#but just knowing they're around again is crumbling everything in my brain

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

why the fuck right now. why ever actually..

[woso-dreamzzz]

Snap

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: It's all Leah can hear

The snap is what Leah hears and the snap is what Leah hears only.

She can't hear your scream. She can't hear the yelling from the crowd. She can't hear anything as that snap echoes around her brain.

The North London derby was always this kind of scrappy. Everyone expected it. Everyone looked forward to it.

More yellow cards flew for both teams than probably any other fixture.

Tackles always held a little bit more passion, a little bit more aggression than usual.

But not like this.

Never like this.

No one ever wanted it to be like this.

Leah can do nothing but stare. It feels like minutes, time slowing down around her as she watches. It can't have been more than seconds.

It's not her that makes the tackle. It's some new academy girl that's been called up to replace an injured teammate.

Leah can't quite recall her name but she goes in for the tackle, studs up.

Studs up and not even aiming for the ball.

And not even for your ankle either.

She goes in for your leg and your crumble under the force of it.

Leah doesn't know if the rest of the stadium heard the snap but she certainly did.

She heard the snap.

It was all she could hear.

Chaos erupts from everyone - teams, staff, supporters - but Leah can't hear any of it.

You're on the ground, face split open in a scream that she can't hear, tears dripping down your face as you clutch as your bloodied leg.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Stop moving. Stop moving."

Leah can't remember when she moved. She can't remember shoving past your Spurs teammates and getting on her knees to hold your head still.

"Baby, I know it hurts. I know but you just have to stay still. It could be worse than we think. Alright, stay still for me."

You suck in a breath. "L-Leah," You croak out, voice cracked and quiet," It hurts."

"I know," Leah says, feeling panicked as she glances over to the side lines, watching as the medics run on," I know, baby. I know. It'll all be better soon. Just hang on."

Everything still feels like slow motion to Leah, panic clawing at her consciousness.

You try to move your head again, to look at your leg but Leah's hands are clamped tightly around you.

"You-You don't want to see it," She says," Trust me, baby."

"I...Leah, it hurts. It hurts so bad."

"I know," It's all Leah can say, all she can do to keep you calm," I know, baby. But it'll be over soon. The medics are just coming."

She's right, of course and in any other circumstance, she would brag endlessly about it, about being right.

But not now.

Not with you injured and your leg very clearly broken and bloody.

One of the medics gives you a green whistle that you suck on generously before you're loaded up on the stretcher.

That academy player gets a red card and Leah doesn't even care that they're down to ten on the pitch and the open gap next to her is what leads to Spurs equalising and the derby ending in a draw.

"What was up with you and l/n?" Katie asks in the locker room," I didn't know you two were friends."

Leah changes quickly, not even bothering to shower when it means spending more time away from your bedside.

"We're not friends," She replies, throwing her boots into her bag and unplugging her phone charger.

"Really?" Katie says in disbelief," You guys looked so close when she got injured. You wouldn't leave her side."

"She's not my friend," Leah says bluntly," Because she's my girlfriend who is now in hospital after a stupid, reckless-"

"Leah," Kim cuts in, glancing over to the showers where the academy girl has been inside since her red card nearly half an hour ago ," Go and see her. I'm sure she's waiting for you."

Leah cuts off her oncoming rant, zipping up her bag angrily before storming out.

Her hands clench her steering wheel tightly as she drives, only stopping off once to grab some snacks and some flowers.

"Hey," You say as she walks into your hospital room," Oh, Leah, they're beautiful."

You take the flowers from her as she dips down to give you a kiss.

"I was worried about you," Leah says, glancing down at your leg," How bad?"

"A clean break," You reply," So just a cast and no surgery. The blood made it look worse than it is. I'll be okay."

"Are you sure?" Leah asks," You can tell me. You don't have to try and save my feelings."

"I promise," You say," It's all okay. Nothing too bad."

"Definitely?" Leah checks," You're not trying to stop me stressing?"

"Definitely," You agree with a little laugh," Nothing too bad. Nothing to stress about."

Leah blows out air noisily, finally relaxing in the stupid plastic chair by your bedside.

"Now," You say," Did Spurs equalise?"

Leah groans.

[tojigasm]

What Is and What Should Never Be

Authors note: Here is the long waited Sam Worthington fic <33. im very proud of this one, so enjoy my sexy hotties ♡

Warnings: nsfw 18+, minors dni, fem reader, fluff, a smidge of angst, Sam is very dilf daddy in this, pet names, gentle love

Synopsis:

"Y/n?" Sam's looking at you. Baby blues worn with worry and brows furrowed. He strokes his thumbs over your jaw, gently prying your lip from your teeth, "where'd you go, sweetheart?"

You search his eyes for a moment. Deciding whether or not to tell him the truth. To tell him you'd done specifically what he'd asked you not to do. Tell him you'd spent hours only earlier that day scrolling through comments and articles, searching for the worst one just to have it wrap around your brain for the rest of your life. Tell him you'd needed something to balance the ache.

You sift your hand through the thick tufts of roan, sighing into the cool air of your room.

"Know you're the only girl fr'me, right, hon?" Sam whispers from beneath you. You run your fingers along the bristles of his beard.

"Yes, I know." You whisper back, letting him kiss up the skin of your collar.

Can't help but think back to the articles you'd read earlier that day, 'Avatar star, Sam Worthington in LA with young nobody', 'who is she?', 'Is this start of Worthington's stardom decline?'

The words ring out in your mind as Sam presses kisses to your jaw, planting his chin to your chest when he realizes you're not quite all there anymore.

Your mind wanders to the comments you can recall, "surely they're just friends, he wouldn't date someone out of his league." "She doesn't deserve him like I do." "Praying they break up." "She's not as pretty as I had expect–"

"Y/n?"

Sam's looking up at you. You hadn't realized you'd dug your nails into the thick of his shoulder so tightly small crescents lay in the wake of your hand.

"Sorry," you whisper, "I don't know what's up with me."

He doesn't say anything for a moment. Mulling over his words before he settles on a gentle, "Everything okay, sweetheart?"

You shrug, letting yourself fall into his lap rather clumsily. "Guess m'just not in the mood," you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, pressing and tearing at the plush of it. "M'sorry."

"S'okay, baby," Sam rests his hand at the base of your neck, thumbing at your skin gently.

The pull and push of his hand on your neck sends a soothing warmth throughout your body, and you're suddenly reminded of the knavish comments once again. The words bleed and rot into your mind like a dead weed, infecting and throbbing and piercing your mind like a dying root and it—

"Y/n?" Sam's looking at you. Baby blues worn with worry and brows furrowed. He strokes his thumbs over your jaw, gently prying your lip from your teeth, "where'd you go, sweetheart?"

You search his eyes for a moment. Deciding whether or not to tell him the truth. To tell him you'd done specifically what he'd asked you not to do. Tell him you'd spent hours only earlier that day scrolling through comments and articles, searching for the worst one just to have it wrap around your brain for the rest of your life. Tell him you'd needed something to balance the ache.

"I–" the confession slips past your lips in a defeated sigh. The thick of it choking at the back of your throat with a sickly tease.

You tell him the truth, and he listens, nodding along to your broken and shattered words. And when your voice cracks and turns wet and you crumble in his arms, he holds you.

There's a long pause of silence, comforted by a rough hand soothing the top of your head and shoulders. You bite at your finger pad until it burns.

"Feel like they can hear me. Like they can see everything I do." You whisper, "I feel so alone."

You'd remembered what your parents, your friends had told you when you'd first told them you were dating Sam. The mixed reactions weigh heavy in your mind some nights.

"He's famous, y/n. You know how it is." "Just don't let the fame go to your head." "Well, it's not gonna be easy."

Sam running the back of his knuckles over your cheek softly brings you back to your room. Your room with your pink sheets and your movie posters. Your room with your flower vase full of lily's Sam had bought you and your vanity with white wood that's been chipping away.

"I don't wanna feel this way anymore." You speak into the cool air.

"I know, honey." Sam whispers, massaging his hand into your hip.

"Make me feel better," you whisper, "Please, just make me forget."

Sam stops his hand and doesn't say anything.

You let a few moments pass before sitting up, looking at him from over your shoulder. Your lashes are strung together with tears, and your cheeks are hot.

Sam watches you, carefully lifting his hand to run the pad of his thumb over the swell of your bottom lip.

"Can I kiss you?" He speaks softly.

"Please," you choke, crawling into his lap.

His hands wrap around your waist, squeezing at the plush of your ass and hips. He kisses up the bow of your chest, biting and nipping small marks into your soft skin.

"Sam." Chills rush over your skin.

"Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me," you drop your head to the side, letting Sam kiss up the collum of your neck, "wanna forget everything n'just feel you. I don't want to think." You pull back to kiss him, "think for me."

You trail down the skin of his neck to his shoulder, biting at his freckled skin and leaving flushes of pink in your wake.

Sam adjusts beneath you, slipping his hand between your thighs to flick your clit before sliding two fingers into your tight cunt.

Your breath hitches at the stretch, and you let your head roll back, sighing into the chilled air. You find purchase in his shoulders, digging your freshly manicured nails into his skin, tracing the pads of your fingers over the indents from your teeth.

"What do you like about me?" Your voice wavers – somewhere in between lost and held. You can't calm down, yet you find solace in the violence rapt of his fingers curling against your gummy walls.

Sam groans into the soft of your breast, licking a stripe along chest to your collar.

"I like your eyes," he kisses your nipple, pulling it between his teeth gently, "I like your lips," he kisses your ribs, "I like your hair," his thumb circles your clit, "I like your voice–"

"Need you," you whimper, voice so soft he thinks it might crack and shatter in the frigid air of the room.

Sam nods, letting you straddle him as he sits on the foot of your bed. He guides you to take him in full, sinking onto his length as he holds you to him.

The stretch aches and you tip your head back at the pleasure, nearly slipping from Sam's grasp before he pulls you back. He cups your head to his shoulder, helping to guide your hips back and forth along his thick thighs.

"Feel so good," he whispers, planting sloppy kisses along the ridge of your shoulder.

You pant through wavered breaths into his neck, working to soothe at the bruising tip of his cock that presses at your cervix.

"You feel okay, sweetheart?" Sam pulls you back by the neck, forcing you to meet his eyes. The baby blues seeped into a much richer navy, pupils blown wide.

"Yes," you nod through a watery choke and he moves to tuck you into his shoulder again, "S'okay."

Sam nods, cupping your wrists in one hand to hold behind your back as he massages his grip on your waist. His fingers dig into the plush of your hips, leaving tender heat in their leave.

"Tell me what you need," he kisses the length of your jaw when you tip your head back again.

Shaking your head, you roll your hips upward to bask in the stretch of his veiny girth. You can feel him run along your walls in such a way that sends your lashes fluttering.

"Wanna cum," your voice is flat.

"Don't be a brat." Sam's tone deepens. He knows what you need, whether you'll tell him or not. Knows you need to be told what to do. Knows in the way you cower away at the thought, the thought of – "m'gonna let you try again."

You peak an eye open, looking him up and down before letting your eyes fall shut again.

"Wanna be told what to do forever," You admit, "I don't wanna think – don't want to think about the stupid articles and comments and things they – ah! – things they say."

"Then let me do the work." Sam nods to you, brows cinching before you're falling into his arms again, letting him rub gentle kissing touches into your sticky clit.

Your eyes roll at the pleasure, deliciously paired with the thrusting stretch of his length.

"Yeah, that's it." Sam coos, thighs flexing under you, "you're such a good girl, y'know that?" He kisses your jaw. You tighten around him, and he chuckles loosely, pressing his cheek into your own, "y'like that? Like being my good girl?"

You nod, "Yes, yes!" Your voice tapers into a hushed whimper.

"Y'gonna cum? Can feel you gettin' tight."

You nod again, biting into his shoulder with a cry when your release washes over you. Walls spasming around his cock.

When he cums, he twitches under you. Soft jolts that shake you alert to pull yourself off of him.

Sam falls to the bed beside you, the two of you panting into the cool air of your room.

"I love you." Sam calls to you, and you nod warmly. His knuckles trace over your cheek as he watches your eyes flutter shut. The fan sifts gently and clicks in the quiet. A car passes by.

You don't remember the sound of your own voice.

[crystaleevee4]

going crazy (forgive the ugly-ass colors, I had to try and find good color coding for 14 people, and still have it have enough contrast against the background to be readable). for the record I had to transcribe these lyrics myself in Google docs offline mode using the downloaded file I had of the song. with no wifi, so no spell check or googling lyrics I wasn't sure about. which was hell on my audio processing disorder brain

anyways I am very far from done and I want to try and get each soulmate pair in at least once, so far as you can see we've got scar & Grian, Martyn & kind of Cleo but not as a pair yet, Pearl & Scott (and kind of Cleo), and then impulse (and bdubs but that line isn't in this screenshot)

anyways if anyone has suggestions for all the remaining people. hmu in reblogs (please). also these aren't all the lyrics to the song ofc, i'll put them under cut with my notes (this song is just very double life to me so i'm hoping some day I'll be able to animate it):

Separate faces help him to walk and cross the tiles As he justifies existence with flinches and false smiles

^ something something maybe Grian and scar? unsure

And the hand he used to feed his hunger shriveled from the cold He's borrowed more than he can pay, his debts are getting old

The cracks had always been on show,

^ referencing martyn's lore?

the spirit always broke The bottle always emptied well before the candles smoked Tobacco always there on cue in someone else's glass

Someone else's secrets become someone else's path [past?]

^ martyn's lore? w/ grian

I know you well, I know you felt Like it should've been someone else who fell But I'll never forget your face You melt into my life [light?]

I want the attention that she's getting From your loving arms

^ Pearl, Scott, Cleo

You let me soak your face into my memory Like you want me, and you kept me Wanting more as I don't know you I don't own you, I just sew you Into pieces of this fabric that I wear over my shoulder

Like a dream, you fill me up

And make me cold, just like a soldier Trains her mind to do the killing Even though he isn't willing I have pain, and I am cold Without your heat to make me bold

^ pearl and scott

Just forget that we're not molded We're just solitary soldiers

^ Grian and scar?

Given [giving?] up on all this love stuff It's made up and we're just older I give up on you, we're over [I gave up when you were over?]

I want reciprocal lovers I want trust, and I want safety

^ pearl

I want space, and I need chasing

^ impulse if you know his character and see DL!impdubs in the toxic way. please. someone see it

I want to feel that I'm the only girl Around you who can know you

But I want to see you luring Other women who can't own you I want to see their faces When you make them lose their graces

When you make them feel they're placeless

^ pearl

Like a chain around an object that keeps moving You're a concept of a man and of an object

You are everything I wanted All I seem to crave Like a hero needs to save

Except when I get up close There is a maggot on the rose

^ again. impdubs. they're picture perfect until they're not

Like a magpie stealing shiny things There's [they're?] sometimes diamonds, sometimes tin

You are my darkness, and you understand I don't want anything but your hand Just hold [pull?] me steady, hold me steady (hold the frame) And I'll shoot again, now

I can't stop thinking about you

And if you're stripping me down to My brittle bones and crumbled joints These open wounds just need some salt, oh

^ impulse and bdubs (I am big on clockduo/impdubs DL toxicity ok)

It would be better if you left If I can't see you, I can't step Into the light you've cast about you I can't have you, but I want you

This obsession is not letting me slide I feel I'm damaging myself to stay alive I am destroying all I have to let this burn This little flame is not so dangerous on its own

[gaoau]

white of blacks

one for the family; two for the show warnings — none. word count — 829

prev.

sometimes it feels like you're lying when you tell Iori you love him, because the way you look at him like he's far more and far worse than a human makes you think this isn't love anymore. it's different; something in his gaze that tells you this is okay, something in your mind that walks the other way, something that, when he talks with that specific tone and his smile fades, has you wanting to tear your eyes out so you don't have to see him be so upset.

he watches you slip out the back door of Club Candy, a champagne bottle in hand despite today not being New Year's night. with a sigh, he follows after you where the buzz in your ears is a little quieter. "that's quite an expensive bottle, y'know?" a small push and a small prod to fan the flames, to poke right at your heart and see if it falls apart this time.

"i know," is all you say.

Iori wishes you would say something more for once. all he can do is wait, make sure you don't fade away, give you a little strength and life without interest.

you hold the bottle tight in your hands, fingers wrapped firmly around its neck. taking in a deep breath, you swing it at the wall like a baseball bat, rain of glass and champagne flying in a whirlwind. Iori realizes quickly what be careful what you wish for means and the tears in your eyes tell him he's bitten off a bit more than he can chew. he'll chew it anyway, because it's you, but he admits it made him recoil.

"i miss them…! i miss them, okay?! i loved them…!" your voice cracks and trembles, sounding more than exhausted as you break. he hates to see you cry so devastated, but at least you're finally admitting it. "i love them, Iori, they're my parents… they're my family…" the same rope that burns is the one that keeps you from crumbling. he thinks maybe you should crumble a little more.

"you know family is what you choose, [Name]."

"i chose them, Iori. i chose them."

you've never seethed like this before. you've never burned so hot. your skin stings when you try to force your tears back into your eyes with your own hands. Iori stands idly, arms open for when you decide to finally crash against him. he trusts you know when to come and go. he trusts your body to act on your own needs.

so you do, alcohol splashing and glass grinding under your shoes as you cling onto his clothes. "i'm so afraid," you admit clearly, a whisper that quivers but doesn't hesitate. family is what you choose.

"of letting 'em go?"

you hum in affirmation. "i can't keep doing this."

"you don't have to." he knows you know. he knows you're listening. "you can try again. you just need a little strength to let go." his fingers run soothingly through your hair, a soft kiss to crown you on this coronation night. you're lucid enough to hear him, to make full sense out of his words.

you can feel your own heart nearly beating out of your chest. your body trembles and your mind is loud. Iori's hands are so steady as he does everything in his power to keep you awake.

your eyes flutter open to the golden sunlight pouring in through the windows. you admit the buzz from the alcohol was somewhat fun and had you feeling so many things at the same time with a vibrancy you know from nothing else.

except you do. when Iori shifts beside you, stealing the covers and your body heat from you, you know that same vibrancy from Iori; from his mind games and from his loud cackles and from raising him up on the highest gilded pedestal you can possibly build to bring him back down with your own hands.

"good mornin'…" he grumbles as he rolls over, lips pressed against your shoulder.

you don't think you're lying when you tell him you love him. it's really not your fault you can't explain your whole truth through words. it's something more, something different; it's kissing him every night and letting him twist your brain; it's worshipping his skin with your hands, his bones with your teeth.

when you don't even have the nerve to reciprocate his kiss, Iori bites your ear. "are ya still sleepy?"

you giggle, rolling your eyes. "yeah, let's sleep in a little." and you move to wrap yourself around him and choose him today again. it's waking up next to your family in your own home where the world is quiet, where it's okay, where you're okay.

[starheirxero]

XERO- XERO- HOW COULD YOU/SILLY?! YOUR LORD LUNAR AND SERVANT ECLIPSE POST HAS BEEN HOGGING MY BRAIN FOR THE PAST SIX HOURS!!

THEY ARE ROTATING IN MY BRAIN-

IT IS SO TRAGIC- IT IS SO BEAUTIFUL-

THERE'S SOMETHING SO EERY AND HAUNTING ABOUT IT-

A BROKEN GOD AND THEIR FAITHUL PRIEST. A BURNT OUT SUN AND A WITHERING EARTH, THAT SEEKS ITS LIGHT, DESPITE KNOWING, IT'LL NEVER BURN AGAIN.

THE WORSHIPPER, WHO HAS NOTHING, AND THUS CENTERS THEIR ENTIRE WORLD AROUND IT'S GOD. A GOD WHO LAYS ON A CRUMBLING PIECE OF LAND, UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING OTHER THAN WAIT FOR THEIR END, YET STILL TRYING TO SOMEHOW REASSURE AND COMFORT THE ONLY ONE LEFT, THE ONLY ONE WHO CARES.

A BROTHER, A COMPANION, WHO BEGS, AND PLEADS, AND YELLS FOR HIS ONLY FRIEND, HIS ONLY REASON TO BE, TO WAKE UP AND DO SOMETHING. IT DOESN'T MATTER, WHAT. EVEN IF THEY TEASE HIM, AND CAUSE HIM TO RAGE, HE WON'T COMPLAIN, AS LONG AS THEY ARE STILL HERE.

A SHELL OF A PERSON, WHO, IN ANOTHER LIFE, WANTED NOTHING MORE THAN TO HEAR THOSE WORDS LEAVE THE OTHER'S MOUTH. WHO NOW CAN'T EVEN RESPOND, AND ONLY WATCH IN FADING DESPERATION, UNABLE TO CRY AND REACH OUT. UNABLE TO TELL HIM "I'm still here."

HE HAS LEFT THEM IN ANY OTHER WORLD, AND IN THIS ONE, THEY ARE GOING TO BE THE ONE TO LEAVE.

I CAN'T TAKE THIS/POS-

What messes me up even more about it is their relationship in canon.

They are not meant to be. They are always meant to be miles apart. They are always meant to hate one another, to bite and tear and rip each other apart. Their siblinghood, from the moment it was created, was doomed, not meant to last…

And yet.

They are still here, and they are together, and they care and love, and they beg for it to last.

In any other universe, Eclipse is meant to flash his teeth and leave.

In any other universe, Lunar is meant to long for something that can never be, until it becomes a part of them.

And yet, this time, this one time, it's different.

In this one universe, this single, crumbling place, they'll be at each other's side until the end.

This one time, Eclipse will stay, and instead of flashing his teeth, he'll cry and scream and embrace.

In this one universe, Lunar won't long for something unreachable, won't become a reflection of what they so despise. Instead, though they are unable to answer, they will know how much they were cherished and loved.

This one time, the spiteful creator, afraid of affection, worships and prays.

This one time, the creation, haunted by what they could never have, is worshipped and loved by the one they longed for.

This will be the first, and last time. This will be the only universe, where they mean everything to each other, where they are each other's worlds.

Had their situation been any different, they would kill one another. But as they are, they lay silently in the grass, waiting for the end, for one cannot fight, and the other sees no worth in a world without their god, the only person to get past their walls and reach for their hand.

And most tragically, no one will ever know them.

No one will ever know of their world.

No one will ever know, that they are capable of simply loving one another.

"Do you think we're brothers in another universe?"

No, They are not. They won't ever be again.

Their fates are intertwined endlessly, but it will always be twisted and cruel.

They are only brothers this one time. But maybe that's enough.

Maybe they are just happy, it was them.

-Stardust

HAJAHSJAHSJS!!!!!!! HAJAHSJAHSJANSJSHJSNDJS!!!!!!!!!!! YESYYEYSYED AHHHHHHH STARDUST YOU GET ME YOU GET MEEEEEEE!!!!!!!

YOU SEE MY VISION YOU UNDERSTAND THE VIBES I WAS GOING FOR YES YES YES!!!!!!

AND AHAHSGSJSBSJSGS DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON EVERYTHING YOU SAID ABOUT HOW THE CONTRAST WITH CANON I DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT I'M GUNNA CRY /POS

THEY'RE A TOTAL OPPOSITE OF CANON..... Eclipse at Lunar's feet begging to hear something, anything, from them and Lunar only being able to watch no matter how hard they try...... They are right in each other's arms. There's nowhere else to go but they wouldn't leave if they could. Other Lunar and Eclipse duos could probably not even begin to fathom such a situation.....

GHBPHBBUEHEUUE AND,,, WHEUUEUE,,, AND AOAUGHH TGEYRE ONLY BROTHERS THIS ONCE,,,, BUT MAYBE THATS ENOUGH . MAYBE THEY ATE JUST HAPPY IT WAS THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

We need to reunite Golden Butter Cookie and Shadow Milk Cookie

One of the first things he does once he gets out of the box is look for the small toy box to see if Golden Butter Cookie is still there. It's awkward at first due to so many years of not seeing each other but they're both relieved to just know the other is alive and well.

That or Gingerbrave and Co convince Golden Butter Cookie out of their toy box and end up facing Shadow Milk Cookie once again after so many years and it invokes so much emotion.

Requested Prompts #25 - 💔( a bit of ✙ as well)

Unlike with my previous posts about her, this prompt/ficlet does not take place in the same timeline as my other Golden Butter Cookie posts. This prompt poses the question that: What if Shadow Milk Cookie, after escaping the tree and fucking around for a moment, immediately went to go find the Toy-Box? This, is the resulting outcome.

----

It certainly felt good being free after all those years he spent imprisoned, Shadow Milk Cookie thought to himself. It had been oh so so so long since he had the chance to torment Earthbread like he did in the past, and he couldn't wait to get started! Just thinking about how everything was like before was enough to get him excited. The way entire kingdoms could crumble to dust after a few whispers to spread distrust, how powerful he had been, the horrified looks upon the faces of those who had stood up to the beasts as they watched their fallen comrades be used as mere puppets for his shows... Oh how all of those things had brought him such twisted glee. But wait, he's forgetting something, isn't he? He'd stopped in his tracks, settling upon a thick branch. He'd only shrunken down from his usual titanic size to make it harder for those pesky cookies to track him after all. He thought, and thought, and thought and thought. Goldie. Shit, fuck, he'd almost forgotten about Goldie! When was the last time he visited her? Probably a few days before he'd gotten sealed. His face paled when he remembered just what he'd said to her on that day. He told her 'I love you', just as he was leaving. Oh, oh he was so fucked. He did not mean to do that, leaving his dear starlight in the dark for... shit, how long had it been? Thousands, his mind supplies him with, not doing anything to help the crushing feeling that he fucked up. If any of the other beasts found out that he did this( not purposefully though, at least), then they would probably kill him before Goldie got the chance to. If Goldie was still alive to kill him. Who knows what thousands of years of being left in the dark after that would do to her mental state? Certainly not something pretty! So now, with much more haste than he had earlier, he rushed to change his course towards the location of the entrance to Golden Butter Cookie's Toy-Box.

---

The minute he entered, he realized that everything was in shambles. Not visually though, everything still looked beautiful. What made it have the status of 'shambles' was the residents. Twisted from the last time he'd seen them thousands of years ago when they were... well, more friendly. A lot more friendly. They used to just tackle him to the ground to restrain him! Not OUTRIGHT TRY TO MAIM HIM! God, if the dolls were like this, then who knew what Goldie was like? He stood surrounded by stuffing and strawberry jam, he doesn't want to question why there even was strawberry jam inside the dolls. He'd actually broken a sweat ripping them to shreds, but it'd be fine, right? Goldie could just repair them... right? " You!" He hears a voice, freezing up almost immediately. " What are you doing back here after so many years?" The voice doesn't sound too happy to see him, but it wasn't Goldie, it was too high-pitched. Turning around, he saw another, less fucked up but still kinda fucked up doll, one that looked more like a cookie. He still remembers his silly suggestion of calling them 'pookies'. He wracks his brain for a moment. " ... Rosemary?" He soon asked confusedly, Goldie's first living creation looked pretty different to what he remembered. One of her button eyes were torn out, leaving only one brightly hued golden button for her to see out of. Her arm also looked like it had been stitched back on rather hastily, the craftsmanship of the stitch was nothing like how Goldie would do it. The short plushie marched up to him, almost angrily. " Where the hell have you even been, huh? You left for over thousands of years, did you even think of how your absence would affect Golden Butter Cookie after you left her with what you said?" Rosemary scolded him, poking him with a plush finger. " Look- I didn't mean to! It's not my fault that we got sealed off by the witches before I could come back!" He argued back, watching something flicker across Rosemary's eye. " ... Of course, it all makes sense. You were practically obsessed with her." Rosemary concluded, looking back up into Shadow Milk Cookie's eyes. " But, she won't be happy to see you.. At least, at first." Before Shadow Milk Cookie could question her further, Rosemary turned around. " It's not safe to continue speaking here, more of the Hyper-focused could come and attack at any moment." She stated before leading Shadow Milk off, he quickly followed her. " Hey! Wait up!"

----

" So... Goldie's gone all Sleeping Beauty? Leaving you guys to, well, go nuts?" Shadow Milk Cookie concluded, sitting cross legged upon the seat he'd been given at the campfire at Salvation's Stitch Village, a safe haven for all the dolls that had either gone dormant or didn't succumb to the the Hyper-Focused's craze. " That's basically what happened, but yes." Another Pookie like Rosemary, he's pretty sure this one is called Basil, replied. " And you, are going to fix it. You're practically responsible for why she's like this anyways!" " Okay okay! Geez, I get it! I messed up big time! Just tell me how to get to Goldie and I'l apologize and this whole thing can get cleared up!" He said, holding up his hands defensively. " An Apology won't cut it, you need to grovel at her feet and beg for mercy!" Basil snapped back, being held back by Rosemary. " Basil! Have patience, I'm sure that He'll be sincere with his apology." Rosemary stated, with that seeming to calm them down. " He better," Basil huffed, " Because if he doesn't, then our mistress will surely kill him." Shadow Milk gulped nervously, they were right, Goldie would probably kill him if he fucked up. He had to play this right otherwise he wouldn't be enjoying his freedom for much longer. " of course I will, what, do you think I'm that much of a monster?" He huffed, crossing his arms. He did feel guilty for what he'd done though, it wasn't something he usually felt nowadays and it felt... weird, yet fitting to feel it now. " So how do I get to the dollhouse?" He asked, to which the two others stiffened up. " The Guards are Hyperfocused, aren't they?" he deadpanned. " No... It's just that... Well, Mistress may have let the place fall into ruin. You might want to mentally prepare yourself before going in." " Psh, I've caused atrocities on the daily? how bad could it possibly be?"

----

Damn, he really kinned Icarus back there, didn't he? The moment that he convinced Thyme( the lone, surprisingly non-hyperfocused guard of the Dollhouse) to let him in he could not prepare for what he'd see on the inside. Sure it looked... normal-ish at first. With only a few things out of place here and there, but the further he got in the more he got a glimpse of how far Goldie had gone. Dolls were strewn about, some living, some... let's just say dormant. Ripping them apart felt disgusting when he saw the strawberry jam leaking from their stuffing, sometimes mixed with cookie crumbles stained with the scent of melted butter. He knew that Goldie never allowed anyone in the Toy-Box if she could help it, so then what had she done to herself? And then, he reached the door that Thyme had told him about. Doors almost twice his current shrunken size loomed before him, emitting an aura that almost sucked all the motivation out of him. It was Goldie's, he knew it. So he pushed the doors open, taking in the sight. Light filtered in through small windows, just enough to illuminate the room in a dim glow. Amongst various pillows, flowers(ones that he could recognize were Pink Camellia, White Roses, Bluebells, Yellow Chrysanthemums and forget-me-nots) and various other plants was a glass coffin, one that he want to rush in and open. Yet his legs refused to budge without significant effort. There she was, Golden Butter Cookie, Goldie. Still looking as beautiful as ever even though she had fallen from her former creative grace. her golden hair curled around her body, though it wasn't as light and fluffy as it had been before she fell. he remembered his first reaction to seeing her new appearance, before he himself fell to his own, more twisted corruption, was concern. Actually, he'd pretty sure that that was the last time she saw him before he himself succumbed to his corruption. He staggered over to the coffin, peeling the sugar glass back to free his beloved. Even after thousands of years his feelings had never died. " Goldie... Hey, Goldie..." He began, poking at her face. " C'mon... wake up... I got somethin' to tell you." Probably not the best way he could have gone about it... but it did the trick. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, drifting towards Shadow Milk Cookie who smiled in return. " Heya Sleepy-head, rise and shine!" He chirped, yeah he should probably be more serious... But come on! It's his Goldie, can't he have just a bit of fun before he does his apology? " Shadow... Milk... Cookie...?" She murmured out, taking a moment to register what she was seeing. He could see the surprise dance across her eyes as she seemed to register that it was him. " Shadow Milk Cookie.... you...." " Yep! It's me, I came back!" He chirped in response, closing his eyes and just missing the way her fist tightened.

It wasn't too long until he felt a hard blow to his entire body. " You bastard..!" He could hear Goldie exclaim, her voice taking upon a hint of rage as he flew out of the room and into the hallway. He crashed into one of the walls with a sharp, hacking cough. He could see a few flecks of blueberry jam come out as well, damn, she was still as powerful as ever. He looked up, noticing her floating form a few ways away. A golden aura of wrath shined around her, a bright light emitting from the spears that she was carrying and also had floating around her. " W-wait! Goldie! Calm down, I can explain everything!" He frantically proclaimed, getting up just in time to dodge a spear thrown right at his shoulder. " As if that would excuse what you did to me!" She yelled, eyes blazing as a few more spears auto-locked onto the jester and fired. " You left me questioning everything I knew about us for thousands of years! Not even once did you think about checking in at all!" He dodged yet another barrage of spears, slightly thankful that none of them were aimed at his heart or head... yet. " Look, I'm sorry, okay?! I didn't mean to do that!" He argued, just having time to grab onto a stray spear to use it to deflect the other spears coming at him, with it turning a vibrant blue as he did so. " But I didn't have a choice! The witches-" " Oh spare me your excuses! You said that you loved me and then you outright ditched me!! There's no reason that can excuse that!" he could see the tears brimming in her eyes, they looked like liquid gold. " I waited for you, I waited so long because I wanted to believe that you still cared about me, that you didn't just want a fancy puppet now. And what did I get in return?" He looked at the spears filling the air around her, crap, he'd die for sure if he couldn't deflect or defend himself from these. because there was no way in hell that he could dodge that many spears. " Nothing. You never came back, even to just explain why." She hissed, the barrage increasing in size as her rage built. " I was devastated, I broke myself apart just to try and forget the pain you caused me... But it didn't work, you stayed in my heart like a parasite feasting on my desire for your affection." Oh, that probably explains the jam and cookie parts in some of the dolls in the dollhouse then. " I-" " Don't even try to lie you're way out of this." She scolded as the tears dribbled down her dough. " This, if for all the pain you've caused. I hope it hurts you like you hurt me, tenfold." The spears begin to fly towards him at Goldie's command, so without hesitation he screamed out what he wanted to say, why he didn't come back. Hopefully he wouldn't be a skewer holder afterwards, this time he couldn't bare the thought of a tragic end, especially for himself. " I WAS SEALED AWAY BY THE WITCHES!! THAT'S WHY I NEVER CAME BACK!" His desperate plead was silenced with an almost breathless gasp as the spears stopped mere millimeters away from his dough. He almost collapsed from the intensity as all the spears, except for one aimed at his neck, slowly disappeared into golden dust. Time seemed to stretch on for eternity. He could hear Goldie's shoes tap against the floor as she walked up to him, taking the last remaining spear away from his neck. Desperation can make the truth come out, and she could tell that Shadow Milk wasn't lying this time. She looked so... tired. She collapsed into his arms, tugging at his ruffled collar. " i should have known..." She mumbled, " I should have guessed that you and the others finally went too far..." She sounded so quiet, so done. So he wrapped his arms around her, slowly, as if she'd crumble if he went too fast. " I'm sorry." He apologized, just holding her so she wouldn't disappear.

[amethystina]

If you had to put Yohan and Gaon in a parallel universe, what would it be? Bcs I've been thinking about how would they be in a zombie apocalypse scenario (it's definitely very angst)

I can think of several and my brain tends to let the ideas percolate at the back of my mind whether I want them to or not x'D So, at random, it'll present me with fully formed stories complete with a complex plot and everything that's been slowly pieced together while I wasn't looking.

Admittedly, I haven't thought of a Zombie AU, though, probably because I don't like the doom and gloom of it (she says while having written a 100k Zombie AU for another fandom where one of the main characters is a literal zombie x'D ).

ANYWAY. Here are some ideas that have been living in my brain rent-free for a while:

Soulmate AU:

While everybody believes in soulmates, not everyone is lucky enough to dream of their fated other half. Yo Han does, however. They start during his teenage years, as is customary, and he can't say he's surprised when it's Isaac's familiar face he sees. He's quite relieved, in all honesty, since he'd much rather have a platonic soulmate than a romantic one. It's less messy that way.

Fate proves him wrong the day Isaac dies in that godforsaken fire and Yo Han devotes the rest of his life to avenging his soulmate's death. That seems to be the only way to fill the void inside of him.

But then, just as Yo Han is getting ready to set his ten-year plan in motion, everything gets thrown on its head.

He meets Kim Ga On.

Suddenly, Yo Han isn't sure who he's seeing in his dreams. Is it Isaac or this young, idealistic judge — who Yo Han soon realises has been sent to spy on him? And, even if it is Kim Ga On he's dreaming about, does that truly change anything? Everything has already been set in motion and, soulmate or not, Yo Han wants revenge for what happened to his brother.

And what's to say that Kim Ga On — so brilliant and righteous — would even want Yo Han as his soulmate? His despise for Yo Han is evident so, clearly, fate must have made a mistake this time.

Someone that pure could never love a monster like him.

(Ga On dreams, too, and they're always the same. He never sees his soulmate's face, only roaring flames and a crumbling building. Ga On assumes that means his soulmate is dead. Why else would he find himself trapped inside that burning inferno every time he dreams? Surely he would have seen something else by then if the person was still alive?

Not once does it cross his mind that, maybe, his soulmate just needs to find a reason to start living again...)

___

Black Knight AU:

Joining a group of rebel refugees wasn't so much a choice for Ga On as a necessity. He hates to see the suffering around him, people dying from lack of oxygen and food, their numbers dwindling by the day.

Ga On wants a better future for all of them and he'll fight tooth and nail to get it — even if that means tearing down the old world order and demanding a new one.

Fortunately for the rebels, they have someone on the inside helping them. Ga On has never met this person — known only as the Benefactor — but it's clear that he must be from the core district. Only someone at the very top would have the kind of power and influence that the Benefactor does, providing the rebels with information and supplies through the network of deliverymen and military personnel at his disposal. Ga On doesn't know why someone at the core district would want to bring down the very system that keeps him rich, but Ga On will take whatever help he can get.

And then — as if Ga On doesn't already have enough to deal with — things get complicated the day the rebels intercept what they think is a supply delivery but turns out to be a travel convoy. And the man at its centre is clearly from the core district judging by his pristine suit and flawless appearance. Usually, that would make him a valuable hostage, but there's something different about this man.

Not only does he not seem the least bit afraid to find himself in the midst of a group of armed refugee rebels, but he also fixates on Ga On in a way that's downright unsettling. Ga On doesn't understand why.

Nor does he understand why he keeps feeling an inexplicable and wholly inappropriate pull towards the man. Ga On knows absolutely nothing about him aside from the fact that he's clearly very rich, unnervingly intelligent and, as it soon turns out, incredibly dangerous. How can Ga On be attracted to someone so ruthless and selfish?

The only core district dweller Ga On feels even the slightest bit of respect for is the Benefactor and this Kang Yo Han is the polar opposite. Ga On shouldn't feel drawn to him.

And yet, against better knowledge, he does.

And it feels more like a question of when he'll succumb, rather than if.

(This story has everything! Rebels! Eating of the rich! Delicious identity porn! Explosions! Elijah calling Ga On literal trash that Yo Han dragged in from the gutter!

... it would probably also be pretty long so let's hope I don't succumb to the urge to write it)

___

Historical Vampire AU:

After Ga On's parents die, he fully expects to end up on the streets and starve to death. Fortunately for him, a local scholar takes him on as an apprentice instead, teaching him how to read and write.

He feels incredibly indebted to Scholar Min and so, many years later, when Ga On is asked to accept a position as assistant to a rich but mysterious lord just outside the city, he of course does so. The position is a mere cover, however. In actuality, Ga On will be spying on Kang Yo Han in hopes of finding out if he's secretly supporting the uprising that's brewing in their region.

More than once, Scholar Min tells Ga On that he must be careful — that the mission is incredibly dangerous. But it's not until he actually arrives at Lord Kang's estate that Ga On understands why Scholar Min kept repeating all those dire warnings.

Not only is Kang Yo Han aloof and deeply unsettling — his gaze filled with something that could only be described as hunger whenever he looks at Ga On — but he doesn't seem to eat, rarely sleeps, and never ventures outside during the day. Only once darkness falls does he leave the estate and, sometimes, he doesn't return until just before dawn.

Before long, Ga On begins to wonder if Kang Yo Han isn't just involved in the uprising, but might also be the cause for the dead bodies that have been found strewn around the city the past couple of months.

And, somehow, Ga On has to find proof to support his theory — preferably without becoming a target himself.

(A.k.a. if you thought Ga On's neck kink in Who Holds the Devil was bad? Think again, bitches)

___

Aside from these, there are also the two parallel universe stories I have already started: Gravitational Pull which is basically meant to be a series of one-shots that divert from the original canon by changing one small detail in each installment. And then The Devil's Due which is a Different First Meeting AU where they meet when Ga On is still a teenager and that throws everything out of order (because Yo Han accidentally kickstarts Ga On's gay awakening a lot sooner than usual and, after that, all bets are off)

So yeah. I could probably think of several more but let's stop here for now xD

(And don't ask me why I chose to write these ideas as if they're fanfic summaries because they definitely aren't fanfics yet)

[rottedcreatures]

I fucking HATE being insecure. I hate it so much. Every time a friend doesn't talk to us for a while, we get paralyzed by the fear that we're going to lose them just like we constantly lose Everything else. I hate being an insecure and anxious person. I hate having an insecure attachment style.

I fucking hate being the holder for all of our fucked up, disgusting thoughts. I hate being the one who fronts when the brain is doing the depression thing again. I hate being what I am I hate who we are as a person I fucking hate it.

I hate being like this. I hate that we're so downright terrified of losing people that it makes us lash out at them. I hate it especially when we lose a friend we've had minor falling outs with in the past, going to their blogs to see if they're online and finding them posting shit like "I love getting annoying bitches removed from servers" when just the other day they'd defended us to someone. I hate that when we see posts like that, something inside me aches. Something inside this body starts to grow sore and heavy with the reality that we aren't a likeable person and we are probably going to lose all the friends we have eventually because we always do. It always happens.

I hate that we've stopped trying to communicate and ask if something is about us, because when we get told "no" we feel stupid for asking. I hate that Insecurity pumps through our veins almost as easily as blood does. I hate that we're naturally a sensitive person. I hate that we're always seeking affection or even just kindness from people. I hate than we're so harsh sometimes. I hate being like this. I hate being this kind of person but I cant- I can't change. No amount of therapy or healing will change the fact that we at the core of whatever kind of being we happen to be, are damaged.

It hurts.

It hurts so fucking bad.

I just want to be loved without feeling like I am begging for it.

Everything I've ever touched, ever breathed on has come out burned or broken. We break everything we touch. We are not a gentle soul.

But we could be.

These hands of mine are coating in the blood of all the lives I've killed, all the versions of myself I've slaughtered in attempts to become something better.

This body is damaged. I am tired.

I want my mom. I want to be held.

I want to be told I am loved regardless of the gruesome damage I carry like a badge of honor.

I want to be loved despite the demons that lay beneath this pale flesh of mine.

I want to be able to not speak to someone for a bit and not think "they probably hate my guts". I want to be able to say something, and not rethink it a thousand times after.

I want to be able to maintain a friendship more than just online. I want real friends. I want someone who will walk through the darkness of my mind, find me where I am most damaged, and hold that part of me up to the light and not even flinch.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I say I'm sorry at lot because at the end of the day, I really am sorry. Sorry that I made you deal with me, sorry that I was even in your life, sorry that I exist.

I know. Just because I did not mean to be cruel, does not mean I was kind.

I am like a broken gas stove. Slowly leaking into the air, building up in your nose and your chest until it takes one spark, and suddenly I am a burning fire that isn't going out. I cry gasoline and breathe the flames like they are my own children.

My palms are calloused from gripping things so tight that they crumble in my hands.

My knuckles are bruised from punching the walls my own mind built to keep me from losing myself even more.

My mind is filled with smokey memories that slide through my fingertips like sand.

And my soul is dark. And it is fractured. And it is barely holding on.

But you liked me. At least for a little while. For a fleeting moment you and I connected. We bonded. Our souls saw one another and found something worth keeping around.

And I will cherish that. Even if it's dwindling, even though the flame is getting smaller and heat is decreasing, I will cherish that.

[queenofbaws]

Is this a prompt or is this just me blabbing nonsense words as I spew vast amounts of word vomit into your inbox? Who knows! All I know is that I've apparently decided that I needed to share this with someone, and that (un)lucky someone is you lol.

Anyways, for some reason I can't stop thinking about trash trio sleepovers. But not the events that take place during the sleepovers, just that little bit when they've all gotten into bed at the end of a busy night and are actually trying to go to sleep.

Specifically, those all too rare nights when Josh is actually the first to fall asleep, leaving Chris and Ashley as the two still awake. And I just feel like on those nights, they spend a frankly insane amount of hours forcing themselves to stay awake as they just talk. Bundled up under borrowed blankets and thankful for the darkness of whatever bedroom or livingroom they've crashed in for the night hiding tired yet utterly besotted smiles and completely enamored faces as they do their best to stay quiet so they don't wake anyone up, even as they can't stop giggling and laughing every couple of minutes. Just, like, taking about everything and nothing as they both selfishly not allow the other to go to bed, not wanting to put a stop to these oh so rare moments when it's quiet and soft and private. It's just *them*.

So they can't help but stay up way too late, until the point hits where they're both so overtired that their once carefully constructed and guarded filter starts to crumble and one or both of them is like seconds away from blurting out 'so I think I'm maybe in love with you.'

I've also decided that this is probably the closest that either of them get to actually saying anything about it, and yet it happens more often than either would like lmao. Like they probably get out the first couple of words before their brain finally catches up to their mouth and then they're making flustered and mortified excuses/realizations about how it's like 5 in the morning or something so they should definitely absolutely go to bed as they roll over and end whatever conversation they were having abruptly and seemingly out of nowhere lol.

And yet, when they get up grouchy and grumpy in the morning, you know that neither of them regret even a single hour of it 💖

(i am very sorry about this word vomit you are about to wake up to lol. Haven't been able to stop thinking of this for weeks cause I love how warm and gushy it makes me feel fhdkskdhdkshd)

There were a lot of downsides to Josh being a heavy sleeper - and 'a lot' meant a lot, the list running the gamut from the relatively harmless (e.g., having to find a way to wrestle your arm out from under his dead weight if you made the mistake of falling asleep in his general vicinity) to the downright torturous (e.g., the snoring) - but as the prince of horror taketh, so too did he giveth, at least in a sense.

Him being able to sleep through a mass extinction event meant they only had to pretend to whisper.

"It's really not all it's cracked up to be, y'know," Chris said, was saying, had been saying, the conversation about college life having long-since turned into something else by virtue of how many times they'd circled around it, turning it over and over again like a craggled rock thrown into a polisher until it became smooth, "I mean, don't get me wrong...there's a certain kind of beauty to just having to swipe your ID at the dining halls and not having anyone raise an eyebrow when you say, like, 'Why yes I do think I'll be having another burrito for breakfast, my good sir,' but...eh, sometimes I wish I was still here."

In the half-light of the basement, only the ambient glow of entertainment center lights there to cast a bluish cast about the place, he couldn't see Ashley so much as imagine her there, a faint rustle from the couch suggesting she'd rolled over or tugged her blanket up. "Awww," she teased, "sounds like someone's homesick, huh?"

That was one word for it, he guessed, though it wasn't quite the right one; neither was it the wrong one, it just...it was too vague, too open, too, too, too nonspecific, because 'homesick' meant you were missing home, but did it mean the same thing when the home you were missing was a person and not a place?

"Or maybe I just don't know how to function when you're not around to roll your eyes at me, you ever think of that?" he asked, and he smiled when she laughed, Chris did (because that, in a way, was its own sort of home, and another one he'd been sick for, if he was being honest), but he wished he could find courage enough in that darkness to admit aloud to her that he hadn't been joking at all - not even a little bit.

six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!

[s1utspeare]

hohoHOOOOO whump time!!! if you’re feeling it I’m thinking “Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step” with pangsang (platonic romantic whatever dealer’s choice) bc they’re both so bitchy I can see either of them saying it lmao <33333

DINO YOU ARE!!! MY SOULMATE that's EXACTLY who i was thinking of for this prompt adhsligajldfkjsad. Anyway. This turned out a little sillier than expected, but enjoy the Them!!

Send me a prompt and some characters and I’ll write some whump!

"Walk then. Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step."

So. They've been in worse situations before, although it's taking Pangzi a lot to think of any. It's taking him a lot to think of anything right now, that's how out of it he feels. He hates weird tomb dust. There's so much weird dust in tombs and usually it isn't even dust, it's like. Blood or dead tiny bugs or fucking poison or something, and then it gets in your eyes or on your skin and Xiao-ge has to make out with Tianzhen about it—no. No that's just normal activity. The tomb dust has nothing to do with that. Pangzi wonders if Xiao-ge will make out with him.

He won't, though, and Pangzi knows this because they're currently in a Tomb-Dust-Situation, and no one is making out with anyone. At least as far as he can tell. Tianzhen and Xiao-ge aren't in his direct line of sight anymore, so they could be making out somewhere where Pangzi can't see it, which is considerably inconsiderate.

The only person he can see right now is Liu Sang, who is currently scowling at his feet as though he's forgotten how they work. Which he probably has. He'll never admit it, but he was in front of Pangzi when the trap had gone off, which meant that his exposure to the stupid Dust was even greater than Pangzi's was.

He's still not entirely sure how it happened, but someone had set off a trap, which was either like a smoke bomb or something so old that it had crumbled into ash over the years, and he and Liu Sang had gotten lungfuls of it, while Tianzhen and Xiao-ge had been relatively safe from exposure. That's the only good thing, is that Tianzhen isn't in... whatever state they're in. As far as Pangzi can tell, the only thing the Dust is doing is making everything look very spinny and weird, and also making Liu Sang's hair pink.

He snorts, because Jinx would never dye his hair that color, and Liu Sang looks up at him in confusion.

"What?"

"Your hair," Pangzi says. "S'funny."

Liu Sang frowns. "Not."

"Is," Pangzi says, and because he's older, he knows he's right.

Liu Sang opens his mouth, but gets distracted by his own fingers. "Huh."

"Those're nice," Pangzi says, deciding that he should give Jinx a compliment, and his fingers are, admittedly, very nice. Pangzi thinks about his fingers a lot.

"Mm," Liu Sang says. He curls his hand into a fist, and then shrieks.

"What?!" Pangzi exclaims, trying to stand up so that he can protect Jinx from whatever it is that's scared him.

"They're gone!"

"What's gone?"

"My fingers," Liu Sang says miserably, staring down at his own hand. "They disappeared."

Pangzi blinks at him. Yeah, Jinx definitely swallowed more Dust than he did. "Open your hand."

It takes Liu Sang a minute, but he does eventually, and then gasps in delight. "Oh!"

"Told you," Pangzi mutters. wondering where Tianzhen and Xiao-ge have gone off to. He remembers them saying something about going to get backup, or supplies, or some shit, but that could be his brain making things up again. It wouldn't be the first time dust has caused that.

He catches Liu Sang staring at him quizzically. "Why are you looking at me?"

"Where're yours?" Liu Sang asks suspiciously.

"My what?"

"Yours," Liu Sang repeats, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

"Oh," Pangzi says, and then has to do a great deal of looking around in order to find his own fingers, which turn out to be at the ends of his arms. "Right here."

Liu Sang nods, satisfied, and then turns to someone else. "Where're yours?"

"Who're you talking to?" Pangzi asks, squinting to Liu Sang's right, and suddenly sees a blob that morphs into Wu Xie. "Tianzhen!"

"Hi," Tianzhen says, looking amused, which Pangzi has no idea why that could be. The only funny thing is Jinx's hair, and they already went over that. "My fingers are here, Liu Sang." He holds out his hand, and Liu Sang takes it in his own, nodding very seriously at the presence of fingers.

"You know whose fingers are nice?" Pangzi says dreamily. "Xiao-ge."

"His fingers are nice," Tianzhen agrees, and Pangzi always knew he was smart.

Liu Sang, meanwhile, is glaring at him like Pangzi's eaten the last chocolate protein bar, which he has not. "Where'd you put him?" he demands, as if Pangzi has hidden his beloved ouxiang away somewhere.

"I didn't put him anywhere," Pangzi retorts. "Xiao-ge goes where he wants."

"Right now he's trying to disable the other traps," Tianzhen says cheerfully, which doesn't make Liu Sang look any happier.

As if on cue, Xiao-ge's voice floats down the tunnel towards them. "Wu Xie?"

"Coming!" Wu Xie says. "You two, don't move." He disappears down the corridor before Pangzi can tell him that he's never moved in his life, he's very good at not moving.

He's concentrating so hard on not moving that he almost doesn't notice when someone sniffles next to him, a watery breath escaping from them. He looks over to Liu Sang, who is staring at the space Wu Xie had once occupied, and seems to be trying very hard not to cry.

"What is it?" Pangzi asks.

"He's gone," Liu Sang says mournfully, one hand reaching out as if he's trying to touch a non-existant Wu Xie. "Where'd he go?"

"He went with Xiao-ge," Pangzi says, trying to be reassuring. "He'll be back."

That doesn't seem to cheer Liu Sang up at all. "Where'd he go?" he asks, more insistently this time, and a single tear rolls down his cheek, falling from his chin and making a little wet circle on his knee. His eyes are large and watery behind his glasses. "I don't want him to leave."

This is surprising, since all Liu Sang does is ask when the Iron Triangle is going to leave him alone, when he's going to get his life back, when he'll finally regain the peace and quiet he apparently hasn't had since they all fell under a beach together, but right now he's looking very worried that Wu Xie has suddenly gone away for good, and Pangzi knows that feeling.

The cure, as far as he's aware, is a hug, and since Tianzhen isn't here, Pangzi will have to make do. "C'mere," he says, opening his arms. "He'll be back soon."

Liu Sang wrinkles his nose. "I'm not hugging."

"You should," Pangzi insists.

"No."

"You're scared," Pangzi teases him. "You're scared of hugging Pang-ye."

"No," Liu Sang repeats, though he sounds more unsure of himself now.

"I bet you can't," Pangzi says, knowing that challenging him will make Liu Sang do whatever he can to prove him wrong. "I bet you can't come and give me a hug."

"I could if I wanted to," Liu Sang says haughtily, but Pangzi can sense the lack of confidence behind it.

"Mm," Pangzi says, "I don't think so. I don't think you could even walk over here if you wanted to."

"I could!" Liu Sang protests, his eyebrows furrowing in a way that's actually very cute, though Pangzi won't tell him that. Yet.

"Walk then," Pangzi says. "Come on, walk towards me. I bet you can't even take a step." His arms are still open, waiting, starting to feel a little stiff, but he's good at patience.

Liu Sang frowns at him, gauging the distance from his rock to Pangzi's, and then slowly, stutteringly, stands up, and puts one foot forward, then another. His eyebrows are stuck together in intense concentration, like they are when he maps out difficult tunnels.

The third step is the hardest, and Liu Sang wobbles, tipping forward. Luckily, three steps was all he needed, and so he just pitches forward into Pangzi's arms, his face smooshing against Pangzi's chest as he wraps him up tight, sighing in contentment at having a team member safe with him. Safe with Pang-ye. Yes.

"Good Jinx," he murmurs softly. "Nice, good Jinx."

"See?" Liu Sang says, muffled into Pangzi's shoulder, where he's not pulling away. "Told you I could do it."

[roberttchase]

I love the Must Love Dogs too!! So glad you're still updating it. I always thought back to when Sylvie snuck to cat into Med to visit the old man you lost his wife in the fire, she would definitely do that with Beau to visit Matt😂

Ahhh I love this. And thank you!! It's so sweet of you to say. Here's a little ficlet for you, since this idea is so cute!!

+ + +

He and Kidd are attempting to get out of a nearly crumbling house when he hears the tell-tale creaking of something about to give way. He can feel the stairs they're climbing back up from in the basement give an ominous wobble, and his stomach drops- he knows what's about to happen. Without giving it a second thought, Matt jumps up two stairs and pushes Kidd as hard as he can, thankful when she lands three quarters of the way on the first floor wood, only her calves and feet hanging back out of the doorway.

Before he can try and make it himself, the stairs give another groan, and then he's falling. His brain tells him to reach out and grab anything he can, but nothing is around him, and then suddenly he's hitting the floor. His only saving grace is that he somehow manages to land in a spot not engulfed in flames. Pain shoots through his left ankle, pain like he's not felt since he was eight and getting body checked by a much larger nine year old on the ice, playing hockey. Back then, he'd cried and one of the parents hand moved him quickly off the ice, making him wail as his skate had been pulled off as gently as possible, revealing an already swelling and bruising ankle.

Swallowing down a guttural noise that tries to claw its way out of his throat, Matt fumbles for his radio. He can hear Kidd yelling, both through the radio and from the top of the stairs.

"Casey's down, fell through the stairs. I can't get eyes on him, the smoke's too thick!"

Clicking the button, he coughs. "Getting a l-little hot. I hurt my ankle, not sure I can make it out myself." His voice wobbles, and pain flares again as he tries to stand. Nausea sweeps through him, and he gags but forces himself not to throw up. He doesn't need that on top of everything else.

He's aware of someone replying back, but the pain is too much, and Matt decides the best thing to do is try to get away from the flames as much as he can. Pushing himself backwards, the Captain whines as his ankle drags across the concrete floor. Three more pushes and he's up against a cinderblock wall, as far as he can be from the flames. He feels hazy, the pain not letting up. Coughing from the smoke, he shuts his eyes and thinks of Sylvie and her sunshine smile,of Beau, and the baby sister he’ll have in four short months. Logically he knows they're going to get to him, but the fuzziness takes hold of him, and soon everything goes black.

+ + +

God he hates hospitals. Not only does he have enough medical trauma to make his skin crawl at the smell of antiseptic and the sound of heart monitors, but he also has had enough heartbreak in the halls of the ED that it's always unnerving to come back. Swallowing his anxiety down, Matt blinks and lets the newly administered second dose of morphine take hold, exhaustion hitting him like a bus.

He's been in the hospital for nearly four hours, and for the first time since getting here, Matt's alone. After getting rushed via ambo; his wife trying hard to keep her hands from shaking as she administered fentanyl intramuscularly, he's been taken for x-rays, been poked and prodded, and now they're prepping him for surgery to perform an open reduction and internal fixation, the bone to greatly fractured to just shift back in place. Sylvie had gone out twenty minutes ago to talk to Boden. 

The firefighter's almost asleep when the glass doors slide open. Assuming it's Boden or Severide, Matt forces his eyes open. The sight he's greeted with makes him smile. Sylvie's got her large blue coat on, the one she's had for at least five years, and he can see a small bundle of black and white from underneath. Her five month bump is just barely visible, competing with the wiggling dog for space. Walking closer, Sylvie places the fourteen pound frenchie on the bed, who immediately sniffs and snorts the bed linens before crawling onto his papa’s lap. 

“Beauuu,” Matt slurs, hands finding the dog and petting at him clumsily. Beau drinks the attention up, staying close. 

“Hey baby, how’re you feeling?” Sylvie’s eyes rake over his form, lingering on his terrible looking ankle that’s currently half covered. 

“Mm, they jus’gave me the good drugs,” he explains, waving one hand in the air carelessly. “So m’good.” 

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing alright. Beau here was thoroughly upset so Stella brought him to me from the firehouse. He was crying in your office when they got back. I may have talked Maggie into turning a blind eye for fifteen minutes.” She smiles when Beau licks at Matt’s hand. 

“Thanks sunshine, love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

When the talking ends, Beau snorts loudly, huffing after. 

“And we love you too Beau.”

[sadclearance]

could u do male reader's been friends with todoroki from mha for since ua (they're newly pros now) and tells him ily and is like ik ur not good with that stuff tho so it's no big! i don't expect an ily back! and todoroki's like :O and doesn't say it back but later when reader's hurt during a mission todoroki's like oh dang i do love u but it's too late cuz he died

pairing: shoto todoroki x male!reader

summary: todoroki says "i love you" back eventually. it just happens to be too late.

category: angst

warning(s): death

word count: 1649

key:

s/t - skin tone

italicized - text

he's not sure how he got to this exact moment.

if you had told him at the beginning of his high school years that not even just a year after graduating, he'd be running around a deserted parking lot with the cold breeze of the night air nipping at the skin that wasn't covered by his pajamas--which happen to be from a two-years-old matching christmas set with the person he's trying to catch--todoroki would've looked at you as if you were a lunatic.

never in his wildest dreams could he ever imagine this.

but he thinks this is part of what being friends is, and back then, he never would've dreamt of having one of those either.

he doesn't notice the warm breath right next to his ear until a steady voices says, loud and clear, "i love you."

he turns his head so fast his face almost smacks into y/n's, and y/n laughs out visible puffs in the crisp air.

todoroki doesn't even speak. he just stares with wide eyes, not knowing what to do.

this is all just too new to him, and this came out of absolutely nowhere.

"glad that got your attention," y/n smiles when the silence continues. "you were so lost in your thoughts you just stopped moving. i was starting to think you didn't want your phone back."

todoroki now remembers the reason why he was chasing his best friend of four years around an empty parking lot at this ungodly hour, where half of his body was uncomfortably cold.

he does want his phone back, but he doesn't go back to running.

"was that why you said that?" todoroki eventually asks. was it only for the surprise factor? because if so, he's both relieved and disappointed--two things that he recognizes as contradictory and doesn't understand. well, todoroki's never been too good at understanding feelings, so that's not really news.

"nope," y/n answers without skipping a beat, and if todoroki didn't know better, he'd think y/n wasn't nervous at all. the s/t fingers playing with the edge of todoroki's phone case lets him know otherwise. "don't take it too seriously, though. i get it."

get what?

that answer doesn't make todoroki happy at all. now his brain's just muddled and confused, and he can barely process his surroundings. what's he supposed to make of that interaction? don't take it too seriously? he gets it?

when y/n's ran a lap or two without todoroki making a move to get his phone back, he lies down on the floor.

todoroki settles on "you're going to get dirty" because he wants to get back to the present. his head hurts, and thinking isn't getting him anywhere right now.

"come look at the stars with me," y/n reaches his hand up toward the skies, and he looks ridiculous, but todoroki complies because he wants to enjoy the time they have together for as long as he can. they won't have time to see each other for a while, being busy growing heroes and all. 

"is this considered stargazing?"

"we're gazing at the stars, so yeah, i'd say so," y/n jokes.

and now todoroki's out of things to say that aren't questions about y/n's confession.

y/n turns his head to look at todoroki, and todoroki instinctively does the same.

"you're taking that thing i told you not to take seriously seriously, aren't you?"

"i'm having trouble understanding everything you've said in the past few minutes," todoroki admits, turning his head back to face the stars again.

"okay, well, i love you," y/n says.

"you've said that, but--"

"but i don't want you to take it seriously because i get it."

"again, you've said that in almost those exact words." todoroki feels like a frustrated child who's getting cranky over a math problem he doesn't know how to solve.

"i love you in the way that i want to kiss you and go on dates with you and maybe do more stuff," y/n's face reddens at his own words, but his voice is firm.

todoroki's eyes go back to y/n's, and he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

"i know you don't see me that way, and it's all good. i didn't expect anything in return. i just wanted to say it."

"i... i wish i could give you a response, but... you already know that..." todoroki struggles with his words. were these the right ones to say? which are supposed to come out next?

"that you're not good with people stuff. yeah, i remember the first year of me trying to court you into this friendship," y/n laughs.

todoroki wants to laugh while reminiscing the memories too, but he doesn't feel like doing so, especially with how he's pretty sure he just rejected his best friend.

"i told you, no expectations here. just wanted to get that off my chest." y/n rises from the floor and todoroki's eyes follow. "c'mon, we should get going. it's cold, and our schedules are packed for the week. we can't afford to be getting sick."

"yes, it is late," todoroki nods and gets up as well.

the car beeps to signal that the doors are open, and todoroki's about to get into the driver's seat when he sees y/n walking off somewhere else.

"y/n?" todoroki calls out.

"i'm gonna take the bus," y/n answers before todoroki even asks.

"they aren't running at this hour."

"my place is close. i'm gonna walk."

"but--"

"text me if your schedule clears at all!" y/n waves without turning around to face todoroki.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

it's been a week, and todoroki still feels the pressure of having to give a proper response.

y/n said it was fine, but even someone with as little experience with these types of things as todoroki recognizes that it's not kind.

i haven't thought about--

i've never kissed anyone--

human relationships--familial, romantic, platonic, and otherwise are all things that are new to me--

no matter what he types, he feels like the words are all wrong. what's in his drafts are all things that y/n already knows. that's why he said he "gets it".

but todoroki's still so frustrated. he wants to respond properly. he feels like it's only right.

but holy shit is it hard to come up with anything at all.

before he can come up with another poorly worded apology, excuse--whatever it is that he's trying to say--he gets a notification.

assistance required in x prefecture. requesting all available heroes.

todoroki, being the good hero he is, rushes to the sight as soon as possible.

he recognizes the name of the location, but he brushes it off as past experience. after all, within the past year, due to his rising popularity, he's had a lot of opportunities to work in different places.

"what's the situation?" todoroki asks one of the heroes that's trying to stabilize the building that the villain appeared to be in.

"one guy with a geokinesis quirk. he's alone, but his quirk's pretty strong. took out the whole village one town over. we don't know his goal, but the whole building's stone, and we don't want to take any chances."

"is there any way you would like me to help?"

"i'd say ice the whole building, but this guy's got quick reflexes. try going in discretely and trap him in ice when he's caught in surprise."

todoroki nods and is about to enter the building when

"also, try not to ice the other hero in there. i think his name's y/--"

the building crumbles at an incredible speed, and he barely has time to throw both himself and the other hero out of the way.

once the other man is stable, todoroki goes to assess the damage. the rocks are still tumbling down, but they're slower now.

they feel a lot faster when todoroki catches a glimpse of an all too familiar hero costume.

"y/n!" todoroki shouts as he loses the ability to think rationally. he runs with his heart in his throat and a terrible tense feeling that starts to overwhelm his entire body, trying to reach y/n before the large boulder does.

ice spreads from his feet and meets with the chunk of stone before it can fall on y/n's head.

"i'm going to get you out of here," todoroki promises when he makes it to y/n. he calls for help while looking over the pieces of the building on top of y/n's body.

"todoroki," y/n coughs weakly, and todoroki notices a pool of red slowly start to grow on the concrete below them.

"don't talk." todoroki's voice sounds so weak and helpless, and he hates it.

y/n just smiles, but the blood dripping from the corners of his mouth keep it from spreading warmth and happiness within todoroki like it usually does.

todoroki's already seen lots of tragedy in his one year of hero work, but he's never felt so panicked in his entire life.

he tries to shift a rock, but it only makes y/n groan.

"help!" todoroki yells again, but everyone's too preoccupied with catching the villain and tending to their own serious injuries to come and rescue y/n.

"shhh, todoroki," y/n says weakly.

"don't talk!" todoroki yells this time. it's still helpless, but it's loud, and y/n starts to laugh to the best of his ability.

"hard when... when you're just so funny. that's why... i..."

"don't close your eyes." todoroki feels like his heart's stopped.

"i..." y/n's eyes droop.

"look at me!" todoroki shouts with wild eyes.

and so he does. y/n looks at him with tired eyes, but todoroki can tell that he's straining himself to do so.

"i love you," todoroki's eyes feel heavy and his nose burns. "please... i love you, too..."

but it's too late.

the open eyes are quick to lose their life, and y/n's skin loses its color.

"i love you."

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

a/n;

deadass i was listening to my discover weekly on spotify and when i was writing the last few sentences i love you by wavves came on

i didn't know what to title it so i just left it

i hope it was satisfactory anon!

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalyptic Love: Chapter 13: New plan

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL series links

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe you want to work with the Dragons!" Raph screamed, hands waving in the air as both brothers paced back and forth around the rooftop. Leo and Raph had been arguing since the moment the Purple Dragons were mentioned, both storming off to an abandoned tower block to rant their frustrations.

"It's not that I want to actively work with the Dragons, Raph. But we have no choice, I'd rather work with the Dragons for a few days than have New York stay like this hell-hole!" Leo spat back, for once thinking logically.

It was hard to say which brother was right, both having persuasive arguments. On one hand, the Purple Dragons were known as crooks and low life scum, and that was before the Foot took over. But on the other hand, if they knew where the rebel base was that could give you an advantage over the Foot.

"Even after everythin' they've done, ya still willin' to see the good in 'em? God, how brain dead are you, Leo!" Raph chided, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Leo growled in response, quickly growing sick of this conversation. Turning his back, Leo folded his arms and let the nightly breeze dance across his face, "You want to do this your own way, Raph? Fine, but don't come complaining to me when everything crumbles around you."

"It won't crumble cause I won't be on my own, isn't that right guys?" Raph then turned to you, Mikey and Donnie, all of which had just been stood watching the commotion happen. From what Donnie had told you, this sort of stuff happened all the time when they were younger, always fighting over petty things like playtime or pizza slices. It didn't sit well with you, but then again, you never had siblings, born and raised as an only child; an honour for some.

But when Raph called upon you three again, veins popping out of his forehead, you paid attention. "Who agrees with me, eh? The Purple Dragons are nothin' but a bunch of scum that stain these streets, they ain't ever gonna help us." Raph waited for one of you to move, but at the same time, you couldn't feel anything below your nose.

In silence, Donatello stepped forward and moved to stand by Raph's side. Leo clearly questioned his decision, the way his jaw dropped was a give away, "Donnie?" he muttered in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Leo, but Raph's got a point; which is something I thought I'd never say. We can't trust the Purple Dragons, they're criminals, they would never help us."

"Mikey, what about you?" Leo then moved on, dismissing anything more that the purple-banded terrapin would say, he now knew where his loyalties lied. The youngest jumped over to their leader's side, agreeing with everything Leo had said, people can change was his mantra.

"Sorry, dudes, but I gotta agree with Leo. Everyone can change, yo!" he cheered, not quite realising the impulsiveness of his decision. Then everyone's eyes turned to you, staring intently, awaiting your choice. You had never felt more pressure in your life, even in school. You flicked your gaze between the two team leaders, each staring at you with determination and mock confidence, arms folded and chests bared.

Sulking your head down, you solemnly walked over to Raph's side, a small audible gasp muttered from Leo's breath. You couldn't bear to look at him, knowing he was so confident you would choose him over his hotheaded brother, but yet, here you stand by said brother's side. It's not like Leo cared, he simply brushed it off with a hard glare and an etched frown, it's not like this meant anything, just a petty squabble.

But why did it hurt so much, to see you taking Raph's side instead of his own? It doesn't matter, you weren't his, not to claim.

"I-I'm sorry, Leo. But, Raph, he's right in some ways. The Dragons won't change unless you make them, but then...would you still be the good guys?" you still hadn't looked up at him, feeling a weight in your stomach, the bile bubbling with uneasiness.

"Well, now that's settled, I say we should get going, team. We can't start fixin' blue boy's mistake here, if we're too busy chattin'." Raph praised a wide smile on his face, pearly whites aimed at his brother. Turning with a hand on Donnie's right shoulder, Raph dragged him along the edge of the rooftop, jumping down on the fire escapes until he reached the concrete floor, "C'mon squishy! Let's get a move on!" his voice echoed up.

You rolled your eyes, the motion causing your head to shake, looking up at Leo you finally saw the distraught in his sights. They weren't on you but the spot where his other two brother's had been, "I'll look after them," you promised him. Mikey had long since left, only leaving the two of you alone together, like the many times before. Leo nodded in understanding, thankful that you would risk yourself for them if needed, yet he still couldn't get the sick sinking feeling to leave him.

"Be safe, I'm counting on you coming back." he voiced, tone wavery but firm. You nodded your head at him, only like he did moments ago, "Always, captain." you winked, following your team. Leo felt his cheeks bloom, he knew he'd regret telling you about his Space Heroes fantasy late that night.

--

"Alright, guys, time to come up with a plan. So, what we got?" Raph asked, oozing confidence and cockiness. You and Donnie glared at him, "Nothing! We have nothing!" Donnie exclaimed, exasperated, but he said what you were both thinking.

Raph's cocky smile soon turned into a frown, shoulders slumping forward, shell scrapping the wall behind him. You had settled under a bridge, the river that flowed under it dried by the Foot a year or so ago, their reasoning was to stop a flow of supply ships.

"C'mon, D, you're the smart one here! You gotta know somethin'. And you, ya seem pretty smart too, so you two geniuses come up with a plan!" you now understood why Leo was the leader, not that Raph couldn't handle it but his execution was a little...harsh.

"Well, let's see..." Donnie drifted off, using a metal finger to draw into the dirt, dust rising as his finger drew line after line. However, under his constant ramblings, he'd smash a hand against his failed plan and start again. This went on for over ten minutes, all you and Raph did was watch as Donnie slowly lost his mind.

"I can't crack it!" he then shouted, hands clutching his head. You ran over to him, soothing hands rubbing up and down his arms, you weren't too sure why you were rubbing the metal one but you didn't stop when the thought crossed your mind. Donatello seemed to calm down, thanking you with panted breaths, standing to his full height he strode to Raph.

"I can't think of anything that would be remotely successful, the closest we got was with the original plan."

"So what're ya suggesting, Don?"

"I'm suggesting we just update, change, improve, whatever you want to call it, our old plan. Everything would remain the same, the only variable we would be changing would be the addition of the Purple Dragons. Instead, I propose we swap the Dragons for another group."

"Yeah, well, there's one problem with that, Donnie." you huffed, arms crossed over your chest with a pout. You watched as the boys got to thinking, a saddening look emerging on their faces at the realisation, "We don't have anyone else," Donnie whispered, vocalising your collective disappointment.

"Wait a minute," Raph flicked his head up, fingers snapping when he got an idea, "C'mon, follow me!" he darted off, following the tunnel that led to the sewers. He didn't give you much warning as he sprinted away, leaving you and Donnie to look at him with surprise, you soon lost his form and in that moment decided to follow him with haste.

The smell of the sewers was vile, luckily you didn't stay there as Raph had led you to an open pipe. The light from outside shone through, blinding you on entry, a tough hand grabbed ahold of your outstretched arm and pulled you into a hard chest. Looking up, you caught the vibrant green of Raph's eyes, he let you go and continued on his trail.

You were in a dump, and not just any dump, but New York's dump. The smell of rotting trash and decaying bodies filled the air, your nose having trouble filtering out which smell came from where. Piles of garbage ranged from small piles to skyscraper towers, ready to fall with the slightest push.

"Ugh, this place is-"

"Amazing! Oh, would you look at all that scrap metal! A-and this carbon monoxide alarm!" Donnie beamed, cutting off your insult. He moved around the junk piles, pulling out and grabbing ahold of random bits of trash. He gasped aloud, all the oxygen vastly inhaled into his lungs, "Is that an H180 Camshaft!"

"I don't know, Donnie, is it?" Raph laughed out, mocking his younger brother. Donnie repeatedly nodded his head the moment he pulled the metal free, "It is! Oh my god, this place is like a tech boy's heaven." he sighed. you stifled your laugh, not wanting to eagerly mock him like Raph did, but try to share some enthusiasm.

"More like nerd central, c'mon, this way!" Raph grumbled, but a small smirk was pressed on his lips from what you could see. Over the last few days of knowing the brothers, each had started to grow on you, including Raph. You had obviously befriended Mikey, that would be a given when the guy saved you from a Footbot massacre. You had found solace in Donnie, intrigued by his genius thinking and witty comments. Raph was a little harder, barely spending time with the guy would do that to you, but he was alright in your books.

Then finally there was Leo, the leader and oldest. He was different, you had formed a bond, sure, but you still felt distant from him. Earlier when this whole fight went down, he had a longing in his eyes, but his cold tone said otherwise. You needed to know more about him, what exactly were you getting into.

"Welcome to my humble aboded." Raph's voice rung out, his thick accent making the statement less suave. Raph held his arms in a bow, allowing you both first entry into his simple home, said home being piled under a trash heap. It wasn't that big when you looked around, a rotten old mattress sat in one corner, while some empty beer cans and a walkie talkie sat perched on a table in the other. There were plenty of magazines covering the floor, some you didn't want to remotely look at, you noted that there were a lot of motorbike ones though; perhaps an interest or hobby? you mused.

"This is where you were staying, ugh, it's even worse than your room back in the lair." Donnie groaned, only now picking up on the horrendous smell. Raph shrugged his shoulders, jumping back to land on the mattress, the room suddenly covered in dust. You coughed out what dust you inhaled, waving a hand around your face until you could see again, "So why are we here, oh wise leader?" you ridiculed.

"I got somethin' that might give us a lead." he rolled from his bed straight onto the floor, looking under the table, then moving further until his legs were only visible. "Where are ya you crappy little-" he mumbled to himself, voice strained as he searched around.

"Aha!" he laughed, banging his head on the table, a small curse falling from his lips. Pulling away with caution, Raph stood back on his own two legs and turned to face you and Donnie with a tiny book, "What is that, your diary?" you chuckled, a wicked smirk on your face.

The book was tattered, probably from the years of use it had seen, the casing was leather, scratched in some places. It had looked like it was originally a deep maroon, but with some exposure to the sun, the corners had faded to a light pink. As Raph thumbed through the pages, you noted that they too were tattered and ripped, a coffee brown colour instead of what you assumed was white.

"How is some diary going to help us?" Donnie huffed, just as transfixed as you were when watching Raph.

"It-it's not a diary," he grunted, not fully paying attention to you both, "This is gonna tell us where to find help," there weren't many pages left in the book, yet it still took Raph time to go through, checking each page methodically.

"Great so this tiny diary is gonna help us win the Foot war, we're doomed." you groaned, leaning your back against the walls then quickly realising it was all garbage. You sprung away, patting your back of any rubbish that suck to the fabric of your clothes, ugh, you hated the dump.

"This diary- I mean, book- isn't goin' to win us the war, never said that. But, it will get us anotha player in this team."

"What are you going on about, I thought we had no one left, you even said it yourself!" Donnie groaned, hands waving in the air to dramatise his point. Raph ignored his brother, nearly dropping the book when he slowly came to the last few pages. But out from a random page dropped a small slip of paper, it fluttered in the air, slowly falling to its descent on the ground.

Raph had dropped the book and used two hands in an attempt to catch the paper, it had looked like a cat trying to catch a fly or leaf; cute. When he did eventually catch it, a huge smile was on his face.

"Someone looks pretty smug with themselves," you chided, watching as his glee took over his whole body. It was weird seeing Raph like this, the guy kept up a hard image but to see him spinning in circles on one foot like a princess was very...amusing to you.

You got a look at the paper, all three of you crowding around it in Raph's hands. Written in crood English was an address, you didn't recognise it as being a part of the city, but it was an address nevertheless. No name was attached, no number, nothing; what you did find bizarre was the sketch of a hockey mask beside it.

You wondered what it could all mean.

[joe-mazzello-archive]

okay hi I've had a really shitty day. my boyfriend and I finally broke up after quarantining together ruined everything. i was wondering if you could maybe write a little joe blurb where he and reader have a rough time being stuck together at first but everything works out and they're happy'n shit? if this is too angsty i understand but im hella sad and you're the only blog I felt okay asking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

i am so sorry love! i wish i could give you a hug. i hope this blurb helps a little bit <3 <3

it had been months and things still hadn’t settled. maybe it was because your relationship was too new or maybe it was because you two weren’t meant to be. you were no expert on relationships and neither was he. but things were rough and it didn’t seem like they were gonna get better.

both of you were at fault. the constant anxiety about the state of the world, the fear for the safety of friends and loved ones who may be more in danger than you, the overwhelming sense that there was no end in sight: it just compounded day after day. neither of you were handling it well and you took it out on the other. you both knew it, too. every time you blew up at him for whatever he had done to tick you off that day, twenty minutes later you were wracked with guilt. and if joe cooking you your favorite meal for dinner one night after he had gone off on you that morning was any indication, he felt the exact same way.

you were terrified. you didn’t want to lose him. while things were rough, he was still your rock while the entire world was crumbling outside.

the problem was you were both out of your element. how do you fix something like this? who knows how to fix a relationship that is in danger as a result of a global pandemic?

all you knew how to do was love. and by god, you loved him.

you knew he loved you, too. joe always said it. no matter what happened during the day, no matter if he had spent the last few hours giving you the silent treatment, no matter if you had told him that afternoon that the sound of his voice was grating your brain, when the two of you climbed into bed each night, he’d still whisper out a soft “i love you.”

sometimes he said it while you were tucked into his side, holding each other as close as possible as you drifted off to sleep. sometimes he said it while you had your back to him, practically on the edge of the bed as you cried silent tears. but he always said it.

and no matter how upset you were, you always said it back.

so why did you feel like he was slipping away?

and that’s when it hit you. it was one thing to tell someone you love them. but it was another thing to show someone you love them.

all it took was little things here and there. one of the main causes of joe’s stress was the uncertainty around his career. who knew when movies would start being made again? so every time you noticed him frustratedly tapping away at his laptop, you simply stood behind the couch and allowed your fingers to sink into his shoulders, kneading the tension out of his muscles. he always thanked you with a content sigh, a peck on the cheek, and a “thank you, baby.” 

you made him sandwiches when he got so wrapped up in writing his latest screenplay that he forgot to eat. 

when some vinyl records he had been on the lookout for popped up on ebay, you quickly snatched them up. you even made him open up the package when it arrived, his reaction making your heart swell. when he pulled you into his arms and kissed you with a passion you hadn’t felt from him in weeks, you finally felt like things were getting better.

you had begun a new routine of taking a walk every afternoon. at first it started as a way to simply get some fresh air. then it had become a way to calm down and collect your thoughts after whatever that day’s fight was about. so when you asked joe if he wanted to go with you on your walk one day and were answered with a wide grin and a “i’d be honored” before he practically leapt to his feet and began to scour the apartment for his sneakers, you knew you could turn your walks into something better.

the two of you sauntered around the neighborhood, clad in your matching masks you had made months ago back when things had been okay. your shoulders bumped as you walked in a comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other’s company and the ambient sounds of the streets of the city.

by the third day in a row of your new walking routine, joe wove his fingers through yours and bought your knuckles to his fabric-covered lips.

“you know if we can make it through this, i feel like we can make it through anything,” he said as your joined hands swung lazily between the two of you. “no matter what life throws at us, i will always always always love you.”

a tear escaped as you smiled, giving joe’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“i’m sorry if i ever made you feel like that isn’t the case.”

you stopped and turned to joe, your free hand reaching up to cup his jaw.

“i’m sorry for temporarily forgetting to love you in the way you deserve to be loved,” you replied.

he pressed his forehead against yours, snaking his arm around you and pulling you close. then the world slipped away, leaving only the two of you, holding each other, loving each other.

it was all either of you knew how to do.

[ironstrange-is-the-endgame]

Okay, so this might just be my sleep deprived brain talking but. I rewatched endgame. And like Natasha calling the Avengers a family makes no sense??? Nat. I love you. But y'all were work friends at best. Like Natty, did we watch the same movies? You know the ones where y'all blame one person for everything, where y'all hide the truth bout they're parents death and then just leave em there or the fact that y'all only come to that person when y'all need something?

Sorry, I saw this before and didn’t actually have the time also we don’t speak about Endgame in this house.

When it comes to that sentence, though, I would have agreed with you if it was everyone else, but Nat has never taken parts since the relationship between the Avengers started to crumble and always did what she thought it was best for the team. Like, even at the end of CW, she could have run with Steve and Bucky but she doesn’t and I think that Tony being in BW will explain more. Like we know she didn’t even go with the Rogues because she is in Russia at least for a while between CW and IW.

And then we also have to consider where she comes from. I doubt they’ll ever show us the entire storyline with Recluse, but basically in the Red Room she’s been manipulated into believing that they did all the things they did to her to protect her and the other girls, so it’s a huge change to get to live with SHIELD first and the Avengers later.

I’ve written hundreds of words about what I think Nat actually knows of the entire mission report: 16th December 1992 but that mostly headcanon from my part, so yeah, I guess that the avengers are what she believes a family should be (the only other example she has are the Bartons and with Clint working for Shield I doubt the situation is anywhere better) and that’s why she says that. “The Avengers weren’t my first family,” is what she says in her own movie trailer which, once again, I think we should see before speculate about, but I guess it’s not like family of the year. Nat’s around 33/32 in that movie - according to her birthday in TWS- and Yelena is even younger and it’s implied that they’ve finished the Red Room training around the age of 12/14 at best - first period - this means that they had time to fight side by side with Alexei and I don’t remember her name, Malina I think, before Nat started working for KGB. They could have been a family for what 3/4 years?! Like, she has no idea of what a family really is and how the Avengers accepted her with her past and trusted her, well it’s certainly something.

How other people treated Tony, well... we know that like 90% of this comes from someone entering a certain helicarrier with a clear idea about Tony Stark and not being able to slow down a bit and realizing who the man really is.