#fluff I guess

[clairewritesfanfics]

we all know that the mark variants are basically a whole red flag parade, but what about a reader who loves them all the same and has a legitimately healthy, green flag relationship with their respective evil marks.

reader could be an actual, powerless human civilian with a 9 to 5 job who legit does not care, or a mad scientist who is willing to exploit anyone who isn't their mark, or a power-hungry manipulator who wants to rule the whole universe with their beloved.

it doesn't matter. you two love each other and the world can burn while you dance on its grave.

Love was once a crazy dream Now it's my new evil scheme And I'm as happy as can be!

omni-mark, head cap, viltrumite, no goggles

It's the age-old story how an evil boy meets an evil girl We got a love strong enough to rule the whole wide world

TARGET, sinister

We both maniacally laugh at all the same stuff I found my other half, yes

MOHAWK, sinister, shiesty, NO GOGGLES

author's note: in all seriousness, there is an interesting ethical debate to be had in supporting the person you promised to love or immediately shunning them for their choices. more than just romance, there is also the question about "devotion to a cause" and a "whatever it takes" philosophy when it comes to fulfilling certain vows. i forgot what these topics are though. if you guys know any good articles or books that explore these concepts, i'd appreciate a recommendation.

[justevelynnnn]

“Mustard & Ketchup”

Summary: you’re a runaway mutant and you need a place to stay. you find one but is it worth the chaos?

Warnings: mentions of blood and knives, profanity, written with fem!reader in mind but could be gender neutral or male iyw

A/N: This has been in my drafts for weeks so I gotta get it out before the dust collects on it💀 not really proofread tbh..

You stared at the paper in you hand titled in big letters “Roomate needed” and sighed.

You were a mutant who couch surfed after running away from home. Cue typical tragic backstory stuff. Anyways, the last person found out what you were and you had to bounce. Now you needed a place to stay for cheap and quick. You had a job at some bar (that was a secret mutant friendly space) but it couldn’t really pay bills, let alone rent.

So after work one day, when you saw a roommate need flyer you grabbed it immediately. Under the title was an odd drawing of a ketchup bottle and a mustard bottle done in crayon with some red guy in the corner waving. Then under that was the following(also in crayon) : roomate needed asap. rent’s under $300. must be ok with dogs, blind old people, claws and blood. (Like lots of blood)

You sighed. It’s been a week on streets and sleeping on cold benches and that rent was enticing. Whoever made the flyer though was definitely either a child or someone extremely questionable but you definitely weren’t in any spot to be picky right now. Even though you were slightly turned away by the emphasis of “being ok with blood” (what the hell could that even mean!?!) Maybe you can save up while there and hopefully move out soon.

The address was at the bottom of the paper so you decided you’ll stop by in the morning.

The apartment actually wasn’t too far from the bar and the bench you claimed for the week was close to the bar also so after doing a quick freshing up in the bar bathroom you made your way to the apartment. It was decent enough…nothing shady..but nothing special either. The second you got to the door you heard screaming and a dog barking. Was this really the place?

Just when you were about to turn around and rethink this whole thing the door flung open. You gasped as a man with….spotted skin?? stood at the door with a knife stuck in the side of his head. He was bald and actually kinda tall? Notably, he also wore pink boxers paired with a my little pony shirt. No socks. Very odd sight to see and take in.

��Sorry, I think I have the wrong-“ you started but the man looked down at you holding the flyer and immediately exclaimed, “Oh! Logan! Someone’s seen one of the flyers I made! Oh, do come on in we were just having a friendly fight…”

All you could muster was, “Friendly?” As you glanced at the knife and blood in his shirt. Distracted, he successfully ushered you in the door as you were soon met with a small, old looking dog with its tongue hanging out. It barked at you and you jumped slightly.

“Oh, don’t mind her…he’s as sweet as pie. Well, maybe some really old and hairy pie but still sweet regardless.” The man said as he closed the door. “I’m Wade by the way.”

You smiled at the dog but soon turned to protest being in the apartment. It was quite the scene. You knew it was at least more than one person living here, not only because you heard arguing before the door opened but because of all the stuff. I mean, no way this was all him? Right?

“Hey, so, you know what…I dunno about all this…I mean..wow..” You looked around and soon noticed more blood, clothes everywhere, multiple bottles of alcohol , definitely a lot of knifes and..swords..? Half lit cigars? And why does the couch have 3 large claw marks in them? Surely, it couldn’t have been this dog.

Was that stuffed unicorn?

Wade noticed you concerned and sighed.

“You know this place was a lot neater a week ago, but let’s just say I recently adopted an alcohol addicted wolverine so everything has gone to shit. I mean, look at my head!” The man dramatically pointed to the knife. “He did this!”

You just laughed and backed up. Okay, now it’s time to really get the hell out. Of course, before you could move or even reply, soon entered another character. You watched a gruff, also taller but older looking man walk out. He was, too, covered with splats of blood.

“Speak of the devil. Hey, you got an apology yet, wolvie? Hm? Go on.” Wade crossed his arms and glared at the other man but the man just stared at you in confusion.

“Wade, who the fuck is this?”

Oh, this was awkward.

“I told you, someone saw our flyer! You never listen! Y’know, I’m starting to want a divorce!”

“Our flyer??”

“Well, I told you I was making one! Again, you don’t listen! You’re not being very mindful or demure right now!”

“What??????” Cue a head tilt which you found sightly amusing. “What the fuck are you talking about-….”

You decided to interrupt. “Um..yeah so if it’s gonna be a problem I can go….”

You started moving towards the door but Wade stopped you and said, “Oh, no no no..don’t let this meanie beanie weenie scare you away. This monster. This..this drunk!” Wade glared at him as the man rolled his eyes and looked away. “You’re welcomed to the family as of right freaking now!.”

The older man sighed and silently cursed as Wade sat you on the couch.

“Well, I don’t have anything other than this paper I guess..oh and my wallet and phone.” You decided you should also tell them the biggest secret you normally keep from others. That you were a mutant. Luckily for you, it was more hidden but it scared the hell out of the last person you stayed with so you wanted to get it out the way now. “Um…I should have you know, since my other folks didn’t like that i suprised them.. that I am a…y’know..”

You trailed off hoping he would get it but you quickly got your answer when Wade shouted, “A mutant!”

The old man glanced at you for a second as you fearfully watched their reactions but when the older man didn’t move and Wade hugged you,rather tightly also, you felt some relief.

“Me, too girlfriend…actually us two! It’s so nice to have another mutant friend. This whole thing is playing out just like my fan-fiction!”

“Us?” You asked ignoring the odd comment he made at the end.

“Means me.” The older man spoke up. “Name’s Logan.”

He waved once and walked up to Wade.

Logan asked Wade if he could speak alone and Wade told you to stay put as they went into another room. As you heard some back and forth going on you couldn’t help but wonder what mutations they could have. Maybe that explains Wades skin? And the fact he had a nice in his head, even now still, that didn’t seem to bother him. At first you just ruled him out as crazy but this makes sense too.

You were left alone for 5 minutes until Wade came back out.

“Okay, so, here’s the deal. Logan is being a big fat baby but I say you can stay on the account this is my place. We definitely need some extra hands around here so you can just stay on the couch. All the beds are taken right now unless you wanna share with me or Wolvie. And umm, do you already have a job?”

“Well, I work at the bar not to far from here…” You calmly replied.

Wade nodded “Great! Got another alcohol fan here, you’ll get along great with Mr. buns of steel in no time! He love alcohol, any kind, including the rubbing kind!”

Logan walked out the room again but immediately told Wade to “Shut the hell up.”.

“What?! It’s true! You do have buns of steel! And i literally saw you drink that rubbing alcohol-!”

Logan rolled his eyes again, sighing heavily as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and sat in an armchair, turning on the tv.

You and Wade went over the rent, he mentioned the other resident, some older kind lady, and also explained when the trash comes. He kind of went over his lore and why he called a man a wolverine but it was all hard to follow.

“Wait, he’s an X-Man? Like comic book X-Man?” You said when Wade brought up Logan’s past.

“Oh, yes except it’s real in his universe and many others.. He’s actually the worst one but that’s just between you and me. However, he kinda makes up for it as he’s real good with those claws….” Wade winks but you can only tilt your head.

“God..-“ Logan grumbled as he finished the bottle. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not unless you beg for it.” Wade quickly replied but even quicker added, “No homo. Actually, full homo.”

Logan just stared in annoyance and focused back on the tv, shaking his head.

“Ok, well…why the ketchup and mustard on the flyer?”

“Oh, I just call us that. Cute little pet names.. yeah.. I’ll call him cutie patootie and he’ll call me a dumbass.” Wade sighed like he was reflecting on good times while Logan laughed out once. Wade soon adds, “I’m ketchup cause my suits red and I’m the more popular, more loved “condiment” anddd Logan is mustard because he can be more bitter and not as popular..I mean ask anyone reading this and most people would say they like ketchup more it’s a fact!”

Right after Wade finishes talking Logan throws a book at Wade’s head barking at him to shut up yet again.

“…We have fun here.”

“I see.” You looked around again at the chaos as Wade rubs his head and pouts at Logan. Wade asked if you could help clean this mess up. And any other future messes.. He said you could pay a bit less on rent if you did. You just agreed, having cleaned up worse at the bar.

You knew it was going to take some getting used to but you could make it work. On the bright side, you some what enjoyed Wade’s odd behavior. You wondered however, if Logan liked you but then again that didn’t matter either. You watched as the dog walked up to you, wanting to be picked up.

“Oh, look, it’s like she chose you! Like how beginning Pokémon chose their trainers…or, is it the other way around?”

You laughed as you picked up the dog.

“Well, thanks for letting me stay here.” You began petting the dog on your lap. “Don’t worry about me being here forever, I’m gonna try to save up and maybe give it take in 6 months I’ll be out your….um”

“Hair? Ha! It’s ok sweetheart, no offense. But you don’t have to worry about rushing out, I like you already and I’m sure Wolvie here does too right?”

Logan chugged the last bit of the bottle and just stared at Wade and you, sighing. With Logan’s face unreadable, Wade just laughed and said, “Give him time, most Wolverines start this way but they warm up in a few days at most a couple weeks….”

You just nodded like you understood and relaxed into the couch taking in your surroundings. Wade and Logan started to go back and forth again but you ended up tuning them out. Yup, this is your new life. Was it worth it?

You watched another knife fly in the air, barely missing you.

Maybe.

[bigassmoonchild]

can we get soap and ghosts reaction to their partner drinking iron bru { the drink of the gods}

i honest to god had no clue what this was. i love google to death, she's a life saver sometimes.

maple syrup might be updated tonight, i still don't feel amazing from my sickness and have a pretty good idea for another story i'm building up ;)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

he looked closely at the drink sat on the table. it was brightly colored, fizzy. simon never really drank fizzy drinks, let alone anything overtly sweet. he was more of the bitter type of man, but he didn't mind a bit of a sweeter tea every now and again.

watching as you walked in, you grabbed it and took a quick swig. he stared, eyes furrowed just slightly as he watched you drink it. 'hell is that?' he asked and you spun the drink around for him to see the name. 'doesn't answer my question,' he said and you shrugged.

'saw it in the store the other day, figured i don't mind orange drinks so i might as well try it,' you answered, gesturing it towards him. 'want a swig?' shaking his head, simon leaned away, still looking at it like it took his favorite balaclava.

you rolled your eyes, taking another quick sip of it. 'what's it taste like?' he asked.

'orange,' you answered simply. quite honestly (and from my limited research), it tasted like how you'd image orange would taste. maybe not entirely, but it was decent enough for you to not complain.

simon gave you a side eye. 'the fruit?' you shook your head. 'christ, you're telling me it just tastes orange?' you gave a short laugh, shaking your head at him. 'soap showed you it?' again, you shook your head.

'i grabbed it m'self, but i did see soap drinking it not too long ago. got curious,' you answered. simon gave you a bemused look, looking away from you as he stood to make tea.

'fizzy drinks are far too sweet,' he huffed.

'you say that like you wouldn't consider yourself a cocktail man,'

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish:

johnny hadn't thought much of it. he himself drank it plenty enough, but he hadn't considered anyone else on the squad would drink it at all. everyone always considered what they ate and drank, but he enjoyed it once in a while. like a taste of childhood.

when he saw you drinking it, he had to take a double take. you'd been talking with price, about whatever it was you talked about. he'd nearly walked completely around the corner before spinning himself around and walking back.

'and where'd y'get that from?' he asked you, watching as you glanced up at him before looking down at the drink in your hand. you shrugged, giving a little hand gesture before trying to go back to your conversation.

moving to grab the drink from you, you pulled it back and looked offended. 'don't y'know not to take my drink? thought the last time you tried had taught you well enough,' and he gave a laugh. you'd bitten him, and he'd been left bruised for a few days afterwards.

nodding towards it, 'seriously,' he started. 'where'd you get that? diddnae think anyone else really drank it,' and you gave another faint shrug.

'really just grabbed something from the fridge in our main room, hadn't been expecting this but i figured i'd just bite the bullet and drink it,' you answered quickly. he nodded slowly, watching as you took another careful drink from it.

you looked at him weirdly again, slightly confused. 'how'd'ya like it?' he asked. you nodded faintly.

'not too upset, wasn't tasting exactly how i'd expected, but it's still pretty good,' you said. he gave you a little nod and smirk before continuing his way on.

johnny did not, for the life of him, remember what the hell he'd been intending to do.

[peppymintdreams]

Wrap Me in Plastic

Asirel Cain x Pet

The music played softly in the background—a modern, pulsing rhythm that seemed at odds with the estate’s timeless elegance. Yet, Asirel had allowed it, if only because he found it amusing to watch Pet move to the beat as they tidied the expansive room.

“You know,” Asirel’s voice cut through the music, smooth and teasing, “you almost look like you belong here when you’re busy like that.”

Pet paused mid-motion, glancing over at him. Asirel lounged on the velvet chaise, one leg draped over the other, a glass of something expensive in his hand. His blonde hair was perfectly in place, his gaze sharp and calculating as always.

“Thank you, Master,” Pet murmured, unsure if it was meant as a compliment or something else.

Asirel tilted his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, don’t thank me yet. I’m merely observing.” He took a slow sip from his glass, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make Pet shift uncomfortably.

“Tell me, Pet,” he continued, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to be… perfected?”

Pet blinked, unsure how to respond. “Perfected, Master?”

He rose from the chaise with the grace of a predator, closing the distance between them in a few unhurried steps. “Yes. Molded. Shaped into something flawless.” His fingers brushed against Pet’s chin, tilting their face up so their eyes met. “Like a doll.”

Pet’s breath hitched at the contact, their heart racing. “I… I don’t know, Master.”

Asirel’s smirk deepened. “No?” His thumb traced the line of their jaw, cold and commanding. “You wouldn’t like to be wrapped in silk, adorned in the finest things, made into something that others would envy? Something they could only dream of touching?”

The music pulsed around them, the beat syncopating with the tension in the room.

“I—” Pet hesitated, the words caught in their throat.

Asirel’s grip tightened just slightly, a subtle reminder of the control he wielded over them. “I think you would.” His voice dropped to a low murmur, each word deliberate. “After all, you crave attention, don’t you? My attention.”

Pet swallowed hard. “Yes, Master.”

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “Good.” He released their chin, but not before trailing his fingers down their neck, leaving a shiver in their wake. “Because I intend to make you perfect, Pet. Every flaw, every imperfection… gone. You’ll be exactly what I want.”

The words sent a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through Pet. They had always known Asirel’s power over them was absolute, but tonight it felt different—intimate, in a way that left them breathless.

“Do you trust me, Pet?” Asirel asked, his voice soft but demanding an answer.

“Yes, Master,” they whispered, without hesitation.

“Good.” His smile was wicked, the kind that promised both pleasure and peril. “Then let’s begin.”

He gestured toward a nearby wardrobe, its doors open to reveal an array of finely tailored clothing, all in pristine condition. “Choose something. Something that speaks of elegance, of submission.”

Pet obeyed, their hands trembling slightly as they sifted through the luxurious fabrics. Finally, they selected a sleek black ensemble—simple yet refined, something they knew would please him.

Asirel watched with a critical eye as they changed, his gaze never leaving them. When they were finished, he stepped forward, adjusting the collar with a precision born of perfectionism.

“Lovely,” he murmured, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “Now, stand still.”

Pet complied, their body tense with anticipation as Asirel circled them, inspecting every detail. “Flawless,” he said finally, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. “Just as I knew you could be.”

The music continued to play, the beat echoing in the background like a heartbeat. Asirel took Pet’s hand, leading them toward the large mirror that dominated one wall of the room.

“Look,” he commanded softly.

Pet gazed at their reflection, seeing themselves through Asirel’s eyes—polished, elegant, and entirely his.

“Do you see it now?” Asirel’s voice was a whisper in their ear. “The potential you have when you let me mold you? When you let me… wrap you in perfection?”

“Yes, Master,” Pet whispered, their reflection staring back with wide, captivated eyes.

His hand slid down their arm, a touch that was both possessive and reassuring. “Good. Remember this moment, Pet. You belong to me, and I will make you into something the world can only dream of.”

The song reached its crescendo, the music enveloping them in its hypnotic rhythm.

Asirel’s lips brushed against their ear, his voice a soft, velvety command. “Now, dance for me.”

Pet obeyed without question, their movements fluid and graceful, each step a testament to the control he had over them.

And as they moved to the music, Asirel watched with a mixture of pride and amusement, knowing that in this moment, they were exactly as he wanted them to be—his perfect creation, wrapped in his power, and bound by their own desire for his approval.

A masterpiece in the making.

I based this story off a post I song where someone compared Sakuverse characters to songs I forgot who @ them if you know who they are

[sp00kycrumpet]

When Our Paths Cross Again. (Part One)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: Soft!Joel; pre-outbeak up till end of Season 1; no use of y/n; sometimes Ellie is the adult in the situation

Warnings: swearing; character death; spoilers (if you haven't watched the series/played the game)

Word count; 7,259 out of 22,020

Will also be posted on my AO3

Notes: This is the first TLOU fic I've finished (I've got a bunch half written) so I hope you enjoy it ㅠ.ㅠ imsonervousomg

"You should ask her out." Joel almost choked on his burger, eyes wide as he stared at his too confident daughter. He swallowed his food and watched her.

"Excuse me?" Sarah just grinned, leaning forward with her elbows on the table like they were sharing a secret.

"The waitress. You keep watchin' her and she does it to you. I've seen enough mushy romance movies to know how this goes. You just gotta make that move!" Joel hushed Sarah as you came over to their table with refills of their drinks. Sarah and Joel were practically regulars at the restaurant; sometimes accompanied by Tommy and you always convinced others to let you wait their table. You insisted it was because Sarah reminded you of your little sister, but in reality it was mainly because of her father. Joel Miller was a handsome man, broad shouldered and warm; and that southern accent melted your heart.

At first Sarah had been shy but the more they came, the more she opened up. She made you Christmas cards and birthday cards once she learned when your birthday was - she even made you a friendship bracelet one year with hers and your initials in beads on it. She presented it with a big grin and showed you hers that matched. She always greeted you with a big smile and a hug. Joel would smile warmly, amused Sarah's best friend was a woman old enough to be her mother. It amused you too but after you learnt Joel was solo parenting, you could sort of understand why Sarah had gotten so attached to you in a sisterly way. He sometimes came alone to get take out for him and Sarah, making small talk with you while waiting for his food. You learnt his favourite movies were the cheesy Curtis and Viper ones, he played guitar and worked as a contractor with Tommy. He played it carefully with you but would sneak little tidbits of information out now and then. You would always greet him with a smile that made his chest feel funny and would sneak your staff discount onto his order. You definitely heard Sarah trying to convince her father to ask you out but pretended not to as you chatted with her about an album she'd recommended to you the week before. You could feel Joel's eyes on you and you eventually turned to him and gave him one of those heartstopping smiles that made his brain turn to mush. Once you left them, Sarah turned to Joel again with a pointed look.

"See!! You get that gross look on your face whenever she smiles at you. C'mon dad, how am I supposed to start datin' if you don't date!" She whined, Joel frowning a little.

"You wanna start datin'?" Now it was Sarah's turn to blush and change the topic quickly. Joel laughed, a rich sound that you heard from your place cleaning a table nearby.

An hour before the end of your early shift a week later, Sarah came in with a look of determination on her face. You put the cloth down you'd been using and headed over.

"Hey Sarah, you okay?" She blinked up at you and a grin pulled instantly over her lips.

"Yes! I was lookin' for you!! You said before that you bake, right?" You laughed a little, surprised by the sudden question.

"Sometimes, yeah. Not to brag but my friends say my raspberry filled cupcakes are the best." Sarah clapped her hands together.

"It's my dad's birthday next week, do…you think you could make him a cupcake? Since I know he'll forget to get a cake." You tilted your head slightly, watching the young girl before you nodded.

"I don't see why not. I'll make one for each of you." Sarah nodded, rummaging in her backpack for her schoolbook. She scribbled down the date and her phone number in case you needed her.

"I'll come by after school on his birthday and pick them up if that's okay? I'll pay you with my allowance." You waved one hand.

"Oh come on, I'm not going to charge you! I enjoy baking and why not for my best friend!" You grinned at her, Sarah gasped and thanked you repeatedly before wrapping you in a tight hug. She darted out of the restaurant when Tommy pulled up outside to pick her up, apparently in on the plan. You just shook your head and got back to work, planning out how you'd make them the best damn cupcakes you'd ever made in your life.

—

Letting himself in the house a little after eight, Joel felt exhaustion pulling at his bones. He could smell the pizza Sarah had ordered for them as he kicked his boots off and padded through to the living room where his daughter sat. Two large pizzas on the coffee table and a giant bottle of cola.

"You're gonna make me fat kiddo." He teased as he eased himself down to sit beside her, leaning to kiss the top of her head. Sarah just waved one hand.

"Sometimes we just gotta indulge in the nice stuff!" She grinned, picking up a slice of pizza and taking a bite as she sank comfortably beside him, watching the tv as they ate. She eyed her dad quietly for a moment between slices of pizza before making a comment.

"I mean… if you're worried about your weight then you won't want the super special dessert I got for you." Joel perked one eyebrow.

"Now where'd you get money for all this?" Sarah just grinned, rolling a shoulder. Tommy had funded this little experiment; wanting to help encourage his brother to grow a pair and ask out the waitress he constantly swooned over.

"I got myself a high payin' fancy job. But it's super top secret so I can't tell you what it is." She glanced at Joel and grinned, Joel just nodding.

"Oh good. The mortgage can go in your name now then."

"Nah they'd know I told you and I can't risk that." She nodded solemnly, pausing for dramatic effect before sighing and eating some more pizza. Joel laughed, he loved his daughters insane imagination and made a mental note to thank Tommy for giving her pizza money.

Once the pizza was done, Joel gathered up any leftovers and took them through to the kitchen. Joel placed the slices into a container then turned to open the fridge. There on the shelf at eye level sat a little white box. Curious, he opened it and inside sat two cupcakes with a decent amount of frosting, and a small card. He opened the envelope and couldn't help the little smile that worked over his lips.

Happy birthday Joel! I hope you like raspberry cupcakes~

Beneath that was a phone number written neatly beside your name along with the line "You miss 100% of the shots you don't have take." Joel read it over a few times before he headed back to the living room; cakes in one hand and card in the other.

"Somethin' tells me you had a lot to do with this. My birthday ain't till for another three weeks." Sarah just gave a pretend snore in answer, Joel snorting softly as he moved in to sit down. "Well damn, I guess I better eat both of these then." Immediately Sarah sprung back to life, holding out her hand for the cake. "Explain yourself missy." Sarah huffed a little, watching her dad.

"I just… want you to be happy, dad. I see how you two are around each other, it's like a romance movie. I ain't ever seen you smile the way you do at her. So I accidentally gave her the wrong date for your birthday so that maybe, just maybe, you'd take initiative and just go for it."

"I am happy baby, I have you." Sarah groaned and pushed at his knee with her foot.

"Gross. But, you need more. I know being a single dad is kinda your jam but, think how nice it would be for you to be able to date and be happy and be loved how you deserve." Joel tilted his head a little, watching Sarah.

"Now when did you learn to talk so much like an adult?" He offered over her cupcake, quietly taking a bite of his own as Sarah watched him.

"I really like her dad. I think she would make you happy." Sarah pressed again, Joel glancing at her before he nodded a little.

"I'll call her tomorrow." Sarah grinned excitedly, putting her cupcake aside in favour of wrapping her arms around Joel's neck in a tight hug.

"I was almost about to Parent Trap you, but Uncle Tommy insisted this was better."

—

You never used to keep your phone close by but after your little card to Joel, you couldn't help but keep checking it in case he called. Maybe Sarah was wrong and he wasn't wanting to ask you out despite her insistence when they thought you couldn't hear. Maybe you'd ruined your relationship with one of the best customers by taking such a blind leap. You chewed your lower lip as you peeked into your apron pocket for the millionth time to see if there was anything on your little phone. A few days passed and you figured maybe he wasn't going to call, you felt a little disheartened but decided to not let it ruin your week. You said goodbye to your collegues and headed out after your shift had finished, nuzzling your face into your hoodie with a muffled yawn. You were just turning to head towards the bus stop when you heard your name called, you looked up - expecting to see a coworker holding something you'd forgotten - but there in his usual khaki tshirt and dark jeans stood Joel. A hand raised in a wave and you had to stop yourself swoon as your eyes watched the muscles in his arm shift. You smiled, suddenly nervous as you turned to head back to him.

"Hey stranger, did you have a good birthday?" Joel presses his lips together before he gave a little smile.

"While your cupcakes were incredible, I gotta come clean. Sarah gave you the wrong date on purpose. My birthday is in a couple of weeks. But she has some romance movie script in her head for us." You felt your cheeks flush, Sarah wasn't the only one. You'd wondered many what if scenarios before, how it would feel to have those dark eyes looking at you so fondly, or what his hugs were like, or if his stubble would tickle when he kissed you. You nodded a little, shifting your weight awkwardly on your feet.

"She's so funny." You said softly, fiddling with your backpack strap. Two thirty-something year olds acting like thirteen as neither dared speak up first.

"Her next plan was somethin' to do with Parent Trap." Joel smiled, a sight you'd commit to memory forever. You chuckled, nodding a little.

"Well, I'm glad you liked the cupcakes Joel." You replied, feeling a little silly for your sudden moment of bravery when writing his card. You smiled and turned to head and see if you could still make the bus when his voice reached your ears again.

"You miss 100% of the shots you don't take." It seemed strange to hear his voice repeat your words as you froze midstep and turned to face him.

"I'm sorry?" Joel rubbed a hand awkwardly over the back of his neck.

"That's what you said in that card. And the more I thought about it, the more it just made solid sense. I was gonna call but I couldn't risk chickenin' out once you answer." He glanced up at you from under his lashes, a soft look that made you weak at the knees. "So I figured I'd offer a ride home and maybe suggest a walk or somethin'." You smiled, your heart skipping in your chest as you nodded.

"I'd like that." Joel exhaled when you agreed, just as nervous as you felt. He offered his arm and you looped yours through his with a shy smile on your face. He was so warm and smelt good. The walk to his truck was relatively quiet other than some small talk. He even held the door open like a gentleman, making you smile and curtsey before getting into the vehicle.

"So I thought maybe we could head to Lake Travis? Sarah's at school till four then she's going to see our neighbours for a few hours… unless you just wanna go home?" You glanced up at him, was this the first date? Unplanned and a surprise after an early shift. He still wanted to go even if you looked tired, luckily you always got changed at work so you weren't in uniform at least. You eyed him for a moment before you smiled warmly.

"I'd like that. Maybe we can stop by Starbucks and have a coffee and cake?" Joel smiled back at you, butterflies stirring up a storm in your stomach at how it lit up his face. He agreed and headed off in the direction of the lake.

It was a quiet drive, only forty minutes or so, made longer by the Starbucks break and playful argument over Joel paying for both of you. You eventually gave in and vowed to hide $10 somewhere in his truck. You parked up in a spot with a good view of the lake and the two of you climbed into the back of the truck where Joel laid out a blanket to sit on. You smiled softly, it was so simple but so wonderful. You sat there for a good few hours just talking. Learning more about each other and it just made your crush on this gorgeous man all the more stronger.

"Sarah's great, a little too grown up for her age but she's got a good head on her shoulders." Joel smiled softly as he finished his drink then paused, glancing at you. "I've done nothin' but talk about Sarah haven't I?" You chuckled, placing a hand lightly on his arm.

"It's lovely, it shows how much you adore your daughter. She is pretty incredible." You nodded, Joel smiling warmly.

"I know but… you shouldn't really spend hours talkin' about your kid on a date." He wrinkled his nose a little and you paused at the word, a smile slowly spreading over your lips as you glanced down at your cup.

"This is a date?" Joel paused, realising finally what word he'd used before he glanced at you.

"Ah… it was bold of me to assume… I never even asked. I ain't dated since Sarah's mom. Fuck I'm sorry." You chuckled and looked up at him, leaning to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

"No, I like it. Assume away. This is definitely the best kind of first date, relaxed and fun." You nodded, Joel's cheeks flushing slightly at the kiss as you settled beside him again.

"I figure a traditional dinner date might not be your thing since that's what you work around all day, every day. And I had no idea what movies you like so… I figure a drive out to the lake wasn't too far and it's a nice view." You nodded in agreement, looking up at him with a playful grin.

"Yeah, it is." He glanced at you, a little confused before he realised you were openly flirting and he suddenly felt shy. But bold enough to eventually slide an arm around your shoulders and cuddle you against his side when it dropped a little cooler. You could hear his heart beneath your ear as you settled comfortably, it just felt right. That this was exactly where you were supposed to be. The conversation flowed a little more naturally after that, the two of you talking about anything and everything for hours until Joel's phone buzzed and Sarah was calling to make sure he was actually coming home. He apologised and helped you out of the truck bed, riding home you couldn't help the smile on your face. Stealing glances over at Joel, the way the lights bounced off his features and highlighted his skin. You couldn't believe out of everyone, you were the lucky one spending time with this man. He dropped you at home, the truck idling as you gathered your things.

"I had a lot of fun tonight Joel." You said softly as you watched him. Joel smiled, taking your hand in his own and lifting it to gently brush a kiss to your knuckles.

"If you're interested, I'd like to pick you up next week and take you out again? I'll text you what days I'm free." You blushed and nodded.

"I'd love that." Joel smiled, squeezing your hand gently before letting you go. You climbed out of the truck and watched him drive away until the taillights disappeared. You let out an excited squeal and finally headed inside, your head full of Joel and what possibilities the future held.

—

Unfortunately your shifts didn't align with his the following week, but you managed to squeeze in a couple of quick coffee dates together. Sitting in overcrowded cafes for an hour or less, just talking and eventually his fingers would find yours across the table. He was everything you dreamed of, he was caring but cautious. He explained what had happened with Sarah's mother and how that had put him off of dating until you. You shared your own tales of unrequited love and failed dating attempts. His thumb gently ran along yours as you exchanged stories, lamenting at how people were stupid.

"Yeah but… for their stupidness, I got you to myself." You said softly, your bravery getting the better of you. Joel watched you and smiled tenderly, lifting your hands to kiss your knuckles as he did every time you met up. Always the gentlemen, patient and content to take it slow. As you walked out of the cafe with him, Joel checked his phone for a moment.

"It's my birthday on Friday. If you want, you're welcome to come over and join Sarah and me for cake?" You blinked, watching him. If he was inviting you over for his birthday then he must be serious about you. You nodded and smiled.

"I'd like that. I'll bring more cupcakes." Joel smiled fondly at you as he ran his thumb along your knuckles.

"Perfect. I'll see you Friday then." You nodded, your gazes lingering on each other before you let his hand slip from yours. He smiled, then surprised you with a soft kiss to your cheek before he turned to climb into his truck.

Sadly he had to raincheck when there were issues on the job and he wouldn't be home till much later than planned. You text him back a sad emoji but said you understood; maybe you could take him for a belated birthday breakfast on Saturday instead. He agreed to that and said he couldn't wait to see you again. You smiled softly and headed off to your bedroom to put his gift back in the closet until tomorrow.

—

Of course tomorrow never came. You barely remember much of that night anymore, Austin in flames and people panicking. Those things attacking at random and spread more panic. You tried calling Joel a few times, terrified to be alone but the phone lines were down almost instantly. You packed as much as you could carry into an old boyfriends camping backpack and headed out of your apartment. No idea where to go but you couldn't stay here anymore. You thought you caught sight of Joel running past you with Sarah in his arms, but as you turned to call out to him, he was gone. Scared and alone, you decided you'd try to head out of town and try to make it as far away as possible.

That was twenty years ago now, those little dates with Joel were a thing of the past. Austin was a no-go and you found yourself in Kansas City after crossing paths with a man named Henry and his brother, Sam. They were scared and alone, Sam barely five. As you settled into life in Kansas, Sam taught you sign language while you taught him the joy of comics and enjoying the little things. Henry only trusted you to babysit Sam if he had to go out for work. Kathleen never gave a damn about anyone except her own mission in life.

Henry woke you up in the middle of the night, climbing in through your bedroom window. You sat up, staring at him.

"Jesus Christ Henry, you can't do that! I have a gun on the nightstand." The boy stood there, fear his eyes and blood on his shirt. "Henry…what happened?" Henry swallowed and looked down at his hands.

"I had to… Fedra had the chemo drug to save Sam but they needed something from me. Brian." He muttered, his eyes wild as he watched you. You took him gently by the hands and lead him into the bathroom to help clean him up.

"I would have done the same thing if it were my sister." You said softly, making sure he was clean and uninjured before you took him through to your spare room where Sam's hospital bed was set up. Henry quickly snapped into big brother mode and gave Sam the drugs, reading the poorly printed instructions and hoping it'll help. You helped them as best you could while Kathleen prowled the streets like a bloodthirsty demon, demanding anyone give up Henry and Sam. You found a doctor who could help Sam while hiding them, considering Kathleen was starting to eye you as well. You packed them both a bunch of food and promised to keep Kathleen off their tracks as long as possible.

You didn't know how much time had passed, but somehow Kathleen still trusted and never suspected you. You were careful and never told anyone a thing. You felt your blood run cold when your radio crackled to life and she said Henry had killed again and was on the move. You sighed heavily and followed her to the attic you knew they were hiding in, silently relieved when they were gone. Kathleen was angry, she almost sent you flying down the stairs as she barged past to continue looking for them. People were dying and suddenly everyone realised someone else was here too, and they didn't know a thing that was going on. Kathleen heard whispers through the radios about sightings of Henry and Sam. She gathered everyone together and headed towards the suburbs on the edge of town, the only way out. You headed out early, wanting to catch a headstart and warn Henry. You were quick and light on your feet as you moved through the streets, scanning for any sign of them - or Kathleen. You caught a glint from a window and knew it was one of Kathleen's snipers camping out, an older man named George. You let yourself into the house, walking up the stairs and placing a hand on the old mans shoulder.

"Jesus I coulda shot you. What you doing here?" You sighed, pretending to be as wound up as everyone else.

"I heard Henry and Sam were headed this way with two others. I'm gonna set up my rifle next door but I wanted to see how you're doing after that scuffle the other day." The old man shrugged, tapping his bad leg with the butt of his gun.

"It's just a bruise, looked worse than it is. You're a good woman, thank you for checking in." You nodded and smiled, squeezing his shoulder again as you shouldered your rifle to head out. You heard the man mutter under his breath about a damn distraction before firing. You spun around and heard voices from outside. Two male and one young female. You knew Henrys voice like the back of your hand but before you could react, the radio had been called. You cursed under your breath and moved into the next bedroom, hoping you could get their attention or try to help them get away. Using the sight on the gun, you searched for Henry on the street, catching a blur of a man heading towards the house you're in; you moved back to where he'd come from and finally saw them. Henry and Sam, plus a girl. They looked pretty much unharmed from what you could see, you were trying to figure out how to warn them when you heard the stairs creaking behind you as George shot again. You held your breath and slid down into the shadows as the figure of a man appeared and headed into the room next to yours. He spoke softly with George, you strained to hear what was said but a gunshot made you jump. You fell backwards and smacked your head against the windowsill; you cursed under your breath then slapped a hand over your mouth as the footsteps suddenly turned to you. The muzzle of a gun entered the room first, followed by it's owner. Dark eyes scanned the room before landing on you, you squinted a little in the dim light and raised your gun; aimed perfectly at his throat. His gun slowly lowered as you finally see each other.

"No fucking way." You breathe, Joel Miller stared at you in bewilderment before a noise from the other room pulled his attention away. It was George's radio, Kathleen was asking for information and Joel ran back through. You pushed yourself up, rubbing a hand over the back of your head as you turned to look out of the window as you see Kathleen and her brainwashed army tracking down Henry and the kids. You couldn't hear them properly but before you could even try to figure anything out, the ground behind them collapsed and opened up, hundreds of infected clambouring out and making quick work of everyone on the floor. You cursed under your breath and steadied yourself before starting to pick some of them off; doing your best to keep Henry and Sam safe between shooting any that may stray towards the house. Pops from the next room told you Joel was doing the same. You held your breath as you watched Henry and Sam clambour underneath a car for safety, you shot a few infected that approached them before turning your attention to the main horde. Fear ran up your spine at the sight of the huge bloated mass literally ripping people apart like paper. You'd heard rumours of such a monster but just assumed it was urban legend. You fired at it a few times before figuring it was a waste of ammo and turned your attention back to Henry and Sam, watching as the young girl made a bee-line for them and dragged them out from their spot before all three bolted for the house. You heard Joel approach your room again, lingering in the doorway for a split second before nodding his head towards the stairs in a silent request to come with him. You dropped the rifle and pulled the glock from your hip holster before following him closely.

Once outside, he called to the trio and gestured for them to come this way. Sams eyes went wide as he saw you, a moment of childish joy at a familiar face as he ran past you towards the backyard. Kathleen seemingly appeared from nowhere, yelling at Henry. Everyone saw the infected child creeping up behind her but no one made a move to alert her or stop it. Even as it pounced and dragged her to the floor. Joel glanced at you before turning to follow the others. You stepped closer, aimed then fired two shots. One at the infected and one at Kathleen. She as a nightmare alive, you couldn't stomach facing her as one of those things. You holstered your gun and sprinted after the group.

"This way!" You called out, leading them out through the gate at the back of the garden that would be their final break for freedom.

Once out of the cul-de-sac and into relative safety, Sam wrapped his arms around you and hugged you so tightly you could have sworn he'd leave an imprint of his face on your stomach. You smiled warmly at the boy, signing to him that you told him you'd see him again. He smiled and adjusted his bag before running off to catch up with the girl. You turned to face Henry, trapping him in a hug as well.

"That could have gone so wrong…" He muttered, walking beside you as Joel walked behind as look out. You nodded, pushing your hands into your jacket pockets.

"I know but I knew you'd make it. I stuck close to Kathleen so I always knew any info she did on you. When I heard you were headed this way, I knew I had to do something. There's a motel about two miles down this road, I cleared it last month as a precaution." Henry nodded.

"Thank you." He said softly, glancing over his shoulder at Joel before everyone walked in relative silence, the only words were directions that you gave.

At the motel, you led the way to the one room you knew was still habitable. Digging out a pack you'd stashed behind a broken vending machine that had a little food in it and some bottles of water. In the room, you shared them out.

"It's not much but it'll do till morning." You nodded, handing Joel a bottle. He watched you quietly before taking it, the girl throwing a curious glance at the man given he barely took his eyes off of you. Once everyone had eaten a little, the kids went into the bedroom to read comics while the three of you sat in the living room.

"So how'd you two know each other?" You asked, glancing between Joel and Henry. Joel shrugged a shoulder.

"I woke up yesterday to Sam holding a gun in my face." He muttered, Henry rolling his eyes as you stared at him.

"Unloaded. We just… had to be sure they weren't with Kathleen. Joel really didn't want to go together but Ellie and Sam helped convince him otherwise." Henry smiled softly, his gaze wandering to the two in the bedroom. The three of you talked quietly for a bit, Henry getting up eventually to tell Sam it was time to sleep. Once the bedroom door closed, Henry took his place in one of the chairs. Joel caught your eye and inclined his head towards the front door.

"Hey Henry, we're just going to step out for a moment. You'll be okay?" Henry nodded, sinking comfortably into his seat.

"I'll probably be asleep before you get back anyway." He mumbled, folding his arms over his chest as he gave in to the tiredness. You smiled, squeezing his shoulder as you passed him and moved to the door where Joel waited.

Outside the room, the two of you stood silently for a brief moment before Joel surprised you by wrapping you up in the tightest hug. You held him close, all those old memories and feelings bubbling to the surface.

"I can't believe of all the people I run into, it's you." He said softly as he finally stepped back. He looked older and tired but he still looked as handsome as the last time you'd seen it.

"Me either. I often wondered what happened to you." You replied, your eyes never leaving his face. "The grey suits you." You smiled, lifting a hand to gently brush your fingers through his mess of curls. The two of you fell quiet after a moment, leaning against the railings of the balcony walkway.

"Where's Sarah? And Tommy?" You asked, Joel's jaw tensing slightly as his eyes fell to his hands on the metal.

"Tommy's somewhere in Wyoming. That's where we're headed next." He nodded, taking a steady breath. "I lost Sarah." You felt your heart ache, for both Joel and the loss of Sarah.

"Oh Joel… I'm so sorry." You said, placing a hand against his forearm. He watched your fingers against his skin before his gaze moved to the parking lot below.

"Sometimes I feel selfishly glad she didn't have to see the shitstorm the world turned into. But mostly I just miss her." You nodded a little in understanding.

"When did it happen?" Joel shifted his weight on his feet, moving to stand up properly and stretch his back.

"Outbreak day. We were tryin' to escape Austin. The car flipped and we had to move on foot. I was carryin' her cause she hurt her ankle in the crash and some fuckin' powertrip soldier shot at us. She died in my arms." He muttered, flexing his fingers a little. You nodded a little, you'd seen it before. Fedra were scum and it only took a soldier on a bad day to ruin people's lives.

"I'm so sorry Joel. I can't imagine how that must feel." He exhaled slowly and nodded, folding his arms loosely over his chest.

"I can't believe of all people I find you though." He muttered, glancing at you as you resumed leaning against the railings.

"Me either. I thought I saw you on outbreak day but… everything was so chaotic and loud that I didn't think to call out. I…did what I could to survive. Kept moving then I ended up here. Kathleen took me in, I befriended a few people like Henry and Sam. But over the years… Kathleen changed and she became more of a dictator. When her brother was killed she just lost it… I did what I could to help them without her knowing but it was so risky. But I wasn't about to let them get killed. They're good boys." You nodded, leaning to rest your chin against your forearms as you watched the horizon. Joel hummed quietly, glancing back at the door before facing you again.

"That uh, that girl in there. That's Ellie. She's… she's immune." You blinked, staring at him.

"Joel… what? How?" He shrugged, rubbing his palm against his jaw .

"I don't know how it works. I've seen it with my own eyes. She got bit and nothin', it healed like it was just a papercut. I'm takin' her to Wyoming to try and find Tommy. Then off to the Fireflies hospital cause they say they can make a cure from her." He paused a moment, watching you as you tried to work it all out and if he was just following a lie. "You're welcome to come with us?" You lifted your head to look at him, studying his face before nodding.

"I'd like that. The five of us would make a good team." You smiled a little, muffling a yawn into your shoulder before standing up straight. Joel nodded, glancing around then shifted his gaze back to you. Quiet fell and the two of you just watched each other for a moment.

"I missed you." You said softly, your eyes on the broken watch around Joel's wrist. He was quiet, you worried if it was too bold to say so soon. But instead he just reached out a hand to pull you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders as he rest his chin against the top of your head. You sighed quietly and nuzzled into him, snaking your arms underneath his jacket to feel his warmth against you. You could hear his heart beating and the way his muscles shifted as he breathed, it instantly took you back to that evening by the lake. He was real and alive. Your eyes closed as you breathed him in, savouring this moment in the back of your mind.

"I missed you too." He eventually replied, his voice soft as you leaned back to look up at him. He looked even more guarded than he had when you first met, you wondered what he'd had to deal with to survive this long.

"C'mon. We got a long way to go tomorrow." You hummed in agreement and followed him back into the room. Henry was already asleep, his chin resting against his chest as he snored softly. Joel handed you Ellie's sleeping bag before getting himself comfortable on the floor with his own bag. You smiled softly and spread it out to sleep on before draping your jacket over yourself as a makeshift blanket. In the darkness of the room, your gaze slowly drifted to Joel and found warm comfort in his relaxed face as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

—

Morning came too quickly and with a loud yell as Ellie came tumbling out of the bedroom with Sam on top of her, snarling and gnashing his teeth. Everyone woke up with a start as Ellie yelled for Joel for help, you sprang to your feet with your eyes wide as Joel went for his gun. Sam had turned. Fear rooted you to the spot as you watched, Henry firing off a shot and yelling at Joel didn't even pull your eyes away from the kids as you quickly grabbed your own pistol from the table behind you. Before you could react, Henry fired. Sam fell off of Ellie and lay still. The silence in the room was thick as Henry stared at the body of his brother, wide scared eyes moved from Sam to everyone else in the room.

"What did I do?" He gasped, breathing heavily as Joel edged closer and gently tried to coax him to hand the gun over. Henry's eyes moved to you, filled with pain and sadness as he lifted the gun to his own head. You jumped and tried to cover Ellie's eyes out of instinct as the shot rang out. Ellie whimpered, fists tight on your shirt as she stared at the chaos in the room as Henry slumped to the floor.

No one said a word as you and Joel set about wrapping them both up in the sheets off the beds, Ellie gathering everyone's belongings together. You took a private moment in the bathroom to sob into a towel, in less than twenty four hours you'd been reunited with Joel but lost two friends. No one commented on the obvious wetness of your cheeks or redness of your eyes as you headed out, carefully taking Henry and Sam to the two graves Joel had dug. Still no one spoke, just worked silently to bury the brothers. You watched as Ellie placed Sam's board on his grave with 'I'm sorry' written on it. She quietly asked which way they were going and Joel nodded with his head, Ellie slowly heading off that way. You stood beside Joel, staring at the two mounds of dirt as you brushed the dirt off your jeans.

"You okay?" Joel asked softly, you glanced at him resisting the urge to bite that it was a stupid question and instead just shrugged. He nodded, not pushing anymore as Ellie called out to you both. You grabbed your bags and headed out after her, everyone lost in their own private thoughts for a while.

It wasn't until you stopped for a break that the silence was broken.

"Did you tell her?" Ellie asked, her eyes flicking from Joel to you then back again. Joel nodded and Ellie sighed softly. "And we can trust her? Just because she got us out of the city?" Joel frowned a little, swallowing his food.

"I knew her back in Texas. I've known her for a while. We can trust her." He mumbled, Ellie eyeing you a little before she leaned back against the tree she sat under.

"I know trust is hard to come by around here, but you have my word that you can trust me. Or at least I hope I can earn your trust." Ellie pursed her lips a little before twisting around and digging in her bag for a moment, you and Joel exchanging curious glances as she eventually turned back around. She was quiet for a brief moment before she fixed you with a serious look.

"I once heard a joke about amnesia... But I forget how it goes." You stared at her for a moment, noticing the muscles in her face twitch as she tried to not smile. Only to lose that battle when you burst out laughing, Ellie grinning as Joel rolled his eyes and shoved his thermos back into his bag.

"I swear, you're just pickin' the worst ones out now."

"She laughed!! Fuck you I'm funny." She puffed her chest up, proud someone finally laughed at the stupid puns she spent hours trying to memorise.

—

Travelling was tiring and slowly getting colder, but Ellie would keep asking random questions or poke at Joel for information. Eventually turning to ask you things when he kept up his apparent normal scowling silence.

"Was he this grumpy when you knew him in Texas?" She whispered to you during a break when Joel wandered off to check the area. You chuckled and shook your head.

"If he was, I never saw it. He was quiet like this but… he smiled a lot and when he did talk, he would get really passionate about certain things." You nodded, glancing at Ellie as she tried to picture it.

"How did you know him?" You debated it for a second before giving a half truth.

"I was a waitress at a restaurant he used to come to a lot. When you have regulars, you tend to get to know them to a degree. Joel and I were… pretty close." You smiled softly, thinking back to your little coffee dates. It seemed like a dream now. Ellie narrowed her eyes for a moment before pulling a face.

"Ew. You like him." You blinked and looked at her, opening your mouth to retaliate when the crunch of snow behind you signalled Joel's return.

"What?" He said, both you and Ellie watching him before Ellie shrugged and carried on along the road.

"Just seeing if she'll answer my questions since you don't like to talk." She commented, you just smiled at Joel and shrugged a little. Joel shook his head and followed the girl. This Joel was quieter, he barely smiled and you never heard him laugh. The new world changed him, losing his daughter no doubt did the most to do that. But behind the walls he'd built up around himself, you knew old Joel was still in there. You could see it in the way he quietly looked after Ellie, the way he would put himself in front of you both, the way you would sometimes catch him watching you. Something in his eyes sometimes would have you wondering if he still had the same feelings towards you but was too scarred from years of loss to pick that thread up again. You promised yourself you wouldn't make things awkward by bringing it up. Ellie slowly warmed up to you, telling her puns when things were quiet for too long or asking you about things she'd never seen or experienced, or her favourite topic was poking fun at Joel and what she dubbed his "asshole voice".

(Part Two)

[mediocres-writing-blog]

MK LEGENDS: BLOOD BOUND

Chapter 11: Homecoming

After a short intermission, Nico would finally return to the S.F. base, greeting his colleagues and friends (and Sonya) as if he didn’t see them in years.

JOHNNY: Hey, kid. Glad to see you made it back safe and sound. How'd it go?

ROBIN: Long story short, I went, I saw, I was beaten to a pulp, then I woke up and got yelled at. The usual.

JOHNNY: You alright? You look like you need some rest. And to fix that mask of yours.

ROBIN: Nah, man. It's alright, I really just need a proper rest.

The caped crusader would then walk off into his room, sitting on his bed and taking off the damaged mask, which had a bullet-shaped dent on the left side, and completely missing a right side, other than the part that covers the mouth. he would then hear a knock at his door.

ROBIN: Come in.

Then Cassie, Jaqui, Takeda and Kung Jin would enter. The Kombat Kids would all take seats and start rapid firing questions at the crusader.

CASSIE: Hey, Nico! We heard you were back, so we wanted to check in. How'd it went?

ROBIN: Great. Almost died, but, uh... Great.

TAKEDA: So, uh, why's your mask all messed up?

ROBIN: Well, that's the part where I almost died. Shao Kahn's kid headbutted the right side into oblivion and a cowboy shot it two times.

KUNG JIN: So standard Outworld stuff?

ROBIN: Yep.

Cassie would then add, as she's tying Nico's hair.

CASSIE: And how did the mission go?

ROBIN: Poorly. I found the person I was supposed to and they just slipped through my fingers.

Jaqui would then say, while holding the mask.

JAQUI: Well, you might need some new parts.

The caped crusader, with a bit of an attitude, responds.

ROBIN: Oh no, thanks. The old parts are just fine.

TAKEDA: No, dude, seriously. If we get some titanium plating or something, we can make your mask even stronger.

ROBIN: Can you look through Titanium?

JAQUI: No?

ROBIN: Then no.

KUNG JIN: Well, that's stupid.

ROBIN: No, that's Sparta. Now, if you all would excuse me, I got some relaxation to do, so if you guys would be so kind?

CASSIE: Oh, right, sorry. C'mon, guys, let's go.

And with that, they left, and the crusader, laying down in his bed, took a big, long breath, and closed his eyes, relaxing while listening to music. Sonya would then see the team exit Robin's room, while a bit curious, passes it off. As the next day rolls by, the group is having lunch together, talking about their days and whatnot. After that, Cass would ask for something from Johnny.

CASSIE: So, dad, you got any plans for today?

JOHNNY: Hmm... considering that we just wrapped up Ninja Mime 5, No, not really. Why do you ask?

CASSIE: Well, I was wondering, maybe you could call up Nico later, I wanna see how he is in a fight. Who knows? maybe he'll finally get out of his room.

JOHNNY: Ooohhh, yeah. That could work.

Meanwhile, the crusader is still relaxing, but, as the team would soon find out, not sleeping, and listening to his music in the background, loud enough for the team to hear. Johnny would go and knock on the door.

ROBIN: Go away.

Mr. A-list would walk in anyways, seeing the masked crusader in a strange position, almost draping from the bed.

ROBIN: Alright, man, what is it?

JOHNNY: Wanted to check in on ya. How you doing?

ROBIN: Still alive, if that's what you mean.

JOHNNY: No, I'm more worried about your mental health.

ROBIN: Yeah, no. That's a no-go.

JOHNNY: Listen, Cass wants to see you fight again. And I wanna see what you got.

ROBIN: I don't know what this has to do with my mental health.

JOHNNY: I know, man. Just... give it a try.

The caped crusader sits up, and sighs.

ROBIN: Alright. For them.

he would get up and go to the training room, to see Cassie punching the shit out of a sand bag.

ROBIN: Wow. Someone's a little excited, aren't they?

CASSIE: Hey, I heard you were finally ready to fight. Let's see what you've got.

JOHNNY: Imma go check something. You kids play nicely, okay?

As the action star left the room, Cassie and Nico were face to face, staring each other down, almost like they were about to throw down, but Nico's the one that would make the first move.

ROBIN: So, what's this about?

CASSIE: This was all so I can get you to leave your room.

ROBIN: You sassy bitch.

Nico would take a jab, and Cass would block it, and counter, but Nico dodges. They continue to exchange blows, with Nico getting the upper hand. Then, Cassie would duck, making Robin think she'll leg sweep, but the crusader jumps, and then she would actually do it. The caped crusader was caught off guard and fell down. He gets up and shakes it off.

ROBIN: Aight, well played.

Cassie would extend her hand to the crusader, helping him up.

CASSIE: Not bad yourself, man.

Nico would shake her hand, and the two would hear clapping behind them. They turn around, and see Sonya.

SONYA: That was pretty impressive. You sure you've fought anyone before?

ROBIN: My whole life has been a fight. ADHD would do that to ya.

CASSIE: That doesn't count.

ROBIN: I fight the urge to wander around, yes it does.

SONYA: But I'm glad to see you're ready to help us.

ROBIN: Not quite yet, first there's some things I need to take care of before that.

Sonya would sigh, with her hand on her face. 

SONYA: Fine. We don't have any new missions anyways.

ROBIN: Awesome, see ya around.

He would then leave the room, heading for the exit. As the caped crusader heads to his room, he would get an email from Billie.

"oi, u free tn?"

"Ye, but also, where the bloody hell have you been?"

"I'll explain later, see ya at that bridge that looms over the city."

"Well, ok. See you there, I guess." 

He would put away his phone, take his McCloud jacket and climb out the window, walking off to the nearest bus stop and heading towards the bridge. Once he arrives, he would see Billie sitting at a bench. She turns her head to him and waves him over.

ROBIN: Well, it isn't the daughter of yobbo, how's it going? And also, where the hell were you the past few months? 

SIRIS: Well, you know, Black Dragon stuff. Sellin' guns, witnessing the killing of  bastards, the usual. 

ROBIN: Cool. Very cool. Well, since we're on the topic, how're Kano and Skarlet doing? I hope not well.

SIRIS: Well, we've taken in a new member...

ROBIN: Oh, how fun. What's their name? And how old are they? How much trauma have they endured? And what are their abilities? How good is their aim with a gun? How well do they fight? Do they use kunai? Do they use swords? Do they--

SIRIS: Can you shut. The fuck up. Jesus Christ, man. Look, their name's Tomek, or Tom. They about 21, I assume, not sure. 

Robin, realizing he's getting a bit annoying, shuts his trap and just gives her a thumbs up. Siris keeps going.

SIRIS: From what I've heard, he's got some power. He don't seem an experienced fighter, but he's gotta have potential. Now, can I stop talkin' for a second now? How 'bout you? Anything interesting happened lately?

ROBIN: Other than the fact I nearly died? No, not really. Just, trying to figure out what I should do for when I don't have a job contract. I'm about to hit 20 in like a month or two, so there's that. 

The heiress would look at the crusader, raising an eyebrow.

SIRIS: Contract? What do you mean 'contract'? Did you kill someone? 

ROBIN: Well it's a little more complicated than that. But short answer yes, out of pure rage, I did a Fatal Blow on a pirate. Or an X-ray. Or whatever the audience thinks is better, I don't care.

Siris, a little shocked, would raise her eyebrows and her jaw would drop slightly, not expecting this response. She would then respond with another question.

SIRIS: Okay, and the longer version?

ROBIN: Well--

over 20 minutes later...

ROBIN: And now I'm here. Class dismissed.

SIRIS: ... Riiiiiiight... Anyway, you said that Erron Black took the blood bender away? 

ROBIN: Mhmm. Not sure why, but hey, they're out of my hair, and the kahn is horribly pissed at me. Not my problem anymore. But anything weird happened to you lately?

Billie looked at her prosthetic arm and then sighed at Nico.

SIRIS: Okay, uhm... Well, yeah. You remember Tremor, right? 

ROBIN: Yeah, I remember last time I saw him he went to find Dreamrealm or whatever.

SIRIS: Yeah, so, he showed up in a couple of mine and he looks like an absolute badass, I'll tell ya what.

ROBIN: Oh, cool. But also, what?

SIRIS: I don't know how to explain. But anyway, he's basically a ticking time bomb.

The two would talk until long after the stars came out, and while they did, Nico talked about how he met and worked with the late Shao Kahn's daughter and almost died by her hands.

SIRIS: So, ya mean to tell me, she'd actually have it out with that blue bastard?

ROBIN: Hey, it's just a theory. She's not fun at all, but she's good on her word. That and it’s fun to see her get mad, I'll tell you that.

The two would then chuckle, and after a bit, Billie would turn to Robin.

SIRIS: Hey, uh, it's gettin' late. I should head home.

ROBIN: Same. Catch ya later, scumbag.

SIRIS: You too, fuckwit.

The two would laugh and part ways, and head home. With Robin sneaking back in, and seeing Sonya in the corner of his room, for the third time in the last few months.

ROBIN: Jesus f-

He inhales.

SONYA: What's your excuse this time? Out for fresh air? Out on a night stroll? On a smoke break? 

ROBIN: Why don't you ever sleep? Like I swear, every time I get out just because I feel like it, you're up stalking the halls like you're Michael fucking Myers.

Sonya would tilt her head and raise an eyebrow.

SONYA: Answer. Now. 

ROBIN: You wouldn't get it. Look, I'm a grown man. And if I want to leave, I can. Besides...

Robin's daggers would fly out of his jacket and into his hands.

ROBIN: I can take care of myself.

The General would cross her arms and glare at the masked crusader.

SONYA: Is that so? Well, I'll let you know. You're still a soldier here. And as such, you'll respect my rules.

ROBIN: You know what? Fine. As for today, I won't sneak out without your approval.

SONYA: Good. Now sleep.

Sonya would then leave the room, with the caped crusader laying down, putting his daggers in his belt that he left on the top of his bed. As he lays in bed, he smirks and chuckles at the fact that Sonya doesn't even realize she's been gotten.

[lavrach]

NEW CHAPTER!!!! :D Would be really happy if you checked it out!!! :D

[sewaryka]

the horrors can wait

[randomfandomworks]

Sylus takes notice one night, as you’re resting against him, of the exact way you position yourself in his hold.

You press your body to one side of his, until you’re basically molded against him. Your heart lays above his, it’s beating harmonizing with his own until they inevitably sync together.

Your head rests slightly on his collarbone, your face lingering just above his neck leaving your nose to occasionally bump it after a deep breath. Breaths which fan across his skin and give him little goosebumps.

Though it isn’t any of this that truely catches his attention.

One of your hands lays gently on his chest.

Sprawled exactly where in a past life a final blow had taken his life.

Your fingers graze where the gash would have been, leaving soft touches instead of dripping blood.

You’re unaware of what had happened ages ago, though subconsciously you apologize. Holding him close now as you couldn’t before. Perhaps it was part of your soul coming to its peace as you laid with him now.

His hand shakes slightly as it comes to trace your own, he turns, placing a kiss to the crown of your head and begins to focus once again on your steady breaths and your heart's rhythmic beat.

Perhaps this will be enough of a resolution to relax his own soul as well, that way his part and yours can come and rest together again as you two do now.

[kamaluhkhan]

ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY

pairing: vi x fem!reader word count: 10.5k summary: after years away, vi returns home for the holidays and reunites with you, her ex-girlfriend. the universe (*cough cough* and your meddling families) push you together again, and neither of you can ignore the feelings that linger. (or: you, vi, and the ghosts of christmas past, present and future.) warnings: reader is ekko's older sister but not necessarily biological so appearance isn't specified; childhood friends to lovers + second chance romance; reader gets hit on by a creepy guy + gets into a fight (injury + blood mention), smut [strap mention (reader receiving), oral (both receiving), fingering (both receiving), biting, spitting, tribbing, sub!vi makes an appearance...kinda rough + possessive sex but there's aftercare too <33] (18+) ! a/n: HAPPY NEW YEAR GIRLS AND GAYS <33 tbh i debated whether to post this now bc xmas was like....3 weeks ago but figured i might as well. so pls enjoy what is essentially an x-rated sapphic hallmark holiday movie.

♪: ‘tis the damn season by taylor swift (sun); winterbreak by MUNA (moon); last christmas by wham! (rising)

track 1: thank god it’s christmas by queen

(winter — age 17)

“okay, just relax your fingers — no, but keep some tension, apply a bit of pressure on the string….yep, that’s better. now, straighten your back….”

it’s dark and snowing outside, and the cold’s seeping in through the window of her attic bedroom, but vi still almost melts into the floor when you follow her advice and press against her chest. she worries that you can feel how fast her heart is beating — faster than it maybe should for someone she’d been calling friend ever since she could remember. 

you shift in her lap, her arms still wrapped around yours from when she offered to guide you through an instrumental version of wham’s “last christmas.” you tilt your head towards her, nose almost brushing against hers. 

“vi?”

“....yes?”

“maybe we should finish our lesson another time. we better hurry up, anyways. i bet ekko and powder are already arguing over whether we should watch home alone or home alone two.”

vi snorts. it’s practically a tradition at this point, along with the annual post-christmas-dinner pyjama movie night.

you try to hand her the bright pink guitar pick, but vi shakes her head.

“it’s yours. you’re gonna need it if you want more lessons.” 

“hm, or maybe i could sell it for a billion dollars once you’re a big rockstar,” you tease. “i can picture thousands of fangirls painting your portrait and writing mrs. violet lanes in their notebooks.” 

you get up, shoot her a wink, and leave vi on the bed, clutching her guitar and trying to get her pulse under control. 

neither of you say anything as you both get changed. the stereo plays the mixtape you’d made for her — you got her for secret santa this year.

“my mom loved this song,” vi hums, a warm ache growing in her chest when the next song plays. this is the second christmas without her, but vi is still not used to using past tense. “she thought freddie mercury was the best rockstar of all time.”

“i remember. you…you must miss her.” 

of course she does, and she could run through a million reasons why.

“vander says you’ll be spending new year’s at your dad’s,” is what she says instead.

you let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “yeah.”

“your mom going, too?”

“just me and ekko. i swear, it’s like he’s trying to be this perfect dad to his new stepkids, meanwhile he’s the one who left us here to deal with his mess, the one who just ran away, and….whatever.” this time, you do scoff. “hey – do you have a shirt i could borrow?”

vi looks over to find that you’ve switched from the velvet dress you wore during dinner into a pair of flannel plaid pants; her cheeks flush when she sees that you’re only wearing a black lacy bralette on top. 

she clears her throat and pulls a clean jersey from her dresser, tosses it over to you. 

“that’s a shame. i was looking forward to spending new year’s eve together.”

you hum and slip the shirt over your shoulders. the only sources of light are the moon and the stars and the multicoloured christmas lights strung along vi’s walls, but she swore that your eyes flick down to her lips. 

“why’s that?” you ask. 

there’s something absolutely dizzying about being this close to you, the way your sparkly eyes wait patiently for her to respond. joni mitchell sings about skating away on a river, and vi wishes she could skate away from this conversation, but there’s nowhere to go. 

vi blinks away from your gaze and fixates on one of the many things she’s pinned up on her bedroom walls throughout the years. it’s a page torn from an old notebook of yours, something from seventh grade math class, but vi always loved your little drawings in the margins. 

vi?” you prompt, never one to let go easily.

“i want to kiss you at midnight,” she confesses.

“yeah?” 

vi nods. she’s tempted to walk out of her room, down the stairs and out into the winter night, until you weave your fingers through hers and squeeze her hand. she looks up — and you’re beaming, a smile that brightens vi’s entire being. 

“i want that too.”

vi finally, finally crashes her mouth onto yours, lips sticky with marshmallow fluff.

you taste like vanilla and gingerbread and hot chocolate that is definitely not spiked with irish cream that vi slipped into your mugs while you distracted the adults. 

you taste like home.

….

so, slight change of plans….i’m gonna stay here in london with the rest of the band. apparently the kirammans throw a super fancy holiday party with super fancy people every year, and cait convinced her parents to let us perform. fingers crossed someone important discovers us.

merry christmas, baby. and, if i don’t get the chance to say it: happy new year.

….

track 2: winter wonderland by darlene love

(winter — age 12)

you’re supposed to be looking after ekko while your parents are at work, but all that really means is making a big bowl of kraft dinner and stove-top s’mores for lunch and watching old christmas specials on the worn-out living room couch while you draw in your sketchbook and your brother, only 7 years old, programs the doorbell to play ‘jingle bells.’ 

when someone rings the doorbell, the tune floats through the house and wakes up your dog who starts barking like it’s the end of the world. 

“easy, ziggy.” you click a marker closed and run a hand through the husky’s fur, attempting to calm him down. “let’s go see who it is.”

you open the door, and there’s vi: snowflakes sparkling on her eyelashes, pink hair hidden under a knitted hat, and a toothy grin that brings out the dimple in her flushed cheeks. she’s also got a split lip and crooked nose from her last hockey game.

“we’re building a fort,” she tells you. she shuffles to the side so that you can see powder, who’s making a snow angel. “well, we’re going to. wanna join?”

you nod, smiling. “ekko!” 

your brother’s already behind you, slipping on his chunky boots and oversized coat that used to be yours before running outside and collapsing onto the fluffy snow next to powder. ziggy bolts outside, too, running circles around them. 

you stumble to get your winter gear on as fast as possible, the cold air rushing inside your front hallway as vi waits for you, kicking her snowy boot against the concrete entryway step. not even a heartbeat after shutting the door behind you, vi takes your gloved hand in hers and pulls you forward, the two of you a flurry of laughter.

…..

hey, pretty girl. i was at this party and one of your songs came on! every time i hear it, i’m in awe of how amazing it is….how amazing you are. i’m basically walking home in a snowstorm, so i’m gonna go before my fingers freeze off, but i just wanted to say that i’m so proud of my rockstar girlfriend.

i was also wondering: are you coming home any time soon? the holidays are coming up, and i really miss you. we all do.  

…..

track 3: last christmas by wham!

(winter — now)

vi should have learned from sonic youth and fleetwood mac: 

no sex or romance between bandmates. it never ends well.

it was bad enough giving into the rumors and fooling around with cait, but it’s another layer of messiness now that cait and maddie dating. meanwhile, cait is very much still bitter towards vi, vi is very much pining after someone whom she’s pretty sure never wants to see her again, and steb and lorris are very much caught in the middle. it’s no wonder the band’s manager suggested everyone take some time apart to ease the tension. frankly, while others protested, vi was almost relieved at the suggestion.

so cait’s off to london, maddie’s off to glasgow, the boys are going god knows where, and vi —

vi’s heading back home, back to you.

she wakes up in the bed of her childhood for the first time in a long time. her dad put on fresh sheets, but they’re still the same ones from back then — worn flannel with cartoon penguins. it takes a lot of willpower to untangle herself from the warmth and cloud-like softness, but eventually she heads downstairs to the kitchen.

powder still has exams so she’s not home from college until tomorrow, and vander’s gone to work. it’s just vi in her too-small christmas pyjamas (she has yet to unpack), eating a box of stale cinnamon pop-tarts for breakfast even though it’s well past noon. curiosity gets the best of her, so she peers through the window to see if anyone is next door.

your mom’s car is in the driveway, completely snowed in. there had only been a dusting of snow while vi was devouring the first pastry, but four pop-tarts in and it’s about doubled. she waits until the snow stops falling; with nothing better to do and a sugar rush to burn off, vi pulls on her old winter coat and snow boots she hasn’t worn since she was 18, grabs a shovel from the garage, and gets to work. 

it doesn’t take her long to clear the driveway, and she has some adrenaline to spare, so she decides to be a good neighbor. 

vi’s heaving one last shovelful of snow over her shoulder when she hears:

“violet? is that you?” 

she turns around. and, okay the first thing she registers is ziggy running towards her, the husky toppling her over into the snow.

“i missed you too, zig,” vi laughs. 

she gets up as ziggy’s still bounding around in the snow, and sees your mom standing in the doorway, looking a little more tired and a little more gray. but the smile on her face when she sees that it is, in fact, vi — it’s so bright that the snow might not exactly melt away, but the years sure do. 

vi remembers making snow angels with you while your moms gossiped over tea, how the two of you would stomp inside with a mess of slush and snow while laughter echoed from the living room. vi remembers your mom keeping a comforting arm around her shoulder through her mom’s funeral while you held her hand. she remembers your mom helping her pick out the perfect corsage to match your suit at prom, making a joke about how next time it might be an engagement ring, and telling vi how proud her mother would have been of her at your high school graduation party. 

with the golden glow of nostalgia comes a crashing wave of guilt at what vi said to you last time you spoke. 

“come inside, sweetheart. i’ll make you some hot cocoa as a thank you.”

vi is tempted to reject the offer, but your mom looks so hopeful and vi’s fingers are about to freeze off, anyways. 

so your mom makes hot cocoa as vi defrosts, the two of them chatting in the familiar yellow kitchen that you and vi once almost burnt down while trying to bake a cake for powder’s birthday. even the magnets and paper memories decorating the fridge are the same, with the addition of an article about vi’s band that was featured in the rolling stone, pinned up by a ceramic cow. 

“she’s an art teacher now,” your mom tells vi after giving an update on ekko. she glances at the oven clock. “speaking of which — i know you just finished shoveling our driveway, but do you mind helping me with another favor?”

“after the world’s best hot chocolate? anything.”

“i told my daughter that i’d pick her up from work, and i’m wondering if you would be able to take care of that.” your mom smiles. “i’m sensing a bad migraine coming on.”

the last sip of hot chocolate trickles down vi’s throat like cement. she knew she’d be seeing you, but didn’t quite plan for how that….reunion might go.

“of course,” vi says. 

vi puts both of their mugs in the dishwasher, about to grab the car keys from the hook by the door when your mom calls out: 

“oh, and violet?” vi turns around. “i’m so glad you’re home.”

you’re talking to a student when vi enters the art room of your old high school. nothing else in the building had changed — same boring concrete, same scratched up lockers, same graffiti immortalizing whom hooked up with whom. this room is the exception, vibrant with how students’ art is displayed all around, paintings and drawings and collages, and you’ve strung up multicolored christmas lights that give the whole space a cozy ambiance. you look the part of a cool, young art teacher: wearing a simple dark purple turtleneck tucked into black jeans and the same combat boots you’ve had since tenth grade, paint stains on your skin that is exposed by rolled up sleeves, and a marker behind your ear. you’re standing in front of an easel, talking to the student who happens to notice vi before you do.

“holy shit. is that violet lanes?”

vi watches as your face scrunches up in confusion, and then falls into shock when you see her standing there.

“it seems that it is violet lanes,” you state coolly while the student squeals. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, i, uh,” vi clears her throat, her palms sweaty. why is her body reacting like she’s a teenager about to ask out her crush for the first time? “your mom wasn’t feeling great, asked if i could pick you up from work.”

“you guys are friends?” the student asks, eyes wide as they flick between you and vi. 

“we used to date, actually,” vi clarifies. wrong move, she realizes, because you can’t help but glare at her.

“oh my god.” the student squeals again and reaches in their pocket to whip out their phone. “i need to tell alyssa that ms. l/n was in a relationship with the violet lanes. are you guys gonna get back together? oh my god, have you come to win her back —”

“layla,” you clip, and by the furrow of layla’s brow, it seems like you’re not usually so stern. you smile at layla, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “you’ve done some great work today, but you’ll have to finish this when we’re back from winter break. do you mind giving ms. lanes and i a minute?”

layla nods once, gathers her things. when she walks past vi, she can’t help but ask for an autograph. vi complies, of course, even lets her take a selfie. a fan is a fan, after all.

and, quite frankly this is the only part of being in the band that she still enjoys: hearing how excited young girls are at the music she writes, the music that vi wished she had growing up, about girls liking girls, about girls falling in and out of love with each other. everything else is just an occupational hazard that vi’s getting more and more fed up with. 

when vi turns her attention back to you, you’re finished putting all the material away, wiping your hands with an already paint-stained towel.

“i meant what you’re doing back in town,” you explain, not quite meeting vi’s eyes. you pack away some books and your laptop into a supple leather briefcase, and slip on your coat. vi’s cheeks flush when you catch her watching you. 

“it…it doesn’t matter. i’m here for a while, though.” 

you sigh. “okay.” and you don’t say anything more. vi keeps up with you as you switch off the lights, lock the door, and stride to the parking lot in silence. when you get to the car, you extend your hand.

“i’m driving,” you say, gesturing at her to give you the keys. “we both know that you’re a terrible driver.”

“i’m not a terrible driver,” vi guffaws. 

“says the lesbian who gives the rest of us a bad name,” you quip, a hint of a smile dancing across your lips, like the first bout of sun after a winter storm. “c’mon, pretty girl. i’m not giving up, so unless you wanna freeze to death….” 

the nickname slips effortlessly from your tongue, so much so that you don’t even seem to realize it, but vi’s breath hitches and she’s more than happy to fold to your every whim if it means hearing you call her pretty one more time. 

“so….” vi glances over at you from the passenger seat. a snowy landscape passes outside the window, and you tap on the steering wheel to a generic christmas song that plays through the stereo. “you’re teaching high school now?” 

she wonders if you remember the last fight you had, almost two years ago to the day.

you keep your eyes on the road. “yeah. guess i graduated from finger-painting with kindergarteners.”

vi feels her cheeks heat up all over again. 

so, you do remember. 

she wonders if you’ve replayed it over and over again and hoped for a different ending like she did. she should have thought more about what to actually say to you —

“you know, i never understood why you liked this song so much,” you suddenly say when the radio starts playing dolly parton’s cover of ‘i’ll be home for christmas.’ 

vi can read between the lines, but she’s waiting for you to point out the irony in her preference for a song that’s about someone wanting to go home for christmas, something vi has deliberately avoided at all costs these past few years. 

“it just seems kinda sad,” you continue. 

“you love ‘last christmas,’ and that one’s pretty sad,” vi points out.

“sure, but it ends hopefully.”

“oh?” vi tilts her head towards you. “how’d you figure? 

“sure, it’s someone singing about heartbreak and how much it sucks during christmastime, but then there’s this hope that they still find true love down the line. it’s a maybe that isn’t hopeless.” you shrug. “meanwhile, your song ends with the lyric ‘if only in my dreams,’ which just seems too accepting of the fact that going home for christmas, being with the person they love — it might just be a dream.”

“i don’t know. some dreams do come true,” vi muses. 

by now, you’ve made it home. you put the car in park but keep the engine going, presumably to avoid becoming icicles. neither of you make a move to leave. 

you glance over at vi. “your dreams sure came true, ms. violet lanes,” you joke, but there’s an air of sadness to it.

“not all of them.”

“yeah? which ones haven’t?”

vi swallows the lump in her throat and hopes that you understand the look in her eyes. “let’s just say i’m working on them.”

you blink away and cut the engine.

….

you’re still dealing with the shock of seeing vi back in town when your brother, freshly home from college, suggests going skating. 

he can be fairly convincing, especially when he mentions that it’s a christmas season tradition, so, you prepare for what is essentially a double date with your brother, his girlfriend/your ex-girlfriend’s sister, and your ex-girlfriend, with isha as a fifth wheel.

should be fun. 

it turns out, despite all her past hockey experience, vi really cannot skate. in fact, skating seems to be the complete opposite of riding a bike: she’s terrible at it after years off the ice, essentially reenacting that scene from bambi. it’s easier to ignore vi’s presence when she’s sitting next to the snack bar, by herself, but then powder skates up next to you and asks if you’d be kind enough to please help her sister have a good time. you roll your eyes at her shit-eating grin, but it is a bit sad, watching vi on the sidelines. she’s wearing a beanie and a pair of sunglasses to hide her identity, and now she kinda looks like a divorced dad watching his grown kids pass him by while he’s stuck in a midlife crisis.

you convince vi to give skating another shot — it’s tradition after all — and pull her out onto the rink. you start by holding her from behind, keeping her hips steady until she gets the hang of it. you try to let go, but vi stumbles and reaches out for your gloved hand, and you melt into the familiarity of her fingers curled around yours. the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, first with you pulling vi along, then with her taking the lead, until vi almost knocks into a small child.

“see what i mean by you being a bad driver?” you jest, successfully maneuvering to avoid collision. 

then, you follow where vi’s eyes have settled — on powder and isha laughing and chasing each other around the rink. vi had asked earlier when isha had dyed her hair blue; you still have some residue under your nails from last weekend, when powder came for a study break and the three of you ended up helping isha achieve a new look she’d apparently been itching to try. 

“you know powder’s graduating this year?” 

“she overloaded her credits so she could get out of there as soon as possible,” you explain, having had many conversations with powder leading up to the decision. 

vi nods, her jaw clenched. you already know what she’s thinking, and frankly, you agree: that vi hasn’t been here, literally and figuratively. you also feel the warmth of vi’s skin radiating through her glove to yours, notice the slight flush to her freckled cheeks, how chapped her lips are from the cold, so much so that you’re tempted to share the vanilla chapstick you’ve got on your own lips, to kiss her deeply like you did last time you were here, together.

it’s only been three days since vi’s been back home. this is only the second time you’ve seen her, and you’re already falling back into old patterns, tempted to ask her to stay, to try again, even though you already know the answer.

except….not staying isn’t the deal breaker it used to be, so maybe trying again isn’t as hopeless as you think it is.

vi squeezes your hand, and you realize that you’ve stopped skating entirely. 

“hey. you still with me?”

you nod, decide to enjoy this moment for as long as you can, and the two of you glide across the ice.

…..

when you suggest making stove-top s’mores, it’s another item on the list of things she’d missed. 

a list that’s been growing a lot these past few days.

vi offers to make more once you’ve all run out, and ekko follows her into their kitchen while you, powder, and isha keep watching christmas specials in the living room. she turns on the gas stove, stabs a marshmallow through a wooden skewer and waits for it to roast — and, for ekko to say something.

“i don’t know what happened between you and my sister, but i need you to promise me that the tabloids aren’t true. that you and that kiramman chick didn’t hook up…at least until after y’all broke up.” 

“or, what, you’re gonna challenge me to an arm wrestle? think you can finally beat me?”

“oh, i know it.”

a pause. the marshmallow catches on fire and vi blows on it to quell the damage.

“i didn’t cheat on her.” she throws out the burnt marshmallow and gives it another shot. “i would never. does….does she think i did?”

ekko shrugs. “not sure. some of those articles are pretty convincing. but, since you’re promising me that you didn’t…”

“i didn’t.”

“then that saves me from kicking your ass.” ekko nods once and uncrosses his arms, handing vi some graham crackers and chocolate. “actually, i could use your help with something.”

“sure.”

“she applied to this great art residency in new york, like, on whim. the only people she’s told are me, powder, and vander….i think she’s nervous to tell mom, at least until she knows for sure she’s gotten in, but this is the most excited i’ve seen her be about something in a while, and she worked really hard on her application…” 

“i’m sure she did,” vi states. “what do you need my help with?”

“convincing her to go.” 

“i’d love to help, but i’m not sure i’m someone she’d wanna hear from, especially about this. she was never a fan of me leaving to pursue my dreams.”

“she was never a fan of you leaving,” ekko corrects. “she’s still a fan of you pursuing your dreams.” he juts his chin out at the article stuck to the fridge. 

vi had just assumed that your mom had pinned that up.

“okay.” vi says. “i’ll talk to her.” 

a plateful of semi-burnt s’mores later, and vi and ekko return to the living room with the rest of you. 

vi forgot how nice this felt, all of you cuddled on the couch, ziggy included, watching how the grinch stole christmas. she half expects her mom to walk in through the door without even knocking, shake the snow off her hair, and hold up a batch of pre-baked gingerbread people she’d gotten for the kids to decorate.

but that’s not happening. other than isha, none of you are kids anymore and things can never be the same.

and yet — you glance over at vi and give her a sticky marshmallow smile, and she feels her heart grow three sizes.

….

baby, i swear it’s not what it looks like. the record label thought it would be good promo to get a picture of me kissing under the mistletoe…’tis the season and all that…..cait and i were both really drunk and things got a bit out of hand….but it looks worse than it is. i swear on my mother’s grave that nothing happened.

please call me back, baby…..i’m so fucking sorry….please. 

it’s not christmas without at least hearing your voice. 

….

track 4: river by joni mitchell

(winter — age 23)

it’s hard to believe that hours ago, you were kissing vi backstage and showering her with praise after the concert. she was happy to indulge in your excitement, even though she was all sweaty and her ears were still ringing from the crowd. 

more than happy, in fact. phone sex can only go so far, and it’d been too long since vi had seen you writhe and heard you whimper for her firsthand. 

“i missed you so fucking much,” you groan, tightening your grip on vi’s hair. it’s now an inky black instead of fuschia — the band’s starting to lean more punk rock. 

a particularly hard thrust is her way of telling you that she missed you too. so fucking much. she throws your legs over her shoulders, pushing the strap deeper inside you and digging her knees into the mattress as she coaxes you through another orgasm. you pull her down for one last searing kiss, your tongue searching each crevice of her mouth. 

“i can’t believe you’re here,” vi continues a few moments later, after you’re both cleaned up and getting dressed. she wants to add something along the lines of i love you, but she bites back the sentiment. she’ll save that sappy shit for later tonight, when she finally gets down on one knee for you. 

you glance back at her from where you’re pulling out a sparkly silver dress from your side of the closet (and isn’t that such a slip of the mind? your side, as if it’s a shared closet and a shared bedroom and a shared home; if she thought about it more, though, she would realize that, though she has no problem asking you to marry her, she’s still terrified at the thought of staying in one place for more than a few months).

“me neither,” you smile. 

vi walks over to you, presses her half-dressed body against your lingerie-clad form (vi’s sure you wore this fuschia set just to drive her insane; it’s working). she lodges her hand behind your ear and pulls you in closer, kisses you deeply because you’re here and she missed you so fucking much and she’s so ready to make you her wife.

she could write a whole record just about the taste of your lips: the sweetness of vanilla chapstick, the saltiness of sweat and the headiness lingering from the wetness you lapped up from between her legs.

you pull away first. vi tries not to stare at how your chest heaves, your breasts straining against intricate lace. 

“we, um.” you clear your throat. you slip your hand underneath vi’s blazer, and she groans when you make contact with the exposed, burning skin of her abdomen. vi thinks you’re about to suggest another round, or two, or ten, but instead you untangle yourself from her and say: “we should probably get ready.”

the after party is going well. the club’s busy, the music’s good, and the drinks are flowing.

you seem to be having a great time until someone (probably cait or maddie, on cait’s behalf) lets it slip that the band’s heading to london later in the month to start recording their new album before the end of the year….something vi decidedly did not want to tell you until later tonight, after the high of the proposal, after she’s promised you that she’s dedicated to this relationship, that she’s always been dedicated to you. 

instead, vi’s trailing behind you as you angrily stomp towards the bathroom, her mind scrambling to come up with a way out of this argument.

there’s a line, but you cut in front and slip inside as soon as someone walks out. 

“wait, what the fu —”

you slam the door and lock it behind you once you’re both inside, ignoring the subsequent banging and jiggling of the handle.

“please, baby, let me explain —”

“i can’t fucking believe you,” your voice is steady, measured, and for some reason that makes vi even more nervous. “you give empty promise after empty promise that you’ll be more present, but something always gets in the way, is always more important than —”

“don’t you dare say that you’re not important to me. i offer to fly you out anywhere to be with me, but you’ve only taken me up on the offer once. twice, now.”

“it’s been five years, vi. five years of us staying together because….god, at this point i don’t even know why — ”

“do you not understand how much i love you?” vi raises her voice over the sound of the club music outside. “i was gonna propose tonight.”

you stare at her, then start to laugh.

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i’m not.”

“if you think marriage will save us, then you’re delusional. what was your plan — call me your wife while we’re thousands of miles apart, but not even have the time to answer my calls? we’re barely in a relationship now, vi. all that’s left between us are missed calls and voicemails —” 

“oh that’s really all that’s left between us?” 

“i love you, violet. i have since we were kids. but, now, there’s also all this — the parties, the crowds, the fame….you’ve gone all over the world, and you can’t even be bothered to visit your family during the holidays.”

“well i’m sorry that my ambitions are bigger than that nothing town we grew up in,” vi snaps. “i can’t believe you’re throwing a tantrum because i’m not making it home for christmas. for what? so we can all reminisce by the fireplace, pretend that we can be kids again, even though things can —” vi chokes back a sob, soothes it with a healthy dose of anger. “things can never be the same. you need to grow the fuck up.”

“maybe you should be the one to grow up!” you finally yell. “convincing yourself that this relationship is working, meanwhile you’re running away from everything and everyone you grew up with because it reminds you of your —”

“at least i’m not afraid to actually go after my dreams,” vi cuts you off before you can finish that sentence, uses the broken shards of your words against you. “don’t you want more for your life than finger-painting with a bunch of kindergarteners? you’re gonna end up just like your deadbeat mom, going nowhere, drinking yourself to sleep, all alone, with nothing to show for the life you’ve lived.”

as soon as the words leave her mouth, vi wishes she could take them back. you don’t bother swallowing your tears, letting them rush down your cheeks. vi digs her nails into her palms to prevent herself from reaching out and wiping them. it wouldn’t make sense, anyways. she’s the reason you’re crying. 

you take a deep, shaky breath.

“yeah, well, i’m glad that your mom isn’t alive to see what a selfish asshole you’ve become.” there’s a pause, and vi feels her stomach turn at your casual cruelty, your quiet anger. “i’m gonna pack up my stuff and catch the first flight out of here. merry fucking christmas and happy fucking new year. have a nice life.”

vi screams and throws the velvet box against the door you’ve slammed shut behind you. the hot tears that were building in her throat finally boil over. the engagement ring clatters onto the floor.

…..

vi? it’s me. not sure if you’ve blocked my number. i wouldn’t blame you. i know it’s been, like, a year, but it feels weird not hearing your voice for this long, especially around the holidays. well, i guess i could just turn on the radio….it’s not the same, though. anyways, merry christmas. happy new year, too. and….and i’m sorry. 

please come home.

…..

track 5: i’ll be home for christmas by dolly parton 

(winter — now)

karaoke at the last drop used to be one of vi’s favorite christmas traditions, so you decidedly avoided it at all cost since the breakup. vander always tried to convince you to join, but he understood and even made sure to not give you a shift during that time after you started working there at 21. 

you kept the job because, evidently, high school art teachers don’t make a ton of money, and you would one day like to move out of your mother’s house. 

which, as it turns out, might happen sooner rather than later. you applied for this artist residency in new york, and, yeah, you put time and effort and heart into your application, but you were sure that you’d be rejected. while you got your acceptance email this morning, and you were so fucking overjoyed at first, the thought of leaving still terrifies you, so you’ll postpone worrying about that until after the holidays. that’s what they’re for, anyways: a break from reality, a peek into a cozy snow-covered world where everyone is festive and joyous and worry-free.   

right now though, you’re feeling neither festive nor joyous. gert called in sick, and no one else is able to cover for them, so you’re stuck at the last drop on christmas eve, listening to one of your old high school classmates drunkenly fumble the lyrics of darlene love’s ‘christmas (baby, please come home).’

about three verses in, vi walks into the bar with mylo and claggor, flakes of fluffy snow melting into her grayish pink hair. you’re already pouring their drinks before they reach the counter. mylo and claggor offer their sincere appreciation, chattering away as they leave to snag a booth in the corner. vi stares at her drink before grabbing the beer glass. 

“you remember.” 

“are you surprised?”

vi smiles. “no. it’s just nice. cait keeps insisting i order gin martinis instead. says it’s classier.” 

something sour curdles in your stomach. “yeah, well. i’ve always liked you the way you are.”

that probably ended up sounding like you’re still pining after vi (which you’re….not) rather than the bitter comment you intended it to be. 

vi’s soft blue eyes search yours. 

“i better get back to the boys,” she finally says. “maybe sign up for a song or two.”

you’re busy clearing a table when you hear her voice again. actually — a silence fills the bar, and it’s replaced by the lush rumble of vi singing ‘last christmas.’

you watch her as she performs, eyes locked on yours, and it’s over before you know it. you feel like you should go say something to her, but then there are a bunch of excited fans that she has to attend to, signing autographs, taking photos.

as you swallow your disappointment, the normal chatter of the bar resumes. you’re walking back to the kitchen when you feel someone pinch the back of your thigh, right under your ass. you whip around to find that old classmate who butchered a christmas classic an hour or so before (james, you think his name is, from ninth grade science), with the most arrogant smirk.

“hey, gorgeous. my friends and i were just arguing over who should take you home tonight.” he gestures towards a table of guys who look like equally preppy assholes. “i won the chugging contest.”

“good for you,” you say, balancing a tray of empty glasses. “grope someone in here again, and you’ll be sorry you did.” you turn around to get back to work, but james grabs your wrist and stands up abruptly so you’re chest-to-chest.

“i don’t think you understand what i’m offering, baby.” you gag at the nickname and the stench of beer on his breath. you’re a bartender, you’re used to getting hit on, but creeps like this are the worst.

you rip away from his grasp. 

“i’m not interested,” you snap. “and i’m not your baby.”

“listen.” james puts his hands on your shoulders, and if both of your hands were free, you would promptly push him away. everyone’s having a good time and you don’t wanna cause a scene, so you try to think of ways to get this asshole out of the bar and into the snow without much of a fight. “you know, santa might come down your chimney on christmas eve, but if you’ve been a good girl this year i’ll come down your —” 

“there you are!” powder’s voice is loud over the sound of someone singing another generic christmas carol. she knocks into your side, breathless. “sorry we’re late. had some car trouble.”

“well, hello.” he removes his hands from your shoulders, shifts his predatory gaze from you to powder. 

oh, fuck no.

“powder,” you keep your voice steady even if your heart is racing. “go back to the table. i’ll be there in a sec.”

james reaches out for powder, but you punch him square in the jaw before he can so much as touch her, the tray of glasses crashing on the floor. 

james’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only egotistical, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a blow to their ego. 

in fact, he’s angry enough to deliver a punch right back to your face.

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but powder manages to catch you before you tumble into the broken glass. she holds you as people start yelling. you think that vander rushes over, too, shouting at james to get the fuck out of his bar and never step foot in it again. 

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is all a bit fuzzy. powder tries her best, but you slump your body weight into hers and she almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” vi’s surprisingly calm voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. 

somehow, you find yourself in the bathroom, sitting on the counter as vi stands between your legs. she carefully examines your injury, but you notice how she avoids making eye contact. 

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while.

“remember teaching me how to throw a punch?” the question slips past your lips before you can stop it.

vi looks slightly amused, and she finally meets your gaze. “‘course i do,” she hums. “you tried to convince me to help you start an all-female fight club at school.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the pain from your nose.

she remembers. 

somewhere within her, vi holds on to fragments of you.

“thank god the principal vetoed it. would’ve been a disaster,” she continues.

vi wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of her silk red button-down now stained a darker crimson. “how’s your hand?” she asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

vi smiles sadly. “i guess you’ve been the one protecting my sister while i’ve been away.”

while i’ve been away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart. 

vi’s back home, sure, but only for a limited time. 

her fingers graze your cheek, and the breath hitches in your throat.

“you know, i only wanted to start that fight club as an elaborate plan to spend more time together,” you confess, opting to preserve the delicate bubble of nostalgia you’d stumbled into together. “we were each so busy….i had studio, and you were always away at hockey games. it wasn’t realistic in the end, though.”

“i would’ve stayed if you asked,” she tells you, and you wonder exactly what she might be referring to. 

you swallow the lump in your throat. “it’s what you loved, though.”

“but i - i loved you, more. you had to have known that.”

“yeah, well. i loved you, too,” you explain, and it’s clear that neither of you are talking about a lesbian fight club. “whether it was hockey, or music….as long your heart was in it, it was more worth it to let you go, to not stand in the way of your dreams.” 

“you were my dream.”

you scoff, cheeks heating up, and look away. “you probably say that to all the girls.”

“no.” vi guides your chin towards her. “just the one.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on vi’s— messy, urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. she cradles your face in her hands, and you wrap your legs around her waist to bring her closer. you taste beer on her tongue, and maybe a hint of lime, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the adrenaline, but dizzy from her. vi’s gaze is heavy on yours as she traces your top lip with her thumb.

“vi,” you whimper, itching to kiss her again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

vi wipes away the blood with the sleeve of her shirt. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s a knock on the door. vander, wondering if you’re okay and if maybe you could hurry up and get back to work. 

you can’t sleep that night. before, staying up on christmas eve was an elaborate operation to catch santa. now, it’s overthinking a very hot kiss and all the unresolved tension between you and your ex-girlfriend next door. 

logically, you knew that you missed vi, everything about her and who she is, the way you would laugh and argue and make love. but the rush of feeling her tongue licking into your mouth, her body melding into yours after being apart for so long….

you’re scared that she won’t feel the same, but you’re even more terrified of letting the moment slip through both your fingers without at least trying. 

so, you grab your phone, deciding to finally reach out to her, when by some christmas miracle you get a text from her.

she climbs through your window not long after, wearing plaid boxer shorts and a zaun university sweatshirt you’ve been looking for, for about five years. you didn’t bother to change, either, only wearing an oversized shirt. you sit cross-legged on your bed as she waits by the window. vi stares at your chest for a good few seconds, and you remember that you’re wearing one of her band’s concert tees, faded from years of wear. 

“so, um,” vi starts, her voice as soft as the well-worn cotton of your shirt. “we have so much shit to talk about and figure out, but, i, uh, can’t stop thinking about early tonight —”

“vi.” the swarm of butterflies in your stomach is replaced by something more delicate, more urgent. “do you wanna come sit?”

vi swallows thickly, looking between you and the still open window. a winter breeze rushes through. you shiver, thinking she might just turn around and disappear into the cold night. instead, she shuts the window, removes her snow-covered boots, and settles onto the bed next to you.

you place a tentative hand on her cheek, still cold and slightly flushed. she shudders when you run your thumb over the tattoo under her eye.

“i know there’s a lot we have to work through.” you take a deep breath as she shifts closer, suddenly dizzy from the familiar scent of her winter pine old-spice body wash. “right now….right now, i just want you.”

“yeah?” vi smirks, her shyness melting away. she settles a warm hand on your bare thigh. “how do you want me?”

you exhale sharply when her hand travels higher, dull nails scraping at the fabric of your underwear. 

“it’s cute that you’re flustered,” she quips, leaning in even closer. her breath is warm and heavy against your lips. “because i’ve spent so many night replaying all the dirty, nasty things we used to —”

you tug her sweatshirt and pull her back onto the bed, feeling her body solid against yours. the vibration of her groan shudders through your body when you crash your lips onto hers with such hunger, you’d think you had been starving without her. 

“how’s about an encore, superstar?” you drawl. 

you bite your lip hard at how vi nods at you desperately, eyes all dark and lustful.

“you read my mind,” she breathes. by now, her hand has reached the hem of your shirt, and she pushes up the cotton to reveal the supple skin of your stomach. you give her permission to remove it, leaving your top half exposed.

her lips nip and suck down your body until she reaches the waistband of your panties. she pulls it up with her teeth, the elastic snapping back when she lets go. you whine her name, and she looks up at you with dark eyes. 

“can i?” her breath fans over your navel, her nails digging into your hips as she waits for your answer.  

“yes. please.”

you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel vi smirk against your inner thigh before sinking her teeth into it. you whimper, and vi salves her tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. she positions your legs over her shoulders for better access to where you need her most.

vi moves her tongue and fingers in all the ways she remembers makes you shake, curl your toes, and grind down on her face. in return, you grip her pink hair, tightly, and utter praise in all the ways you remember makes her shake. 

“just like that, pretty girl,” you encourage, practically melting into the mattress. it feels so good — dangerously good, intoxicating, even — to be devoured by vi.  “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”

vi’s moan vibrates throughout your body and she becomes faster, reaches her tongue deeper, bringing you over the edge. she leaves a few more bites on your body on her way up to meet you and when she does, vi’s lips and chin are shining with your release.

you lean forward slightly to lick it up. you ghost your mouth over hers.

“your turn,” you taunt and run your thumb over her tattooed cheek. 

you twist your calf around vi’s leg and flip your positions. she lets out a yelp when her back hits the mattress. once you’re hovering over her, legs and arms on either side of her body, you do what you’re sure you’d never get tired of doing: you kiss her, passionately, deeply. you bite her lip as you pull away. 

there was always a bit of jealousy that gnawed at you, became your very-own shoulder devil that you just couldn’t shake when you were together, no matter how hard you tried. it was no secret that vi was admired by many, that girls around the world were crushing on her, hoping they’d catch her eye, get their chance with her. you never felt like she was yours, and yours alone. 

but you do get a deep satisfaction knowing that right here, right now, you’re the only person who gets to see her like this — pink hair splayed across the pillows like her very own halo, but the rest of her telling a much less-angelic, much more sinister story: her lips swollen and kiss-bitten, her cheeks a devilish shade of red, her eyes dark and lustful and waiting for you to make the next move. 

"you want me to have my way with you?" you whisper, voice honeyed with desire.

vi whimpers, a sound that fuels the fire in your abdomen. "yes."

you practically rip off her sweatshirt, kiss down her jaw, her neck, her exposed chest and sternum down to her stomach. vi lifts her hips from the bed so that you can remove her boxers, and you’re delighted to find nothing else underneath. 

you’re greeted by her glistening pussy. blowing onto her folds, you run your tongue from her hole to her clit, loving how you already feel her slick coating your lips. vi spread her legs even wider, and you take the opportunity to sink two fingers into her cunt. you know her body, as well as you know your own, as well as she knows yours. you flick your gaze up, view slightly blocked by the pink curls of her bush, but you can still picture it — how her eyes roll back, how her mouth opens to release a perfectly delicious gasp.

"god, i've barely touched you and you're already about to cum. did you miss me that much?" you tease, feeling her clench around your fingers. as if you aren’t subtly rutting your hips against the mattress, eager to ease the throbbing between your legs. 

all you get in response is whine. it’s muffled, and you crane your neck upward to see her biting down on her knuckles, so hard you’re worried she might break skin. 

unacceptable.

the rest of the world gets to hear her every day, any time they please. you want to be serenaded by the lyrics of her want, the notes of her desire. all for you and you alone.

with your other hand, you reach up to pinch one of her pierced nipples, always so sensitive. "answer me, violet."

vi props herself up on her elbows to look at you, just as you remove your mouth from her.

"yes!" she sings, practically sobbing. you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the throbbing between your thighs intensify, hearing the frantic lilt of her voice — like she needs you and only you. "i missed you so fucking much. please, just do something."

at her request, you move up the bed so that the two of you are face to face, one of your hands holding her chin while the other is two fingers deep in her cunt. you add another, just to reveal in the timber of her sultry moan. she tries to bring her hand back, to quiet herself, but you shake your head. 

with your thumb, you trace over her lips, uneven and scarred and imperfectly beautiful. "open." 

vi obeys you instantly. you spit in her mouth, heart racing as you watch her swallow the combination of your saliva and her cum without question.

you continue fucking her with your fingers until she moans, louder and louder as she reaches her peak.

removing your fingers from her pussy, you lock eyes with her as you bring your syrupy fingers to your mouth and suck off her juices. then, you kiss underneath her ear, lips sticking slightly to her skin, and you whisper: "now i know why they say you have the voice of an angel.”

“fuck,” she exhales, the breath turning into a chuckle as you kiss underneath her chin, where you know she’s ticklish.

"one more time for me, okay, pretty girl? i want to feel you against me," you whisper. "i want to watch you fall apart, knowing that i'm the one who makes you feel this good."

vi nods, allowing you to adjust your positions so that your cunts are touching. you start fucking her down into the mattress and she sits up slightly so that your nipples brush against each other, the cold metal of her piercings encouraging the roll of your hips, her nails digging into the curve of your ass to bring you impossibly closer. 

“i missed you too. so fucking much,” you finally admit.  you flick one of the silver rings before leaning down and wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“i missed these, too,” you add as you release her nipple with a pop, and vi moans. you’re grinning from ear to ear because, holy shit, vi is here and you’re together and you’re both happy, if only at the ecstasy of your silken cunts gliding against each other, at the taste of the other slicking your tongues, as thick as nectar and twice as sweet.

she laughs — love and magic and everlasting bliss — and you have to capture her lips now if you want to swallow the sound. you feel it bounce through your ribcage, awaken something deep within you that you feared was lost to time.

vi thrusts her hips upwards, presses harder against the seam of your cunt until you’re gushing against each other, not quite sure who’s making what mess. 

strings of cum connect you as you remove your body from hers. for a few seconds, you both lay on your backs, staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch your breath. vi drapes an arm over her eyes, chest heaving. 

you throw on some clothes and leave the room, hoping that vi’s still there when you get back.

….

vi worries that if she opens her eyes, she’ll wake up from this dream. 

she’ll be in some uncomfortable bed in london or tokyo or los angeles. the dull ache between her legs would be thanks to some girl who’d be eager to text all her friends and spill all the details about what vi likes in bed, or caitlyn who would tell vi to shave next time, darling, or i won’t let you fuck me again anytime soon.

instead, vi hears the creak of a door opening, feet tiptoeing along the floorboards. the mattress shifts with the weight of someone between her legs, though their body is not touching hers. 

“vi, baby,” a gentle coaxing, a familiar voice, pulling towards something she forgot she needed. her heart soars when she finds you kneeling on the bed, holding a damp towel in one hand and a glass of water in another. 

“yeah?” her voice is hoarse, but her throat doesn’t sting in the same way it does after a concert. it feels tender, well-used, well-loved.

you hold out the cup of water, watch vi eagerly gulp down half of it before she realizes what she’s done.

“shit, i — did you want some?”

you smile and shake your head. “i had some downstairs after my shower.” it’s then that vi registers the water dripping from the ends of your hair, soaking the fabric of her (fine, your) sweatshirt. “i’m gonna clean you up. is that okay?”

vi nods.

okay? okay? vi thinks she might have whiplash. 

it’s been a while since someone has fucked her so well she’d be satisfied for years and then touched her so tenderly afterwards. you run the damp cloth over vi’s sticky, sweaty skin, occasionally leaning down to press soft lips where you’d left teeth marks and bruises before. 

“there.” you throw the cloth on the floor. “so, um. do you wanna stay….?” 

you bite your lip as you wait for vi to answer. you start picking at your nail polish, too. vi sits up and grabs your hand. 

“i do,” she soothes. “do you want me to?”

your smile brightens the entire room and you kiss vi before muttering:

“i do.”

vi slips on her boxers as you settle into the bed next to her, leaving her top half bare. she notices the sketchbook on your bedside table, and she lifts it up at you, a silent question if she can flip through. you take it from her as you shift to sit between her legs, her chest warm against your back. the room’s only illuminated by the string of multicolored christmas lights you’d left on, but vi can see the talent, the passion behind your work as you walk her through your sketchbook. you tell her about the techniques you’ve been working on and new mediums you want to explore, about how you want to make the kind of art that makes people appreciate the beauty in the everyday. 

“i always loved your art,” she muses. vi cranes her neck slightly, places a kiss on your shoulder then one on your cheek. “the world would be more beautiful if you shared it.”

you hum and place the sketchbook on your bedside table. you each shift to your sides, facing each other; vi notches a leg around your hips, and you throw an arm around her waist, fingers trailing down her tattooed back. 

“ekko talked to you, huh?”

“i would have said that even if he hadn’t,” vi promises. “so….have you heard anything yet?”

“well….yeah,” you sigh, smiling shyly. “i got in, actually.” 

“really? that’s amazing, baby.” she beams at you, excitedly cupping your face in her hands, leaving small kisses across your cheeks until you’re giggling. 

“okay, okay,” you laugh. “i don’t know if i’m gonna go yet.”

vi hums knowingly. she presses her forehead against yours. 

“i know you’re scared, baby,” she says softly. “but sometimes it’s just a leap of faith.” 

“i know.” you pause, gnawing at your bottom lip while your eyes fixate on the scar on her upper lip. “can i ask you something?

“anything.”

“when you proposed to me….” her body tenses up, but you brush your hand over her bicep and the tension in her muscles dissipates. “was that a leap of faith? like, were you scared?”

“well, not at first.” she takes a shuddery breath, her voice suddenly small. “i always thought that we’d be together….i just didn’t think through how we’d make it work, i guess. i didn’t mean to mess things up, though.”

“hey.” vi leans into the hand you cup around her cheek. “we both messed up. we never actually talked, you know? but….i’m glad we are, now.” you swallow. “i still love you, vi.”

vi exhales. “you know, girls tell me that they love me pretty much every day.” 

you can’t help it — you roll your eyes, and vi laughs. because, truthfully, her heart has felt more full at your admission of love just now than it ever has for an area of screaming fans.

“there’s a point to this, i promise,” she says, nudging her nose against yours. “i used to get such a thrill from it….but then i think about what you said earlier. my heart — it’s just not in it anymore. all the band is now is drama and gossip and compromises of fame over art, and…. i don’t know. it’s not really what i want anymore. i want to be with you. for real, this time.”

you blink at her; she can feel your chest pulsing against hers like a hummingbird.

“would you, um, if i were to take that leap of faith and do that artist residency, would you —”

“anywhere you wanna go,” vi promises. she thinks about it a bit more….how nice it’s been to be home for the holidays, how nice it would be to come home year round.  “preferably close enough so we can have dinner at home on the weekends.” 

“sounds like a plan,” you smile.

the two of you twist closer underneath the flannel sheets, sink into the mattress, and gaze up at the faded glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to your ceiling until you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

you jolt awake a few hours later, several firm knocks on the door and ekko shouting:

“it’s christmas! get the fuck up before ziggy eats all the bacon!”

beside you, vi protects you from the frosty winter morning. her body radiates warmth, and her eyes flutter open, ever so slightly, as you gently shake her shoulder. 

she groans, turning on her back, rubbing sleep from her eye. 

“i better go.” 

“....yeah.”

you flush when you glance over as vi’s slipping on her sweatshirt, rose-petal bruises delicate across her skin. she opens the window, hair still mussed up, and a gust of frigid air rushes into the room. 

the image is so familiar: vi, one leg in your room and another out the window. you feel like a teenager again, scrambling to get dressed and avoid anyone hearing that you’d snuck your girlfriend into your room late at night. but there’s something else now, too — you imagine this becoming routine: waking up next to each other every day, swapping clothes, kissing over coffee and pancakes at breakfast. a place where the two of you might create some new memories, build a shared life together. and much more, so much more that feels like it could be your reality, sooner rather than later. 

you’re so deep in thought that you don’t notice vi rushing back towards you. she kisses you and kisses you, until your lungs are burning.

"merry christmas, baby,” she mumbles against your lips.

you grin back at her. “merry christmas, vi.”

....

hi baby, i know you’re at studio right now, but i forgot to ask you this morning: how do you feel about sending out holiday cards this year? i know they’re kind of cheesy, but it seems like the type of thing married couples might do…..

anyways, we’ll talk about it when you get home. i’m test-driving this new recipe for brussel sprouts to bring to dinner at my dad’s. 

i’ll see you later. love you!

[milkywayes]

Let all time slow / let all light go I'd block the sun / if you want it done

[a-pastel-edgelord]

You are the closest thing Atsumu's ever had to a best friend, Osamu knows. His brother's faults were often so visible to other kids that it drove them away. Not you though. You simply laughed and called Atsumu a jerk. The rest is history.

Osamu watches from his place on the bench as Atsumu sets up for a spike serve, six steps, the toss, the jump and--

"Don't fuck it up!" Your voice jeers.

Atsumu misses, spectacularly. The ball ricochets off the back wall with a stellar thwump that rings a brief silence into the gym. Osamu sees his brother spin around, a vein in his neck throbbing as he starts to unload on you.

"YOU MOTHERF—"

"Imagine not getting the service ace because the opposite team heckles you!" You cut him off with a jovial smile. "How lame would that be?"

"YOU SCRUB! GET OVER HERE. I'LL KILL YA!"

And off the two of you go, shrieking insults at each other. Osamu makes no move to get out of his seat. Not for the first time, he considers how this strange game of tag could be its own spectator sport. Suna sits next to him, the middle blocker's eyes flitting to the current source of entertainment.

"Not gonna record this shit?"

"No, s'not nearly as entertaining as watching the two of you beat up on each other." Atsumu manages to trap you in a headlock, driving his knuckles into your scalp for a noogie as you kick at his legs. "How long have they been together anyhow?" The question is asked so flippantly, Osamu almost misses it.

"Hah? They're not datin', Suna." That's right. The two of you aren't dating. Not once had Atsumu ever expressed that kind of interest in you, and the same seems to be true in reverse. No longing stares. No pining.

"That so? Could have sworn they were." Suna glances over, his usual apathetic expression almost perfectly in place. However, Rintaro Suna is the closest thing Osamu has to a best friend.

Osamu's mouth goes dry. "Drop it, Sunarin."

Suna holds his stare for another beat before turning away. "You deserve to have what you want, Samu."

"I mean it."

"So do I."

Osamu fights to keep his face in check, fights to restrain himself like always. To hold back just enough so that he doesn't lose his temper. It should be easier by now, to suffer the pointed remarks Suna makes with grace. However, Suna had been the one to witness the smallest of exchanges between Osamu and you. And then, the motherfucker had managed to put two and two together. So here Osamu sits, watching his brother horseplay with you.

You. The one person he could trust Atsumu with, the one person who would be so good for him to fall for... is the same person who crashed through Osamu's walls and took a seat within the inner sanctum of his affections.

Osamu Miya is in love with his brother's best friend and Atsumu would never forgive him for it if he found out.

[shouyuus]

18+, college roommate!vi cinematic universe thigh-riding, questionable vape-usage, oral (vi receiving), smut with a fluffy ending

"s-sweet fuck, pretty girl -- j-just -- just like that --"

you let out a soft whimper, rutting your hips over her flexed thigh, whining as she leans back, a palm resting on your waist, the other clutching her hot pink vape, bringing it up to her lips for a long hit before tugging you down, blowing the dragonfruit-flavored smoke into your mouth.

you suck in, tasting the bright tang of the vape smoke as your pussy clenches, your clit throbbing as you chase your orgasm, grinding down over vi's leg as she groans thick in the back of her throat, her eyes dark and hazed out as she watches you with parted lips.

"like -- like that?" you ask, your voice high and desperate even as vi bites her lips, letting her head fall back against the wall of her room, her cheeks high with color as you reach down and wedge a hand between your bodies, slipping your fingers under the waistband of her boy shorts to thumb clumsily at her clit. she keens, fingers digging into your waist as she jerks you against her, your juices now so sticky on her thighs that it squelches every time you rut your hips forwards and back.

"fuck -- yeah... mm --" she shifts, hoisting you further up just to meld her mouth with yours, licking into your mouth as your pace stutters and you groan, fingers clutching at her shoulders, her biceps, steadying yourself on her arms as she kisses a harsh line down your neck, sucking a deep hickey into the junction of your throat. "shit, you're so -- so hot, so pretty--"

"vi -- vi -- m'so close --" your lashes flutter as you feel the familiar twist in your gut, the warm already spilling through your limbs.

she chuckles, "c'mon princess --" she tugs on your chin, blowing another puff of smoke in your face, smirking when your breath hitches, "look at me -- wanna see your face when you fuck yourself stupid on my thighs --"

the tension in your belly snaps, your whole body shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. and vi -- she guides you through it, groaning out long and low as she feels you twitch over her, your cunt squeezing around nothing as you ride out your own orgasm against her. you eyes flicker but she keeps you upright, forcing you to look at her even as the edges of your vision fizz out into white sparks of pleasure.

she kisses you as you come down, grinning at the way you whine when she pulls away for another hit of the vape, opening her mouth as you press back in, your fingers finding the soaked folds of her cunt, pressing in, her kissing you as smoke wreathes out the corners of your mouths. you trade the same breath back and forth till you lose count, till you can't figure if the sweetness is the smoke or just the tingling addiction of her mouth on yours.

"mm... wow, princess -- that was --" she hiccups as you press a line of sloppy kisses down her neck, the pale, lamp-kissed bend of her shoulder, the small divot between her breasts, pausing to lave your tongue over her nipples, the piercings there cold as you suck them between your soft lips. your revel in the way she gasps then, the way her fingers bite into your skin.

you reach up wordlessly to tug the vape from her slack fingers, her eyes half-lidded and alight with a loose, liquid hunger as she watches you work down the length of her body.

"you're so wet, vi..." you murmur, pressing a kiss to her hipbone, smiling up at her as you tug on the waistband of her boyshorts. she lifts her hips, her cheeks darkening as she clears her throat.

"yeah well -- 's not like you can blame me -- oh shit --"

her head thunks back against the wall as you dig your nose into the thin trail of hair that leads to her sopping folds, the slick there glistening in the wane light. you only allow yourself a second to admire her before bringing the vape to your lips and sucking in a breath of the synthetically sweet smoke, and then you're lowering your mouth to her and pressing your tongue into her slow, moaning long and loud, your eyes fixed on her face, watching for the twitch of her lips, the slack in her jaw.

"jesus christ -- mm-mngh --!"

you fight back a grin as she whimpers, her thighs tightening on either side of your face. her fingers dig through your hair as she forces her eyes open to look down at you, an open, needy expression on her face that you doubt she'd willingly show to anyone else. but the knowledge that you can bring her to such pleasure quickens your own pulse and drives you forward as you give her clit a hard suck and she keens again -- that gorgeous, high, helpless sound even as she presses you harder against her folds and jerks against your face, guiding you into a rhythm that suits her needs.

"fuck, fuck, fuck princess --" she lets out a string of incoherent swears as you feel her shove your face into her harder and harder, and all you can do is offer up your mouth, your tongue, anything and everything you can till she shakes apart above you, her release coating your lips and dripping down your chin.

you lap at it hungrily, savoring the salty-sweet-tang even as she finally relaxes her thighs and you manage to pull yourself up for a breath. your face is sticky, and honestly, so is she, but her laughter is warm when she tugs you up to give you a lingering kiss.

your head is a smoke-filled euphoria of half-formed thoughts as the pair of you collapse, boneless, sweaty, and sated onto her messy sheets. she kicks off her boyshorts, leaving her just as naked as you already were as she curls around you, her arms solid and strong, yours curled against her chest, your fingers splayed over the smooth expanse of her skin, tracing abstract shapes as you turn to face her.

"you got somethin' on your face there, sweets," she says, rubbing at thumb down your slick-covered chin. you crinkle your nose, turning to wipe your face messily against her bicep even as she laughs.

"mm... why didn't we do this sooner?" you ask, curling into her, your faces inches apart.

"what, this like -- smoke each other out and have amazing, mind-blowing sex?" vi asks, grinning.

you giggle, shaking your head, "no! i mean -- well, yes, but like... this.." you reach out and cup her cheek, the touch so gentle it stills you both.

vi sighs, shrugging, "dunno, cupcake. i -- i guess i was caught up in..." her eyes cast about her room, the band posters and hand-scribbled workout notes tacked to her wall, "in wondering if you -- if you felt the same about me, i just..."

you purse your lips around a burgeoning smile, "you just... forgot to ask me?"

vi scoffs, rolling her eyes, "yeah, yeah, whatever. we get it -- you had to make the first move but --" her eyes soften, and so does her voice, "at least we're here now, right?"

"mm," you nod, inching closer, "and we've still got another six months left on the lease."

"six months is a long time," vi says, her voice husky as she rubs a thumb along your cheek.

"yeah... plenty, if we're trying to make up for lost time but..." you hesitate over a held breath, "what happens after?"

"after... we both graduate?"

"yeah."

for a moment, vi's silent. and all around you, the future stretches out like the moonless night, tendrils of shadow reaching like spindled fingers into the unknown future.

"after that... i go wherever you go, cupcake."

you blink, eyes meeting hers, a startled spark of uncertainty rising within you.

"you..."

vi smiles, a crooked, honest thing of lips and teeth. she hooks her ankles around yours and presses your foreheads. her hand comes up to caress the back of your neck.

"if you think i'll ever let you go again after all that... you've got another thing comin', princess."

you let out a relieved laugh, leaning in for a kiss.

"right. i guess the orgasm really was that good, huh?"

vi laughs too then, a soft, breathy sound.

"sure. but really... i mean it. i'm yours, cupcake. for as long as you'll have me."

your lashes flutter; your heart skips. then, you're the one pulling her in for a kiss, one that's sweet as it is consuming. the skin-scalding simmer of a long-burning flame, a spark catching hold on a breath of summer wind.

"i might not be a theoretical physicist, but from what i've heard, forever is a really long time," you say. and vi, to her credit, only takes a second before understanding blossoms in her eyes and she pulling you to her, crushing you in a stomach-turning embrace.

"you're my everything, princess. you know that?"

you bury your face in the crook of her neck and breathe her in. the room smells like sex and sweat and the soft perfume of your shared shampoo. you grin, a giddy heat pluming up your chest to coil at the back of your throat.

"and you're mine, vi."

vi puffs out a breath, her voice just a tiny bit shaky as she cradles your head in her palm.

"yeah. i know, sweets. i know i am."

[promisingyounglady]

accident. | JP x Reader

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Wife!Reader

SYNOPSIS: we all make accidents. javier forgetting to pick you up at the train station was an accident. you forgetting to bring an umbrella was an accident. throwing a knife at your husband? you’re going to have prove that one was an accident to him.

WC: 3.6k

WARNINGS: SMUT, angst, mentions of weapons and knives, reader throws a knife at javier *just read you’ll find out*, implied age gap, established relationship, javier is a bit older than reader, domestic au, slight dom!javi, mentions of food and cooking, profanity, bratty!reader, reader is mean but javier can be meaner, floor sex, creampie, unprotected sex, spanking, handcuffs, cum eating, brief oral (f recieving), slight non-con, rough sex, praise, degradation, post-sex sweetness, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: obsessed and mentally ill. so here’s slightly dom!javi with a ton of angst

A headache ensues in Javier’s mind.

He tries to combat it with the clouds of smoke rising through the air, the comfortable scent of tobacco and cigarettes filling his nose as he takes a drag from the stick perched in between his blistered fingers, this inhale, longer than the last.

Today had been shit. It really had. All day he had been cooped up in the office with stacks of paperwork almost taller than himself, tossed onto him and Murphy's desk by the higher ups, a high demand for deadlines with their patience being low.

Javier had been sitting in his office for almost seven hours straight, looking at papers with tiny writing and filing reports with pen until sensitive pink blisters formed around a hand that should’ve been driving and carrying a gun today, out in the field on a mission another team had instead been tasked with.

He’s getting old for this stuff, and he knows its true when he feels a strain in his back from shifting in his seat.

Maybe that’s why they shoved the paperwork in the old man’s hands.

Javier leans forward, grabbing his almost empty pack of cigarettes from his desk, deciding a fourth one was necessary for tonight.

“Javier,” a voice calls for him, looking up when he sees the new secretary holding the phone facing her chest. “You’ve got a call”

“From who” he says gruffly, brows furrowed. He lights the cigarette with his lighter, tossing it onto his desk and taking another puff.

“It’s your wife,” The secretary states. “she’s asking what you want for dinner.”

Javier stops in the middle of flicking the ashes, letting the cigarette sit warm in his fingers when he turns his head so he could see her correctly.

Your sweet voice calls out through the receiver, a chill running down Javier's spine when he makes out that it really is you.

“Yeah, Sherry, it’s fine if he’s busy, just let him know I called. Tell him dinner’ll be late tonight, at around 10.” you piped up sweetly, saying goodbye to your husband's secretary before hanging up the call.

She leaves after telling him what he already heard, but Javier is quick to immediately put out the burning cigarette and quickly grab his coat, making his way out the office.

“Peña, Where are you going? We only got a few more stacks left” Murphy calls out, hair in a mess from the many stressful tugs and his own cigarette nestled in between his fingers.

“my wife.” Javier replies, suddenly not liking the bitter taste in his mouth.

“It’s raining outside, you’re gonna get drenched” the blonde tells him, shaking his head as he took a drag from his own cancer stick.

Javier stops in his tracks, looking outside the window to see his partner was right. It was pouring out there, hardly able to even make out the cars in the parking lot.

Him getting wet was the least of his worries. It was you, he was thinking of.

“Fucking hell.”

_

You set the receiver down on the living room table. The ticking of the clock resonating in the silent house before a sigh finally escaping your lips.

Droplets of rain water cloud your vision, cheeks pink from the cold as water dripped onto your wooden floorboards.

Fists clench and unclench around the handle of the umbrella given to you by an old lady at the train station.

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t be alone in the rain, mija” she insisted, letting you take her frilly umbrella as her son would pick her up shortly.

Javier was supposed to pick you up too.

But after forty minutes of standing out in the rainy weather under a flimsy roof as you waited for his truck to pick you up, you disappointedly caught a taxi and drove home by yourself

You were returning from your visit to your sick grandmother. You were her only granddaughter who she called the week prior, telling you how she missed you and wanted you to visit.

Javier insisted you went, not wanting to hold you back and assured he would come to pick you up at the station after the weekend spent with her.

What a fucking liar, you thought to yourself.

You quickly undressed your wet clothes, the outcome of having to have walked in rain to find an available taxi this evening.

You're curious to see the look on Javier’s face when you make him beg on his knees and ask for forgiveness. Maybe you wouldn’t even kiss him tonight, thinking in silence as you prepared for dinner.

You definitely weren’t trying to think about what an excellent opportunity this was to be a brat.

—

Javier parks into his quiet drive way exactly thirty minutes before 10. That’s thirty minutes of trying to get on your good graces and pray that he wouldn’t be sleeping outside tonight.

When he opens the door to the house, his heart beats fast. Prepared to see you ready to lash out at him, he’s instead surprised with the aromas of spices and your homemade cooking wafting to his nose, unconsciously realizing that he skipped lunch today from how caught up he was with work.

Picking up your wet jacket from the floor, Javier slots his keys and sunglasses in the bowl by the entrance, hanging his own jacket as well before he makes his way quietly to the glowing kitchen.

The stovepot is on a low boil, and he sees you in a long t-shirt, one that you made sure wasn’t his. Your hair is damp, probably from a shower as you swiftly work your hands away in prepping the vegetables.

Javier mumbles quietly in a gruff voice. “You, uh, left your coat on the floor.”

Thwack.

An aggressive chop at the carrots replaces your words, each cut piercing louder like a gunshot ringing in his ears.

“Hermosa, I am so sorry.“ Javier begins sighing because he knows he fucked up real bad this time.

Thwack. You moved onto the chicken meat.

“There’s no excuse baby, I wasn’t keeping track after being cooped up in the office today.” he sighs, brows furrowing as big brown eyes stared into your back.

Thwack. Thwack.

The DEA agent flinches at the sound of the raw chicken being butchered by your swift, angry hands. You’re not facing Javier directly and yet he can already see your glaring eyes. He sighs, not wanting to fight you. He tries to lighten the mood, voice soft as he comments.

“Qué te ha hecho ese pobre pollo”

You don’t reply, let alone acknowledge your husband, continuing to brutally dice the chicken on the cutting board before turning around to wash your hands.

Javier watches you swiftly work in your kitchen, feeling sorry as he still watches you prepare dinner for the two of you after such a long train ride.

He moves forward, rolling his sleeves as he tries to help you . “Querida, I’ll help with the pot-”

The clang of the knife hitting the cutting board echoes in the kitchen, finally looking up to face your husband. Javier leans back, resting against the kitchen counter, arms crossed and gun holsters unremoved after coming home.

You try to ignore how tired he genuinely looks, reminding yourself you were just the same when standing all alone for that one hour.

“Y’know what Javier?” You begin, eyes watering and nose twitching in anger. Javier stays silent, staring at you with sincerity.

“Fuck you” you spit, pointing an accusing finger at the man. “fuck you and your fucking DEA work, Javier”

“Mi-”

“I had to wait forty minutes outside in rainy weather, trying to see if every car passing by would be yours.” you said, voice breaking towards the end. You felt uncomfortable waiting by yourself.

Javier shuts his eyes, forehead wrinkling as he tries to calm you down. He draws your name out in a firm but gentle tone.

You ignore him, replacing his words with your attitude. “You always do this!” you exclaim, voice rising.

“Leaving your wife and family second while you think it’s cool to go and chase criminals while risking your goddamn life.” You mutter, glaring at your husband.

“I didn’t want to leave you at the station all alone, honey. I’ve been sitting at my desk since afternoon drowning in paperwork the higher-ups dumped on us” he presses, eyes sincere but patience wearing thin.

You scoff, shaking your head. “So even stupid paperwork makes you forget your wife.”

Javier pinches his nose bridge, his head pounding as he tries to communicate with you.

You go back to cutting your vegetables, mumbling under your breath. “Who the fuck in Bogotá is giving you credit for slaving away all day trying to catch Escobar, hm?”

The words pierce through Javier’s heart.

Your eyes light up in fake sarcasm. “Oh, I bet it’s the fact that you’re too busy being a fucking doormat to all the younger agents at work aren’t you? What, Murphy said he can’t do his share of the work so he gave you his leftovers?” You spit.

“Hey," Javier snapped, gruffly and darkly. He looked at you, eyes narrowed and dark. "Stop it. I've told you."

Anger gets the best of you as you turn to the cutting board. Grabbing the first thing you saw.

A carrot piece shoots in his way. Javier flinches, the food hitting his chest. Your husband stands there, stunned at his wife’s childish behavior.

“Go fuck yourself, Peña” you say menacingly.

“We don’t throw food in this house, mama” he barks, hands on the hips of his belt, gun and badge tucked in his back. He would never use them on you.

A celery stick slaps Javier in the face this time, making his patience hanging on by a thread even thinner.

Maybe he could whip out the handcuffs.

“Dont you fucking call me that!” you said spitefully, throwing anything and everything you could at the man who dodged your attacks.

“Querida!” Javier raises his voice at you, a growl in his words.

You felt the cold, hard material in your hands for a split second before you’re throwing it at him, almost wondering yourself why you were getting so angry at Javier.

You didn’t want to fight this bad, but at the same time you were sick of watching him work himself to death, forgetting about you. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this.

But you already crossed that line. You both stand in silence, holding your breath as you realized what you threw.

Now it was your turn to fuck things up.

Javier’s lip snarls and his mustache is in a scary frown when he shifts his head.

Only a few inches beside his face lands a dull potato knife, wedged in the kitchen cupboards above. It wouldn’t have worked on anything since it was unsharpened and unused, but the tremendous force you had thrown it with allowed it to have been lodged in the wood.

You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

You both watch Javier slowly raise his hand, pulling the knife inches beside his head with ease before tossing it into the sink. The clatter of the metal blade hitting the sink rings in the kitchen. A swarm of guilt fills your chest as you stand still in fear.

“Javi… I-I’m so sorry” you say, heart beating against your chest, cautiously awaiting a reaction from him.

Javier dusts off the carrot peels on his shoulder, watching as his jaw tenses but shoulders relax.

“Come here.” he all but says quietly. You see Javier reaching for his back pocket, taking out his gun and badge and placing it on the counter.

That wasn’t what scared you.

What scared you was then seeing Javier pull out the silver handcuffs lodged in his back pocket. Your eyes widened at the sight of him playing around with them.

“Javi, I’ll go get the-“

“Come. Here.” Javier cuts you off, staring at you with dark eyes.

You swiftly shake your head, refusing to go. “It was an accident!” You exclaimed, dashing out the kitchen as you tried to escape Javier who was hot on your heels.

“Honey.” he says in a not so endearing way, a warning edge to his voice.

Tears littered your cheeks, knowing that you pushed Javier’s limits and that he would really punish you for how bratty you had been tonight.

You gasp, running up the stairs before strong arms encaged your frame, desperately trying to escape before shrieking in surprise as Javier hoisted you over his shoulder, a loud and painful smack being brought down to your ass by his strong hands. You grimaced, helplessly being brought to the kitchen in swift strides.

”It was an accident, I’m sorry, I was just so angry!” You wailed, groaning as your back hit the carpeted floors of your living room. Your vision was hazy, the dizziness getting to you as you saw Javier leave the room into the kitchen, and come back a few moments later. This time, he was unbuttoning his shirt, his forest of chest hair and strong muscles peeking through.

Javier took a deep breath, eying the way your t-shirt had hiked all the way up so your panties were showing. Your hair spread around your head like a halo, and he noticed how you clenched your thighs together in vulnerability.

“Some accidents need to be punished, baby” he muttered darkly.

You sobbed softly, nose red as you turned your head to the side, looking away from Javi’s menacing look. He didn’t mind, he knew once he was done messing with you, you would be clawing at his chest, begging him to fuck you properly while looking into his eyes. Javier leans down at your level, crawling on your body so he was on top and you were trapped on the bottom. He rips your t-shirt off of you, leaving you in your bare state with panties flimsy enough he could rip them with his teeth. Not today though, he had other things in mind.

He coos at your weak state, dropping his head so he could press a kiss to your sensitive neck, giving a small nip that made you yelp. Two large hands come to play with your nipples, pulling each one hard in between his fingers as you moaned hysterically.

“What did I say about being fucking mean?” He says roughly. He inhales your scent, smelling a sweet sense of fear.

“Carino,” a warm voice calls out, you can feel the grin spreading on Javier’s face. You cry in a mix of pain and pleasure when he flips you on your tummy, cheek pressing against the rough carpet material as Javier slots his hard member encased in his jeans, right by the curve of your ass.

“Answer me, mama”

A clinking of metal makes you cry out in protest. No, you wanted to say, feeling Javier cuff you behind your back like you were one of his petty drug thiefs. But a slap to your ass cheek makes you gasp, eyes shutting as Javier pulls your panties off.

”Being mean gets me punished” you responded softly, a pool of desire aching in your folds as you almost tutted your ass up to show him you were ready. “I’m sorry, Javier” you sniffled quietly, hoping he would hear.

Javier laughs, cocking his head to the side as one hand groped the flesh of your bum, and the other undid his belt buckle. The sound makes your mouth water, wondering if he’ll let you suck him off too for forgiveness.

“So you do know how to be nice?” He groans, giving you no time before his hard members penetrates your entrance, head turning back and eyes rolling when you clenched around his dick so well. “Javier!” You screamed, eyes rolling back in pleasure from the strong stretch.

Your arms ached, desperate for release so you could brace yourself against the floor for every hard thrust your husband would give you.

“Listen carefully, querida” he moans into your ear, humping you as you moaned loudly. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me fill you up, alright?” When there was no answer, he slapped your cheek again, this time echoing throughout the living room and leaving a red splotch on your ass. “Answer me.” He growled, patience growing thin from your pathetic wailing.

You grit your teeth, hating the fact that you were supposed to be mad at Javier for forgetting about you, and yet here you were receiving back shots with a stinging red ass.

”Yes, Javier” you said back, feeling his girth stretch your walls.

”Good. And once I’m done fucking my pretty wife, you’re gonna suck me off like you mean it. That sounds good mi amor?”

You nodded in return, eyes shut and panting like a slut from the feeling of Javier slowing down his thrusts, deepening every stroke.

“Yes, Javier” you repeated.

He smiled, kissing your neck sweetly, contrasting his hip movements. “Thank you, mama” he replied, cherishing your sweet moans and gasps as he went at a deeper, harder pace.

It’s delirious, the whole situation. You feel as though you’re on cloud nine with the way Javier is so possessive of you, caging you like a butterfly in his garden with the apple of desire.

You felt sinful. You felt glorious. You needed his release to fill you up so badly.

“Javi…” you muttered, tits starting to get carpet burn from being fucked against the ground.

“I know mama, you’re doing so good for me. Taking your lesson so well” he groans, sweat beading at his forehead.

You were aching and begging for orgasm, but feeling Javier rut into you so passionately made it all worth it. It dissolved any anger, any resentment from earlier because you knew how good he could take care of you.

“You’re so fucking mean sometimes, you know that?” he tells you, brows furrowed and concentrated on fucking the daylights out of you. You could feel the handprints marking your hips, wondering how many of Javier’s marks would be on you tomorrow morning.

“I know” you sigh, feeling a slap come down on your ass as you groan louder.

“You’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, you know that too?” you pant, squirming under your cuffs. Javier shudders, your walls sucking him a little too well.

“I know.” He says back gruffly.

Javier feels the knot untying in his stomach, too late to tell you verbally as you felt his warm seed leak inside, cumming first.

“Merida”

You were also close, loving how despite already coming, Javier was fucking you so that you could cum too.

”I’m gonna” you pant, forgetting to finish your words as you felt hot liquid threatening to spill from every stroke he made in your hole.

Javier whispers, pressing ticklish kisses from his mustache to your bare shoulder. “Cum on my cock, baby, you know what to do” he muttered, both of you groaning loudly as both your releases became mixed inside you.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you scream, hair a mess and pussy aching.

You feel dizzy, used but happy, shivering as a large sludge of your cum spills out and drips down your thigh to the carpet.

Javier is quick to lap you up with his tongue, slotting his face in your ass as he filthily cleans you up.

“Can you get these off me, please?” you ask him meekly, relishing the feeling of your sensitive wrists when they touch the cool air.

Your husband presses a kiss to each one, marking your ass and shoulders with playful hickeys and bruises.

You both catch your breath for a moment, Javier turning you over so you were facing the ceiling, your sensitive tits perking up.

It’s all so sudden but before you two realize it, you’re latching onto each other immediately, hungrily sharing a kiss as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Hermosa,” he tries to begin, before being shushed by you, pulling him back in to lovingly kiss your husband.

Sure, rough sex was great, but god did you love just kissing Javier absentmindedly. You had to touch each other, kiss each other, that was how you two made up.

“Lo siento, hermosa” he sighs, wanting to get lost in your embrace. You smile, knowing that Javier is sincere. “Me too.” You reply, voices hushed as it was now later in the night, the neighbors probably aware of what had happened next door. A moment passes.

“Didn’t you say you wanted me to suck you off?” you asked innocently, gazing up at Javier as your head rested on his chest.

He grins, softly whispering a later as he played with your hair, cock soft against his thigh as your leg nudges it playfully.

He growls, nipping your ear. “Behave” he says firmly, cheeks rosy. This time you listen.

“Who picked you up today then if I didn’t come?” Javi asks, reaching over to wrap a blanket around you two near the fireplace.

You smile, knowing that you can’t always listen to Javier’s warnings. “Just some cute young taxi driver. Asked me for my number y’know” you grinned.

Javier looks down, eyes darkening as he mutters softly. “Unless you’re gonna be a brat again, you better watch yourself” he reaches for your mound, cupping you softly so you moan in pleasure, still sensitive from the previous activities. He hoists you above his stomach, feeling your nails scratch his pudge and bend down as you give him a kiss. “I’m just messing with you” you giggle, a familiar feeling coming back when his bare cock is nestled by your thighs. “He was old. A grandpapi” you said, feeling his hands roam the flesh of your ass.

You press a hand against Javier’s chest, giggling as you peck his jawline. He rolls his eyes, hands wrapping around your waist instinctively.

“I missed you.” he mutters, feeling you up.

You smile, remembering how warm it is on top of your husband before you shut your eyes softly.“Me too.”

You look up, apologizing to him. “Sorry for almost stabbing you with that knife”

You feel the vibrations and sounds of a loud chuckle, Javier holding on to you. “It was an accident” you mumble, circling shapes on his skin. He knows.

You make up for it by leaning in, pressing kisses under the shell of his ear. Whispering how you’ll let him stuff his cock in your mouth again to get even.

Fuck it, he thinks. He’d let you kill him anyday.

[emmyrosee]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a modern!au sukuna x fem!reader in which they're dating and they're babysitting little yuji for the day, going to the park, grocery store, or whatever, and some old lady thinks yuji is their son and sukuna and reader had yuji as teens so she starts judging, making comments and kinda insulting them for having a kid so young. (but yuji is just sukuna's little brother)

I hope what I said made sens 😅 and feel totally free to ignore my request if you don't want to do it or if you're not taking requests at the moment :)

tw// mean old ladies, insinuations of s3x in teenage years, sukuna talking back, lots of swearing, mentions of death, I wouldn’t normally put warnings but juuuuuuuuuust in case

There’s a scoff that rings out in the air as the last of your footstep passes her. It’s enough to make Sukuna stop on impact. You turn to him, and Yuuji in his stroller looks up to see what the stop is, but Sukuna’s eyes are firm in annoyance, the vein in his forehead pulsing.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, spinning on his heel. “Is there a problem, maam?” His voice dribbles sarcasm, and you feel your heart rate pick up from anxiety.

When you turn to face the old woman, her face is twisted in judgement, wrinkles furrowed deeper than natural as she glares past Sukuna and burrows her sights onto you. A chill shrills down your spine as her cold gaze fixes on you.

“Babies having babies,” she snarls cruelly, and you see Sukuna’s knuckles lighten from the force of gripping the handles. “You couldn’t keep it in your pants, and you couldn’t close your legs, hmm? Reproducing when you shouldn’t be. You ought to be embarrassed.”

You cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but when you look up at sukuna again, his grin is curled devilishly. You sigh, “sukuna, come on-“

“No,” he hisses. “I want to hear what the crypt keeper’s gotta say. One foot in the grave, one on a fucking oil spill and you’re wasting your breath spilling bullshit? You oughta be embarrassed.”

She clutches her chest in offense, “I can’t stand you youths these days, wasting your life on each other, disappointing your parents. Why they’d ever approve of you keeping that sin in the carriage is ridiculous.”

You’re quick to grab Sukuna’s collar and keep him from launching at the lady. He’s not happy about being stopped, he’s practically frothing at the mouth in rage, but at your grip, he stands down.

His mouth however, does not.

“I’m offended people like you even get to breathe my air,” he snarls, and you try to ignore the look the old lady gives you- she looks almost prideful to be getting such a reaction. “That child is not sin, that’s my fucking little brother- and even if it was, if you looked at him and the first thing you thought of was my girlfriend and I smashing, you need to tell your fucking hospice nurse, you pervert.”

“Sukuna-“

“It’s not my fault nor concern that your husband died from an asthma attack your dusty old pussy gave him, but if you ask me, he dodged a fucking bullet because holy fuck if I had to spend my days waiting for you to die first, I’d pull the plug myself.”

“Sukuna!”

“You think you get to sit here and judge my girlfriend, my self, my fucking brother without consequence, you are sadly mistaken. And I sincerely hope that, with the bottom of my soul, that when your decrepit heart finally decides to stop and bless the world by taking your life, no one bats an eye. If this is how you treat strangers with a child, I would love to see how you treat your loved ones. Sit on it and fucking twist, you old bitch.” Then, he flashes her a smile, “have the day you fucking deserve, you twat.”

The woman stares at him, eyes wide and jaw agape. You also, stare at him with wide eyes and an agape jaw, and it isn’t until he wraps his arm around your waist and starts to push the carriage again, that you follow.

“Sukuna,” you say, voice shaky. “Why…?”

“Because no one gets to look at my fucking family in any way other than damn respect,” he growls, fingers digging into your hip from anger. “No one.”

“No, I mean…” you swallow thickly. “Why do people feel the need to be so cruel?”

“The world is cruel,” he says flatly. Then, he sighs and shakes his head, “but I have no issue in putting terrible people in their place. Especially for yuuji. Especially for you.”

You smile softly and lay your hand on his, lacing your fingers with his as they rest on your hip, “we’re lucky to have you then, aren’t we?”

He chuckles, “it’s about time you appreciate it.”

[mediocres-writing-blog]

Mortal Kombat Legends: Blood Bound

Chapter 17: Visions and Memories

Resting in his bed, Nico had trouble falling asleep. Until 2 in the morning, as his eyes were shut, he moved around for a bit, until finally opening his eyes.

ROBIN: This isn’t working.

He said as he turned, and he soon realized his bed was on the other side of the room. 

ROBIN: Oh, kaaaaaay…

He got out of bed, and as he opened the door, he noticed the same interior as the base, except… mirrored? The dim lights illuminated the dark corridors, while black particles hovered around everywhere he walked. He hears some strange noises coming from what seemed like chatter, as he entered the room the noise was coming from, he saw what seemed like a recording of some people fighting in an arena. 

ROBIN: This feels oddly nostalgic. 

As he approached it, it vanished like sand in the wind. He stepped away, and left the room. While turning around, he saw another moving image, one of a young boy with long hair making a metal mask.

ROBIN: Is… that me…?

He tried to touch it, but was hit by a flash of light and bright colors instead. He stepped back, with a feeling of fear in his eyes, and a strange sense of nostalgia in his mind. While seeing other images, some of which events haven't happened yet, he heads off to the exit, and as he leaves, he notices a man in a dark brown cloak, sitting criss-cross. His hands on his knees, palms down, as if he’s meditating. The caped crusader looking at the hooded man, accidentally slams the door shut, causing the ground beneath them to shake. Nico hugged the wall, trying to keep his balance, while the hooded man stood up, taking a deep breath, and breathing out, the ground stopped shaking. He turned around, and Robin knew exactly who he was looking at. 

ROBIN: Tremor? Is that you?! How’ve you been, Mr. Mineral?

He said, walking up to him, and as he’s walking up to Tremor to give him a big hug, he quickly steps away as he notices how insanely hot his forearms were. (I swear, I’m saying hot like it burns, I’m not saying his forearms are sexy)

ROBIN: Right. Not doing that again.

The earth ninja would chuckle at Nico’s comment, his words riverbed through his mask.

TREMOR: It’s good to see you too, Nico Ghai.

Nico’s eyes would wander around. He noticed that the area the base is set is surrounded by dim blue lights and strange vegetation.

ROBIN: So what’s the deal with the base? Was it always like that? Was there a nuclear fallout?

As soon as Tremor opened his mouth, Nico jumped to a conclusion.

ROBIN: Oh God, I’m dreaming, aren’t I?

TREMOR: Well yes, but actually no.

ROBIN: …

ROBIN: What?

Nico looks back at the mineral man, looking move oblivious than those cat images you’d find on Pinterest. 

ROBIN: What do you mean “yes, but actually no”?

Tremor sat down, and from a bag on his right, took a pot of tea and some cups. He uses his Earth Shaping powers to make a small desk and a place for Nico to sit. He sits down, and Tremor reheats the tea with his burning hands, pouring it into Nico’s cup. He takes a sip and quite enjoys it. 

ROBIN: man, this is some nice tea.

TREMOR: Thank you, my friend. Now, you had some questions a minute ago?

Robin puts down his cup, taking in a deep breath.

ROBIN: Oh right, I meant to ask you, am I dreaming or not?

Tremor, as he’s sipping his tea, exhales.

TREMOR: It is complicated. Do you remember when I told you I would go to Dreamrealm all those moons ago?

ROBIN: Yeeaaaaah?

TREMOR: It is a place, a place that enhances one’s psychic and physical self through its own atmosphere. 

ROBIN: I can see what you mean by ‘physical’, you look like you were dipped in a pool of early 2000’s aesthetic and hit the gym right afterwards. But, psychic? 

Nico sipped his tea as Tremor began to explain.

TREMOR: It is hard to explain. But to put it simply, The Dreamrealm is a place that exists and doesn’t at certain points. It is a place that allows certain inhabitants to share their presence with the dreams of others. For as little as I’ve spent here, I have visited two dreams, this being my second one. 

ROBIN: Uh-huh. So, does that mean that we're technically meeting, even though I’m not in Dreamrealm? And I could be In someone else’s dream if I wanted to IF I was there?

Mr. Mineral pats the caped crusader’s shoulder gently with a slightly cooled down hand, giggling under his breath.

TREMOR: Don’t overthink this, Nico. But do tell, anything interesting happen lately? 

Nico, scratching his head spills the beans.

ROBIN: Well, I joined a general in a mission to find a blood bender, met my father figure from childhood, and fought pirates, a wizard and a saurian who ended up being a pretty good friend. I wish I could meet him again sometime… And also, I fell in love with the prettiest girl ever, but getting together is sometimes a bit complicated.

Tremor puts down his cup gently, and he cools down his hand, as to not burn Nico, but give him a warm pat on the shoulder.

TREMOR: Well, as a good man has told me, anything is possible, my friend, so long as you put your heart and your soul to it.

Robin looked at his friend, and realized that under that hard exterior, is a big ol' softie. Nico hugs Tremor, and the mineral man gently hugs the caped crusader back. 

ROBIN: Thanks, Tremor. It was great seeing you again, man.

TREMOR: Likewise, Nico. But do remember, not all dreamrealmers are as kind as I am.

Red Robin stepped back, and looked confused.

ROBIN: Wait, what does that mean–?

As soon as he uttered the words, he felt like he was pulled back with a strong force. When he opened his eyes, he noticed the familiar feeling of his bedsheets. He sat up, and turned his head to look at his clock. 7:30 AM.

ROBIN: Seven-thirty? Funny. It felt shorter than five and a half hours.

He yawns, stretching his arms. As he gets out of bed, he notices a paper on his bedside drawer. It reads:

"You've got a lot more ahead of you, Nico. Good luck!" - T.

ROBIN: This is some Matrix level bull.

He puts on a shirt and heads off to work. He looks back at the note, and he puts it in his drawer with a smile on his face.

The End.

Wait, that's it? That's nowhere near good enough. I want Tremor to have the spotlight he deserves.

Don't worry, I'll give Tremor his own oneshot, pinkie promise.