on their faces made you laugh.

And you being so kind, gentle, and naturally sweet. They wondered how exactly you ended up in Hell, deeming it a mistake.

(Also wondering how the hell Alastor got you. Especially with him being...well, him.)

You were at the hotel today, helping Niffty with making and setting up baked goods for guests to take. She would ask a lot of questions, but you surprised her by keeping up with things you could answer.

The doors open and a demon rushes in. "I need help!", they gasp out.

"Is everything alright?", you ask confused, stepping out from behind the check-in counter.

Husk's ear twitches and moves it to the side to listen in from the bar.

"Please! I n-need somewhere to hide!", the demoness says and looks back towards the doors.

"Calm down now, I'll help but I need you to explain at the counter.", you usher them over to hide under the counter and give a pen and paper. "Niffty, would you be so kind to finish up?"

The little demon nods and speeds her way into the kitchen to get the rest of the sweets.

Getting more check-in papers, you gently whisper to the scared demon. "Stay quiet and write down what's-"

The doors are kicked open by someone with a loud bang.

"WHERE ARE YOU!? YOU FUCKING BITCH!", a bull demon shouts.

The noise gains the attention of the others in the vicinity. Including Alastor.

"Hello sir! Would you like to check into the Happy Ho-", you don't get to finish as they stomp over, grabbing your face and pulling you forward.

"Where. Are. They.", he demands.

Before Alastor can take a step, there's a loud snap.

"AAAAARGH!", the bull shouts out in pain, his wrist twisted all the way around and to the point of muscles ripping and blood spilling out.

Your mouth split open with a sharp row of teeth, your smile is wide as you laugh in such a disturbing tone it sends shivers down everyone's spine.

"ꁸꐇꂑꍟ꓅! Quiet~", you shout and then repeat softly, tapping the demon on his nose.

He hisses as you pull at his hand, making the skin stretch at the wrist, the pain getting worse.

"I ought to teach you a lesson on proper manners! You just stormed through here as if you were the ruler of Hell! Tsk tsk.", you shake your head in disappointment. "And to treat staff so poorly. How awful."

The demon before you scowls. "I'm here looking for a bitch-"

Another twist of his wrist and he shuts up after letting out another shout in pain.

"Disrespectful too!", you say, ripping off his hand completely and tossing it to the side.

He screams in pain, moving away from you and holding his bleeding arm. "YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!", the bull shouts.

Then he makes the mistake of trying to hit you.

Most of the bystanders watch with fear or disgust. However, Alastor watches with fascination and awe. His heart skipping a beat as you tear the demons neck open with your teeth.

You drop the body of the now double dead demon and sigh when looking down at the messy floor. "Oh jeez, Niffty is not going to like this.", you say with a frown, blood stains covering your form.

Alastor goes up to you and holds you close. "That was magnificent my darling!", he says, picking you up with a spin. "You had my heart racing! You sweet, dangerous thing!"

You just giggle and wrap your arms around him.

The others just stand there stunted by how you both just ignore the body. Even the girl you helped looks weirded out. They watch as you both leave, Alastor still carrying you and not minding the blood at all.

Niffty quickly goes to work, disposing the body and cleaning the floors.

"So..that happened.", Angel says with a shake of his head. "Who knew Sweet-cheeks was crazy like Smiles."

Charlie walks over to the new demon behind the counter. "Hey.. Would you like to stay at the Happy Hotel?"

~

"It was like the way Gomez would gaze at Morticia, but ace."- I want this.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @ducky-is-dead-inside @stolas-thebirb

I'm going to connect this to another work.

This one➡ Here!~✨

ML for Alastor🎙

[jtl-fics]

One of the other Time Travel fic ideas that lives in my head rent free STARTS very very sad but then quickly moves onto sheer hilarity. I thought of most of it while listening to New Kings by Sleeping Wolf.

It starts with Wymack’s funeral and all of the Foxes are grown up and off living their professional lives. They’re all gutted that their Exy dad has passed away and it is all sorts of unreal that he’s gone. Abby’s driving them all in the old Fox travel bus to go to the burial as a sort of an ode to their importance in Wymack’s life (he had other teams he was close to but nothing will really compete with his most problematic team, he always loved them the most even if he denied it until his dying breath)

Except, in true time travel/world travel/etc. fashion, they get T-boned on their way to the burial and the ‘Miracle Team’ of Foxes all die there.

And then they wake back up and it’s disorienting because they’re still on a bus but they were pretty sure they were hurt a lot worse than they are now. Then Wymack’s voice is loud and concerned asking everyone is okay.

He looks just like how he did back when they were in college but when they all take a look around, they all also look exactly like they had in college too. Andrew is on the court mandated drugs, Seth is alive, Kevin’s hand is still healing from Riko crushing it, and Neil isn’t there.

Kevin, Dan, and Abby barrel into Wymack and it quickly becomes apparent that this Wymack is also the Wymack who had died 20 years later. Meanwhile Andrew is not handling being back on the drugs well at all, especially when Neil is not around.

He’s freaking out that at this point (the beginning of the spring season) Neil is all alone in Millport. He wants to go right now and get his Junkie and there’s the question of whether or not Neil even remembers because Wymack is pretty sure it takes a hard whack to the head or some sort of shock to remember. Wymack took an errant ball to the head the week after the ‘skiing accident’ that Kevin suffered.

Andrew wants to go right now and he’s fine with re-enacting his first meeting with this Neil if it means he’ll get his Neil back. Wymack promises that they’ll go and they’ll do everything they need to get Neil back. Even if Neil doesn’t remember anything then Andrew will keep him close and keep him safe because FUCK there are so many dangers to Neil’s life again.

Wymack and the rest of the Foxes also work on getting Andrew cleared to start going off of his medicine with the enthusiastic support from Betsy. They won’t put Andrew in Easthaven again but manage to get him into an outpatient program that Abby will oversee once they get Neil because Neil’s the only one that Andrew trusts to be with him and see him like that.

They get to Millport two days after the bus accident and Hernandez had sent Neil’s reel and his belief that Neil was a runaway and Wymack had said he was going to come down at some point to talk with him but the other coach hadn’t really heard from Wymack since then so he’s surprised to have Wymack, Kevin Day and some manic blond show up.

It’s pretty awkward to explain that the Ravens came and offered Neil a full scholarship a week prior to be a sub Striker with the Ravens. That Riko Moriyama himself came and offered it to him. Andrew and Kevin look like they’re going to pass out until Hernandez says that Neil had said no and he’d ran off immediately after and Hernandez hasn’t seen him since he ran away from Riko Moriyama a week prior.

Neil’s in the wind.

He might not even be Neil anymore.

Andrew is catatonic, Kevin is hardly any better, and the rest of the Foxes don’t know if Neil running was better than having Neil as a Raven.

It doesn’t make any sense on why Riko would be offering a place with the Ravens to Neil let alone why he’d offer the Striker position.

It’s Aaron, barely managing to hold Andrew together as his brother refuses to start the rehab until Neil is with him, who offers the idea that they’re not the only ones who came back. Riko had also died, he could have come back and Neil was part of his imagined perfect court he could have gone to get him for that or even just to ruin the chance of Neil being around for the Foxes because the sight of a Moriyama would have sent Neil running.

It’s a month later and Andrew’s ready to drop out of college to start hunting down Neil until a phone call comes and it’s Hernandez letting them know that Neil had shown back up at his house and asked if he could stay for a little bit. Neil was bruised and bloodied but wouldn’t say what had happened to him.

Andrew and Wymack are the two who go this time. Kevin has a history test that he can’t skip and Andrew wants to be in Millport immediately. They come up on coach Hernandez’s house to find Neil climbing out of a side window from a bathroom looking terrible and Andrew is getting ready to smack him in the gut but Neil turns and sees him and, “Drew?” comes out of his mouth before he can think better of it.

What follows is an explanation of what happened. Why he ran. Where he’d been the last month. One of Riko’s thugs hit him pretty hard to get him to agree to sign on as a Raven and that knocked Neil’s memories back into his head. He needed to get away from Riko and he had no idea that he wasn’t the only one who had come back so he’d thought he had time before the Foxes came to Millport. He went off and he killed Drake first and foremost and then set a trap for the worst of his father’s men, including Lola that left 6 dead and one alive only long enough to beg for mercy that Neil didn’t have for the woman who would play tic-tac-toe with a dashboard lighter on his arms.

Andrew cannot be separated from Neil after that. They make plans that Neil will be completing his high school education in Palmetto. Neil is 18 so he can transfer himself out and Neil’s address is Abby’s house but he doesn’t spend a single night there aside from the time spent getting Andrew off of his drugs.

The Foxes finish out their season quite well after their accident. Most of the graduating players and Seth are confused by the changes in their teammates after the crash, especially why everyone is so visibly relieved when some skinny kid from Arizona comes in and why the terrifying freshman has clung onto him so fiercely.

The Foxes have plans for the next year. There’s no need for them to ‘come together’ the way they had the first time because even Seth has chilled out now that Kevin is doing more than just bitching that they’re not enough (he’s had years to actually get good at coaching).

They’re going to make the world recognize them again.

[bucks-daddy-issues]

Hello!! 👋 😙

😳🥂💍🫴

I think none of these are three sentences, but oh well.

😳 Down bad Eddie (This part is SFW)

-

“Yeah.” Eddie forces himself to elaborate, “Yeah, um, I- You’re like the sun.”

Buck blinks at him, his head tilting sideways, "Eddie, what?"

So, Eddie has always been awkward around women. 

Shannon was his first real relationship and Eddie's sure they wouldn't have gotten together at all if she hadn't done most of the work to make it happen. After that, Eddie’s dating situations had always just been something he fell into. That is until he decided to take the initiative with Marisol and ask her out. It was then that he realised just how bad with women he was.

But it's as he’s describing Buck as a celestial object while trying to explain how deeply and irrevocably he’s in love with him that Eddie realises it’s not just women he has no game with. It’s everyone, and it’s definitely Buck.

Because Buck is like the sun. He’s warm and golden and he infects everyone around him with this radiance, bringing life to wherever he goes , but none of that comes out when Eddie opens his mouth. Instead, Eddie stares and says “You’re like-“ then gestures to all of Buck like that will explain anything “and I- you-“

Buck puts his hands on Eddie’s shoulders to shut him up. “Eddie,” Buck says, ducking his head to meet his eyes, “I love you too.”

-

🥂Hangover AU

-

The tattoo parlour is a small colourful place, snug between a liquor store and an Indian takeaway. 

It’s cosy more than anything, which Buck is grateful for. He’s not known for his decision-making at the best of times and he’s even worse when he’s drunk, so getting a tattoo at a place that hasn’t ever heard of soap would not be out of the realm of possibility.

Luckily, the parlour seems clean and the staff seem friendly. The artist from the night before isn’t there, but the owner is nice enough to call her up anyway.

Hen, Chimney, Eddie and Buck all crowd around the phone as it rings. It’s set to video call so Buck immediately recognises the woman when her face pops up on screen.

“Ay!” She grins “There’s my favourite little lovebirds.”

All four of them freeze.

-

💍 Romcom AU

-

“So, how has hanging with your new boy-crush been going?” Maddie grins, poking Buck in the shoulder as she sips her champagne.

Buck rolls his eyes, “It is not a crush, I very blatantly do not like the guy.”

“I remember you not liking a lot of people growing up,” Maddie smiles behind her drink, “I also remember walking in on you in bed with a lot of those same people, too.”

Buck shoves her playfully, “That’s different!” He whines, his face burning, “That was hate sex, which was a Buck 1.0 thing, I don’t do that stuff anymore.”

“Oh my God, do not bring Buck 1.0 into this! You’re feelings are still the same even if you’re better at managing them now." Buck tries to whack her with a pillow "You’ve got a cru-ush” Maddie sings, jumping off the couch to avoid another hit.

-

🫴 You're touch is all I need (NSFW)

-

“There is something- and we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want,” Eddie starts, Buck nods at him to continue. “Today you said… you’ve used uh-“

“Sex toys?” Buck supplies.

“Uh yeah.. I just- do they feel good? Like- like dildos and stuff?” Eddie cringes at the word 'dildo', despite the fact there’s a big one currently sitting in his bedside drawer. 

“Oh absolutely! So good. Not that you have to like men to use them, but they’re great, I have like five at home.” Buck says, Eddie fights down the urge to imagine a hundred different scenarios inspired by that sentence alone, a couple slip through the cracks.

“Are they like… easy to use?”

“Totally! If you use them right anyway, you should definitely get one if you're thinking about it, Eds. I could send you some suggestions if you'd like?”

Eddie swallows down the lump in his throat. He’s not about to tell Buck he’s already got one, he’s barely able to wrap his head around the fact that Buck wants to help him find something to put inside himself and if he wasn’t getting hard already he would be after that, so he nods weakly and manages to say “Yeah, thanks” without sounding too much like he’s a couple seconds away from jumping onto Buck’s lap.

[seat-safety-switch]

When a bunch of tractor owners get together, they often have what is referred to as “a slow race.” I know this is a paradoxical concept, and anyone with any inkling of exposure to the inner workings of the English language is now trying to gnaw their own teeth off. Keep with me on this: the goal is to be the slowest one.

Easy to do, right? Just don’t push the gas. Let the wind shove you gently towards the finish line. And maybe lay off the donairs before you hop in the passenger seat, in case there’s a slight downhill gradient and your competitors are lighter. It’s hard to do, in fact, because there’s a minimum speed that a tractor will go before it stalls. If your clutch skills aren’t as good as the next person’s, you’re going to stall the engine, and then you get disqualified. Now it’s a real race.

The reason why this is relevant to tractor folks is that 99% of the use of a tractor is going at a languid pace. Sowing crops. Sneaking up on wild horses so you can capture them in your Pokéballs. Pulling out the stuck cars of city people. Ripping down your hated enemy’s barn when he’s not looking. You can’t do these things with a lot of speed, because you’ll just spin the tires. Much like drill presses and kneeling down to pick up things after the age of 30, a slower tractor is a better tractor.

How, then, can we cheat at this race without becoming better drivers, or creating some elaborately complicated matrix of planetary gears and belt-drives that allows a gasser tractor to run turtle slow without stalling? The answer, my friends, is new technology. These narrowly-defined hayseed rules don’t disqualify Power Wheels as “tractors,” and I have it on good authority that these little 24-volt direct-current electric motors can keep ticking at the slowest speeds imaginable. Hold on a second, I think they’re calling my number.

Okay, yeah, that didn’t go as planned. It turns out that years of traumatic exposure to city traffic have conditioned me to instantly whack any throttle wide-open whenever there are no vehicles in front of me. Those little Power Wheels Deeres have a lot of torque and a really shitty diff, too. Yes, I did pirouette directly into the judge’s stand and then cause a follow-up uncontrollable battery fire, because my phone fell out of my pocket and got crushed in all the commotion. Still, I finished last, so I think I should win something.

[jinxedruby]

Ambush at the Bridge: Chapter Four

Time to see what Legend and Sky have been up to this whole time.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

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“Anything?” Sky called, neck craned back to watch Legend. The other hero stood on a branch high in the tree, one arm hooked around the trunk as he scanned their surroundings.

“Nope,” Legend shouted back after a moment. “Hard to tell with all the trees, but no sign of anyone else.”

Sky sighed, letting his head drop and rubbing his neck. A series of thuds and several falling leaves came from above him before Legend dropped to the ground.

“Those lizalfos sure chased us far,” Sky remarked.

Legend brushed his hands together before planting them on his hips with a huff. “No kidding. Why the hell are those things so fast?”

“I think those are some of Champion’s. They’re much faster than mine.”

Legend snorted. “Great. One more thing to hate about his era.”

Before Sky could try to defend Wild’s era – sure, it was big and full of terrifyingly strong monsters, but it was just so beautiful – Legend began stalking off in a random direction. Sky jogged briefly to catch up, falling into step at Legend’s side. “Where are you going?”

“Back the way we came.” Legend added on an I think under his breath that Sky barely caught. “The others are probably still at the bridge. If not, it’s better than just standing around doing nothing.”

Sky nodded in agreement and turned his attention to not tripping over the underbrush. The trees around them swayed gently in the breeze, leaves rustling softly. He tilted his head back to try and catch a glimpse of the sky between the tall boughs. He liked the forests, all the color and how the world teemed with life, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t homesick. Rarely did a shift land them in one of their own times and rarer still did they ever land in his. He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been home, seen Zelda. He’d stopped keeping track after a couple months since it only made him sadder.

“Stop that,” Legend’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Stop what?” Sky asked, looking away from the sky and over at Legend.

“Reminiscing about your Zelda,” Legend grumbled. “I can practically hear your lovey-dovey thoughts.”

Sky laughed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Is it really that obvious?”

“Yes,” Legend replied instantly. “It’s annoying.”

Sky chuckled again, unfazed by Legend’s bluntness. Then he sighed, gazing wistfully ahead of them, thoughts on his Zelda’s smile, the way her hair swayed when she walked, the sound of her laugh. “You’d understand if you met her.”

Legend rolled his eyes so hard Sky worried he pulled a muscle. “Sure.”

Sky shook his head with a smile. They walked for a while in quiet, the air punctuated by their footfalls on the earth and the soft hush of wind through leaves. After walking for long enough that the sun had noticeably moved, Sky began to wonder if Legend actually knew where he was going. Many more minutes of walking later and no sign of the others, his wonder grew into a worry. He took a breath to ask.

“What’re you snickering about over there?” Legend abruptly asked, glancing over at Sky.

“I… wasn’t snickering.”

Legend turned his head fully, squinting at Sky. “Oh, reall-“ He fell silent, ears twitching. Sky blinked, watching as Legend turned about, eyes scanning the surrounding forest. Legend frowned, lips pursed for a long moment.

“What are you-“

“Shh.” Legend held up a hand at Sky, continuing to search the forest. His ears twitched almost imperceptibly as he very slightly tilted his head to one side. Sky might have laughed if not for Legend’s furrowed brow and deepening frown.

“You don’t hear that?” Legend asked quietly. Sky shook his head. “Someone… something’s laughing, it’s… it’s coming from this way.” He spun about suddenly, his hat nearly whacking Sky in the face. Before Sky could question what was going on, Legend ran past him, moving quietly through the trees. Sky quickly went after him, confusion growing more and more with each passing second. Legend picked his way through the underbrush like he’d grown up in these woods while Sky somehow managed to trip over every single tree root in the ground.

“Slow down,” Sky hissed as the distance between him and Legend quickly grew. His breath rattled painfully in his throat. “Veteran!”

If Legend heard him, he showed no indication of it, continuing to run ahead, chasing a sound Sky still didn’t hear. Sky stumbled over another root, barely catching himself on the tree trunk, hands digging into the rough bark. He straightened again, his next steps wobbly and weak. A piercing pain sprung at the base of his throat, a needle-like sensation stabbing him with each breath. He coughed involuntarily, stumbling again as he struggled to clear the phlegm from his windpipe.

“Veteran!” he wheezed at Legend’s receding back. Legend was too far to hear him. Sky took another step and nearly collapsed, black spots dancing at the edges of his vision. He gasped through the tightness in his throat, tripping to a halt and doubling over, hands braced on his knees. He hacked, spitting stringy phlegm onto the ground beneath him. His jaw and chest buzzed, throat stabbing with each pained gasp. Fumbling, he grasped at his water skin, tugging it from his belt and holding it up to his lips with shaking hands. He took two gulps that did little to quell the pain in his throat, half of the water spilling down his chin. He lowered it with a gasp and proceeded to cough up even more phlegm. He stayed like that for a long minute, probably more. Eventually, the pain subsided and he could take shallow breaths without feeling like a knife was being driven through his neck. He straightened, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and looking around. Legend was nowhere in sight. Sky sighed then brought a hand to his throat with a wince at the sharp pain the action caused. He started walking in the direction he’d been following Legend, hoping the veteran hadn’t run into trouble.

“Shit!”

Sky’s eyes widened at the shout from ahead that had definitely come from Legend. His first instinct was to run to his friend’s aid, but the pain that came with any breath deeper than a shallow intake of air reminded him that that wasn’t exactly an option. He quickly rummaged through his pouch, fingers closing around a bottle. He pulled it out, considering the red liquid inside and hesitating. He hated wasting potions on his breathing condition, but Legend needed help now. Sky yanked the cork out of the bottle and swallowed some of the potion. He drank about half before he felt good enough to run. He stuffed the cork back in, dropped the bottle into his pouch and took off toward Legend’s shout. He crashed through the underbrush with about as much grace as a moblin. Another curse from the veteran and Sky decided stealth wasn’t really a priority. Needles grew in his throat as he panted but the worst of it was kept at bay by the heart potion, allowing him to keep running.

“Sky!”

Sky’s heart pounded at the barely concealed panic in Legend’s tone. He urged his legs to go even faster, trees whipping past him as he sprinted. He caught a flash of red ahead of him, heard frantically muttered curses. Legend appeared to be… sitting? His blue hat and blond hair were lower to the ground than they should have been. Sky tripped over a root, lunged across a bush, and broke through the edge of the trees. Legend’s head swiveled around, eyes widening at Sky’s approach.

“No, no, no, stop!” he yelled, holding up a hand, palm slicked with mud.

Sky stumbled to a halt, opening his mouth to ask what was wrong. That’s when he realized Legend wasn’t sitting. The veteran stood sunken in a massive pool of mud, the sludge nearly rising to his armpits. He held his arms up above the mud, one facing Sky, the other stretched out toward his bag, just out of reach, half-submerged and slowly sinking.

“There’s- there’s a goddessdamned sinkhole or something- I don’t know, but I can’t move and-“ Legend stammered, anger overlaying what Sky recognized as fear. At first, Sky thought being submerged in thick sludge might be the cause of the panic tinging the veteran’s tone. Then a low rumbling noise that sounded dangerously close to a laugh reached his ears. Legend’s head whipped around and Sky’s gaze snapped up to see a massive one-eyed creature on the other side of the sinkhole, gradually making its way toward Legend. The mud didn’t seem to be much of a hindrance to it as the monster slogged through, the muck only barely reaching above its knees. It reminded Sky of the hinox that Wild had described, but the champion had never said the monster was as muscly as the one moving toward Legend. The monster’s mouth stretched into far too happy of a grin, its wide eye fixed hungrily on the veteran as he struggled to reach his bag. His fingers just brushed against one of the straps but couldn’t grab hold.

“Goddessdammit!” Legend yelled, panic much more apparent in his tone as the shadow of the hinox fell over him. The air vibrated as the monster rumbled another laugh, reaching toward Legend.

An arrow lodged itself in the hinox’s cheek. Its eye rolled upwards, landing on Sky who stood with his bow out, already nocking another arrow. It watched him for a moment before looking back down at Legend, seemingly more interested in the hero who was trapped and unable to easily defend himself.

“Hey!” Sky shouted, drawing his bow. The hinox looked up at the call and Sky let the arrow fly. It found its mark, burying into the creature’s eye. It roared and shook its head, rubbing its eye and dislodging the arrow. It recovered far too quickly, leveling its gaze at Sky and continuing to smile widely. Mud sloshing around its legs, the hinox lumbered toward him. Sky fired another arrow but he overshot, grazing the top of the hinox’s head and slicing through its hair. He fumbled to nock another arrow but the monster was already upon him. He darted to the side, skirting along the edge of the sinkhole and out of the hinox’s reach. He turned, raising his bow.

“Sky, move!” Legend roared.

The warning came just a moment too late. When Sky spun, the hinox suddenly had a bomb in its hand, already throwing it before Sky had even fully turned. Sky dove to the side just as the bomb exploded, the blast sending him even further. He hit the ground hard, pain blooming in the side that took the brunt of the explosion. He pushed himself to his hands and knees, nausea and dizziness threatening to pull him back down. His ears rang from the blast and Legend’s screams of warning were just a dull roar. A shadow fell over him. He scrambled to his feet, stumbling away and reaching for the Master Sword at his back. A massive hand closed around his abdomen, snatching him off the ground and lifting him high into the air. The hinox squeezed him and Sky let out a strangled cry at the crushing pressure on his ribs. He reached for his sword again, but before he could even try to free himself, the hinox reeled back and hurled him. Sky yelled as he hurtled through the air, sailing over the sinkhole and landing flat on his back on the other side. The impact knocked all the air out of his lungs, leaving him sputtering for breathing as a rumbling laugh left the hinox. Rhythmic vibrations shook him and he forced himself to sit up, ribs aching. His eyes widened as he was greeted with the sight of the hinox charging him, kicking mud in every direction as it plowed through. Sky scrambled to get out of the way but he couldn’t move fast enough. Pain flared in his chest as the hinox roughly grabbed him again, turning and chucking him back across the sinkhole. He slammed into a tree, blackness leaping into his vision and staying there as he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. He groaned, prying his eyelids apart – when did he close them? – and pushing himself onto his elbows. His vision swam and he squinted through the blurriness at the giant orange blob readying to charge him again.

Sky plunged a hand into his pouch and pulled out his clawshot. He haphazardly aimed at a tree and launched it as the hinox ran at him, arms spread wide to grab him. The clawshot gripped onto a branch. The chain snapped taut and yanked Sky to the side. It dragged him along the ground, the hinox swiping at the spot he’d been lying moments ago. He somehow managed to get his feet under him and stop the clawshot before it pulled him headlong into the tree trunk. He spun around to face the hinox, biting his lip in an attempt to fight the accompanying dizziness back. The ground rumbled beneath him as the hinox charged him once again, smiling widely. Sky gritted his teeth, spreading his stance and unsheathing the Master Sword. He stared down the hinox, ignoring Legend’s shouts for him to get out of the way, what the hell are you doing. At the last possible moment, when he could see the veins in the hinox’s eye, he dove to the side. Displaced air swept past him as the hinox rushed by. He tucked into a roll, sprang to his feet and spun, swinging his blade in a wide arc. It dug deep into the monster’s leg, tearing through the flesh and loosing a spray of blood. The monster roared and stumbled, turning to face Sky but he was already on the move again. He darted around the hinox’s side, ducking under its hand as it moved to grab him. With a grunt, he drew another deep gash in the back of the hinox’s knee. It fell into a kneel and Sky wasted no time in thrusting his sword deep into the monster’s back. He twisted the hilt and yanked the blade up and out. The resulting screech of the hinox made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It thrashed, one arm catching Sky in the chest and sending him flying. He hit the ground hard, his already bruised ribs crying out as he rolled to a stop. He gasped, pushing himself onto his elbows, sword still somehow clutched in his hand.

“Stay clear!” Legend shouted.

Sky struggled to his knees, squinting over at the veteran. Legend was even deeper in the mud than before, half on his side, the right half of his face caked with sludge. He gripped something in the hand not stuck in mud, aiming at the hinox. The monster lumbered to its feet, blood flowing from its wounds. It turned to face Sky, smile even wider than before, practically pinning him in place with its gaze. A roar erupted from where Legend was. A massive torrent of fire burst from the item in his hand. It bloomed and completely engulfed the hinox. It let loose an ear-splitting screech, the sound sending shocks through Sky’s body as it was incinerated where it stood. A blast of heat rushed over Sky, pushing his bangs back. The fire kept coming and he didn’t know where the flames ended and the monster began. After what felt like an eternity, Legend let the flames die, Sky’s ears ringing in the abrupt quiet. All that remained of the hinox was a blackened husk. It collapsed, bits of broiled flesh crumbling away at the impact.

Sky remained where he kneeled, breathing hard, eyes wide as he stared at the remains of the hinox. A groan from Legend snapped him out of his stupor and he scrambled to his feet, wincing at the sharp throb in his chest. Needles pricked at his throat with each breath, jaw aching. He half-stumbled, half-ran over to Legend, stopping at the edge of the sinkhole. Legend had sunk almost past his neck, one shoulder poking up above the mud as if he’d thrown himself sideways. His exposed arm loosely held his fire rod, keeping it above the surface of the mud. His eyes were screwed shut, face pale as he took shallow breaths through his mouth.

“Vet!” Sky called, concern lacing his tone. Legend cracked his eyes open, gaze gliding around before managing to focus on Sky.

“Oh, hey,” he croaked. His tongue flitted across his lips. “I’m good, just… overdid it with my magic, is all.”

“Just hang on, I’ll get you out,” Sky said. He quickly pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped the blood from his sword before hastily sheathing it. He sent a mental apology to Fi, promising to clean her properly later.

“No need to rush,” Legend said, words slurring a little. “I was jus’ getting comfortable, anyway.”

Sky sent him a concerned glance as he dug around in his pouch. His fingers closed around the handle of his clawshot and he pulled it out. He fired it off to the side and grabbed the extended chain. Gentle as he could, he tossed the claw toward Legend, the metal landing beside him on the mud.

“Grab onto this,” Sky instructed.

Legend blinked then nodded slowly. He reached for it before seeming to remember his hand was occupied with the fire rod. He looked between the rod and claw before making a motion that Sky assumed was an attempted shrug and clamping the rod sideways between his teeth. Then he gave Sky a thumbs-up and grabbed onto the clawshot chain. Carefully, Sky pressed the release to retract the chain. It clicked and grew taut, tugging on Legend’s arm. Sky grabbed onto the chain with his other hand and pulled, leaning all his weight back. He grunted, heaving with all his might. Legend said something around the fire rod in his mouth but Sky had absolutely no idea what he was trying to say. He yanked harder against the clawshot, throwing all his weight back. Legend made a pained sound, wincing, hand tensing around the chain. Sky stopped, worried he was just hurting his friend but the veteran shook his head, brow furrowed in a determined look. Sky chewed his lip but eventually started pulling again. He heaved and dug his heels into the dirt, boots sliding from the force. Legend yelled something else Sky couldn’t understand, but from his tone, it sounded encouraging. Sky took a step back as his feet threatened to slide out from under him, arms aching. Then, just when his arms were about to give out, there was a suction sound followed by a loud pop. Sky yelped, falling flat on his back as he yanked Legend from the mud, the veteran sliding out onto the edge of the sinkhole, a trail of black muck smeared behind him. Sky scrambled over to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, hands hovering over Legend as the veteran rolled onto his back, breathing hard. “Are you hurt?”

Legend pulled the fire rod from his mouth, arm flopping down on the grass. In his other hand he clutched his bag which was absolutely coated in black mud. The stuff covered most of him, muck clinging to his hair and skin, coloring his tunic black save for the sleeve that had been left out of the mud.

“I’m good,” Legend said breathlessly. He groaned and moved to sit up, clothes squelching as he did. Sky helped him up, Legend heaving a sigh once he was seated upright. He prodded at his mud covered legs, flexing his knees. “Legs sorta feel like… tingly, but ‘s not so bad.”

Sky pursed his lips at the slur in Legend’s words. He placed a hand on the veteran’s shoulder, making sure Legend met his gaze. “You sure you’re good?”

Legend flapped a hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just gotta eat somethin’ an’ I’ll be fine.”

Sky reached into his pouch. “I’ve got some heart potion left if-“

“No, no that won’t help,” Legend cut him off. “Overused my magic, ‘s not an injury, really.”

“What about a stamina potion?” Sky offered. “It replenishes energy.”

Legend hummed in thought. “Maybe? Doubt it. Could, though?”

Sky searched through his pouch and pulled out the bottle filled with green liquid. “Worth a shot.”

Legend took the bottle from him. He uncorked and swirled it, watching the liquid for a moment before downing it. He lowered the empty bottle with a gasp, eyes flying open.

“Did it work?” Sky asked hopefully.

“It… kind of?” Legend handed the bottle back to Sky, words sounding clearer. “Didn’t do anything for my magic, but I do feel a little better.”

“Oh, good,” Sky sighed, pushing to his feet and brushing himself off. “Hopefully we can make it back to the others before it wears off.”

“Yeah.” Legend moved to stand. “Let’s h-“ He cut himself off with a pained grunt through gritted teeth as he tried to get his feet under him. His legs crumpled and Sky gasped, quickly reaching out and steadying him.

“What’s wrong?” Sky asked as Legend let out a hiss through his teeth. “Are you injured?”

“No, it’s just-“ Legend paused as Sky lowered him back to the ground, wincing as his legs came to rest on the dirt. “Lost feeling in my legs being trapped in the mud. It’s all coming back at once now.”

Sky winced in sympathy, knowing exactly what Legend was talking about. He was able to fall asleep in just about any position, but the downside would become glaringly apparent when he woke and the arm twisted behind his head would fill with hot needles upon moving it. “Let’s wait until it passes, then.”

Legend nodded, grimacing at any tiny movement of his legs. They sat in silence for a moment, Sky doing his best to ignore the acrid smell of burnt hinox flesh flooding the air. Legend held as still as humanly possible, wincing occasionally. Then Sky remembered the reason they ended up at the sinkhole in the first place.

“Earlier, you heard laughing?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Legend replied with a nod. “You really didn’t hear anything?”

Sky shook his head and Legend frowned. Legend glanced back at the charred monster corpse behind them.

“I still don’t know what it was,” he said.

Sky blinked. “It wasn’t the hinox?”

“No. The hinox sounds much more… monstrous. What I heard was almost human, but not quite. It had some kind of… echo to it. Hard to explain.”

“And you don’t hear it now?”

Legend shook his head. “Stopped as soon as I ran into the sinkhole. It was really loud right before that.”

Sky hummed in thought. “Could it have been a trap?”

“Maybe, but then why could only I hear it? Not a very well-designed trap in that case.”

“Maybe you were the only target.”

Legend huffed at that, rolling his eyes. “Great. Just what I needed. Weird laughter leading me into sinkholes.” He frowned at the pool of mud before them. After a moment he wiggled his legs and gave a sigh of relief. “Okay, I’m good to go now. We should hurry, I think that stamina potion’s starting to wear off.”

Sky nodded and stood. He tried helping Legend up, but the veteran scoffed and brushed him off, standing unsteadily on his own. He bended and straightened his legs a couple times before planting his hands on his hips with a nod. Then his face scrunched in disgust, slowly taking his hands away from his sides, thick mud coating his palms.

“Oh, what-“ He looked down at himself and his eyes widened, nostrils flaring as he took in his mud-caked appearance.

Sky couldn’t help his laugh. “You’re only just now noticing?”

“I was a little preoccupied!” Legend exclaimed, fruitlessly attempting to scrub the half-dried mud from the front of his tunic. “Oh, for the love of- I swear to every goddess above, if this doesn’t wash out-“

He launched into a string of curses, shaking his head and grumbling as he started to walk forward with Sky. His boots squished with each step and he cursed every time. Sky did his very best not to laugh, but judging by the looks Legend kept shooting him, he wasn’t doing a very good job. Legend let out an indignant huff, reaching up to try and wipe the mud off his face. His fingers brushed against his bangs that were crusted with muck. He squawked.

“WHAT THE FUCK, IT’S IN MY HAIR-?!”

[knockyasocksoff2022]

The One Day Return of Double Black

(A/N: I intitailly panned for this to be a relationship reveal but it turned out softer, as many of my writing has lately. I don't mind it though. Also this is my very first time ever writing in 3rd person so please forgive me if it sounds whack as hell. This fic isn't entirley isn't entirely in 3rd person, but I wanted to try out a new style of writing,  so let me know if you like it.)

(4,846 words)

Third Person Perspective:

He walks with a purpose, angry that his partner left for work without him. Isn’t it much more efficient if they come in together? After all, they’re work partners so no one would ever suspect the rings resting under Chuuya's glove and Dazai’s shirt, on a chain that holds it suspended right over his heart.

The route to the headquarters is twisting turns through dark back streets, but Dazai remembers it with perfect clarity as if it were yesterday. To him, it was.

—

Even after all this time not much had changed. The Port Mafia still cower under the gaze of Dazai Osamu. If anything they’re more afraid now. And why shouldn’t they be, he is the only person in history to betray the mafia and walk away alive.

The guards are so scared they hardly pay attention to the way the Demon prodigy’s gaze isn’t as sharp as usual, eyes glazed over, or that his unbrushed hair sticks to his forehead with sweat.

Even if they were to notice, it would go uncommented on because that’s the privilege of being the Demon Prodigy.

So no one says anything when he walks through the lobby of the Mori Corporation, black dress shoes still shiny as the day they last set foot here, clicking evenly as he heads for the lift.

The guards will not radio about his presence to their superiors because they are cowards, too afraid of being punished for letting him in. They will not stop him either, too afraid of being punished if he is truly supposed to be here. They are too afraid of him. The torture master, who seems to have regained sight in his other eye. “How terrifying,” they think, “must he be with full sight instead of half.”

The torture master doesn’t stop to think that it’s strange that his old lift code still works, because right now he doesn’t remember just how old it is, the heat coursing through his body erasing the past four years of conflict.

He stares at his reflection. His suit is still pressed, not a wrinkle visible because it’s been untouched. To anyone else, the garment would have been long outgrown but years of only occasional meals of low-calorie food have allowed him to remain the same size and weight as when he was only a boy.

He does not think he is eighteen again, but maybe he wishes he was. For him, time has passed in a sort of mixed and matched fashion, a quilt of mind and muscle memories. His mind, for the movement at least, exists in a world where things are the same as they’ve always been. And when the lift door opens, he needs only to walk down the corridor, into the meeting room (his biometrics will still work) and his executive seat will be waiting for him (it is) just as it was yesterday. He has no idea that, while he would be welcome, his striding into that room would cause a commotion. To him, this is simply another day.

“Maybe I’ll blow off the meeting, and just bother Slug instead, he did leave without me after all.” The prodigy hums as he thinks to himself.

The lift opens to an empty corridor, the boy’s illusion is safe for now.

Chuuya comes first, before everything. He heads down the opposite end of the corridor, to give his lover a piece of his mind.

Chuuya’s Perspective

The weekly meeting was cancelled, and I hardly have any paperwork so I’d say this counts as a good morning. Maybe Mori-san will ask me to take Elise out for ice cream or something. I don’t mind her, when she’s away from him she’s really a nice kid. I won’t dwell too much on the fact that she’s been a kid the entire time I’ve known her, maybe her ability has something to do with shape-shifting.

(A/N: Chuuya likes to be with Elise because it makes him feel tall.)

The door slams open. It’s not the noise that makes me drop my pen, but the person standing in my doorway.

“Ne Chibi! You horrible ungrateful slug, you left me at home! Honestly, you’re so disrespectful. You made me late, I should report you to Mori-san, but I won't because I’m such a good partner, not like you.” 

And suddenly . . .

He’s 16 again. 

A teenager in demeanour but a man in physique, and I’d be lying by omission if I failed to mention how he looks in that suit. The whole situation takes my breath away, proof that love trumps logic when my first thoughts on his sudden appearance here are thirsty ones and not concern.

It makes me a bit sick to think that he’s still skinny enough to fit into something he wore when he was eighteen.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” That's what I want to say, but Dazai’s realm is logic, shifting the pieces from the background. Brute force won’t get me anywhere, it only makes him curl defensively into himself, like a porcupine.

“First of all, you’re the ungrateful one, you brat! You’re the one that sleeps until ungodly hours of the morning. I left you breakfast, did you want a note or something? I’m not your mother!”

He crosses his arms, stepping closer to my desk. I don’t stop him, “Breakfast was absolutely terrible, like everything else you cook, and you still left me—”

I want to laugh, we both know my cooking is exquisite, but there’s something more upsetting about what he said. “Wait, you didn’t drive here, did you?”

“How else was I supposed to get to work when you LEFT ME!” he emphasises the last two words, hopping up to sit on the edge of my desk. I sit on my hands so I don't end up shoving him out of the window.

“I can’t believe you! How many property damage fees do we owe now? Never mind, don't answer that. God! You’re giving me a headache already. And stop going on about how I left you, this isn’t bringing your fish to work day. Why are you even here at all? If you bothered to drive, why didn’t you go to work?”

“I did. I’m here, aren’t I? I could’ve ditched, but nooo, I came in just for you, hatrack.”

“You know you don’t work here anymore, dumbass.” It’s a joke, we both know it. This is just something Osamu would do, come back and act like everything is normal just to psych me out. I always swear not to let his antics phase me but something about him today is ‘off ’. It’s already driving me insane how I can’t put my finger on it.

“Yes I do, I always have, does Chibi have amnesia or did he just finally run out of memory storage in that small brain of his?” He tugs on my hat and I reach out to punch him but he sinks down before I can.

“My brain is just the same size as yours. You don’t work here, and if you think you do then you’re the one with mental problems, not me!”

“Ah, my dog is so mean to me! Bad dog! Bad dog!”

“I’m not your fucking dog you sleazy bastard.”

“Big words coming from a chibikko hatrack.” He remarks, shrugging casually.

These words finally make me pause. As much as we still love sniping at each other, many of these nicknames are hardly ever used anymore, ones we save for times when we both need the nostalgia. Hatrack. I haven’t heard that one in forever, and despite the jeering nature, it sends a flood of warmth through me.

Is that what he’s here for? The nostalgia of it all? Is this what he wants? 

I scrutinise his face for any trace of his motives, taking in every detail. He’s a glorious enigma. His jet-black hair is matted, a snarl that still manages to look fluffy. There’s something stiff about the way it frames his face as if stuck on by glue.

His eyes are bright, a different kind of bright than when he usually teases me, or the soft aura they get when it’s just us alone at home. Normally when he teases me his irises maintain that darkness, almost black, eating all light that enters them, but now they almost appear chocolate brown, reflecting the light. Glossy, sparkling with a shine like the surface of the ocean under the summer sun. It’s disconcerting, wrong, like when he smiles just a little too wide. I don’t dislike it, but I know it isn’t right.

He hasn’t shaved in a while and there’s stubble forming around his jaw, the dark contrasting with his pale features, too pale, the barely visible bags of his eyes making his eyes look far too big.

If nostalgia is what he wants then I’d be happy to give it to him, but I don’t think it is. This is something beyond either of our control.

Shit.

Great, this is just great! What am I gonna do with him now?

“Is Chibi going to apologise to me, or will he be sleeping on the sofa tonight?”

I step closer. I know what’s wrong, but I’ll need to touch him to be sure.

We’re so close now that I can feel the heat radiating off him, his coat certainly isn’t helping. I run at a higher temperature because of Arahabaki, so if I can feel it, it’s bad. He needs a doctor fast, but he’s so stubborn . . . how can I make him come willingly?

“I’m sorry I left you, Osa. You just looked so peaceful sleeping, I couldn’t wake you.” I whisper the words, standing on my tip-toes, leaning forward, closing the small gap between us.

It’s true, with his insomnia being how it is a full night's sleep is rare and when he does get it I let him sleep for as long as he possibly can. I think his colleagues think he sleeps late but most of the time he’s laying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to get up or trying another method of suicide he found on some sketchy webpage with r-rated pop-up ads.

When my lips meet his I gasp, he tries to deepen the kiss and put his tongue in my mouth. I don’t let him. He responds by pulling the long piece of my hair. I pull away, still grasping his shoulders. I’d been expecting warmth but not like this. Holding him is like holding a flame, his skin feeling like he’s been outside for hours in the summer heat. 

“Fuck! Shit! Dammit, Osa! You’re burning up.”

He just laughs, “So Chibi does think I’m hot, I knew it!” he grins in triumph, of course, he would be laughing with a temperature like this, “You earned your way back to the bed–”

“Actually, I will be sleeping on the sofa, I have no intention of catching whatever you have. We need to get you to the infirmary, Mori-san will have something for you.”

I grab his hand and pull him out the door. I should be worried about people seeing him, but they won’t hurt him. And should they try I won’t let them. I hold Osamu’s burning hand all the way to the lift. How he’s still even functioning, much less standing with a fever like this makes me think he really isn’t human.

The infirmary is only one floor below us, just below the training room, but the training room takes up the space of three floors and the lift isn’t going nearly fast enough for my liking, so I use my ability to drop it.

I thank god for Osamu’s awareness and that he doesn’t cling to me for support and risk cancelling my ability.

When we reach the right floor I release the lift from For The Tainted Sorrow, it clunks loudly to a stop.

The infirmary takes up this entire floor, you might think we’d need multiple floors for enough space, and we do, but this is the so-named special infirmary. (Some of us call it the Meat Locker, behind Mori-san’s back because it’s always so cold.) Mori-san works here when he’s not busy planning strategy. This facility is for the top mafia operatives and is thus equipped to handle ability users and ability-related injuries. The grunts and foot soldiers use the larger infirmary lower in the building.

I set Osamu on the nearest bed and go to find a nurse. The nurses must be in between shifts, but I find Elise. She’s wearing a small nurse’s uniform, hat and all. When I was first told she worked in here I was extremely sceptical but her medical knowledge is as vast as Mori-san and she’s never made a mistake in treating a wound. (This backs up my theory that she’s not actually a child, but an adult who likes to shapeshift into child form, for whatever reason.)

(A/N: HC that Elise possesses all the same basic skills that Mori-san has, like she can do surgery and she could drive but it’s a bit hard for her to reach the pedals and see over the dash. Also in this fic, Chuuya doesn't know Elise is Mori-san’s ability.)

Elise greets me, “You’re here with Osamu aren’t you?”

“How-”

“It’s the look on your face, only he can bring that worry and desperation out in you. What’s happened to him, another attempt?”

“No, he has a fever.”

Elise glares and rolls her eyes, “A fever, seriously!”

“Come on, Elise, you know I wouldn’t have brought him here if it wasn’t bad, and it’s bad.”

“True. Does he have any other symptoms?”

“No, but he’s delirious, he thinks he still works here.”

“Oh, I’m sure Rintarou loves that.” Her dry humour at the expense of Mori-san always amuses me, but I don't laugh now.

“He doesn’t know yet.”

“Are you hiding Osamu?”

“No, he just marched in here as far as I can tell, but I didn’t get a chance to tell Mori-san yet. I figured I’d do it when he’s not dying.”

Elise shrugs, “Fair.”

We’re at Osamu’s bed now, and I can see what he so easily hides from everyone else. He’s starting to wear, the fever finally taking its toll, still, he looks much better than he should and it creeps me out a bit.

Elise feels his forehead, but unlike me, maintains her composure simply nodding and pulling out a thermometer. He doesn’t let Elise stick the thermometer in his ear, so I do it, while she disappears into the medication store room.

After too long, the device beeps.

39.4℃

How is he even . . .? Right, he’s Dazai, of course, he’s fine. The damn cockroach!

Elise is back, pushing a cart with a glass pitcher, a stack of fabric, and medication, which Osamu takes only after I give him a stern look.

Elise takes a stack of fabric, white clothes, and lays them on the bed.

“Fevers like this are dangerous, he’ll need to stay hydrated.” She sets the pitcher on the table beside the bed, “This is mineral water, make sure he drinks all of it, and when it’s empty fill it up again, they’re bottles in the fridge in the store room. If he starts showing any more symptoms let me know, but unless something changes, he should be okay to go home tonight.”

I nod, dumping my coat and hat into the bed next to us, and pouring some water into the glass cup, holding it carefully out to my husband. He doesn’t take it.

“You can get changed first, but then you have to drink water, okay.”

He nods.

I hand him the stack of clothes and pull the curtain around the bed.

When he doesn’t stand I begin pulling off his trench coat. He sits up a bit, allowing me to remove the heavy garment, then flops back down, I sigh and let my finger trace his collarbone while I untie his tie, he leans into the contact, more alert now. I ignore how my warm touch feeling cool to him isn’t a good thing in favour of unbuttoning his shirt.

Now all that’s left are his bandages.

They’re stuck to his skin with sweat but eventually, I peel them all off, his pale fevered skin glowing sickly under the fluorescent lights.

A cool shower or bath would be ideal but I settle for wetting a towel under the sink and patting him down gently with it. He leans into my touch and for just a second I think he’s fallen asleep but then his eyes blink open so fast it makes me jump a little. Swatting his bare arm, I help him put on the soft white pants and a loose white t-shirt.

He still doesn’t touch his water.

I hold it out to him, “You gotta drink, Osa, having a fever like this isn’t good for you, we need to get it down. Then we can go home and watch whatever shitty movies you like.”

He shakes his head.

“Osamu!”

He’s staring at me like he's drinking in every aspect of my being like I did for him in my office.

“I like it when Chuuya is my partner.” He finally says.

“I’ll always be your partner, you silly fish. Forever remember, we promised.” I take off my glove, showing him the ring, a shining metal thing. Two bands of stainless steel with azure sapphires running a line in between them.

Osamu takes out his own ring, two iron bands, with blood-red rubies in between, and rolls it in his palms, not saying anything.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean it like this.” He gestures to the infirmary around us but I still don’t understand.

“I like being Chuuya’s work partner,” he explains, looking more alert now, the medication must be working. “I like it, knowing that everything is still the same, being here and knowing I belong.”

Oh. “You’ll always belong here.”

“Maybe so, but I could never ignore Oda’s last wish like that. I’m already remembering, and I know that once I stop having a temperature everything will go back to normal. But I want . . . I want to stay here with you, hatrack, in this time capsule, just a bit longer.”

Softness and tender love may be what he needs, but it’s not what he wants. Well, then I’ll play along. I don’t mind at all. If he wants to be sixteen again, who am I to deny him that? I’ll love and care for him in the same burning way I did back then.

I sigh, sitting up straighter, leaning away from him, removing any trace of softness from my voice and getting into character. “Hmph! Of course, a mackerel like you would want to stay here longer! I thought you hated pain. And, don’t give me those eyes, I’m not gonna do your paperwork for you.”

He smiles that goofy smile, understanding what I’m doing, not at all offended by my harsh tone.

“Ah, but dogs are supposed to be loyal, and I’m sooo dreadfully ill!” He flops back dramatically

The next line comes easily, “I am not your damn dog!”

We fall back into the teenage banter embarrassingly easily as he goes on about how his greater height makes him the master. It feels like only yesterday that I was in the arcade, choosing to follow him instead of Shirase and Yuan, as I shove a cup of the mineral water towards him, splashing his face. 16-year-old me wouldn’t have reached for a towel to dry his face, so I don’t either. It’s probably okay since he still has a fever.

“Just shut up and drink, you mummified fish!”

He dips his finger in the cup and flicks water at me.

“Dammit, shitty Dazai! Drink it and drown for all I care.”

He takes a slow sip, then another, downing the cup in seconds, his following of my command the only thing shattering the illusion. It makes me laugh how I still call him Dazai when I tease him, even though he hasn’t had that surname in years. I think he’ll always be Dazai, on some level.

-

The day passes surprisingly quickly. With the help of the medication, cool clothes and water, Osamu’s temperature steadily returns to normal.

I tell him about the upcoming mission Mori-san has for ‘us’ and we complain about it. I hear Elise’s chime-like laughter from the store room. Even with his head foggy he offers strategies that make me wish he would still sit at the executive table.

I complain to him about how Mori-san is probably going to make me do paperwork on this incident, and he replies that it’s my own fault because I shouldn’t have left without him, and could have just left him in my office. “But you didn’t, because Chibikko cares about me~~~” he sing-songs.

“In your fucking dreams maybe!” The denial sounds so false on my lips that we both burst out laughing. His eyes are clear again, the haze of fever gone, he doesn't think he’s my work partner anymore, but neither of us stops the banter.

-

After a while though, the sun begins to slip lower and lower in the sky. I take Osamu’s temperature, it’s normal. The pretending is officially over.

“You're all better, Osa. As soon as Elise clears you, we can go home.” I let the softness return to my voice.

I expected him to be disappointed, but he smiles softly, tucking his hair behind his ear in that pretty way he does. Sometimes we both yearn for the nostalgia of simpler times, but we both know that what we have now, between us and only us, is a million times better.

I’ll miss this, but I won’t miss the old port mafia dorm or Osamu’s shipping container. I won’t miss when we didn’t have our own home, the place that is ours. A place we don’t have to hide. I won’t miss the time before I wore a metal ring under my glove. 

I do miss our large king bed, open plan kitchen, luxurious sofa, and our spacious shower.

My stomach rumbles, “God, I’m fucking starving.”

Osamu pats his own stomach, and we remember neither of us had lunch. For some reason, it seems like the funniest thing. We can’t stop laughing for a full minute.

I sigh, catching my breath. “Do you feel well enough to eat? We have leftovers in the fridge, or I can make okayu.”

“Hmm, I know it’s late, but I’m restless from lying down all day, we should go out somewhere?”

I give him a once over. He looks fine. “Yeah, sure. How about that old ramen and sushi place, you know, near–”

“The arcade, yeah.” he finishes my sentence.

“I’ll go get Elise.” Before I can get up there's the sound of even steps on the tile floor.

“Chuuya-san, Dazai-kun, I’ve been meaning to come check on you two.” Mori’s voice and silhouette are familiar, even in the dark infirmary.

“Mori-san.” I nod to my boss. If he’s surprised to see Osamu here he doesn't show it.

“Oh, you can drop the formalities for now, and don’t worry, I’m not here about your paperwork, I gave you the day off as soon as Elise informed me of the situation. Thank you for visiting our fine establishment today, Dazai-kun, I’m glad you’re back to full health. Please know you’re welcome back anytime you like.”

With that, he walks off. Most of the time I laugh when Mori asks Osamu to come back. He won’t force him back and even then Osamu would find a way not to come if he didn’t want to. After today though, I find myself wishing Osamu would accept. We were such a good team, and we still are. But I respect his wanting to stay in the light for Oda, and I can be more than content with having him be mine all mine outside of work.

Elise feels Osamu’s forehead, taking his temperature one last time, and declares him cleared.

I smile as she leaves, we both do.

He looks at his clothes scattered on the floor.

“Those are all sweaty, you shouldn’t wear them. And no bandages either, you can put them back on at home, after you’ve had a shower.”

He gives me puppy eyes, “Fine. Would a dog lend his master some of his clothes?”

“Fuck no!”

“Ugh, not the ones you’re wearing . . . though I would like to see you naked.”

I smack him lightly on his head.

He shrugs, “Can’t I be honest with my husband? But only I get to see Chibi naked, you can keep your clothes. I know you keep spare stuff in your office in case you have to work overnight.”

I roll my eyes and pull him up, grabbing his clothes and my own coat and hat.

-

He looks at home in my office, lounging on the sofa looking as if he never left, as if I woke up and came back in here realising that his betrayal was merely a dream. 

But I know he never left me, not really.

The clothes I keep in my drawer are for all sorts of emergencies.

A copy of my usual work outfit in case it gets bloody or something.

Pyjamas if I have to sleep here

A formal suit for the dinners we executives have to attend with Port mafia associates.

Some old casual clothes if I have a stake-out mission

And a nice but not fancy outfit for when I have a date with Osamu and I’m not able to stop at home to get ready first.

I take pieces from each of the last three outfits for Osamu, already laughing as I picture how short the sleeves and trousers will be on him. It’s his fault that his arms and legs are so ridiculously long.

I hand him the clothes and he seems to be thinking the same thing (we often are). His face morphs into a look of teasing disgust. “Ewwww! I have to wear Chuuya’s tacky clothes.”

But he gives no protest as I help him undress. Thankfully the suit is new enough that I hadn't hemmed the slacks yet, and because he’s so skinny the waistband shouldn’t be a problem.

Taking inspiration I decided to go for something more casual myself.

-

The outfit is mismatched but when I stand back it all somehow fits. Frustratingly, he’s managing to pull off the white tee shirt, black slacks, and red hoodie.

I wear a black tee shirt, an old worn pair of jeans and a blue Yokohama Tigers bomber jacket.

He laughs, holding me just off the ground, “We match.”

“Yeah, Now let me go, I’m hungry!”

I stuff our clothes in a paper bag I have left over from my last trip to the wine shop and we’re off.

-

I’d almost forgotten about it but the weight that comes off my shoulders when I see that Osamu’s car is miraculously unscathed is immense.

I drive this time, while Osamu stretches himself out in the backseat, singing loudly along to the music on the radio.

-

The sleek car will stick out on this side of town so I park in an alleyway.

“You good to walk the rest of the way?”

“Yup.”

People stare at us as we walk. I don’t blame them, I’m sure I look like some kind of punk high schooler and then there's Osamu with his dress trousers and shoes with a hoodie.

It makes me feel fifteen again, people used to stare at us then too.

The ramen joint is run by a small gang, but they don’t interfere with us so we leave them alone. The owner still shakes in fear when we enter, wondering what business I could have with him.

“We’re just here for the food,” I say, not paying him a glance as I take two menus from the counter. He sighs in relief.

-

The food takes a bit longer than usual, but I swear it’s twice as delicious. I think they must still be worried about my business here.

Osamu and I eat wordlessly, the food is too good to be uninterrupted by any conversation. When we’re together we don’t need words anyway, and when we’re done we both stare out the window. We can see the bright lights of the arcade from here, one of the only and brightest lights around, a beacon in the night.

Osamu looks at me, I look at him. There’s a certain glimmer in his eyes, the one I used to crave like it was life itself before I knew he returned my feelings. I can see the shine in my own eyes reflected in his.

I take a wad of cash out of my wallet and drop it on the table, the waitress looks at us with wide eyes as we leave. I say nothing but Osamu waves goodbye to the owner like a little kid, the gleam in his eyes only intensifying.

The sun has completely disappeared from sight now, and we should go home and go to bed like responsible adults, especially after the day Osamu’s had. But it’s not the first time and it won’t be the last so what’s a little disregard for personal health for old-time’s sake?

[literarybaby]

challengers inspired rp plots!

hi everyone! i am not sure if i am alone in this but i have been having deep, deep challengers brainrot. so i thought i would take the opportunity to share some tennis-themed/challengers-inspired plot bunnies with you. with a couple of these, i’ve had the absolute pleasure of playing out or at least, brainstorming with some of my current writing partners.

all titles are from the soundtrack - ty trent r & divider is by @cafekitsune

some of these have more darker and mature themes, but can be adapted to work at any level. all of these can be adapted to work with any pairing as well. and probably sport — if you squint. 

if you’re interested, feel free to reach out about any of these if you'd like to write together.

also feel free to take them and make them your own! enjoy!

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘

muse a is a young rising star in tennis (think tashi in the first half of the movie). they are on everyone’s radar as the one to go down in history and join the ranks of the past greats. adidas already has them in a campaign. and soon, they’re probably going to turn their whole family into millionaires. however, during a game, they suffer a traumatic and freak injury which looks like it will derail their entire career. muse a is devastated as everything they’ve ever wanted or worked for will come to an end. enter muse b — an older, successful surgeon — who decides to help a depressed and lost muse a. fixing broken body parts is part of their job and they are able to do so easily. even kinder, they support muse a through their recovery and physical therapy. unbeknownst to muse a and everyone in their lives, muse b has been grooming them — giving them treatment beyond what a medical professional should offer. this leads to muse a entering into a relationship with muse b where the power dynamic is totally whack. with muse a recovering and being back on their game, they feel they totally owe it all to muse b’s god hands and want to pay them back with any means necessary. 

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 / 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

muse a and muse b are the perfect tennis doubles tennis partners. so much so, they have corny nicknames like fire and ice. they are best friends, practice partners, and have long shared history. optional: muse a can be more a technically perfect player and muse b is pure, raw talent. unbeknownst to muse b, muse a has been hopelessly in love with them the entire time but is in the closet/in denial. when muse b starts to cluelessly date someone (optional: muse c if you want mumu), muse a is jealous and their friendship slowly starts to deteriorate with muse b frustrated and confused why this is happening. skip a few years, muse a and muse b find themselves on opposite sides of the net as the biggest rivals in tennis. years of resentment, avoidance, and pressure have culminated in this moment. should they repair their relationship? will they ever talk about it? maybe there’s still a chance or will someone end up hurt again?

𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐗 𝟏𝟎

muse a is an older and seasoned tennis veteran. truthfully, they aren’t as good as they used to be and are on the verge of retirement. they decide that this tournament(possibly set at wimbledon?)will be their last and they’ll retire after regardless of the outcome. but during, they meet the young muse b — someone spunky and maybe they have a bad temper like john mcenroe — but they’re not like anyone else muse a has ever met. they challenge them. they intrigue them. however, this romance comes at the worst time as muse b desperately wants to win the tournament and this is a bit of a distraction. so should muse a and muse b embrace the distraction and get caught up in the whirlwind of things, despite knowing love means absolutely nothing in tennis. 

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑

muse a is a down-on-their-luck tennis player. they’re definitely not a ranked player or really famous at all, but this is all they know. they’re still good, and believe they have in them to win a grand slam or a major tournament, despite their age and more importantly, their financial situation. sometimes they are sleeping in their car if they can’t afford a motel on tour, but sometimes, they get even more desperate — which is how they found muse b, on tinder, swiping right on literally everyone until they get a match. muse b thinks they’re going on a date with a professional athlete but little do they know, muse a is flat broke and is only with them for a hot meal and a warm bed. should muse b figure this out? or maybe as they go on the date, both muses feel a connection — does that mean muse a will come clean with their intentions? or will muse b be saddled with supporting muse a’s broke ass? 

𝐋’𝐎𝐄𝐔𝐅

muse a is a young and naive tennis player from a small town/country. they come from a nice, wholesome family. being a professional athlete was sort of by chance too, so they have absolutely know idea how to navigate the pressurized world of fame and fortune. fortunatelyor unfortunately, they get help from muse b — a cut-throat, smart, and cunning sports agent. muse b is able to set muse a up with an fancy apartment, good sponsorship deals, hefty contracts, and soon become the voice of reason for muse a. muse b is determined to guide muse a to the big star lights and away from their country mouse past. it gets to the point where muse a can’t do anything without muse b. will muse a ever get away from muse b? or will muse b abuse their power? could involve isolating them from their family, controlling their spending, and even baby-trapping them.

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐑

muse a is retired professional tennis player and decides become a instructor at a fancy, schmancy country club. they decided to take this job not because for the love of the sport, but to further themselves as the club is crawling with unsuspecting rich people with good connections just waiting to be made. muse a meets muse b, a naive, rich kid who takes tennis lessons. they get on really well and decide to bring muse a to meet their family. through a series of carefully crafted lies, muse a and b get closer and closer until they’re in a relationship. muse b starts asking their parents to get muse a better job, better clothes, and ultimately, a better life. but what happens when someone or something from muse a’s past comes rearing its ugly head and threatens to expose and break this carefully plotted dream life? does muse a confess to muse b, or does muse b dump them? or is muse a crazy enough to keep lying to keep muse b and their perfect new life theirs for good?

"𝐈 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖"

muse a is a professional tennis player who seems like they have the perfect life. they’re winning, rich, have a partner who is possibly their coach, and even a child. little does everyone know, it’s not all roses on the inside. their partner is cheating on them and it’s really throwing off all the other parts of their life — especially their game. so they decide to cheat too, with muse b — someone who isn’t part of this crazy tennis world. immediately, it’s steamy and exciting having an affair. it really jumpstarts muse a’s attitude and they start winning again. when muse a’s partner (could even be a muse c) finds out, they could hardly care less and is happy that something is finally getting muse a motivated again. but muse b isn’t satisfied with just being a secret, not when they play such a pivotal role in muse a’s life. maybe they decide to expose muse a and their partner? or maybe they threaten to leave? or maybe they try to navigate this as a threesome?

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐓

muse a is a successful, professional tennis player. they’re winning tournaments. they’re living their best life on the ATP/WTA tour. being on the road is great but is a bit lonely sometimes despite all the cool sponsorship parties and galas. dating is too hard too, as it’s difficult to stay connected within all these time zones and from all these far away places. instead, they use an expensive celebrity escort service and meet muse b. muse b can quell the sting of loneliness on the road and it’s low commitment — only calling them up when they’re in town. however, this last time leads to muse b getting pregnant accidentally. now muse a has to decide if they want to step up to the plate and be a parent, and if they do, how do they explain how they met their partner to the press?bonus points ifmuse bhas slept with other tennis players and their services are not a well-kept secret.

[jaembun]

i can’t get over you.

you’re not together, and you never check your inbox. he carries on anyway ！⠀⸻⠀lee donghyuck x gnr ⠀ angst (?) fwb au voicemail format ⠀ cw mentions of drinking & vomiting suggestive (ish) ⠀ wc 1.6k ⠀ now playing . . ☆

생각⠀writing a whole ex fwbs smau aint enough nooo i gotta write ts too 🤦‍♂️

⠀☆⠀00:12 AM

wow. that was—great. i had a good time, and i hope you did too. i think your phone’s dead, because you were all over chenle asking to borrow his, so maybe you’ll only hear this in the morning.  [he laughs]  i hope the hangover isn’t too awful tomorrow. my hip doesn’t hurt too bad from whacking it on that counter, in case you were wondering. i didn’t know you were gonna lift me like that, that was crazy! mark gave me a weird look when i came back to the others, but he always looks like that after a few shots—like he’s just sucked on a lemon. anyway, goodnight. get back to me soon, yeah? maybe we could do that again—it doesn’t have to be serious, no labels or anything. just a bit of fun between friends.

⠀☆⠀11:35 PM

[whispering]  my phone’s the one nearly dead this time. eight percent, so i gotta make it quick. tonight was.. really nice. thanks again. the takeout was really cool of you too, and i’ll pay you back when i get in. i’m talking so quiet ‘cause im in an uber, and i think i just saw the driver giving me a dirty look through the mirror. he has his own playlist on—i mean, unless there’s a new radio station called ‘on the grind’ with two fire emojis and, like, the one of the arm flexing? it’s all been pretty bad stuff so far, but there was this one song, and—it kinda reminded me of you, a bit.  [a pause, before he brushes over it]  i tried to shazam it because i’d look weird leaning over the console to see what it was called, but it was over by then. bummer! we’re coming up on my street now, though, and i’m on three percent now, so i’ll go. see you soon?

⠀☆⠀09:47 PM

injunnie asked me about that mark you left. i made up something about my kitchen cabinet door, but i know he didn’t really believe me. he had that look in his eye, you know? that one where it feels like he sees right through you. anyway.. maybe we should keep them somewhere less noticeable next time? we’re not—you know.

i’m going out with mark and chenle tonight. they’re doing a two-for-one on cocktails and there’s karaoke, so i think it’ll be fun. i probably won’t see it ‘til tomorrow, but call back when you hear this.  [he laughs]  or if i am still up and drunk when you call then you can sing me a lullaby, yeah?  [an awkward pause]  uh. i’ll just—talk to you later.

⠀☆⠀10:26 AM

[hesitant]  oh my god. i didn’t—sorry. i should’ve told you i had someone over. i completely forgot about the brunch thing, it’s my fault. kind of a dick move, too, i really am sorry. i don’t know how to.. i’ll buy you dinner, or something. to make it up to you.

[a prolonged pause]

[haltingly]  that—that was just a one-time thing, though. just.. just in case you were wondering. it won’t happen again. 

[another pause, and the sound of him shifting in his place]

so, um. yeah. i just wanted to apologise, ‘cause you were gone before i could get the chance. call me when you hear this? if you want to, that is.

⠀☆⠀00:03 AM

i guess.. i guess you’re busy, or something. sorry. i know it’s late. you’re probably asleep. or working? renjun told me you’re on night shifts now.. did it slip your mind with me? or maybe you’ve told me already, i don’t know. i think my memory’s been getting worse lately.  [a scoffed laugh]  fuck, maybe you’re with—you know. someone else? that’d be fine, obviously, i know we’re not.. yeah. hell, i was the one who said we weren’t gonna be exclusive.

[a pause]

i haven’t been, um. seeing anyone else, though. not since that last time. it’s just you. but if you were, then.. anyway. i heard jeno tell you his friend was single the other day. that jaemin guy? and that restaurant downtown would be nice for a night out, tonight. they do that salad you like, and—and the side dishes. 

[a second pause. he takes a breath in]

i think.. i think i need a drink. text me once you listen to this?

⠀☆⠀11:58 PM

[sounding a little breathless]  hi! i think im going to fill your inbox up at this point. maybe the reception’s bad in the taxi. but anyway—i had fun tonight. again. i.. i missed you, you know?  [a giggle]  wow, i think i feel a little light-headed. in a good way, obviously. i almost forgot what it was like with you. oh! and the actual reason i called—you left your hoodie here. better come grab it soon, or i’ll have it for myself. you can never have too many clothes.  [he stops for a moment]  does that sound too.. ah, nevermind. i hope you get home alright. talk to you tomorrow, baby.

⠀☆⠀10:49 PM

renjun asked me what we were doing. i knew he probably knew—or at least, like, had an idea of what was going on—but it still surprised me. nearly choked on my drink when he sprung it on me out of nowhere. i thought he just wanted to get lunch. i told him the truth—that we’re just.. messing around. he’s not gonna tell any of the others, so don’t worry. he thought—  [a stilted laugh]  he thought that we were together. but.. well. we’re not, obviously.

[a pause. he mumbles something to himself, cuts himself off, then tries again]

did jeno give you jaemin’s number? he had that gross grin on his face the other night, that same one he did when he kept trying to set chenle up on a blind date. and you never did tell me if you were out with him the other night. not that it, like, matters. but still.

[a second, longer pause]

anyway. i think i’m gonna go to bed. can we get dinner soon? i’ll pay.

⠀☆⠀11:18 PM

hey.  [a small pause]  i don’t know why i’m calling, really. i’m just at my apartment. watching reruns and drinking through that wine chenle gave me—which is awful, by the way. i think he was just trying to get it out of his fridge by offloading it onto me.

that movie you told me you watched all the time back in uni was on earlier. i would’ve called then, but my phone was dead, so i kept it on. it was pretty good, actually. kinda.. sappy. but in a good way. romantic, i don’t know. romcoms have never really been my thing, but i know they’re yours, so.. yeah.  [a tired laugh, and a pause. the tv is faintly audible in the background]  i didn’t know i could get wine tipsy this early. maybe that’s why i called out of the blue? ah, i don’t know. i’ll go now, though—this episode’s just starting to get interesting. let’s talk later.

⠀☆⠀01:21 AM

[he’s yelling, almost, struggling to be heard over the beat of the song blasting through the speakers]  yah, why did you dip? i was—i was looking forward to tonight, you know. jeno is boring, and mark is a lightweight, and jisung steps on my feet when we dance. it would’ve been way better with you here. and i miss you, baby. they need to fire the DJ here, because they’re seriously awful. i might just ditch the rest and come find you instead.

[he stops, considering it]

actually.. yeah. you won’t mind, will you? yah, pick up, c’mon. call me back, ‘cause i’m on my way to your apartment. i’ll buy a bottle of malibu on the way so it won’t taste as awful when we throw it up later, and you can set up that speaker chenle got you last year, because i know you probably still have it stuffed in a closet somewhere.  [his voice returns to normal volume, and the music is abruptly significantly quieter]  get your dancing shoes on, baby. and.. take your shirt off?  [he giggles, and his laughter interrupts his goodbye]  i’ll be there soon!

⠀☆⠀02:17 AM

fuck. can’t you just—can you pick up? please? i need it, i need you to hear this. i feel like i’m going insane, it’s fucked up.  [a pause, and a slightly shaky breath]  why did i say that? why did i say no labels? fucking.. fucking mark and shots and that bruise from that fucking counter. i’ve drank too much, and i hope i forget i’ve said this in the morning, but i—i need to know. it’s just you for me. that time with that guy was stupid, and i should’ve kicked him out as soon as i woke up, but i knew about brunch and i knew you’d be coming over and i was feeling petty so i just thought.. i thought you’d get jealous, i don’t know. it was stupid. i’m sorry for lying, baby. i didn’t mean to. is it—is it just me for you too? did you save jaemin’s number? did you text him? please tell me you didn’t. he doesn’t know anything about you, not like i do. i still have your hoodie, and renjun thinks i need to get my shit together, and chenle nearly threw up on my shoes on the way out the bar, and i just.. i want you. i want you so bad, it’s killing me.

[a long pause. his mumbling is inaudible]

call me back when you hear this.

[melis-writes]

Can you please write a au where it’s Victonny and they’re married and not to Michael and Sandra

Vito just got shot and they’re at home with their young sons (ages 1, 2, 3 & 4… c’mon they’re Italian Catholics with no birth control and insatiable for each other!) and their newborn baby daughter.

When there’s banging and whacking at the door and Sonny rushes for his gun and tells her to go off to the kids

———

the kids names: santino jnr (4) angelo (3) rosario (2) amedeo (1) and grazia/graziella (newborn)

The Victonny marriage AU continues, this time during the events of the first film’s action. 👀 That’s a lot of babies… 🥴🥴

Safe as Houses.

“Damn it,” Sonny huffs out in frustration, setting the telephone down after another call to Luca goes unanswered. “Just pick up already.”

“Still nothing?” You step into the dining room, gently holding baby Graziella whose half asleep already in your arms.

“Nothing,” Sonny turns his head to face you; the mounted irritation upon his face almost instantly fading at the sight of his wife and newborn. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll reach Luca soon.”

“Nothing on my end either,” you speak softly so as not to wake little Graziella. “I haven’t heard back from my brothers since earlier tonight.”

“Luca’s shacked up tonight, nothing else to say,” Sonny lets out a drawn out sigh, rising from his seat. “I don’t want you worry ‘bout it, okay? I’m gonna get this shit straightened out,” Sonny rubs baby Graziella’s back softly, noticing how her little feet squirm.

“Mm, alright, darling,” you nod, kissing the top of Graziella’s head. “She’s almost asleep, isn’t that right?”

Sonny chuckles, placing his hand over your waist. “Still a little one, so tiny. How are the kids? They in bed yet?”

“Getting ready for bed, but Amedeo is already asleep,” you say back. “Just gonna tuck in our little angel with the others and—”

Sonny immediately turns his head to the front door at the sound of a loud, banging knock at the door—insistent to go in.

“Aaaaa…” Graziella begins to stir from her sleep, squirming around in your arms.

“Sonny—” Your eyes widen as you take a step back from the door.

“Shit,” Sonny hisses, quickly ushering you back. “Go back into the kids’ bedroom, Vic. Don’t step out until I tell you to, got it?”

Without another word, you quickly scurry to the nursery room while Sonny pulls open a kitchen drawer, snatching out his pistol.

The whacking knocks only grow more aggressive over the door again as Sonny leans his back against the wall.

“Whaddaya want?!” He raises his voice, aiming his gun towards the door.

You lock the nursery door behind you, attempting not to look as alarmed or frantic towards little Santino Jr., Angelo and Rosario playing with their toys and building blocks in the center of the nursery as Amadeo sleeps soundly in his crib.

“Mama!” Santino Jr.’s eyes light up when he sees you.

“Hi, buddy,” you smile weakly at your children—holding Graziella in one arm. “I’m here—let’s play with these over here, hmm? Come on,” you pick up as many of the childrens’ toys as you can from the center of the nursery and move them up to Amadeo’s crib. “Right over here so mama can play too.”

“Maaaaa…” Rosario giggles, crawling towards you.

“Come here, baby,” you snuggle Rosario up in your arms, keeping Angelo and Santino Jr. on your lap. “Let’s play together nice and quietly, okay? See, Graziella and Amadeo are still sleeping. Shhhh…”

You know that if all else fails, you still have the ability to pull out a pistol hidden in one of the nursery dresser’s drawers which your eyes land upon as you can hear Sonny unlocking the front door.

“Calm down, Sonny. It’s just me,” Clemenza holds his hands up, “Jesus.”

“Well your timing is just fuckin’ perfect, isn’t it?” Sonny grits his teeth. “We haven’t even heard back from Luca yet, and what about the old man?”

“I don’t know,” Clemenza swallows hard. “He’s still taking it rough back at the hospital—haven’t heard word since,”

“Wrong answer,” Sonny grabs onto Clemenza’s collar, forcing him back. “Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch. If it ain’t good news, stick to the telephone calls. Our ass is on high alert as is. My wife and kids are here, you got that? I don’t need them seeing this shit.”

“Calm down, Sonny,” Clemenza pushes Sonny’s hands off him. “Okay? Relax, we got this under control. Us and your old man.”

The rest of the conversation Sonny and Clemenza make come out as muffled through the walls and Clemenza’s voice isn’t all that recognizable to you as you quietly distract the children and keep to yourself.

Only a few more moments pass by before your eyes glance to the nursery’s door, seeing the doorknob twist and rattle from being locked. “Vic, it’s me, baby.”

You sigh in relief, carefully rising up with Graziella in your arm before unlocking the nursery door open for Sonny.

“Hey…” Sonny gazes at you, stepping in and seeing the relief washing over your expression. “Everything’s fine, it was just Clemenza talking ‘bout Luca again. Nothing to worry about, remember?”

“But I was worried,” you whisper back, “as soon as I saw you grab that gun.”

“I’ll shoot first and ask questions later if I have to,” Sonny mumbles, rubbing your shoulders. “I just wanna protect you and the kids. You don’t need any more shit—no more stress on your shoulders, not now. I don’t care, I’m keepin’ my word on that.”

“Dada!” Santino Jr. beams, holding up a little toy block in his hand.

“Hey, kiddo,” Sonny cracks a grin, “sharing with all your brothers and sisters, right?”

“Ya!” He nods excitedly.

“See, baby,” Sonny rubs tenderly over your shoulders, kissing your cheek. “Nothin’ to worry about. You know I’d stop at nothing to protect this family,”

“I know, baby,” you blush as baby Graziella gives her father a toothless smile. “I love you for that.”

“And I love you too,” Sonny kisses Graziella’s cheek before pecking a sweet kiss over your lips.