#life is so much more fun when u are friends with every native plant and passerine within a 50 mile radius

[cannibaltranssexual]

avoiding the obvious one and saying: walks! and delightful finds that you encounter. always nice to see you sharing a bone fragment, a berry bush, bugs, or flowers that you saw on your walks in the server :))

WAAAH OMG YEAHH 🫶🫶🫶🫶 tyyyyy

forreal tho just being out in nature is so so important to me. and i have to tell everybdoy about it. did you know theres so many guys out there !!!

[kaitsawamura]

would you like to stay forever?

SUMMARY⎮   Sparring with Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro in his private gym at his home doesn't seem like a bad idea if you don't count the fact that you really, really like him.

STATS⎮ minors do not interact, 18+ ⎮  Rating: M (for mature)  ⎮  WC: 5525  ⎮   Pairing: Pro Hero Kirishima Eijiro x Fem!Reader  ⎮   Tags: Aged Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Sparring, Smut, Fluff, Age/Experience Gap (if you really squint)  ⎮  AO3

NOTES⎮  Thanks to @spacelabrathor​ for listening to me scream about this and to @some-kindofgnome​ for fueling my Kiri fever dreams.  Yes, that title is based on a Mulan quote. This whole fic was based on THIS POST and Kirishima seemed like the perfect character for this pwp.  Hope y'all enjoy!  (Also please for the love of God, click on the banner to see in HD if you’re on mobile, it looks so much better lol)

It was Saturday and even though you’re on your way to becoming a Pro Hero, you can think of several things you’d rather be doing with your one day off than going to Kirishima Eijiro’s house to spar.  But here you are pulling into his driveway, going over combat moves in your head as if your life depended on it.  They weren’t really serving their purpose which was to distract yourself.  Kiri had offered up his personal gym, encouraged you to stop by with one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing the back of his neck as if he was nervous.  

A couple of his friends had already taken him up on the offer.  You were the only one he’d offered who hadn’t come over yet.  He had texted you a couple of weeks later saying he was starting to take it personally…  and then immediately texted with a laughing emoji just to clarify he was only giving you a hard time.  It brings a smile to your face now as you remember it.  Yesterday he had also clarified it would just be the two of you if you were self-conscious sparring in front of other people.  You’d have the whole place to yourselves.  Like that should mean something.  Which it did.  It does , you realize with butterflies growing in your stomach.  Kiri doesn’t need to know that though.

The two of you had been toeing around something since you had been hired at Fatgum’s Agency a year ago.  Neither of you had made a move.  Kirishima, the Red Riot, was a big Pro Hero and while you took pride in your quirk, it didn’t hold a coin to some of the others you’d come in contact with.  It had surprised you when Toyomitsu had brought you on.  But he had mumbled something about “liking your spunk” and that he thought a teleportation quirk would be a useful one to add to his agency.  The first day you had shown up, Kiri had immediately caught your eye.  Not for the obvious reasons.  Obvious reasons being the fact that he was climbing the Pro Hero charts or the fact that he had a dynamically interesting quirk or that at twenty-five he was already built like a brickhouse. 

Those were all valid reasons, yes, but what had pulled you in was his smile and his genuine interest in you outside of your quirk.  But he was just like that you had quickly discovered.  He knew everyone’s coffee order and what they liked for lunch.  He knew when to push and when to back off.  He knew when to talk and when to listen , knew when he still had a lesson to learn.  The kids flocked to him.  Even now you’re still entirely convinced that’s actually his quirk, getting people to like him.  It’s not a difficult thing to do though.

Your brain stutters back to the present when a text notification pings from your cell phone as you sit in Kiri’s driveway, picking at non-existent lint on your gym shorts.  The cute ones you’re still convincing yourself were your only clean pair and that’s the only reason you wore them.

KIRI : i saw u pull up, u gonna come in or what 😂

Had he been waiting for you to get there?  You tapped out a quick response, one that hid the little flip in your stomach at the thought: creeper, you were watching for me lmao

Response bubbles immediately flash on your phone screen but you’re angling out of your car and shutting the door before he can reply.

Somehow, this house fits Kiri perfectly.  It isn’t big.  You had seen pictures of other top-ranking Pros’ houses.  Enji Todoroki’s house, for example, was fucking ridiculous.  But even without a massive floor plan, Kiri’s house is nicer than any you’d been in for some time.  Clean, straight lines and lots of windows.  In fact, you can see straight through the floor-to-ceiling windows out to his backyard when you reach the front door.  Is that a pool ?  Kiri had tons of fun showing pictures at the agency; it was a well-deserved investment for his already multiple years of service as a Pro.  The pictures hadn’t done the place justice though.

Kiri comes to the door, throwing it wide open with a huge grin that shows off his sharp teeth.  You ignore the way your mouth goes dry as he drags you in, babbling on like an excited little kid at you actually coming.

“I really thought you were gonna back out!  I mean, that would have been fine, of course.  I just can’t see the point of having the whole place to myself all the time.”  He’s irresistibly cute, walking around showing you the living room and the kitchen and pointing out to the backyard where, yes, there is indeed a pool.  “You can come over any time and use that too if you want!”  You thank him, warmth pooling in your stomach at how incredibly nice he is.

“Uh, we should probably get in the gym.  I have… stuff to do later,” you finish lamely.  You don’t have anything to do later but very quickly you’re realizing how far out of your depth you are here.  The familiar beginnings of the head over heels fall is washing over you in steady waves.  But you’re coworkers and the thought of coming to work every day and having to see his adorable face and not doing anything about it is almost making you nauseous.

“Oh, yeah, it’s just down the hallway,” he rumbles, leading the way and you follow trying and failing miserably to calm the nerves flashing through your veins.  You’re here alone with Kiri , the man you’ve been crushing on since you’d started working with him a year ago.  And now your stupid brain isn’t just thinking about what it would feel like to run your tongue along his teeth or how his hands would feel between your legs.  No, your stupid brain is thinking about what Kiri looks like when he first opens his eyes in the morning.

Your one-track mind is not getting any help, especially when Kiri walks through the doorway of the gym addition and immediately proceeds to pull his shirt up and over his shoulders and tosses it to the side.  Shit.  His back muscles ripple with the movement and when he turns to face you, it’s heart-wrenchingly obvious that he has no idea the effect he’s having on you.  He has to know .  Doesn’t he?  From your end, it seems wildly obvious that someone as good-looking as him should know .  

You glance around, eternally grateful for the fact that the gym is also attractive.  Floor to ceiling windows span two of the walls here as well and there’s a large set of French doors leading out to the yard.  You find yourself actually in awe when you get a better look at the landscaping.  It’s so green .  There’s a small patch of lawn but the rest is just artfully arranged native flora and fauna.  Violets, tulips.  Huge hosta plants.  And cherry trees heavy with their signature sakura blossoms.  

“Kiri, it’s beautiful!”  He comes to stand beside you, looking out the French doors as well.

“You like it?  I guess it is pretty nice, huh?”  You glance up at him, your chest expanding on a lurch looking at his smile.  You’d never noticed before but he has a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

“Yeah, really nice.”  You look out again, letting the silence grow until it feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.  After what seems like an eternity Kiri clears his throat, rocking back on the balls of his feet.  “What are you thinking for today?”  The question leaves your lips and you’re immediately regretting it; your stomach flips again when Kiri looks at you like you’re prey.

“Close combat, hand-to-hand combat.  You did mention a while ago you wanted to strengthen that, right?”  You throw your head back, rolling your eyes, and groan.  The two of you make your way to the center of the mat.

“Yeah, I mean, I’d be scared to take me on too,” Kiri says, large hands on even larger hips.   He isn’t as tall as some of the other heroes at six foot three inches but he’s wide , thick.  You know for a fact you couldn’t wrap your arms around his waist and have your hands meet.  He’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.  The sharpened points of his canines are out and on prominent display.   Famous last words you think as a snarl erupts on your face.

“I’m not scared , Kiri.  I just don’t want to wear you out .  You’re a Pro Hero.  You’re on the job a lot more than I am.  Plus, you’re getting kind of old.  Is that a little gray I see coming in?”  Kiri bares his teeth even more but it’s not lost on you that he quickly reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair.  There isn’t any gray, obviously , but the thought has Red Riot distracted.  Distracted enough that when you plant your feet and your fist connects with his face, your knuckles hit skin and not the reinforced rock of his quirk.

“ Shit.”  Kiri takes a step back, reaching up to cradle his jaw.  His tongue swipes out to lick at the blood on his bottom lip.  His vermillion eyes find yours and if you didn’t work with him on a regular basis, you would have felt fear at this moment.  You know he wouldn’t hurt you but even now, a thrill races through your veins like electricity.  He looks as if he’s going to devour you.  You take your own step back, readying your quirk, reaching out to it as your fists hold their position in front of your body.  A dark chuckle spills from his chest as Kiri calls on his own quirk.

Now it was your turn to be distracted; you had always been fascinated by Kiri’s quirk, the way his body looked when it hardened up.  The ripples of muscle still visible under the toughened skin.  The divots and ridges and how they mapped their way across his shoulders and chest and abdomen.  You knew how it felt to the touch in fake combat.  The Fatgum heroes all took pride in maintaining a healthy routine; sparring was a common workout that was previously done at a local public gym.  You wonder absently what it would feel like to touch him slow and at the moment.  When you could give extra attention with extra time. 

Kiri closes the space between the two of you at the moment your mind strays and you barely are able to teleport out of the way to avoid him crashing into you.  You try to take a swipe at him as you materialize from in front of him to behind but this time he’s ready for you and he’s using his quirk.  Instead of moving out of the way, he plants his feet and allows your punch to hit.  Pain radiates up through your fingers and wrist.  It always irritated you that you had to prepare yourself to strike Kiri when he was using his quirk.  Otherwise, you’d be in for a whole lot of hurt every time you landed a punch.

Teleportation is a pretty handy quirk.  It gives you a pretty good advantage the more you work on your close combat skills.  The trick with Kiri was to keep going at him until he ran out of energy.  You hadn’t gotten to that point yet; your quirk had its limits as well.  You were only two years out of UA, Kiri was out by seven.  His strength was already fairly unmatched; sparring with him was always good practice.  You relish the thought of the day you can win a sparring session without tapping out.  It surges through you like pure energy.  

You teleport to stand in front of him again, shifting your weight into your hips and up through your right hook.  This time your fist connects with Kiri’s side and he lets out a small grunt.  Your fingers don’t hurt so bad this time and by the time Kiri is retaliating, you jump back a few feet.  He hmms, a sound that reverberates from his chest.

“That’s all well and good but how do you expect to do anything if you jump that far away?”  He lunges forward at a running start, leaping at the last second, sending his gloved fist into your stomach.  You were fast, but still not always fast enough.  You double over, the air rushing from your lungs and your pre-workout protein smoothie threatening to exit back the way it went in.  Sweat is already beading on your brow and sliding under your tank top.  You take a few breaths through your nose when an idea pops into your head; you stay bent over.  “Hey, I didn’t hit you that hard.  You good?”  

Kiri comes to stand in front of you, leaving him vulnerable.  He can’t see your smirk until it’s too late.  You wail on him, using some of the basic combos he’s taught you before today.  Satisfaction rolls through you when he actually takes a step back.  But then he puts his arms up in front of him, clenching his abdomen and bending inward to protect his core.  He drops just a fraction and before you realize what’s happening, he’s swiping his leg out to push through yours.  You watch in slow motion as you see his laughing face then the ceiling of the gym as you flip and land on your back.

If you thought you were out of breath before…  “Fuuu-.”  It’s a wheeze that feels like it’s ripping your chest open.  You’re seeing stars.  Kiri stands over you, hands on his hips again.  You stare at his face; the hero has his hair pulled back into a bun.  You snort, rolling your eyes.  Why does he still look so fucking good?  The sweat has caused some of the pieces falling out of his hair tie to curl.  His hair has curl to it?  You’ve never noticed before, considering he always gels it into spikes.  You like the curl.  “Are you--are you gonna help me up, or what?”  It was still painful to talk.

Kiri tilts his head to the side, just slightly, and crosses his arms.  “I’m thinking not.  Last time I let down my guard you got those good combos in.”  You stare in stunned silence, sitting up so you’re supported by your elbows.  Kiri shifts slightly and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s backing up to… get a better view.   

“Is that any way to treat your student,  Red Riot?”  You know you get under his skin when he clicks his tongue against his teeth and holds out a hand with a begrudging eye roll.  He pulls you up with ease, quickly enough that you almost lose your balance, swaying into his space.  You look up, eyes moving back and forth between his.  

He draws in a breath and drags his bottom lip between his teeth.  “First of all,” he says as he places his hands on your upper arms, “I’m not your teacher.  I’m not that much older than you.  Secondly,” he mutters as he tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “our relationship isn’t that formal is it?”  He’s so fucking close.  This is getting dangerous.  Dangerous because Kiri is within kissing distance.  Dangerous because this gentle side of him is making you lose more breath than falling on your ass.  Dangerous because the thought of Kiri taking you on the floor right now is almost too much to bear.  

So you fall back on what you’re here to do.  Fight.  You flash him a wicked smile before rallying your quirk and teleporting a few feet away.  His hand is still raised in mid-air and when his head whips to look in your direction, his crimson eyes are narrowed and his nostrils are flared.  He laughs and rolls his neck, dancing on his toes.

“Okay.  I see.  I’m not gonna go easy on you, you know?”  You snort and put your fists up in front of you again.

“As if you were going easy on me before, Kiri.  Bring it on.”  He smiles, the sharp points of his teeth enough to make your thoughts swerve again before you bring them under control.  “Bring it on,” you whisper more to yourself as you brace for the fight.

Two hours later, you feel the strain in your muscles.  Your quirk is running low on reserves and you know you won’t be able to use it much more.  Kiri looks like he hasn’t wasted a breath but you can see he’s getting tired in the way his feet don’t move as sharply.  And if the length of time he’s using his quirk is any indication to his state of mind, you know the two of you will be calling it a day soon.  But you’re also both stubborn.  And you’re dying to get one more good move in on him.

The cockiness the two of you had at the beginning of the sparring session hasn’t gone away but has burned hot into determination.  No more smiles, only clear-headed concentration.  The two of you are an arm's length from each other, throwing various punches and switching quickly between using your quirks and not.  You’re breathing hard, sweat gathering at your brow as you throw another right hook that Kiri easily blocks.

“Get out of your head.  You can be too predictable sometimes.”  He doesn’t mean for it to come across as rude but the words strike a match to a guttering fire.  You bare your own teeth at Kiri even though they aren’t sharp and probably don’t look nearly as threatening but it helps you feel powerful nonetheless.  You drop without a second thought, lowering to your palms and sweeping your leg out in front of you in a wide arc.  A grin spreads across your face when your calf meets Kiri’s ankle.  He’s too physically dense for this move to work if he had seen it coming.  But he doesn’t.  And his solid 220 pounds of muscle falls hard.  

You allow yourself the satisfaction of the moment for only a split second; Kiri’s recovery time is much shorter than yours so it isn’t long before he’s scrambling forward.  He goes straight for your wrists to subdue you but with a smirk, you realize in his haste he’s put himself in the perfect position for you to possibly gain the upper hand.  You scoot up away from him just enough to drag his arm forward and swing your legs around his neck.  Then you elevate your hips and lock your core.

It’s over from there as you squeeze with every last ounce of strength left in your body.  It doesn’t take long for him to tap out.  You release as soon as you feel his loose hand tap your arm; he collapses over you and you’re too tired to move away or push him off.  Now his breathing is rough and you feel a surge of pride.  You reach up and place your hand on his head where his bun has come undone; he’s so heavy but it doesn’t feel bad.  In fact, the feel of Kirishima resting his head and upper chest on your stomach is feeling nothing short of good .  He’s still between your legs and suddenly the air is crackling with a new kind of energy when you gently comb your fingers through his hair.

He rises up, his hands on either side of you.  His hips rest between your legs; the mingled heat radiating from both of you is almost more than you can take but there is no way you’re going to move anywhere.  He leans forward, so close you can see the flecks of burnt orange in his eyes.  If you moved forward just a little, you could close that space between you.  He leans down more, his mouth right next to the shell of your ear.

“Maybe not always predictable.  You did good today.  Probably some of the best fighting I’ve seen from you so far.  Keep it up.”  He grunts, a shift of his hips allowing the curve of his cock to brush against your clothed sex through his gym shorts.  He stiffens in what you think might be embarrassment.  “Shit, sorry, let me just, uh--”  The stuttering mess he becomes right before your eyes makes something lurch in your chest; you reach for his face without thinking.

“Kiri,” you whisper, rolling your own hips against his.  His cheeks are burning a shade of red almost as vibrant as his hair.  You bring up your other hand, holding his face between them and bringing him down to settle over you once more.  Your lips meet his; he seems to war with himself for just a moment.  A suspended second in time.  But then he gives in, slipping his tongue against yours in a delicious sliding vision of what’s coming.

He reaches between you to slip his hand under your tank top; his hand is big and nearly encompasses your side.  But it’s warm and gentle.  Gentle.  Who would have guessed that Red Riot could be so fucking gentle?  But he is and when his hand moves lower to slide below the hem of your shorts, you give yourself to him with no reservations.  His middle finger passes through the mess of your sex; a hissed breath rattles through his chest as your back arches on a ragged groan.

“ Shit.  You’re so wet .”  He slides his finger back and forth, gathering your slick on the thick digit.  He takes his hand away and you mewl.  “Can I?”  He asks breathlessly as he hooks his hands on the hem of your shorts.  You nod, eyes half-lidded.  He pulls them down along with your underwear and the way he looks at you, at what’s between your legs, you don’t even have the wherewithal to feel self-conscious.  Adoration.  It’s the only word you can think of and it makes you wonder if you’d made a mistake waiting so long.

He’s on his knees when he takes your legs and drapes them on either side of his hips; this time he doesn’t hesitate in slipping his finger into your cunt.  You nearly see stars just from that and if one finger is any indication, you’re in for it.  Slowly, he adds another, his hand pumping into you in a steady rhythm.  You’re grabbing for the ground, grabbing for him as a strangled noise pushes from your throat.  He reaches out with his other hand to splay it across your sternum and it’s the only thing anchoring you as he adds the third finger before scooting down to put his mouth on your clit.

“ Kiri,” you keen, shoving your hips into his touch, frantically scrabbling for his wrist that’s on your chest just to have something to hold on to.  He’s done this before, he’s had to.  He’s too good.  Too fucking good.  Already there’s coiling in your gut as incomprehensible words tumble from your mouth.  “Shit.  Shit.  Kiri I’m--I’m gonna--”  He rumbles approvingly against your clit; the vibrations send you closer and closer to the edge and when it crests, your back arches near pain as you cry out, your voice echoing in the gym.  It’s deep, roaring through all of your limbs but  Kiri keeps going, fingers still pumping, tongue still swirling around your sensitive nub.

Another orgasm breaks over you sharp and quick and the overstimulation has your legs quaking as your arousal gushes over Kiri’s hand and tongue.  But then he’s moving again, and you’re blearily aware that he’s shoving his own shorts and boxers past his hips to free his cock.  You stare as it bounces back to sit near the planes of his stomach; it’s already leaking steadily with precum.  Kiri looks back at you and when your eyes meet, you dart your tongue out between your lips to wet them.  Another time, maybe.  

Kiri leans forward to lift you up and the closer you get you can barely see any red in his eyes; his pupils are blown, his nostrils flared as he lifts you like you weigh nothing .  He could snap you like a twig.  But he won’t.  You know without a doubt this is the safest you’ve ever felt, even as he lowers you slowly over his cock and it does feel like you’re being split .

“ Fuuuck…”  You wrap your legs around him, your mouth dropped open, your hands gripping his shoulders.  You try not to dig your nails in but it’s almost impossible with how you’re being filled.  You knew Kiri was big but this was almost too much.  His forehead drops to yours as he pants.  But he’s not moving, won’t move until you tell him to.  It makes your heart ache and your cunt floods, drunk on the affection thrumming through your veins.  You roll your hips experimentally and the friction is bliss.  “Oh fuck, ohfuck.”  You move again, pushing yourself up and back down, listening to the hitch in his breathing.  “ Kiri, please, ” you whisper.  Those words… they’re enough.

Kirishima grips you by the hips, his fingers splayed and digging into the flesh; it’ll leave bruises and the knowledge cracks through you like electricity.  Let him leave marks.  Let him leave them everywhere.  He’s moving you up and down his cock, grunting, mumbling.  “Tell me, Kiri, tell me.”  His eyes meet yours again and his own mouth drops open.

“Fuck, you’re so good.  S’ tight.  Jesus, I-- ” Kiri moves his hands from your hips to support you as he lays you down on the floor of the gym.  The idea should be questionable but it’s not, it’s fucking not and you can’t concentrate on any other thoughts when Kiri grabs your wrists and pins them gently above your head with one hand while the other comes back to your hip.  He thrusts into you at a brutal pace but… it feels like home and you think in that moment as your cunt begins to seize around his cock that you would give up forever to continue touching him.

“Yes, Kiri, yes.  Right there, right--shit yesyes yes. ”  He pistons up, the veins of his cock rubbing just right and when he releases the grip on your hands, they’re moving to wrap around him on instinct.  He’s planting kisses along your jaw, mouthing up to your lips and back down to graze his teeth over your pulse point.  “Do it, fuckin’ do it, let them know ‘m yours, ” you slur and when he bites down you crash over the edge on a groan that’s really more of a scream.  Everything goes black but you're cradling him to you as his movements become more erratic.  The snapping of his hips is getting sloppier by the second and a steady growl punches from his lungs with each breath.  “Cum, Kirishima, cum inside me.”

He’s never heard those words before and it lights a fire in his veins.  His head is buzzing and then he can’t hear anything as his cock releases and he’s spurting searing hot ropes of cum into your cunt.  He goes until you’ve milked every last drop from him and he’d be lying if he said his world didn't suddenly feel whole.  Finally, his body settles and his chest drops to yours.  Everything slowly bleeds back into focus and somehow, everything seems more colorful than it did moments before.  You’re still clinging to him.

“Kiri.  Kiri, babe, I can’t breathe,” you say and he slowly rises, taking in your blissed-out expression.  Your eyes can barely stay open, your cheeks are flushed.  He backs up to see his handiwork on display, hyper-focused on the trail of the mingling cum dripping from the mess of your sex.  But you’re smiling.  Lazy and tired, completely at ease.  “Wanna take a shower?”  When you nod he doesn’t hesitate in standing to kick his underwear and shorts the rest of the way off his legs and then he’s grabbing you, scooping you into his arms and against his chest.  He pads out of the gym and across the hall to his bathroom where he deposits you on your feet, only after he’s sure you can stand and only long enough to turn the shower head-on.

He puts his hand under the water, waiting for it to get warm.  Steam billows from behind the glass door when he’s turning back to you to remove your tank top and your sports bra.  Thank god you chose the front-closure one today; you didn’t think either one of you wanted to struggle to get one up over your head right now.  When your breasts spill out of the high-impact fabric, you notice with tender amusement that his cock is half-hard again.  His eyes go dark again and he leans in for a kiss.  But it's slow and sweet. 

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," he whispers.  He ignores his arousal, ushering you into the stream of water.  Your care is the only thing that matters to him right now.  The heat slides across your body, and when Kirishima steps up behind you and begins soaping up your shoulders, it feels like heaven .

You take turns washing each other until you’re both blissed out in a different kind of way and the only thing either one of you can think about is sleep.  But the afterglow is fading and doubt is creeping in.  When you step out of the water, you stand awkwardly as Kiri hands you a towel.  “You okay?”  He’s actually concerned and you can’t put your finger on why you’re so fucking grateful for it.

“Yea, just tired.  I should, uh, probably get going.”  Kiri freezes and you think you’ve said something wrong, already crossed a line.  Your brain is like a broken record as the stomach-curdling image of having to see him at the agency flashes across your eyes in vivid detail.  But then he’s stepping into your space and pulling you in for a hug.  A hug.

“Don’t go,” he whispers into the crown of your head and it has you smiling like an idiot against his chest.  His skin smells clean and warm with a hint of spice.  You bury your face further in as you nod against him.  Then he’s leading you to his room, to the king-sized bed.  He peels back the comforter and the white sheets and pulls you in beside him.  Your back is against him and he hooks his foot around your ankles, bringing you even closer.  

He doesn’t say anything more, just lets out a huge sigh as he wraps his arm around you.  The last thing you notice before your eyes flutter shut is how your heartbeats are thumping at the same steady rhythm.  

Late afternoon sunlight slants in Kirishima’s bedroom window, creating interesting patterns across his blanket.  It’s pushed towards the end of the bed, your legs intertwined and tangled in the sheets.  He’s still dozing, his breathing not quite that of someone sleeping but not of a person fully awake.  You reach out to cup his cheek, stroke above his eyebrows, caress his lips with your thumb.  A contented sigh leaves his chest as he grabs your hand and kisses your wrist.  His eyes are open now and he watches you.  You smile at him, snuggling closer, not wanting the moment to end.

“Hey,” he says quietly, suddenly serious.  “I just want you to know, I don’t do this all the time.  I mean, I’ve been with other people before but I don’t…  I don’t really hook up .”  Things start clicking into place as you realize what he’s trying to get across.  He just fucked you stupid in his personal gym and somehow he looks bashful.  And because you love it, you’re not going to help him along.  You just watch, biting your lip to keep from giggling.  “I just.  I guess what I’m trying to say is I like you.  I’ve liked you for a long time.  And normally I would have wined and dined you first but...  Well.  Here we are.  Would you like to stay for dinner?”

That’s the last straw; your laughter comes bubbling out of you and Kiri is leaning back to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.  “Is something funny?”  That just makes you laugh a little harder but the confused look he’s wearing has you leaning in to press your lips against his.

“I’ve liked you from the first day I met you, Kiri.  I’ll one-up your offer and tell you that I might like to stay forever.”  A grin rips across his face and your heart blooms with warmth and affection.  The world seems full of possibilities but none of them matter except for the possibility laying right in front of you.

[magniloquent-raven]

Fic Writer Questions

i was tagged by @cherry-toxic and @gideongrace ty both 💕🥰💕

How many works do you have on AO3?

15

which is a relatively small number but sometimes im still like, holy shit i finished 15 whole fics lmao

What's your total AO3 word count?

68,299 (time to post a 701 word fic and then never post again i guess)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

well this is about to get mildly embarrassing lmfao. ive only got harry potter & stranger things fics on my ao3 and tumblr but if you want a full list, as a teenager i posted a shitty borderlands self-insert fic on quizilla, and hiccup/jack frost fic on ff.net.

and if u count fics that never got finished or published anywhere i dabbled in teen wolf, supernatural, dragon age, star wars, left 4 dead 2, skyrim, good omens, the mcu, buffy, wynonna earp, plus like, general disney/dreamworks crossover fic. and i started writing shameless fics recently, we'll see if i actually finish any. aaaand...i think that's it?

so...15?

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Wait for you, Burn for You

2. Find Our Way

3. Something to Hold

4. Room for One More Troubled Soul

5. Don't Know What I'm Gonna Do (About This Feeling Inside)

all harringrove fics except #4, which is probably only on the list because it's been on ao3 the longest lol

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

oh god, i used to. i did when i was starting out, but then i just. i get self-conscious about what to actually say & leave shit to sit for too long. and suddenly ive got like 100 comments i havent replied to and i want to respond to them so bad but ive left them so long i feel weird about it now and it's a problem 😥

i want to start responding to them again, and every time i get a new one i tell myself im gonna but i never do cuz im fuckin awkward lmao

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

i......don't really do angsty endings. like, most of my fics end with smooches and/or love confessions lmao, i don't like leaving things off sad, even if it starts depressing as hell.

maybe this one? it still ends soft but without resolving the thing billy was angsting about, so.

Do you write crossovers? If so what's the craziest one you've ever written?

hahahhha.............i don't really do them anymore, but i already said i was into the whole animation movie crossover thing, so. yeah, i did lol. it was when i was in high school so of course i did one that was like, every disney character ever and they're going to school together. which really isn't that crazy a concept, but it was a lot of movies to write in so maybe that counts

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

nahh, not rly. i don't get around enough to attract anti attention lol, tho i did get one of those "👎" comments when someone was going around doing that, which lbr, is so low effort it barely counts 😂

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

yea sometimes. i do get the occasional horny idea lmao. mostly "what if touch-starved character + tenderness" or someone having lots of feelings while they're fucking. someone is usually billy lbr. i've also got a couple "what if someone got tied up and treated right" ideas but i don't think i've actually published any of those lmao

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

don't think so?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have not

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yea, kinda! a collab with a friend of mine for fun

What's your all time favourite ship?

i...don't know? i get emotionally invested in characters more than the relationships themselves lol. i don't even know what ship i've been invested in for a long time, most of the shit i shipped as a kid i don't give a fuck about anymore lol.

except fuffy, actually. i've always shipped buffy/faith

and if we wanna go with fandom i've actively stuck with the longest it'd be harringrove. cuz ive been here and writing shit for yall for over a year now when i usually would've cycled thru a couple fixations by now lol

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

that's a mean question lmao how dare you. i honestly don't know, i have a lot of wips and i want to finish all of them. i know i won't but there isn't one specifically that seems less likely than the others so idk

What are your writing strengths?

uhhhhh.....i mean i've been told that my characterization is good? like, ppl being able to picture the actual characters when they're reading n stuff, so that's nice. and i could write introspection forever, u don't even know man, i get in the zone. i love getting in a character's head and picking apart their emotional state

What are your writing weaknesses?

writing dialogue really trips me up because i get picky about word choice lmao. i can be writing uninterrupted for twenty minutes cuz it's all a character's inner monologue but the second they gotta speak out loud im sittin there like ok what words sound natural and how much would they be willing to say etc. etc. suddenly it's an hour later and i've written three lines of dialogue. plus i tend to edit as i go so i'm always stopping and going back and rewriting stuff instead of just finishing the damn story

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

no thoughts head empty

lmao for real tho idk? i mean there's that one trope, when someone says nice stuff in a language the other person doesn't speak because they're pining and not sure if they're allowed to say it outright, that shit's cute. im sure all the google translated dialogue has been annoyin as shit for native speakers lmfao but yeah

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

probably harry potter but i literally have no idea. i started writing fic in my early teens and that time of my life is a big fuckin blur lmao

What's your favourite fic you've written?

ngl i think my fav fic is one of the multi-chapter wips i haven't published lmao

BUT. if i gotta pick something yall have read, this one. just a lil guy. plant dad billy and domesticity. it's cute and i like it. maybe also this fic that i wrote for valentine's day. i wrote basically the whole thing in one day and i was really proud of myself lmao, and i just really like headcanoning backstory for billy & that fic is rly just about him growing up, so

tagging @rvspberryjvm @wingedbears @paperbodiesamongthestars @platypan

if yall wanna! 💕

[hazard-queen]

It is me, again😂

Thank you so much for accepting my requests, I loved them so much! I have to admit, you're a very good writer! ♥️

Is it okay for me to request something again?

As I said in the other requests, if you don't want to, you can delete it, I don't want you to feel obligated(?) to write!

I just want to request the twins, Idia and Ruggie with an s/o that when is nervous they tend to scratch themselves, can't make eye contact and repeatedly they apologize!

Sorry for any bad spelled word, English is not my native language🙈😖

Btw take care, I love you♥️

Hello again ^^

Thank you alot, your words made my day ~♡

Sorry for being late as usual and i really home you would like this chapter too♡

Take care and have a good day ~♡

• He watched you playing basketball from afar and let's say he really got impressed by your performance so he thought it might be a good idea to ask you to join them in Savanaclaw but maybe it wasn't a good idea after all...

• "Hey i didn't know that you're that good at basketball!"

• He came surprisingly from your behind out of nowhere, you gasped as you threw the ball and blushed looking at him

• " i i I'm...."

• But before you finish your words you didn't pay attention that the ball didn't fall in the basket but it hit the border and returned to you hitting you in your head knocking you to the floor!

• "(Y/n)!"

• He of course rushed to your side trying to wake you up but he failed so he called for Jack to carry you to the infirmary where you regained your conscious

• "Sorry that i surprised you that way...i shouldn't have done this" he felt guilty for what happened to you

• "N no, it's really f fine" you pulled covers on your face hiding your blushing face

• "So, are you interested in joining our team in Savanaclaw? I really like your performance...it was amazing" he blushed on talking to you scratching his cheek with his finger

• " y you think?!"

• You felt happy with the praise you got from ruggie, you always watched them training and let's admit it you always wanted to join them one day but you didn't have the courage to go and apply for that

• "What do you say? Wanna join us?"

• He waited for you patiently knowing it would be a bad idea to approach from behind if you while you're busy gardening, you were growing plants and most importantly you were growing mushrooms which was the quickest way to get the tall male's attention

• "Ehem, can i join you?"

• You turned around to see a tall figure standing behind you out of nowhere giving you his well known closed eyes smile, you gasped since you didn't know he was even here....since when he was watching?

• "S sure!"

• You said blushing as you couldn't even make an eye contact with him moving aside to allow him to help you, you kept silent the whole time as there was a huge ice wall between you both which he wanted to melt

• "Do you know i love mushrooms?"

• It was a fun yet cute info from him, you didn't know why he told you that but you only laughed abit

• "If you do then i can give you a plant!"

• Bingo! You finally began opening up to him, "is it ok?oh you don't have to!" A blush appeared on your face as jade gave you a wide smile feeling happy with your gift as he watched you taking it from the ground putting it on a new planting pot handling it to him

• "So can we be friends or something?"

• "Y yes....i guess"

• And just as jade planned, his plan on making friends with you worked with a success as you both became really close friends and planted mushrooms together!

• Unlike jade, he won't walk slow to you not to make you freak out or give you a heart attack floyd will just attack you there

• You were spending most of your time swimming and you seemed to be good at what you were doing, he watched you over there as you were ready to jump and everything until...

• "Shrimpy-chan you're really a good swimmer!"

• Floyd yelled behind you just as you were jumping which made you freak out and fell into the water and of course you swallowed lots of water and now you're choked great job floyd!

• Floyd jumped after you and brought you back to land , the second your eyes met floyd's who was on the top of you your face because riddle's hair colour, " awww are you ok shrimpy-chan? Sorry, i scared you" he gave you a sorry expression.

• " u umm can you please g give me some space, Floyd kun?" You looked away blushing and he did as you said

• "Why do you look that nervous? Have i don't something that bothered you?"

• Actually shouting on your ears the second you were ready to make a perfect jump making you lose both your attention and balance was actually annoying also being so close to someone isn't really comfortable but you decided to choose a gentle answer " ummm never mind it's ok....but why did you came here from the first place by the way?"

• Wrapping yourself tight with the towel and drying yourself to not catch a cold this question suddenly poped up in your head, "well i came here to cheer for you! I also wanted to join you in swimming tho"

• Tho you were a little mad at the male but you couldn't resist how cute he is you couldn't help it but blush and turn your face away from him, " i i don't mind that" just as you said floyd jumped on the water turning into his eel form and i can tell that you and floyd will become close friends very soon!

• You joined gaming club cause why not?gaming was something like a life to you, no game? No life! (Latterly me), you were playing pvp mode unaware whom you were playing against but he wasn't taking it easy!

• You achieved nine win-streaks and you can't lose it now! Winning was a life matter for you, the other side there was the other players who played against you and he was smahing the console as you could hear the loud yet fast ticks he was making but at last...

• "I WON! YEAH!!!"

• "NO WAY I CAN LOSE!"

• Loud steps were close to you, idia was furious to know who BEAT him amd whoever this person was they should run for life! But the walking oven guy started slowing down as he saw you...a girl! sitting on the chair

• "I lost to a girl?!"

• You jumped from your place and cracked an apology not even making an eye contact with him and took your way to the door

• "W wait!"

• You stopped and turned to idia who was also sharing the same blush as you, " w what is it?" You spoke slowly still blushing

• " congratulations on winning and..."

• You waited patiently for him to speak and trust me it seems more like it was something really hard for him, he actually don't speak to his normal mates how about a girl?

• "And?"

• He moved his hand to his back neck then to his hair and he also was avoding your gazes before he shut his eyes closed and spoke in light speed "yourgamingskillsarereallyamazingit'sreallyimparssive"

• Error! It took you some time register what he was saying but once you registered it your face became ten shades of red, both you and idia covered your faces with your hands in embarrassment!

• " y you really think so?" You asked shyly getting a nod from idia who held his arm in silence staring at you," d do you probably wanna join me in another turn probably or try a new game together?" He was doing an effort here to speak those words to you, " s sure!" As you gave him a small smile accepting his offer you both tried almost every single game in the world and trust me idia will do his best to win the game against you!

[xyloophones]

oh, id love to hear your dvd commentary on the moonflower scene in moonstruck!! i absolutely love it every time i reread it 💙💙💙

friend !! heck yeah i can do commentary on that !! (also hi i see u leaving comments again sdlkfaj ur so sweet to me thank u for keeping my fics alive u are the beeesssstttt <3) 

under the cut because it got too long aahhhh 

Send me your favorite scene/chapter from one of my works and I’ll post a DVD commentary on it.

The garden is beautiful. They don’t have much space in the backyard, which they’ve made up for with floating garden beds, the wood painted bright colors as they hover peacefully in the air. It’s like a small bubble in the middle of a city, lush and overflowing with life. Viktor forgets that if he walks twenty feet in any direction, he’ll meet concrete. He feels a wave of calm wash over him. 

This is directly inspired by how golden gate park in san francisco just goes from rows of houses on cement to super lush redwoods and gardens within like 10 feet. All of the scenery in my fics are just love letters to the bay area/ california in general. The california academy of sciences has a living roof with a bunch of california native plants and grasses and it’s super magical

“Feel better?” Yuuri smiles knowingly. “It’s the lavender. Celestino started planting it after I was diagnosed with anxiety. It’s supposed to be calming.”

Viktor smiles bitterly. “More magic, huh?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “Lavender isn’t magical. It’s actually one of the few plants with no magical properties at all.”

I love magical realism/ urban magic aus but my fav things in them are just when something super mundane works better than the magic itself. example: why use quills when pens are so much more convenient??? I will never understand 

“Oh.”

“But it’s also one of the most widely used plants.”

“Is that supposed to be a metaphor? For… me?” Viktor frowns. “But I’m not non-magical. There’s nothing wrong with being non-magical, it’s just… my career–– my fans have expectations.”

It’s really easy to forget that people are like… people when you look up to them so much. I tried to put myself in victors headspace of having so many people that basically idolize and worship you but knowing that if you messed up they would turn on you instantly. I think that’s probably very scary.

“Viktor, the only person who matters in this situation is you.” Yuuri nods his head towards the back of the garden. “Come here, I wanna show you something.”

Yuuri weaves his way through the floating flower boxes and pots, ducking to avoid stray vines. Viktor follows. The plants all seem to lean towards Yuuri when he passes, like they’re reaching for the sun. It’s fitting. 

The sun/moon dynamic in ships is my fav thing in the universe so i really like leaning into the “yuuri is made of sunshine” thing which is the WHOLE reason behind this scene 

“Solnyshko,” Viktor whispers. 

“What was that?” Yuuri looks over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” Viktor says. “A nickname.”

I !! love !!! pet names !!! all of my close friends have at least one or two mushy petnames from me !! i am under the name “sunshine” on my friends phone and it is the cutest fckin thing pls call me cute nicknames !! anyway this is me projecting onto vitya lol 

Yuuri takes him to the back fence bordering their neighbor's. There are a row of sunflowers there, planted into the ground instead of in a flower box. 

“Sunflowers,” Yuuri says. “They’re my favorites.”

sunflowers are my fav flowers so once again i am ✨ projecting ✨ onto yuuri lol 

The sunflowers drip golden light onto the soil below them. Like the rest of the plants, they all seem to turn towards Yuuri. Yuuri reaches out and plucks a petal off of one.

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “I know what sunflowers are.”

“Yes, but––” Yuuri takes his hand and uses it to pull Viktor back towards the small shed in the corner of the garden–– “I’m willing to bet you’ve never seen these.”

Yuuri opens the door to the shed and ushers Viktor inside, shutting the door behind them, plunging the shed into darkness. 

“What––?”

“Just watch.”

Yuuri holds out the sunflower petal, glowing golden in the pitch black. The shed gradually glows lighter and lighter, until Viktor can see well enough to make out the smile on Yuuri’s face. But, the light isn’t just coming from the sunflower petal anymore. Viktor looks around and sees the shed is lined with boxes of tall, silvery plants. They look like sunflowers, but their stalks are pitch black and their flowers have no petals, only a glowing, silvery head of seeds. 

So moonflowers are an actual thing but they’re just white morning glories and anyway i wanted the whole moonflowers/sunflowers thing to run parallel to the whole victor not really “growing” in the light (fame) until he meets yuuri who teaches him to love magic for himself and not for any public expectations/fans. Like i really wanted to make it clear that victor needed to work on himself and his own health and that things (moonflowers) can have value even if they don’t live under the sun (fame)   

“Moonflowers,” Yuuri says, pleased. The sunflower petal in his hand glows brighter when he brings it closer to a nearby moonflower. “They’re sensitive, so they can’t be out in the sun. But, if you put them near sunflowers they glow. It’s the only plant that grows without sunlight. It’s also the only plant that supports sunflowers. Sunflowers can’t grow without moonflowers nearby. ”

I didnt really get into it in this fic but yuuri learned just as much from victor as victor did from him

Yuuri sends him a look. “This is another metaphor, by the way.”

“I think I get it.” Viktor leans forward and gently touches one of the moonflowers. His hand comes away with a silver streak glittering on his finger. 

“I’m going to keep helping you look for your heart, but I think you need to start loving yourself without your magic,” Yuuri smiles at him gently, looking ethereal and achingly gentle in the moonlight. “You’re still Viktor, even without your magic. You’re still Viktor.”

Again ! its not about victor meeting the love of his life, it’s about victor finding himself and learning to love himself and also falling in love along the way !!

“Vitya,” Viktor says, his voice thick with emotion. “Call me Vitya, please.”

“Okay,” Yuuri whispers. “Vitya.”

Viktor looks back at the house, before he gets into the car. The paint is bright yellow.

Fun fact: this scene was like the very first or second scene i wrote for this au (and the whole halloween week thing) and it was actually something i wanted to do as a stand alone but it didn’t end up long enough (HA i know its like…, 8k but STILL) i think i thought about making it its own series but i just got too busy :((

Also while working on this i listened exclusively to a halloween playlist (i love halloween!!!! Spooky season is my fav!!!!) so if you want maximum “xylo’s headspace while working on this” effect listen to i put a spell on you by nina simone on loop

[mikenewtonhateblog]

My oc’s aka too long of a gd post

The “BL” Crew (does not stand for boys love I’m just a moron who made that abbreviation before knowing what it stands for). My main crew and main series, a lot is a big WIP right now as I’m slowly redoing the first book and all the lore. Why? I love torture. Book is fantasy type but I won’t specify what.

Lacie, the protagonist. God tier idiot, bisexual bipolar depressed MESS, insomniac, former theater kid, doesn’t know what she wants out of life but currently it is not This(plot of book). Hot headed, impulsive, crude, rude, Mommy IssuesTM, would rather be taking a nap right now, rules are made to be broken, absolutely fucking FERAL, more bags under her eyes than the airport lost and found. 5’5, 130lbs, Aries, age 18, white as shit like literally the whitest human you have ever seen, strawberry blonde hair in a 2011 Hayley Willaims haircut with long bangs, the darkest brown eyes you’ve ever seen that stare directly into your soul. Lanky, no curves, body of a 12 year old boy but works out so she can and will kick your ass and thats a threat. Not human?

Josh. Soft boy, smart, Lacie’s cousin and only friend for like the first 18 years of her life, autistic anxious mess who’s special interest is anchient egyptian history, is in honors classes, despises math, passes out when his girlfriend looks too cute, just needs a hug. Can eat a whole carton of easy mac if left alone, whole wardobe is the same outfit just different colors/hoodies, sensory issues, seriously can someone give this guy a hug. 5’9, 150lbs, Pisces, age 18, mixed (half whatever flavor of white Lacie’s family is [they don’t even know its just some scandanavian shit and irish], and half mexican on his mom’s side), medium olive skin with freckles and moles, dark chocolate brown hair that’s a bit of a 2009 Beiber cut, warm brown eyes, not beefy, a lil thicc and self concious about it but squishy boys are GOOD. Gets bit by a werewolf so now he is one his mood on it is “thats a lot to unpack but let’s just throw the whole suitcase away”.

Zander. There is not one braincell in this man, himbo KING, pansexual dumbass with undiagnosed ADHD, no impulse control, head empty and full at the same time, PTSD, his fashion sense should be an actual crime, gets in fights to feel something, basic requirements for him to be attracted to you: kick his ass. Drinks his respect women juice, sees a folding table and must immediately launch himself on it, chaotic, cannot drive a car and will not, food aggression and eats enough for 3 people but never gains weight which is ILLEGAL, him and Lacie may be a couple.....but in this house we stan slow burn, he talks in caps and every sentence either ends with a question mark or exclaimation point, likes romcoms. 6’2, 190lbs, Sagittarius, age 19, austrailian roots and has the accent but is from [REDACTED FOR STORY REASONS], white, dorito shaped with long legs, blueish black hair that’s long and messy, dark navy eyes that match his hair, bigass neck scar from [REDACTED]. Not human

Peter. Gay dad friend who is TIRED of having to be in charge of a bunch of teenagers, only one with full functioning braincells, lowkey a genius who loves engineering, mixes magical technology with human technology because he likes to play god, is he ever sober? No one knows, will kill for a bottle of single malt, his fashion sense? Tastefully expensive suits perfectly tailored. Likes building his own weapons that no one else knows how to even use, generally non-threatening but can get scary if needed. 6’4, 140lbs string bean man, Scorpio, age 179 but looks early 30s, I know I said Lacie is the whitest human but he’s even paler like a literal sheet of paper with scandanavian roots/ancestors were vikings or some shit, blonde hair styled like 2013 Brendon Urie lmfao, light crystal blue eyes. He’s a vampire and was born one.

Danielle. Tiny, sweet, queen of girls supporting girls, comments on all her friends instagram posts with 20 emojis, LOVES fashion and has a wardrobe that would make anyone jealous, oozes feminine energy, only child and parents are in love still, gets exactly 8 hours of sleep each night and wakes up looking like a disney princess. Just because she is small and cute doesn’t mean you should underestimate her she WILL fuck your shit up. Quiet when angey which is terrifying. Josh is her bf and she loves him so much but also loves teashing the shit out of him. Legally cannot cuss, polite, used her high heels as a weapon once, speaks like 5 languages because studying them is her hobby, gardens, hugs everyone. 5’0, 110, Taurus, age 18, mixed (half french-american, half Korean-american), glowy skin always, PETITE frame aka the friend everyone can pick up when they hug, long past her waist curly brown hair, bright green eyes. She’s not fully human as she has fae blood in her and this gives her the ability to talk to and control plants. Flower crowns for everyone

Becca. Theater kid who would die to sing in Wicked and has the vocal range to do so, cannot wait to graduate and go to her dream college which she got into and a scholarship, closeted lesbian bc her whole giant family is extremely catholic and she feels like not dealing with it, “no boys allowed in bedroom” rule is her favorite joke, chill, middle child of 5 siblings and just wants some peace and quiet for ONCE. Her fashion sense is “I’m dropping subtle hints I’m gay but only to other gays”, has a black belt and took self defense classes. 5’6, 145lbs, Virgo, age 18, Latina (cuban and mexican mix), darker brown skin with light freckles over her nose, athletic build, eyebrows on POINT, bright caramel eyes, short light brown hair cut in a bob, has a tiny nose stud, always wears a blue friendship bracelet her gf made her. Human

Anika. Calling her a bitch/slut is a compliment, bisexual, a bit of a mean girl but she grows out of it give her time!!! Is always Too Much, the horny friend, favorite color is red so thats almost all of her outfits, loves to show off her body as much as she can because she’s hot and knows it and thrives in her own confidence. Her mom is literally like Regina George’s mom from Mean Girls but married a rich man 20 years older than her, Anika doesn’t know her bio dad but thats fine neither does her mom and her step dad is nice and does his best to be a dad. Becca’s gf, always hanging out at her home so Becca can get some quiet because Anika’s an only child and has a pool. 5’9, 135lbs, Gemini, age 18, white, long layered dark reddish brown hair, teal-blue eyes, swimmers body type (I normally do not mention bust size but she would want the internet to know she was blessed with big bahoogles so there you go), can sprint in heels. Half mermaid (boy was that a surprise considering her mom doesn’t know who her father is LOL)

Rex. Nb uses they/them he/him pronouns but honestly will respond to any, goth lite, only attracted to men and ace, can read minds so knows all your secrets, mischevious little shit, great friends with Zander and enjoys his dumbass thoughts and that he’s basically a human version of Jackass, wears too many rings, goth boots for kicking and fashion babey, always has the freshest memes and will not hesitate to roast in the group chat, hangs with the girls most of the time. Chaos god who loves making art, be gay do crime, skateboard and spraypaint. 5’8”, 165lbs, Leo, age 18, Native American, masculine frame, dark brown skin, blue eyes, firetruck red shoulder length hair that’s usually in a ponytail, knock-off gucci sunglasses just for judging their friends. Has magic in their blood so not entirely human and can cast spells and shit (don’t roast me its a wip and I’m doing my research)

Sam. Boho goddess, aromantic, makeup and nails are always instagram worthy, quiet and stoic type but losens up around close friends, Rex is her best friend, has some trauma and doesn’t want to talk about it, emotionally numbed out a bit and wants to purely vibe. Has seen some of the worst parts of humanity and wishes she hadn’t, finds no point in being bitter or resentful though because that won’t change anything, loves cats and once she moves out shes adopting one or three. Has wine aunt energy. 5’4, 200lbs PLUS SIZE QUEEN, Scorpio, age 18, Filipino (her parents are immigrants fun fact!), really olive skin sometimes has a grey/green tinge to it, dark brown almost black shoulder length hair, gold-hazel eyes. Sam’s the victim of a family curse that requires her to consume human hearts to survive, she can transform into a pretty scary looking being and uses this curse to hunt down pedoph*les, r*pists, murderers, and abusers. The less often she feeds the less human she looks, hence the constant grey/green tinge to her skin. 

Andy. Baby of the group, must be protected at all costs, 100% didn’t sign up to be in a friendgroup of 90% monsters but highkey loves it, trans, bi, anxiety MAXED, just wants to draw comics and cosplay spiderman, has to babysit his two younger sisters a lot because his parents are....not great, and as a result now knows all the lines to Tangled and The Little Mermaid. Big nerd energy, has to draw on everything including homework, gets inspiration for comics from his friends, awkward and socially anxious, drinks way too much tea and will accidentally steal your pens. Fears include: crowds, thunder, tall angry men, tiny spaces. Just trying his best. 5’2, 100lbs BEANPOLE BOY, Leo, age 16, white (irish and scottish roots), freckles absolutely EVERYWHERE, orangey red hair thats in desperate need of a haircut, chocolate brown eyes, braces, chronic nail biter. Human and kinda wishes he wasn’t.

That’s it for now if you read all this bless u thank u here is my whole heart. Please no discourse, literally these are fictional people I’ll never publish the books they go to.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

The Bucket List or “Oh my Dear Lord”

Matt Murdock x Female Reader 

Request: AH I SAW U WERE TAKING REQUESTS FOR MY BOI MATT AND I HAD TO DO ONE! so what about “Well, looks like I can scratch that from my bucket list” - “Who the hell puts getting arrested on a bucket list?!” and like he’s the (female)reader’s defense attorney but they already know each other? idk lol but tysm in advance, i hope this helps your writers block

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for your request, sweetheart! Here’s some Matt Murdock for you, involving some blood and sexual tension 😈  I’m so very sorry it took me forever. I got a bit carried away there, but I hope this piece lives up to your expectations! Also, look at me, using two prompts from the list, bam bam!  The reader’s family name / surname is given in this story ;)

(May contain mistakes, author’s not a native speaker)

Foggy!… Foggy!… Foggy!… Foggy!…

The pain was unbearable, striking hard and deep, and everywhere at once. Bitter blasts cut through his bones as he tried to focus on finding the wound. Not with his hands - those would not obey, completely numb and useless. 

It must have been his shoulder, he realised, closing his eyes. He couldn’t keep them shut for long, though - his head was spinning, so much worse than after a dozen shots of that eel booze of Josie’s. 

He opened his eyes and managed to slightly turn his head to the left. The pungent smell of blood left him wincing and swearing under his breath.

It was his goddamn shoulder alright, a jugged piece of glass sticking from right below his collarbone. The ragged tissue around the wound burned, and as seconds passed, the pain amplified, jarring and brutal. Blood oozed down his chest almost lazily, his Daredevil costume soaking it up.

Foggy!… Foggy!…

Matt spit out a curse, feeling the taste of blood on his lips. Excruciating pain shoot through his chest as he tore his phone out of a thigh pocket, hitting the green answer button with his thumb.  

“Now is really not a good time, Foggy,” he huffed, trying to prop himself higher against the cold metal door, leading back inside the building. The sky and the ground changed places as he tried to inhale deeper… He only hoped his lung wasn’t punctured.

“Matt, you need to get to the station. Like right now.”

The panic in Foggy’s voice made Matt’s insides turn clockwise. A lump rose in his throat, urging him to get rid of whatever he ate for dinner earlier. 

“What…?” he forced himself to speak, but only ended up coughing hoarsely, blood rolling over the edge of his lips and dripping down his chin. 

“They’ve got their hands on Woods,” Foggy whispered, dread choking him. “She’s under arrest”. 

Greeting his teeth, Matt growled as he stood up, using his free hand for balance. Unsteady on his feet, still leaning on the door, he gripped that piece of glass and tore it from his body. It fell on the ground with a muffled cry, shattering in pieces. Matt bit down on his lips, keeping the involuntary scream in, hissing in pain. He pressed his free hand to the wound, blood pumping out through his fingers, painting them stark red.

“I’ll get there as fast as I can”, he rasped. “Don’t let her speak with anybody until then. Not a goddamn soul”. 

“Understood,” Foggy swallowed frantically, as if he were drowning. “Please, hurry!…”

Dropping the call, Matt kicked the door with all the force that was left in him, pain and rage sending his heart and brain in the overdrive. The sound of his boot hitting the metal resonated in his head like a bell’s tolling in an empty church. 

…Goddammit, Y/N! He told you to run!

†††

The smell of barbecue chips and cigarette smoke intensified as soon as he stepped into the precinct. Gripping his cane so hard his fingers hurt, Matt made his way down to the reception desk, his stroll a little too quick and confident for a blind guy. He turned a couple of heads on his way, but it came to show that a hard expression of silent, barely contained fury was the best deterrent to stupid questions. 

As soon as he spotted Murdock, Brett sighed and pushed his way towards him through the crowded corridor. 

“Why, dear Lord, why when something happens, you three are always involved?” Brett grumbled, planting himself in Matt’s way. 

Should this have been another time and setting, Matt would probably choke out a muffled laugh; but all he could think of right now was getting to the interrogation room, and seeing with his own eyes that Y/N was unharmed.

“Where is she?” he cut to the chase unceremoniously, cocking his head to a side. 

Brett raised his eyebrows at his tone, but refrained from commenting it. 

“Don’t bullshit me,” he muttered, his hands diving in the pockets of his uniform. “You and Nelson are here so much, you probably know the entire place like the back of your hand by now”, he stepped aside, clearing the way down the corridor. “I told Hoffman he won’t get a word out of Y/N Woodsley’s mouth as long as her usual pair of lawyers is involved”. 

Matt gritted his teeth, but said nothing, hurrying down the dim corridor instead.   

“…Are you insane?!” He had heard the indistinct screaming from outside the station, but only now, up close, it seemed to really speak to the thunderstorm raging inside of his chest. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!…”

“Well I couldn’t just stand there, Foggy, could I? That psycho with a badge has almost put a hole through his head!…”

Anger rang through Y/N’s voice like bullets falling on the ground. Matt could hear her heart beating double time, sensed the faint aroma of her sweat, mixed with blood and the remnants of her neroli perfume. She wasn’t afraid. She was pissed, mad out of her mind, as she slapped her hand against the entrance door, before pressing her forehead against it. 

“Whoever that guy is, he saved Karen’s life!…” she murmured. “I don’t regret shit, and I’d do it all over again”. 

As soon as Matt heard her move sufficiently far from the entrance, he inhaled deeply, the inside of his chest burning up like a fuming volcano. All he wanted to do was scream, but he was pretty sure he’d end up vomiting all over the place because of the escalating pain, hitting his body in waves. 

As soon as he opened the door, the room fell scary silent. Foggy’s rugged, infuriated breathing and a small drop of sweat rolling in between Y/N’s breasts was all he was able to catch, before her quiet voice filled his ears. 

“I swear, Matt, I can explain.”

His lips stretched out into a thin line, he made his way to the chair next to Foggy’s.

“…if I had a dime every time I heard that”, he whispered, disappointment lacing every word. He sank down into the uncomfortable chair, painfully slow and careful. He could hear - more like sense, really - Y/N bit on her bottom lip nervously, and Matt knew her eyes were glowing with guilt. 

While all he could think of was she could have been dead right now, and it would have been all my fault. 

“I was out with Karen and my good friend Jessica - we were at Josie’s to down a couple of beers.. Argh!…” submerged by the need to hide her face, Y/N rubbed her hands on her forehead, leaning down on the table with her elbows. Her nail must have scratched a cut that went from her temple to her eyebrow, a sharp breath escaping her lips. “I was tired and a little pissed at my editor for blacklisting my article on the Russians, and I wasn’t having fun. Felt like peeing on everyone’s parade, so when the clock struck midnight I decided to call it a night”.

She paused, trying to search her best friends’ faces, staring sternly at her. Rolling her eyes at their judging you expressions, she combed her fingers through her hair, pushing those messy strands to a side.

“I took the corner of 51th and 11th, when I heard some commotion at the docks. I marched straight towards Hudson… The alcohol making me fearless, I don’t know… I spotted three police cars outside that whitewashed building at the Piers 92/94, the old industrial glass warehouse, you know?… Everything seemed calm, and I felt stupid just standing there in the middle of the road, so I turned around and stumbled towards the park… But then I heard a window shattering. It was…” 

She paused, swallowing, trying to keep the undertones of awe and excitement in her voice at bay.  The notes that Matt hated with every fiber of his beaten and bruised body. 

“It was the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Matt. He just jumped through the window on the second floor, landed on his goddamn feet like a cheetah, bullets wheezing all around him, like some kind of a deadly rainstorm… I just…” she stuttered. “I just couldn’t look away.”

“Gooddamn it, Woods…” Foggy groaned, burying his face in his hands in a fit of despair. “Sorry, Matt”, he peaked at Murdock through his fingers.

“Can you imagine the kind of story that could be?” Y/N brushed his exclamation away impatiently. “I was close enough to take photos, I could have caught the Devil in action, it could be all over the news the next day, especially if I pulled all the information I collected on that shady warehouse in these past few weeks!” As Y/N’s confidence grew, Matt’s heart was shrinking into a tiny nubbin. “This could be my chance to prove that the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was on our side all along!…”

“What happened next?” Murdock interrupted drily, clutching his fists under the table.

Y/N sighed, her puffed-out chest falling down. She shot a glance at the camera in the right corner of the room.

“It’s okay, Woods, it’s off”, Murdock spoke a little impatiently, sensing her discomfort. “Please, go on”.

Y/N just stared at him in disbelief for a moment, probably thinking something along the lines of well damn, Murdock, for a blind guy you sure are insightful. 

He almost chuckled. If only you knew, princess. 

“Not what, who,” she growled quietly, suppressing her anger, seeping through the pores of her soft skin. “Detective Hoffman happened. He dashed out of the building like the goddamn place was on fire… He stopped by the cars, his gun loaded and ready. He didn’t shoot to stop or injure, he shot to kill, I know what I saw. It was a miracle the Devil actually managed to dodge his goddamn bullets!”

“No kidding,” Foggy snapped, and Matt instantly felt his gaze, burning holes in his head. “And then what? You just thought, hey, I better join the party before they run out of ammunition! Wouldn’t want to miss all the fun!”

“No,” Y/N challenged, the waves of anger she emanated hitting Matt like an avalanche. “I watched for as long as I could, until eight more dirty cops emerged from the building, attacking the Devil like a bunch of hell hounds! I had to do something before they made sure the man could never walk the Earth again! He put up quite a fight there, but when I saw Hoffman thrust a goddamn shard of glass the size of my arm through his chest…”

“Say what?!” Foggy boomed, nothing short of a nuclear bomb. He stared at Matt open-mouthed. “Jesus Christ! But how the fudge…?”

“What Foggy is trying to say here,” Matt cut in, kicking his best friend under the table to shut him up - Nelson gasped at the impact. “Is how the fudge did you think you could help him?… You could have ended up in a body bag, Woods, not in this interrogation room!…”

All-consuming silence settled over the three of them - Foggy was still nursing his leg, while Matt found himself involuntary soaking up the desperation with which Y/N was defending him, the Daredevil, without knowing who he was. He would rather die of glass and bullets than put her in danger, and he hated himself for having had involved her in this. 

And at the same time, sensing her warmth, her resolute desire to make Foggy and him understand that she cared for the Devil, and that they ought to, too, all he wanted to do was to just let go. To stop hating himself because of what he wanted. To absorb her determination, to accept her care, to savour it!… 

Nothing so wrong had ever felt so right, and his thoughts… They were tearing him apart.

“I fired a warning shot at Hoffman,” Y/N murmured, her lips barely moving. “The bullet must have scratched his thigh… Distracted him for long enough, so that the Devil could take the upper hand…”

Matt heard Y/N heartbeat, loud and clear. Nice and slow, it showed that she wasn’t afraid. His own heart, however… Murdock felt it bash against the walls of his ribcage so loud, he was sure both Foggy and Y/N could hear.

“He screamed at me to run, when he saw me… He was furious - not that someone decided to interrupt his little kick-ass session, but because it was me.”

“That’s bull, Woods!” Foggy exclaimed, sounding like a man desperately catching at straws. “Just listen to yourself! How would the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen know who you are?…”

Unblinking, Y/N stared at him for a solid minute, crossing her hands on her chest. Blood thumped in Murdock’s ears, his forehead dotted with crystal beads of sweat - the pain in the shoulder never ceased, and just when he thought he could handle no more, Y/N’s lips slowly parted, releasing, it seemed, his greatest fear. 

“He called me by my name, Foggy.”

As soon as the words filled the air around the three of them, like bonfire smoke, the time seemed to dissolve into itself, shapeless and inconsequential. Matt lost his breath, the realisation brought to light suffocating him.

“He must have recognised you from the Bulletin or something,” Foggy muttered in response to Y/N’s confession, throwing Murdock a lifeline. Matt nodded at him gratefully, his throat tight. “Now, if you ran just like he told you to, why the hell are we here? How did you end up in police custody?…”

Y/N let out a deep sigh, dropping her head in between her hands on the table. 

“They caught up with me on the corner of 12th and 46th”, she said. “And no, before you ask, I didn’t have that gun on me,” watching the question forming itself on Matt’s and Foggy’s faces, she beat them to it. “I… discarded it”. 

Chewing on his bottom lip, Matt considered the situation for a moment. Hoffman, or one of his lapdogs must have seen her run; it did not help that he willingly gave them her name, in his outburst of anger and panic. But unless they had tangible proof that she was the one firing that warning shot, they didn’t have jack on her. Even a testimony of an eyewitness would not be enough to prove she was involved in that mess he so carelessly created. 

It was all his goddamn fault!…

“Okay…” Foggy drawled out, thinking out loud. “That means the only thing they have on you…”

“…are words,” Matt finished for him, his head turned in Y/N’s direction. “Possibly an eyewitness, but with that alone they won’t be able to prove anything - the night is dark, and I hear the street lamps at the docks are rotten”. 

Y/N worried her bottom lip with her teeth, listening to him intently. 

“Then why and on what grounds are they detaining me?” she finally asked, sounding like she already knew the answer. 

Foggy and Matt exchanged heavy glances. 

“They can keep you in custody at least for the next 24 hours, and trust me, they are going to try and push the bail option off the table”, Foggy reasoned, his eyes switching between Y/N and Matt. “They think you know who the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen is”, he added, his voice barely perceptible.

“Do you?…” Matt urged under his breath without missing a beat, leaning closer to Y/N. A waft of his spicy perfume washed over her, mixed with a salty, metallic odour that she couldn’t quite place. She lost her train of thought for a moment, watching her reflection in his glasses, his eyes hidden behind their usual red armour. When she really thought about it, she could count the times she had basked in their hazel glow on one hand. 

With a sharp bob of his Adam’s apple, Matt swallowed, his face unreadable. 

“Um… hello, Matt, have you met me?” Y/N gave Murdock a sceptical look, her voice dropping a couple of octaves. She threw her hair back, instinctively moving towards him. “I’m a journalist, I don’t keep secrets. My job is to uncover them. Especially ones of this caliber”.

Bittersweet relief rolled over Matthew in a cool wave, spreading from his feet to the tips of his ears. He couldn’t help but chuckle at Y/N’s uncannily fitting choice of words. She was right, of course; revealed, this secret would shoot to kill, far more dangerous than a loaded gun. 

“Here’s what happens next,” Matt interlaced his fingers, joining his hands together on the table. “We’re going to have a word with Hoffman, and then we’re posting bail. Unless they have other ways to track down Daredevil so they can bring him to court, chances are you won’t even have to face the jury.”

“Peachy,” Y/N muttered under her breath, absentmindedly feeling for the cut on her forehead with her fingertips. Both Matt and Foggy were already getting on their feet. “At least I can scratch that from my bucket list…”

“Who the hell puts getting arrested on a bucket list?!” Foggy mused, staring at Y/N in disbelief. 

She rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks lightly with her fingertips. 

“Not getting arrested, Foggy, this isn’t my first rodeo,” she released an impatient breath. “Getting in trouble for helping Daredevil. Now that’s something I’d write down in my journal if I’d had one,” Matt heard her smile, her voice englobing him like a cashmere blanket. “Thank you for taking care of me, you both. You really don’t have to post bail, though…”

Matt’s body grew stiff. He leaned on the table separating them, with his hands biting into the wood. 

“We know for sure that Hoffman’s on Fisk’s payroll, Woods. And he won’t stop at anything - and I mean anything - to make you talk. I could never…” he stuttered, biting on his bottom lip hard, the eyes behind his glasses drilling a hole a couple of inches above Y/N’s head. “We’re posting bail”, he declared assertively. “Fight me.” 

Tense silence surrounded Matt and Y/N, as they just gazed at each other, the air around them buzzing with emotion and intent. Something was happening between the two, something mysterious and possibly life-changing, their bodies speaking in a language only they could understand. Y/N brushed her fingers against her lips - Matt rolled his tongue against the inside of his right cheek - and Foggy suddenly felt wrong trying to decipher whatever they were conjuring up, without as much as a touch. 

Clearing his throat, Foggy motioned towards the door. 

“I’m going to speak to Hoffman and start the paperwork. We should be all out of here in couple of hours, tops”. 

“And then we’re walking you home”, Matt pushed away from the table. Y/N sighed, half-opening her lips, and his entire body seemed to react to the nearly imperceptible sound: his skin shivered and his heart picked up some.

“Okay,” she said, her voice even, still looking at him. “I suppose I owe you this much”. 

†††

The rain was falling thickly as the three of them made their way out of the stuffy police station; the sky was still dark, with an occasional flash of lightening splitting it in two, three, four uneven cobalt blue parts. Crackles of thunder rolled across rooftops to the pattering of hefty raindrops, resonating in Matt’s feverish mind. 

Pain still gnawing at the corners of his mind, he realised he had never done such hard thinking as he did now, falling a bit behind Foggy and Y/N. Something was off, he could sense it. Ever since that tense moment they shared in the interrogation room, Woods had been unusually quiet, compliant and overall so unlike herself, agreeing to do just as Foggy and him told her, without even trying to put up a fight. At first, he thought that maybe she was tired - she, too, had a hell of a night, he had to remind himself. But then he sensed her stare from across the room as he talked to Hoffman - a stare that left his skin burning, his body vibrating under those restless interrogative eyes. 

Both Foggy and Y/N stopped just outside the heavy doors, waiting for him to catch up. Just as Matt stepped outside, he allowed himself a deep breath, despite the pain in his chest. The air seemed charged with electricity, and the humidity pressed down, suffocating him… Y/N’s eyes settled on his face, and he felt her hand wrap around his wrist. Still watching him closely, she interlaced their fingers. Her fingertips danced over his maimed knuckles… His breath hitched. Swallowing hard, Matt slid his hand out of her grip, adjusting the collar of his shirt. 

Good God! Had she figured it out?…

He was a goddamn mess, wasn’t he?

“As much fun as this had been,” Foggy spoke, pretending not to have noticed his best friends’ antics. “I’ve got to go. If I leave now, there might still be a chance for me to enjoy my night of mind-blowing sex and cuddling with Marci”. 

Y/N chuckled at his words. Matt barely raised an eyebrow. 

“Well, don’t let us stop you,” he said, notes of accusation tingling in every sound. 

He heard Foggy let out an exasperated breath, his heart beating faster than normal, and realised he was in this alone. 

Not that Matt could blame him. He was the only one responsible for this mess and it was up to him to deal with the consequences. 

“See you tomorrow, Fog,” Matt added, patting his best friend on a shoulder. Clearing his throat, Foggy gave Y/N and him one last look before darting to the nearest waiting taxi. 

“Stay safe, and vigilant, both of you.”

And just like that, Matt found himself alone with Y/N, in the very situation he dreaded from the minute he dropped Foggy’s call earlier that night. 

“You don’t have to walk me home”, Y/N spoke calmly, stepping out into the rain like this was the last thing that bothered her. “I’m sure you have better things to do”. 

The words felt like a slap, but Matt refused to acknowledge whatever meaning she’d put into them. He followed her into the rain, not batting an eyelid.

“I’m walking you home, Woods,” he sounded serene as he spoke; maybe a little too serene, but it was too late to do anything about it. “Don’t make me break my promise”. 

“Fine,” she shrugged, stretching her hand out to him. Water rolled down her face, soaking her trench, the smell of her neroli perfume intensifying as Matt stepped closer to her. She took him gently by the elbow, leading him down the glowing, wet street. 

The night was silent, save for a siren roaring a couple of blocks ahead. His body stiffened as he first heard its wailing sound; it took a soft squeeze of Y/N’s hand to get his head back in the game. He needed to win. So that his secret identity remained secret, and Woods remained oblivious to his late night shenanigans. 

“How are you holding up?” Matt ventured, mindlessly falling in line with Y/N’s steady pace. He felt her shrug as her hand slid higher up his bicep, creating friction. Matt bit the inside of his cheek, trying to ignore her soft breaths, interrupted by the whispering sound of rain crushing against her damp skin, small drops rolling down the curve of her breasts…

“I’m fine,” she answered, her voice smooth and soft, like velvet. “I am more worried about Daredevil, he got hit pretty deep with that shard of glass…”

With his breath hitching, Matt noticed a change in her heart’s rhythm - it slowed down, but it thumped louder now, wilder. 

“I’m… Well, the night is a blur now, you know?… But there’s one detail that bothers me, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around it…”

“What is it?” Matt turned cold with irrational fear, suddenly realising they weren’t walking anymore. 

Wherever they were, this wasn’t Y/N’s block - it just didn’t smell like it. 

Concentrating, Matt caught a whiff of Indian spices through the tantalising veil of the neroli perfume… That neroli perfume, dear Lord, it was driving him insane, pushing his thoughts in all the wrong directions… Smelled like gas, too, there must have been a gas station within a 30-metres radius… And camomile detergent…

And then it hit him - it’s her who walked him home. They stood just beside his building, but why did she…?

Y/N’s hands landed on his shoulders, cutting his flow of thoughts short - she stood facing him now. So achingly close, it felt like there were not much of that buzzing hot air between her soul and his. Before he could remember how to breathe, Y/N’s fingertips caressed his his cheeks, moving smoothly up until she reached the wet cold metal of his glasses, pulling them away from his face. Matt looked steadily at her lips, his eyelashes begging for her touch. 

“The moment I fired that gun,” she whispered, water rolling down her lips and chin. “I swear I saw Daredevil flinch, he dipped his head a little to a side… His deep red mouth moved, and I could swear I saw those lips before…”

Her fingers moved across the skin on her chest, breaking water patterns… Just like she was breaking his will, pushing him to surrender.

Matt groaned barely audibly, his brain electrified. Helpless and intoxicated, with her scent sending him in a heady trance, he let his hands find their home on her waist, his touch gentle, worshipful.

His cane fell on the ground, and neither of them noticed.

“…He turned his head my way and it was like he saw me. And the next thing I know…” 

Matt’s body was hard, pushing against her soft breasts. He didn’t want to leave marks, but he couldn’t let go of her. Rain hit her cheekbones, and the water splashed against his nose and lips. He was losing it. Losing control.

“And the next thing I know, he screams - Run,” she dipped her head, her breath burning the skin on his neck. Matt crushed a groan in his throat, grabbing her arms, holding her in place.

“Run, Woods, run!”

The wind held its breath. A stillness fell over the street. The silence got torn apart by a low rumble of thunder. 

It felt like the ground underneath Matt’s feet was crumbling, and the walls he had spent so much time building around himself tumbling to the ground. Like he just stood there, breathless, holding up the roof, so that the weight of the truth didn’t crush his life-outside-Daredevil-duties, the life he fought so hard to hold on to. The life in which Y/N loved and trusted him.

He really blew it, didn’t he? A single second, a fleeting-moment kind of realisation, a mind-numbing moment of fear… All it took for his life to go down in flames of hell. 

Everything stopped. His heart came to a screeching halt. 

“Y/N, please,” he muttered, licking the water from his bottom lip. “Please, just let me…”

Her lips obliterated his every thought, swallowing the words off his mouth. Matt’s brain was instantly on fire - but her lips were cold, and the cool relief spread in waves all over his body, soothing all the parts of him that’d been on fire for too long.

From then on, everything accelerated, happening in a flash. Y/N pushed her fingers through his mane of damp hair, Matt groaned, his head falling back. Their bodies were aligned, her nipples cold against his chest…  

Y/N lips were Matt’s salvation and his torment. Exhaling frantically into his mouth, Y/N bit on his bottom lip, letting him feel her teeth, her need, her gratitude… She let him name it. 

“Oh my… dear Lord,” Matt growled, the feeling of diving headfirst into an erupting volcano with her, finally kicking his common sense into submission. With a jerk of his bruised body, he hoisted Y/N up, guiding her legs to wrap around his waist. Kissing her mad, kissing her senseless, he made his way up the porch and into the building, the door slamming shut behind them. 

The explosions of thunder continued to drown Hell’s Kitchen in the most deafening racket; but even its uproars could not hide the sounds made by two lovers, moving against each other, feeling each other… Loving each other like they’d never loved before.   

See the list of the prompts here & request the hell outta them 😈

[bewareofthorns]

jeepers! meet rowan ‘ro’ sharpe, tenant of room 3b, college student tentatively majoring in history and wholesome all-american boy learning to stand on his own.  this is legiterally the worst ™ intro, but it is also everything i applied with! 

·      ☆ ⤻ logan shroyer. meet ro sharpe. he is/are a 20 year old history student, who’s been residing in apartment #3b for a year. usually , you can catch him on the subway listening to a whiter shade of pale  by procol harum and their roommates insist that he reminds them of rumpled sheets, sunlight streaming through a half-opened window and tangled earbuds. the libra has been described as candid & guarded but since he’s known as the all-american, i guess we’ll just have to wait and see .

a brief intro

think basic white boy. now more basic. even more basic. if ur at fuccboi, ur going in the wrong direction. 

he is absolutely the kid in high school that you wanted to hate, but that you couldn’t. his parents raised him right and that frustrates others around him to no end.

he’s as american as apple pie and just as sweet. if you met him in his native environment, he’d probably be somewhere in between a state fair and a football game. picture like any movie where the underdog leads his team to state. that was him in senior year.

he had a mom and stepdad and two little siblings that he left behind in ohio. (and sometimes, though he hates to admit it because it sounds like something a coward would say, he wishes he had never really left them.)

the world is bigger than he thought it was. and there’s times when he’s in the apartment and people are walking by that he can’t help but be a little afraid.

on social media, if you scroll back in time, before the apartment, all his posts before got is pictures of these two little kids and like football cleats and like terrible shaky videos of performances he did with the awful band that he made with his friends. he never thought he was going to go to new york city for college. he never thought- that this would be his life.

the drama that goes on, the messiness of the rest of the people who live in the apartment—as much as he never expected it to be, this is a vibrance that sucks him in, that has a hold on him that he can’t really explain. there’s a joy to it, of course, an intenseness that he can’t deny. 

just a fish out of water here in the city. part of him wants to go back to when he just had one girlfriend for like four years and they were going to go to college together and get married and he was going to be an actuary or a tax auditor or something. part of him still believes that he will– 

but he also knows. he loves this life. he’ll never be able to go back. 

I”M LITERALLY CRYING I LVE HTIS BEAUTIFUL WHITE BOY. HE LIVES SUCH A GOOD & WHOLESOME LIFE. I BET HIS MOM WENT ON HIS FIRST DATE WITH HIM WHEN HE WAS 14 AND, WHEN HE WAS 7. HE WALKED AROUND THE NEIGHBORHOOD AND GAVE EVERYONE THEIR MAIL FROM THEIR MAILBOXES EVENTHO THAT’S A FELONY. HE JUST WAS A GOOD WHOLESOME KID.

.

More

1.       His mom and his bio dad never got married and, while his dad did his best to be around while he was really young, his job eventually took him away to nyc and both of them agreed it would be best if he didn’t look back.

2.       though he remembers missing his biological father terribly at first, he was young enough that it hardly mattered. within the next few years, his mother got married, ro was adopted by his stepfather, and he would get two new half-siblings. 

a.       by the end of the first year of the marriage, ro had already taken to calling his stepfather ‘dad’. after all, it was his stepfather who took him out to backyard and taught him to play catch. it was his stepfather who helped him with his math homework and bought him christmas gifts. it was his stepfather who was there. and to ro, that was all that mattered. 

3.       he never once thought his childhood was missing anything. he took bass guitar and swimming lessons; he played on the local baseball team and, then, after deciding it wasn’t for him, joined the football team. he had a good group of friends and even did fairly well in school.  

4.       it wasn’t until he got into high school that things started to fray at the edges. after pulling a prank at school and getting into trouble, his stepfather sat him down and asked if he were acting out bc he missed his real father. he hadn’t been– at least, he hadn’t thought he was, but, when the gate was opened, he admitted that he wanted to at least meet the man who he had so few memories of. 

5.       so he did. and it went okay. There were no hard feelings. They agreed to keep meeting up.

6.       ro was lucky, though. as he was forced to navigate through this complicated relationship with his father, he was able to escape the perils that usually plague teens in  high school. 

a.       he was smart enough to talk with the academically-inclined and creative enough to hang around the arts kids, but his true saving grace was his position on the football team. he was good at it— enough that by his junior year, he had gotten an offer to join the reserve team for his dream school. it was a good scholarship and it also allowed him to pursue the degree that he was interested in (econ and math). 

7.       but despite accepting the offer almost immediately— he never ended up actually enrolling. Because he had also secretly applied to a nyc college to spend more time with his bio dad who lived in the region. And when he got accepted, he just knew-

a.       i don’t think he understood what he was getting into. the college he is going to has technically a better reputation than the state school he had originally wanted, but he just wanted– to know his dad better. to have a real relationship with his dad before it was too late.

b.       it weighs heavy on his mind that he threw away the larger college scholarship, the chance to be with his friends, the football offer — all just to spend some time in nyc for the more frequent opportunity to he feels guilty, as if him just being here is some kind of betrayal to the family that raised him. 

8.       lastly, ro absolutely calls his mom and stepfather every week, but still finds himself struggling to hold a conversation with his father. They don’t meet up as often as he thought they would. School takes up too much time for him. And his father is always working. And though his father is the one paying for his rent and also a chunk of his tuition, he still longs for a better connection.

9.       he’s really just a small town boy from ohio and here, where it seems like everyone parties and engages in a rock star lifestyle, he’s incredibly out of his depth. he’s sweet and he’s young and he’s responsible. he’s not here to spiral out of control or be number one  he’s just here to learn what it means to be a student. And also… if he can, someone’s son. 

fun facts

       he skateboards. everywhere.

       he doesn’t drink coffee.

       he stopped drinking soda when he turned 17 for a dare and never picked it up again.

       he knows how to knit.

       he’s a hardcore romantic. his mom took two tries to get it right, but she got it right.

        Did he have a high school gf that lasted for almost the full four years? You betcha. Did they break up because he went to NYC? You got it. Is he heartbroken over it and trying to fill the void? Done and done.

       In the apartment, he’s definitely trying to be the voice of reason. That’s not to say he can’t get down with the best of them, but he’s also always trying to get things under control.

        Since he’s 20, that also means—he’s not very good at standing his ground.

WANTED CONNECTIONS are fckn everything. 

exes, crushes, fwb, mentors, enemies (petty or deep-rooted... but i dare u to hate him). my literal fave r weird shared communal space plots. 

someone who will buy him contraband since he’s underage !! he swears he’s responsible

someone who he gives life advice to (in all of his iDiot 20 yo boy brain glory)

someone who gives HIM life advice to counsel him through being an idiot 20 yo boy 

someone who he caught doing something outlawed in the building

smoking? parking your bike in behind the potted plants? look we all know ur growing something behind the succulents but i don’t want to know okay. 

I was sticking my head out the window and you were draining water onto the pavement. Dude I see you. My god. We all have sinks. 

our mail keeps getting switched up ?? look ??? idk ???

We do our laundry at the same time every week and there’s just NOT ENOUGH MACHINES and its super weird bc like. we  never talk elsewhere about it. but every week we show up with full baskets at the SAME TIME

I know you keep ur door unlocked and so like. we’re friends. you won’t mind if I just pop in to use ur dish soap. i like ran out. 

KEEP UR NOISE LEVEL DOWN U HEATHEN. IM STUDYING. are u singing? is that a cat’s yowl? are u… Look IF YOU DON’T i’ll put a hole thru ur door.

[artificialqueens]

Here I Go Again! (Group Fic) - Chapter One - pureCAMP

A/N - without further ado, here it is! i hope u enjoy it as much as i do because im the hugest mamma mia fan ever

Honey, Honey - I Have A Dream - Money, Money, Money 

One wedding. One husband. One mom. Three dads. Trixie held her breath and gazed out at the horizon. The way that the sun reflected off the sea water, creating idyllic crystals in the midst of their paradise, was something Trixie had always loved. As a little girl, she’d stare from her bedroom window at the glittering ocean until the sun sank beneath the waves, and she would be put to bed. She would never not love staring out until her eyesight went blurry.

  However, there was one thing she loved more, and that was when the gentle waves of the sea were interrupted by a boat carrying her two best friends. Stood at the dock, she bounced up and down, unable to control her excitement.

  “TRIXIEEEEE!” Naomi yelled first, descending from the boat with ease. Her long, slender legs carried her over the wobbling of the little boat and onto the wooden planks with all the grace of an aspiring supermodel. Kim wasn’t so lucky. She stumbled, almost falling in, but managed to regain her balance and land on the dock with a slightly louder thud. Both girls opened their arms instantly and crushed Trixie in a sweaty hug.

  It had been too long. Kim had been staying with her father and living away, whilst Naomi attended a girl’s school far off in Italy. Of course they’d kept in contact, but it was nothing in comparison to having her girls back again, in the flesh, under the baking Greek sun.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Trixie beamed, regarding her friends. “Everything’s been so crazy! Mom is gonna be so happy to see you! Although I’m sure she’ll start to stress even more now that guests are arriving.”

  Trixie’s mom, Sharon, was the definition of a workaholic. The moment she’d seen the ring, and Trixie’s huge smile, she’d taken the idea of a huge white wedding in her stride, as though it was something she did every day. Money was tight, and it added on a boatload of extra work, but she didn’t care.

  Naomi smiled. “I can’t believe little Trix is getting hitched! I can’t wait to meet your guy and all his hot friends.”

  Kim rolled her eyes. “You’re really thinking of your vagina right now? We’re here for Trixie’s wedding, not so you can flirt with some oiled up Greek dude!”

  “That’s what Trixie did, isn’t it?” Naomi shrugged. “Let me find one, too.”

  “Brian isn’t Greek.” Trixie told her, laughing. “He’s Russian-American.”

  Part of Trixie couldn’t believe it - she was getting married. Sure, she’d always believed it would happen someday. Most people did it. But to be the first out of her friends - both of them uniquely beautiful, their complexions darker and smoother than Trixie’s - it was incredible. At only twenty, somebody had seen past her red cheeks, her freckles, her dimples and her clumsiness, and fallen hard for her. Brian was a blessing.

  “Aw, you’re all lovesick! Your eyes are sparkling!” Naomi cooed.

  “Ew.” Kim shook her head. “Keep your oily Greeks away from me.”

  “That’s probably offensive.” Trixie said. “Hey, come on! Let’s get off this dock and actually catch up. So much is happening right now!”

  Beneath her feet, the white sand was soft and almost powder-like. Over the years, Trixie had gotten used to it, barely noticing the way it stretched around the perimeter of the island that encased her wonderful little home. Bright sunlight glazed overhead as she led the girls up the rocky path to the cliffside, her eyes fixed on the white buildings at the top, but she stopped short at the entrance to one of the small caves.

  When they were children, living on the island, Trixie often escaped from the hotel and taverna by skipping down the cliff face towards a little cave. It was perfectly safe, inhabited only by some of the island’s native flowers, and she’d proclaimed the three large rocks there to be her pirate ship, Naomi’s ship, and Kim’s. Years and years had been spent playing there, or gossiping as teens - anything it was needed for. Now, it was serving a different purpose. Hiding a secret.

  “Are we stopping for a rest break? Thank God.” Kim huffed, catching her breath against the steep edge of the cliff. “I don’t know how you do this everyday.”

  Trixie shook her head. “I have to, I live here. Now shush, I have something I need to tell you.”

  Naomi’s eyes widened. Kim’s jaw hit the floor.

  “I’m not pregnant!” She held her hands up, her skin blushing furiously. “God, it’s like I can read your minds! No babies here, no way. I’m way too young for that! It’s actually… about my dad.”

  As she’d expected, both girls looked confused. Kim inclined her head. “The dad you’ve never met and know nothing about?”

  Trixie sighed. “That’s the one. It’s just… with all this wedding stuff happening, I keep thinking about him. Everything is so traditional except the fact that I don’t have a dad to give me away at the beginning of the ceremony. I know mom can do it, but it isn’t the same.”

  Not having a dad hadn’t really had the hugest impact on Trixie’s life. At the end of the day, one fantastic parent was much better than two mediocre ones. Still, she’d always felt like a part of her identity was missing. She loved her mom dearly; she’d be forever indebted to her for everything she’d done for her. But often, she didn’t recognise herself in her mom. There had to be something more. Part of her she had to have gotten from her dad - the man she’d never met.

  “But how?” Naomi fretted. “I know you want the perfect wedding, but no one knows anything about your dad. There’s no way you’ll find him.”

  Tentatively, Trixie removed the book from beneath the rock she’d sat on. A shiver of excitement ran down her spine as she looked at it, even though she’d already examined it cover to cover. The tie-dyed front was old and withered, the pages curled with age. She leafed through it again carefully, acting like it was made of gold. If young Trixie had been a pirate, this was her treasure.

  “Well… Mom wrote about him in this - it’s the year she got pregnant with me. I found it when searching for some wedding decorations. I read it, and invited my dad.”

  Kim bit her lip. “Didn’t Sharon say your dad was long gone when she found out about you?”

  “Yes. And he was.” Trixie replied. “But she never said anything more. Claimed she forgot. I never knew if he was an islander, a long-term boyfriend, a summer romance, I didn’t even know his name!”

  “And now?” Naomi pressed.

  Trixie began to read aloud.

  July 17th Dear Diary, What a night. Justin thrills me in the BEST of ways. He has the most beautiful eyes. His hands are so strong. His arms are so muscular… I’m rambling. I can’t help it. Justin’s the one, I know he is. I’ve never felt like this before. He makes me feel so safe, so loved, so… You know. Tonight was the best night of all. I rowed him over to the little island again, and…

Naomi pulled a face. “And what?”

  Kim smacked her upside the head. “Naomi, you dumb bitch. If you were writing a diary about your sex life twenty years ago, you’d use dot dot dot. Keep up, please.”

  Dear Diary, WHAT. A. NIGHT. Justin is a fucking beast! I feel like I want to scream when he does his thing! He’s just oh-so-amazing! Every single night, we just…

  “Your mom really knew how to party.” Kim nodded, impressed. “So your dad is some unidentified guy named Justin. I’m sure there isn’t many Justin’s out there in the world. You’ll find him easy.”

  Trixie rolled her eyes so hard, she thought they might fall out. “I’m not done! It’s not that simple.”

  “Glad you caught on.” Kim murmured.

  “Not like that!” Trixie defended herself. “Just… there’s more.”

  Dear Diary, What a night. Justin’s a liar, a dirty cheating rotten liar and I never want to see his fucking face ever again. Engaged! Engaged! All this time, he’s been holding me in his arms, telling me he’s in love with me… and he’s engaged. He’s gone, and I’ll never see him again. Off to get married.

“Asshole.”

  “Cunt.”

  “But not, like, unheard of.” Naomi commented. “Some asshole dumped your mom for another woman. A stupid move, but that’s men for you.”

  Trixie grinned. “Keep listening! The plot thickens!”

  August 4th Dear Diary, What a night! Jaremi said to hell with my tiny sailboat, and rented a huge motorboat for the two of us! He’s so sweet. Every single part of me wants Justin to come back, but Jaremi… he’s so good to me. I couldn’t help it. It was late, we were happy… one thing led to another…

  “DOT DOT DOT!” Kim screeched gleefully. “Get it, Sharon!”

  “Shh!” Trixie smacked her arm, paranoid that someone would overhear. As overjoyed as she had been at her new discoveries, she couldn’t risk her mom finding out.

  “Okay. So Jaremi is your dad, then. Easy peasy?” Naomi stated uncertainly.

  Trixie shook her head, clutching the book to her chest and beginning to make her way up the rest of the cliff. Left with no choice, the girls followed, calling at her to slow down as she read on, still grinning.

  Dear Diary, Jaremi’s gone. Without a trace. Supposedly he sailed off in the night and now he could be fucking miles away. So much for a good guy.

August 13th Dear Diary, What a night! Willam is the funniest guy I think I’ve ever met. He sings so well, and we had so much fun on the guitar he bought for me. Not to mention he’s pretty cute, and well…

  “So which is your dad?”

  Trixie stopped in the middle of the open hotel courtyard, deftly hiding the book behind a plant pot and smiling nervously. “I… I don’t know.”

  Kim frowned, peering round the freshly-laundered bed sheets that hung on the rows of washing lines to try and see the diary. “Read on, then! Doesn’t Sharon say later on?”

  She shook her head. “I already read ahead.” She admitted. “When I first found it. The last entry is just the word ‘Pregnant’ in shaky handwriting. No dates, no names. I’m sure she knows, but I can’t ask her. Especially not now.”

  It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Everything seemed like a good idea at that time of night. When the sky turned inky black, and the moonlight created idly glittering circles on the waves, it was peaceful and perfect. It was the kind of night, the kind of atmosphere where nothing could go wrong. With high hopes and a gentle song, she’d posted three envelopes.

  Justin Honard.

Jaremi Carey.

Willam Belli.

  One of them had to respond. All three, well - that would be amazing. Trixie would find her dad, she’d be able to be given away by him… everything would fall perfectly into place. The way it should be. The piece of her that had always been missing would finally be filled. She clung to that hope with all she had.

  “Wait… which one did you invite, then?” Naomi asked.

  Trixie waited for them to catch up, her beaming smile something of a giveaway. Slowly, recognition dawned in both of her best friend’s eyes.

  “ALL THREE?!”

  “All three what?”

  In unison, Trixie, Naomi and Kim all jumped out of their skin, scrambling to face Sharon and attempting to not look guilty - a feat which made them all look incredibly guilty.

  “All three of us, together again! How… how awesome!” Kim fumbled. It was a bad lie, but it was the best they could do.

  Nevertheless, Sharon’s face broke into a smile. “You’re all so big now… go back to being babies! Stop getting older, it’s awful! Still, I’m glad you’re having fun. I used to have fun.”

  Trixie put her hands on her hips, raising her eyebrows humorously at her mom. There were definitely many undeniable similarities between the mother and daughter. Both of them had shining golden hair and bright blue eyes, although at almost forty, Sharon’s hair was streaked with bits of silver and lines had begun to surround her eyes. They shared the same mischievous smile, the only difference yet again being that Sharon’s held a few more summers of laughter and stress in the lines around it. Whilst Trixie’s fashion sense was girlish and pink, Sharon had to settle for practical, work-appropriate clothing in order to be the one-woman hotel staff committee that she had devoted her life to being.

  “You sure did have fun,” Naomi mumbled, earning a sharp kick and a yelp from Trixie. “Me and Kim, we’re going to, uh… unpack in our rooms. Bye!”

  Before she could get suspicious, a familiar voice rang out.

  “USED TO HAVE FUN?! SO WHAT ARE WE HERE FOR, TO BE FUCKING STATUES?!”

  Sharon grinned. “With you two, you’d be gargoyles! Get out here, you old crows.”

  Jinkx came strutting forwards first, fully decked out and prepared for the island’s weather in an enormous floppy sun-hat. Her tufts of ginger hair were visible against her forehead, and she squeezed Trixie tightly in her arms as soon as she saw her.

  “Aunty Jinkxy!”

  “Trixie Needles, you need to stop being so beautiful right now! It’s so lovely to see you, all grown up and ready to be a bride. I’m hoping to meet the mystery man soon!” She trilled, squeezing hard once again before releasing Trixie from her grasp to press a kiss to both of her cheeks.

  Raja came strolling through a moment after Jinkx, with the leisurely supermodel walk she seemed to have perfected. Her long, shapely legs were exposed through her wraparound skirt, and she was decked out in lavish jewellery. Her dark eyes glittered behind designer sunglasses, and her lips curved upwards into something of a smize.

  “Aunty Raja!”

  As usual, Raja’s hugs were less warm and soft than Jinkx’s, but she smelt of expensive perfume and clung tightly to Trixie before surveying her up and down.

  “I definitely wasn’t this beautiful at my first wedding. He’s a lucky guy!” She beamed, ruffling Trixie’s hair.

  Together, the three of them were an odd pairing. Jinkx was short, pale and utterly hilarious, with her screechy laugh and generally odd taste. Raja was tall, statuesque even, and loved anything and everything expensive and fashionable. Sharon was the only one of them to have children. There shouldn’t have been any correlation, anything obvious to link the three together - but Trixie knew from the diary that their youth had been filled with days spent with one another. It felt nice, knowing that other side of the women she’d grown up around.

  “Mom, have you seen Brian around?” Trixie asked. “I want to talk to him about something but goodness knows where he’s got to.”

  Sharon laughed, somewhat sarcastically. “He was doing ‘important stag do prep’ last time I saw him - studying cocktail recipes with Karl and the rest of the boys. Maybe he’ll be stumbling to the aisle tomorrow.”

  “I’m hurt that you think of me that way, Sharon.” A pair of warm hands came snaking around Trixie’s waist from behind, Brian’s familiar cologne being the giveaway. He kissed her forehead gently. “Krasavitsa, tell her I’m nice.”

  Last summer, Brian had arrived in Greece for a lad’s holiday that had gone wrong. Half the group fell out, some of them had gone home, and Brian had decided to kiss all his asshole buddies goodbye and vacation on his own. By chance and local recommendation, he jumped onto the bi-weekly boat trip that led tourists to the island. There, Trixie met him on the beach and hit it off with him instantly. The following spring, he’d proposed.

  He made Trixie’s heart do all kinds of flips and somersaults. By no means was he traditionally handsome, with his buzzed blonde hair and high cheekbones, but when he smiled and laughed, he revealed a goofy, warm-hearted persona that she’d fallen head over heels for. He was strange, eclectic - every word under the sun. Trixie had spent months howling with laughter at his odd little thoughts, his off comments, his mismatched attempts at flirting. She was sure they were meant to be. Fate had brought them together.

  “My little girl…” Sharon smiled wistfully, reaching out to twirl a lock of Trixie’s hair around her finger. “Back in my day, we sure didn’t get married at twenty. Remember those t-shirts we used to wear?”

  Trixie grinned. She loved it when her mom started to talk about the past, even just a little bit. She was always so fixed and focused on the day-to-day that the rare moments of talking about how things had once been had always interested Trixie.

  Raja chuckled. “Marriage is an institution-”

  “-For people who belong in an institution!” Sharon finished.

  “Handmade, too,” Jinkx winked at Trixie and Brian. “Scribbled on with pen. Mind you, I suppose your old mom has had to change her tune nowadays, eh?”

  Sharon blew a raspberry at her friend. “Old! Bah, you’re right. Anyway, on the topic of weddings, I have work to do! And so do you, Mr McCook - not stag prep! Get those lazy friends of yours back on track, and whilst you’re at it, make sure my bar staff aren’t handing out free drinks to the ladies again!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Brian saluted like an army recruit, and kissed Trixie’s hand. Raja, Jinkx and Sharon began to disperse.

  This was her chance.

  “Brian, wait.” Trixie spoke softly. “I need to talk to you about something.”

  Instantly, all of Brian’s attention was focused on Trixie. His blue eyes searched her face, concerned but gentle. “Everything okay?

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Trixie muttered. “It’s not me, it’s -”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Trixie spotted a small sailing boat on the horizon. After years of living on the island, she was quite well versed in timings - she knew it would arrive at the shore very soon. Normally, she wouldn’t have cared, but this was no ordinary boat.

  The sailing boats weren’t for hire, so whoever was sailing it had to own it. Typically, locals used them to get to and from the mainland when they felt like it, but this one had only three passengers, dressed in everyday clothing and holding suitcases as though they didn’t live nearby.

  Three men.

  Suitcases.

  Had they been ordinary tourists, they would’ve been arriving on the bi-weekly boat which was scheduled for four days time. The only reason anyone would’ve sailed to the island was if they had a specific reason that couldn’t wait, such as a wedding invite for the following day…

  Trixie’s heart leapt into her mouth.

  “It’s - It’s nothing.” She rushed out, her eyes widening. “Mom will want you to go do your duties, you know what she’s like. We can talk later. Bye!”

  Before she could run off, Brian twisted her around, meeting their lips in a sweet kiss. Under normal circumstances, Trixie would’ve melted into him, leaning against his chest for another few moments of peace before the continued wedding chaos, but not now. She needed to make sure that nobody - especially not her mom - found these three familiar strangers arriving at the island. All hell would break loose if she wasn’t careful.

  —

  Thankfully, she got to the dock just in the nick of time. The three men were just stepping off the boat and talking quietly amongst one another when Trixie caught them. For a moment, she just stared. They were each attractive in different ways and all around the same age. One of these men was her dad. There was just no way of telling which.

  “Perhaps this young lady will be able to help us… Hello there! We three strangers have been invited to a wedding by Sharon, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about what’s going on, would you? I’m Jaremi.” The tanned man spoke first, offering his hand for Trixie to shake. He wore glasses and an adventurous look about him.

  When Trixie spoke, she sounded breathless. “Yes, yes… Yes, we’re expecting you. You two must be Justin and Willam.”

  She directed her attention towards the other two men, both who smiled and differentiated themselves. Willam was blond and well-off, judging by his clothes. Justin was lankier, with dark hair and a handsome face.

  “Come with me, we have rooms for you. Well… one room. We’re a little tied up for space at the moment, with this wedding that’s happening.”

  As she made her back up from the dock, the three men following, she started to feel uneasy. What angle should she play here? Should she admit that she was Sharon’s daughter, and risk them knowing that they could potentially be her dad? Should she say that she was the one getting married, again risking her secret being exposed, or act as though it was someone else?

  Still, beneath her panic, hope fluttered in her chest like a butterfly escaping a chrysalis. Despite not knowing which one yet, she was in the presence of her dad. He was here, on the island, and going to be attending her wedding. Even though there would be carnage in the long run, Trixie was excited. This was her dream, materialized. She just had to do what felt right.

  “We’ll, uh, have to go round the back of everything.” Trixie told them, steering them out of any paths that her mom might’ve been on. “Everything’s a little hectic, so it’s easier that way.”

  “Seems fair. Is Sharon around?” Justin spoke up.

  Trixie froze a little, but quickly recovered. She clambered over the remains of a broken door, discarded in a little alley, and beckoned the three men to follow her round the back of the hotel. Luckily for her, the room that she’d preplanned wasn’t too far, tucked away at the back of the hotel. Three beds were already waiting.

  “Not at the moment, but I’m sure she will be.”

  With a winning smile, she opened the door to the room she’d prepared, closing it behind her once everybody was inside. She took a moment to inspect each of them properly, noticing the three of them doing the same to her.

  “Sorry if this seemed a little rushed… I’m Trixie.” She smiled sweetly.

  “You’re the girl getting married?” Willam asked.

  Trixie grinned, pointing at the ring on her finger. “Now, about this door - it gets a little stuck sometimes because it’s old, but if you just shove against it real hard-”

  “You’re Sharon’s daughter.” Justin said. It wasn’t a question.

  Left without a choice, Trixie nodded. Stay calm, she told herself. There was a good chance that none of them would realize why they’d been invited, at least not yet. She had time to come clean, confess and settle everything before the big day.

  “I knew you looked familiar. God, I bet she hasn’t aged a day.” He sounded wistful. “I know she’s busy, but can I see her? I want to thank her for this invite-”

  “No!” Trixie panicked, internally cursing herself as soon as the outburst came. “I… shit. Mom didn’t send the invitations to you, I did. She doesn’t know you’re here.”

  Three pairs of eyes stared at her - concerned, confused, amused. The truth was coming out a little sooner than Trixie had anticipated, but that was fine. She was crafty. As long as her mom didn’t find out until the very last second, it would all turn out okay.

  “Listen.” She whispered, drawing closer. “She’s been so stressed constantly about my wedding, so I felt bad and invited you guys to cheer her up. She talks about her friends from the past all the time, I thought she’d like it.”

  All three of her guests reacted slightly at the word ‘friends’. Perhaps that wasn’t right; it was clear from her mom’s diary that they had been so much more than that.

  Trixie took a deep breath and continued. “Just… if she sees you, don’t tell her you’re here for my wedding. Make something up, a happy coincidence that you’re here. Please. She’ll freak out at having unexpected guests, I just know it, but once she gets past the stress she’ll be so happy.”

  Justin sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t be here, I should go. Trixie, your mom hates me.”

  “Maybe she did, twenty years ago.” Trixie countered. “No one can hold a grudge, or any kind of feeling, for that long. You can’t just go! I want you at my wedding, all of you!”

  Slowly, surely, Jaremi and Willam began to laugh, coaxing Justin to join them. It was totally absurd, it really was. Trixie herself could see the bizarreness of the situation, and giggled along with them. It felt nice. Laughing with her dad - or at present, dads.

  Jaremi took his hat off and grinned. “You’re a firecracker, like your mom. He’ll stay, won’t you Justin?”

  Justin shook his head, smiling. “I suppose I have to. Seems like your mom’s taught you all her old tricks. There’s no way of getting out of this, is there?”

  Trixie beamed. “Nope! Remember what I said - lie, lie, and lie again. She can’t know I invited you, or that you’re here for the wedding. She’ll go insane.”

  The worry in her chest started to settle. Justin, Jaremi and Willam were amazingly sweet, and had agreed to cooperate and go along with a few white lies. Trixie was sure that in no time, she’d find out which one was her dad, and be able to have the perfect wedding with her dad walking her down the aisle to give her away. In an ideal world, maybe her mom would even make peace with her old flings, and revive some old friendships - but she knew not to hope for too much.

  “I need to get going…” Trixie murmured, feeling slightly regretful. She wanted to stay, to learn more about each of them. “Thank you so much for accepting those invites.”

  Justin snorted, but there was no malice in it. “It was always impossible to say no to your mother. Twenty years, and nothing’s changed.”

[sundrenched-smilez]

What sort of world do Strumm and Shiver live in? What race (species?) are they? Do they have magic? Are they native to the world/city/plane they live on? I assume they know each other or are related to each other, if they're new at the same time -- how do they know each other?

What sort of world do Strumm and Shiver live in? 

i want to make this a world where recovery is encouraged. it’s a magical and powerful place, and so many people can do all of these extraordinary things, so why can’t we bring them up when they’re trying to function, to get better? they deserve that chance, and we should give it to them. this is an affectionate world, that teaches love and mercy. it can still have it’s cruel moments, and we’ll explore that thru strumm, but only after the matter, while they’re recovering, and trying to move past what happened. which is why i’m calling it “a delicate tale of recovery” bc i think that these things require a lot of attention, and care. it certainly isn’t an easy road to getting better, but thru the brambles and briers, there is a path, and u can make it thru. 

aside from that, magic is everywhere, it’s a near-constant, and it’s beautiful. people make elaborate shops that r so custom-designed that u recognize them as much as u would a person. no two shops r the same!! like magic, they have their own spin on them. it’s something i’m excited to explore as i flesh out this world. :~))

What race (species?) are they? 

i’m not sure on this yet tbh!! not human, and i think there’s multiple, but that’s something i’ll have to explore. I think that bodies can be shaped depending on what kind of magic they manifest, if it’s powerful enough. there are probably examples of metal Base witches that r made out of metal, in part, or entirely. or by choice!! you embody your magic, and reap what u sow!! there are some ppl who can change parts of their bodies at will, and some that are completely embodying their magic, like plant ppl, or those who have rough earth-skin, and can change the material. this isn’t for sure yet, but is a possibility. maybe corruption from magic is a thing!! we’ll have to see where the story goes :~)) it’s mostly going to focus on recovery as a main theme. i have the first few panels thought out, and then i’m going to play it a bit by ear until i get some time w the characters to hear what they need to go thru, u kno!!

Do they have magic? 

they do!! they have rly diff magic from each other, and i think everyone does, really; some ppl get water manipulation, others can make clay sculptures from mud, and marble from ordinary stone. i like to imagine there’s as many magics as there r ppl. some correlate, but it’s more common that two people will have differing magics than the same, and ofc, even if u get two with the same power, they’ve had different upbringings, so they’ll have different styles and flavor to them. someone who can summon and wield water could use it like a whip, while someone with the same power might summon water-constructs shaped like animals to attack. it’s all about training, and how creative they can get with it!! the more imagination u have, the stronger u are as a witch. witches can have more than one magic, but typically they’re born with one, and then train others under witches’ wings. (sometimes literally)

strumm’s base magic is creation. at its root, their magic can b used to create anything they can imagine. it’s really powerful, but has its setbacks. it takes a lot of focus, and concentration to make something complex. they don’t need to know exactly how things work to make them, but it goes a long way. I think people have a Base, and then their Spin on it. strumm’s Spin is mainly life, but also dreams. their ability to create is typically used to make their thoughts and dreams come to life; whether this be storms coming out of nowhere, candles popping up into existence, or giving ordinary things life. I think they made one of their blankets into a cat, and it eats yarn when it’s getting a little rough for wear to patch itself up. they made a bear for their friend joyce (who i’ll also talk about) that dispenses cough/cold medicine. it also works for situations, sometimes, and they can gently push fate into play. they were thinking of a song all day, and then heard it on the radio; or miss a person, and a few hours later, they run into them/get a message. little things like that. it’s an unreliable way of forecasting, and is a result of their imagination being pretty active. they can’t control it, and honestly they shouldn’t even be able to do these things with creation as their base, but it’s such a strong spin that they can. they can’t super control it yet tho, so it’s more of a subconscious thing when forecasting happens. 

shiver’s base is food control, and her spin is sweets, usually. she can cook really well, and hasn’t ever burnt anything, nor had it undercooked. if she wants to, she can create some foods, but the process can toy with her emotions, depending on what food. so, as a result, she usually sticks to chocolate, and desserts, bc they’re sweet, and that’s something she can live with being. she’s got thermal manipulation over any food she chooses, and can also dictate its form. so she could make a chocolate bar into a cup of hot cocoa if she wanted, and she usually does, bc it’s less work than dispensing it. she’s rly upbeat, comforting, and warm, and a bit of a mess. sometimes she withdraws for a few days to focus on her, and her friends r understanding of this. in dealing w others’ emotions, she tires herself out. she can move food around by concentrating on it, as a form of telekinesis. her favorite to move around is drinks!! they’re a lot of fun, and it’s good practice on maintaining diff forms w/o having to worry abt botching things up. 

joyce!!!! i’ve not thought abt her a lot yet, aside from a few traits, and appeance. they’re like the mom friend, and relentless abt teasing and “calling out” their friends, and joking. if anyone even hints toward being uncomf, she’ll stop immediately, tho. i think they use she/they bc i can’t decide on one. their base is weaponry, and their spin is stained glass and metals. there are many magics that can aid in fighting, and some witches will spar with each other regularly to hone their skills, and compete. joyce loves this. they can make any weapon they think of out of glass or metal, or a mix of the two. her favorite to use is stained glass, bc it’s pretty, and bc it’s a glass cannon!! it’s sharp as hell, and powerful, but breaks in one hit, but since they have manipulation of it, they can just reform it into a different weapon if they want!! the only requisite is that (for now) she has to be holding some of the original piece. so she’s got a pair of earrings that they never take off!! :~)) same goes for metal, but that’s a lot easier not to shatter. but just in case, they have some piercings from a big pole of stainless steel. they’re able to use other materials, but they’re rly protective, and choose to focus on these two. they could make a sword, and once it hits someone else’s weapon/construct, etc., change it into a ball and chain, and trap them. their fighting style is really fluid, as a result. they’re also vry strong bc they metalwork, and like the physical toll of it, and being a bit sore after a job well done, and it helps them wield heavier weapons.  

Are they native to the world/city/plane they live on?

i think there r different worlds, bc that’s so fun, and how could i not do smth space related,, it’s me. joyce is from another planet, pyrrh (like peerh), shiver and strumm live in the same town, but strumm is from a neighboring one. they don’t have guardians, so they take care of themselves. (houses dont cost money!!! in this world!! bc fuck that. there’s just an application process, and it’s all formality, like ok yeah, u want this house?? sure, sure, just dont break it, and also mail us smth once u get settled in ok to make sure ur livin there, so we dont repurpose it or anything) i’ll explore how they travel thru diff worlds at some point!! but atm i’m gonna have 2 think on it.

they all live on the same plane!! one where they can harness the inherent magic of existence to fit their own expressions, their own worlds. there r multiple planes, tho 

I assume they know each other or are related to each other, if they’re new at the same time – how do they know each other?

strumm met joye one rainy afternoon, as they were coming home from grocery shopping, and kept wishing they would get a ride from someone, and joyce, being the sweetheart that they r, had to save this poor thing from being soaked further than they were. strumm was trusting enough to get in their car, and joyce hasn’t left them alone since. gave them their number, name, and a charm to keep them safe, and went “this person is under my protection now, they’re entirely too kind, and i want to see them grow.” n they hit it off and became fast friends. every tuesday, they get coffee, and sometimes hold hands. there’s probably going to b a relationship between them?? but also, platonic handholding is important, and joyce does this with all her friends. joyce loves physical affection, and is a big (very buff) softie, n is expressive abt her feelings.

shiver and strumm r childhood friends!! they met in a park, and napped together when they were 5-6, and started hanging out and showing each other their magic, and bonded over being able to create things!! i think base magic manifests at a very early age, and is developed over the course of several years, and never rly stops growing. they like to eat blue foods together, and will bake all the time, it’s fun!! shiver has blue hair, and grey eyes like rain, and the warmest smile you’ll see. they’re pretty cold all the time, and love curling up under blankets, and will tend to cling to ppl if she’s comf w u. also affectionate, a bit quiet at first, but once she knows u, she’ll go on n on abt life w u, and talk til she’s blue

shiver and joyce met each other thru strumm!! they’re friends, and will talk every so often, but hang out less than they each do w strumm, but they’re getting there!! they’ve had a few sleepovers, n r comf enough to sleep all over each other, n cuddle and watch movies!! im making this a vry affectionate world bc i don’t see enough of it, and i’m going 2 make it more prevalent!!!! joyce made a ceramic mug for shiver as a witching day present once, and it gets a lot of use, it’s shiver’s fav thing that they own. 

witching day is a holiday where u use ur abilities to make gifts for ur loved ones, n spend time w them!! there’s also competitions for fun, and matches that u can fight in, and it’s like a big fair, and everyone gets a paid weekend off. 

this was incredibly helpful in shaping the world a bit, thank u for asking!!! i super appreciate it!! lmk if u have any followups 

[gringoslur]

Hi you're one of my fav blogs (I wish I could talk to you in Spanish but I'm from Brazil and unfortunately we only learn English at school). Anyway, I'm here bc I need help with a playlist and you're the first person I could think of. I want some Latino songs about LatAm, but idk much of other countries' music, so I thought maybe you/your followers could help? I want songs that talk about being Latine, how usa imperialism sucks, etc. I can send u what I already have so u can see what I mean! Thx

Don’t worry! I have brazilian friends and we mix english, spanish and portuguese lkjfg. Yeah, send me what you got! i can give you some songs right now, putting some parts that i love:

Latinoamerica by Calle 13 (Puerto Rico, Colombia, Perú, Brasil): i feel like you already have this in your list, because is our anthem at this point. It’s a song about latinoamérica and what they did here (the video has subtitles) / I work hard but with pride. Here we share, what’s mine is yours. This nation doesn’t drown with the waves. And if it collapses I rebuild it. I don’t even blink when I look at you, so you’ll remember my last name. Operation Condor invading my nest, I forgive but never forget!”

Memoria by León Gieco (Argentina): a song in memory of the dictatorships of Operación Condór (they had the help of US) + in memory of the terrorist attacks here (in the Argentine Israelite Mutual Association building) (the video has subtitles) / Two thousand would eat for a yearwith what a military minute costs. How many would stop being slavesfor the price of a bomb thrown to the sea? / Memory aims until it killsthe people who try to silence it and don’t let it fly free like the wind.

Frijolero by Motolov (México) / video with english subtitles: a big fuck you to US from México in 2009, even before Trump. I love this song / “Now why don’t you look down to where your feet is planted. That U.S soil that makes you take shit for granted. If not for Santa Ana, just to let you know that where your feet are planted would be México”

El mojado by Ricardo Arjona / lyrics in english (Guatemala): song for inmigrants. “He said goodbye with a grimace disguised as a smile and he asked God -crucified on a shelf- to protect his people, and he crossed the border as he could / Wet.back, wet of so much crying, knowing that in some place a kiss awaits him on hold since the day he left”

Multi_viral by Calle 13 (Puerto Rico): song of protest / The one who controls, the one who dictates, wants to get you sick to sell you drugs. / A piece of news not well told is an assault with a weapon /Our ideas are free and they are awake because we think with the doors wide open. What is not seen, we are seeing. We are born without knowing how to talk, ut we will die talking out loud.

Canción con todos by Mercedes Sosa / lyrics in english (Argentina): a song for latinoamericanes / All the voices, all. All the hands, all. All the blood can be song in the wind. Sing with me, sing…american brother, set free your hope with a cry in your voice. 

Rubén Rada (Uruguay): this list is looking to sad/dark, so let’s bring some latinidad with this amazing afrolatine artist. here: cha cha, muchacha / muriendo de plena / candombe para Gardel 

Gringo maligno by Todos Tus Muertos (Argentina):  Regan, Clinton Bush, Regan, everyone is the same / evil gringo, sent by Satan ccupying and blocking, imposing your plan.

La patria madrina by Lila Downs and Juanes (México and Colombia): protest song agaisnt capitalism, agaisnt the violent kidnapping and killing of 43 students of Ayotzinapa, agaisnt the destruction of the earth / Everybody wants a share of the oil, you see? and to burn Mother Earth with urgency to make more cars, to make more money, as if you could buy happiness. 

Por si acaso no regreso by Celia Cruz (Cuba): a song dedicated to Cuba, her homeland /  Home, do not suffer. Heart, do not break. Because badness can’t last 100 years nor could any body and I never wanted to abandon you. I’ve taken you with every step and my heart will remain for eternity as a flower on your lap just in case……just in case I don’t return / In the case I don’t return, if I don’t return, remember: I loved her with my life. In the case I don’t return, I will die from pain…I’m already dying.

Los americanos by Piero (Argentina) / lyrics in english: with an ironic/sarcastic tone, he makes fun of gringxs. Every part of this song is gold. / They are born elderly and gradually become kids, throughout the lifetime of “los americanos”. And they are born convinced that there is nobody in the world more important than “los americanos” / Napoleon for them was an Italian gentleman who organized everything without “los americanos”. And they are more than sure that he wouldn’t have lost Waterloo with the help of “los americanos”. If they know anything about history, it’s not from reading it but from seeing it in the “cine americano” / If there’s something to be admired, wherever they go, it’s the grand elegance of “los americanos”. wearing native dress, they mix in with the people, and nobody realizes that they are “americanos”.

“Murciélago” by Porter: about the colonization of natives /  The elders saw them. They do not come in peace, we hear screams. There have three ships, they bring Cristo. 

La Gozadera by Gente de Zona and Marc Anthony (Cuba and Puerto Rico): a really cool song about latinidad. / If you are Latino, take out your flag!

Guerra by Calle 13: anti-war song. they talk about US, wars and refugees. just. please watch this video. it has english subtitles./  I am your defeat, your two broken legs. The nail in your foot which pierced through the boot. I am the strategy in any battle. Today you either win or lose, I am the sorrows of your joys. The war by night and the war by day.

Pégate by Ricky Martin: let’s end this in a happy song, 100% latine with my father Ricky / I come with good stuff for my people, I bring love, I bring this remedy which cheers up the hearts of the entire world. For the pain, for the heartaches. There’s nothing better than the rhythm of my drums / And let rivers of goodness flow to all the people of the world. Because we can’t forget that pure love liberates and lies are poison. As my mother used to say: dancing you can solve anything.

I’m tagging some of the latines that i know, if they want to add any song, please do it! @dasakuryo @the-mighty-microwave @targannington @alteanwitch @koganer @voltronless @bitcherovas @ceibos @duskianfae @im-not-a-real-hero @trashsenal @dixonette1013 @latinxlance @cherry-cokes @lancesazul @freckledai @pamelas​ @elbiotipo guys u are like a bunch of people lkfjg i’m sorry if i forgot anyone!!! a lot of people and a bad memory, not a good mix. 

[odogaronfang]

If it hasn’t already been done yet, could you write something with red in your Breath of the Wild au? I just love their designs and what I’ve read so far from it.

[[thank u so much!! botw au is my pride and joy along with my other 1000 aus! ‘something with red’ is very vague so i will just… throw words at the doc and see what sticks

post-writing edit: oops it became a little bit of red’s backstory]]

Hateno is a much different place from Hebra.

The little house nestled up by Hebra Headspring, that was where Red had been born, and that’s where he was raised, by his older sister and, for a time, their mother. He’d learned how to survive in a place as harsh as the high-altitude Hebra region, how to light fires off damp wood, how to fish in half-frozen waters, how to survive avalanches, how to cultivate crops even in below-zero temperatures. He learned how to plant windshields around buildings, like the ring of pines that protected their home, how to seal off windows and cracks in the walls that let precious heat escape. How to hunt in snow, how to track during blizzards, how to walk in waist-deep slush without sinking in, how to make cold-proof clothes. The most fun of it all was learning to snow surf.

He lived in the snow and the cold and he learned to thrive in it, came to love every second of it, even when it finally took his mother, weak from childbirth and the rigor of life in the climate, carried on to the afterlife by a common illness. That was when his sister, his favorite woman left to him, decided to enlist the help of a kindly Rito, and pack up and leave to someplace easier. The Rito, he’d known them since they were children, had offered them advice on where to go and how to get there, what to bring and what to do once they’d arrived. Sweet guy, he’d even gone with them to help, borrowed them a horse and helped them pack, had given them money under the the pretense that he was purchasing their cabin. Red didn’t remember him very well, after all the time that’d passed without seeing one another- he just remembered dark feathers and a big, big bow at his back.

They’d gone to Hateno, without a map but with travelers’ directions and the Rito’s birds-eye view (what was his name?). He vividly remembered freaking out at the field of deactivated Guardians that lay scattered around Blatchery Plain. Zelda had sat him on the horse, instructed him to cover his eyes, and the Rito had personally checked each before they proceeded, told him he’d feel better once they’d gotten on the other side of the Fort Hateno wall. He did- they found a cookpot, and a generous researcher willing to lend them his cabin for a night, while he went out to the field to collect data. It had taken another two days from there to reach the town itself, going as slow as they were, but they got there fine, secured a small house with the money the Rito had given them for their old one, and Zelda took up odd jobs to keep them fed while they settled.

Nothing that Red had learned in Hebra helped him in Hateno. The climate was different, their surroundings were different, the crops and wildlife were different, the clothes were different, the people were different. It meant relearning his entire life. And he did; slowly at first, but then he took to it quickly, and found himself enjoying the more easygoing style of life there. They were enclosed by cliffs, in a partial rain shadow from Mount Lanayru, but they got the water they needed from the ponds and the lakes, and got a healthy amount of fish from the bays, when the monsters weren’t overwhelming it.

Their winters were so mild, hardly dipping below ten degrees, never much snow, always a tepid breeze drifting up from Kitano Bay. He’d sit outside and do his work, or just be out to enjoy the weather, and laugh when Hateno’s natives came outside bundled in layers and shivering.

Hateno became a second home to him, and its residents a second family; they were always checking in with the two Hebran orphan siblings, inviting them over for holidays and celebrations. When another newcomer moved in, bought the house overlooking Firly Pond, he showed him around and gave him the same welcome he’d received as a child, and they became friends quickly, and Red learned a lot from him.

But Hebra was his first home, his home home, and he wanted very badly to go back. Maybe not stay- Hateno was his second home, now, after all- but he wanted to go back. To see his old house, to visit the stablehands at Rito stable, to snow surf properly; and, mostly, to find that Rito. Zelda’s memory had slipped, too, and he couldn’t blame her. Eleven years wore away at the little details like that. But he really wanted to find him. He’d been a friend, and Red could say honestly that he missed him.