#MY FAVORITE LINE USED AGAINST ME BRO.........

[aziraphaleswings]

[ID: Image 1 is a gif of Aziraphale in season 1, teary-eyed, gently saying "I forgive you" to Crowley. Image 2 is a gif of Aziraphale in season 2, distraught, saying "I forgive you" with a much harsher, upset expression. End ID.]

(gifs by @maria7potter and @wibblyowzah respectively)

yeah i am never ever ever ever going to fucking recover from this

[lord-squiggletits]

Ahhhhh I really didn't imagine it, I still dislike Barber's way of writing Orion/Optimus just as much as I did on the first reading and all it took was rereading a few screencaps from one specific scene.

Literally I don't know which part annoys me more: Jetfire existing in the background solely to go "ORION PAX FUCKING SUCKS AND IS A HYPOCRITE", Orion being written like an edgy asshole who hates everyone, or Soundwave talking like an unhinged terrorist and the narrative expecting me to see Orion as the hypocrite for using violence to arrest terrorists.

Soundwave is seriously like "You have no proof we assassinated the Senate, but if we did assassinate the Senate it would've been justified, but also totally trust us bro, just because we could've hypothetically murdered the entire reigning government doesn't mean that we're violent bro come on just bc we assassinated-- I mean could have hypothetically had the means and cause to kill like a hundred people doesn't mean we were gonna kill anyone else, come on bro why are you calling us violent just bc we think some murder is okay" while Jetfire is in the background like "WOW ORION I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE WILLING TO BE VIOLENT IN RESPONSE TO OTHER PEOPLE BEING VIOLENT. YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR OWN SIDE'S FLAWS EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE LITERALLY DOING AN INVESTIGATION TO DECIDE WHETHER ONE OF YOUR COPS COMMITTED AN UNJUSTIFIED KILLING OR NOT. YOU HAVE DONE LITERALLY NOTHING TO TRY AND FIGHT THE CORRUPTION IN SOCIETY." (Jetfire had no way of knowing about OP and crew fighting the Senate's schemes in Shadowplay and Elegant Chaos, but as a reader it's very frustrating seeing Orion getting lambasted as never having done anything to fight society's corruption when he literally did, and by the time he was even working for Zeta Megatron was already evil and had the whole Senate assassinated.)

Like ughhhh oh my god I could have maybe enjoyed this story under a better writer but as it's written it's some "yet you participate in society, curious" levels of political commentary where at least one character seemingly only exists in the scene to shit on OP (something that happens a lot in Barber's works, like with Pyra Magna and Slide) and where OP is framed as a hypocritical asshole for a reaction that's very understandable given the context.

And also it's weird because Barber wants so badly for you to read Orion as some sort of hypocrite for being against terrorist activities but being willing to employ violence himself to arrest terrorists, yet... it turns out the big twist of the story is that the Decepticons WERE smuggling weapons and Soundwave DID lie to Orion (even if it was unintentionally), thus vindicating Orion's entire distrustful attitude? Like, it seems as if it was supposed to be an ACAB story showing how evil the police are for killing people and how Orion (as a cop) is evil for being a cop that uses violence on behalf of the state. Except uh. Then Barber wrote a plot where the Decepticons literally were smuggling weapons all along (and this is alongside lore from Megatron: Origin where we as the readers know for a fact the Decepticons/Starscream killed the Senate) so.... Like, it just seems to me that if Barber wanted to write an ACAB story about how the state monopoly on violence is bad, he probably shouldn't have written the Decepticons as actually being terrorists who literally did lie about smuggling weapons?

I feel like a better way to write an ACAB/anti-state-monopoly-on-violence would've been to like, explore the way that states take advantage of catastrophe/using scapegoat political movements to gather more power to themselves and justify removing citizens' rights with "it's an emergency, we're taking away your freedoms to protect everyone." Like, maybe Zeta passes some law saying that officers can search citizens without a warrant, which he justifies with the fact that Decepticon terrorism is so rampant that officers need immediate permission to conduct raids/searches. Except this is obviously a problem because people have a right to privacy, and probably the cops are super overzealous and end up arresting innocent people without cause (like idk, maybe just being friends with someone who is sympathetic to the Decepticons gets someone landed in jail? Maybe Jetfire gets arrested bc he's critical of the state and has hung out with Decepticon sympathizers before). So then Orion has an actual "are we the baddies?" moment where he wants to stop the bad people, but he realizes that his side are infringing on people's citizens and justifying police brutality for the sake of a nebulous "greater good," and that even though he and his cops were given greater power to supposedly "protect citizens," in practice they're actually doing great harm to citizens by invading their privacy, creating a surveillance state, and imprisoning people without just cause? Basically "we were given this power to stop terrorists from hurting civilians, but now we're hurting civilians too so are we actually doing any good?" Because that way Orion and his cops would ACTUALLY be in the wrong and their state monopoly on violence would be an actually widespread institutional thing where they're clearly being allowed to do bad things just because they're cops. Not just Orion investigating one singular police killing.

But with the story written as "Orion suspected the Decepticons of murdering the Senate (he's correct about this) but still investigated one of his officers to see if he committed a wrongful murder (literally him paying attention to his own side's wrongdoings, Jetfire), and it turns out the Decepticons WERE smuggling weapons and doing terrorism (Orion was correct about this)" it's just.......... like, Orion may not be morally correct, but his hunches/investigations about the suspected criminal activity were literally correct. AND HE WAS WILLING TO DO THIS INVESTIGATION IN THE FIRST PLACE. But for some reason he's still framed as if he's an asshole for this? Even though this is a point in the pre-war lore where Megatron won't back down from violence and has lost his way from his original pure intentions, so it's not like Orion can just go "let's put down our weapons and be friends and mutually trust each other to not stab each other in the back."

It just feels as if Barber's intentions to write an ACAB story where Orion is framed as being too judgmental and quick to be violent don't line up with the actual events of the story. The story is desperately trying to call Orion a hypocrite, but he really just seems as if he's reacting understandably to the events that are happening around him, so there's a real dissonance here where I don't understand why the ACAB story had the cops be right about the Decepticons committing terrorism, and I'm also supposed to see Orion as an asshole for correctly not trusting the Decepticons???

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[digi-diareis]

Teen MC snapping at Caleb

Context: Yk how when you're teenagers, guys think the only way to flirt with the person they like is by teasing them? Well, imagine if Caleb had an era like this until it went too far and mc finally snapped at him.

Beware: this is gonna be SO BAD. im not a writer at all and english isn't my first language either. its just that i've had this scenario in my head for a few days now and i needed it out of my system. Also, I decided to use they/them pronouns for mc. So its more inclusive that way and also bcs even I personally don't always refer to my mc as she/her. So yeah, for the bitches, bros and non binary hoes.

Imagine this, Caleb and you bantering like usual on your way home but you're having an off day which makes it easier for you to get pissed off and fed up with all the teasing. Unfortunately, Caleb doesn't notice this and keeps teasing you until you just snap.

So mc, exasperated, scoffs at him and turns around to leave with their arms folded across their chest and eyebrows scrunched so hard they almost look like a unibrow.

"I'm done talking you. Go find someone else to pick on, Caleb. I'm not in the mood."

Sensing the sudden shift of mood, Caleb is speechless for a bit and left floundering, looking for the right words to say. He thought this was just your usual banter so why were you suddenly taking the jokes seriously? Hell, he can't let you stay in a bad mood for the entire day because that means he's getting the silent treatment and he'd rather die (well not really but he almost feels like it) than have you completely ignore his entire existence. Again.

He approaches you slowly, using a gentle voice to not alarm you the same way one would with a hissing kitten.

"Pipsqueak? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry... Tell me what it was and I promise I won't say it again. Don't be mad anymore, we don't want you to develop any more wrinkles, do we?"

And oh, the way you stiffened up, very much reminiscent of a stray cat on full alarm against anybody trying to steal its food. Caleb gulps, knowing somewhere along the lines, he triggered a tripwire and a bomb's about to blow.

"Uhm! You know what, nevermind me! How about we go buy your favorite snack? Oh, what a coincidence your favorite stall is right around the corner-"

You turn around with a glare that makes him immediately shut up, looking like you're about to rip him a new one.

"WRINKLES?! First, you make fun of my height. Calling me pipsqueak around everyone and never shutting your damn mouth about how not a day has passed where I was taller than you. Then you start being weirdly aggressive towards my other guy friends, which by the way, what the fuck? Now most of them won't even talk to me anymore! What is your problem?! And now, you're calling me OLD and UGLY?!"

"I-I never said -"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, Caleb! You have been getting on my nerves lately! I've been trying to convince myself that this is all just friendly banter but sometimes, you go too far that I don't even know if I can still laugh it off! We used to be best friends but now, its so easy for you to make fun of me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve this but oh my god, if you hate me this much then just stop hanging around me!"

Mc is heaving by the end of their entire speech, extremely worked up and upset that they're red in the face. They had been bottling this up for the past few weeks so letting it out almost felt cathartic.

Caleb is stuck in place, throat dry and mouth open but words won't come out. Was that how it's been like for you? Had he taken the jokes too far recently? Maybe it was wrong to listen to the other guys in his class who said that teens tend to fall for guys who act terrible, the bad boy stereotype is popular nowadays.

He looks down, feeling guilty and pathetic that he ended up making you feel like you hated him when you were the person who embodied everything he loved. You made him feel like flying and falling, all at the same time. So how could he hurt you like this? He had to make things right before it was too late.

"I'm sorry. Its all my fault. I shouldn't have said all those hurtful things to you, even if it was a joke or not. At the end of the day, they hurt you and that's not right. Please believe me when I say that I could never hate being around you. That couldn't be more wrong, not when all I ever want to do is be by your side. So please don't tell me to stop hanging around you, just thinking about it feels like my chest is being squeezed that it hurts. I promise I won't make the same mistakes again, so please forgive me?"

He's nervous, fiddling with his hands while he looks you in the eye. He reminds you of a wet puppy under the rain, begging you to bring him home with you. You knew the moment he pulled those puppy dog eyes that you would eventually lose, you could never say no to him. Not when you were kids and not now.

You sigh, shoulders slumping and the frown gone from your face. Now you just look tired, which only makes him more worried, maybe you're tired of him? No, that can't be. What would happen to him if you decide he's not worth keeping around anymore? He just might stop functioning all together.

You turn your back and start walking home, he feels his heart drop thinking this is it. You're leaving him behind– that is until you turn your head to the side, side eyeing him with a blush on your face.

"What're you standing there for, I thought you were going to buy me my favorite snack? Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not forgiving you just yet. Not until I've had my fill."

After that day, Caleb completely changes. Or maybe its more accurate to say he reverted back to how he used to be when you guys were kids. Doting, attentive and extremely supportive. He still banters with you from time to time but he never goes out of his way to start one. Although, there is one thing that doesn't change and that's how over protective he still is, he's still acting like a guard dog and being threatening towards all the guys in your class but at this point, you're just happy to have your best friend back again.

And just like that, Caleb's popularity spikes in your class because suddenly, every girl wants a guy who comes at their beck and call and attends to their needs. No more bad boy persona for them, they just want someone who worships the ground they walk on the same way Caleb does for you.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: “The Tru Fru Tragedy”

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Rating: Teen

Warning: mentions of monthly periods, theft, Paige not getting called any pet names.., Kayla helping you get your lick back...

Word Count: 1,245

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Summary: you carefully stocked up on all your favorite period snacks—especially Tru Fru—only to wake up and find them gone. The culprits? Paige and KK....

Everything was fine when I went to sleep.

I had my heating pad, my favorite blanket, and—most importantly—my fully stocked snack stash, featuring multiple bags of Tru Fru and the holy grail: Tru Fru ice cream.

I had prepared so well for this period.

Then I woke up.

And my world came crashing down.

I stretched, reaching for my phone to check the time. Paige and KK had left for their pre-game lunch, but that wasn’t my concern right now. No, my immediate mission was to retrieve my Tru Fru and binge some trashy reality TV before heading to their game.

I padded over to my mini fridge, humming to myself as I pulled the door open—

Nothing.

I blinked. Shut the fridge. Opened it again.

Still nothing.

My gaze snapped to the snack drawer. I yanked it open.

Empty.

Oh. Hell. No.

By the time Paige and KK got back, I was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, fuming.

Paige walked in first, grinning. “Hey, babe, you ready to—”

“Paige. Madison. Bueckers.”

The way her smile instantly dropped? Satisfying.

KK, the second culprit, peeked over Paige’s shoulder, immediately sensing the tension. “Uh… what’s going on?”

I stood up slowly, tilting my head. “Where. Is. My. Tru Fru?”

Paige and KK exchanged a look. Paige tried a smile, rubbing the back of her neck. “Okay, so—”

“You ate them, didn’t you?”

Paige winced. “Not all of them…”

KK, not reading the room at all, shrugged. “To be fair, they were really good.”

I turned my glare to her. “Oh, to be fair? You raided my stash while I was asleep.”

Paige took a step closer, hands raised in surrender. “Babe, ma, I didn’t think you’d be that mad—”

I held up a finger. “Don’t. ‘Babe’ or 'ma' me. You and your little accomplice are dead to me.”

KK’s eyes widened. “Whoa, whoa. Let’s not get crazy—”

I looked Paige directly in the eyes. “I hope Kayla braids your hair extra tight today.”

Paige gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” I pulled out my phone and texted Kayla right in front of them. Make Paige’s braids extra tight today. She wronged me.

Kayla’s response was almost immediate. Bet.

Paige groaned, running a hand down her face. KK was already halfway out the door. “I want no part in this anymore.”

I folded my arms. “Too late. Kamorea you’re both paying me back in full after the game.”

Paige sighed, stepping closer again. “Baby, please—”

I turned away dramatically. “Don’t ‘baby’ me, Madison.”

Paige let out a loud groan. “You’re really mad.”

“No duh.”

True to my word, I ignored Paige all through pre-game.

I sat courtside, arms crossed, eyes on the court but refusing to acknowledge her existence. Even when she made a huge three-pointer, I only clapped politely.

KK, from across the bench, was dying. She kept elbowing Paige, whispering, “She’s really not looking at you, bro.”

Even Azzi noticed, leaning in to ask, “What did you do, Paige?”

Paige just groaned. “Ate her Tru Fru.”

Azzi stared at her like she had lost her mind. “You deserve this.”

After UConn won, Paige and KK were still on thin ice.

As soon as they found me outside the locker room, Paige wrapped her arms around me, resting her forehead against mine. “You have to forgive me now. We won, and i think Kay pushed my hair line back more than it's already goin.”

I kept my arms at my sides. “Oh, so you win and suddenly I’m supposed to forget about my suffering?”

KK threw her hands up. “Okay, fine! We’ll go get more Tru Fru! Just—please stop torturing us.”

I eyed them both. “…You promise?”

Paige nodded. “Whatever you want, baby. Just stop calling me Madison.”

I huffed. “Fine. But I’m coming with you to supervise.”

Half an hour later, we were back at my apartment, my snack stash restored.

Paige, now finally allowed back into my good graces, sat on the couch, pulling me into her lap. “So we’re good now?”

I hummed, pretending to think. “Almost.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “How about now?”

I sighed dramatically. “I guess I can forgive you.”

KK groaned from across the room. “Thank God.”

I turned to Paige. “Say it.”

She blinked. “Say what?”

I smirked. “Say I was right.”

Paige groaned, but the small smile on her face betrayed her. “You were right.”

I beamed. “Thank you. Now we’re good.”

Paige chuckled, tucking me closer. “Ma, you’re so lucky I love you.”

I smirked. “No, you’re lucky, I put up with your goofy shit.”

She kissed my forehead, smiling against my skin. “Yeah, I really am, now please help a girl out. My head hurts.”

I rolled my eyes and gently ran my fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp. "So ladies what have we learned." I say looking at both girls.

"Don't touch your Tru Fru." They day in unison with a pout in their face, before kk adds "at least without asking, first."

I rolled my eyes "Yeah at least without asking first."

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[leafostuff]

5 out of 5 Customer service [Ft. Lightsum's Nayoung]

Author note: a super fast quickie until i either post another quickie, or whenever i will eventually start working on a longfic, whatever comes first.

Fuck Nayoung is too hot

P.S; i am sorry for the puns

=================================

Let's be clear about something; This will probably wont be your proudest moment.

"Dude just do it, what's the worst that can happen?"

"She calls me a creep and kicks us out of the diner?, thought about that dumbass?" You ask, how are you even friends with those idiots again?

"Come on bro, have fun now, cringe later, and laugh about it even later" your other friend chimes in.

"He's right, if they throw us out, then next time i pay for your entire meal, deal?" Your fourth friend joins the conversation, he knows your weaknesses, so with a deep sigh you shake hands with him, just hoping to get this shit over with

And right on time, the barista comes to your table, a cute pink apron, blonde hair tied to a neat bun on top of her head and a joyful smile that adds to her character, "hey guys, welcome to 'Light sum pancakes', what do you want to order this morning?".

A light smack to your waist by the friend sitting near you, they all wait for this cheesy pick up line, and you've been quiet for too long so backing out is stupid.

Have fun now, cringe later they said, what the hell can go wrong?

"Actually..." A small gulp, "i would like to order you".

If it wasn't for the busy crowd around, you could've heard your friends giggling like crazy about this so-called 'prank', just hope the other customers are not looking at your table, having a free show of a college student making a fool himself at 9:AM.

The barista simply just eyes you up and down, her smile doesnt seem to leave her face when she scans to see any hint of awkwardness in your body and in the end she just replies with a nonchelant.

"Okay"

----------------------------------------------------

Update: it seems like the 'cringe later' part of the process does not seem to be anywhere close.

Her hair is still in the same bun as before, her clothes are now off her body, thrown somewhere on the toilet's (probably) dirty floor, and her smile? now turned into red-covered lips moving back and fourth from the base of your cock all the way to your tip, giving an teasing kiss, a playful and then - she goes back to her pace.

She's insane, you think to yourself, though you will admit that its not really the bad type of insane. Not even 5 minutes have passed and she is already taking your length entirely in her mouth, meanwhile her hands go off from your lap grabbing both of them and placing them on the back of her head, as if she trying to signal you to push her deeper.

She knows you are close, there's no way she doesn't.

Its even worse when she lets her tongue play with your balls, licking around like its her favorite candy while she looks directly at you with a sweet, innocent look, as if she's trying to say to you telepathically 'i know you want it, i know you want to fill this adorable little mouth'.

And eventually, you do

Cum quickly moves up into her mouth, river after river after river of the white, sticky fluid erupts without any form of control from you. Its cursed how she happily accepts it into her mouth, even adding a slurping motion to make your release more efficient to her, and even more pleasuring to you.

"Fuck, this was hot" she says in a casual tone, as if she didn't basically deepthroated you against the wall just now. she rises up to face you, hands swiping up any remains of cum left on her cheeks and beads of sweat that move slowly on her neck down to her collarbone, meanwhile you are still a panting mess, struggling to collect your breath.

She laughs at your situation. "What, don't tell me you already spent, my job states i can't leave any customer...unsatisfied~" she heads over even closer than before, her naked chest pushed over your chest while two fingers playfully move around your dick, quickly getting it once again hard and ready.

A cheeky giggle, "THAT's what i like to see in the morning, so what would like to order today?" she asks, looking directly at your eyes with a wink, however you cant muster up a response before she continues. "Do you want some ASS-cakes for a light meal?" she quickly turns around, having her butt wiggle dangerously close to your dick, looking behind to see your reaction.

"Or maybe...a Heavy meal of some Tit-burgers would be great to feast on?" another spin, now facing your with her hands on yours, taking them to each one of her mounds, prompting you to give a light squeeze. you can feel how it gets her tensed up, excited even to see how her 'shift' is gonna feel like, but she is not done.

"Or maybe..." she now lightly shoves you into one of the toilet stalls, quickly joining you while she locks the door behind her and straddles your lap, your dick inches apart from her pussy as she gives you a wink. "...your little customer would like its meal of its own?"

I think its safe to say it now gotten to the part where you will laugh about it way, way later.

[heliosunny]

I read the yandere! Streamer jing yuan and saw there's a yandere! Streamer Sunday.. was wondering if you would do a yandere! Streamer Aventurine, too please?

Yandere!Streamer Aventurine x Reader

Aventurine was obsessed. Not just with the game, Eclipsed Fates: Arcane Romance, but specifically with you.

And as a high-profile streamer, he made no secret of it.

"Alright, chat, you already know the drill." His voice oozed confidence as he lounged in his high-end gaming chair, adjusting his headset. "Tonight, we're doing another playthrough of Y/N’s route. Yeah, yeah, I know I’ve already maxed out their affection a dozen times, but let me have this. They’re the only one worthy of my time, after all."

The chat exploded.

"Bro is down BAD." "Another [Y/N] simp stream, let's gooo." "At this point, just marry your screen."

He smirked, barely glancing at the comments. His fingers danced across the keyboard as he navigated the dialogue choices, always picking the options that would make you smile—or, at the very least, smirk approvingly.

"This is it, chat. My favorite part. The moment Y/N finally acknowledges that they’re mine."

And then—

A flicker of the screen.

Aventurine barely had time to react before his entire setup exploded in a burst of light.

When he opened his eyes, sitting across from him, staring in confusion, was—

You.

Aventurine was used to getting what he wanted.

So when he found himself inside the game world, in a lavish office lined with scrolls and golden embellishments, draped in the elegant robes of a high-ranking noble… well.

This was even better.

"Marquis Aventurine, are you feeling unwell?"

He let out a breathless chuckle, rolling his gloved fingers against the polished surface of his desk. "Marquis, huh?" His gaze flicked over the surroundings, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "So that's the role I've been given."

He tilted his head, feigning curiosity. "And what is our relationship, exactly?"

Your eyes narrowed. "You don’t remember?"

You exhaled, rubbing your temple, frustration bleeding into your otherwise composed features. "You oversee imperial intelligence. I report directly to you."

"I see. And tell me— Do you admire me?"

Your brows knit together. "Respect and admiration are not the same thing, my lord."

So even here, even when he outranked you, you still had that pride.

"You really haven’t changed at all." he murmured, mostly to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing." His grin was dazzling. "Let’s get along from now on, shall we?"

Aventurine was a fast learner.

It was a necessity in his line of work—reading opponents, analyzing patterns, knowing exactly what buttons to push to get what he wanted.

But today?

Today was an absolute disaster.

His first mistake? Assuming he could navigate the world like a normal person.

After your meeting in his grand office, he had confidently strolled out, intending to get a feel for the empire. He had expected the typical game mechanics—click on NPCs, gather intel, maybe a quest or two.

Instead, the entire day glitched past him in a blur.

One second, he was observing the bustling courtyards, taking in the regal architecture—

The next?

It was nighttime.

Aventurine stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the dark sky, his breath catching slightly. What? He swore he had only blinked. The sun had been right there.

The palace halls, once lively with officials and servants, were now eerily quiet. And worse—

He was no longer in the palace.

The dim glow of lanterns flickered around him, the scent of expensive liquor and the soft shuffle of cards filling the air. He was inside a hidden gambling den, tucked away in what was likely the empire’s underground elite circles.

What the hell?

There was no logical transition. No sense of time passing. It was as if the game had just… skipped ahead.

Was this a bug? A glitch in the system?

"Well… this is interesting."

Still, if the game had dropped him here, there had to be a reason.

He adjusted the elegant cuffs of his robe, taking in the lavish surroundings. Wealthy nobles and shadowy figures whispered behind ivory masks, placing bets in hushed tones. Gambling, huh?

If he wanted to understand his new identity, he needed information.

Aventurine stepped into a quieter corner and whispered:

"System, show character profile."

[Character Profile: Aventurine] Title: Imperial Spymaster | Noble of High Status Skills: Espionage | Strategy | Deception | High-Stakes Gambling (???) Reputation: Unpredictable | Charismatic | ??? Relationships: — [Y/N]: Imperial Strategist (Loyalty: 70, Favorability: ???) — Emperor: Trusted (Barely) — Nobles: Feared & Respected — Underground Circles: VIP Access

Aventurine’s gaze sharpened.

The gambling skill. The VIP access. The way he had been teleported here. Was this something his character did every night? Some hidden mechanic the players never had access to?

And—wait.

[Y/N]: Loyalty 70, Favorability: ???

"Question marks?" Aventurine narrowed his eyes. Favorability should have been a number. It was a trackable stat in the game. But here? It was unreadable.

If the system wouldn’t give him a number, he’d just have to measure it himself.

The system was glitchy. The world wasn’t following normal rules. And his role was clearly more complex than he had anticipated.

But none of that mattered.

Because at the end of the day, this was still his game.

Aventurine had seen countless playthroughs of your character’s story. The brilliant strategist. The one who climbed to power with nothing but sheer intelligence and determination. The one who stood among nobles despite coming from a civilian background.

It was one of the things that fascinated him about you.

So when he saw you surrounded by sneering nobles in the palace courtyard, your jaw set with defiance despite their mocking words—

Oh, he did not like that.

"You really think you belong here?" A young nobleman scoffed, flicking his fan open with a dramatic flair. "You may be the empire’s strategist, but that doesn’t change what you are."

"Indeed. No amount of clever words can change your birthright, can it?"

Their words were sharp, but you stood your ground. You always did.

"If birth determined one’s worth, then surely you wouldn’t need to insult me to feel superior."

"You should watch that tongue of yours, commoner. It would be unfortunate if someone decided they didn’t like your presence in the court."

Before they could take another step—

A hand landed on the noble’s shoulder.

"Oh? That’s quite the statement. I’d love to hear what gives you the right to decide who belongs here."

"M-Marquis—"

"That’s Lord Aventurine to you," he corrected, "And, as far as I recall, our dear strategist holds one of the highest positions in the empire. Are you suggesting the emperor himself made a mistake in appointing them?"

The nobles exchanged uneasy glances.

Aventurine chuckled, finally releasing his grip. "Ah, but perhaps I misheard. Surely, you wouldn’t be so foolish as to question imperial authority, hmm?"

"O-Of course not, my lord."

"Good. Then I suggest you walk away. Before I decide to start questioning your worth."

They scrambled to leave, their arrogance crumbling in an instant.

Aventurine turned to you, amusement dancing in his gaze.

"That was unnecessary."

He tilted his head. "Was it? I rather enjoyed it."

"I didn’t need your help."

"I know. But it was fun, wasn’t it? Watching them squirm?"

"You enjoy playing with people, don’t you?"

"Only when they’re unworthy."

----

Aventurine was used to being adored.

His viewers, his chat, the characters in the game—he had always known how to manipulate favorability. Charm was second nature to him.

So when he checked his system later that night and saw—

[Favorability Update: -5]

—he nearly dropped his glass of wine.

"Minus?"

Aventurine scoffed, setting the glass down with a sharp clink against the desk. His eyes narrowed at the glowing screen, as if sheer force of will could make the number go back up.

"This is ridiculous. I defended them. Put those arrogant nobles in their place. That should’ve gained me points, not lost them."

What went wrong?

Aventurine sighed, leaning back in his chair. It was late. The oil lamp flickered beside him, casting warm shadows against the towering bookshelves of his study. He had been trying to piece together the logic of this world, but his thoughts kept circling back to you.

What do I need to do to make you mine?

The exhaustion of the day crept up on him, and before he realized it—his eyes shut.

You weren’t expecting him to be asleep.

When you stepped into his study, documents in hand, you had fully anticipated the usual: a smug remark, a lazy smirk, some infuriatingly smooth comment meant to test your patience.

Instead, you found him slumped over his desk, deep in sleep.

For a moment, you hesitated.

This was Marquis Aventurine. The man with the sharpest tongue in the court. The one who was unpredictable, charming, and entirely too pleased with himself.

But right now, the soft glow of the oil lamp made his features appear less sharp, more peaceful. His hand was still lightly curled around a quill, as if he had dozed off mid-thought.

It would be very easy to just leave him like this.

And yet— Before you could talk yourself out of it, you moved closer, carefully draping a thick blanket over his shoulders.

He barely stirred, only shifting slightly at the warmth.

---

Aventurine woke up feeling… different.

His brows furrowed slightly as he blinked away sleep. His study was still dimly lit, the documents still scattered on his desk. But something was different.

A blanket. Draped over him.

"So that’s how it is?"

With a lazy flick of his wrist, he called the system.

[Favorability Update: ???]

His smirk faltered.

Still unreadable.

"Am I… actually losing control?"

----

Aventurine had always been confident in his skills, after a few nights in the hidden gambling den, he realized something astonishing.

His luck was beyond anything human.

He didn’t just win. He always won.

Cards, dice, roulette—every game played into his hands like fate itself bent to his will. Even in situations where probability should have turned against him, he somehow walked away with everything.

Was this part of his character’s hidden abilities? A built-in advantage coded into the game? Or was it simply him—a streamer from another world—breaking the system?

Either way, he wasn’t about to waste it.

He started frequenting the den, not just for the thrill, but for information.

He had learned that in this world, gambling wasn’t just about money. It was power, influence, and secrets—things that he could use to his advantage.

Suddenly, you showed up.

Aventurine had been enjoying a quiet evening, leisurely flipping a gold coin between his fingers when he spotted you entering the den.

Well, well.

And here I thought they hated places like this.

His curiosity piqued, he smoothly stood and followed behind.

You seemed tense, scanning the tables until your eyes landed on a young man seated among a pile of scattered bets.

"Xevian." you said firmly.

The man—Xevian—stiffened before forcing a laugh. "Ah, Y/N! Didn’t expect to see you here."

Aventurine leaned against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, watching the exchange unfold.

"I need to talk to you," you continued. "Your father—he’s worried sick. You need to stop this before it’s too late."

At the mention of his father, Xevian’s face twisted. "No. You don’t understand. I just need one more round. Just one more win, and I can—"

"You said that last time," you interrupted, "How much have you lost, Xevian? How much more before you realize this isn’t the answer?"

Aventurine smirked, already seeing where this was going.

"You wouldn’t get it! You didn’t grow up in my position!"

Finally, you exhaled, your shoulders dropping slightly. "I just… I don’t want to see you ruin yourself."

For a moment, it seemed like Xevian might listen. That maybe, just maybe, your words had reached him.

The dealer called out the next round, and Xevian turned away, throwing himself back into the game without hesitation.

You stared at him, something dimming in your expression.

Then, without another word, you walked away.

Aventurine pushed off the pillar, smoothly falling into step beside you as you left the den.

"That was quite the show," he mused, "Didn’t expect you to be the type to chase after reckless gamblers."

"He’s not just any gambler. His father—Sir Edric—saved my life once. I owe him."

Aventurine hummed. "And yet, your dear Xevian doesn’t seem very… receptive."

Your expression darkened slightly, but you said nothing.

He grinned. "So, what’s your next move?"

"There isn’t one," you muttered. "I can’t force him to listen."

Aventurine stopped walking. "Then let me handle it."

"You?"

"Oh, come now. Surely you’ve noticed by now—I never lose."

"And you think gambling will fix this?"

"Not just gambling," he corrected. "Winning. If I take away everything he has, force him to face the reality of his losses, maybe he’ll start listening to you."

"I don’t trust gamblers"

Aventurine chuckled. "Good. I’d be disappointed if you did." Then, his voice softened, "But this time, Y/N… just this once, trust me."

You stared at him, conflict warring in your gaze.

"Fine. Just this once."

----

Aventurine had always known that the most effective lessons were the ones people felt in their bones.

Xevian wouldn’t listen to words. He needed to experience ruin.

So, Aventurine set the stage.

Getting Xevian to play was easy. All it took was a few well-placed words, the right amount of condescension, and a slight push to his pride.

“You’re good? Prove it.”

The young noble fell for it instantly.

They played a high-stakes game of chance, and as expected—Aventurine didn’t lose a single round.

It didn’t take long before Xevian had wagered everything—his money, his heirloom ring, and even the deed to his estate.

Then came the final blow.

"Ah, how unfortunate." Aventurine leaned back with a smirk, examining the losing dice roll like it was the most natural outcome in the world. "Looks like you’re completely bankrupt."

Xevian paled. "No… I-I just need another chance—"

"No second chances," Aventurine interrupted smoothly, gesturing to the guards standing nearby. "Take him."

The moment Xevian opened his mouth to protest, a cloth was shoved over his eyes. Blindfolded, restrained, and utterly powerless, he was dragged away as the murmurs of the crowd filled his ears.

He was about to learn.

Xevian woke up in chains. Around him, he heard voices—slaves whispering about their fate. About being sold to a distant land where no one would ever find them.

The guards, the merchants, the fake "buyers"—all actors, expertly placed to terrify Xevian into believing he had truly lost everything.

For a week, he was forced to work relentlessly—hauling crates, enduring harsh orders, sleeping on the cold ground with nothing but scraps of food.

Every attempt to bargain or beg was ignored.

Every night, he was left to wonder if this was truly the end of his privileged life.

And just when his hope was completely shattered—

The illusion ended.

The chains were removed.

And Xevian was told—

"Go home."

Xevian returned as a different man.

The arrogance in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a haunted, broken look. He avoided gambling dens, refused to touch dice, and listened to his father for once in his life.

At first, you thought he had simply learned his lesson after losing everything.

It wasn’t just regret. It was fear. And when you pressed him for answers, he refused to speak.

There was only one person who could be responsible for this.

You found Aventurine exactly where you expected—lounging in his study, idly flipping a gold coin between his fingers.

"Ah, Y/N," he drawled, lazily resting his chin on his hand. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What did you do to Xevian?"

"Why, whatever do you mean? I simply helped a lost soul find enlightenment."

"That’s not an answer."

He tapped the coin against the desk. "Xevian has changed for the better, hasn’t he? Shouldn’t you be thanking me?"

"He looks traumatized."

"Lesson learned, then."

"...You planned this from the start, didn’t you?"

"Of course, I told you, didn’t I? I never lose."

Aventurine expected a reward.

A smile. A small thank-you. Maybe even a slight increase in favorability.

[-10 Favorability]

The invisible notification might as well have been a knife to the chest.

Wait. What did I do wrong?

Why—

Why were you looking at him like that?

Why did you turn away without a word and leave him standing there?

You threw yourself into work, hoping to drown out your thoughts about Aventurine. But just as you were finishing up your tasks, a messenger arrived.

"Sir Edric wishes to see you."

You sighed. You already knew what this was about.

At his estate, Edric greeted you with a warm smile, placing a firm hand on your shoulder.

"You did well," he said. "Xevian has finally come to his senses. I don’t know what you said to him, but I cannot thank you enough."

This wasn’t your doing.

It was Aventurine’s.

Still, you didn’t argue.

"You’ve done so much for my family" he said. "And you know, you’re at the right age to start thinking about your own future."

"…What do you mean by that?"

The older man chuckled. "I’ve arranged a meeting for you. He’s a fine man from a good family—"

Your mind went blank for a second.

"I appreciate your concern," you said carefully. "But I don’t—"

"It’s just a meeting," Edric interrupted kindly. "No pressure. Just think about it, alright?"

-----

Dressed appropriately but keeping your expectations low, you made your way toward the arranged meeting place.

Aventurine, who had been brooding about his plummeting favorability, had just stepped out into the city when he spotted you from afar.

His irritation vanished instantly.

His keen gaze followed your every step.

Then, as if fate were mocking him, a group of overly enthusiastic noble ladies flocked around him.

"Aventurine, darling! You must see these silks—"

"Marquis Aventurine, try this perfume—"

"Oh! You must buy something for your sweetheart, yes?"

His eye twitched.

Not now.

Trying not to physically push them aside, he plastered on his usual charming smile while mentally tracking your direction.

Where are they headed?

Then, you walked into a fancy restaurant.

Aventurine's expression darkened slightly.

…Wait. That’s a place for…

No.

No, no, no.

That wasn’t—

That couldn’t be—

And just like that, Aventurine abandoned the noble ladies, his mind racing with a single, burning question:

Who the hell are they meeting?

Aventurine had always been a man who calculated risks before making his move.

But right now?

He was making a very impulsive decision.

Standing at the entrance of the fancy restaurant, he scanned the room—and the moment he spotted you, smiling and laughing with another man, something in his chest twisted.

That should be him.

He didn’t even think.

The next thing he knew, a waiter was knocked out cold in the back room, hidden behind stacked crates. Aventurine smoothly adjusted the stolen uniform, fixing the cuffs, then grabbed a tray and walked back out as if nothing happened.

Now, he was close enough to hear your conversation.

And he hated every second of it.

what was his name? Who cared?—said something charming.

Aventurine kept his expression neutral, even as he seethed internally.

If there was one thing Aventurine excelled at, it was rigging the game.

A slip of a harmless yet effective powder into the man’s drink as he turned to call the waiter.

He watched as your date took a few sips, continued the conversation for a few minutes… then suddenly stood up abruptly, his face paling.

"Pardon me, I— I need to step out for a moment" he said hurriedly.

He barely made it to the restroom.

Aventurine smirked.

Perfect. Now, it was his turn.

You blinked in surprise when Aventurine suddenly slid into the seat across from you.

"What are you doing here?"

"What a coincidence, isn’t it? I happened to be in the area."

"In a waiter’s uniform?"

"Exploring new experiences, of course. One must always broaden their horizons."

"You know," he murmured, "you have something here."

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against the corner of your lips, swiping away a bit of cream from your dessert.

Your heart skipped a beat.

He examined the cream on his fingertip, then—without breaking eye contact—he licked it off.

"A shame," he mused, as if nothing had happened. "Would’ve been a waste to let it go uneaten."

You quickly cleared your throat, looking away. "That was unnecessary."

-----

You were going about your day as usual, completely unaware of the chaos happening just a few streets away.

While you were organizing documents, checking over supplies, or perhaps handling some errands—

Aventurine was handling something else entirely.

A shadow slithered across the rooftops.

They were careful, precise, a professional through and through.

Too bad they didn’t account for Aventurine’s presence.

Bang.

A bullet tore through their leg, sending them crashing down onto the cobblestone streets below.

Aventurine sighed, casually stepping onto the edge of the rooftop, looking down at the writhing figure.

"Sloppy" he mused, twirling his gun before tucking it away. "Who sent you?"

The assassin gritted their teeth, refusing to speak.

"That’s fine. I don’t actually care."

Then, with zero hesitation, he kicked them off the ledge—right into the waiting arms of the city guards he had bribed earlier.

"Take this one to jail," he instructed, dusting off his gloves. "Tell them I’ll send more soon."

By morning, another poor soul found themselves bound and gagged, being dragged into a dark prison cell.

The guards stationed there were already used to this.

"Another one?" One of them raised a brow as Aventurine strolled in, utterly unbothered, while the latest fool thrashed helplessly on the ground.

"You should really tighten security" Aventurine sighed dramatically. "I mean, how do these idiots keep sneaking in? It’s getting embarrassing."

The guard merely shook his head. "We’ll handle it."

Late afternoon.

While you were focused on work, Aventurine was beating the living daylights out of yet another group of thugs.

"Try harder" he mocked as he sidestepped an incoming dagger, grabbing the attacker’s wrist and twisting it until they screamed.

"Pathetic" Aventurine muttered, adjusting his sleeves. "You came all this way, and this is the best you can do?"

One of the injured men shakily pulled out a contract from his pocket, barely able to breathe.

Aventurine plucked it from his trembling fingers, skimming over the details.

"P-Please, I was just following orders—!"

"Tell your employers," he murmured, "that if they try this again…"

"I’ll start playing dirty."

The thug nodded frantically, his body shaking.

By the third day, He finished handling any threats that dare to approach you.

Aventurine dusted off his hands, satisfied.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Now, he could turn his attention back to you.

Aventurine was getting used to this world.

But this?

This was a whole new level of unexpected.

One moment, he was lounging in his study, pouring himself a glass of wine, flipping through reports on the people who had dared to go after you—

And the next—

He was somewhere else entirely.

The scent of warm bath oils lingered in the air.

Your room.

Aventurine blinked.

Then his eyes slowly trailed up— To you.

Standing at the doorway.

Fresh out of the bath.

Ah.…This was bad.

Your eyes widened in shock, "Aventurine." Your tone was deadly. "What. The. Hell. Are you doing in my room?"

Aventurine was a man of quick thinking.

He had seconds—no, milliseconds—to turn this situation in his favor.

So he did what he did best.

"Ah," he exhaled, "So this is what your private quarters look like. How cozy."

You grabbed the nearest object—a comb—and threw it at his head.

He caught it effortlessly, twirling it between his fingers before setting it down on your vanity with an amused chuckle.

"Relax," he said, tilting his head. "If I knew I’d be magically teleported here, I would’ve at least brought a gift."

You weren’t buying it.

"You’re trespassing," you hissed. "Explain. Now."

Aventurine sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "As much as I’d love to say I came here to steal a glance of you fresh out of the bath, I’m afraid the truth is far less scandalous."

"The glitch happened again," he said, "One second, I was in my study. The next, I was here."

You crossed your arms, still furious—but slightly less about to murder him.

Seeing the shift, Aventurine took a calculated risk.

He stepped closer.

You stiffened as he reached out—gently brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

"If anything," he murmured, "you should be flattered."

Your eyes snapped up to his in disbelief.

"Flattered?"

"Think about it," he said, "Out of all the places in this world, the glitch sent me straight to you."

His fingers lingered for half a second longer before he finally pulled away.

"A sign, don’t you think?"

Your glare was unwavering.

"What glitch?" you demanded.

Aventurine opened his mouth to respond—

And then, before your very eyes, he vanished.

"Aventurine?"

The air where he once stood was empty.

Nothing.

Not even a trace.

The void swallowed him whole.

He barely had time to process what happened before a bright, mechanical ding echoed through the empty space.

A translucent screen popped up in front of him.

⚠ WARNING! ⚠

If Max Favorability is not reached in 3 days, the character "Aventurine" will be TERMINATED.

"Oh, come on."

If the system was going to pull this on him, then he needed to check his current favorability status.

With a flick of his wrist, another screen appeared.

[Character: Aventurine - Favorability Status]

Current Points: 55/100 Penalty Applied: -5 (Previous Incident) Recent Increase: +10 (??? Event in Room)

Aventurine whistled.

"Not bad" he mused, ignoring the penalty from earlier.

Still—55 wasn’t enough.

Not when his life was literally on the line.

He had three days to make you fall for him completely.

"Guess I’ll have to speed things up."

Day 1 - When the glitch spat him back into the world, he landed right in front of you again.

Instead of shock, your expression was pure suspicion.

"Alright," you crossed your arms. "Explain. Now."

Aventurine put on his most charming smile.

"It’s a bit complicated," he sighed, "but long story short? I need you to like me."

"Like you?"

"In the romantic sense" he clarified.

"Absolutely not."

"That’s fair! But hear me out—"

"You’ve already given me 55 favorability points without even trying," he pointed out. "Imagine how much more you’d give if I actually put in the effort."

With that, Operation: Win You Over began.

Step 1: Become the Perfect Gentleman

Aventurine pulled every trick in the book.

Carrying your things without being asked. "Wouldn’t want you to strain yourself, now would we?"

Guiding you by the waist through crowds. "Tsk, these people have no manners."

Holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

Flashing that charming, lazy smile every time you rolled your eyes.

You tried to ignore him.

You failed.

Your favorability rose by +5 that afternoon.

Step 2: Small but Thoughtful Gestures

A warm drink waiting for you on your desk. "Oh? You like it? What a coincidence—I guessed your favorite."

Fixing your cloak before you stepped outside. "Here—let me do it."

Sending a servant to make sure you ate. "Can’t have you collapsing on me, now can we?"

Your favorability ticked up another +5.

65/100. Not bad for Day 1.

Day 2 - Aventurine knew something very important about you.

You didn’t like being looked down on.

You hated being treated as lesser because of your civilian background.

So when he overheard some noble mocking you behind your back

Step 3: The Dramatic Rescue

"It’s funny, really. No matter how hard they try, people like them will never be one of us—"

"Is that so?"

"S-Sir Aventurine! I didn’t see you—"

"Clearly. And here I thought nobility required better manners."

"I wonder," he mused, "what would happen if I were to mention this little conversation to someone important?"

"Ah—w-we were just joking—"

"Oh, were you? Then laugh."

"Go on," Aventurine said, eyes gleaming. "If it’s so funny, why aren’t you laughing?"

The noble fled.

When you later heard what happened—

You were annoyed.

You didn’t need him to defend you.

But still…

Your favorability rose by +10.

75/100.

Day 3 - Aventurine had one day left. He needed something big.

Step 4: The Perfect Night

As the sun set, you received an invitation.

“Meet me at the garden. – Aventurine”

"What is he up to now?"

Still, curiosity won.

When you arrived—

The entire garden was transformed.

Hundreds of candles lined the pathways.

Soft, golden lights twinkled like stars above the fountain.

A table was set with fine silverware, exquisite dishes, and two glasses of wine.

Aventurine stood in the center—smirking, dressed in all black, looking effortlessly charming as always.

"Finally," he said, "I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come."

"What… is all this?"

Aventurine stepped closer, reaching for your hand.

"This," he murmured, "is my way of proving something."

"And what exactly are you proving?"

"That I can give you the world," he whispered. "All you have to do… is accept me."

+25

MAX FAVORABILITY REACHED

Just as your lips parted—

A pulse of glitching energy rippled through the garden, twisting the scenery like a shattered illusion.

Your vision blurred.

The soft candlelight, the warmth of Aventurine’s touch—everything shattered into fragments.

When the world stabilized, Aventurine found himself somewhere new.

A golden, endless space stretched before him. Floating panels flickered around him, displaying data, numbers, and system logs.

In front of him, a holographic screen appeared.

[Congratulations, Player Aventurine!]

As a reward, you may select ONE of the following options:

Complete Memory Reset – Your existence will be erased from Y/N’s mind. Start fresh.

Full Control – Modify Y/N’s personality, ensuring absolute devotion.

Selective Memory Erasure – Remove specific memories related to system mechanics.

Enhanced Influence – All interactions with Y/N will result in higher emotional impact.

He wanted you to love him naturally—to fall again and again, without ever knowing how much he had already twisted the game.

So, he tapped his selection.

(Y/N) will lose all memories related to system mechanics, favorability, and glitches.

A new message popped up.

Additional Effect: Your final interaction before memory reset will remain in their subconscious, leaving a lingering emotional attachment.

Perfect.

A soft breeze rustled through the garden. The scent of fresh roses filled the air.

You were still standing in front of Aventurine—but something felt… off.

Your head throbbed. A strange fog clouded your mind, like you had just forgotten something important.

"Well?" he prompted, "You never answered me."

You blinked again. "What?"

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"I proposed to you," he reminded. "And you still haven’t given me an answer."

Wait—he did?

Why couldn’t you remember?

You stared at him, feeling strangely flustered.

Aventurine only watched you with amused fascination.

You weren’t rejecting him immediately.

That meant his plan was already working.

To you, Aventurine was simply your persistent suitor—

One who had just proposed.

And now that he had reset the game, he was going to have so much fun toying with you.

After all—

He had all the time in the world.

[r0-boat]

pleaseee could i ask for amon nsfw alphabet? i really love your work ! ❤️

Yes you may!!

Amon NSFW Alphabet

Oh my god this took me longer than it should have holy fuck!!

Cw: rough sex, risk risk risk, public sex.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Aftercare is a lost concept for Amon. To be honest, there will be no aftercare because even after sex, Amon will still be touching you. Fiddling with your chest, benching and tweaking your nipples idly, or his hand still in between your legs. To Amon, there is no after-sex until he is separated from you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If it wasn't for Naberius being so territorial with your lap, your thighs would be his favorite.

At least your chest is nice and squishy, soft. so suckable, fuckable, nappable.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

They're is nothing more eyerolling than fucking that little human throat until He gives you a delicious serving of hot demon cum. Or filling you up until his cum runs down your legs only for him to eat you out tasting your mix juices.

He thinks the two of you taste so good together~!

"Go on drink up Dollface, I have more where that came from~!"

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Stole your used underwear and blamed it on Naberius. Sorry Nabs you were kind of the perfect scapegoat. And it's not like Naberius can lie Not because he physically can't but because he has stolen some of your clothing before.

He's used that piece of cloth so many times and no longer smells like you... And it's almost completely torn up from how much... Love he's given to it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Amon probably goes to groupies with Beelzebub. With experience and pleasure He's probably on par with him.

If it comes to pure sexual experience, Abyssos completely outmatches everyone. They're just heavy gluttons. They just want more and more and more.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Any position where he can physically restrain you, hold you a manhandle you or press you against something. All the while forcing you to take every slam of his hips. Making sure you feel his entire body weight pressed against you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yes, always playing with you always joking around and before you get mad that's when he starts pounding relentlessly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think Amon doesn't have a lot of hair despite the fact that he doesn't shave. Amon has a little happy line going from his crotch to his belly button. Bro, it's too lazy to shave, but he's not sloth-level lazy. Honestly, he only cares about hair if it's making you scream his name less.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

No romance just fuck, you'll drag you push you against the wall and push his tongue into your mouth. Amon will be rough and domineering as he takes what he wants from you.

Whenever he's checking off, he will make sure you know. Be prepared for lots of dick pics. Almost every other call He gives you He's stroking his cock for you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Amon to me has the energy of a closeted brat tamer. You're all pretty for him and he loves to silence you with his big cock down your throat. But it's not too hard to get him to act on those desires to dominate and control.

Every one of his colleagues thinks he's just an incompetent, lazy, and unmotivated fool. Meanwhile, you're limping because he gave you hours of back shots.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

This man doesn't have a favorite location He will fuck you on any furniture. No matter where it is you'll find new ways and new positions to bend you into. He's probably laid you on every service of the Abyssos palace.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

With any demons ruling under the sin of gluttony teasing them is something you should never do. It's potentially like putting a delicious steak in front of a hungry dogs.

If you ever ever tried to tease him He will fuck you till you can't walk, And then keep fucking you as punishment for being such a brat.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Vanilla is boring, get the shit out of there. Come on have a little risk in your life. There's nothing wrong with a little bit of adrenaline.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sit on his mother fucking face till his skull breaks You better be depriving him air. If you're grinding and riding his face that he is going to grab your hips and force you to grind across his tongue. He wants your full body weight sitting directly on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Bunny rabbit in heat on cocaine.

Deep and hard enough to make you sore. If you're not hurting next morning then he's doing it wrong

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

FUUUUUUUCK YES!!! Quickies are his lifeblood. There is nothing like slamming you against his bed drilling into you 10 minutes before his meeting with devil officials from Gehenna.

He wants to see his fresh cum drip down your leg while the two of you struggle to be at least presentable. No matter how much you try to hide any hickey or any evidence of how hard he fucked you, He will take it as a challenge. It is his mission to my other devil's know just have sex.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This demon is a risk king adrenaline junkie.

The two of you are in public? He'll drag you to a bathroom. Walking in the streets? Up against the wall hands behind your back His hard cock pressing against the curve of your ass.

Demons might see? Fucking let them, They can watch but they can't touch.

Amon is so chill he'll try anything once, Maybe even twice.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a lot of stamina. Amon can last for a long time but you'll never know because ofthe quickies he's obsessed with doing. It's not like he cares though. He makes you cum in his cock and he fills you up all the same.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Toys are very effective tools especially when it comes to punishment. His favorite are the choker collars that turn into makeshift leashes for him to grab and pull.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Teasing him results in punishment. But for you teasing it is one of his favorite things to do. Watching you beg and squirm reveling in your peer agony, voice dripping with desperation.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

A lot of grunts and growls tries to be loud and tries to make you scream louder.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Has had a threesome with you and Stolas in Beelzebub's bed while he was busy doing work and it was the hardest orgasm he ever had.

Large cock with an average girth slightly curving up. cut with a dick piercing on the tip. He always tries to point out if you could feel his piercing inside you are not. And ask if it feels good.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Insatiable appetite, No matter how much sex he will never not want more. Abyssos devils are never satisfied and always want more and more. It seems like he's always begging to slide his dick inside you one more time for one more quickie.

After sex he fucking passes out. Has the best nap of his life wakes up to fuck you again.

Rinse repeat

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Is it just me or do 2003 Leo and Raph have the best relationship out of all the iterations? It's my favorite, at least. Like they do get snappy with each other sometimes but their spats aren't nearly as often, as intense or festering as long as some others I've seen.

It was refreshing that Raph didn't challenge Leo's position as leader nearly as much. Sometimes he would challenge the decisions he made while leading but not undermine his position. He learned and mostly accepted that Leo would be a good leader in childhood and he backed him up nine times out of ten (even when Leo didn't know it: e.g. the "If Leo needs us, we're here. But let's see what this is all about." An instance of Raph pulling a Leo-type move, hanging back to recon rather than rushing in, while Leo's judgment was clouded. Learning from each other and supporting even from a distance)

How ready they are to be there for each other? How openly protective they are of each other? Like they're not as coy or begrudging or emotionally constipated as others about showing how much they care. Small gestures, big gestures, it doesn't matter. Leo's having trouble focusing on a plan because of the noise? Raph makes the noise go away. Wasn't Raph the first one who wanted to look for Leo when his morning training (getting ambushed by the Foot) ran unusually late? Or the scene where Leo's suddenly getting pulled away by an unknown magical force and he calls out to his brothers in alarm. Don cries, "Oh, no!" as he and Mikey stand there and watch; they freeze up. Raph dives headlong after him instantly.

And how they take it when they can't be there for each other? He dove headlong and he didn't actually make it in time to grab Leo's hand before he's gone. Master Splinter has to physically hold him back as he's still shouting and fighting to get to him (and then he has to be restrained again by magic when it looks like Leo's in danger in the 1v1 he was pulled to. Screw the fact that he's obviously outpowered by the almighty binding rules of the duel, he'll go kicking and screaming anyway, that's his bro!) And the scene where they're on top of a moving car, Leo loses his grip on Raph and he falls and from Leo's POV, time slows until he sees Raph land alright. Raph facing his fear ick about bugs, jumping down to defend Leo from the big boss bug with no hesitation when he sees him get stung? And of course when he cries just the once (as far as I recall) in the whole series when Leo's seriously hurt. How he makes me cry in SAINW as he crawls to Leo's side, reaches out for him, calls his name with his dying breath, his last word is his brother's name as he falls beside him, hand against his??? And that was after being estranged in that what-if future! LIKE BRO THAT SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM

Even just the two or three lines where Leo's waxing poetic about their family, being completely sincere, and Mikey bursts out laughing and teases him for being a sap. Raph immediately tells Mikey to lay off and that Leo's got a point.

They're just so good. They have a few arguments like all siblings do but there is zero doubt that they love each other to pieces and they don't hesitate at all to show it on the regular. And outside of that estrangement timeframe where they were traumatized and grieving and in a literal apocalypse where they lost all hope, they didn't let their relationship fall apart the way some other iterations did. (Like I love 2007 but that fight on the rooftop? Where Raph could have killed him? I watch it and I can't help but think to myself, "2003 Leo and Raph would never." We saw them have a tussle on a rooftop and the moment there was a possibility he put Raph in real danger, Leo came to his senses and dropped everything to make sure he was okay. I dunno)

Asfjskjfks this is all just biased four AM rambling. The point is I love them, your honor, best/closest/healthiest R&B dynamic duo forever in my heart <3 (Natural disclaimer: I don't say any of this to crap on any of the other iterations. I like them all! I just like 2003's portrayal the most)

[mechncheese]

opinion on cyberverse?

After originally watching Cyberverse I feel like I had to marinate on it for a while and here are my thoughts, it's long so get ready for a ride ! Major Spoiler warning for Cyberverse, I discuss a lot about character deaths and plot points

Overall, Cyberverse is fun if you don't take it seriously and if you don't care too much about the story. I feel like the main weakness of Cyberverse was the story and its strength was with the character interactions. Chapter 1 was a little repetitive since it mostly revolves around Windblade helping Bumblebee out with recovering his memory but it gives context to the world + character stuff. Jumping into Chapter 2 felt really out of place because things just happen-- how come humans know about the transformers ? Why are they being posted on social media to be memed on ? HOW IS MEGATRON LIVE STREAMING ??? How come Bumblebee suddenly has his voice back ? When I first watched through it I was like there has GOT to be something I missed because why is there this massive jump in time ??? But that's legit just how it is but it's kinda entertaining, you're there to see everyone be really funny and silly with each other. Chapter 3 was probably my favorite one, Perceptor is there and he's so GOOD, I love that he's blind, I love that he's such a badass AUGH he's perfect ! The story actually gets pretty investing at that point because everyone's working together against a bigger foe and it was genuinely really sweet to see ! I liked it a lot ! HOTROD AND SOUNDWAVE WORKING TOGETHER WAS MY FAVORITE I had no idea these guys could have such an interesting and fun dynamic with one another BUT IT WORKS, IT WORKS WELL ! CYBERTRONIANS SUPERIOR ! and then like the last half of Chapter 3 took me out of it low-key.. End of Ep 17 - Beginning with Ep 18 Enemy Line I was like AUGH.. NO MORE PLEASE ! And the looking for pieces of Windblade thing.. GO ON A FETCH QUEST. Chapter 4 (the two 1 hour specials) .. I'm not gonna sugar-coat it, I did not care for Soundblaster. TARN WAS INTERESTING I LIKED HIM but SOUNDWAVE. BRO. I WAS DEVASTATED, SOUNDWAVE BECAME MY FAV IN THE SHOW BECAUSE HIS ARC WITH HOTROD THEY WORKED SO WELL TOGETHER, WE CAN'T HAVE ANYTHING NICE !!! SOMETHING HORRIBLE ALWAYS HAPPENS

A surprising amount of like SOMEWHAT DISTURBING THINGS HAPPEN, not that there's anything wrong with it but it just seemed so jarring and a little out of place with the main tone of the show being more towards something lighthearted. There's a long scene of Starscream getting absolutely beaten to hell and back by Megatron and I was like OH MY GOD IT JUST KEEPS GOING ??? and when Starscream KILLS EVERY OTHER SEEKER I was so stunned like WHAT ??? OK GOODBYE THUNDERCRACKER, GOODBYE EVERYONE ?? Shockwave and Cheetor dying to basically battle it out in the Allspark was actually a little nuts. A LOT OF CHARACTERS DIE STRAIGHT UP ??? Prowl gets hit a little bit and I guess he's gone forever GOODBYE PROWL ! ALSO THE DRIFT TWIST LIKE WHAT OK THAT WAS OUT OF NOWHERE !!! HOTROD TRYING TO TAKE HIM DOWN WITH HIM ??? KINDA MORBID IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT. Hotrod getting a different color palette afterwards felt a little like Lost Light and I think that's what it was supposed to be referencing.

I actually didn't really like Jetfire's Cyberverse characterization in Cyberverse </3 I LOVE HIM DON'T GET ME WRONG BUT OH MY GOD HE'S UNHINGED, HE'S BLINDED BY HIS RIVALRY WITH SKYBYTE BRO HAS LITERALLY DESTROYED PLANETS TRYING TO KILL THIS DAMN SHARK. WHAT HAPPENED JETFIRE ???

Ok, now I'm gonna glaze the show. THE ART DIRECTION IS SO BEAUTIFUL. The character designs are absolutely gorgeous, I don't think there was a single design I disliked. I like a lot of the saturated colors used and how the character designs have a consistent motif of glowing accent lights on their bodies. I took a lot of inspiration from the art direction from Cyberverse for my own Science Continuity. The background work is absolutely breathtaking, it fits perfectly with the characters. I'm actually super inspired by a lot of Graham Finnigan and Piotr Bzdura's background work on Cyberverse (I'm sure it shows). I ALSO LOVE UNUSUAL CHARACTER INTERACTIONS ! That's what also inspired a lot of my Science Continuity, I love when characters who never really interact in other continuities interact, it just opens the door to so many possibilities. Shockwave and Wheeljack ?? Grimlock and Arcee ?? Perceptor and his uncooperative team ?? YES ! PLEASE !! MORE ! I had a lot of fun watching Cyberverse when I was not taking the story seriously and while at times it was grueling, it also had some highlights and really great moments !

Would I watch it again ? Uh.. Honestly probably not the entirety of Cyberverse. I'd only rewatch for specific scenes or episodes. Would I recommend Cyberverse to anyone ? If you're into character interactions more than story and plot, I'd say go for it but it's definitely not for everyone.

[q-gorgeous]

Live A Day In My Shoes

ao3

ffn

word count: 4982

prompt: Lifeswap! Live a day in each other's shoes! But... for some reason, this day feels like it will never end. (metaphorical or literal and who are up to you) @sheepheadfred

bros i was not sure how to end this one ahh

Danny yawned as he walked through the hallway. Another day of boring school. He couldn’t wait to go home. 

“Hey, Fentina!” 

Danny groaned. Of course. He couldn’t ever go a day without seeing his favorite person in the world. 

“What do you want, Dash?” 

Dash grabbed Danny’s backpack hook and yanked him backwards, almost causing Danny’s feet to come out from underneath him. Then he shoved Danny into the lockers. 

“Just want to wail on my favorite nerd. I saw you over here and I just couldn’t resist.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Man, Dash. you couldn’t resist me? I didn’t peg you as being into guys.” 

Dash’s cheeks turned pink and he jostled Danny against the lockers again. 

“You better not peg me at all.”

Danny smirked. “Wasn’t planning on it.” 

Dash’s face turned red. “Shut up! Loser!” 

Dash shoved Danny to the ground and he hit it hard. He hit his elbow as he landed and hissed. 

“You’re just a geek. A freak. A loser.” 

Danny sat up and glared at him. “Yeah, and you’re a jackass.” 

“A jackass with a perfect life.” Danny rolled his life.

“I wish you’d understand what my life was like.” Danny muttered.

A beat of silence and then Danny covered his mouth and looked around them. He said the word. Dash looked up and down the hallway as well. 

“Are you dumb, Fenton?” 

Danny slowly pulled his hands away from his mouth as he continued looking around. “Uh, maybe. It doesn’t look like she was here though?” 

“I’m blaming you if we go through some freaky Friday body swap bullshit.”

Danny started standing back up and waved Dash off. “We would’ve noticed if she granted a wish by now. It’ll be fine.”

“You better hope so.” 

Dash walked by Danny and shoulder checked him. Danny hissed at the impact and glared at him over his shoulder. 

Dash was a jerk.

~~~~~~~

Danny walked into the lunchroom. The room was already filled with people. He got in line to get his lunch. 

Once he had his food he turned to scan the room for Sam and Tucker. He saw them already sitting at their usual table near the windows. He made his way over to them.

“Hey guys.” He set down his tray and sat down

“Hey, dude.” Tucker said through a mouthful of his burger. 

“Had a run in with Dash again today.” Danny rolled his eyes and stabbed his lettuce with a fork. “I think I got him back pretty good today, though.”

“Nothing ghostly I hope?” Sam frowned at him.

“Nope, I just flustered him.” Sam shook her head and gave him a questioning look but Danny ignored it. “That reminds me though. I accidentally sort of used the w word out loud.” 

Sam groaned. “Danny you didn’t.”

“Tucker slurped at his juice box. “What’d you wish for?”

“That Dash would understand my life or whatever.” 

“What? Why?” Sam asked. 

Danny let out a deep breath. “I’m tired of him picking on me. I just think it’d be cool if he knew what it was like.”

“Yeah, but what if Desiree-“

“I said it and nothing happened.” Danny said as he looked between Sam and Tucker. “I don’t think she heard it.”

“Phew.” Tucker breathed out. “Imagine what she could’ve done with that wish. Would the roles be flipped? Would you become a bully? Would Dash have been born to ghost hunting parents? Would he have replaced your best friend in the whole world’s role and been your best friend instead?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “At least she wasn’t here. It definitely could’ve gone bad. He could find out your secret identity from it.”

Danny raised a brow at her. “How?”

Sam shrugged. “If he’s living a day in your shoes, wouldn’t that mean everything? School and the ghost powers?”

Danny looked back down at his food. He guessed that was true. 

“Yeah. I-“

Danny flinched as something hit him in the back of the head. He looked down to see an apple. 

“Hah! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Fenton!”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” Sam placed her hands on the table and stood up, glaring at Dash. 

“Oohhh what are you gonna do?” Dash mocked.

Danny watched Dash walk towards his table where his friends sat. He placed a hand on the bench he sat on and spread his intangibility through it and onto the floor. When it reached Dash, he took a step and his foot went into the floor and set him off balance. He fell to the floor, his lunch tray clattering on the ground. 

The rest of his table burst into laughter, except for Kwan who stood up and bent down to check on Dash. He gently pushed Kwan’s hand away but he still had a bite in his voice.

“I’m fine!” He stood up and glared at the rest of his friends and stomped out of the room with Kwan following behind him, lunch tray forgotten. 

Danny snickered with Tucker and Sam shook her head.

“You better hope that Desiree didn’t hear your wish.” She took a sip of her milk. “If he finds out you did that, he’ll kick your ass straight into the ghost zone.”

“If it’s a body swap situation would it technically be my ass or his?” Him and Tucker laughed together. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don't think he'd have any gripes about not using your ghost power on you.” 

Danny waved her comment off.

“It’s not like it’ll ever happen.” 

~~~~~~~

Danny woke up groggily the next morning. He groaned and shifted in bed. But moving felt funny. It was almost as if he was heavier than normal. Maybe his arms had fallen asleep while he was sleeping again.

He rolled onto his other side and then his alarm started going off. It was a different sound. Jazz must've changed it. Something about it waking him up easier if he wasn’t used to the sound.

With his eyes closed, he slapped the top of the alarm clock, missing the first time. He threw the covers back and swung his feet down to the floor. Danny yawned.

Bathroom. 

He stood up and stumbled his way to his door and grabbed the handle.

Danny opened the door to the hallway, blinking open his eyes, and stopped before he walked out of the room. 

This wasn’t his hallway.

He closed the door and opened it again. Still the wrong hallway. He closed the door and turned around to look at the room he was in. This wasn’t his room. Where was he?

He walked up to the closet and pulled it open. His heart dropped when he saw the hangers filled with letterman jackets and the bears all over the floor.

He was in Dash’s house. How did he get here? 

Danny ran his hands through his hair but pulled them back when all he felt was fuzzy short hair. 

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

He started digging around in the room. Dash had to have a mirror in here somewhere. Surely.

All Danny found was a spoon. Peeking in the spoon's reflection, he saw Dash’s face staring back at him.

He groaned. Desiree heard him make his wish yesterday. Of course she did. 

Danny tried pulling at his core, but of course since this wasn’t his body, he couldn’t feel anything. 

“Dash! Get your butt up! You’ll be late for school!”

Danny jumped at the sound of Dash’s dad’s voice. How was he going to make it through a conversation with that man? 

Danny looked around the room. He found a pair of pants laying on the floor and a black shirt. He changed and stared at the letterman jacket on Dash’s desk chair. He’d pass on that. 

He grabbed Dash’s backpack and looked out the window. Could he make it down from here? 

Danny debated it for a couple minutes before deciding against it. He didn’t want to break Dash’s body within not even ten minutes of being awake. He’d have to chance going downstairs past Dash’s dad. 

He opened the bedroom door and tiptoed into the hallway. He looked down both ways and pulled the door shut behind him. He could hear Dash’s dad making noise downstairs and then a door shut.

This was his chance.

He hurried down the stairs and glanced around for the front door before spotting it. When he was outside he started booking it down the road. 

He had to find Dash. Surely he would be at Danny’s house. There’s no way he would’ve gotten anywhere yet. 

He turned onto his street and saw Fentonworks come into view. He ran up and knocked on the front door, out of breath. Then he paused.

What was he going to say to his parents? What excuse would a random kid have to be at their house before school? 

“Coming!” His mom’s voice called through the door. She pulled it open and Danny straightened his stance and stared at his parents. 

“Hi, uh, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton.” Danny looked between his parents with wide eyes. “I- I need to speak to Danny. About. Our… english project?” 

“Oh sure! Let me call him down here.” she turned her head in the direction of the stairs. “Danny! Someone’s here to see you!” A thump could be heard through the floor and she chuckled. 

“So what’s your guy’s english project about?” Maddie asked.

“It’s- uh-“ 

Danny’s eyes widened as he watched his own body slip through the ceiling and fall onto the living room floor. When he looked up he looked straight at Danny. His look was a combination of I’m gonna kill you and what the fuck. 

His mom turned around at the sound when Dash stood up.

“Oh! Danny, good you’re awake. Your friend came to see you about your english project?” 

“Our english project.” Dash stared at him.

“Yeah.” Danny said.” Our english project? We were reading Freaky Friday?”

“I thought Freaky Friday was a movie.” 

Danny wanted to strangle him. His mom sighed. 

“Danny, dear, you need to start paying more attention in school.” 

“Can I just come in? We have to talk about our presentation before we get to school today.”

Dash threw his hands up into the air and turned to walk towards the stairs. His mom waved him in. 

“I’m sorry about that. He must not have gotten much sleep last night.”

“It’s okay mo- Mrs. Fenton!”

Danny walked in and followed behind Dash. When Danny got up there he saw Dash studying the doors in the hallway. He walked up to his bedroom door and opened it. Dash stomped his way inside. When the door closed Dash turned around and glared at him.

“This is all your fault, Fenton!” 

Danny rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know. You can lay off. I’ll hear about it again later from Sam. But we need to fix this.”

“How do you think we’re gonna fix this?” Dash was still glaring at him. “We’re not Phantom. We don’t hunt ghosts.”

Danny shuffled on his feet. “I mean- no. But we can find Desiree.” 

“How are we gonna do that?”

Then his feet disappeared and he started sinking. 

Dash looked up at him in panic. “And why do I keep falling through the floor?!”

Danny grabbed onto Dash’s hands and pulled him back into the room. His feet landed on solid ground and he sighed. 

“We have to skip school today.”

“You’re not even gonna answer the question?!” Dash flailed his arms around. “What is wrong with your body?” 

“We can’t have you going to school like that.” Danny gestured at him. “I don’t think we’ll be able to pretend to be each other very well. We just need to find Desiree.”

“Let’s just find Phantom.” Dash walked up to Danny to stare up at him. 

A flash lit up the room and Danny’s eyes widened in panic. His transformation washed over Dash. Dash watched as the suit formed over his arms and legs. He was staring at his hands and raised his head up slowly to look at Danny. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“Surprise! We’ve already got Phantom.”

“You’re Phantom?!”

“Shh!” Danny covered Dash’s mouth with his hand and turned his head to look at the door. “This is why we can’t go to school. If you can’t control my powers you’re gonna blow my identity.” 

Dash grabbed Danny’s wrist and tried to pull his hand off of his face. Danny smirked.

“Isn't it so fun when you can’t fight back, huh?”

Dash finally managed to move Danny’s hand. “You better watch it. Couldn’t I suplex you with your powers?”

“You have to figure out how to use my super strength first.”

Dash frowned at that. He looked down when the transformation rings appeared again and changed him back into Danny’s human form. 

“Danny! You and your friend should hurry up if you don’t want to be late for school!” 

Danny let go of Dash. “Get dressed.”

Dash’s cheeks turned pink and he looked around for some clothes. He picked up the first shirt and pants he saw on the ground and was about to pull his shirt off before he locked back up at Danny. 

“Don’t watch me change! Turn around.”

“Dude it’s my body! What does it matter?” 

Dash stared at each other until Danny groaned and turned around. He crossed his arms. 

“I didn’t realize you were that shy, Dash.”

“I’m not. I never thought Phantom would be watching me undress.”

“Did it even cross your mind that I had to dress your body today?” 

Dash groaned and Danny felt a pillow hit him. Danny turned around and Dash was finishing pulling his shirt on. He was about to start walking when Danny pointed at his backpack next to his bed.

“We have to look like we’re going to school. Grab my bag. It has a thermos in it too.” 

Dash grumbled and picked up his backpack and Danny opened the door. When he headed down the stairs his mom walked up to him and Dash.

“Here you two! Have some muffins for the road.” Danny smiled and took the banana nut muffin. Dash took his and just stared at it. 

“Thanks! See you later mo- Mrs. Fenton!” 

Danny elbowed Dash and knocked him out of his muffin induced stupor. “Oh. Yeah. Thanks.”

They walked out the front door and Danny pulled it shut behind them. Dash was still staring at the muffin.

“What, you’ve never had a muffin before?” Danny asked him. He took a bite into his own. 

“No. My dad just doesn’t generally make meals for me anymore.”

“Oh.” Danny shuffled on his feet. “That sucks.” 

“Yeah.” Dash peeled the wrapper off the muffin and took a bite out of it. “Where are we going anyways if we’re not going to school?” 

“I’m not sure. I haven’t planned that far yet.” 

Dash groaned.

“Hey, give me my phone. I gotta call Sam and Tucker.” 

Dash pulled Danny’s phone out of his pocket and handed it to Danny. He brought up Tucker’s picture and hit call. 

“Danny?” Tucker asked as a greeting. He sounded worried. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got a, uh, situation, Tucker.”

“Dash?”

Danny shook his head. “Nope. We had a freaky friday mishap.”

Tucker paused before his laughter sounded from the other end of the call. 

“Tucker!”

He kept laughing and then he heard some shuffling and Sam’s muffled voice over the line. 

“Give me the phone Tucker! Danny?”

“In the flesh. But not really.” 

Sam groaned. “Dash is with you then?”

“Yep.”

“Has he figured out your identity?”

“Oh yeah totally.” 

Sam sighed heavily into the phone and Danny cringed. “What do you need?”

“We can’t go to school today.” Danny said as he looked at Dash. His hand went invisible. “He doesn’t know how to control my powers and we can’t risk him exposing me. We need to find Desiree.”

“Why don’t you make another wish? That could bring her right to you.” Tucker’s voice cut in loudly over the phone. Danny could hear as Sam lightly bapped him on the face.

“She twists the intentions of people’s wishes around. What if they make another wish and it makes it worse?” 

“What if they w-i-s-h for Desiree to be there?”

“She’d have to be there already in order to grant their wish.” 

Danny thought as Sam and Tucker bickered on the other end of the call. Then his eyes widened.

“Hey, Tucker. How far did we get in cataloguing the ghost’s ectosignatures? Did we ever get Desiree’s?”

“Oh!” He heard Tucker messing with something. Probably the tracking device that he always carried on him now. They reconfigured one of his parents' trackers to tell them which ghost was showing up on the radar based off of their ectosignature. It was a real godsend, especially if the ghost setting off his ghost sense was just Cujo or the Box Ghost. 

“Yep! We’ve got her in here already.” Tucker paused. “Huh.”

“What?” Danny asked. 

“She’s here.”

Danny groaned. Of course. Why wouldn’t she be at the school? 

“What?” Dash asked him. Danny ignored him.

“I guess we’ll meet you guys there.”

Danny hung up and Dash tried to grab it out of his hand. Danny held the phone up in the air. “We gotta go to school.”

“What?” Dash frowned at him. “I thought we couldn’t.”

“That’s where Desiree is. We just gotta soup her up and it should undo her spells.”

Dash grumbled. “Why’d you have to get me roped up in ghostly weirdness?”

Danny rolled his eyes and started walking towards the school. “It’s not like I was trying. It just slipped out.”

Dash crossed his arms and then flinched and rubbed his elbow. “What did you do to your arm, Fenton?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Do you not remember shoving me to the ground yesterday? Did you not think it would hurt?”

Dash was quiet and pointedly ignored Danny’s gaze. 

“Just because you can’t feel it when you’re wailing on people doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. How would you feel if you got hit and it hurt so bad you had trouble moving?”

“It sucks.” 

Danny turned to look at him, his brow furrowing. It threw him off the way Dash had said that. It was like he knew. Who would be dumb enough to wail on Dash Baxter?

“Who-”

“No.” Dash shook his head and sped up so he was ahead of Danny. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Okay.” Danny looked away from him. 

He saw the school coming up ahead of them. Sam and Tucker were still standing outside the building waiting for them. 

“Hey, body swappers.” Tucker waved at them. Sam rolled her eyes. 

“Hey, Tucker.” Danny walked up to them with Dash behind him. “Can we have that tracker?”

“For sure. Here you go.” Tucker pulled the device out of his backpack and handed it to Danny. “It says she’s still somewhere around here. 

“Are you gonna be able to defeat her without your powers?” Sam asked.

“Dash has my powers.”

She pointed behind him and Danny turned. Dash had faded from sight. Then he popped back into visibility.

“We’ve defeated Desiree when my powers were out of whack.” Danny waved her comment off. “I’m sure we can do it again.” 

“Well good luck.” Sam turned towards the school. “We gotta go before we’re late.”

“Bye, thanks you guys.” Danny turned towards Dash and pulled out the tracker. “Okay now let’s see where she is.” 

Once he found her on the tracker, he was about to take a step in that direction when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“I trust you boys are on your way to class?” 

Danny and Dash turned around to look up at Mr. Lancer. 

“We, uh, we sure are.” Danny pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “Our class is just-”

“In my english classroom?” Lancer raised a brow at him. 

Dash shot Danny a look and Danny facepalmed. Mr. Lancer grabbed both of them by their wrists and started pulling them into the building and down the hallway. 

“Way to go!” Dash hissed at him. “Now what?”

Danny looked around them. He didn’t have his powers. He couldn’t phase them out. And Dash couldn’t reliably do it either.

“I guess we just have to go to our first hour.” Danny whispered. He shot Lancer another look and looked at Dash. “We have to find Desiree before he leaves.” 

“Are you boys planning on skipping your next class too?” 

“No! Mr. Lancer!” Danny straightened. “Of course not.”

“Mhm.” Mr. Lancer hummed out.

He let go of their wrists just before the classroom door and Danny debated bolting, but he knew they’d be deep in it with Lancer if he did that. 

He sighed and walked through the door to the classroom. He walked to the desks and Kwan stood up to meet him. 

“Hey, buddy!” Kwan slapped a hand on Danny’s back and he flinched. He mustered up a weak smile at the other boy and sat down in Dash’s usual spot. 

Behind him he heard someone fall to the floor and when he turned Dash was on the ground. The class burst into laughter. 

Today was going to be a long day. 

~~~~~~~

Danny sat down at his usual table in the cafeteria and let out a deep breath. It was like the teachers were on both of them all day. Neither of them had been able to slip out to find Desiree yet. Lancer must’ve emailed them to keep an eye on them. 

He heard someone else sit down and he looked up to see Sam and Tucker. 

“This is still weird, but unbelievably funny.” Tucker said as he picked up a chicken nugget.

“I can’t believe Lancer sicked the entire faculty on you guys to prevent you from leaving.” Sam pulled her lunch from her bag. 

Danny sighed, resting his head on his hand. “I know. It’s gonna make going ghost difficult if he keeps it up.” 

Then there was a commotion in the cafeteria behind them. Danny turned to see Dash standing in the middle of the cafeteria, the tray he had grabbed laying on the floor. It looked like it had been knocked out of his hands. 

Dash clenched his fists and went to push Dale but Dale shoved him to the floor. Dash winced but didn’t move to get up. 

“Come on, Fenton. What are you going to do about it?” Dale smirked. 

“Hey, lay off man.” Danny stood up and walked over, stepping in between them. Dale gave him a look.

“What’s up with you, dude? You love beating on this kid.” 

Danny turned and saw the grimace on Dash’s face. 

“Maybe it’s about time that changed. We can’t push people around for our entire lives.”

Dash’s friends exchanged looks in between them and shrugged. They gave him a couple more weird looks, except for Kwan who gave him a thumbs up, and walked back to their table. 

Danny held a hand out to Dash and he grabbed it. Danny pulled him up off the floor. They stared down at the tray on the floor. 

“Sorry about your food.” Danny said.

Dash shrugged. “You weren’t the one that did it.” 

“You can have some of my food.” Danny moved to walk back to their table. Dash sighed.

“Sure, Thanks.” Then he gasped out a breath of cold air. He shivered. “What was that?” 

“Oh, no.” Danny looked around. “That was my ghost sense.” 

He pulled out the tracker and turned it on. Which ghost was it?

The label blinked and he smiled. 

“It’s Desiree! Come on!” 

Danny grabbed Dash’s wrist and dragged him behind him out of the cafeteria. 

“Woah, what? Where are we going?” Dash asked as he tried to keep up. 

“We gotta find somewhere to hide so you can go ghost.” Danny saw a janitor’s closet and pulled it open, pushing Dash inside. 

“Go ghost?” Dash looked at his hands, no doubt picturing the jumpsuit gloves he’d been wearing earlier that day. “How do you do that?”

“Do you feel that feeling in your chest?” Danny tapped the middle of his chest, near his heart. “You kinda have to pull on it. That triggers the transformation.” 

Dash closed his hands into fists and then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and wore a concentrating expression on his face.

After a few moments, the ring appeared around his waist in a flash and traveled over his body. Left behind was Danny’s ghost form. 

Dash opened his eyes and looked down at himself. A grin appeared on his face. “Yes! I did it!” 

He floated into the air and turned on his side. His arms swung out as he tried to stabilize himself in the air. Danny righted him by his shoulders. 

“Now you gotta turn us intangible so we can go through the walls and find Desiree.” 

Danny grabbed Dash’s hand. Dash had a concentrated look on his face again and then Danny could feel the telltale feeling of intangibility washing over him. 

“Now let’s-”

Danny was cut off as Dash pulled him through the wall. He kept walking and eventually they found themselves outside the school. Desiree was floating in the air above them. 

“Hey, wishmaker!” Danny shouted. She looked down at them. 

“Ah, do you like your wish, ghost boy?”

“No!” Danny shouted up at her. “We’re here to send you back to the ghost zone.” 

“Ah, ah, ah.” She waved a finger at him. “I refuse to be forced back there by the likes of you.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

Danny jumped at Desiree and moved to punch her but she swung an arm back at him. She sent him flying into the brick wall of the school and it knocked the wind out of him. He fell to the ground and curled in on himself. 

“Hey!” Dash shouted at him from where he floated in the air. “Be careful with my body! It can’t handle getting thrown into buildings!”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Danny wheezed. His back hurt much more than if he’d hit the wall in his ghost form. 

“How do I do the blasty thing?” Dash held his hands out in front of him. A moment later an ectoray blasted out from his hands, flying towards Desiree while it sent him flying backwards. It hit her and sent her back a little. 

“How dare you!” She morphed her hand into a hammer and hit Dash with it, sending him flying away into the wall Danny was laying by. Dash groaned and stood back up. “Man getting thrown into walls hurts.” 

“Yeah, duh Dash.” 

Dash jumped into the air again and flew back towards Desiree. Danny watched them, his backpack bouncing on Dash’s back. His eyes widened. 

“Dash! The thermos is in my backpack! We need to get it out!” 

“On it!” Dash took off the backpack and went to unzip it when Desiree transformed her hand into a lasso this time. She looped it around Dash’s waist and yanked him back and forth until the backpack flew from his hands. It landed a couple feet away from Danny. 

He stood up and groaned when pain radiated from his back but he made his way to his backpack. Unzipping it, he rummaged around until his hand touched the thermos and he grabbed onto it. 

Pulling it out, he uncapped it. 

“I wish Desiree was inside this thermos!” 

“Noooooo!” 

Desiree was sucked into the thermos’ blue beam. Her yells faded as she disappeared inside it. Dash landed on the ground next to him. 

“That’s a lame way to end a battle.” 

Then Danny had a splitting headache and his head started spinning. He grabbed his head with his hands and waited for the world to stop spinning. As it faded, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Dash standing in front of him. 

Dash was standing in front of him?

Danny laughed and looked at his arms. 

“Yes! Everything’s back to normal!” 

Dash opened his eyes and lowered his arms. He smiled and shook Danny by his shoulder.

“We did it! The ghost fighting part was actually kind of cool.” 

Danny wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, except for when it interferes with almost every part of my life. I always have to drop everything to go fight a ghost.” 

“Yeah. Especially when you have assholes to deal with at school.” 

They stood there awkwardly and Danny scuffed his boot against the floor. “Are you going to go back to wailing on me?”

Dash looked at the ground and shook his head. “My friends would wonder why I defended you and went back on my word if I did that. And I can’t keep wailing on you knowing that I’m wailing on my hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks. I’m glad those are your only reasons.” 

Dash looked up at him. “It also reminded me how I don’t want to be my dad.” Dash shuffled his feet. “Picking on people makes me feel powerful, but what’s more powerful is to not be like him.”

Danny nodded and smiled softly. He nudged Dash’s arm with his elbow. “That it is. Break the cycle.” 

Danny transformed back into his human form and grabbed the thermos from Dash’s hand and picked his backpack up. He shouldered it just as he heard the bell ring. 

“I guess we better get back to class.” Danny sighed. “So much for eating.” 

“We could go to the Nasty Burger after school?” Dash rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, if you want.”

Danny smiled at him. It wouldn’t be perfect, but it’d be a good start to mending things. 

“Yeah, that’d be cool.” 

[aryomengrande]

aryomengrande’s 127 squad (2023 division) ᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ

2024 division →

i reached my favorite milestone last year which is 127 (it’s also my angel number ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝) but hardly had time to make this. i planned to post this by january 27 (which is 1/27) but didn’t finish it on time but ig today is fine (02/07). basically, these are the characters featured in my top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts here on tumblr last year—seishu inui taking the 1st place, kokonoi hajime in 2nd place, and kakucho in 7th place. i really enjoyed making these, so i’ll do this every year except i’ll pick the top 1, 2, and 7 most liked posts across all my platforms instead of just tumblr. all of these reference nct 127’s albums (for those who aren’t familiar, nct 127 is a subunit of the kpop group nct), and i will continue to do so to uphold the 127 tradition (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ* thank u to my 127+ followers and thank u to everyone who showed these posts a lot of love ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ stoked to see which ones place 1st, 2nd, and 7th place this year ! ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

more details about these pieces under the cut (bc i’m a detail whore)

the album reference for inupi is neozone (n ver.). i changed the yellow into a warmer tone that’s closer to toman’s golden yellow.

i switched the nct 127 emblem into a shape that resembles a basketball bc inupi’s special skill is ball games. i also changed it to the 1st album (instead of 2nd album) to reference his top spot as my most liked post last year.

the member i used for reference for inupi and koko is lee taeyong bc ‘yong’ in korean means ‘dragon’ and both inupi and koko are part of black dragons. inupi’s drip is taeyong’s drip in nct 127’s single ‘kick it’ from the neozone album.

the album reference for koko is sticker (sticker ver.). i also changed the album order from 3rd album to 2nd album to reference him being second to inupi as the most liked post here on tumblr. i picked sticker for koko bc bro rly stuck w inupi through thick and thin. like a stickaaa stickaaa *insert whistle tones* lmao

the numbers in the barcode are the number of likes he got from each platform—215 upvotes from reddit, 269 likes from tiktok, 577 likes on tumblr, 2.2k likes on twitter/x, a total of 3261 likes.

and finally, the album reference for kakucho is fact check (storage ver.). kakucho my beloved, the brawler, is canonically a prodigy who can even go up against the invincible mikey. don’t believe me? check the facts go check that!! (¬◾_◾) i also changed the album order from 5th album to 7th album in line with kakucho being featured in my top 7 most liked post here.

the reference for kakucho is jung jaehyun in ‘fact check’; his drip kinda resembles kaku’s tenjiku’s uniform, the pants specifically.

i switched the vault safe door into a metallic yin yang to reference tenjiku’s emblem and i also like that the storage version of fact check is grey, which is his image color! ⋆˙⟡♡

[bby-blu-swirll]

" i know that you got daddy issues, and i do too " - todoroki x reader

it's not a song fic i just have a really messed up relationship with my dad lol - i don't have a lot of direction for this, it's just a little lazy & venty,, we'll see where it goes ♡

it was one of those nights where 1-a was all tired from the long school week, but not enough to fall asleep. they happened every once in a while, and always resulted in the majority of the class hanging out together in the common area doing whatever together until they all crashed for the evening.

the open downstairs was filled with the sound of idle conversation and super smash bros, but most of everyone's attention on the ladder. it started with just the bakusquad, but once katsuki ran undefeated, almost everyone else in the class took it upon themselves to try and overthrow the king. so far, nobody was successful. ururaka came close, but to no avail. she took the defeat like a champ, though.

while most everyone huddled around the tv, yelling things like "KICK HIS ASS" and "SHUT UP YOU BASTARD I'M TRYING TO FOCUS" (yeah), there were a few who had strayed from the pack. tokoyami and shoji were over by the dining tables playing a game of chess, and kouda was reading a book on a couch off to the side, using his classmates as white noise.

and then there was you.

you were settled on top of the kitchen island, legs crossed, with one earbud in. it wasn't that you didn't want to be around your friends, you had grown slightly overstimulated and needed a moment to recollect your thoughts.

you rolled a lollipop of your favorite flavor around in your mouth, absentmindedly scrolling through pinterest. your mind was on anything but aesthetically pleasing pictures, brows furrowed as your thoughts wandered back to your family. you sighed and squeezed your phone for a moment before turning it off and setting it down next to you. you just needed to distract yourself. something more.

in that moment, one of your classmates strolled into the kitchen. you looked up at todoroki, who was holding an empty mug.

"hey," he smiled at you softly as he made his way over to the stove. "what are you still doing in here?"

"ah, iida hasn't noticed me sitting on the countertop yet." you chuckled at your own joke, feeling the smallest butterflies when he grinned back at you. "what about you?"

"just getting a refill." he said, picking up the kettle of tea momo had put on earlier (omg.) and filling his mug. "and checking on you."

"oh-" you looked up at him in surprise, cocking your head to the side slightly. "really? for why?"

"you didn't look like you were doing too well earlier." he said bluntly, leaning against the counter facing you and taking a sip of his drink.

"ah... yeah," you looked away and laughed awkwardly, playing with your rings.

"are you?"

"am i what?"

when you turned to look back at him, his expression had changed. less neutral, more... worried. compassionate.

"are you not doing well?"

you opened your mouth to say something. "i'm fine, thank you though!" was was you had always answered with. you were tired, or you were just zoning out, anything but not okay. yet the way he looked at you made you hesitate. saying you were doing just fine was so second nature, but it was almost hard to lie to him.

before you could actually answer, your phone started to buzz softly. you both turned your attention to it, reading the name in the caller id line.

"dad"

you bit your lip and furrowed your brow. it continued to vibrate in your hand a few more times, before you declined the call. you quickly set your phone down and looked straight ahead. you have no idea why, but your eyes began to water. you took a shaky deep breath, and made an attempt to spell out your thoughts, something you learned earlier in life to help keep from crying.

"y/n..." todoroki set down his mug and took a step towards you, carefully.

"hmm?" your voice was tight as you avoided eye contact, trying to keep from blinking, afraid it would push a tear out.

you took on last deep breath and spelled out one last phrase, before you felt your eyes finally dry. you sighed and put your lollipop back in your mouth, facing him with a smile like nothing had happened.

"i see."

you cocked your head to the side in confusion, watching as he pulled himself up onto the counter and sitting across from you. you pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin atop them. he noted your look of curiosity and held out a hand to you. you hesitated for a moment before carefully placing your fingers to his palm. he shifted until he was sitting close, holding your hand in his, tracing over your bones and knuckles softly, fiddling with your rings.

"i understand, i mean. i think." his voice was low and soft. anyone standing further than a few feet away would have a hard time hearing him. "whatever your reason for ignoring that call, whyever you did it... i've got dozens of calls from my old man i never bothered to pick up."

when you looked up at him, you saw his eyes glues to your fingers tangled with his. he touched your hands so delicately, as if you were made of glass. he was so full of care. his touch, the way he looked at you, all of it. it was all so full of the most tender affection.

"you don't need to talk about it, if you don't want to. God knows it took me forever to open up to midoriya," he smiled a bit. "i just wanted you to know the offer is out there, if you need it."

you bit down on your lollipop to try and hide how big that'd made you smile. the second you opened your mouth to say something, you heard iida begin to raise his voice, something about curfew and going to bed.

both you and todoroki turned to see him coming into the kitchen, stiffening when he notices you.

"both of you should get off the counter right now! this is living space, for goodness sake! and still school property."

you chuckled and waved a hand at him, already climbing off. "alright, class rep, don't get your panties in a twist. we're going." you tossed your sucker in the bin as todoroki stepped onto the floor, too.

"good. now get some good rest tonight, we've all had a long week and you've earned it. sleep well, both of you."

"you too, iida."

you and todoroki offered him tired smiles as you made your way past him to the elevator. when you got inside, you practically collapsed against the wall with an exasperated sigh. todoroki went ahead and pushed the button for his floor, but not yours. you didn't question it, maybe he'd forgotten. so instead, you pushed yourself off the wall and moved towards the panel. your outstretched hand halted to a stop when you felt arms wrap around your torso. before you could turn, you felt todoroki's nose nuzzle into your neck. he took a deep breath that made you shiver.

"come over, to my room. we can talk. or not. i can distract you, do whatever you want. i'm not tired yet."

feeling his breath on your skin practically made your heart leap into your throat. you stood, frozen for a moment, gasping softly when his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. you wondered if he could feel your heart beating, with how close he was to your main pulse points. his lips, so close...

you leaned back into him and put your hands over his, wrapped around your waist. "yeah... me neither."

you could practically feel him smile as another small exhale of his grazed your neck, making you shiver. "i'll play with your hair if you want, play with your fingers... just hold you."

as if his words hadn't already done it, you practically melted in his hands when his lips pressed against your neck for a long second. you hummed in response, blushing furiously.

"just relax pretty girl, i promise i'll be there for you however you need me."

idk man its wtv !

i'm officially out of ideas right now, requests are open to anybody, feel free to be as specific or detailed or even vague as you like and please please please don't be shy <33

i love you sm okay bye !!

[justpuppylove]

HIII WELCOME BACKK!! WE MISSED YOU!! NOW IM GONNA NEED MORE OF THAT STEP BRO WILBUR MHM MHM 🤭

Sh~ Stepbrother Wilbur soot smut

Stepbro!WilburSoot x afab reader smut

Kinks/warnings: Stepcest [PLEASE DONT FUCK YOUR STEP-SIBLINGS OR PARENTS. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS.], degrading, begging, marking

A/N: HIIIII AND OFC :3

If you were completely honest, you didn’t like Wilbur. Your mom started dating your stepdad and after about a year he moved in, he brought Wilbur with him. Wilbur was honestly kind of a prick, he always made such snarky comments and was always teasing you. You always had to put up with him, especially on holidays and for special events. It just so happens that your mom and stepdad wanted to go on a date, and Wilbur decided to come bother you.

“What’s up dickheadddd” Wilbur says as he busts into your room. You let out a gasp and jump a bit, not expecting him to just barge in. You roll your eyes, “What is it Wilbur, don’t you have anything better to do?” Wilbur looks at you with a stupid smirk on his face. “What? Can’t I hang out with my favorite sibling?” He asks as he walks over to your bed where you’re sitting. He towers over you as he looks down. You feel a bit flustered as you look away; avoiding eye contact. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “You’re not blushing, are you?” He asks as he studies your face, that dumb smirk still plastered across his face. “What? No.. of course not, dumbass.” You respond as you shove your face away from his hand. “Awe you are, admit it” he says, placing his leg on the bed as he partially climbs on top of you. You feel your face heat up as he positions himself over you. You keep quiet as Wilbur grabs your face once more. “Admit it.” He says as he slightly squeezes your face. “Fine. Yes, I am.” You say as you look up at him reluctantly.

He moves himself over top of you as he moves his hand from your face to your neck. He kisses you and you feel yourself melt into his touch, you’re a bit surprised but you let it happen. His hand moves down your body and you spread your legs open, inviting him in. He smirks against your lips as he sees how needy you are. “You’re such a slut” his words ring through your ears as his hand meets with your core. You still had your shorts on but you were soaking wet. Wilbur was obviously quite surprised by this, he teases you by trailing his fingers over your shorts; making you whine. “You’ve needed me so bad hm?” He asks teasingly, all you can do is nod. “You don’t even care that I’m your stepbrother?” He asks as he slides your shorts off and takes off his shirt. You trace his muscles with your eyes, not paying attention to his questions as he unbuttons his pants. His bulge is very apparent against his boxers as he kisses your neck. He fingers once again meeting your core. He slowly pushes his fingers in, which causes you to let out a moan. You grab the back of Wilbur’s head, your fingers combing through his hair, as he leaves a hickey on your neck.

He lines himself up with your entrance, tapping his hard dick onto your pussy. He slides himself up and down your wetness as you get needier. “Please just fuck me” you say as Wilbur looks down at you. “How bad do you want it?” Wilbur says, wanting you to beg. You almost let out a scoff before realizing that would just postpone your pleasure even more, “Please~ I need you so bad. I need you to fuck me Will” you say pleadingly. Wilbur seems pleased with your response because he slowly slides into you. You let out a whine as you try to adjust to his length. “Sh~ I know baby” he says as he gives you a second to get used to him. He starts slowly moving inside of you, letting out a few groans as you clench around him. After hearing your moans he speeds up and begins slamming into you roughly. “Fuck~ Wilbur~” you moan out between whines. “Yeah? You like that?” He says as he slams into you, making the bed hit the wall. He lifts your legs up over his shoulders and grabs your hips, his nails pressing into your thighs. “Such a dirty slut~” he says, you clench around him as you hear his words. As he feels this he moves one of his hands to your clit, skillful circling it. “Please~ can I please cum~” you beg Wilbur as he continues slamming into you. “Cum for me, only I can make you feel this good.” Wilbur says, possessiveness swimming in his tone. Once you get permission you feel yourself release on Wilbur’s dick, your clit throbbing as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. “Ah~ Wilbur~” you moan out, gripping onto his wrists. His grip on you tightens more as he slams into you even harder. With a few more thrusts his seed spills out onto you.

You both pant a bit as you come down from your highs. Wilbur cleans you both up and helps you put your clothes back on. You both settle into your bed together and turn on your tv. You both watch some movies together before Wilbur gets a message from his dad. “They’re coming home..” he says, “you should do something about that.” he finishes as his eyes dart to the huge hickey on your neck. Your face heats up as you scatter to the bathroom.

[lol-jackles]

I was pursuing your “Destiel” tag (thank you for posting it for that anon, btw, and bringing it back to my attention), and came across this statement from you:

“As a result, douchy Jensen + going off script = other actors trying to cope. My favorite was 2016 because that was when my girlfriend leaned close to the screen and said, "Jared, blink twice if you're being held against your will". Since then Jared had figured out how to handle these ~unscripted~ moments, but Misha hasn't.”

What was the moment in particular at 2016 JIB that made your girlfriend say that? Or what was Jensen going at that one? Wasn’t Gen at that one, too?

Also, what would you say Jared’s strategy has been in dealing with Jensen (when drunk) on stage at JIB? And why does Jensen seem “meaner” to Jared at JIB than at CE or AHBL cons? Which is closer to thier actual dynamic, do you think?

And I just have to add, it was pretty amusing seeing Misha momentarily (sadly not longer) regret his life choices at, was it 2019 JIB, where he pointed out the Destiel shirt and Jensen yelled about “where is it real?” Do you think Jensen was actually annoyed in this panel? I say yes, but my brother says no.

Jensen seems to keep it together more at JIBs post pandemic, but I was at JIB 13, and he gave off a huge air of just being over the whole thing by his solo Sunday panel. And he and Rich were essentially running out the clock by being loud idiots (my ears still hurt from being near a speaker).

They all claim to love JIB, but they also all seem pretty over it come Sunday.

Sorry that got long. Would love to see your response to any parts.

This was the first time I briefly talked about the infamous Jib con. Back in 2016 I used to think their co/dependent friendship was doomed at the 10-year mark because when one isn’t adjusting to the changing time, then the idolatries friendship can’t last more than 10 years at best.  I listed a few examples (X) from a feminist blog about women ending their female friendships, a woman ending her friendship with a male friend (X) Oliver Broudy’s story of ending his 10-year friendship with a college friend (X).  These friendships ended because one of them was stuck and making more and more demands on the unstuck friend.  We know happened after season 10 wrapped up (X) (X).

Anyways, what got my girlfriend's attention was Jared looking like a tug of war rope between Gen and Jensen and the boys. Regular corporate SPN cons in the U.S are already a male-dominated atmosphere bordering on frat boy shenanigans. At least there are corporate handlers and security to help keep the actors in line, plus alcohol are banned for actors. Jib cons are fan-run with no handlers and alcohol are allowed, and usually there are no actresses because the cost of the extra Jensen/Misha and Jared/Misha panels means some actors are going to get cut out and it’s usually the actresses. Without female colleagues around, the men really rile each other up at Jib cons, it’s part of their bonding and one-upmanship rituals. I think why Gen rarely participated in SPN cons is because she didn't want to be around all that dude energy. But 2016 was different because I think she blamed herself for leaving the 2015 British con early and is still traumatize that she nearly lost Jared few days later, so Gen agreed to let Jared drag bring her to Jib con. Men don’t like wives/girlfriends homing in on their bro times and Jensen was noticeable irritated that Jared’s wife was there and during the closing ceremony Jensen used air quotations marks while talking about Gen’s marriage to Jared who had his arms wrapped around her. He looked peeved at Jensen and then then laughed it off because what else could he do on stage?

(Side note: it’s not easy for men to find male friends and keeping them.  I hated the movie I love you, man because it was too familiar, and Paterson made me uneasy because Adam Driver's character has no male friends and he's more than okay with that because he has a wife.)

Jensen seems "meaner" not just to Jared but to every actor there, especially Misha. At these fan-run conventions, there are no "scripts" (guidelines actually) to follow. Most actors were still going by the guidelines from corporate-run conventions when they're on stage, but not Jensen because it's part of his upmanship as a way to both bond and dominate others. It's a Ryan Seacrest and Brian Dunkleman type situation. Maybe Jensen learned this trick from Ryan who used to be his roommate. Misha is not a natural improviser, his guest appearance on Whose Line Is it Anyways shows that, so he's the least apt at handling Jensen's off script moments. Half the time Jensen wasn't actually drunk but acts like it to avoid the inevitable asinine Destiel-loaded questions from the hellers in the audience.

Jared's strategy was about the same at pre-2016 JIB cons and CE cons because he's pretty apt at smoothing things over between Jensen and the fans. At the infamous 2013 New Jersey con a self-claiming bisexual girl tried to ask Jensen a loaded Destiel question and he snapped at her with, “don’t ruin it for everybody” and Jared immediately calmed Jensen down and salvaged the rest of the experience for sane fans.

Stuff like this is closer to their real life dynamic as the Giver and the Taker. If you read the "codependency tag", Jared the Giver cleans up the messes the Taker make. Givers think they're helping but they're actually enabling and don't improve things. Jensen's reputation took a slight hit, and it took a few years for the New Jersey con to be memory-holed. Apparently Jensen didn't learn from this and 3 years later mocked a girl wearing a "Destiel is real" shirt at the 2019 JIB. Misha told Jensen to not “fight with fans” and Jared was gesturing to a fan in the front row as if saying don’t look at me look at him. That may answer your question, Jared stopped trying to calm Jensen down and instead focus on heading off fans who gets too snippy at Jensen, like at a DC con few years back where a girl was trying to look cool but came off sounding hostile towards Jensen, so Jared left the stage and hugged the stuffings out of the girl, deflating her hostile-sounding voice.

I don't think I've seen Jensen's solo panel at JIB13, but he's usually looks like he's watching the clock during his Jared-less panels so that's nothing new. It's been the case for many years and a common complaint by fans, it's why CE stopped having solo J panels early on because Jensen needs a scene partner. It goes back to why Jensen works better as a scene-stealing supporting actor instead of a leading man. How Jensen made Dean Winchester have memorable moments was by putting his focus on the other person.  By using this method, Jensen can stop worrying about how he’s going to say his lines and speak intuitively, this helps make Dean appear truthful to the audience.  It may be why Jensen doesn’t read scripts ahead of time.   Jensen doesn’t go into a scene looking to do a scene, instead he goes in looking to be open and give over to how the other person (in this case, Jared playing Sam) makes him feel.  This method worked great for Jensen when his character has Sam to focus on, and Jensen has Jared to react to.  It’s why Dean’s dying moments with Sam in the barn works so well in the series’ finale.

.

You probably heard of the saying, “acting is reacting”.

A demon’s acting philosophy in The Good Place: “Demons have to learn that Acting Is Reacting.  And Reacting Is Pre-acting. But Pre-acting? Well, that’s just being.”  

While “acting is reacting” gets mocked in the acting community because it’s a trap alot of actors fall into by adjusting their truthful inner life to their assumptions about the text.  Good acting is adjusting the text to your authentic emotion which is the result of the other person.  This where Jensen’s good acting comes from and it’s become his comfort zone and made him a multimillionaire by his mid 30s.  He’s in what my acting coach calls “the truthful contact”, it’s where actors are taught the first stage of authentic acting.  The next stage is “crafting”.  When you’re working solo without a screen partner, your skill at crafting becomes vital.  Crafting means anywhere from ability to endow meaning to objects so they have emotional meaning is important, or effectively get across justifications and point of views.  

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 19)

au masterlist

notes: this is late and short and i apologize for that! i’ve had such a busy few days

y/ndevils00

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, and 462,921 others

y/ndevils00 WE WON!! WE ACTUALLY WON!!

i mean… yeah, it’s cool, we won.

with the return of my absolute favorite captain (sorry Quinnifer), the devilish whores won 7-2 against the swords!

we kicked off the scoring just a minute and a half into the first with a goal from Holtzy, and almost 10 minutes later, got a goal from uncle Toffee to give us a 2-0 lead!

but that’s not all! just 4 minutes later, captain slut got his first goal back!! GO NICOLAS!!! and in true boyfriends fashion, he acquired his first goal back the same way that Jacky did; on his first game back, in the first period of the game, with a goal that had to be confirmed by officials that it was a good goal! how utterly boyfriends of them! they definitely planned that!

and to end first period, we got yet another EVEN strength goal (no power play goals yet here!) from Pally Pocket!! giving us a FOUR goal lead on those bitches from buffalo!

in second period we got yet another goal from Tyler the creator, just 2 minutes in! bringing the score to 5-1! thank you, queen! and then the rest of that period was boring af

BUT THIRD PERIOD! OH I LOVED THIRD PERIOD! we opened that period and made it our bitch with a goal from MY best friend in the whole big wide world, Dawg-son Mercer!! EVERYBODY CHEER! WOOOOO!!! (with an assist from my lovely pain in the ass, babygirl!)

AND LASTLY, WITH OUR ONE AND ONLY POWER PLAY GOAL, WE HAVE MY (hopefully) FUTURE LITTLE BROTHER, LUKEY ‘SMUSH’ HUGHES!!! LET’S GO, BABY HUGHES!! SHOW ‘EM WHAT YOU’RE MADE OF!!

i’ll see you guys on tuesday after we play the long island iced teas!

tagged holtz_10, tofff73, nicohischier, pally_18, jackhughes, dawson1417, and lhughes_06

Load more comments

john.marino97 i don’t even get my own pic tonight?

y/ndevils00 i only have so many spots Jonathan! what am i supposed to do, you didn’t score a goal! do you want me to just take someone’s pic away to fit you in?!

john.marino97 1. not my name. 2. yes

y/ndevils00 NO! stop being greedy— jesus you’re like a stray cat, i feed you love once and you never leave me alone again

john.marino97 one could argue that you’re actually the stray cat

y/ndevils00 am i the one begging for your love right now? no!

john.marino97 i could post a photo of what you’re doing right now and it would suggest otherwise…

user29 what’s she doing right now?!

lhughes_06 @/user29 john is giving her a piggyback ride throughout the empty arena because she wouldn’t leave him alone

jackhughes how tf did you get the last picture from the press box?

y/ndevils00 ✨zoom✨

jackhughes well i need you to ✨zoom✨ out and stop camera stalking me while i’m on the bench. WATCH THE GAME.

y/ndevils00 don’t tell me what to do?

jackhughes you’re right, i’m sorry for telling you to do your job

y/ndevils00 you should be. thank you!

nicohischier you called me anything but my name

y/ndevils00 obviously? do you not see my gag here Nicole?

nicohischier i see it, i hate it, i ask you to do better

y/ndevils00 HEY DON’T TAKE MY LINE!

nicohischier too late. took it. made it my own.

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes PUT YOUR BITCH ON A LEASH

jackhughes but you’re my bitch?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes take that back right now

jackhughes or what?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes or i’ll tell Sid?

jackhughes consider it unsaid 🫡

user01 NICO AND LUKE GOALS AND WE WON

user63 “bitches from buffalo” is how i’ll be referring to them now tysm

holtz_10 please leave me out of this

y/ndevils00 you’re part of the team, are you not? you’re briefly photographed and mentioned just shut up and say thank you

holtz_10 for what? you didn’t even congratulate me

john.marino97 bro, it’s not worth the fight, just say it

holtz_10 thank you?

y/ndevils00 you’re welcome, swedish meatball!

tofff73 thank you and you’re welcome, queen!

y/ndevils00 TAKE NOTES PEOPLE! THIS IS WHAT YOU DO!

dawson1417 you’ve been here for like 2 months and you already make the rest of us look bad, Toff

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 you could NEVER look bad to me, honey bun! the others, however, could use some work

lhughes_06 i’ll be your future brother if i have any say in it

jackhughes but you DON’T have any say in it?

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes that’s what YOU think

jackhughes i- what does that even mean?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes wouldn’t you like to know

jackhughes i’m pretty sure YOU don’t even know

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes you can’t prove that (i don’t)

dawson1417 CHEERING!! WOOOO!!! YAY ME!!

y/ndevils00 alright london tipton, let’s tone it down a little before somebody thinks you’re conceited

dawson1417 you’re right, sorry, GO TEAM!

y/ndevils00 there we go!! (we can cheer for just you off insta! nobody else matters!)

dawson1417 can we go out for drinks to celebrate me?

y/ndevils00 are you buying?

dawson1417 sure?

y/ndevils00 then ABSOLUTELY!!

user87 so are we just gonna breeze past “Pally pocket” … like polly pocket?

y/ndevils00 i liked to chew on the clothes <3

jackhughes i’m concerned for your well being

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes you keep me sane 🥰

jackhughes well it’s a lot of work and i don’t think i’m doing a very good job