#and now they’re probs never coming back around here

[psychoticwillgraham]

starset come the fuck back to st louis challenge

[supernovafics]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k words

warnings: explicit language, some mentions of alcohol, parent drama (both reader’s and steve’s parents suck)

summary: in which your parents and steve’s come over for dinner 

author's note: this has absolutely nothing to do with the harry styles song but the title of it is just very fitting so yeah<33 i’ve been rewatching a lot of gilmore girls this fall season so i feel like that's helped me get the hang of writing awkward/tense dinners with family lol so this needed to be done

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Fall 1985

When your and Steve’s parents first suggested this “early Thanksgiving dinner,” you thought that it wouldn’t actually happen. 

The initial idea sounded pretty funny to you— your parents and Steve’s parents would have a full on dinner at your apartment a week before the actual holiday. Yeah, right.

It sounded like the kind of idea that parents that really cared about spending time with their children would have, and that wasn’t how you’d necessarily describe yours or Steve’s. 

A month ago, when they told you about the ski trip the four of them were going on during the entire week of Thanksgiving, you expected to just not see them probably until Christmas— and that felt like a bit of relief to you because spending time with your parents wasn’t your favorite hobby.  

But then you remembered how, only during the holidays, your parents always had a need to show, or maybe more so “prove” to themselves, that they actually cared about you. So, of course, they wouldn’t let this stupid holiday go, and instead they thought that it would be best if you all did something early and together. 

And sadly, none of the immediate excuses that you and Steve came up with worked because your moms had solutions for everything.

When you told yours that the kitchen in the apartment was too small to cook for this kind of elaborate dinner, she simply told you that they’d buy and bring all of the food and you and Steve wouldn’t have to cook at all. She also not-so-jokingly mentioned that she would’ve never trusted either of you two cooking anyway.

And when Steve told his mom that the current dining table you two had was way too small to fit all six of you, she promptly had one ordered and delivered to your door in just a week. It was an expensive dark wood set that could comfortably fit six people, and you and Steve spent hours struggling to build it the day it showed up at your front door. It took up an obscene amount of space, but it did actually look kind of nice.

Now it was weeks later and the dreaded night was finally here, but you still tried to come up with any way to avoid it from happening. 

“And we’re sure that we really can’t get out of doing this tonight?” You asked Steve as you folded the blanket that was lying half-hazardly on the couch. “I could call my mom and say that we’ve somehow fallen tragically ill in the last hour?”

“I’m ninety-five percent sure that they’re all already on their way.”

“Shit.”

“It’ll be fine,” Steve said, and then he considered his words. “Actually, it will probably suck, but overall, we will be fine.” 

You let out a sigh and placed the now folded blanket back on the couch and then started cleaning off the coffee table, stacking the random magazines in a neat pile and then adjusting Harold’s cage so that it was nicely in the center. Your and Steve’s shared pet hamster was currently nibbling on the food that you had put in his bowl only moments ago. 

An abrupt feeling of worry shot through you as you looked around the apartment. The place was clean— probably the cleanest it had ever been— since you and Steve had spent the day doing everything to avoid either of your parents saying anything bad about the place. However, in the grand scheme of things, you knew that it didn’t matter because they’d still hate the apartment. They would hate how you two decided to furnish and decorate it, and they would passive aggressively make fun of the place for however long this dinner would have to be.

“Let’s try not to think about how bad this night is gonna be and just be glad that we’re not gonna have to suffer alone, like usual,” Steve said, practically reading your mind and the look on your face, as he started setting plates out on the new table. 

He was completely right. This was the first time that a collective Thanksgiving was happening among all of you. Usually, it was just you alone with your parents in Chicago visiting family members that you never talked to, and Steve was doing the same exact thing except he was in Indianapolis. You’d always end up calling each other at the end of the night from the hotel or family house you were staying at, and you’d tell each other stories about whatever weird family members you encountered or how boring it all was. 

It did make things feel a bit better that, for once, you didn’t have to go through this alone and neither did Steve.

“You’re right,” You said with a nod and then smiled. “We’ll be going through this shitshow together.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and since Steve was closer he went to answer it. You took one brief and final look around the apartment before heading toward the door too, so Steve didn’t have to be by himself in this greeting.

“Hi,” He said when he opened the door and saw all of your parents standing there. There was a bright smile on his face and he effortlessly turned on that “Steve Harrington charm” that people had adored in high school— you hadn’t even gone to the same high school as him, but you still heard so many of the stories.

A chorus of Hi’s and Hello’s were heard as your moms entered the apartment first since they were carrying all of the food and your dads followed in right behind them.

“I still hate that you moved into a place that doesn’t have a front doorman, or, at least, a buzzer system,” Were your dad’s first words to you; deciding against saying the simple “How are you?” that you had expected. “You two should get a better lock on your door.”

You laughed a bit. “We live in Hawkins, not New York, Dad. I don’t think anyone is really itching to rob us anytime soon.” 

“Anything can happen,” He responded, looking at you seriously. “I’ll bring you a new one when we get back from Colorado.”

You only nodded at his words instead of saying anything to rebut them; you knew that he overall meant well. “Okay.”

Your attention turned to your mom and she pulled you into a hug that felt way too forced before pulling away and giving you a quick onceover. “Oh… Is that what you’re wearing?”

You thought that your outfit was fine; a V-neck navy blue knit sweater that was a bit cropped and a simple pair of black jeans. But, your mom always managed to find something wrong with everything, so this reaction to your current outfit didn’t necessarily surprise you; it did still annoy you all the same, though.

“Oh, um, no I was just about to change,” You told her and forced a small smile.

She nodded at that. “Okay, that’s good, that’s good. You go change while Christine and I get the table set up.”

You started heading toward your room but looked back at Steve first. He was in a conversation with his parents that looked like they were doing much more of the talking than him. As if sensing your gaze on him, his eyes met yours and he gave you a hopeful look and that was enough to make you feel a little better.

It didn’t take long for you to change. You kept your sweater on but traded your jeans for the long black silk skirt that your mom had always liked on you. You hoped this slightly different outfit would be enough to satisfy her, and if not, you were willing to suffer through her inevitable look of disappointment. 

You lingered in your room, tidying up your desk for no particular reason and then deciding to remake your bed. It was clear that you were stalling, avoiding having to face your parents again, and as much as you wanted to continue doing that, you also didn’t want to leave Steve to fend for himself. You were supposed to be suffering together, after all. 

You immediately noticed the dining table when you walked out of your bedroom. The food was now nicely set out and there were even brown placemats sitting underneath the plates that Steve had already set out. It was all set up in a way that would’ve felt nice and wholesome if either of your families had ever remotely felt like the ones portrayed in most TV shows or movies. But, they weren’t anywhere close to being like that, so this all just felt weirdly forced.

Of course, you didn’t say that, though.

Instead, you sat down with everyone at the table and desperately hoped that the next few hours of your life would breeze by. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“From the brochure, the pictures of the cabin look really great. We hope it actually looks that way in person,” Steve’s mom, Christine, said. 

You took another bite of the mac and cheese on your plate as you continued to listen to your parents talk about their ski trip that was happening next week, which they had been doing for the last twenty minutes and you fully didn’t mind it. Since the conversation wasn’t centered on either you or Steve, things actually didn’t feel tense or nervewracking. If you could just make your parents talk about themselves during the entire dinner, you would probably end the night with a smile on your face. 

“Oh, and there are a lot of bedrooms too,” Your mom chimed in before taking another sip from the wine glass in her hand. “Maybe you two could take a trip up there soon and invite your friends to go too.” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” You said with a small nod.

“Enough talking about the trip, though, that’s probably so boring for your kids to hear about,” Your dad said, and you internally sighed because you knew the exact direction the conversation was about to go in. You felt him look at you. “How’s school been going? The semester is almost over.”

“It’s been good,” You answered, keeping your response short and sweet. You decided not to mention that you really couldn’t care less about the majority of your classes because none of what you were doing in any of them felt like it really mattered. 

“Okay, and your grades and everything are fine, right?”

You only nodded in response to his question, hoping that your lack of actual words would signal to him that you wanted to bring an end to this topic of conversation. Of course, that was only wishful thinking.

“That’s good,” Your mom said. “You have to make sure your grades stay like how they were in high school, or even better, for when you transfer to the University of Chicago. We don’t want to have any reason for them not to accept you again.” 

You suddenly felt like you were right back in middle school and high school, where your conversations with your parents solely revolved around school; what your grades were, if you were doing your homework and completing assignments on time, and studying for tests. It always annoyed you that the only times they would bother to pay attention to you was when it came to that stuff. Other than that, you were always seemingly an afterthought, never a bigger priority than their jobs. 

In a way, this entire conversation should’ve been expected; it was always inevitable. Pretty much anytime you talked to your parents in recent months, the discussion always seemed to circle its way back to that school and you going there in two years instead of right now, like they had wanted you to.

“I’m still so surprised that you decided to not go to the University of Chicago now,” Christine said and you turned your attention to her. It was starting to feel a bit painful to you that the subject still hadn’t changed yet. “When Steve told me that you were going to go to the community college close by, I couldn’t believe it, honestly.”

You noticed your parents share a look upon hearing her words. The mix of disappointment and annoyance toward you that was shared between them in that moment felt palpable. 

“I didn’t think it was time to leave Indiana just yet. I’ll be going soon, though,” You said, keeping your voice light and plastering on a fake smile, even though all you wanted to do in that moment was leave the table and hideout in your bathroom for the rest of the night. 

You saw your dad smile a little and then you also noticed the look of relief wash over your mom’s face. For some stupid reason, you still felt the need to make them feel pleased with you. And somehow that made you feel even more upset with yourself than anything they had said to you so far tonight. 

The only thing that managed to make things feel remotely tolerable right then was Steve sitting across from you, giving you a look that said, “Everything will be okay.” For the time being, you chose to believe him and you simply took another bite of your food. 

You were about to say something about how good the turkey was so your moms would start talking about the restaurant they got all of the food from and why they chose it— you were sure that there was some story behind it all— and that would finally bring an end to the college conversation. But, before a word could leave your mouth, Steve’s dad began speaking. 

“Well, at least, you’re in college. We can’t say the same for Steve here.” He then looked at his son. “Do you really want to work at a video store for the rest of your life?”

 Christine let out a sigh. “Jeff.”

“What?” He shrugged as if his previous question wasn’t completely condescending. “I’m just asking a question.”

“I’m actually starting at the community college next semester,” Steve told his parents and you tried to hide your immediate confusion. “I found out I got in a few days ago.”

“Well, that’s great,” Christine said happily, and Jeff smiled approvingly as well. 

You had no idea Steve had gotten in or even applied, and you wondered if he was lying right then to just get his parents off his back, but you couldn’t tell. Something about the way he said it honestly felt pretty real. The only part that didn’t feel real was that you were finding out during this dumb dinner instead of at any other time. 

“So, I was wondering,” Your mom began and you braced yourself for the impact of whatever she was going to say. “Why did you two decide to get a hamster? I feel like it makes things smell a bit funny in here…”

A part of you was glad that the conversation finally shifted away from college. But you didn’t think that the passive aggressive comments toward the apartment would begin with Harold. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Well, this night was fucking brutal.”

You let out a sigh. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”

Steve was doing the dishes as you put what was left of the food into tupperwares and then put them in the fridge. Surprisingly, it was a lot of stuff leftover; your moms definitely went overboard with the amount they had ordered. You and Steve already made plans to invite Robin and Eddie over tomorrow to have some of these leftovers.

“I’m actually glad that the dessert tasted bad since it made them want to leave early.”

“It was honestly a bit bittersweet because I was kind of excited for that pie,” You said as you placed the final tupperware of food into the fridge and then went over to Steve. “Oh, and also,” You punched his arm and ignored his immediate “ouch.” “Why the hell didn’t you tell me that the stars have finally managed to align and we’ll finally be going to the same school for the first time ever?”

He smiled a little at your dramatics. “I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it just in case I somehow didn’t end up getting in. I swear I was gonna tell you tomorrow.”

“So, you did all of that annoying application stuff by yourself?”

“Robin helped me with it.”

“I would’ve been happy to help you,” You told him, and maybe you were being a bit overdramatic, but you actually felt slightly offended that he hadn’t wanted to come to you about this. 

The possibility of you two going to the same middle or high school was a far out idea that never happened because you lived in different towns. But, it was still something that was adamantly and wistfully talked about by you and him; how much more fun both of your school lives could be if they intersected in that way like the other parts of your lives did. 

Of course, going to the same college would’ve been the most obvious way for it to finally happen, but Steve never seemed that interested in going to college, and up until the last possible second you were being pushed toward Chicago by your parents. 

But now things were finally different.

“I know that you would’ve, but I didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, honestly. Robin saw me working on the application one day and decided to help,” He explained and you only gave him a small nod in response. “I didn’t even think I’d tell my parents about it, but when I heard my dad’s dumb comment about Family Video I felt like I had to say it so he wouldn’t keep looking at me like a disappointment.” He sighed. “And it’s kinda fucked up… I really don’t wanna care what my parents think about me and what I’m doing with my life, but I think there will always be a part of me that does.”

You thought back to your dad’s approving smile and your mom’s relieved look when you reassured them that you still planned to go to the University of Chicago; how much you still wanted to make them feel at least a little proud of you even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“Me too,” You said softly. 

“I’m glad we probably won’t have to see them again until Christmas.”

You sighed. “Apparently, my dad is gonna bring us a new lock for the door when they get back from their trip.”

“Oh,” Steve said and then smiled at you when it looked like he thought of something. “Okay, what are the odds that he’ll just send someone to put the new lock on the door instead of coming himself?”

You thought about it for a second. “Honestly, I’d say there’s a pretty good chance that would happen. He’ll probably be too busy with work after the trip to actually come and do it himself.”

“Okay, let’s hope for that,” He said as he finished washing the last plate and placed it on the drying rack. “So, since the dessert was a bust tonight, do you wanna go to the diner? I’m sure Mary would never fuck up her apple pie. And then when we get back, we can finish that bottle of wine that our moms left.”

You smiled at his suggestion. “You have a brilliant mind, Harrington.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[luvxxriki]

Please do when niki feels like his sisters are stealing you from him and he starts beginning jealous please please😭😭

NO PLEASE I LOVE THIS IDEA.

pairing - riki x fem!reader (ft. konon and misora)

genre - fluff, established relationship

warnings (but not really) - jealousy, riki has an attitude, kissing, reader calls riki 'Ki'

wc - 481

notes - ILY FOR THIS. probs my fav req ive gotten🫡 hope you like it!🫶🩷

“Wait, try this one!” Misora laughed, handing you another one of Konons eyeshadows. You put it on over the other make up you were already wearing.

“Wow, it looks good! You should keep it!” Konon complimented you and took a few pictures of the three of you on her bedroom floor, with all of her makeup spread around you. 

“Really?!” You smiled. You loved the color, and the fact that she was letting you keep it? Treating other people well really ran in the family.

“Of course! I never wore it anyways” 

“That's cuz it didn’t look good on you” Misora teased, which earned her a light smack on the head from Konon.

The three of you were so busy talking and laughing that you didn’t even hear your phone ringing beside you.

“Konon, have you seen yn? She said she would be here like a half hour ago- oh” He stopped mid sentence when he saw you sitting on his sisters bedroom floor, laughing like his sisters were the funniest people on earth. 

“Oh, you’re back!” You smiled at him. He didn’t return it, and just said “Yea” and walked off to his bedroom.

“Oooh, someones jealous,” Misora laughed.

“Go get your man, I don’t wanna deal with him being cranky later because he ‘barely got to see you’” Konon waved you off and you sighed. “You don’t wanna deal with him? He’s probably not gonna let me have any of the snacks he got!”

You walked out of her room and knocked on Rikis door.

“Ki? Lemme in” 

“No, go with Konon and Misora” 

You immediately walked in and sat near him on his bed, laying your head on his lap and looking up at him.

“Are you jealous?” You asked, with a bit of mischief laced in your tone.

“No…” He looked away from you. You smiled and sat up to make him look at you.

“Whyyy? I was just waiting for you to come back from the store so they let me hang out with them!”

“You could’ve come with me!” He finally looked back at your eyes and sulked.

“You left before I even got here!” You hit his shoulder. 

“Fine. But even lately you’re always hanging out with them, I feel like they’re stealing you!” He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Nuh uh! They could never steal me” You kissed the top of his head.

“Really? So you'll hang out with me more than them?”

“I think I have to”

“Have to?! I thought you liked being with me” “I know, it was a joke” You smiled and cupped his cheeks. You kissed his lips gently, just to show him how much you really like being with him.

“Now are you gonna stop being jealous?”

“Do that again and I will”

[sunlightmurdock]

Blow by Blow | 1.1 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

synopsis: Bradley’s washed up before his career has even really begun. He doesn’t want to fill his father’s shoes and he doesn’t want someone else to either. Stuck in limbo, living the same way he always has, the opportunity to step up wanders through the door of his gym in a mini dress and heels that are a size too big. Boxing au.

Warnings: unspecified age gap, violence, probs boxing inaccuracies somewhere along the line, blood and injuries throughout the fic but will be specified in the warnings of the chapter. Smut and other 18+ content, minors dni, insinuated grooming but nothing graphic (skip the italics to avoid), the return of an abusive ex, smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected pinv

…

Nothing about Tony DeLuca running into Bradley was accidental. Nothing about Bradley winning his first six months of fights was by chance.

Word spread quickly that Maverick was refusing to train, afraid that he would put the poor kid in an early grave like he had to his old man. Poor Bradley didn’t have a clue. As far as he knew, his trusty old uncle just didn’t have the time of day for him anymore.

The kid lived and breathed boxing — and he was good at it too. He didn’t need a backup plan. He was easy to get on board. The promise of quick cash and glory had him hooked on the very first day.

Now, six months in, he really considers the people at Darkstar to be his friends. They’re kind to him because Tony tells them to be.

“This place gives me the fucking creeps.” Natasha mumbles quietly as she pencils in the answers to her geometry homework. Bradley doesn’t answer but that isn’t unusual these days. He’s either on top of the world or he’s furious. It’s hard to keep up with which is which. “Don’t you get weirded out about the people staring at us?”

People stare at Bradshaw’s too, but not the same as it is here. At Bradshaw’s, it’s amusement and surprise to see kids running around the place or training in the ring. It’s not like that here.

Still waiting for a response, she glances up. Bradley’s not looking at her. His head is craned so far around that it’s starting to look unnatural. She furrows her brows slightly and leans to the side so that she can follow his gaze.

“Huh?” Bradley mumbles without looking back at her.

She finally spots what he’s looking at. The tall blonde standing behind Tony, looking at Bradley like he might as well be made out of diamonds. Natasha frowns as she looks the woman over. Natasha knows Emilia. Tony’s wife is around every now and again, but she doesn’t make a habit of coming by the gym too often. Natasha knows that Emilia is too young and pretty for the man that she married, but she still doesn’t like the way that the woman is looking at her friend.

Natasha swings her boot into Bradley’s bare shin. Finally, she has his attention. He frowns at her incredulously, still youthful features contorting into a scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I think that we should go.” Natasha speaks quietly, feeling eyes on her still from various men around the gym. She has known from day one that this wasn’t a safe place for her, but she came because Bradley needed her too. Now, it occurs to her that it has never been safe for him either.

“I told Tony I’d stay and help him set up for his poker game. Why? — What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that woman is looking at you like you’re her next meal.” Natasha whispers, speaking through gritted teeth. Bradley’s lips quirk softly, his heart soaring a the fact that someone else noticed it.

“Yeah, she’s just looking,” Bradley glances back over there and shrugs his shoulders. He looks calmly back to Natasha. “It’s fine, she’s like that with everyone.”

It’s all over his face, though, that he likes the attention. He’s blushing even as he talks to her, a deep pink spreading over his cheeks and down his neck, under the oversized hoodie that he’s wearing.

“Even high-schoolers?” Natasha challenges, her tone cold. She hopes that it will wake Bradley up to what’s right in front of him, but he just shrugs again. He looks down at his homework and pretends to be focusing on it. Natasha looks back over to Emilia. Emilia meets her gaze with no shame, lips quirked at the sides.

“Fuck this place, I’m going home.”

“I fight in, like two hours! — We can’t leave.” Bradley frowns, grabbing her wrist as his best friend pushes herself up from the ground. Natasha stares down at him, completely serious.

“Promise me that you’ll stay away from her.” Natasha says softly.

“Why? — Her husband doesn’t make her happy, she told me so.” The response is immediate and confirms every fear that Natasha has in her head. She stomps her shoe into the concrete floor below them.

“Oh my god, Bradley, you’re so stupid!” Natasha groans, rolling her eyes as she picks her backpack up from the ground. She’s tired of this. Of sneaking out of her room once a month and getting dragged to the other side of the harbour to sit here on the ground and wait for Bradley to win a fight. Of Bradley never even thanking her for what she’s doing for him. He doesn’t see it.

Bradley stares at her, wounded. He and Natasha are frequently annoying to one another, but it’s always a joke. Now, she really does think that he’s stupid. He isn’t stupid. He turns his face away from her.

“Fuck off, Nat. Walk yourself home, if I’m so dumb.”

“Fine!” She bites back.

“Fine.” Bradley mumbles defeatedly as his gaze lands on the homework in front of him. He makes every effort not to look as his best friend leaves him there. He doesn’t get it, a lot of the time — the reason why people don’t like him. Maverick, he’s so tense around Bradley recently that they barely talk. Jake from the junior circuit, he’s had it out for Bradley since they met. Now, Nat.

Still focused on the lined page in front of him, he takes time to read the question and realizes that he definitely had gotten question three wrong. He sits forwards to pencil the correct answer in as the metal door swings shut behind Natasha with an embarrassingly loud clang.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek and exhales slowly. He has only known Natasha for a year and a half, but she’s the best friend that he has ever had. Even if she’s a little mean to him sometimes.

“Was that your girlfriend, sweetie?” The voice is accompanied immediately by gentle touch, slender fingers gliding through Bradley’s loose curls as they’re stroked back off of his forehead. Bradley looks up at Emilia.

“No. She’s my friend.” Or she was, he isn’t sure.

“She’s pretty.” Emilia comments, fingers still carding through Bradley’s hair. It’s long and falls into his brown eyes, he’s practically hiding behind it as she looks over his face. “You would be cute together.”

Bradley gives a slow shake of his head, barely moving, afraid that she will withdraw her hand if he does. “It’s not like that.”

“Well, I hope it doesn’t put you off your game tonight. It’s a big one, Tony’s so excited for you.” Emilia explains, sliding her fingers away from Bradley’s soft curls and cascading them along his smooth cheek. He leans away from her touch just slightly out of instinct.

“I’ll be fine.” He says quietly, swinging his homework book closed and shoving it towards his backpack. He sits up a little straighter and squares his shoulders.

Emilia’s scarlet-coloured lips tilt upwards at the corners as she watches him intently. Bradley squirms under her gaze, dropping his eyes down to look at the floor instead.

“Mind if I sit with you for a bit, Bradley?” She asks tenderly, stroking her thumb along the curve of his chin. He swallows softly to make sure that his voice isn’t going to crack when he speaks.

“Sure.”

Natasha watches Bradley now, working with a client who’s around seventeen, still fighting in the junior circuit. She doesn’t ever remember thinking that they looked that young when they were that age. Rounded cheeks, smooth skin where there will one day be stubble. She glances back to Bradley and frowns slightly.

His cheeks, chin and his neck now littered with scars, he looks a little older than she does but he always has. She does her best to think back to what he looked like back then, before the scars and before that stupid mustache.

She can’t quite picture it right anymore, but she knows that the kid he’s sparring with looks like a kid. Now that Nat’s all grown up, she knows the difference. Just like Emilia did.

“Morning!”

You round the corner with Tank in tow, smiling softly. Natasha turns her head and gives you a quick and polite smile. She has already heard by now that Bradley stayed over at your place again this weekend. It’s a shame really, she should be rooting for the two of you. You would be good for him.

But Natasha’s efforts at protecting Bradley have always fallen short. She’s doing better at keeping you safe, and Bradley wouldn’t be good for you. Her priority remains the same.

You glance quickly towards the ring as Bradley swings his glove into his opponent’s abdomen. The younger boy grunts and doubles over. Bradley groans and leans his head back, “Come on, man — does the word defence mean anything to you?”

“Morning,” Natasha smiles. She leans her head into yours as you hug her gently, tucking your arms around her shoulders. You settle as your attention is pulled away from Rooster. “Did you want to go down to the beach or something today? — I could do with getting out of here.”

Your face immediately lights up, lips parting in surprise. “Oh, Nix — I wish I could, Jake wants me training all morning. We could maybe go this afternoon?”

She nods as she lets you go, watching you glance quickly towards the ring again. Your gaze lingers for a second too long before it’s back on her. “Yeah. This afternoon. How are you feeling about your fight tomorrow?”

Bradley rolls his eyes as the kid in front of him trips again. He catches sight of Maverick watching him through the office blinds and straightens up. Maybe he isn’t the best teacher, but Mav was never any better. Mav has always expected more from Bradley than he had from himself. They’ve both disappointed each other plenty already.

The track over the speakers switches to something with a stronger tempo. He turns his attention back to the client and nods for them to continue. The boy sighs and wipes sweat from his forehead.

“Kind of scared.” You admit, brushing your hair back away from your face as your gaze turns back towards Rooster to make sure that he hadn’t overheard you. He hadn’t; too busy barking orders at the teenager in the ring.

Natasha doesn’t really understand. She hasn’t felt afraid for a fight since she was eleven. But she nods anyway, sympathetic as the two of you talk ringside.

It’s all too easy. Natasha nodding empathetically as she listens to your worries. Jake encouraging you through your morning training. Rooster leaving early for a morning appointment so you don’t have to feel him watching you train. Then, an afternoon spent on the beach with Natasha and Mickey.

You wave goodbye to them both outside Mickey’s apartment, only letting them drive you back that far and insisting that you’ll be fine walking the rest of the way. That was your first mistake. You spot him, at first, out of the corner of your eye. Just a shadow in your peripheral.

Without having to turn your head, you know that it’s him. His head turns as you cross the parking lot of a grocery store, hoping to be able to rush right past him without him recognising you. That’s stupid. Of course he’ll recognise you. He’s been actively looking for you.

Jett turns as he calls out your name. You keep walking, stumbling as you try to pick up the pace.

“Babe, babe, slow down.” He jogs to catch up to you, you can hear the soles of his vans hitting along the parking lot as he nears you. Your fingers fumble for your house key, wondering silently why you hadn’t just let Mickey drive you. You slot the keys between your fingers and continue walking, not daring to look back. He calls your name behind you. “Can you just wait for me? — Baby, I need to talk to you.”

Numbness spreads through your limbs like a chill, even with the lingering afternoon heat. You try to keep up your pace, moving as quickly as your trembling legs will carry you.

It feels so wrong to hear him call you that, his voice hangs around in the air like it’s waiting there to suffocate you. You should have brought Tank, or Rooster — no, Rooster being here would be a bad thing. But god, you’d feel better if he was.

His fingers curl around your wrist, icy and rigid as he tugs you back. You pull against him and try not to turn, but you know that having your back to him is even worse than having to look him in the eye. You turn towards him, the cold of his skin spreading up your arm and through your body when you finally meet his gaze.

“Where are you running off to, baby?” Immediately, his free hand reaches for your face. Your reaction settles somewhere between a flinch and a recoil, tripping over the curb behind you as you move to take a step back. His fingers curling tighter around your wrist is an all too familiar feeling, and so is the nausea that follows it.

“My friends are waiting for me.” You answer, knowing that your trembling voice gives you away. You watch his face change, it’s a brief split-second kind of thing, but you know the cues. He hates when you act afraid of him. It only irritates him more.

“Oh yeah, your new buddies over at the gym.” Jett chuckles. You’ve got better control over your reactions than he does, so he doesn’t notice how much of a punch to the gut this is. That he knows where you are, and where you’ve been this entire time.

“Yeah.” You try to sound calm. There’s probably someone still there, maybe Maverick. Fuck, you hope that he’s still there.

“Baby,” Jett tries to close the gap between you as you stumble for footing, backing away as much as his iron-tight grip on your wrist will let you. His voice is so gentle and he’s smiling at you like he would never hurt you again. You’ve been here before. “Can we not do this? — I know that last argument sucked, but come on, we’ve been through worse. We can just talk it out.”

You shake your head softly, brows scrunching. “No.”

Jett reaches for your face again and this time curls his fingers around the nape of your neck to stop you from pulling away. As he brings himself closer, the nausea consumes you. His smell, the look on his face, his fingers on your skin.

“Please let go.” You squeak out, voice strained as you will yourself not to cry in front of him. That has always made things worse. Jett’s brows scrunch together slightly. He doesn’t get it. He still doesn’t understand what it is that makes you pull away from his touch like this is.

He strokes his thumb along the nape of your neck and a sob catches in your throat. Closing your eyes, you swallow the sound and try to pull back.

“Please, tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“Nothing. It’s over, I left. So, let me go.”

“Yeah, you blocked my number,” Jett’s palm remains on the back of your neck, curling tighter around it, keeping you close to him. You stare right ahead of you, at the store, willing someone to just come out and see him, breathing through your nose. “You fucking embarassed me, everyone’s been asking me where you went!”

The sky is calm overhead and a tightness in your throat that only grows as the sole of his hightop inches closer to you across the asphalt. You swallow softly and square out your shoulders. The closer he is to you, the more that your heartbeat thuds in your ears.

“I’m done being your doormat.” Your voice is quieter than you intended, it undermines the message you’re trying to get through. Your gaze remains on his shoes as he takes another step forwards, primarily focusing on the spot of blood on the lace. You know that it’s yours.

“Oh yeah?” You can hear it in his voice that he’s got a grin on his face. Goosebumps erupt across your arms, chest tightening as he draws closer across the asphalt again. You can’t bring yourself to look at that smile on his face. “You’re tough now?”

You close your eyes all together, turning your face away. The smell of his cologne tells you that he’s getting closer. Your legs are frozen, staying exactly where they are. You couldn’t move them if you tried.

“Are you alright, miss?” The voice calls out from across the parking lot and Jett drops your wrist immediately. You barely give your eyes time to open before you turn on the heel of your shoe and sprint.

Running until your lungs feel like they’re going to give out and beyond that. Tears burn your cheeks as you race up the steps to the apartment, instinct forces the key into the lock on the first try and you slam it shut behind you, locking it again. You fall to the floor, back pressed to the door, sobs wracking your body.

You’re grateful for your new friends. You adore the ways that each of them care for you and let you care for them. Helping Mav with his phone. Letting Mickey ramble to you for hours about why the Star Wars sequels were done badly. Helping Natasha with her client schedule.

You adore each of them. But you should have listened to Rooster. You weren’t ready for this, you’ll probably never be good enough to do what they do and today provided with a reality check about all of that. You weren’t ready for this — all it took was a tiny knock from Jett and you crumpled like paper.

Laying on your floor until the tears stop soaking Tank’s fur, you lay there with him until you’re certain that you’re done. Then, you wash your face and change into your pyjamas, curling up on the couch with a blanket over your legs and Tank settled in against your side. He always seems to be extra snuggly when you’re sad.

An hour of peace passes, your tear-induced headache starts to fade and you find your eyelids growing heavier as the TV show that you’re watching nears the end of its first season. You think back to the text you had sent Jake in the middle of your hysterics, telling him that you’re sorry and that there’s no way you can fight tomorrow. You glance down at your dark phone screen, secure in your decision to have switched it off earlier.

Weight hits the outside of the door and keys fumble for the lock. You pinch the bridge of your nose and will yourself not to start crying out of frustration. You know exactly what’s coming next, and you aren’t in the mood for it. In fact, you’re just about in the mood to kill Bradley.

The lock clicks open in compliance and he comes stumbling through the front door. From his usual spot on the couch, you glare at him as he finds his balance by bracing himself against the door handle.

He’s soaked, white t-shirt clinging to his skin and see through, jeans dripping onto your floor, curls swept back messily off of his face. Rooster takes a second to look you over. Sitting cross-legged on the couch in your pyjamas, tear stained cheeks. He draws his own conclusion about what’s happening with the fight.

Swinging the door shut behind him, not noticing the way you flinch with its slam, he reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and peels it up. “Hate to say I told you so, but—“

“Get out.”

His brows furrow as he holds his soaking wet t-shirt balled up in his hand. The droplets of rain slide along his soaked skin, dripping onto your floors as he smiles breathlessly, “Come on, I’m just messing with—“

“Get the fuck out of my apartment. Sleep downstairs, sleep in your car — I don’t fucking care, just get out!” Your fingers curl into the throw pillow at your side, plush under your fingertips. It’s soft, but your aim never falters. He just about catches it as it hits him in the chest.

Rooster raises his brows, holding the little pink throw pillow against his bare chest, having dropped his shirt to the floor now. He looks you over again. No bruises, no cuts. Nothing.

“What happened?” He takes a couple of steps forwards, features creasing into something that resembles concern but knowing him and his emotional capacity, probably isn’t. He approaches you cautiously, well aware of the several objects nearby that you could also turn into projectiles if you wanted to.

“Can you just leave, please? — You’re the last person I want to see right now.” You whimper, throwing yourself back against the couch cushions and pulling your knees up to your chest. Bradley still tries to lighten the mood.

“But you always let me sleep over.” He frowns.

“Exactly! — And you’re always still an asshole,” Your fingers curl into another throw pillow. Tank looks at Rooster, unfazed and his head still in your lap. Rooster drops the first pillow in preparation for the second. “So, what’s the point in being nice?”

The second throw pillow slips past his open hands, hitting him in the stomach and falling to the ground. Even more confused now, Rooster doesn’t slow his cautious steps towards you.

“I am so sick,” You rush out, voice raised, fists clenched, staring right at him. “Of asshole guys treating me however the fuck they want! So, get the fuck out!”

Finally, Bradley stops walking towards you. About four feet away, he raises his hands in defense and his face softens. Dropping his hands black down to his sides, he remains stationary in the middle of your apartment, just looking you over.

“So, you’re not doing the fight?” He asks calmly.

You turn and roll onto your stomach, pressing your face into a throw pillow. You refuse to let another man see you cry today. Your response comes muffled, barely audible on account of how hard you’ve squashed your face into the pillow. “Leave me alone.”

Bradley glances at Tank at your feet and takes a cautious step forwards. Having your back as always, Tank’s low growl is enough to warn Bradley not to come any closer.

“Bambi,” Rooster says softly. If he could get closer, he’d rub your back and tell you that it’s alright. “Come on. Whatever happened, y’know, whatever freaked you out — it’s natural. Everyone gets scared before their first fight.”

Your response comes out muffled again, even harder to understand this time because of the tremble to your voice.

“What?” Bradley frowns.

“I ran into Jett today.” You answer into the pillow. This time Rooster carries himself forwards and your dog doesn’t bother him. He smooths his hand gently along your back.

“What did he say? — You want me to do something?”

You turn your head to look at Bradley, then scrunch your brows softly. Tears trail along your already wet face as you study the sincerity on his features. You’ve never had someone offer to beat up an ex for you before. You shake your head softly.

Rooster reaches out and strokes his thumb gently along the back of your shoulder, onto the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry that happened. If you see him again, I want you to call me.” He lifts his hand slowly, to not startle you, wiping the salty tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want to call you,” You mumble out, turning your face into the pillow again. Rooster’s brows furrow softly. “I want to not be scared of him anymore. I’m—“ You pause to swallow a sob as Rooster sits forwards and kisses your bicep softly. “It’s stupid. I thought that I was getting over it, and then I saw him, and all of it went out the window. I can’t fight someone when I couldn’t even tell him to get his hands off of me today.”

“He touched you?” Bradley’s features tighten. You simply groan into the pillow in response, then shake your head. “Bambi. I want answers here.”

“Can you and your saviour complex go somewhere else? — I’d like to be alone, please.” You hug the pillow closer and exhale heavily into its fluffy exterior. Bradley frowns, he sits back on his heels and just watches you for a few moments. Shooting a quick glance to the weather outside, and the way you’re so clearly going to spend an entire night crying if he leaves, he has already decided that he’s staying.

Bradley looks you over and smooths his hand over your shoulder blades. “Alright, get up.”

“Absolutely not.” You groan, hugging the pillow tighter and turning onto your side so that you are tucked in against the back of the couch, facing away from him.

“Up.” He grabs hold of your ankle and tugs.

The next fifteen minutes are back and forth, bickering between the two of you, him tugging at your limbs and you threatening to hit him with them. You scowl as you pad barefoot through the gym behind him, arms folded over your chest. It’s freezing down here at night time.

“What are we doing?” You complain as he flicks on half of the overhead lights and trips the overnight alarm so that no one will bother you whilst you’re down here. Bradley walks ahead of you wearing socks and his jeans, his soaked shirt and shoes still upstairs on your floor.

“You’re right. I’m not gonna be there all the time,” Bradley calls back to you. You stop walking and stare at the back of him, wondering if that’s really what he had taken away from your talk upstairs. “If you want to feel like you can handle yourself then you’ve got to stop training like such a little bitch.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re training with Jake, I’ve seen you — you barely hit each other.”

“So, you brought me downstairs to hit me?” You raise your eyebrows as he pulls himself up into the ring. He rolls his eyes and leans his forearms against the ropes.

“No, I brought you down here to let you hit me. Knowing that you can hit someone and hit them hard is like the first part of being confident in the ring.” He looks you over, standing by the weights in your pyjamas with your arms folded over your chest. You follow his gaze and realize that you definitely should have put on a bra. It hadn’t seemed like much of a priority when he was dragging you off of your sofa by your legs.

Bradley glances down at the wet denim clinging to his thighs and goes for the button on his jeans immediately.

“If you take your pants off, I’m leaving.” You warn him. Bradley’s lips quirk softly as he continues to tug his zipper down. He rolls his shoulders back, the muscles in his arms contracting as he stretches.

“Well, would you be a dear and grab me my spare shorts from Mav’s office?” He asks, bracing his hands on the ropes. He watches you roll your eyes and wander off to the office. The pyjama set that you chose were not supposed to be seen, let alone by him. You’ve had the shorts for years and they hug your ass a little snugly nowadays. He’s not complaining, a soft smirk on his lips as he watches you walk away.

He slips his phone from the pockets of his jeans, already connected to the speakers. He picks his personal workout playlist over the gym’s one. Something that you don’t already listen to every day. You wander back with his shorts balled up in your hand. He has his jeans hung over the ropes on the far side, standing in just his boxers and the gold cross necklace that he usually wears.

You throw him the shorts as you pull yourself up into the ring.

“I thought you’d be smiling,” Bradley comments as he steps into the shorts, setting them comfortably around his waist. “I’m literally giving you a free pass to punch me in the face.

You glare silently at him as he wraps your hands and secures Natasha’s gloves around your wrists. Music blaring over the speakers, he grabs your arms and puts them into position himself, then grabs your hips and knocks your feet into the spots he would like.

Manhandled into the correct stance, he stands before you to begin.

Bradley isn’t a nice teacher. He just has never understood why it doesn’t come as naturally to other people as it does to him. You can see it in his face that he’s biting his tongue every time you screw up. Whenever you drop your guard or fumble a punch. He just stares at you like he’s got a lot to say about it.

“I’m not gonna hold still for you, hit me like you mean it.” Bradley’s voice is stern and his eyes are so dark that it’s almost unnerving. He steps forward and his jab taps you in the stomach, just letting you know that if someone wanted to hurt you, they could. Your guard isn’t good enough.

You swallow, wondering if he can tell how much your hands are trembling with the gloves on. You glance down at the padded gloves, then at him.

“Hit me, Bambi — I can take it.” He promises you, nodding his head for you to go on. You curl your fists tight and then loosen them again, exhaling slowly. You step and jab, he side-steps you easily and taps his glove against your cheek. “Don’t wait to hit. Saw you coming from a mile away. Again.”

His guard focuses on his neck and jaw, elbows squared to protect his middle. But, after his side-step, his left side is just slightly exposed. You step and jab at the same time, catching him in the ribs. He nods at you.

Opening his mouth to praise you, he stops and taps his glove to the bottom of your chin. “That was good, but you just left your face completely open. C’mon, baby. Pay attention.”

It goes on like that. Dancing around the ring with him under the dim overhead light, thinking that you’ve got him good and then him tapping your face or your ribs or your stomach. The urge to quit comes and goes in a constant ebb. Hearing the nice things that he has to say almost makes hearing the bad things worth it.

“I’m tired.”

“So quit.” He tells you, face calm, eyes on yours, guard still up. “Drop your guard and take off your gloves.”

You stare at him.

“Would that make you feel better?” Rooster asks, the question appearing to be genuine. You know better than to assume that it is. You don’t bother answering him. “I bet it would make Jett feel better, watching you throw the towel—“

You step and jab at the same time, your glove catching the curve of his jaw and making his head turn. Your eyes widen and you step instinctively back. Rooster’s lips quirk. He looks you over and nods. “Perfect form. Atta girl, go again.”

“But I — “

“I told you to hit me,” Rooster nods calmly, “We’re training, baby. That was good. That was really good.”

“That’s it! Better,” He coaxes, stepping around the ring, glancing down at your footwork every now and again. “Guard.” He reminds you, tapping your cheek.

He grunts softly as you catch him in the ribs. Your breath catches as he looks up grinning. His brown eyes exceptionally dark, face only half illuminated from the lights. Your gaze trails. The sweat on his skin glistens and reflects in the light, making him all that much bigger. He nods, “Again.”

You stare at him. Watching you curiously and wondering what you could possibly be thinking now. He pauses for a moment to wonder if he has pushed you too far.

“C’mon, baby,” He nods for you to go ahead, exhaling slowly. “You almost had it.”

You glance down at the gold cross hanging between his collarbones, then back up at the sweat beading on his brow. His broad shoulders, thick arms — the fact that he came here tonight because he cares enough to check on you. His hands hang at his sides, your eyes linger on the swell of them for a moment.

“Ba—“

He’s cut off as you take three quick steps forwards, the fastest footwork that he has seen from you all night actually and throw an arm around his shoulders. You tug him down and press your mouth hungrily into his. Instinctively, his hands find your hips.

You throw yourself into him, knowing that he’ll catch you, and he does. Tucking his arms around your middle, he keeps you secure against him as you nip softly at his bottom lip. Pressed into his chest, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, enveloping you in it as your tongue strokes alongside his.

“Baby, what’s—“

“Please don’t call me that.” You breath out against him, pulling one arm back from around his shoulders. He watches, brows raising in faint surprise, half-amusement, as you bite the tab of the Velcro that secures the glove to your wrist and tear it off.

“I’ve got it.” He tells you, his voice calm and velvety as he catches hold of your arm and helps you out of the gloves. The second that he has the velcro off, you shake your hands out and send the leather flying back down to the canvas. Immediately, your hands are back on him again, snaking around his shoulders as you pull him into another kiss.

He presses the heel of his foot into your ankle, effectively tripping you, but it’s okay because his arms keep you from falling. You’re tucked safely against him as he presses you into the canvas. You lift your hips as much as you can with his weight bearing down on them, searching for some kind of reaction from him.

Rooster’s quick in knowing what you want. He slots a thick thigh against the apex of your thighs and grabs a tender fistful of your hair, tugging you back softly, just enough so that he can look at your face.

“What do you want?” He breathes out, pressing his chest into yours to keep you pinned into the canvas. His free hand skims along your thigh, squeezing into the flesh lustfully.

“I’ll give you three guesses.” You answer back, sarcasm dripping from your tongue. You lift your head, impatient, pressing your mouth to his throat. Bradley’s fingers curl tighter into your hair as you kiss along his neck, sucking gently at the taut skin.

“Not time to be catching an attitude, Bambi.” Rooster mumbles, letting his hands skin your sides, stopping to curl them around either side of your ribcage. He pulls back and pressed you down harder into the canvas, letting his brown eyes trail your body. His cock stirs in his shorts, fingers following his gaze. He reminds himself who he’s with.

Pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek, he grabs your hand and curls it around the growing bulge in his shorts. “You want it?”

He squeezes his palm softly over the top of yours, your lips parting at he hardens under your touch.

“Mm,” You nod hurriedly. Doubt crosses his face for a split-second, you catch his gaze linger on the delicate butterfly pyjamas that you’re wearing. “Remember when you said that I could hit you because you could take it?”

His brows scrunch, but he nods nonetheless.

“Yeah, me too.” You breathe out, catching the back of his neck and pulling him hard onto you. It takes him a second to figure out what you’re talking about. You can feel it when he realizes, his grip on your hips tightening as he grinds himself against your core.

The two thin pairs of shorts that you’re each wearing do nothing to separate you, you can feel exactly how worked up every inch of him is with every move that he makes. You gasp softly as his hands curl into the sides of your tank top, the sound of stitching splitting as he tugs you up and slips it over your head. His mouth is on you too quickly afterwards for you to care.

He groans softly, grabbing both of your arms by the biceps and pinning them at your sides, glancing quickly up at you before he starts off by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum. He works his way up, feeling you squirming against his grip as he reaches your breasts. Rocking his hips forwards at the same time as his mouth reaches your nipple, you gasp out from the contact. He flicks his tongue over the bud, feeling it harden and pebble in his mouth.

His fingers curl tighter around your biceps as he pulls back and grazes his teeth over the peaked flesh. As much as you can move, you squirm, chasing his mouth as he pulls back and moves onto the other breast.

Sucking, biting, grinding his cock against your core through the thin confines of your clothes. Just like he’s naturally good at boxing, you can’t help but wonder if all of this comes naturally to him too. It feels like it does. Pulling back, you try to sit up with him, gasping as he pressed you back down hard by your arms.

His gaze trails your torso, admiring the faint marks he has left on your tits, the remnants of his saliva that glisten through the dimmed lighting. He rests his open palm against your chest, freeing one of your arms, trailing it slowly along your sternum and down your navel. Seemingly enthralled in what he sees before him.

His palm goes right back to your arm as you attempt to move, pressing you down and covering you with a fraction of his weight as his attention goes right to your throat. He sinks his teeth into the base of your neck, just enough to make your back arch and the rest of your throat available to him. You moan contentedly, the sound vibrating off of each wall under the cover of the music.

Rooster glances down between your bodies and watches himself as he rocks the bulge in his shorts onto your core again and again. You’re tugged out of your daze as his mouth deserts your neck.

“Fuck, Bambi.” He tugs at your hips, lifting them enough to grab hold of your shorts and pull them down over the curve of your ass. Rooster pushes your thighs back, your shorts caught around your knees and keeping your legs together. Perfectly on display from him from where he is.

Resting his palm on your pelvic bone, he swipes his thumb through your folds, gathering your excitement on the digit. Grabbing the centre of the shorts, he pushes on the fabric. They guide your legs with them, making you whimper softly. Settled on his knees, he leans over and presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, curling his hand around your jaw.

You take his thumb into your mouth without dispute, wrapping your lips around the soaked digit. Bradley exhales slowly, glancing back down as he rolls his hips against your soaked core. Your excitement coats the front of his shorts, pitching over the tent in the material. His lips quirk softly at the sight, cock twitching in anticipation.

You press your teeth lightly into his thumb to bring his attention back up to you. His amused smirk grows as he presses the digit further into your mouth and grazes your throat. Tears brim in your eyes as he pulls the digit back from your mouth and curls his hand around your jaw. You moan into his mouth as he ruts his hips into your exposed core.

A particularly sharp throb has him groaning against you. He shoves at the waistband of his shorts, pushing it down just enough to expose himself. You suck in a sharp breath as the tip of his cock slides along the apex of your thighs. It dips between your folds, stroking along your core.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” He pants out, gaze focused between your legs. You whine gently, trying to push against him for more friction. Bradley lifts his gaze from between your legs and watches your face. Lips parted, looking up at him with baited breath, waiting for what comes next.

His chain dangles against your chin as he licks into your mouth. A strangled whimper catches in your throat as he rocks the flushed head of his cock against your clit.

“Rooster,” You breathe out, lifting your head. He presses his chest to the backs of your thighs, his weight keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Please.”

“Not just yet, Bambi — hang on a little bit more for me,” He nods his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your jaw. He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and drags in back down, thick and heavy against your sensitive skin. He watches you as he dips just the tip into you. You gasp out, chest tightening, legs pushing against him. His lips quirk amusedly as he pulls back out again, “Then you can have it.”

Sitting back on his knees, he tugs your shorts the rest of the way down your legs, thick hands grabbing at your hips and flipping you onto your front. You yelp softly as you land on your knees, barely catching yourself on your palms.

Bradley’s palm trails your spine swiftly and curls around the nape of your neck, guiding your head down until your cheek is pressed into the canvas. From there, you’re certain that you know what comes next. You wriggle your hips a little as you get comfy on your knees, spreading them apart in anticipation.

Watching with his bottom lip between his teeth, Bradley grins as he watches you. He taps his palm against your ass cheek, then settles it against the small of your back. He nudges you forwards, pressing your cheek into the canvas more firmly. You close your eyes and inhale slowly, waiting for the stretch to come. You jolt as his mouth meets your core, wet and warm.

“Oh— oh.” You choke out, hands scrambling for purchase against the barren plains of the canvas, the muscle of his tongue dips into you. He pressed his hand into the small of your back, free hand grabbing at your hip.

His fingers press tighter into your hip, keeping you still as he pulls back to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, gathering your juices on his tongue. Already soaking, your excitement spills out onto his chin as he flicks his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Rooster groans against your core, grazing his teeth over your clit as he pulls back. You jolt forwards, whimpering onto the canvas. He presses his index and middle fingers into you at once, biting down on his lip as you hug his digits.

“Fuck,” He hums softly, curling his fingers forwards, letting them knock into that spongy part of your walls that has you crying out. He mouths along the curve of your ass, peppering kisses over all of the skin he can reach. “God, Bambi, you’re killing me here.”

You whine in response, pushing back against him. Still no words. He presses a soft kiss to the small of your back as he slips out of his shorts. He knows you’ll get there.

Finally, the tip of his cock grazes through your folds again. Bradley exhales slowly, holding onto your hip as he presses into you. You gasp out immediately, the sound catching in your throat as you jerk away from him.

“It’s alright, kid,” Bradley promises, pressing his chest to your back. He mouths softly at your shoulder, along the curve of your neck. “I’ll go slow.”

“N-No!”

Bradley stops entirely. His brows furrow as he waits for you to explain what the fuck that outburst was. You swallow softly, feeling your skin flush in embarrassment.

“I mean — I — You don’t have to.” You breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut, furious with yourself. Bradley kisses your shoulder blade, feeling how tightly wound the muscles in your back are.

He rolls his hips forwards slowly until he’s buried into you completely. You exhale, feeling your jaw unclench as you realize that you haven’t killed the moment. Bradley groans softly against your back and shakes his head as your walls hug the length of his cock.

“You just let me know if I’m not living up to your standards, alright, Bambi?” He teases, breath tickling your neck and sending an electric shiver down your spine. Biting your lip, you give a meek nod of your head. Pulling back slowly, he lets his head fall back as the slick of your walls hugs his cock.

He rests his palm against the back of your neck and slopes your back, holding his breath as he presses into you again. It’s almost a moan, the baited little exhale that slips your lips. Bradley rocks his hips forwards again, gaging your reaction as his skin slaps into yours. You hum, pushing back eagerly against him.

Just like boxing, Bradley quickly learns where to be and how to move. Fucking into you with a hand pressed into the base of your skull to keep you down against the canvas, a soft smirk on his lips as your moans fill the gym. He hangs forwards, pressing his chest to your back and covering your body with his.

There is a thin line between grunting and outright growling, and Bradley teeters over the edge of it with each thrust. Slamming his hips forwards, rutting himself deeply into you. A strangled noise escapes your throat as your knees buckle under you, the only thing keeping you from hitting the canvas being his grip on your waist.

He’s relentless, dragging against your walls as he bottoms out again and again. Rooster grunts, leaning forward and pressing filthy, open-mouthed kisses along the length of your back. You push back against him desperately.

Your stomach tightens, legs trembling as you almost slip onto your stomach again. Bradley slips out of you and grabs your waist, flipping you onto your back. You land with a soft ‘oof’ and a longing whimper.

“I know, baby, I know.” He soothes, capturing the sounds you’re making with his mouth as he fills you once again, hiking your legs up around his waist. You grab his shoulders for leverage, arching away from the canvas and into his chest. He grunts out, breathing hard as he rests his forehead against your collarbones.

“Fuck,” He pants against your chest, curling his hands tighter around your hips, letting one of them slip between your legs. His index and middle fingers circle your clit together. “Shit, you feel so good.”

You open your mouth with every intention of answering him, the first syllable of your response catching in your throat, replaced with a desperate whimper. His mouth catches on to your throat, nipping feverishly along your soft skin as his fingers continue, relentless between your legs.

Often, there’s no way of telling for sure, but Rooster knows when he brings you to your orgasm. He practically feels you let go of that tightness in your stomach, legs squeezing around his hips as your muscles go tense. Your nails raking over his shoulders like it’s the only thing keeping you with him is also a good indicator.

Your walls squeeze around him, lips pressing lazily to his neck as your fingers tickle the hairs at the nape of his neck. His cock twitches as he pulls out abruptly, coating your pelvic bone and your navel in warm ropes of cum. He groans as he covers your body with his, resting his sweat-dampened forehead against yours. “Holy fuck.”

You hum tiredly, trailing your fingers along his muscled back.

He lifts his head finally and looks at your face, smoothing your messy hair back off of your face. Silence lingers between the two of you as Bradley cards his fingers over the top of your hair so that he can look closely at your face.

“I’ll train you.” Bradley decides, his voice soft as he presses his lips softly against yours. Your eyes widen briefly. You tilt your head at him, lips quirking. You lift your head and kiss his chin. “We’ll reschedule tomorrow.”

“Might have been kind of unprofessional to fuck your client in the ring, though.” You point out, lifting your hand and toying with the cross necklace as it dangles over your lips.

He shrugs his shoulders and squeezes his hands around your waist playfully, “Gotta warm up somehow.”

…

@khaylin27 @sharpsapphic666 @fudge13 @averyhotchner @hangmanscoming @bradshawseresinbabe @diorrfairy @thedroneranger @phoenix1388 @perpetuelledaydreaming @princess76179 @cherrycola27 @wkndwlff @xoxabs88xox @galaxy-moon

[hotpinkstars]

Okay, you asked for a request, and here I am. Because I myself also need requests and ideas for writing Genshin stories and receive exactly ZERO requests *upset sigh* And now the request itself

Reader, who is Childe's sibling or just one of the Harbingers? I love these guys and sometimes I jokingly think that the whole of Taivat hates them, not because they are the military power of Snow, but because they look too stylish and beautiful *cheerful laughter*

Therefore, why not try to write something about the Reader, who, knowing all the activities of Fatui, still loves and supports his sibilings

🍞 anon

-> one of the 11

synopsis -> you're a fatui harbinger, and particularly close to childe. you're like family to the harbinger.

warnings -> mentions of injuries, you're close to la signora in this as well lol

a/n -> hii! this was so cute and aaaaa new anon !!!!! i'm probs going to make an anon list if more people do this but yayyyy my first name anon 😊😊

w/c -> 649

you had a really… odd bond with childe.

he was just your fellow colleague, and the other harbingers + the tsaritsa herself has requested it to stay that way. but yet, the two of you always get sent out to missions together. the one time you two went to fontaine, you goofed off a little too hard. not only did childe want to duel the champion duelist herself, but you broke a few of the many rules furina has set in place and went to meropide. and then later escaped through the pipes together. hm. 

but whenever those moments occur, you treat him like your best friend! you’re close with his whole family, his siblings treat you like you’re part of their family, and his parents always welcome you in with open arms.

whenever childe has to go alone on a mission, you help support his family. with being a harbinger, you never know when your dying breath will be. especially with childe, who loves to play with his life. that stupid delusion, as you’d scold him.

his family doesn’t like your job too much, which is why you both hide it from his siblings. considering the toymaker act he puts on to preserve teucers innocence, you simply just tell him and sometimes tonia that he’s just out to sell his new stock in liyue, or whatever nation he went to for his actual line of work. 

not to mention how supportive the both of you were to each other while grieving over signora. you were also rather close with that woman, and it was a shame that she’d passed on so soon. as heartless as the other harbingers seemed during her funeral, you understood that they all chose to grieve in their own way.

you had to keep a straight face the time you were there, paying your respects to the late la signora. you listened to the others talk about their future plans for the fatui and where work will bring you next, and you said your own fair share of things. 

but as soon you were in the clear, you started crying. you knew fully well you weren’t supposed to care too hard about a woman like her. you didn’t know if any of your other colleagues felt enough emotion to her passing to even think about it. you put your resentment to the shogun in the back of your mind, running up to childe. 

“hey-” he started, cutting himself off when he saw your face. your eyes were puffy and tear-filled, lips bit chapped. “whats wrong?”

“i hated every second of her funeral. everyone seemed so unbothered,” you sniffled, letting the cold air hit your face as you check your surroundings once again. “especially the knave and the jester.”

he nodded, scrunching his eyes closed at the sudden gust of chilled wind. “considering even i feel a little tinge of grief, i doubt they’re not thinking about it. they’re harbingers, but it’s not like they don’t feel emotions.”

you nod as the tears come back. he wraps his arm around your shoulders and lets you cry into his side. you both walk back to his place, where you straighten yourself up before you walk through the door, greeting his parents with a smile and a hug.

if the time comes for combat and one of you gets hurt, the only goal is to finish the fight and get the other to the nearest infirmary. if its a near fatal injury, then other choices are to be made.

it pisses you off that even though you were asked to keep your business front around all the others or on the job, he still likes to tease and try to make you break your front. you always end up slapping him, drawing attention from the other harbingers (and it always makes them laugh. put him in his place!!!)

[aurorialwolf]

Y’all ever heard of epigenetics?

Okay, mildly (though some not) angsty parent!Darlin and parent!Sam headcanons for what their kid would be like (focusing on ages 15-19)

So; for starters, the name I chose for my lil guy, the son of Sam and Darlin, is Samuel Jr. Sylvester Collins-Barrera (Barrera being the last name I hc for my Darlin)

Also, my hc for Darlin is that they’re half or fully Mexican and can speak Spanish fluently

Gonna start off with average character stuff

- Everyone his age calls him Samuel, some of the older pack call him Junior, to differentiate from his father

- He’s fluent in Spanish, lies about it though to take a Spanish class to breeze through a couple credits for high school

- Now, this one depends on what mood I’m in, but he’s either a Freelancer or a Shifter before he gets turned (more on that later), orrr if I’m feeling real funky and wanna ignore some canon lore I make him a bit of a hybrid, able to shift but quite adept at freelancer magics

- Him and Darlin’ spar, so his combat ability is honed to the point of them being evenly matched by the time he’s 19, but he can never quite defeat them in a match

- When he gains access to his magic at 13, Sam teaches him some small magic, and starts teaching him healing, which he picks up quickly

- Eventually specializes in healing, with a minor in illusions and dabbles in elemental magic at D.A.M.N. (This is in the further future though so this isn’t in a timeline order or anything)

- He shifts accidentally for the first time at home with Sam, 3 days after the solstice, not a very fun experience :(, and Darlin isn’t home, so Sam kinda freaks out cuz he doesn’t know what to do

- Not going to discuss the other pack kid headcanons here much (different post perhaps?) but basically, David has a son, and Samuel (the kid I’m talking about in this post) has a crush on him (him being the son of David)

- Vivienne, Vincent’s daughter, and him are very close, both being kids of clan-less vampire parents, so they can relate to each other the most

- He’s just as much of a vigilante as Darlin was, which makes his parents very worried, but he can heal himself, and use magic, helping him be better off in fights

Okay, now for the angst!! Yay :D

- He and David argue a lot about his reckless actions, leading him to distance himself from David and act similarly to how Darlin did, albeit relying on the general pack much more

- This one requires a small explanation; in my headcanon of how kids of vampires work (since they kinda can’t reproduce in canon etc idk it’s weird), they still inherit the current blood of their vampire parent, as well as their parents original blood (I did take a bio class so ik it would prob be only their old blood bc of genes and gametes but it’s cooler this way lol), and if their parent’s blood is from a very strong old-blood, it can affect the child adversely when they reach the age of unlocking their magic

- Sooooo because Samuel Jr. has Solaire blood, he’s turned by his own blood trying to take over the rest of his body when he’s 15, and basically dies!! Coming back as a vampire ofc

- And this is massively depressing for Sam, like majorly,, because as his son dies in his arms he tries his best to heal him and fails, not to mention he’s now the reason his son has lost the same freedoms Sam did many years ago :(

- In my headcanon of how this works with being turned early and stuff I think Samuel Jr. continues to age until he’s physically about 19 ish

- Ofc Samuel is bitter asf and says some super vitriolic stuff to Sam, temporarily severely harming their relationship, though they make up afterwards

- While in bloodlust, Sam and Darlin try bringing him to pack stuff still, but he’s a danger to non-vampires, making things difficult

- David eventually starts to get protective of the pack, seeing him as a possible threat (does it get dehumanizing? Yeah a little bit) but David’s son doesn’t care, and hangs around Samuel even though it’s dangerous, letting him drink his blood

- At one pack event David can’t find Samuel or his son and gets a bit panicky, even though he tries to hide it, and gets Sam, eventually they find them both, David’s son (who is the same age as Samuel, my guy ain’t feeding on a child dw 🥲) sitting on a bed playing a game on his phone, with Samuel calmly drinking from his wrist

- David is confused and a little frustrated, but his son explains that Samuel still has enough control, and that just because he’s been turned doesn’t mean he should be outcasted even during bloodlust (though he’s a little bit wrong because Samuel really is a danger but yk,, it’s ok Samuel is trying really hard to be careful around him bc he still has the crush from when they were kids)

- David cares about Samuel I promise 🥲 but he’s very concerned for the general well-being of the pack

- Samuel, being a stubborn guy just like both his parents, refuses to accept that he’s a vampire and is unable to enter sunlight and does some.. very reckless experiments, essentially running into sunlight at pack gatherings when no one’s looking and having to be dragged back by one of the nearby shifters

- Eventually he finds a weird way to alter his own core with a lot of magic, but he’s not really altering it, it’s more like his core never fully changed because he only had >49% Solaire blood so it didn’t have full effect (that does mean Vincent’s daughter got fully turned though 😔) so he can oddly change between forms, still having many disadvantages ofc (mary sue? Nooooooooo why would I do that :3 I just like multi-faceted powerful folks yeeeup) like sensitivity to sunlight, and a hard limit on how long he can retain his humanity (he can seem totally human / a shifter / a freelancer for about 2 hours until his hold on the magic keeping his core the right way slips)

- So once he’s around 17 he’s got a good hold on his magic, having reaccessed it after his experiments when he was 16 ish

- ..this does mean he’s a pretty crazy fighter now after a while of practice

Nowwwww who remembers me mentioning epigenetics way at the beginning of this lol (I promise I’m almost done but he’s my favourite redacted oc 😞)

- Fair warning this may imply that Darlin has the ability to birth so erm if that isn’t your cup of tea that’s totally okay and you can ignore this bit

- Basically Darlin’s epigenetics are passed onto him, and he has some major mental baggage because of it, being far more prone to mental health problems :(

TW: ALCOHOLISM

- He also copes very unhealthily with his problems by drinking, so much so that he swears off alcohol and stays sober when he’s only 20 and still can’t drink legally (in the US at least) :((

tw over it’s ok to read now

Okay okay that’s it for now I know I blabbered so much just now immm sorrryyyyy 😞

I will be posting more because there is a lot more to this little canon divergent thingy of mine !! Been having this in my brain for almost two years now but felt it was too.. idk.. self indulgent? Cuz I made him a littleeee too powerful and cool 😔 but I give him disadvantages so it’s ok ✅!!

[straw-beri-jam]

Drrr-kuramerukagari post ketsu swap au

Basically iseya/eiwajima switching places with izaya/shizuo

I’ve never really posted abt things before and this is the first time I’m attempting to write abt something in such detail, so please bear with me🥲

I want to emphasize that this is all post ketsu but prob before sh and sunset novels bc I’m literally ignoring some characters.

Iseya is shocked to find himself in a wheelchair, looks for the one person he knows and trusts, eiwajima, only to find someone slightly different, in appearance and also behavior. When they meet he looks at him like he’s grown a second head, the wheelchair shocks him too but he also wasn’t expecting izaya to just appear in front of him with no purpose. Iseya just looks at him, comments on the hair that while he does look good blonde he prefers his natural brown.

Shizuo thinks he’s playing games so he shouts and takes a step closer and they’re both shocked to see izayas body tremble. Iseya gets glimpses of the battle in his head, his mind repeating the events over and over again and he understands. They’re not together, they’re hardly even friends. They’re enemies. How he can’t even begin to understand, how he could come to hate this man? He’s so much like eiwajima, just with sharper edges.

He takes a look around people are staring and whispering, some recognize them both and think they’re gonna get into a fight. He doesn’t like hearing them talk, despite his love for people he doesn’t really want to be seen right now, not in front of him like this when everything’s so complicated but also not. He doesn’t really know what to do now. He wanted to confine in the one person he knew he could talk to, but that person doesn’t exist the way he does in his memories.

Shizuo doesn’t understand what’s going through the fleas head but he can see him thinking. He almost looks sad, which is weird because izaya would never show emotion, especially not to him.

Iseya understands their rivalry more or less because despite everything it’s still them, so he tells him that he remembers him differently but he doesnt want to hurt him. He wants to learn more about him. He doesn’t know how long he’ll stay here or even how he came here, but he knew from the start that something was different. And so if he’s gonna have to stay here it’ll be with this alternate version of eiwajima, whatever their past may have been.

Shizuo is dumbfounded but agrees bc this guy, whoever he is, seems much easier to get along w than izaya, or maybe it’s just a side of izaya he never got the chance to see. (Or maybe in the very back of his mind he’s actually still playing games w him)

After talking (he realizes that this being a lie is too much of a stretch even for izaya) he feels sad to find out that they exists somewhere and they’re together, they’re friends they talk and laugh and are happy. Iseya, he calls himself, tells him about eiwajima and how he is, what his life is like and he is so jealous of his alternate self because he really is living the life he’s wanted since he found out he had this cursed strength.

He feels this loss, that he could have had that if he tried hard enough. The voice in his head telling him that eiwajima makes iseya feel good while he put izaya in a wheelchair. Eiwajima has wooed iseya while he scared izaya away. He really wonders if he has anything in common with the guy, but he must because iseya is staring at him like he’s holding the sun.

Iseya kisses him at some point and shizuo finds he doesn’t know what he’ll do when this guy leaves because he’s really enjoying their time together.

Alternatively if it’s eiwajima switching places, he’s rather confused at the hair and doesn’t like hearing people talk abt him while he walks, it seems they have nothing nice to say and they all avoid him like he’d crush them with his glance.

Of course he seeks out iseya only find a wheelchair bound man who feels like iseya but has a very unsettling vibe. He is obviously wounded if the wheelchair wasn’t enough to go by but apart from that the man freezes at his appearance and is trembling.

He immediately realizes that they don’t share the same relationship and past he knows to be true. What’s more they not only don’t get along but things have escalated between them so far that he’s managed to traumatize the man before him.

He doesn’t know what the best course of action here is, he doesn’t want to speak for alternate him because he doesn’t quite understand the extent of their situation, but “iseya” looks at him with such hatred and demands answers that he quite frankly doesn’t have.

He decides to come clean bc he couldn’t pretend to hate him even if he tried. He explains who he is and what he actually wanted by coming here and alternate iseya is so confused. He starts ridiculing him and it does kinda piss him off but when he accidentally punches a hole through the wall in frustration and “iseya” freezes again all his anger goes away.

He tells him that he cares about him. That despite what they’ve been through here he misses iseya and wants to see him. He tells him that they’re alike in some ways and he finds them endearing and wouldn’t trade what he has w iseya for anything. That they’re happy.

Izaya looks so bitter and hates that what this fake Shizu-chan is saying actually makes him want it, he realizes that he might be jealous and gets pisses bc as if he’d be jealous. He tells fake shizu that fake him is prob just lying to him and actually hates him but he’s hiding it to use him for his own advantage, bc that’s what kind of person he is really and if they’re anything alike then that’s what’s gonna happen.

Eiwajima just gives him a sad smile (which pisses izaya off even more). He knows what the words mean, that the world he’s describing, his home, is making the other man emotional. He strongly and confidently says that iseya loves him and he knows it. It’s not possible to fake their kind of love, and he doesn’t mind being used by that man, they love eachother and that’s all that really matters.

Izaya has never hated anyone more than this man before. He’s so much worse than shizu-chan bc he doesn’t get angry, he doesn’t react to anything he just sits there, spouts all this nonsense and looks at him like he’s actually in love w him and he really doesn’t know how to get out of this situation, he doesn’t want to be here but he’s so incredibly curious abt their life. He knows this guy is telling the truth but he refuses to believe it bc it seems so dreamlike and unreal, he can’t fathom being happy as described, much less with this man.

Eiwajima wants to stay with him, despite the fact that he didn’t actually do anything to bring this man such pain he still sees the emotions swimming around in his eyes and he wants to help him. Despite the fact that it’s not his iseya, it’s still this worlds version of him and that’s enough for him to try and fix whatever they have going on, or at least help in some way. He tries to get close, as close as he’s allowed and talks about whatever he remembers from his home, all things almost always leading to iseya of course. He tries various topics hoping the other will come in at some point and they’ll have a normal conversation, as normal as it can get anyways.

Izaya eventually does, they talk like they’re friends. Izaya can’t comprehend what’s happening but he’s trying not to think about, fake Shizu-chan is interesting, he likes hearing about this world of theirs and his life there, he realizes that he’s having a casual conversation and it’s easy too he’s easy to talk to and listen to. He’s enjoying this more than he originally thought he would. He wonders if his Shizu-chan is this nice to be around when he’s not throwing things at him, which he knows is probably true, he just has never been on the receiving end of shizuo’s kindness. However this “eiwajima” he’s very charming, and he can’t seem to look away from those eyes.

Idk where this is going but yeah I just want them to find out abt their alternate lives separately and cry abt how miserable they are. Maybe they would try to find each other and start over (in a sense) after this happens so they can actually make a happy ending for themselves (or a happy new beginning)

them actually swapping places makes it hurt more since they’re inserted into this foreign world. They would both be shocked to find their supposed enemy sleeping next to them and the ppl around them liking them, I don’t think they’d ruin anything, well maybe izaya would try depending on what would happen but I don’t think he’d would want to make these ppl hate alternate him even just to spite him bc they prob wouldn’t, I mean they know what he’s like and they like him so…

shizu would be so shocked to see ppl liking him random ppl not afraid of him but wanting him around, he’d be afraid to talk to them so as not to hurt them. And then as far as their relationship goes they’d be happy but also sad that they can’t have it.

Overall it would mostly be sad (bc as it seems I love angst), heartbreaking really, to see what they could have had but weren’t as lucky as the other two. There’s a lot of reasons as to why the two of them never really got the chance to get along (which I’m not gonna get into now bc that’s a whole other story and lots of ppl have already made theories on it) but I think that seeing versions of themselves happy and well is like a slap in the face bc had their circumstances been different they could have had that, had they tried to do things differently they could have had something similar.

This has been in my head for a while (post ketsu usually is on repeat) and I really had to get it out bc it’s too much, and it turned into a whole ass essay🥲 this is the first time I’m attempting this tho so pls don’t look into it too much, it’s a mess of thoughts that I can’t quite put together. I apologize if there’s any mistakes or holes in it, it’s def ooc so yeah…

Thank u to anyone who decided to read it and made it this far! If theres anything anyone wants to add pls go right ahead I’m starving for these boys. Thanks again for reading! 🥰

[komohine]

Shitpost, and also here’s my headcanon Jaith timeline:

Note that i hc Keith to be a bit older than James, maybe like 3 months.

When they were really young (like, under 9 years old) James and Keith were playmates and were on pretty good terms and decently close. Keith was the shy reserved guy in kindergarten, James was extroverted and charismatic. Fast friends.

Keith’s dad dies when he’s 9ish years old. Keith does a complete 180 mental health wise and pushes everyone, including James, away from him. James, being so young, doesn’t know how to deal with this so, after a pretty long go at attempting to comfort Keith (ex. he would sit by him in daycare and sneak him XL candy bars because Keith had nobody to spend the summer with and because, according to James, “he’s making the whole place miserable”) he eventually resorts to being an asshole to try to get a reaction out of Keith (cue S7 flashbacks where James was… an ass to Keith). His bullying era lasts from middle school to the first year of Garrison cadet training. Then he kinda gets punched out of it lol.

James apologizes for making fun of his parents, I hc its a projection of his own insecurities because thats what ppl said to James since I hc James’ parents as rich and all. Rich, but they don’t gaf abt their son, and view him more as an embarrassment than their child. It’s why he was in some random ass daycare during the summer as a child.

With the help of Shiro, mostly, Keith starts to slowly recover (maybe 14 years old now). A puppy love, crushing situation arises between James and Keith. They never officially date, but it’s pretty clear to anyone paying attention that they’re more than just friends. In the beginning, Keith prob mistook his crush for hatred (hence, the attached image… lol….) but after confiding in Shiro he sorted that out. Secretly holding hands, waiting around corners to pass each other notes, Keith dragging James into possible trouble and James always being the one to get them out (Keith doesn’t care abt being caught but James sure does lol)…

Then Shiro “dies” when Keith is 17. Keith does another 180 in mental health and pushes everyone away again, despite James’ best efforts. He quickly spirals out of control and gets expelled from the Garrison. He leaves without another word to James. James had to find out through the rumour mill that Keith was expelled (he thought Keith just didn’t want to be bothered). Keith then proceeds to be completely untraceable, James prob thinks he’s dead. Keith then does canon Voltron stuff. James is absolutely wrecked by this because 1) the love of his life is possibly dead and 2) he made a promise to Shiro when he was younger that he’d take care of Keith and clearly he has failed.

6 years pass and Keith comes back. They’re both 24-25 ish now (i think?). Cue S7 prolonged eye contact and also the other scenes where James and Keith are together. All his life, Keith was just a bit taller than James. He was always smug abt that. But coming back after 6 years, he finds that now James’ is slightly taller than him.

Throughout these 6 years James has never once gotten over Keith. Neither did Keith, but yk. James is still hurt over the fact that Keith up and disappeared for 6 years, but eventually after many apologies and an actual “I love you” they get back together kiss and are happily ever after 💞

Bruh imagine reuniting with your long lost love after 6 years and then immediately being thrown back into war and nearly dying multiple times id actually lose it

[drowninginthoughts27]

Due to popular demand (@siriusblackfamilytrauma @certifiedl0verboy and @sixlane told me to) here are some bartylily headcanons cause I’ve been obsessing over these two recently

Sry this is A LOT and it’s all toxic bartylily which I mentioned before but I mostly came about cause I of all the people saying that fic writers shouldn’t write toxic/bad relationships so my brain automatically went to what’s the worst a relationship could be!!!

- the first vibe I thought of is just the after movies tbh like this complete rule follower girl falling for this really tatted up bad boy who’s only getting through uni cause his dad runs the place just straight up preppy x bad boy wattpad vibes yk

- barty kinda wants to change Lily for what he thinks is the better and get her more into his crowd

- lilys friends and family don’t approve of barty cause he’s an absolute asshole to anyone who isn’t Lily

- the bar is so fucking low in this relationship for both of them my god

- the other vibe is a very similar only Lily is already a bit fucked up yk

- they would probs meet at some club cause their friends introduced them

- they both have a shit ton of tattoos especially cause barty is a tattoo artist and why not (never ever get tattoos with other people it’s just a bad idea)

- they both come from money and are just bored little rich kids running around completely ignorant of reality and consequences

- they’re almost always drunk or high or both when together

- they wanna be super casual but they just can’t cause they’re both so god damn possessive

- either way their undeniably toxic and in no way meant to be end game (tho they might be but it’s just not a happily ever after and Lily picks her self up gets a divorce and ends up with Pandora or smth later on cause I said so)

- and they both 100% have daddy issues (or just family issues in general but barty is a mommas boy at heart)

- for Lily it’s never a point of changing barty or like a savior complex or anything

- they are constantly breaking up and getting back together and getting into more fights and having the best makeup sex and fighting more and crying and fighting well having sex and it’s violent and messy and just straight up terrible

- they are THE couple even though they are awful for each other cause they just always look cute in public and on the outside they seem like they have it all together even though everyone knows they most definitely don’t

Ok that’s all for now but I might come back to ramble more later :)

[writingonleaves]

and there are some days when i think that, somewhere, you're watching - the blue au

universe: the blue au

warnings: cancer, grief, sadness, the usual with anything to do with the blue au's premise lol

title: "chemtrails" by lizzy mcalpine

word count: 1.1k

author's note: lol hey!! there are a million other wips i should be working on but here we are! if you haven't read at least the first part of this au yet, you probs should for context. we are also manifesting here all three hughes brothers make it to the olympics. inspired by the beautiful players tribune article kevin hayes wrote for his late brother jimmy. i thought a lot about which brother would write something like this and ended up settling on quinn <3 enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

*****

The Ones We Play For 

for The Players Tribune 

by Quinn Hughes 

Written February 4, 2026

I’ll never forget the first time I put on a USA jersey for an international competition. 

It was for the 2015 World Under-17 Challenge when I had just turned 16. I didn’t think much of it at the time. The only thing I thought about was playing well, but it was an honor nonetheless. 

Every time you get the opportunity to represent your country in any way, it’s an honor. I know everyone says it, but it’s true. The whole nation is looking at you and cheering you and your teammates on. The playing of the anthem means more than ever. You look at the jersey and feel like you’re part of something bigger.

Next week, hockey at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milano-Cortina will begin. I’ve always dreamed of being about to play at the Olympics, but now that it’s actually here, it’s surreal. 

The team is great, and I feel lucky to even be here. As I look around at my teammates, I feel confident that we can bring home a gold medal. But it’ll take hard work. That’s nothing that we don’t know though. 

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it means to put on the jersey and who we wear it for. Of course, I think I speak for every single person at these Olympics when we say we wear it for our country and the fans watching us, whether here in Italy or back home. 

But we’re all playing for someone in our own support group. The village that has brought each of us here.

First, my parents, who have been there since the very first day. My mom, who taught me how to skate and my dad, who taught me how to see the game. My extended family: my grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and family who aren’t technically family but who might as well be. Everyone in my life who’s always offered support and encouraging words, who has sat in cold rinks and watched me play. Whether they’re here in Italy or watching from various parts of the world, I’m playing for them. 

I’m also playing for my brothers, who will be on the ice with me. That’s still crazy for me to think about. We never could’ve imagined this when we were playing mini sticks in the basement as kids. Of course, we dreamed about it. But to see it come to reality? I feel very grateful. In the locker room, I look at Jack on my right and then Luke at my left. We’re playing for each other. 

But most importantly, I’m playing for Miguel Sandoval. 

I don’t talk about Miguel often, but he was one of the most important people in my life. Still is. He met my parents before I was born and automatically became a second father to me. To be honest, I don’t think I talk about him often because it still hurts to think about. 

Miguel was one of my biggest cheerleaders from the beginning. The fact that he’s not alive to see me take the ice next week is, well, it’s a lot of things. Sad is the first word that pops to mind. Unfair is another. The one who was at the rink next to my father in the stands before I even really knew how to play hockey isn’t alive to see me play in the Olympics? There’s no words to describe how devastating that is. 

He never got to see me play in any USA jersey, even though he was always confident I would put one on eventually. He died of pancreatic cancer on New Year’s Day, 2015. 

It’s been over 11 years without him, but he’s still in everything I do. A huge part of the reason I wear 43 is because of him — his birthday is April 3. I still remember his boisterous laugh and his kind eyes. He wrote Jack, Luke and I letters before he died that were specifically addressed to be given to us on our draft days. I still carry mine with me on every road trip. That’s how long and how strongly he believed in us. Somehow, he just knew that we would be drafted long before it happened. 

I have every word of that letter memorized. Sometimes, I trace over his handwriting with my thumb, and it feels like he's still with us.

During his brief battle with cancer, even when his body had almost no strength left, he always greeted us with a smile and an enthusiastic greeting. Even when he was advised not to, he made it to the games he could until his last days. To the very last day, he lived life with the biggest smile on his face.

If anyone should be here to see his “talented boys” take on the ice, it’s him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have someone like Miguel who loved them so unconditionally. I’m grateful for the time I had with him, even if I desperately wish it was more. We weren’t his sons by blood, but he treated us like family. But sometimes life is unfair, and we have to hold on to the fact that everything happens for a reason.

Here’s a reason: Miguel’s wife, Maeve, who is like a second mother to me, will be watching from Boston. Maeve is the best, always keeping it lighthearted and reminding me that life is supposed to be lived to the fullest. She has this youthful energy that’s just so infectious. She’s the one who always reminds me that hockey is supposed to be fun. I wouldn't be half the person I am today without her support.

And then their daughter, Clementine. Clem, I call her. Jack calls her Clee and Luke calls her Clemmy. Clem’s my best friend / older sister — the universal older sister, to be honest. It doesn’t matter if our last names aren’t the same. She’s been there for me ever since I could remember. Even when we were states, sometimes countries, away, I knew that if I called her, she’d always pick up. Currently on the journey to becoming a doctor, Clem is the kindest, most intelligent, most selfless and strongest woman I’ve ever met. She was the one who lost her father, but she made sure that all of us were okay. Even now, she can’t ever seem to take off the big-sister hat. But I wouldn’t have her any other way. 

Miguel, wherever you are, I can tell you a few things. First, I promise that we’re taking care of your wife and daughter as best as we can. We’re gonna try our best to get to the final rounds of this tournament so that they can fly out and watch us play. We love them and they’ll always be family. Second, whenever I feel a bit lost or need to be grounded, I think of you and your calm demeanor and bear hugs. I wish I could have just one more hug. Squeeze you one more time.

Miguel, when I put on that USA jersey and step on the ice, I will be playing for you. Jack, Luke and I will all be skating for you.

We miss you. 

We love you.

This is for you.

Yours, 

Quinn

[infraaa]

How do we- how do we feel about longan and a siren reader.. silly little idea 😋

『INSP BY THE CONTORTIONIST AND IF YOU DONT KNOW THAT SONG….. GO LISTEN TO IT NOW 👹 also I really like this idea ngl! I made some hcs for it if you don’t mind. 💜』

longan dragon cookie w a siren s/o (afab)

bakers notes // imo this made me legit think of like… like sea fairy or black pearl. So since this is a siren thing there’s probs gonna be some ties between black pearl and the s/o (also @m00r3-starzz and or @ask-the-longan-dragon may place me in super hell (💜) after this.) also I’m still coming for either a random anon or @windlotus

tw i guess // hypnosis bc siren. Also it’s just a tad bit suggestive due to the nature of sirens, and the song… so… yk.

what makes you think that they haven’t or have not encountered one? For fucks sake, look, their palace literally floats above the Pacific Ocean.

They’ve seen Black Pearl Cookie at some point, and they know who Sea Fairy is… if anything seeing a siren would just take them back…

Your glistening tail under the moonlight and the reflection of the water on your gills… like a shining gem in their hoard.

Your singing would bounce through their air, into the nightly current floating around the golden palace.

Longan knows what you want. They aren’t dumb. Sirens sing for souls— for blood and food. And they are aware that Dragon’s Blood is well sought out after not just by vampires, but sorcerers and mages for its benefits and health properties.

They try to ignore you to the best of their abilities. But after a while it gets hard not to go out.

But when you sing so beautifully,

“Twisted all my limbs for you. Two of them in knots and two of them in loops. Ribbons tied around like a noose… wonder if I'll ever get it loose.”

Mmm, so smoothly…

“I don't wanna bruise for you. Holding back my words until my face is blue (huh!) I don't really care about your crew. You can tell 'em what you wanna do.”

You get into their head and make them internally spin around in a dizzy circle when you make your voice sound like that for them…

“Pushin me, lovin me, pulling me, fuckin me, crushin me, touchin me… aah!~”

Eventually they bite their lip and follow you, their eyes a dull gold. Their grey complexion now reflecting somewhat of a warmer tone in their cheeks. Aimlessly walking towards you, the click clacks of their feet across ivory tile floor as they go in and out…

They walk out to a terrace to eye you like a vulture, looking down at you, golden eyes now agleam in the dark of night. Yet they hold some kind of want…

They want you in their palace. But that’s impossible. If you’re akin to Black Pearl, you wouldn’t be able to survive above water… at least… not for long.

But that doesn’t mean that they can’t come to you, despite knowing the possible dangers that lead up to that. But ah hell, they could defeat you in a fight easily. The temptation of floating down to you was forming in their legs.

They must show restraint and willpower however.

Oh…

Twisting all my bones like screws. Stretching my self worth, just like you usually do. Caught you like the cold or a flu (achoo!) Praying that I'll someday be immune.

Here we go again…

Got me like a bad tattoo… always under skin, even when it gets removed. Never got a chance to undo… positions that you forced my way into.

Ugh! Their breath just quickened… mouth watering… of course, they don’t let you see that. That’s all internal. But they’re internally foaming at the mouth. Truly miserable.

But they do anyway. They step up to the terrace and graciously float downward. They have a small lump in their throat that tightens. They feel hot— but a comfortable kind of heat soars through them.

As you bummed you put a webbed finger under their chin, the intensity of eye contact not seeming to phase you. You smile… sickly sweet towards them…

“Sing. Sing weakling.”

They grow to crave it nightly— like a drug. Your soft sweet voice not looking to harm them, but to please them. And when push comes to shove, as it sometimes does…

There’s… other ways they can make you sing.

And sometimes, after you actually do, you continue to do so going on further in the youth of the night.

But the singing they make you do… isn’t singing. If you catch me…

[mistyfoxxy]

I saw someone say that they think the scenes of (Hunter and Willow) (Camila, Amity, and Gus) (Luz) from the teleporting spell was prob a reference of them splitting up in WAD.

Here’s my Huntlow take on this. And Puppet Willow her design is based off @raystel ‘s design! Also @rainbowangel110 🙂 .

‼️‼️ found this in my drafts. Unfinished. I sorry. ‼️‼️‼️

.

“So… now what?” Hunter asked quietly. An intense yet soft expression on his face.

Willow felt heat rise up to her face. Titan, she hasn’t realized just how much she had been holding back these last few months. She didn’t think it was love quite yet! But she sure felt close as her heart beat faster and she felt herself lean into him. He inhaled a little sharply, his face turning a shade lighter than the red grass she had missed so much. She curled her hand into his and smiled out towards the others. Everything would be fine. She would find her dads, face the collector and free everyone, and everything would go back to normal and maybe this thing she had now with Hunter would turn into somethi-

“ Guys look out!” Hunter called quickly as he scooped Willow into his arms and dashed to the side.

“Luz!” Hunter napped his face to the direction of Amity’s cry.

Amity stood in front of the human, whose arms stretched before suddenly falling to her side.

“Your coming with me human!”

Hunter had to think fast. Stay and try to fight against the immortal child or get away and make a plan.

“Hey! You change my baby back!” Camila cried.

“Another human? Oh come on! Oh. Wait which one of you is Luz?” They pointed angrily, full of confusion. He then shot out another star toward there group.

Now or never.

“Gus!”

He caught his eye, sending a message just through his eyes as they had developed a habit of over the past months in the human realm.

Gus nodded and grabbed Amity and Camila arms, pulling them and jumping off the cliff.

Hunter grabbed Willows arm and jump off the other side.

“Come back here!”

…

Hunter fought the warmth in his cheeks at the feel of Willow once again in his arms. Gus’ illusion had helped them get away safely, distracting the collectors spells or whatever those star things were.

Willow seemed to be quiet as a mouse. Her tiny chubby frame curled up in his arms was a blessing. It definitely gave him the reason he needed to go into mission mode. Otherwise he’d be a blubbering mess because oh! They held hands! Like actually for no reason other than wanting to. Not to lead him and Gus out of the candy section in Dublix to stop them from stealing candy. Not to show him her favorite flowers and stuff to hurry his walk up. Not to comfort herself during a scary movie (we’ll they both did that). No. This felt. More than friendship. Like. If not what Luz and Amity had yet… then advanced friendship?

Hunter crept farther to the darkness, ready to dash up the the bones of the Titan as they had originally planned to. But they were looking for the collector then. They had found them. What were we supposed to do after that? They really hadn’t planned that far… had they.

“Holy tit-“ Hunter mentally cursed himself for his whispered outburst.

Willow had nuzzled closer into his shoulder. Her lips were perked in a line that said ‘what.’ And she wouldn’t meet his gaze, but she remained there, her hair tickled his chin and he felt himself blush so much more when he noticed her own.

He had to get his head back on his shoulders or they were gonna be puppified too. Maybe now was a good time to put her down- Titan she was so cute. Ugh stop it!

“Where did the others go?” Willow whispered softly.

“I don’t know exactly. I told Gus to go without thinking. There probably somewhere around here but I don’t know where. It seems like the collector is still on our tails though.” He muttered back.

“What sort of magic do you think this is? Have you ever heard about it?”

“The collector? Belos.. he never told me about it. All I know is they’re immortal, that the titans power can cancel theirs out. But I don’t know- wait that’s it-“

Willow clamped her hands over his mouth so fast he hadn’t even seen her do it. She remembered when the draining spell was happened and the collector had used his fingers as if they were binoculars. They wouldn’t be too careful.

[xmoonlitxdreamx]

Notes/thoughts/interpretations/critiques on p. 1-7 of the junker short story "a friendly rivalry"

I'm not much of a reader but I thought I'd try to read the junker short story since it's available for free now. I took page-by-page notes on my thoughts/impressions while I was reading, which I'll put below. :0

This is only the first 7 pages because the latter half of the story was kind of confusing for me (a lot of combat that wasn't making sense to me), but I'll try to give those a proper read some time too.

(Please note that I'm critical at times because it's easier for me to write about things that don't work rather than do work, so if you don't like reading critique this might not be for you. I try not to be too negative or upset sounding but idk not totally sure how I come off in these notes. personally I'm like Extremely Neutral™️ about the story because I don't really care much about reading in the first place so lskdfjlsdfj)

This will prob not make much sense unless you have the story open at the same time, just a heads up;;

Page 1

Narration is 3rd person mostly limited to Junkrat’s thoughts/impressions (aka narration is in 3rd person but comments/etc made in the narration is indicative of Junkrat’s perception of things)

The cover art made me think it was gonna be from Roadhog’s POV but nah it’s mostly Junkrat

Narration refers to Roadhog as Junkrat’s “best mate” (implicitly Junkrat’s thoughts, so Junkrat thinks of Roadhog as his best mate)

Roadhog possibly nervous & Junkrat is able to pick up on it OR Junkrat is nervous & projecting his nervousness onto Roadhog (as the story progresses, it becomes clear that it’s the latter)

Junkrat calls Junker Queen “Queenie”; can be interpreted as affection for her or disrespecting her

Junkrat thinks he and the Queen have a mutual respect; Roadhog disagrees; indicative of Junkrat’s inability to accurately assess his relationships with other people I guess

They sell boba at a bar in Junkertown apparently LMAO?? I always interpreted it to be that Junkrat picked up the taste for boba from traveling around the world during his heist spree (tho honestly Junkrat’s boba interest was just a fun thing they added based on a fan question about Junkrat’s canteen iirc so I kinda get not taking an earnest route with this lmao)

Sludge pit = some sort of punishment for criminals in Junkertown I guess. Also Junkertown has a jail. I guess there is some sort of criminal justice system in Junkertown idk.

Footnote on p. 1 is kinda funny (meant to emphasize that Junkrat’s a blabbermouth) but tbh I always took Junkrat’s “secret treasure” to mean “Junkrat has a treasure but no one knows what it is,” not “Junkrat has a secret and it’s a treasure.” (Junkrat telling everyone/bragging about having a treasure is in line with my headcanon though)

Unclear if this story takes place before or after their heist spree. Honestly continuity-wise it doesn’t make much sense either way; it kinda more feels like the heist spree never happened.  (If it was before the heist spree, its weird that Junker Queen would try to execute them here but then just exile them later. If it was after the heist spree, it’s weird she let them back in Junkertown just to execute them since they’re not her problem anymore.)

Page 2

Roadhog’s “worried look” was apparently just him waiting for Junkrat to shut up, cementing that Junkrat’s perception of Roadhog’s emotions was just Junkrat projecting his own worry onto someone else

This is a formatting thing but I don’t like when books have big blocks of text on the page from stuff that hasn’t happened yet LMAO why are they showing me spoilers.

It’s reveal on this page is that they’re here to be executed. Tbh this is kind of tonally weird to me, like I know Junker Queen wants Junkrat and Roadhog killed but it’s kind of at odds with the kind of cartoonishness of how the story’s written. (cartoonishness elaborated on in later bullet points)

Anyway the execution reveal also reveals that Junkrat’s perception of him and Junker Queen having “mutual respect” is something he made up

Junkrat is social in Junkertown and he seems to likes the people there, but he isn’t liked by the people (exemplified in part where someone throws an egg at him); apparently has some sort of sentimentality for living in Junkertown even if no one likes him

Scrumbo Wigley is a ridiculous name.

Scrumbo Wigley’s name & someone throwing an egg at Junkrat = cartoonish tone of the scene

Roadhog taps Junkrat on the shoulder to get his attention -> kind of a light touch from Roadhog which is cute to me, but tbh it’s probably meant to just shift the attention of the scene lmao

Page 3

Idk why “look” was italicized here, it felt kind of unnecessary since “gave him a look” already means “gave someone an irritated look.” (I’m just an italics hater in general tho dslfksdjfsd)

Junkertown has a premium sausage stand

The Outback Bill bit kind of emphasized the cartoonishness of the scene again; entire listing of the crimes bit intended as humorous. (Outback Bill part in particular felt so random to me, like trying to do an “avatar cabbages guy” bit in like 3 sentences)

Outback Bill crime suggests Junkrat and Roadhog blew up some people for fun (I guess the sausage stand was their target but some customers also got blown up; unclear if just injured or killed, but given the intended humor in the scene it’s probably not supposed to be anything serious)

Cartoony tone makes it feel kinda wild that they’re getting executed but I guess it’s more of a Colosseum battle than an execution

Junkrat is apparently not intimidated by Junker Queen given that he banters with her about her not wanting to fight them herself (though later he’s scared of her when she comes down to the battlefield thing so maybe that was just fake confidence.)

Junker Queen apparently finds Junkrat and Roadhog funny/entertaining (biscuit incident) which tbh makes it all the more random to me that they’re getting executed imo

This doesn’t exactly work tonally imo (again, hard to tell if there’s any gravity to this battle or if it’s just supposed to be wacky silly) but Junkrat getting pissy and saying “unbelievable” like a disappointed grandma about having to fight Wrecking Ball is pretty funny

Footnote on this page says that city factions (demolitionist, wrecker, etc) apparently work together or something I guess. Not really sure what they’re trying to suggest with this footnote; I guess it emphasizes the idea of Junkertown being self-sufficient or something. Or that they’re all destructive and violent, but like. In a community-building way.

Page 4

Roadhog pulls Junkrat out of danger (this isn’t new, he did this in Going Legit)

Junkrat eagerly joining in with the bantering/heckling conversation (?) in the crowd -> emphasizes his chatty/friendly personality, wants to make friends

Junkrat largely unaware of what Roadhog does during combat & focuses more on himself; incorporates Roadhog into his plans when it’s convenient for him; possible that it usually works out/Roadhog usually does what Junkrat asks given that it seems to be a regular occurrence (“Roadhog, catch me!” happens at the end of the story too)

Junkrat uses “wicker basket” as a swear. (???????) Again, this kind of just highlights the cartoonish/silly tone of the story

Page 5

Wrecking Ball’s reveal is also very cartoonish/unserious. Personally I don’t really know what to do with Wrecking Ball’s reveal in this story; it’s kind of not cohesive imo but I guess it’s sillay which seems to be the main goal of the story so it’s like fine I guess

Junkrat saying “It’s alright, Roadhog!” is another instance of him projecting his fear onto Roadhog and comforting himself in the guise of comforting Roadhog

Idk I’m not an action story reader (or a reader at all LMAO I never read) but the action feels kind of slow paced. Maybe because it keeps getting interrupted by jokey cartoonish things

Writing kind of too literal at times for my taste (eg: “He threw the grenade.” -> not much rising tension to this moment, almost seems like he does this casually. For example maybe there could’ve been a tense moment between the heckling from the crowd messing with Junkrat’s confidence or something (knowing that he seems to value the approval of people in Junkertown or is at least affectionate to them) but idk the scene ended up feeling very literally like “the crowd chanted -> Wrecking ball started spinning -> Junkrat aimed at Wrecking Ball -> Junkrat threw the grenade” without much investment)

Outback Bill gag happens again on this page (more cartoonish tone) but like he’s not bothered by it so good for him I guess

Junkrat’s scared of Junker Queen on this page; wasn’t much explicit indication of his worries or fears about Junker Queen before this (mostly just the implicit stuff with him projecting onto Roadhog which was very light), so idk to me this felt kind of out of nowhere for him to be explicitly scared especially since he bantered with her earlier. There’s also been like very little feeling of gravity through the whole thing (see: cartoonish moments) so it was hard for me to feel scared with him.

Apparently no one cares about Junkrat’s treasure. This suggests that Junkrat hires Roadhog just to protect him from the Queen’s men who want him dead since he’s a troublemaker. Tbh this is totally at odds with Wasted Land, where the Queen’s men are threatening him to give his treasure to them or something. Personally I think it’s just better drama for Junkrat to be wanted by the Queen and other greedy people in Junkertown for his treasure, with that being the main reason he hires Roadhog. Plus I think it just kind of ties in with his apparent theme of wanting to be liked by people: there’s something interesting to the notion of a guy that no one likes or wants to be around being literally wanted/coveted for his treasure

Junkrat’s kind of hurt when the crowd groans at him in annoyance but acts proud about it; suggests he’s not oblivious to people’s opinions of him and does get bothered when people find him annoying and don’t like him

Page 6

Crowd kind of feels like a studio audience or something at times LMAO kinda just emphasizes the cartoony/silly tone of the story

The reason given for Junkrat finding the final door is kinda wild lmao like he just fell in from holes in the roof??? Guess it’s again just supposed to emphasize his ~zany nature~. Either that or he like maneuvered his way in like a rat, but the phrasing makes it kind of unclear exactly what he did imo.

Junkrat’s “saucy wink” at Junker Queen meant to emphasize the importance of his eye and also make him flirt with Junker Queen I guess

“The crowd considered this” again kind of literal writing; I guess here it’s especially supposed to be snappy comedy but idk if it was working for me

There’s an abrupt free-for-all for Junkrat’s eye, which is kind of at odds with earlier where no one seemed to want or care about Junkrat’s treasure. I guess they’re all that curious to know what’s behind the final door? Idk the free-for-all would make more sense if the previous part about no one caring about Junkrat’s treasure wasn’t included.

Point of the free-for-all idea here that Junkrat revealing his treasure was supposed to be something he used to get the upper hand, but instead became something that gave him the lower hand (?); aka shows Junkrat is not able to read the room, is poor at manipulating/negotiating, and is always flubbing things

Page 7 (last page I read carefully)

“I thought you were gonna say idiot” -> suggests Junkrat values Roadhog’s opinion of him, insecure about himself (overcompensates when he suggests “Junkrat you’re a genius?” because he’s insecure)

Junker Queen saves Junkrat from a knife, so I guess his plan to reveal his treasure to Junker Queen did kind of work as leverage to get her on his side

 Junkrat never told Roadhog what his treasure is or where it is; not sure what’s meant to be implied here, it’s kind of weird that he’d never tell Roadhog especially since this story emphasizes Junkrat being a blabbermouth. It’s possible that he was saving the details specifically for a situation like this so he could use it to his advantage. Initially I thought maybe Roadhog said he didn’t know either as a lie (because he doesn’t trust Junker Queen) or because he forgot (suggesting he doesn’t actually care much about Junkrat’s treasure), but the end of the story makes it seem like he really just didn’t know anything about the treasure.

Roadhog agreeing about looking forward to Junkrat dying was kind of mean-spirited imo LMAO like I guess supposed to be just a joke given the overall cartoony tone of this story + the unserious atmosphere it’s created surrounding execution, and I usually don’t mind when Roadhog’s kind of an asshole to Junkrat, but that was kind of out of pocket for me lskfjldsf

Other misc notes:

2nd half of the story is kind of action-heavy (since there’s no heckling from the crowd anymore) which is kind of at odds with the cartoony tone of the first half imo.

Specific detail I liked: the idea that Junkrat projects his fears/worries/nervousness/etc onto how he interprets Roadhog and that he talks “Roadhog” through his “worries” as a way for him to verbalize his own fears and work through them. Basically this quirk allows him to believe he’s still a cocky, self-confident person when he actually has worries or insecurities. (Like “These aren’t MY problems or worries, they’re Roadhog’s!” but like they’re clearly his.) I guess it is kind of a selfish reading of Junkrat in that it seems like he doesn’t really understand Roadhog but idk for me I think it makes sense for him to be kind of a self-centered person most of the time.

I also kinda liked Junkrat being chatty with some people in the crowd and him being sentimental for Junkertown and its people. Honestly all the details I liked were so minor; I kind of wish they were somehow expanded on a little more. Especially think there could have been a lot more tension between the crowd & Junkrat’s desire to be liked or whatever vs how that might affect (and distract) him in combat. I mean it was literally a crowd, they could have very explicitly made him try (and probably fail) to be a crowd-pleaser. (Like there was a little of this but not much and not in a way that I found super compelling while reading. imo)

I think the main thing for me is that the writing was very straightforward or literal so most of the time was spent describing things that were literally happening instead of writing with a particular theme or goal in mind. Unfortunately I don’t really have a ton of examples of what I mean so. Whatever LMAO;; I think this kind of story just isn’t really my taste in the first place since I like moody/introspective stuff more than combat-heavy stuff. The lightheartedness was like fine I guess but I did feel like it was frequently awkward when couched between the combat scenes. Again I don’t have examples/evidence of this off the top of my head so I may be totally off here but the writing style felt a bit like describing an action movie or cinematic rather than being a work that utilizes writing to portray action scenes. That’s not really a big deal to me because I’m not expecting like amazing writing from Overwatch (it’s primarily a fps not prestige literature) but idk maybe it would’ve worked better for me if it was animated or a comic or something.

Sorry for the Junkrat-heavy notes; the story was mostly from Junkrat’s POV in a way so it was easier to write notes about him than other characters. maybe I'll have more to say about other stuff when/if I try to reread the last couple pages of the story.

Anyway thanks for reading if you did! Hopefully it was interesting to someone!;;;;;

[bloomed-night-flower]

Something Stupid

I feel bad I haven’t finished my bigger works so heres this 😽

know I stand in line

The light spring breeze blows by as they stand in line for some candied fruit (tanghulu). Though something manages to distract them, a funny looking person was stuffing their face with the crystalized fruits. They stifled back a laugh as their cheeks seemed to puff out with all the hardened fruits within their mouth.

“umm, excuse me you’re holding up the line.”

The person snapped out of their thoughts as the worker reminded them they were in line, and with quick purchase they ordered a grape tanghulu and they quickly made their way towards the stranger they were eyeing at.

Until you think you have the time

To spend an evening with me

And if we go some place to dance

As the rain dripped down slowly you had grabbed hold of their hand as you dragged them into the rain, now both of your guys clothed soaked and weighed down from the rain that had soaked into your guys clothes. You hold his dominant tightly in the opposite of his hand as you twirl him around and let out tiny bits of laughter and he soon joined in with your laughter.

I know that there's a chance

You won't be leaving with me

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place

And have a drink or two

Sitting in on a chair behind an island placed inside a kitchen as you made (p/h/d) [preferred hot drink] for the two of you to enjoy together. Towels were placed under both of your guy’s wet hair as the towel soaked up the water droplets. Both in comfortable clothing that would almost lul you two sleep from the softness. 

And then I go and spoil it all

Their heartbeat starts to pick up a beat as they stare lovingly at you while you are distracted making their drinks. If only they can say those three words, but isn’t that stupid thinking? What would they do if you said you don’t love them back, ‘I wish I could say the words I want to express towards you…’

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

“I love you, Y/n..” All you did was laugh and think as if it was a funny joke, you didn’t want to think the words they spoke were true. Why would they be? What if they’re trying to play with your heart like the last person?

I can see it in your eyes

That you despise the same old lies

You heard the night before

And though it's just a line to you

For me it's true

‘Please, just accept my love. I’m not lying, I love you from the moon to- no scratch that,I love you like how the waves move for the moon.’

And never seemed so right before

I practice every day

To find some clever lines to say

To make the meaning come true

But then I think I'll wait

Until the evening gets late

And I'm alone with you

The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The aquarium lights lit up the glass tanks filled with variants of different sea animals as you two strolled quietly along. Both of you exit outside to the outdoor area of the aquarium where more land like sea animals rested. Though the stars shone beautifully as it was slowly being blanketed with the dark and mix of stars and a crescent moon.

The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

‘I love you’

The time is right, your perfume fills my head

The stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue

And then I go and spoil it all

By saying somethin' stupid like, "I love you"

‘I love you’

‘I love you’

‘I love you’

“I love you, Y/n. I’m not joking so please tell me, do you love me back?”

Characters?

Deuce,Cater, Jack, Jamil, Epel, Malleus, Silver (Twst)

Chifuyu, Mitsuya, Angry, Shinchiro,Kakucho, Rindou,Baji, Senju (Trv [I prob forgot a lot of characters])

(Any other characters you favor!)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Firstly, THE COMMENTS ON THE TEXT CONVIS POST!!! I'M PISSING 😭😭 He's so desparate, I can see him killing another assassin and stealing his phone just to text us to unblock him

About giivng Mandy a sibling, I think Tan would consider it since he'll want her to have someone like he has Lem

Also, Mandy swearing because she accidently heard Tan swear once?

You said his look can be intimitating, even if it's soft. Imagine we look away or hide in his shoulder, so he softly grabs our face to make us look at him. 🫠🫠

Buying him lolipops to replace a cig for when he can't smoke? And they're cherry flavor? :))

Sorry I'm always asking those things but have you thought about a backstory for us and Tan? I made one but I think it sounds kinda silly so I don't know if I should send it

I know I sound like a broken record since I already said this in like 3 already. I really do enjoy being back and writing to you, I was afraid my love for him was fading away, I didn't like any ideas I wrote in my notes and was overall pretty sad. (He was still on my mind, it's as if this man made himself a cozy room in my brain and is never leaving) I got sick in january so I had to stay at home and thought I might as well rewatch the movie. So many scenes and snarky remarks of him got me thinking "oh yeah that's why I fell in love with him". So now I'm here again. I love reading your response as well as the comments. 💗💗  Sorry for the ramble I wanted to get it off my chest

(Just wanted to ask, the next time your requests will be open, would you be ok with writing a small fic, like 700 words? If no that's completly fine !! I already saved a headcanon and small drabble for next time :)) Planning on sending more text convos this weekend

Also love your atj shirt. Might have to get a custom one for my bday <3 💺 anon

— right??? 😭😭😭 omg yes!! or even having to go out and get another sim card in order to text you. he probs has a stash of miscellaneous blocked ones piled somewhere

— he so would!! he would want her to have a best friend in sibling form. he wants for her to have someone she can talk to when older. and all those sibling bonding things

— she definitely has😭😭 I believe fuck is an easy one to say?? so that might be her first

— AAARDFGH !!! YES YEA YEAH YUP YEP

— super super cute!!! and cherry!! sneaky, I like it

— you know what, I actually haven’t. I prefer civilian readers, so it’s a little difficult bc being assassin would be easier to connect. but I have a concept idea of their relationship, but not how they met. don’t be daft, nothing you’ll send would be silly. you’re more than welcome to send it in if you’re comfortable. there’s no such thing as silly around here

— I really do as well!! it’s actually fun to talk to someone about him like this rather than myself all the time😭 awh!!! im glad you’re back into him now !! (and hope you’re feeling better now) never be sorry, thank you for sharing 💓💓

— they’re still open if you want to send something in, luckily been working through my inbox pretty fast so now I have a decent enough backlog in my drafts. and yes, ofc, that’s absolutely fine angel. looking forward to the text convos!! they were real fun

— AAAAH THANK YOU!! yes yes get one!! and happy birthday in advance if it’s coming up soon, if it is send in an ask so I can wish you a HBD💓

[daisychainsandbowties]

I really love this image you have of Ava, and I'm all here for it.

I'm imagining her with the Portuguese corps, working with the ground-based crew, dreaming, desperately, that she would get a dragon but also knowing she would never get one because of her disability.

But despite that, she still loves dragons and she's basically an expert on how to care for so many of them.

And then one day, she reads about the OCS and how their Admiral (Superion) has maybe a bad leg because of a battle and she still rides with a dragon (maybe in present time not anymore because she has important Admiral stuff to do and is always grounded). And then she finds out how Jillian invented/developed equipment to make it easier for Admiral Superion to ride her dragon.

So Ava's thinking, I have to go be part of the OCS and talk to Jillian. She quits her job at the Portuguese corps and just goes to where the OCS is stationed. Unfortunately, everybody's busy, so at first people even turn her away because she can't walk and they think she can't contribute anything to them. But she shows off her dragon knowledge, so it would be silly not to employ her.

At first she doesn't even get to work with the dragon crew. She knows of Shannon, Bea, Lilith, Mary, and Admiral Superion, but they don't know who she is. She also doesn't get a chance to talk to Jillian.

But yes, Mary sees her around, and she's intrigued by the wheelchair-bound kid who seems to know so much about dragons (maybe she even thinks, oh, a nerd like Bea, they'd probs get along), but then they have to go on a mission (the same one that Shannon and Halo doesn't come back from). So that's how Mary knew to let Ava take care of Halo's hatchling.

Then yes, oh, when Avernus imprints on Ava, Ava could hardly dare to believe it, that this little baby dragon that she told puns to when he was an egg has chosen her, above others, and will not accept anyone else. (Wait, Avernus is a 'he' right?)

And I love the idea of Ava working with Bea's dragon's crew at first to learn the ropes. I can imagine Bea's dragon being a bit more mischievous than Temeraire, so he/she loves Ava's jokes. And come on, Celestials love language, so the dragon absolutely adores this girl who makes language jokes. And it would be so jealous of Avernus once Ava can go ride with him.

I can also imagine Avernus loving Bea, because Bea can get on his wavelength the same way Bea can get on Ava's wavelength.

So their dragons will basically just be glaring jealously at each other because Avernus has Ava and Bea's dragon has Bea.

oh yeah i’m imagining ava working with the ground-crews in the Portuguese corps, delicately breaking the rules by talking to all the dragons ESPECIALLY foreign dragons. & one time she sees this gorgeous blue and brown Winchester; obviously a courier, and starts up a conversation. and ofc it’s Yasmine’s dragon and it’s an unusually smart Winchester so she comes out and sees ava trying to show her dragon how she can do a wheelie in her chair and talking about different ideas she has for rigs that would let her be on a dragon as part of the sharpshooters or a signal ensign or anything. & Yas comes over and ALSO talks to ava and she and her Winchester have that slightly authority-optional vibe that Yas gives off & she tells ava about Admiral Superion & how after her dragon died she was badly injured but now she has a midweight who lost her rider and they’re not cap/dragon but MS flies on her & they have a special harness. & jullian is a genius and she’s developing parachutes in case crew fall of their dragon and new harnesses & ‘i bet she could take a look at something for you. i’m headed back tomorrow, actually’ - squints at the sky - ‘oh, sorry, in three hours. but we can carry two, right?’ she winks at her dragon, ‘i mean, if you wanted to come with.’ & ava isn’t enlisted she’s just employed by the corps so she drops everything then & there. Yas gets a dressing down for it but she just shrugs & chews on her endless supply of liquorice sticks & says, ‘hey, my dragon likes you so i’ll say it was worth it.’ 

& ava kind of does just massively impress everyone with her knowledge of dragons & especially their biology. she doesn’t get assigned a crew (she’s on probation) but she assists the surgeons and kind of keeps a general eye on the welfare of the dragons. she sees Shan & Bea & Lil & Mary around and is enraptured by Halo because she’s kind of gold & purple & green & just absolutely gorgeous. Jillian is away for like several weeks and the harness master who is there tells her it’s impossible to fly a dragon with no leg mobility. but Mary has her ear to the ground & she sees thing girl deftly navigating around the dragons while they sleep in the courtyard and she brings them books and talks to them and asks them so many questions. & she’s thinking of getting bea to talk to someone who isn’t a dragon for once in her life but then yeah, mission happens. and when mary washes up half-crazed with grief she puts the egg into ava’s care and that’s that. 

Avernus is a ‘he’! He’s white and gold and has these circular striations on his wings, & totally almost breaks her chair trying to get on her lap after downing two goats hooves and all. gets blood all over her and ava is in love. & they are completely inseparable from the get-go like military protocol be damned Ava gets one of the other dragons to let them camp under his wing (an old heavyweight who just blinks slowly when people argue that it isn’t proper for a captain to sleep outside with their dragon). & then bea returns and she’s devestated and she finds ava teaching her dragon curse-words she learned from international ground-crews. and Jillian works out a harness and they spend weeks and weeks trialing them and when Avernus can take a passenger they get Ava on him and she fucking flies, & bea kind of realises then that this girl is special. that she loves dragons. & bea’s dragon loves her too, which isn’t surprising considering the way that ava has ‘bolstered her vocabulary’ (bea’s dragon is a ‘she’) and asks beatrice like week two if they can ‘have’ ava and beatrice has to explain that ava is going to be a captain. 

& yeah. Ava is kind of immediately taken by this carefully controlled girl who reads in Chinese to her dragon and practices fencing while all the dragons look on and clock their claws together. who looks thoughtful when ava suggests attaching sabres to her chair and goes and gifts her a pistol that she got from her father which has gold lettering and a weird lacquer finish and bea says ‘that’ll chip the first time it sees action, but the mechanism is good. oh, can you shoot? would you allow me to teach you?’ & it takes Ava waaay too long to answer because heart eyes and nobody every bothered to teach her to shoot but she’s fantastic at it. & both dragons dislike 1. that the other dragon has their second favourite human and 2. that people are rude to them, calling bea a ‘legacy handler’ and ava a mistake & together they’re insufferable and basically conspire to try and make ava and bea fall in love, as if they need meddling dragons to help them do that.