#i came in clutch but barely bc i thought i was gonna die lol you know my teammates were spectating me thinking the same damn thing

[diobrando]

guy who dies 7 minutes into the match stop telling me what to do

[aclosetfan]

if you are still taking prompts

may i suggest

“he focused the sound of her feet walking towards him. damn, he is so fucked”

@over-under-through1 (Lol you don’t even have to request stuff btw, Id literally just write stuff for you b/c youre so nice)

I thought of a few ways I could go with your prompt, but everything was coming up either hella boring or too predictable. I can’t say I’m too happy with what I wrote, but I know you like the greens so I settled on fleshing out a scene from a never written fic about Bubbles and Boomer’s engagement, and Bubbles forcing their families to meet (against Boomer’s recommendation). The twist is that everyone already knows each other, and unsurprisingly, no one likes their bridal party counterpart. (no powers au)

For the sake of context: Butch and BC are both the kid-siblings in this story. They know each other because they go to the same high school. Butch is one strike away from being sent back to juvie, and BC has the incredible (self-imposed) pressure of living up to her amazingly successful older sisters. Prior to the blue’s engagement, none of the green’s interactions had been particularly positive b/c Butch is considered a bully and BC’s best friend (only friend) Elmer is often bullied. BC’s personality is very closed off and Butch thinks she’s creepy. (lol I could go on forever about the potential outline of this story, but this is enough for a dumb excerpt)  

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Prompt: He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him. Damn, he was so fucked.

Summary: Butch needs a hero, he’s holding out for a hero—wait no, not that one! He wants another hero; he’s holding out for literally any other hero. Buttercup would just like one night of normal jogging.

Pairings: greens (but not romantic more like the very, very beginning of a positive relationship)

Genre: friendship/action

Rating: like 18+ for language and violence; t/w: thinly veiled sexual harassment (just threats, NO action—located towards middle) My warning/rating is just precautionary. Honestly, didn’t write anything that wouldn’t be shown on TV.  

He was slammed against the fence by the scruff of his collar, and it was the first time that night that Butch thought, maybe, things weren't going to work out in his favor. "Come on, guys." He coughed, still recoiling from the punch to his gut, "Three of you, one of me? You may want to call the rest of your friends over and make it a fair fight."  

The smart and playful banter was neither appreciated nor reciprocated, as another jab connected with his stomach. He gagged, and they allowed him to drop to his knees.

 "What?" He coughed, as bile burned the back of his throat, "Skipping the dirty talk? Got somewhere better to be?"

"Do you ever sssshut up?" Snake, one of Ace's fave little goblins, growled.

"My incredible wit is half my charm, and you want me to s-s-s-sssshut up?" Butch argued back, mocking Snake's ever-present lisp. It wasn't the smartest move, but the way Snake's face contorted into something uglier, Butch believed his inability to keep his fucking mouth shut had been worth it. Snake kicked him fully to the ground and pinned him there. Face smooshed in the dirt, he cursed at them, and Snake pulled his hair, peeling his head off the pavement.

"What you sssay, kid?" He hissed.

"I said," Butch spit, "how's it feel to finally be the guy on top?"   

Snake smashed his head down hard onto the pavement, and Butch saw a wave of stars.

"Piece of sssshit!"

"Takes one to know one, right?" He groaned as his vision became less and less spotty.

"I jussst," Snake chuckled, "I jussst can't fucking wait to sssee you get taken out."

"Like murder? Or on a date, because, like, you're not my type."

That earned him a punch to the back.

"Ssshut the fuck up, man!" Snake huffed, shoving his face back into the dirt.

"Fuck thisss kid." Snake said to the other two idiots, "Billy, hold him down. I'm gonna get Ace. Tell him we found him."  

Butch tried to break away, as soon as Snake had let him go, but Big Billy, the biggest, dumbest, motherfucker that Ace probably kept around for his size and his size alone, stomped down on his back, replacing Snake, and effectively keeping Butch in his place on the concert.

"Yeah! That's right, pillow princess! Run home to daddy!" Butch barked after Snake's fleeing form, before a foot connected with his head. This time his abuser wasn't Snake or even Billy. No, this painful encounter was best accredited to Grubber. Grubber was another one of Ace's favorite minions. He was a short ugly man who, Butch swore, was suffering from some thyroid disease that made his ugly eyes bulge.

Butch couldn't tell if Grubber was dumb or smart. Butch couldn't even tell if Grubber was human. He looked more like the reanimated corpse of a dog-troll with the way he hunched and let his tongue lull out of his mouth. Regardless, the guy haunted his nightmares.

Butch let his head drop back to the ground in a daze and cried out when Billy applied more and more of his weight onto his back with a giggle. Butch was sure he'd end up snapping in half.

Mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle. He had never been much of a believer in anything before. He figured when he died, he'd just die. Really nothing more to it. What he had not figured on, in all of his existential wonderings, was his death taking place in the middle of an abandoned McFatties parking lot, and frankly, he found the whole ordeal a little unfair. An abandoned McFatties parking lot was possibly one of the worst places he could think of to die in, and that was coming from him, a kid who had been forced to visit the state of Ohio once. So, mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle.

"Hey!" A voice cried out, and because he was 99.9% sure he knew that voice, Butch filled with even more dread, taking back his pleas to the universe that had only happened mere seconds ago. He actually didn't need a miracle. He needed the sweet release of death.

Please. Please. The Death. Please! Not this! I don't want this! He mentally chanted, Death, death, death!

"Duuuh, hello?" Billy asked the parking lot, and Butch lifted his head a bit to get a look. When no one presented themselves, Grubber and Billy shared a look before shrugging, and they continued to bounce on his back until a brick sailed through the air and hit Grubber on his head. The shock of it caused Grubber to bite down on his tongue, and he cried out in pain.

"Grubber?" Billy asked, his voice thick with worry.

"Get off that guy!" The “mystery” voice rang out, and another brick flew through the air and hit Billy on the shoulder.

Big Billy stumbled off of him and looked around, "Who threw that!"

"Go!" The voice was closer, and Butch could hear the sound of running, "I'll call the police!"

The threat was enough for Grubber, who was still clutching his mouth. He grabbed Big Billy by the shirt, and they took off.

"We're telling!" Billy cried out like a five-year-old as another brick made contact with his back, "We're gonna tell on you!"

"Yeah! Keep running!" The "stranger’s" running came to a halt a little away from him, and yep, he 100% knew that voice. He groaned, his eyes screwing shut with pain, as he laid out on the pavement. He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him and groaned again. Damn, he was so fucked.

"Shit are you ok—wait, Butch?" Buttercup asked, barely masking her surprise.

"Don't tell my brothers." He cracked an eye open when he felt her standing over him.  

"I could care less." She scoffed at his weak begging, "Are you dying?"

He flexed and wiggled, but besides some major bruising, he seemed to be functioning well enough.

"Like," he grimaced, "not physically."

There was a shout, and Buttercup bristled above him. "Good enough, now get up," She huffed, yanking him up and his knees locked in pain.

"I take it back." He bent over, clutching his stomach, "I take it back, I'm dying."

"They were over here, bosssss!" The Snake called from around the corner.

"Well, now's not the time." Buttercup hissed at him and threw one of his arms over her shoulder to help drag him along, "I'm really gonna need you to get your shit together."

"Give me a minute." He hissed back, gritting his teeth, as he tried to get his legs to corporate, "Internal damage doesn't just fix itself. I don't have fucking superpowers."

"Consider getting some," She huffed back as they hobbled along in the shadows, ducking into a random alleyway.

He scoffed, "What are you even doing here?"

"What are you even doing here?" She echoed as they exited the alley and took a random right. She was moving them towards a bus stop. The street lamps shone over the bus stop bench like a spotlight, and the seat sang to him like a siren. His head was still reeling from the blow Grubber had dealt, and sitting down was exactly what he needed to stop the world from spinning.

"Touché." He said after a moment. Her business was her business. His was his. He was fine keeping it that way.

They made it to the bench, and Buttercup set him down. He slumped, holding his head in his hands as she paced around, peering into the shadows that the bus stop lights couldn't reach.

"Buses aren't coming anymore." He mumbled, and she looked back over at him with a frown, "Obviously, I know that."

"Then can you stop pacing.” He demanded, “You're giving me a headache."

"I'm giving you a headache?" She scoffed, "Listen, get up. We need to get somewhere with more people."

She was right; he knew that. The street they were on was desolate. They were still too far from both the City's hustle and bustle and the neighborhood cop patrols in the outlining suburbs. This was an awesome no-man land for shitheads like Ace and Co. to hangout.

At the same time, though, it hurt to move.

"Are you suggesting we run away?" He snorted, putting on a brave face, "Not my style, cupcake."

"Don't call me that." She shot back without missing a beat, "And I'd say this is more of a tactical retreat. I can't spend the rest of the night saving your ass. There are better things to do to waste my time with."

He stood up with the full intention to say something witty and badass back, but he moved too quickly and swayed. Little black dots filled his vision, and he plopped right back down onto the bench with a grimace.

"Five more seconds," He ended up spitting out as he gripped his head in his hands.  

"Okay, for real, are you going to be okay?" Buttercup asked, kneeling in front of him, "Your head's bleeding."

He brought a hand to his forehead and tried to swallow the wince as his fingers brushed the wound. He frowned and examined the blood on his hands, "Well, that explains a few things."

She frowned back at him, "You could have a concussion. We need to get help."

"Probably not." He waved away her concern, cracking a smile, as he thought back to a particular conversation they had had in the school cafeteria not too long ago, "I've been told I've got a thick head."  

She opened her mouth to retort, but somewhere in the shadows, there was a scuffle, like the sound of a can being kicked, that made her snap her mouth shut. She stood, whipping her head in every which direction looking for something terrible to appear.

"You're gonna have to walk faster." She looked back at him, "You're too heavy to carry."

"Excuse me, ma'am, it's not very polite to comment on a person's weight."

Buttercup glared down at him, "Do you really think right now is the best time to be a smart-ass?"

"Yes, in fact, I do. It's how I cope, thanks."

"You cope with humor?" Buttercup blinked with a dry stare, "Why?"

"Well, Ms. Doom-and-Gloom, I know this may be hard for you of all people to understand, but laughter is the best medicine."

"No," She snorted, rolling her eyes, "I'm aware. I just don't get how it works for you since, you know, you're not funny."  

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but a hand shot out of the shadows and gripped Buttercup by the shoulder. She gasped in surprise, and he shot up a little straighter, ignoring his headache.

"Gotta say, Butcie-pal, I agree with the girl. I neva thought you were too funny either." Ace leered, "Who's ya pretty little friend, anyway, hmm? I don't think we've ever been introduced."

"Oh," Buttercup grimaced, shaking her head as she flicked Ace's hand from her shoulder, "no. No. Touching me won't be necessary."

"Fancy seeing you here, Ace." He gritted out through a forced smile, "A little birdy told me you got out of the joint early."

"Good behavior." Ace's face split into an equally condescending smile, "Did ya miss me, kid?"

"I've been countin' the seconds, buddy."

"Wait, Ace?" Buttercup's eyes went wide with recognition, "The Ace? From the Gang Green Gang?"

"The very same." Ace winked down at Buttercup, his sunglasses slid down his face as he checked her out, "I see my reputation proceeds me."  

Buttercup ignored Ace, and whipped back around to glare at him, "Seriously, Butch? You were fighting with the Gang Green Gang?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I not get around to telling you that, Buttercup? I've been a bit preoccupied."

"Buttercup?" This time Ace froze with recognition, and jabbed a slim, long finger in Buttercup's face, "Now, hold on. I know you."

Buttercup's lips pursed as she hit his hand away, "No, no, you don't."

"Yes, yes, I do." Ace continued to wag his finger in her personal space, "You're that prissy prosecutor's sister, ain'tcha, the one who had the pleasure of locking me up for three years?"

Buttercup's eyes darted over to Butch before going back to Ace, "Can't say exactly. The City has a lot of prosecutors."

Ace's face broke back out into a smile, "Yeah, yeah. I remembers seeing you in the paper, right next to ya sista."  

Buttercup frowned, "Not ringing any bells."

"Aw, come on, don't play dumb with me. We're all friends here. Your sister, she's the one with the red hair, wears a ribbon, funky eyes. What was her name again? Tulip? Rose?" He snapped his fingers in though a few times, "Something floral."

"Blosssssom?" Snake suggested from behind.

"Ah!" Ace's smile grew, "Blossom! Yes! Thank you, Snake!" He grabbed Buttercup by the shirt and dragged her close. Practically nose to nose with her, he smirked, "Ringing any bells now?"

"Just a few." She glowered, no longer feigning cluelessness.

Ace threw his head back with a laugh, "This is the night that just keeps giving, boys! We've caught this shitbag." He jabbed a finger back at him on the bench, "And now we've got Blossom's pretty little sister to play with." He pulled her closer by the sleeve of her shirt, smashing her against his chest, "The only thing that would make this better is a beer! You drink, sweetheart?"

Butch scoffed because even though Buttercup was obviously a secret witch necromancer in her spare time, he wasn't a fucking degenerate who enjoyed watching men scaring girls, "Your issue's with me Ace, leave her out of this."

Ace threw Buttercup away, pivoted on his heels, and stalked back over, "Oh, oh, don't worry 'bout nothing Butch. I haven't forgotten about you. Sees after me and the boys get done having a little fun with your girlfriend, I'll be taking care of you."

Butch bristled in sync with Buttercup, "Oh—"

"—no—"

"—Wait!"

"Time out!" Buttercup cried, forming a 'T' with her hands, "I'm—"'

"—She's—"

"—not his—"

"—girlfriend!" They denied simultaneously.

Ace blinked, "I'm threatening both your dignities and your lives, and that's what you're choosing to focus on?"

"Yes!"

"Alright." Ace conceded, shrugging. "Say, fellas, get Butch's. . .acquaintance?" Ace asked, looking at him for confirmation.

"Eh, sure—" He conceded with a shrug, as Buttercup huffed from behind Ace, crossing her arms.

"—I wouldn't even say that."

"Yeah, okay then," Ace corrected himself, ignoring Buttercup, "Fellas, get his acquaintance nice and ready for me while I have a few words with the kid. Don't rough her up too much, though. You know how I like to work with a clean canvas."

"Ssssure thing bossss,"

"Oh, hell, no." He heard Buttercup growl, but his view of her was cut off by Ace, who pulled him up by the scruff of his collar. The adrenaline was pumping once more through his veins, so this time, standing at least didn't hurt.

"Seriously, dude, I don't think you wanna fuck with me like this." He threatened, but even he knew how empty it sounded.

"Seriously, dude," Ace mocked with a smile, "I don't think I give a fuck. Gotta admire your balls, though, kid. Takes a lot of guts to talk to me like that."

"What's your fucking deal anyway? I did what you asked for, I—"

Ace, a cheap bastard who fought dirty, kneed him hard in the groin. Butch let out a strangled gasp, and Ace laughed, letting him drop to the ground.

"It's that fucking mouth of yours." Ace answered, squatting down to get in his face. His breath smelt like cigarettes, weed, and rat piss, "Anyone ever told you it ain't becoming cussing in front of your elders all the time?" Ace reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack. Taking a cigarette, Ace offered it up, "Want one?"

"I don't smoke." He replied curtly. It was a semi-lie. He smoked. He just wasn't an avid cigarette smoker. Considering his family, though, he did, in fact, fancy himself a professional second-hand smoker. Brick chained-smoked. Boomer was always in a perceptual state of "I'm quitting tomorrow." Mojo could typically be found puffing on some pipe or cigar. And HIM was more of a social smoker, but a smoker nonetheless, since he liked using the cigarette sticks that made him look like Audrey Hepburn too much not to smoke.  

If he died, Butch had always figured, it'd be lung cancer that took him out.

"That's smart." Ace nodded, chuckling, "It's shit for ya anyway, but what vice isn't, right?"

Butch watched Ace wearily as he searched around for his lighter. The pain in his groin had subsided into a dull ache, but he stayed on the ground. With Ace, he had to play it smart. Five against one weren't numbers in his favor, and there was Buttercup to consider, unfortunately. The little priss was probably scared shitless.

Ace flicked his lighter on a few times before it caught light and puffed his cigarette for a moment. Finally, he looked back down at Butch and exhaled a cloud of smoke in his face. It didn't bug Butch, but Ace seemed to think it was pretty funny.

"Now, kid, these manner problems you seem to be still having, I think, you know, that someones gotta teach you a thing or two. Seems like your shitbag brothers ain't doing too good a job, huh?"

"Don't talk to me about my brothers."

"Yeah?" Ace smiled, the cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, "And whatcha gonna do, huh, do I gotta remind you about the position youse in?" Ace stood up and kicked his foot hard into Butch's gut. Again, he lost the air in his lungs.

"Fuck you." He coughed, and Ace shook his head.

"See again with the cussing." Ace sighed, "Figured since your brothers are too good for us now, that they'd do a little better by you, but I guess somethings neva change. Once a rat, always a rat, right?"

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but the commotion behind Ace caught his attention. Ace didn't seem to notice as he continued to lecture Butch on manners, respect, and a bunch of other things gang-bangers seemed to believe they automatically deserved. Through the gaps of Ace's legs, he watched as Grubber hit the ground hard.

His eyes widened as Buttercup swooped in on the fallen man, stomping down onto his back to keep him still. The taser in her left hand sparked to life as she spun around and lodged the offending weapon into Snake's neck. Snake cried out and made a swipe for her arm, but she ducked down, invading his hold. Squatting on the ground, Buttercup jabbed the taser into Snake's crotch, and the noise he made was finally enough to get Ace's attention.

"Wha—" Ace started, his sunglasses sliding down his nose in shock. Butch probably didn't look any better.

Buttercup ignored Snake's pleas for mercy and kicked his feet out from under him. He collapsed to the ground, still holding himself in his hands, and Buttercup smirked. Using her hands to launch herself into the air, she flipped away from Big Billy, who had been clambering up behind her, without a second glance. Billy’s nose was already bleeding, and based on the feral way Buttercup was taking the gang out, Butch would have placed money that a good headbutt had caused it.

Billy was too slow for Buttercup. Butch didn't have a clue where Arturo was, but if she kept bolting, he was pretty sure she had a clean and clear shot out of danger's way. To his surprise, though, Buttercup didn't run away. After landing her flip, she slid to a halt and turned back towards Billy. Squatting down low, like a sprinter, she took off back towards him at top speeds. Butch knew Buttercup was fast since she was always running everywhere like a madwoman, but he didn't think she could go that fast. She was on a high-speed collision course with Billy, a guy four times bigger than her, and it was the first time in his life that Butch had ever seen her smile like that.

Billy was ready for her, though. His arms were opened up wide as he got ready to grab her. Butch almost called out to her in warning, but instead, he watched in astonishment as she collided with Billy at a nearly perpendicular angle. She jumped slightly up before impact and threw her weight down onto Big Billy, using her shoulder to break his block and knock him off balance. The force of her momentum caused the big guy to stumble off to the side. He cried out in surprise as he tried to steady himself, but Buttercup didn't give him a chance. Like Snake, she dropped to the ground so that she could kick his unsteady feet from out underneath him. And like on Snake, it was quite effective.

Billy hit the ground with a loud crash and Buttercup stood over him, clapping the dust off her hands as she shot Ace a look.

Butch shared a bewildered look with Ace for a moment, before they both turned back to the fight.

"Billy!" Ace cried out, "Get up, you lug!"  

Billy didn't get up, but he did start crying, and Butch laughed, "Ah, come on Ace, the bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?"

Ace glowered at him and called out to both Snake and Grubber, who both, in turn, moaned from their spots on the ground.

"Arturo!" Ace shouted, "Where the fuck are you?"

"Here, boss!" Arturo cried, sprinting out of the shadows and towards Buttercup with a battle cry. He lunged for her, but Buttercup seemed unfazed as she reached into her hoodie and pulled out a can. She sprayed whatever it was into Arturo's face, and he dropped mid-lunge to the ground with a horrible cry. She sprayed his face two extra times for good measure and then pocketed the can of mace like it was as unimportant as Chapstick.

She whipped her head back around towards them and again shot Ace a death glare.

"Holy shit." Butch blinked and then let out another short laugh, looking back up at Ace, "Like damn, dude, you're so fucked."  

Ace balked, taking a few steps back. He began to root around in his pockets before pulling out a switchblade and flicking it open, "Don't take another step!"

Buttercup brushed some dirt off her jacket as she continued to advance, "What, Ace? Is the canvas not clean enough for you?"

Without his lackey's, Ace trembled with fear, "I said, not another move."

"Cute knife," Buttercup shrugged, nonplussed, as she reached back into her pocket, "Wanna see mine?"

Ace looked between the two of them, as Butch began to find his footing once more, then at his fallen minions. He dropped his hands and backed further away.

"This ain't over!" He sneered and took off running.

Buttercup pulled her hand out of her pocket, sans knife, and dropped to her knees to inspect him.

"Do you just piss everyone off for fun?" She asked, helping him up.

"Something like that," he shrugged.

Behind them, Billy began to groan as he attempted to pick himself off the ground. Buttercup's eyes went wide.

"Let's go." She hissed and pushed him into a run. She pulled him along for a moment as she ran before letting him go and taking off on her own. He tried his best to keep up, but the beating he had been put through quickly caught up with him. He slowed to a stop and watched her disappear into the distance. Taking a few deep, heavy breaths, Butch bent over and put his hands on his knees.

In. Out. Wince. In. Out. Wince.

He wanted to call out to Buttercup, but she was long gone, and, for once, he couldn't find his voice. 

What a fucking night, though, he ended up thinking to himself. 

There was nothing else that the world could throw at him that would surprise him at this point.

But right on cue, the world took him up on that because immediately after he spoke the challenge into existence, red and blue lights flashed behind him. A cop car chirped, its siren turning on and off once to get his attention. Butch slumped further down with a sigh, because of fucking course. He should have known better.

Jumped and thrown back into juvie all in one night—it was a new personal record! He couldn't wait to hear the opinions his family would have. With another heavy sigh, he threw his hands into the air and turned around to face the officer since he wasn't too particularly keen on adding "racially profiled and shot in the back" to his long list of shitty sob stories.

"Well, well." The officer stepped out of his car, but Butch couldn't see which one since the officer had neglected to turn off the headlights shining right in his face, "What do we have here?"

He kept quiet because he knew his fucking rights. The cop stalked up to him and blinded him with a flashlight. He didn't quite understand why that had been necessary given the patrol car's headlights, but cops were a different breed of stupid in this City.

"Now, if it isn't the most illustrious Butch Jojo. I've heard about you, kid."

Butch grunted back.

"Hmm, not much of a talker?" The cop asked conversationally, and Butch twitched with annoyance. He didn't get why everyone—especially adults—always wanted to do the small talk bullshit.

"That's fine. I'll get to the point—" Butch already knew he actually wouldn't, "—where are you coming from looking like that?" The cop flashed his flashlight up and down, emphasizing the tears and bloodstains on his clothes. "Are you aware of a robbery that took place on 5th tonight?"

Butch seized up, knowing exactly what the cop was implying. "That's like forty minutes from here on foot!" He protested.

"I wasn't asking for directions, son."  

"I don't know anything about a robbery on 5th." Butch spat back, and the cop's mouth curled into a sneer.

"Then, care to explain what you were running from?"

Taking a deep breath, Butch glared at the officer, "I don't have to say anything."

The cop chuckled, "Well, maybe you'll change your mind at the station."

"What!" Butch yelled, "I—"

"—Calm down, kid, I'm not playing games!"

"Wait, officer, wait! He's with me." Buttercup ran forward, reappearing from the shadows and linking their arms together. Slightly, she pulled him away from the officer and his blinding lights, "I was showing him the loop I run, and he tripped. I—I was doubling back to bring him a—uh, a bandaid?" She (poorly) lied.

"Buttercup Utonium?" The cop blinked, and she offered a strained smile.

"Hey, Officer Smith."

The officer's face contorted, and he jabbed the end of his flashlight toward Butch's face, "He's with you?"

"Uh, yeah." Buttercup shrugged, stepping slightly in front of him like a barrier, "His brother is engaged to my sister."

The officer lowered the flashlight and blinked in surprise, "Blossom's engaged? I just saw her the other day."

"Not Blossom." Buttercup shook her head, "Bubbles."

"Bubbles! Engaged?" The officer exclaimed, blowing air from his lips, "Time flies! I remember you being this tall—" He indicated a little past his knee, "—when your sister starting working for the Prosecutor."

Buttercup nodded her head, curtly, "Yep."

The officer smiled at her and reholstered his flashlight, "Well, you tell Ms. Bubbles I said congrats, ya hear me?"

"Alright, no problem." Buttercup nodded again, nudging into him, so he'd start backing away. The officer shot him a quick look before turning back to Buttercup. "And you keep this one in line, ya hear me." He told her as he wagged a finger in his direction. "It's about time you found some decent friends to hang out with." Officer Smith lectured, staring him down, before he addressed both of them, "Now, it's past curfew, you two need to head home."

Butch kept his mouth screwed shut, but Buttercup seemed to read his body language loud and clear because she threw him a nasty look before turning back to the officer.

"Sure, sorry, Officer Smith, we lost track of time." She apologized to the officer as she elbowed him into walking away, "I'll tell my sisters you said hi."  

"Goodbye, Buttercup." The officer waved as he made his way back to his patrol car. "Butch." The officer nodded at him, giving him the once over again.

 He rolled his eyes, turning away. "Fucking cops." He grunted, but when he looked over to his right, Buttercup was gone. "Hey, where—" He spun around looking for her, only to find that she was practically halfway down the block, "—Hey!"  

Ignoring how sore he was, he jogged after her. She didn't bother to look at him as he knocked into her.

"Okay, three things—" He started, as he kept in step with her, and Buttercup heaved a heavy sigh. "One, how do you three know everyone in this fucking city?"

She shrugged, "Just do."

"Two, why do you just have a taser and mace on hand?"

"Because I'm a teenage girl, and I run at night."

"Yeah, soooo…"

"Sooo," Buttercup emphasized slowly with a dry look, "sex trafficking, rape. Teenage girls always seem to be a pretty hot commodity. Recent events should have probably tipped you off to that."  

Butch stopped dead in his tracks for a moment and blinked, dumbfounded, "Oh right. Cause you're a chick. I, like, forgot about that."

"Yep." She agreed over her shoulder since she hadn't stopped to wait for him to process the obvious.

He jogged to catch up with her with a nod, "Guess that's smart then."

"Guess so." She muttered back and took a sharp left down a pathway he hadn't even known existed.

"And three," He slowed them down, rubbing the back of his neck, "uh, thanks, I guess, for back there."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Buttercup looked past him towards where the cop car had been and then back at him with a shrug, "Don't mention it. Like, seriously, don't."

He nodded, and she turned away, going back to fast walking speed. He stumbled after her.

"So, where we going?"

"I'm going home. I don't know where you're going."

"Going home?" He repeated.

"Yep."

"But why—how! You can't just go home! Not after all that shit back there!" He speculated out loud, "Aren't you, like, pumped up?"

She sighed, "Nope. Are you going to keep following me?"

"Buttercup." He huffed, running in front of her to block her way, "dude, that shit back there was fucking badass, and I don't say that kind of shit lightly. I don't know whatever fucking voodoo god you're praying to every night, but it's working. You gotta—" he scrambled for anything his mind could come up with, "—you gotta, like, at least get something to eat with me for like, like, closure."

Buttercup stared up at him, her eyebrows pulling together, "Did…did you just ask me to hang-out?" She paused before clarifying, "With you?"  

"Uhhh…" He frowned, his own eyebrows pulling together as he mulled over his previous statement, "huh?" He shrugged, "I guess I did."

Her frown deepened, and she pushed past him, "You should probably go to the hospital. Thick head or not, it was obviously hit a lot harder than you've let on."

He snorted and turned around to catch up with her, "I think I'm serious, though."

She looked him over again, "Seriously, you're starting to freak me out. Should I call 911?"

They made it out of the alley and emerged near a little corner before Townsville blended into the surrounding Pokey Oak County. There, like a beacon in the night, was Pops, a burger joint that he liked.

"Ha!" He proclaimed, pointing towards the 24/7 diner, "Come on!" He grabbed her by the elbow and began to drag her with him.

"Hey!" She protested, digging her heels into the ground as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, "Cut it out!"

"Listen. We're getting a burger, whether you like it or not. Brick's treat."

She stopped her struggling and a raised eyebrow, "Your brother's paying?"

He rolled his eyes with a smirk before he pulled his older brother's debit card that he had stolen earlier that night from his back pocket and waved it in the air, "Duh."

She looked back over her shoulder towards the direction of her home, then over again towards him and the burger joint, "Welllll, if he's paying," She hummed, shrugging, "sure, why the hell not."

He laughed and dropped her elbow, "Good choice, Butterfingers, let's go."

 ---------------------

 I’m sorry if you hate it—I know the pacing’s a bit off and my dialogue punctuation needs work, but it’s been a crazy few days lmao and I just wanted to get this out ☹ if it’s absolute shit let me know and I’ll try writing you something else! Also, the body slam BC used on Big Billy is a move Jammers use in roller derby to get past blockers because, hint, in this world BC is “secretly” in roller derby. ((“Secretly” because her fam and Elmer knows, but no one else.)) I just suck at action scenes so it doesn’t come across well

[grapesodatozier]

5 Times Nancy Wheeler Saw Her Little Brother Cry and 1 Time She Saw Him Smile

here’s that st fic i mentioned a few days ago! i wrote this when 5+1s were still a thing lmao.

this is, for the most part, canon compliant. ship wise, there’s lots of mentions of mileven, but this is mostly just nancy caring about/looking after mike and being a good older sister (duffers take note) bc i love them both and wanna see more of their relationship lol. this is my first (and tbh v possibly only) st fic. i’d post it to my st blog ( @curlywheelers hmu lol) but my irl friends follow that blog so i’m posting it here instead lmao

words: 2,190

warnings: mentions of canon character deaths, generally v angsty lol

read on ao3 or below (:

Nancy Wheeler has seen her little brother cry plenty of times. He cried nearly every Thursday afternoon and Saturday morning the one spring their mom had signed him up for baseball, and she always rolled her eyes at him. He cried when he went down a hill too fast and fell off his bike when he was nine, and she put Band-Aids on his cuts. He cried when their parents would argue, and she hugged him until long after the shouting stopped so he couldn’t see her own tears. Still, her experience with Mike’s pain didn’t make it any easier for her as his older sister to witness.

* * *

Nancy sat in the living room with her parents, the three of them deafeningly silent; what was there to say? They had just received the phone call that Will Byers’ body had been found in the quarry, and they had no idea where Mike was, or whether he had heard or not. The only sounds that cut through the heavy air were Karen Wheeler’s uneven breaths as she tried to stifle her sobs of concern, wringing her hands. Nancy bit her lip to keep herself from crying too.

After what felt like hours, they finally heard the front door open. Mrs. Wheeler jumped up and met her son in the entryway of the house. Nancy watched as Mike crumpled into his mother’s embrace, sobs wracking through his body. Her chest ached and the tears started flowing; she wished she could do something to help, but what was there to say? Kids aren’t supposed to die. Kids aren’t supposed to watch their friends die. Nancy trembled as she watched her brother cling to their mother.

* * *

Nancy didn’t know what to say, but she knew she had to say something. Or maybe just listen, or even just be there. She had to do something for him; he couldn’t even tell their parents. She knocked on his bedroom door, but it opened slightly to reveal that he wasn’t in there. She sighed, knowing where he’d be. She did her best to avoid her parents as she made her way to the basement; she only ever went down there to do laundry and look for old clothes, and she felt almost like she was intruding on a space not meant for her as she swung the door open and started down the staircase. The sight before her stopped her in her tracks about halfway down.

Mike’s watery brown eyes stared up at her from a fort she had never seen before, making him look like a deer in headlights. He dropped the walkie-talkie he had clutched in his hands and began wiping his eyes as he sniffled. Nancy hurried down the stairs, sitting beside him. Nothing was said between them as she pulled him into her side, resting her cheek on the top of his head. The words she’d heard him say in Will’s hospital room echoed in her mind; She saved us. But she’s gone now. “Do you wanna talk about it?” she asked quietly. He shook his head, and she left it at that. She felt his body begin to shake as his tears came again, and as she rubbed his arm she willed herself to keep her own at bay.

The two siblings may not have been the closest in the world, but Nancy was good at reading people, and Mike was an open book anyway, so she could tell that Eleven had meant a lot to him. Thinking about it, El had probably been Mike’s first serious crush. Nancy’s chest ached; she was feeling loss too, and she couldn’t bear the thought that her little brother was feeling anything remotely similar to her own pain. He was only twelve – no twelve-year-old deserved what happened to him; he had been through far more grief than any twelve-year-old can be expected to handle. He was a good kid, and so was Eleven; they had both just been trying to help, and now Mike was heartbroken, and Eleven-

Nancy pulled him closer. He cried a little harder.

* * *

Jonathan jumped out of the car as soon as it was parked in his driveway, barely stopping to take the keys out of the ignition. Nancy followed, rushing up the porch and holding the door open for him as he carried Will’s unconscious body out of the car and into the house. Hopper’s truck was right behind them, and Nancy watched as he helped Joyce out of the car and into the house as well. She was about to follow them in when she realized Mike hadn’t gotten out of the car. Dustin, Max, and Lucas rushed into the house, Steve behind them. He paused in the doorway when he realized she wasn’t following.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, “you coming in?” She shook her head without looking at him.

“I need to check on Mike,” she whispered, descending the stairs of the porch and heading back to Jonathan’s car. She heard the front door close behind her.

She took a deep breath outside the car before opening the door and sliding into the backseat next to Mike. He didn’t react; he just stared at the seat in front of him, his eyes wide and faraway. “Hey,” she spoke gently. When she still received no response, she took his hand in hers – it was shaking. “You okay?” She knew it was a stupid question, but she had no idea what else to say. Normally she’d just be there for him, but he wasn’t crying or yelling or anything – she needed something, even just for him to squeeze her hand back. It took about a minute of silence, but he finally spoke up.

“I could hear them,” he whispered, his voice breathy and broken. She felt his grip on her hand tighten as his tears started to fall. He turned his head to look at her, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were rolling down his cheeks. “I heard those- those things-” he began saying, his own sobs cutting him off. Nancy’s heart sank into her stomach; no one had mentioned why Bob wasn’t in the car or why Mrs. Byers was sobbing, but it wasn’t too hard to fill in the gaps. Nancy thought she might be sick at the thought of her little brother witnessing that. She wanted to put her arm around him, but he had her hand in a death grip.

“Mike,” she whispered, beginning to cry herself, “I’m so sorry.” And then he was in her arms, rocking back and forth slightly while he sobbed. She rubbed her hand in circles on his back while holding him as tightly as she could, as though he might float away. He could’ve, god, it could’ve been him who’d been eaten alive by those things. And now she was really, truly crying as well. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she sobbed, not wanting to ever let him out of her sight again. “I’m so, so sorry, Mike, I’m never gonna let anything happen to you, okay?” she vowed. He pulled back to look at her and nodded.

“Y-you too,” he said, his entire body still shaking, his face red and puffy. They stared at each other for a moment before Mike started wiping his eyes. “You shou-hould p-probably go check on Jo-onathan,” he said, his words hiccupped with small sobs.

“I’m not leaving you,” she said with an air of finality. He looked at his older sister with an incredible amount of grief and fear, but also with clear gratitude before burying his face back in her shoulder. They stayed like that for what felt like an hour, but was really more like five minutes before collecting themselves and heading inside to join the others.

Just as Mike was about to open the door, Nancy stopped him. He gave her a questioning look, and she did something she hadn’t done in years: she kissed his cheek. “Agh, gross,” he complained, pulling a face. But he still squeezed her hand before going inside, and they both understood.

* * *

After making sure Joyce and Will were comfortable and safe in the backseat, Nancy climbed into the passenger seat beside Jonathan. Her eyes strayed to the Byers’ porch where Steve was standing with Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Mike. Her heart tightened as she thought about the conversation she’d just had with Steve – if you could even call it a conversation. But her heart hurt a whole lot more when she saw Mike watching El leave with tears in his eyes. She could only imagine what he was feeling right now, having just gotten her back and now having to watch her leave again. Nancy knew as well as everyone else that there was no certainty that any of the six who were leaving were coming back, and El was least likely of all to survive, excepting Will. Nancy watched her brother get smaller and smaller as she drove away, wishing desperately that she could be on that porch telling him everything was going to be okay. But Jonathan needed her, too, even more than Mike, and she knew Steve wouldn’t let anything happen to him. Still, it broke her heart to see her little brother in so much pain when there was nothing she could do to help.

* * *

“Mom, have you seen my pink lip gloss?” Nancy called from the stairs.

“I haven’t,” her mother’s reply came from the kitchen. “Have you checked the bathroom?”

“I already did!” Nancy called back in frustration, running back up the stairs before she could hear Karen’s reply. On her way to her room, she noticed Mike’s door was open a crack. She could hear muffled sniffles coming from his room as she walked closer. The door creaked open when she knocked to reveal Mike sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He jerked up at the sound of Nancy’s entrance. She noted the tears on his cheeks and the suit and tie lying next to him on his bed, nice and neat and definitely untouched since their mom had put them there for him. Nancy closed the door and walked further into the room. “God, Mike, I know you can’t dance, but it’s nothing to get so worked up over,” she joked lightly, taking a seat next to him.

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, wiping at his cheeks.

“What’s up?” she asked gently.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled in response. Nancy just sat there, waiting until he was ready to share. He sighed eventually, still avoiding her gaze as he confessed, “I promised her I’d take her.” Nancy’s heart dropped. “I told her all about it, and I promised I’d take her, and now I can’t.” Nancy hated hearing the pain in his voice, but at least this time it was easier, because this time Nancy wasn’t useless to him; this time, Nancy knew something he didn’t, she knew she would be able to help make him feel better. Still, it sucked to see her little brother so upset. But she wasn’t about to ruin the surprise.

“I’m sure she understands,” she said. “It’s safer this way.”

“That’s all anyone ever says,” Mike answered, sadness evident in his voice though he tried to sound annoyed.

“I know,” Nancy replied softly. “But hey, you’ll have a great time with your friends! And maybe I’ll even save you a dance,” she teased.

“Ugh, gross,” Mike complained, pretending to vomit as he shoved her away. She giggled, but left the room anyway.

“Get dressed!” she called before closing the door, “Mom put a lot of thought into that outfit!” He flipped her off, a gesture she returned with a smile before returning to her search.

She gave one last look around her room, finding her lip gloss under her dresser, before taking her makeup case and slipping out of the house before Mike could see her with it.

* * *

Nancy smiled down at Dustin, nodding her head to the music as she swayed. She let her eyes linger for a moment, disappointed to see that Mike was sitting alone, staring off into space forlornly. It was upsetting, but she knew he’d be smiling soon enough. As if on cue, she watched him look toward the door, eyes wide as he jumped out of his seat. Nancy smiled to herself, watching as Mike started walking toward El. Nancy silently congratulated herself on her styling abilities, proud that El’s hair had stayed the way she’d styled it.

“Holy shit.” Dustin’s eyes had followed Nancy’s and the two of them watched as Mike took El’s hand. “Is she allowed to be here?” Dustin whispered.

“Hopper knows she’s here, and he’s outside if anything happens,” Nancy assured him, a smile on her face. Dustin’s face lit up.

“You knew about this?”

“Who do you think did her makeup?”

They glanced back over at Mike and El. They were resting their foreheads together as they swayed to the music, and Nancy’s heart soared; she hadn’t seen her little brother smile like that in such a long time.