#gonna post something where they’re standing next to each other and I’m like… do I ship tag this? lol? 😂

[yappacadaver]

Do you even get it??? There’s one (1) ☝️ ship in my fandom and I don’t even ship it. I might as well throw myself in the air fryer

[asapeveryday]

SHOCK FACTOR★彡 Part 1

Next Chapter.

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Rival!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Summary: After a close game and a couple bad decisions, the media has pitted you and Paige against each other. When you finally meet off the court you’re not sure what to expect…

A/n: got many requests for some sort of rival player type-thing!!! I combined some ideas to please the masses :) there will be more parts obv. This chap is pretty long so sorry for that!!

___________________________________________________________

“This question here is for Paige again. Now, is there anything you have to say about the little altercation near the end of the third quarter with number 3 on USC? it was quite a tense moment!”

The blonde smirks to herself, her hand rubbing her forehead. “There ain’t much to say. I went for the ball and obviously she did too. I’m not tryna give anything up, I jus personally think I got it first but that doesn’t matter anymore.” She shrugs. “Thas it.”

There’s a pause for a moment, before she opens her mouth again. “I will say though, ion have much patience for players who can’t control their language.”

Her teammates share looks at this comment, and the reporters attempt to press further but Geno ensures Paige doesn’t talk for the rest of the press conference.

“(Name) how many times have you watched this fuckin video.” JuJu comes up from behind you, scaring the shit out of you and snapping you back to reality.

“I haven’t watched it that much.” You roll your eyes. “I just…never mind.”

“It’s time to move on, shit like this happens. Jus gotta keep on that grind.” She says, sitting down beside you. Despite being a freshman, Juju was naturally mature. You and her had become a popular junior/freshman duo both on and off the court. You pushed her harder and she kept you on your toes.

“I’m moved on.” You huff.

“No you’re not…look at yo hands gripping your phone.” She laughs and you roll your eyes.

The issue wasn’t the prolonged tussle for the ball when your team played UConn, it wasn’t Paige barely regarding you, or her shading the occasional curse you’d let slip during a game. These things all fuelled what really was bothering you. The way you responded.

TWO WEEKS EARLIER, POST UCONN GAME

“Where’s JuJu? Prolly eating or something she’s lowkey a big back.”

You laugh at your roommates response to the question. It had been a weird couple of days since USC faced UConn, usually there wasn’t a lot of buzz around women’s college games but this year was different. The media was all up on everyone, especially UConn since Paige returned in better health for her senior year. You decided to go live to have some fun and interact with your viewers, even though your mind was elsewhere.

“What were your thoughts on how you guys played Connecticut?” You read aloud from the chat. “Um, they’re great. I mean it was pretty close. Me and the girls did what we could and we’re gonna kill it next year, so.” You say, perfectly passive and normal. In your head you were furious at how close the game had been, but there was nothing you could do.

Near the end of the third quarter, you and Paige had a little tussle for possession of the ball. You could’ve sworn you’d gotten it before pale skinned hands darted out for the grab, almost stealing it from you before your instincts kicked in and managed your grip. You vividly remember the yells from teammates, coaches and the stands as you and Paige momentarily wrestled for the ball, her tongue sticking out between her lips and her eyes determined before number 3 on her team tore her away.

Grazing your hand against hers at the end of the game was humiliating, and she was undoubtedly looking forward to it; holding your fingers a moment too long before letting out the most agitating, self-fulfilled “good game” with a smile that would’ve warranted a punch to her teeth had you not been on camera.

You didn’t bother to smile back, but muttered a perfectly timed “bitch” just as her hand let go of yours. Nobody heard it except you and her, and the subtle change in expression from haughty to straight faced was a beautiful sight for sore eyes.

“They keep asking about the thing with Paige.” Your roomie reads, and you shove her. “Bro why’d you say that out loud…now I have to address it.” You whisper to her, annoyed. She wasn’t on the team, and didn’t think about things like that.

She shoots an apologetic look, and you decide to act like nothing happened. The damage is done though, because now all the comments are about Paige.

“You handled the press good after.”

“If I was you I would’ve taken it off the court ngl”

“You were wrong for that!”

“What happened with Paige???”

“The way she was looking at u after….mm”

“Did you see what she said on the panel?”

Scanning through the various questions you found it harder and harder to not think about it. Basketball is a contact sport, things like a fight for the ball weren’t rare. Sure it was a little aggressive, but nothing you weren’t ready for. Paige seemed ready herself, her hands gripping the already-in-your-grasp ball, her eyes shooting you the coldest look they could muster. You’d already seen edits of her all over social media, tousling with you for a moment before being dragged off by Aaliyah.

JuJu walks into your dorm and sits next to you, reading the comments as well. She slightly shakes her head at all the mentions of Paige, but greets the chat nevertheless.

Fuck it. It’s late night, you’ve been getting annoyed by all of this attention on Paige and you, and people weren’t gonna forget about it anytime soon. One comment won’t hurt.

“Did I see what Paige said on the panel?” You read out loud. JuJu shoots you a look. “Yeah…I did. ” You say, suspicious as possible. “Ion know…i jus don’t have much patience for that swiper no swiping shihhh…..stuff.” You mock Paige, then catch yourself before fully saying shit. Two digs at the blonde at UConn in one sentence, one for her statement and the other for her criticism on your swearing.

You, your roommate and JuJu all look at each other for what seems like an eternity before bursting into an explosion of laughter. You were just being petty, it didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.

It kinda was.

PRESENT TIME

You’ve always loved east-coast America. It has a different kind of feel, especially during spring. The weather was getting hotter and everyone is hyped for summer break, at least those without classes. You and some of your teammates were going on a little Big East road trip, and of course the east meant places like New York, Michigan, Boston, Rhode Island, Connecticut.

God, you weren’t ready for Connecticut. The media was really eating you and Paige’s (non-existent) beef up, and you wondered if it would translate into real life. What was worse was that you had a friend who went to UConn who you were seeing for sure.

“I am not coming to your school.” You said hastily over the phone.

“Chill.” Elaine, your friend responded. “Nobody wants you here anyways.”

“Shuttuppppp it’s not funny.” You whine, knowing she was joking but hoping there was no truth in the statement. You could handle the smoke of a mini rivalry, but confrontation was just awkward.

“Just be ready. The minute you’re in town let me know, we can go to my favourite bar.” She laughs.

“Got it.” You respond happily. You were gonna have a fun night out, things were gonna be chill. You’d maybe have a drink…maybe get hammered. It was gonna be good.

-

“You should go live.”

“No fucking way.” You shake your head. The bar was crowded, but nice. You understand why your friend wanted to take you.

“Are most of these people UConn kids?” You ask.

“Yeah.” Elaine responds, looking around. “This is like the Storrs hangout spot on a Friday night. Anyways, I’ve missed seeing your lives.”

“I know, I know.” You rub your head. “I literally can’t though. Like, I’m on a social media ban. Goddd, after that last live you don’t get how much shit I got.”

“I thought it was funny!” She says, and you smile. “Oh my god (Name), did you see her tweet after.”

“BYE.” you cover your face, laughing. A couple hours after the live, Paige had tweeted some sort of passive aggressive very targeted thing about how God has her back when people give her a hard time or something like that. You’d almost died when it showed on your TL.

“Have you seen all the edits comparing me n her.” You manage to get out between laughs. Sure, you didn’t have the spectacular reputation Paige did. The girl had started her college career stronger then literally everyone else, and she was top pick to begin with. Her return to the court was well anticipated, even by you.

Still despite that, you had a certain sparkle in game. You played flashy, but you could back it up. Your freshman year you were very much an underdog, a stark difference from Paige, but your sophomore year had been very different, and this year as a junior you were getting recognition that almost gave you whiplash. Your talent was undoubted.

“I think both of you guys are being extra careful on socials now.” Elaine says. “I mean Paige is pretty active, but when they go live the minute your name is brought up, which it always is, she like…mysteriously disappears from view. It’s actually funny.”

“Whatever.” You say, taking a swig of your drink. “As funny as it is, I’m tired of all this shit, it’s unnecessary. Let’s forget about her.”

Elaine lets out a cough, before covering her face. “Pfft. Um, yeah. Let’s forget about it.”

“What….what is it?” You say, raising an eyebrow. Your friends eyes are stuck behind you. When you turn on the barstool as conspicuously as possible, you feel your stomach physically lurch.

“You’re fucking kidding.”

“We have great luck.” Elaine muffles a laugh.

You spin back towards her, talking through bared teeth. “You brought me to Storrs’s most popular bar on a Friday night…Storrs…fuck. That’s their campus? Seriously??!”

“Don’t be mad.” She sheepishly smiles. “I don’t pay that much attention to them…I didn’t think it through.”

“Boo, you whore. Even I know they’re like, bar-fiends.” You grumble, putting your head down. “God, just put your head down, cover me, something. I’m not tryna do this right now.”

Covering your eyes and keeping your back to the group, you ask. “How many of them are here. Tell me exactly who.”

“Umm, I don’t know all of them.” She says.

“Bitch just tell me…I swear to god.” You sneer, casually attempting to turn, discreetly letting your eyes graze the masses before they meet a pair of blue ones.

Shit.

Her eyes hold yours for a moment too long. Her hair is down instead of her signature ponytail and braids. She’s dressed casually, and posed confidently. Her expression is one of surprise…then amusement…and then something you can’t quite recognize. When her friends start to follow her gaze, you finally turn away.

“Elaine, I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. You always say you can handle the smoke, right?”

“Yeah when I’m in California I can…not when I’m in a UConn infested bar with Paige fucking Bueckers and her cult staring me down.”

“They’re really staring. Oh, KK just pointed at you.” Elaine says, looking at them obviously. You fix your posture and adjust your hair at this.

“Are they like…coming over?”

“Yep.” She murmurs under her breath, indicating they’re close.

“Umm, hey.” A voice says from behind you. It’s low, almost raspy. You remember it being way more strained and arrogant on the court. In the bar, it was almost attractive.

“Hey.” You say, as cool as possible. Turning to face Paige and her teammates usually wouldn’t have intimidated you, you could hold your ground and you were confident in yourself, but here? On their turf? With none of your own teammates? And a couple drinks in you? Your body was already tingling, and you were terrified you would say something to dig your hole deeper.

“Think I could get a picture?” Paige says. She sounds likes she’s severely forcing herself, arms crossed and drink already half empty despite just entering the bar. Azzi’s face breaks into an amused smirk beside her, and her other friends hang back with giggly expressions.

“A…picture?” You say, confused. The three of you stare at each other for an awkward moment before you break the silence. “Sorry…that was rude of me, my bad. I just wasn’t expecting that.” You laugh. “If you actually want a picture I can do that for you.”

“Thanks.” Paige smiles, but there’s no happiness behind it. When she poses by you, her hand just hovers above your waist. She can’t even bring herself to touch you. You give your best smile as Azzi takes the picture on Paige’s phone.

When she shows it to the two of you, you realize why Paige might’ve wanted that picture.

“You’re gonna really shock everyone when you post that.” You say, laughing. Paige’s face finally breaks to a more authentic smirk that sends shivers down your spine. It’s like the one she wore when you two were facing each other on the court. Proud, confident, ready for anything.

“Never let em’ know your next move.” She says, eyes piercing yours.

-

As the night goes on the bar gets more and more busy, you have to yell over the music for Elaine to hear you. You’re not exactly trying to talk to her though, because she’s mostly talking about Paige.

“You know she’s sort of a campus heart-throb right?”

“What??” You yell, although you’ve perfectly heard what she’s said.

“She’s. Hot. Maybe you should flirt with her a little.” Elaine says.

You just shake your head. “I’m gonna get another drink.”

Your luck is spectacular for the night, because there are no barstool seats left except one a little too close to Paige, who’s sitting alone and waiting for her drink. You silently curse, but are thankful her team isn’t there too. You sit by her as confidently as possible, avoiding her gaze.

She’s watching you indubitably, noting every move you make. Your posture as you sit, the Polaroid behind your clear phone case, the way your lips move when you ask the bartender for your favourite drink, these are all thinks she seemingly makes note of.

You can’t help but overhear her scoff at your drink choice, to which you finally turn and acknowledge her, raising your eyebrow.

“Out of everything you could’ve ordered you got that?” She says, haughty as ever.

“Not everyone is trying to get white-girl-wasted.” You respond curtly, eyeing her Dirty Shirley.

Paige scoffs. “You don’t talk as big as you do on your lives.”

Shrugging, you respond “Someone asked a question and I answered, simple as that.”

“Ion know bout that one.” She rolls her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think you’re just feining for people to talk bout you.”

This bitch. You internally think, brows furrowed at her statement. “Wouldn’t have even been brought up if you hadn’t let your fatass ego get in the way of your media training during that press conference.” You sneer. “Now that is feining for people to talk..”

“Someone asked a question and I answered.” She smiles, sending a hot flash of anger throughout your body. “Simple as that.”

“You think you’re so smart.” You grumble out, turning your head from her. The sheer arrogance is radiating from her body, it’s annoying you to no end.

“I am.” She says, as if it’s common knowledge. “Plus, I’m not the one who started twisting words. That was you, remember?”

When your drink is finally set in front of you, you make a point to get up from the stool and grab it, sending Paige a steely look. “Good talk, Bueckers.”

“Aye, wait a sec.”

You’re already walking away, taking a big gulp of your drink when she slides off of her stool and catches up, walking beside you. You don’t miss how her eyes flick to your mouth when you wipe it clean, facing her begrudgingly.

“Why’re you even here?” She asks. “Visiting yo girlfriend?”

“Who, Elaine?” You laugh, Elaine being the straightest girl you know. “Why’re you so interested?”

“Wasn’t expecting to see some California girl in Storrs. You sure you weren’t plotting on seeing me?” Paige grins, taking a step towards you. She’s taller then you, and the way she tilts her head downwards when she speaks gives you an unrecognizable feeling that you’re planning to blame on the alcohol.

“I got up close and personal with you once, and it was enough.” You smile, holding her stare. She chews on the straw of her Shirley, her expression both amused and something else.

“Ion think so.” She mumbles.

“You don’t have to think.” You respond, looking her up and down for a moment. It feels like an eternity passes as you two challenge each other, the air gets thicker by the minute and you finally break away from her, walking as confidently as you can, far from where she can see you.

-

You don’t see Paige again after that, presumably because her and her friends went elsewhere. Laying in a hotel room next to your teammates, you can’t help but think about the blonde and how odd your interaction was. She had this way of looking at you like she knew exactly what you were thinking, even though you knew damn well she knew nothing except for how you were on the court. Still, despite how her voice made your skin itch and her mannerisms induced the need for violence, there was something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

As if reading your mind, your phone began to vibrate uncontrollably. You check your notifications to see a sea of messages and a couple more alien ones on Instagram.

paigebueckers started following you.

paigebueckers tagged you in their story.

jujubballin sent you a story.

jujubballin sent you a message.

kenzie_4bs sent you a story.

kenzie_4bs sent you a message.

You accept Paige’s request and view her story, which features the picture of you and Paige. You sitting and her standing, her hand just hovering above your waist, her face a curt close-mouthed smile and yours wide and genuine. It’s an interesting photo which she’s captioned “Cali meets Connecticut!”

You scoff at her version of being witty, and immediately cringe at the sheer amount of traction the post has gotten already, with at least 50 people in your inbox within the first 15 minutes of the post coming out. The messages range from “The crossover we needed!!” To “Ik you wanted to punch her white-ass” and frankly it was all too much for you. Social media, Connecticut, the messages, Paige.

She seemed to be the main article of stress in your life the past couple weeks and it seemed to smart to keep a distance from her from this point onward.

The girl really knows how to induce that shock factor.

[lilithknoxville]

Could u do a Johnny smut where her nipples are pierced and he gets turned on by it???

Barbells and Bitemarks (Johnny Knoxville x Fem! Reader) (18+!)

Summary: “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Content Warnings: Graphic Smut, 18+, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Johnny is a massive whore here, Oral (Fem Receiving), Mild Dacryphilia, Semi Public Sex, Daddy Kink

Word Count: 4,285

AN: MY FIRST EVER ASK EEEEEEEEE!!!!! I literally wanna kiss this anon on the mouth for giving me this idea /j. Thank you so much for requesting something from me, and my inbox is ABSOLUTELY still open for more requests. I may have forty documents open of smuts but I will absolutely drop them for a request. This is high key the most fun I’ve had writing a story in a while :3 again no beta reader we die like men. Also I’m posting this at 4:00 in the morning so MANNNNNNN I’m tired. Prolly gonna pass out after this LOL. Okay here we gooooooooo! ✨

You huffed out a sigh, resting your head back against the wall you were leaned up against. Jeff’s voice droned on and on, giving information and safety on a stunt that you weren’t thrilled about being a part of. So you had tried to tune Jeff out as much as possible, but his loud and booming voice wasn’t letting you zone out. You kicked a leg over your other one, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. You looked over, seeing Johnny leaned over on the opposite wall from you. You smiled slightly, and an easy smile graced his lips as well. He pushed himself off of the wall, coming over to where you were standing. He dipped his head down, his voice hushed in your ear.

“Well ain’t you the vision of bein’ enthused?” Johnny asked, his lips quirked up in a smile. You snorted out a laugh as you looked up at him.

“I’m not exactly thrilled about being up on your shoulders, Knox. I’m fuckin’ terrified of heights, and you’re not exactly short.” You smiled at him, and he shook his head, laughing.

“I promise I ain’t gonna drop you, doll.” He gave a smile that had your stomach doing somersaults, and you growled uneasily.

“I’m holding you to that.” You wrinkled your nose, a smile on your lips, and he clapped a hand on your shoulder. Jeff’s booming voice caught your attention and you cast your gaze back towards where Jeff was standing.

“Hey lovebirds, you two wanna join our conversation?” Jeff called, and the amount of hoots and hollers from the rest of the cast had you pulling your beanie down to cover your face, “Anyways - Johnny, Bam, Ryan, and (Y/N), you guys are gonna be next up for shooting. We’re going to go ahead with Steve-O, Dave, and Ehren’s stunt.” Jeff looked down at his clipboard, nodding to cement what he had just said, “But stay on deck, I’m thinking this one’ll take about an hour. Go ahead and get changed into different clothes, and be on standby. Your guys’ stunt involves mud, and we’ve still got a whole day of shooting.” Jeff clapped his hands and you were all sent on your separate ways. You headed to the trailer they had set up specifically for you, Johnny on your heels like a lost puppy. Your feelings for Johnny were… confusing, to say the least. On one hand, he was your absolute best friend in the whole wide world; You were nothing but comfortable around him. You both laughed until you cried, leaned on the other for support, and you loved each other fiercely. On the other, you were beyond in love with him. Any laugh he gave at your jokes, any smile cast your way, and anytime he touched you (albeit all of them were innocent) lit you up from the inside out.

You entered the trailer, propping the door open with your foot as you waited for Johnny. You rolled your eyes, chuckling as he stepped into your trailer.

“You gotta follow me everywhere I go like a lovesick puppy?” You teased, watching as Johnny flopped down on the small couch set up in the trailer.

“Hey, I’m makin’ sure no one fucks with you, doll. You know how these boys are.” Johnny shrugged, resting one of his arms on the back of the couch. You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe with your hands behind your back. You kicked one leg over the other, rolling your eyes hard at Johnny’s comment.

“And you act like I’m not scared to beat anyone’s ass.” You snorted out a laugh, pushing off of the wall and going to the small wardrobe that was set up for you. You looked through the clothes, humming. Each outfit was marked with a name of a stunt, and you got to the one for this stunt. It was a sheer, white tank top with jean shorts. You held it up, looking at the outfit with scrutinizing eyes.

“Really?” Johnny barked out a laugh, shaking his head, “I mean - Sex sells, but if we’re sticking our only female cast member in somethin’ like this…” He chuckled again, letting out a puff of air from his nose. There was something unreadable in his eyes, and as you stared at him, trying to figure it out, he looked away, avoiding your eyes, “I dunno what they’re thinkin’.”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” You tore your eyes away from him, rolling them hard. You heaved out a sigh, giving the outfit one last scrutinous glare, “But I don’t think I really have that much of a choice.” You hung the hanger on the back of a chair, your hands coming to your hoodie’s hem. You pulled your hoodie off over your head, but you failed to realize you had grabbed the bottom of your shirt as well. Immediately, you were standing in a sheer, lace bralette in front of Johnny.

Time seemed to freeze as his eyes raked over you - how the bralette pushed your boobs together, the black lace against your skin, and the two barbells pushed through each of your nipples. You yelped and covered your chest with your arm, your face flushing a bright red.

“Shit! I’m fucking sorry!” You cried, moving your arm from over your chest to try and get your shirt out of the hoodie. Your hands trembled as frantic apologies tumbled from your lips, when suddenly Johnny’s hands were covering yours.

You looked up to see him standing in front of you, his face the same shade of red as yours. His face was calm, however, and a smile ghosted over his lips.

“Doll, you ain’t gotta freak out.” His voice was quiet, a murmur, as he helped you pull the shirt out of the hoodie, “But when were you gonna tell me you’ve got piercings?” He asked, a wolfish grin on his lips. You smacked his arm with a hand, your other hand covering your chest with your shirt.

“You’re an ass!” You chuckled, your face still feeling warm, “What - Nipple piercings a turn on for you or somethin’?” You teased, chuckling awkwardly.

“Yes, actually.” His answer made you stop short. Your eyes raked over his face, looking for any sign he was joking, but there was nothing more than a cool smirk on his face. His eyes were dark, pools of lust swimming in them. The sight alone was enough to make your knees weak, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“Wh-What?” You stammered, making him snicker. His hands, which had fallen down by his sides, came up to your shoulders.

“Do I gotta spell it out for you, doll?” Johnny’s voice dropped a couple of octaves, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked, “I’m into girls with piercin’s, and I’m much more into them when they’re on your gorgeous ass.”

Your head was absolutely swimming, the thoughts swirling through your head nothing that would be considered safe for work. But Johnny’s voice brought you back down to Earth;

“Now, you gonna let Daddy see my babygirl’s piercin’s?” He purred, his hands tracing circles on your shoulders. You shuddered under his hands, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He leaned forward, dipping his head down, and captured your lips in a kiss. Immediately, all of the breath was stolen from your lungs, and your hands scrambled to his shoulders. The kiss started off as slow and soft at first, but it slowly progressed to bruising and passionate.

He growled against your lips, something primal flaring in his chest. This wasn't just some casual kiss; this was a decade of suppressed emotions and desires erupting to the surface for the both of you. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you against him firmly, as if he was afraid of you slipping away.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to tease at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You opened your mouth, accepting his tongue to touch around. You were secretly very thankful that he didn’t try and jam his tongue so far down your throat that you gagged. His free hand moved up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you captive against him.

Finally, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, and your cheeks were flushed a brilliant red. You searched Johnny’s eyes for a moment, a small, breathless giggle leaving your lips. Johnny had the same breathlessness you did, his lips quirking up in a half smile.

“Well, if I didn’t know any better, doll, I’d say you’ve been waitin’ for me to do that for a while.” His voice was barely above a whisper, his hand cradling your face. You looked up at him with humor filled eyes, giggling.

“Good thing you know better, hmm?” You asked, giving him a teasing smile. His smile darkened and before you knew it, he had you up in the air, his arms locked around your waist. You squealed and giggled, as Johnny walked over to the small couch that was in your trailer.

He tossed you on the couch, your back pressed dully into the cushions. He crawled in between your legs, his face ghosting over yours. His breath was stolen from his lungs as he looked down at the goddess laid before him, your cheeks flushed the prettiest salmon. You looked up at him, pupils blown wide with lust and want. It intoxicated him in the best way possible, and it made him want more.

More he got, as your hands snaked around his neck and pulled him back down roughly. Your lips reconnected and Johnny grunted against your lips, his hands going to your hips to raise them up against him. In this new angle, you could feel the hard press of the growing bulge in Johnny’s jeans.

He pulled away from the bruising kiss, his breath fanning heavy over your face. A smile tugged at his lips, his head dipping down to your neck. Hot opened mouth kisses were pressed into your skin, the sharp edges of his teeth pressing gently into your neck. You writhed and whimpered under him, his hands tracing your sides with the softest of touches.

“This okay?” He murmured against your skin as his fingers danced at the hem of your bralette, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah, ‘m good.” You breathed out, helping him take off your bralette. He threw it into a random corner, his hands shaking as they ghosted over your breasts.

His eyes stayed stationary on the black barbells pushed through either of your nipples. Slowly, as if he was hesitant, his hands came to your breasts, kneading them. You let out a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. His nimble fingers danced over the barbells, and you sucked in a breath through your teeth.

“Yeah? Sensitive, ain’tcha?” He breathed out, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and your breasts, “My pretty girl.” He breathed out, pressing kisses to the tops of your breasts.

His head dipped lower, his lips attaching to one of your nipples. It was like an electric current was sent through your whole body, the warm feeling of his mouth on the cold barbell made you shoot up. Your back arched, as a shaky wail came from your mouth. Johnny pulled back immediately, his face flashing with concern.

“No, no, no!” You babbled, whining deep in your throat, “Pl-Please.” You begged, your breath coming out in pathetic sounding pants.

“Well, I gotta listen when you’re beggin’ so pretty for me.” Johnny chuckled, dipping his head back down. His mouth went back to your nipple, the warm feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple making you wail again.

His hand dipped to your jeans, fumbling with the button as he tried to undo it with one hand. A huff of breath left his nose and he pulled off of your breast, focusing his attention on your jeans.

“Fuckin’ - goddamnit.” He cursed under his breath, making you giggle. You gently covered his hands with yours, helping him undo the button on your jeans, and you started to push them off of your hips. He caught the hem of your panties in his blunt nails, practically ripping both of them off of your legs. He threw both pieces of clothing to a random corner of your trailer, pushing your legs open. You tried to close your legs, a flare of embarrassment running hot through your veins, but he was much stronger than you were.

He growled, his lips kissing down your stomach, along your hip bone, tasting the cream of your skin mixed with the salt of sweat. He kissed down along your thigh, stopping just before where you needed it the most. You watched as his cheek pressed into your thigh, as he watched how you dripped and keened.

“Look at you, little one,” Johnny purred, causing you to whimper, your fingers tightening in his hair, “You got this wet just from Daddy playin’ with them sexy piercin’s?” The southern twang in his voice drove you crazy, but the fact that he bit into the soft of your thigh caused you to keen again.

“Jesus, don’t fucking tease me.” You whined, your voice coming out breathless and needy. Johnny nipped at the junction where your thigh met your pelvis, and the feeling made you shudder underneath his hands.

“You ain’t got a single idea how bad I’ve wanted you like this.” His breath fanned hot over your clammy skin, his lips kissing lower and lower until he was right above your clit, “Hearin’ you say my name like it’s the only prayer you’ve known.” He groaned, his tongue darting out and kitten licking across your clit.

His lips attached to your pussy, his tongue exploring every single part of you. You whined, throwing your head back against the couch, as his movements were slow, agonizing in the best way possible. He switched between his tongue thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy and sucking on your clit. You let out a strangled moan as he offered a hard suck of your clit.

“Goddamn, babygirl. You taste just like honey.” He grunted against you, pulling back slightly, and wetting his middle and ring finger with his own saliva, “Could spend the rest of my life right here, face pressed into this fuckin’ pussy.” He murmured, lowering his head again. His lips attached to your clit, his middle finger slowly dipping into your pussy.

You came lighting up off of the couch, wailing out his name as he curled his finger, finding the spongy tissue that had you seeing stars. He chuckled against you, the vibration of his laugh making your heart flip in your chest.

His ministrations were eager, and before you knew it, he was adding the second finger into you. He curled his fingers hard, the pleasure thrumming through your veins hitting an all time high. Your hands came to his hair, your hips rolling against his face.

The coil inside your core started to wind tighter and tighter, as you shamelessly grinded against his face, trying to pull yourself closer to an orgasm. He moaned eagerly against you, clearly enjoying the entire situation himself. Tighter and tighter the coil inside you wound, Johnny’s little grunts and moans against you doing nothing to help the situation.

The coil snapped, your orgasm rattling through your bones - your moans breathless and high pitched - as Johnny drank up all of your slick. Your breaths were heavy and ragged, Johnny’s face still firmly planted between your thighs. The feeling started to border on overstimulating, so you tapped his head three times shakily. Johnny finally pulled his head back, his chin and lips wet.

“Fuckin’ hell, you’re gonna kill me, doll.” He grunted against your hipbone, laughing shakily, “Usin’ my face like your own personal throne, I could get used to that.” He looked up at you with humor filled eyes, crawling back up towards your lips.

You kissed him breathlessly, tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned shamelessly into his mouth, your hands making quick work of ripping his shirt off of him and pushing his jeans down to his knees. He kicked off his shoes, awkwardly shoving his jeans off of his legs, the denim falling unceremoniously to the floor.

You adjusted on the couch, laying flat on your back horizontally, and Johnny slotted himself between your legs, the thick press of his cock against your weeping slit making you mewl. He fumbled around for a moment, trying to find his jeans.

“I’m on the-” You raised your arm, tapping your bicep, “-thing in arm. Good for three years.” You dropped your arm, your hand running down his chest. “You’re good. I’m clean.”

“You sure?” He asked, his eyes meeting yours, “Can’t promise I’m gonna last long feelin’ this pussy raw.” He admitted, laughing awkwardly.

“I’m sure. No babies.” You pulled his face down to yours, kissing him breathlessly, “Pump me full of cum, Daddy.” You purred.

“Jesus Ch-“ He let out a strangled grunt, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned hot against your face, his breath shaky, “You tryna give an old man a heart attack?” He asked, his voice shaking. He opened his eyes, silently asking if it was okay again. You nodded, and he slowly started to push into you.

The feeling of his thick cock stretching you out made you wail into his shoulder, your blunt nails digging into his shoulders. Slowly, agonizingly, he pushed in until he bottomed out. His breath was catching in his throat, his arm twitching as he gripped onto the back of the couch for dear life.

“Fuckin’ hell, babygirl.” He grunted out, letting out a trembling exhale of breath, “Pussy’s like a goddamned vice around me.” He spoke through gritted teeth, staying still to let you get used to the feeling of him inside you.

It was a silent couple of seconds before your muscles started to relax and he was able to start thrusting shallowly in and out of you. You whimpered and keened underneath him, and he hadn’t even gotten started yet.

“Harder…” You whispered, your voice begging helplessly, “Daddy, please.”

“Anything my babygirl wants.” Johnny whispered back to you, his hands moving to wrap around your neck, pulling himself impossibly closer to you. His hips slowly sped up, the pace rough but not brutal. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath heavy in your ear.

“Shit, Johnny.” You sucked in a breath through your teeth, whimpering in his ear as he set a steady pace. His hipbones smacked against your ass, causing a dull pain that only accentuated the pleasure.

It was a few moments of this steady pace before Johnny suddenly pulled back from where he was buried in your neck. You looked up at him with dazed eyes, confusion etching into your features. He shuddered out a breath as he met your eyes, a shaky smile crossing his face.

His hands shoved your thighs back, pushing your knees almost to your chest. In this angle, you could feel every inch of his cock as he pounded into you. You threw your head back, wailing out a mix of his name and a guttural scream. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you threw your head back against the small couch.

“Yeah, that’s it, my sweet girl.” He grunted through gritted teeth, his breath coming out in bursts, “You take Daddy’s cock so fucking well. This goddamned pussy was made for this cock - Fuck!” He snarled, his hips speeding up. All you could do was hold on for dear life, your mind swimming with nothing but him and how fucking good this felt.

His hands came to your breasts, his fingers tweaking one of the barbells. Between his nimble fingers on your nipples sending waves of heat to your core, and him making a complete mess of your pussy, you felt yourself coming undone at the seams. The familiar coil in your core was winding tighter and tighter by the second, and the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes fell down your face. The pleasure was starting to border on the perfect blend of amazing and almost cruel. You met his eyes, your vision blurry from the tears, and you could see he had a wolfish grin on his lips.

“Yeah, that’s it. Cry over how fucking good this cock is.” He snarled, dipping his head down to your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses against your skin, “Could fucking live in this pussy, babygirl, Jesus Christ-!” His thrusts were getting sloppy, and you wailed out his name again, the coil suddenly snapping in your core. Your eyes rolled back in your head as your body trembled, your pussy fluttering around him. Your body felt taut, as your orgasm rippled through your bones.

“Oh fuck, babygirl-“ He grunted out, his thrusts brutal and rapid, “Just like that… Daddy’s gonna fucking cum all in this pussy.” He growled in your ear, and all you could do was hold on for dear life.

A couple seconds later, he stilled, letting out a moan that would make a pornstar blush. His cock twitched and pulsed inside of you as thick, hot ropes of cum filled you. You writhed, still trying to come down from your high.

It was a silent couple of seconds as the two of you remembered how to breathe, and you were the first to make any form of a sound. You chuckled breathlessly, meeting Johnny’s eyes.

“Well, remind me to accidentally strip in front of you more often.” You panted out, bringing your arms up and pulling Johnny into a kiss. His hands cradled the back of your head, holding your lips to his. He broke the kiss, laughing softly against your lips.

“Ain’t gotta be accidental no more, doll.” He pressed kiss after kiss to your lips, “You got me hooked around your lil’ finger.” He smiled down at you, before the sound of someone banging on the door made you both jump. You swore under your breath, your heart racing.

“Ye-Yeah?” You called, putting a finger to Johnny’s lip to shush him.

“Hey, are you two done fucking already? Your guys’ stunt is about to start.” Ehren’s voice, which had the edge of awkwardness to it, rang out through the door and it took everything in you to not want to melt into the floor from embarrassment.

“Why, you wanna join?” Johnny called and you smacked his arm, his loud cackle of a laugh making you roll your eyes.

“Gross! Fuck no!” Ehren’s voice was high pitched, and you could almost see him cringing, “Fucking hell, Knox. Just get dressed and get your guys’ asses out here. Jeff’s pissed.” Ehren walked away from the door, and you could hear his soft muttering as he walked away. You snorted out a laugh, cringing as Johnny pulled out of you. He grabbed a couple of tissues from a table nearby, getting you as cleaned up as possible.

“Well, I’m gonna have my own cum running down my neck.” He joked, and you groaned.

“Ew! Johnny!” You whined, and he barked out a laugh.

“What? I’m right!” He had a twinkle in his eye, helping you get up from the couch. Your hair was a mess, and your neck was covered with all sorts of love bites, “I ain’t the one who decided you were gonna wear shorts that barely cover your ass while you’re up on my damn shoulders!” He helped you get dressed, putting on his own clothes quickly afterwards.

“So…” You trailed off, letting him run a brush through your hair. You smiled at the odd intimacy of the action, and he hummed, a question of ‘Go on?’, “When’s round two?” You asked, the question hanging thickly in the air.

“Let’s win this stupid chicken fight ‘tween Bam and Ryan, and maybe then we’ll talk.” He chuckled darkly in your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Don’t worry, babygirl. I’ll have you walkin’ funny sooner rather than later.” He growled in your ear, sending a rush through you. He patted your butt, shaking his head, “But come on. Before the Almighty Tremaine slits our damn throats for fuckin’ up his perfect lil’ schedule.”

You exited your trailer, and if it wasn’t for the love bites on your neck and the flush that covered your cheeks, you were sure no one would have pegged you for having just had sex with Johnny. You, of course, would have been wrong.

“How big’s his cock, (Y/N)?” Bam all but screamed at you when you and Johnny made it to the set, and you bristled for a moment, “Come on, everyone heard you screamin’ his name!”

“Jealous, are we?” Johnny asked, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “Too bad she ain’t gonna ever scream your name, Bambi.”

You chuckled, trying to pull your beanie down to hide your face in embarrassment. But as you looked up at Johnny, who was harassing Bam about being jealous still, that weird love you had for Johnny settled in your stomach again. But those were feelings for another day. You had more pressing matters, namely throwing Bam and Ryan off of a wooden beam so you could get round two.

You had a pretty good feeling you’d be getting what you wanted, regardless of what Johnny had said.

[shokosmokes]

﹒◌﹒hockey au﹒✧﹒

hi! so this is super self indulgent based on this post i made hehe n im super excited to write this, i hope u enjoy (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

this is probably gonna be super lengthy so this is just part one lol

copy-pasted from my notes app so sorry if there’s any errors

masterlist

———————————————————————————————————

megumi x reader x yuji love triangle

tooth rotten fluff with a bit of angst

The music is loud—too loud for your taste—but you don’t really care. You’re not here for the party, not really. You’re here because you promised some new friends you’d show up. After all, that’s what people do when they want to feel like they belong, right? Pretend to be interested in house parties with thumping bass, cheap beer, and sweaty college students pressed together like sardines.

You tug at the sleeves of your sweater nervously, trying to blend into the wall, regretting not bringing a drink. At least it would’ve given your hands something to do. You scan the crowded living room, your eyes flicking over the mass of people, mind wandering until you spot a familiar face—or rather, two.

Yuji Itadori is hard to miss. His bright pink hair stands out against the dim lighting, and he’s laughing at something, his wide grin infectious even from across the room. Next to him, Megumi Fushiguro looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, his expression as unreadable as ever. The complete opposite of Yuji’s playful demeanor.

It’s funny how they balance each other out like that. Yuji, the bright, silly one who lights up every room he walks into, and Megumi, the quiet, brooding one, always watching from the sidelines. You haven’t known them long, but even you can tell they’re close in a way that most people would envy.

And yet, here you are, watching them, unsure of where you fit into the picture.

“Hey!” Yuji’s voice suddenly cuts through the noise as he jogs over to you, his face lighting up when he sees you. “You came! I didn’t think you’d show up.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of his excitement wash over you. “I almost didn’t, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” His grin widens, and he turns, waving toward Megumi, who’s still standing by the drinks table, looking completely out of place. “Megumi, come over here! She’s finally here!”

Megumi’s eyes flick over to you, and for a moment, your gazes lock. His expression softens slightly, but he doesn’t smile. Instead, he gives a small nod and walks over, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low but steady.

“Hey,” you echo, feeling your pulse quicken for no good reason.

The three of you stand there for a moment, Yuji’s energy bouncing between you, while Megumi’s silence settles like a blanket over the noise of the party. You feel the tension immediately. Not in a bad way, just... tension. The kind that makes your heart race for reasons you can’t quite put your finger on.

“So,” Yuji begins, clearly trying to break the silence, “have you been to any of our hockey games yet? We’ve got a big one coming up next week.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden change in topic. Hockey? Right. They’re both on the team, something you keep forgetting since you’ve never actually seen them play. It’s not really your thing, but the thought of seeing them on the ice—sweaty and focused—sends a strange shiver down your spine.

“No, I haven’t been to any yet,” you admit. “But maybe I’ll come to the next one.”

Yuji’s eyes light up like you’ve just made his day. “You should! It’s gonna be great. Megumi’s an amazing defender. You’ll love it.”

You glance at Megumi, who shifts uncomfortably under Yuji’s praise. “I’m not that great,” he mutters.

“You’re amazing, dude,” Yuji counters, playfully nudging his friend. “Don’t be so modest.”

You find yourself smiling at their dynamic. It’s hard not to get swept up in Yuji’s enthusiasm. “Okay, fine. I’ll come,” you say, laughing a little at how easily you’ve been convinced.

“Awesome!” Yuji’s grin is infectious. “I’ll make sure you get a good seat.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you, something quiet and unreadable flickering in them. It isn’t uncomfortable, but it makes your heart race in a way that you’re not sure you’re ready to acknowledge.

You’re not here for hockey. You’re not here for parties. But somehow, being here with them feels like it’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.

---

Later that week, you find yourself sitting in the cold, buzzing arena, clutching a cup of hot chocolate as you watch the players take to the ice. You have to admit, there’s something captivating about watching them skate, the fluid motion of their bodies gliding across the rink. Your eyes keep wandering back to two figures—Yuji and Megumi.

Yuji is in his element, grinning even through his helmet, waving to the crowd every chance he gets. His energy is infectious, even from the stands. Megumi, on the other hand, is focused, eyes narrowed in concentration as he defends the goal like his life depends on it. The contrast between them is striking.

Your stomach twists when Yuji skates by, throwing you a playful wink. He’s just so... Yuji. Bright, carefree, and completely unaware of the effect he has on people. On you.

And Megumi... God, Megumi.

Every time you see him on the ice, you feel that strange pull in your chest again. There’s something about him—something quiet and intense—that makes your heart race in a way you can’t explain. He isn’t as obvious as Yuji, but there’s a warmth to him, hidden beneath that cool, stone-faced exterior.

---

After the game, you’re surprised when both of them ask you to hang out—separately, of course.

Yuji wants to go to the arcade. Megumi invites you to a quiet coffee shop he likes, one tucked away from the busy part of campus.

You don’t know how to say no to either of them.

---

Megumi’s fingers brush yours as he hands you a book he thinks you’ll like, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he pulls back. “This one’s good,” he says softly, almost shyly. “If you’re into that kind of thing.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you take the book from him, your hands barely touching. “Thanks,” you whisper, feeling the weight of his attention settle over you.

Megumi is so... subtle. His affection, if it’s even that, comes in quiet gestures. A brush of fingers here, a soft look there. It makes your heart race in a way that feels... different. Dangerous, almost.

But then, there’s Yuji.

---

“Gotcha!” Yuji laughs as he beats you—again—at one of the games at the arcade, his playful grin lighting up his whole face.

You can’t help but laugh with him, your heart soaring at the pure joy in his eyes. Being with Yuji feels easy, like the sun has come out and everything is just... fun.

But it isn’t just fun. Not for you.

You’re torn. Between the boy who makes you feel safe, like a warm hug on a cold day, and the boy who sets your heart on fire, unpredictable and thrilling.

You don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending that you don’t feel anything for either of them.

———————————————————————

end of pt. 1 /).(\ pt. 2 coming very soon

[wrathofrats]

WRATH YOUR TAGS ON THE SWISSALPS??? HOW DARE YOUUUU IM IN SHAMBLES FUCKKKKK IM GONNA KMS IF U DONT WRITE IT PLEASEEEEEEE

LMAO HI DONT DO THAT I GOT U BESTIE

Original post

I got carried away and blacked out and it became 2k, idk what happened either.

Swiss is so inexperienced and very anxious and mountain is the sweetest actually. This is so awkward because these two are dorks so good luck.

Small small mentions of blood but it’s taken as a joke.

It wasn’t long after Swiss was summoned that he truly started to understand the bands dynamic. Day in and day out of watching his pack mates eye each other like a piece of meat, constant touching and flirting and there was many parts of Swiss that yearned to be included in it.

He didn’t feel ready. Half split between feeling left out as the two ghoulettes he came with have been bonded and together since summon, and the other ghouls really seemed to take to them after a couple days anyways. It wasn’t like no one took to him, but he’s never propositioned, desired, at least not in his line of sight. He feels like he would be intruding if he were to say anything. So he waits.

The other half worries partially about being inexperienced. Never used a human body, barely has even touched himself and god he’s probably embarrassing, no one wants to be with someone so inexperienced right?

He continues to think about it. Fuck he practically studies the other ghouls and sex and whatever the fuck they’re doing together because when the time comes he doesn’t want to embarrass himself. He’s genuinely afraid he will just get laughed out of the room if he’s not ready though he’s sure he’s probably acting insane.

Truly Swiss has no clue what to think.

He sits on his bed, tosses a toy around in his hands. Nothing insane, something normal sized since he’s a beginner but he worries about it anyways. Hypothetically he knows where it’s supposed to go but

How?

He has no clue.

“I’ve seen dew take two before” rain smirks “shouldve seen him around me and aether, didn’t know the tight whore could do it!”

Does Swiss need to be able to take two?

He rolls the dildo in his hands again and gulps.

Maybe that’s a lesson for another day.

“Rain talks a big game but you should see how whiny he gets when he’s got a drop of blood in front of his nose. Had him drinking from my wrist the other day, he’d do anything for it” aether laughs

He almost winced hearing about it the first time. Never really considered… that being a part of things but ….. he can accept it if he has to, if that’s what the others want.

Swiss is probably getting ahead of himself.

He takes a deep breath and lays down in his bed, just stares at the toy in question because he really isn’t sure what to do with it. There’s no question of what he has to do but he doesn’t understand.

There’s a point where Swiss just decides to rip the bandaid off, reaches between his hiked up legs and pushes it into the tight ring of muscle.

It hurts, burns, doesn’t go in more than a millimeter and he thinks he’s probably fucked it up somehow or maybe he’s just awful or whatever other reason but he decides to simply give up for the night. The worries left to eat at him for the next day.

The morning is really no better for his mind. Stands at the kitchen counter lost in thought before anyone else comes in, the boisterous laughter breaking him out of his anxiety induced trance.

“Feeling ok sunbeam?” Mountain gives him a worried look, standing next to him to lean on the marble.

“Yeah! Didn’t sleep well, I’m fine”

“Well if you ever want help sleeping just let me know” mountain winks at him.

Was that?

It couldn’t be. Right?

Did mountain just finally proposition to fuck him?

He can’t say no. He’s come too far and wanted it too bad so he has to go to his room tonight right?

Questions race around Swiss’ brain. He’s the bottom right? Mountain is like a foot taller than him so that has to be it? But what if he that’s not correct and mountain gets offended? What if the rest of the pack hears and hates him? What if-

He desperately needs his brain to shut the fuck up.

The hours pass like molasses. Swiss swears every time he checks his watch after he’s sure it’s been an hour it’s really only been 10 minutes.

What time is he even supposed to go up there?

God he wishes more than anything he could stop this anxiety.

Swiss decides around 10 pm is good. Late enough for a reasonable bedtime but early enough he knows mountain won’t actually be asleep.

Mountain is shirtless, wearing low grey sweatpants when he answers the door. Swiss thinks he may be drooling but attempts to collect himself enough to speak.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come up here, been waiting for you to come to one of us sunbeam” mountain chuckles and motions through the open door to invite him in.

“Been waiting for you myself, hard to ignore such a big guy like you” Swiss pushes himself against mountain. He’s heard in pornos that men like to be called big. That was right to say, right?

“Didn’t know you were so eager” mountain smiles and lightly shoves Swiss onto the bed, straddling his small waist against the sheets.

“Course I’m eager, been waiting for this for ages, want to drink the blood from your wrist” Swiss winks.

Mountain sits up, “what?” He looks at him confused.

Did Swiss do it wrong? Aether made it seem like that was normal….

“I- um …. Yeah, want you to fuck me stupid, make me your whore?” He loses all confidence to his voice, looks scared to even say it and the concerned expression on mountains faces turns to laughter. So he really did fuck it up huh.

“Swiss…… have you done this before?” Mountain gets out between laughs.

Swiss should probably get up, leave with his tail between his legs and god he’s going to be laughed of the band for this,

“No… I’m sorry I ruined it I’ll go-“

“No! You don’t have to do that. Didn’t expect you to know.” Mountain smiles at him “come here, can I teach you? You sure you want this?”

A large hand caresses Swiss’s waist. Mountain moves him against the pillows, studying his language for any sign of hesitation or regret.

“Please” Swiss mumbles

It’s cute to watch him suddenly so shy, came in like a speeding bullet but now can’t look mountain in the eye.

“How much do you know? Have you ever touched yourself sunbeam?” Oh the tone to mountains voice should not be turning Swiss on but god it’s deep and gravely and yeah Swiss definitely may be desperate.

“No.. I tried but I don’t … know how? I’m sorry-“

“Don’t apologize, you’re ok, you’re safe here”

Swiss does feel safe. Safe enough to let mountain undress him, gently lift his shirt over his head and unbutton his pants.

“I’m going to touch you, alright? Tell me immediately if you start to feel strange” mountain caresses his cheek, staring into his warm brown eyes before reaching down for his hardening cock. It doesn’t take much for it to stiffen up fully, just a couple of touches and Swiss is hard against his stomach, still watching for mountains next move.

“There we go, gonna move your knees up. Is it ok if I put my fingers in you? Need to stretch you out if you still want me to fuck you”

Swiss just nods in agreement, bites his lip in favor of speaking and watches as mountain pours some kind of thick liquid onto his fingers.

“Just lube, it’s going to help”

It feels weird at first, more like some kind of intrusion than any mind numbing pleasure he’s heard about it. Swiss moans anyways, doesn’t want to hurt mountains feelings if it’s really supposed to feel good.

“Swiss…. It’s ok it’s not supposed to feel good yet, you don’t have to fake it for me” mountain laughs at the multi ghouls rapidly reddening face

“Besides, you won’t have to fake it here soon”

It’s embarrassing that a drop of pre bubbles at his tip just from that sentence. Mountains smile doesn’t drop, only a little cocky from the situation.

After three fingers mountain starts to push deeper, rolling them up instead of scissoring and-

Oh.

Swiss nearly yelps, vision blurs and jumps off the bed when mountain hits something inside of him.

“There you go, did you like that?” He laughs. God he needs mountain to stop laughing at him, needs his cock to stop jumping at his laughter too.

“Think you’re ready? Still ok?”

“Please” Swiss whines

The first inch feels wrong again. Nothing like when he did it the other night but mountain is much bigger than his toy and it honestly feels like it may be too much. He holds his breath, the stretch knocking the air from his lungs anyways but he grips the sheets and waits for mountain to sink the rest of the way in.

It’s overly slow, mountain being overly caring as always but he can feel every inch carve its way into him and he just waist for mountain to be down so he can collect himself.

“You’re ok, promise I’ll make you feel so good alright? You’re doing so well”

Swiss mentally notes the way his words make him see stars. That’s a kink to deal with another day.

“Gonna move ok?”

The outward thrust feels like it takes years, before mountain quickly moves back in him, trying to loosen him up before really taking him and mountain deserves an award in patience for being able to control himself for so long with Swiss so hot and tight around him.

“Fuck mount- feels- mountain-” Swiss gasps once mountain gets to pace. Eyes closed tight and mouth agape. Soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips and Swiss throws his hand over his mouth to attempt to silence himself.

Mountain quickly grabs his wrists, holding them above his head, “wanna hear you, wanna hear what I’m doing to you, fuck- Swiss want you to be loud for me”

A hot pit forms in Swiss’s stomach, burns in his abdomen and has his eyes crossing with the feeling,

“Mountain- I think I’m getting close I- please i think I’m going to-“ Swiss doesn’t even get the sentence out before he’s spilling hot and thick all over his stomach.

“There you go, fuck Swiss, so good feel so fucking good wrapped around me”

Mountain cums not moments later, pulls out and jacks himself onto the sheets as to not be ungentleman like for Swiss’s first time.

“Feeling alright Swiss?”

“Holy fucking shit I get it now”

[itneveroccurredtomeatall]

Random snippets from Poolverine fics that are in the works

I 100% failed kinktober this year for a variety of reasons and ended up with just one fic, but I did start several other ones (so maybe that counts for something?)

We have:

-something inspired by the Platform movie (this feels like it would be on the longer side)

-something where Wade accesses a TVA monitor and sees different versions of him & Logan (probably shorter)

-something that combines Gutenberg! The Musical! and Poolverine (this is definitely ridiculous and not sure who the audience is for this other than me, but if you are also super into Gutenberg & Poolverine, please reach out!!!!!! Also, I've tried to think about what an actual Gutenberg fic would look like for months but haven't managed to come up with anything yet)

-something where Wade keeps trying to tell Logan he loves him but things go really wrong (until one day they start going really right)

And then there's all the planned kinktober ones I never finished, but hopefully I'll finish some those eventually and also get to some of these!

Snippets below:

Something inspired by the Platform movie When Logan woke up, the first thing he noticed was just how uncomfortable he was. His back was aching, and he didn’t have to wonder why. He could feel his weight pressing down on the metal bars through the thin mattress.

He had known prison, much less the Pit, wasn’t meant to be comfortable, but he had hoped for a little more than this.

Then again, he deserved worse.

He groaned as he sat up, the bed’s creaks echoing the creaking in his joints.

“Well, good morning, sleepy head! Or should I say afternoon? Or evening? You know, it’s pretty dark down here 24/7 and I’ve completely lost track of time, so let’s keep it simple and stick with good morning.”

Logan snapped his gaze in the direction of the voice and found his cellmate sitting cross-legged on an identical bed on the opposite side of the room. A large, square gap in the floor separated them.

“Don’t tell me your name or your food, I’m gonna guess.”

Logan had never been a morning person, which meant he was far too groggy to protest.

“Let’s see. Your personal item is,” the man leaned forward, his bed groaning unhappily under his shifting weight, “brass knuckle claws? I promise I’ll be on my best behavior, pretty kitty.”

Something where Wade accesses a TVA monitor and sees different versions of him & Logan

The thing about Wade is he can’t help himself. He never has been. Not that he has really tried all that hard.

So, when he’s left unattended in the TVA and explicitly told to, “Sit. Stay. Don’t look at the monitors,” he stands, walks across the room to get a better view, and stares at the fucking monitors because he really wants to know why Thor was crying.

Only that blond hunk of Asgardian God isn’t on any of the monitors. Instead, nearly every screen shows him and Logan. Well, different versions of them. Their multi-verse selves.

There’s one where they’re both drinking at the same bar sitting right next to each other but don’t seem to know each other. Wade hopes the other version of him goes home, realizes what he’s missed out on, and posts on Craigslist Missed Connections.

Then, there’s the one where they’ve got wings. Like actual fucking angel wings. Only Wade’s are cancer-ridden, judging by the looks of them, and Logan’s are going gray. And he’s not gonna lie, it’s kind of hot. They’re fighting in this universe, too. Only it’s at least four times as cool because they’re doing it mid-flight.

Apparently, there’s a universe where they’re both… cats? (And not like those cute pet kitties you find in a box on the side of the road and beg your mother to let you keep. They’re closer to Andrew Lloyd Weber nightmare fuel cats.) And they’re tussling in an alleyway. They’re feral and kind of hideous, and Wade appreciates that, for once, he and Logan are equally unattractive.

But what really catches his eye is the one where they’re them — and they're making out. It’s hot and heavy, but also surprising sweet.

And, yeah, he touches himself that night.

Again, he can’t help himself.

Something that combines Gutenberg! The Musical! and Poolverine

Schlimmer was a shitty place, to be honest.

Wade knew it. Honestly, everyone knew it.

It was right there in the name. Worse.

It was filthy. Full of dirty floors, large rats, and thatched roofs.

And the people weren’t much better than their dreary surroundings.

Beef Fat Trimmer would never shut his goddamn mouth about trimming the fat off the beef. Doctor had never saved a life in his life. Bootblack and Daughter had some weird relationship going on. Wade couldn’t quite pinpoint what was off with them, but there was definitely something wrong there. Another Woman was a major gossip.

And Blind Al. Well, Blind Al was alright sometimes, he supposed. But she was old, blind, cranky, and, quite often, very high on cocaine. (To be fair, Wade was also regularly very high on cocaine.)

In Wade’s opinion, the only thing worth a damn in Schlimmer was Logan.

Yes, Logan was technically his boss. But what’s a little inter-wine-press-shop romance in the 1400s?

Something where Wade keeps trying to tell Logan he loves him but things go really wrong (until one day they start going really right)

The next time, they were walking down the street side by side snacking on hot dogs (kinda Freudian, if you ask him). The sun was just starting to set, and the way it splashed across Logan’s face as he devoured his hot dog in a few short bites made Wade’s stomach clench.

“Hey, Logan. I think I—”

And because the universe hates him and they were strolling around in New York City with street cart hot dogs, a group of pigeons flew overhead. One nearly beamed him with its wings. Then, one actually clipped his hot dog with its wings, knocking it to the dirty concrete. And another shit directly on his fucking head.

Moment. Ruined.

But he’s not even particularly mad about that because the bark of laughter Logan had let out when he’d realized what had happened still plays through Wade’s mind every now and then.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Hero x Villain Whump Finale (June of Doom Day 29)

Alt. "I'm not okay."

Prompts List | Event Masterpost

Hero x Villain Masterpost | <- Previous Part

Fandom: Original Work

Tag List: @juneofdoom @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @doctorsawyer @pinkrangerv @42questionsandaloafofbread

CW: concussion, captivity whump, referenced injuries, delirious, swearing, bridal carry

A/N: thank you so much for all your comments on this work! It has been really encouraging and I've had a lot of fun writing this. Thank you especially to @fourwingedsnake for requesting I pick the Hero x Villain series back up after Whumpmas. This is late in part because I didn't want to rush it and post something that in my eyes sucked.

Love all of you!

----------

Leader had been cocky enough to keep Hero and Villain’s cells relatively close to one another. Not cocky enough to place them next door, but close enough that each could hear the other screaming. Or lack thereof.

When Hero stepped inside the cell after Techie unlocked it, they found Villain slumped against the wall, head bowed, eyes closed. The blood on their face had clotted into a dark red matted mess in their hair and on their temple, and four small, round bruises dotted their cheek.

Where Leader had touched them.

Where Leader had inflicted their powers on them.

“Villain?”

They stirred slightly, eyes cracking open. “Oh… hey Hero…” they murmured, words slurring together. Wincing, they pressed one hand to the side of their head. “Ow… got the worst headache….”

Panic rose in Hero’s throat, but they gritted their teeth against the fear, crouching at their side. “Villain, you had a pretty bad concussion when we got here, and then Leader… they… they used their powers on you.”

“I… huh… so that’s… that’s what happened… fuck that hurt a lot….” Their eyes slid closed and their head drooped down, their hand falling to their side.

“Villain?! Villain!” Hero grabbed their shoulder and shook them, not caring if it made the concussion worse.

They groaned. “Ugh… whaddya do that for…?”

“Villain, you’re not okay.”

“No… no shit…” they muttered, “a child could… could tell I’m not okay….”

Hero took a deep breath. It was strange seeing Villain like this, they were used to Villain being the strong one. But Villain was in no shape for that, so now it was Hero’s turn. “I got you. Can you stand?”

“I dunno… fuck… I’m sorry… so… so useless….”

“You are not useless!” Hero snapped. “It’s not your fault we got caught, you did all you could.”

Villain laughed dryly, a short brief sound that trailed off into a low groan. “...don’t even… have any powers… Leader just kept me around for… for fucking training purposes….”

“Well fuck them! Fuck them and whatever they said to you! They’re a lying piece of shit, and if it weren’t for you Techie wouldn’t have had the courage to take them down!”

Villain’s eyes cracked open at that. “Didya just… say Techie? Took them down?”

Hero glanced over their shoulder at their teammate and jerked their head. Techie hesitated, but took the cue and stepped inside the cell, massive energy gun in hand. They nodded at Villain, a slightly self-satisfied expression on their face.

“Oh…” Villain murmured, “suppose I should… apologize… for punching you in the face… that one time….”

Techie rolled their eyes. “I let you both inside the building. Didn’t think you were gonna attack me like that, otherwise I would’ve locked myself inside the control room until you were done.”

“S… sorry…”

“I got over it.”

Hero carefully scooped Villain up in a bridal carry, their limp form in their arms. Villain groaned slightly at the movement, their eyes sliding closed again. “The light… hurts….”

“I’ll get you medical attention,” Hero said reassuringly as they moved out into the hallway, “there are a few people in your part of the city who would gladly see to your recovery as a favor for protecting them well.”

Techie frowned. “Why do you say that like you’re not going to be watching over them?”

Hero stiffened slightly at the accusation but started walking towards the stairs regardless. “Someone needs to watch over the city. With Leader and Shapeshifter… indisposed… and Youngest out of commission, it needs to be done. You can’t do it alone.”

“About that…” Techie said softly, trailing behind them, “I… uh… contacted one of the other superhero teams. Sent them everything in my database. And I mean everything.”

Hero stopped in their tracks. “So Leader will see justice?!”

Techie nodded, an almost disbelieving smile on their face. In Hero’s arms, Villain stirred. “Hope they… hope they have… a good time in prison… heh… ugh….”

Hero glanced down at them, hesitated, and planted a quick kiss on their forehead. Villain’s eyes flew open in shock. “Hey… no fair… can’t kiss you back….”

“Oh! Of course!” Hero leaned their head forward, their lips finding Villain’s. It was strange, harboring these feelings, these attachments for so long, and finally having them out in the open. It was comforting. Villain loved them back. 

The kiss didn’t last nearly as long as Hero wanted, but duty prompted them to pull away long before they desired to. “Let’s get you medical attention.”

“…m’kay…” Villain murmured sleepily.

Techie watched them leave, Villain in Hero’s arms. When they finally decided to follow, to accompany them to the door, Techie realized they were grinning like an idiot.

Everything was going to be okay.

[legokingfisher]

DR s3 predictions 💪 (contains s2p2 spoilers)

First of all. I’m so so excited for Ras manipulating Arin… i want my boy to be some sort of okay in the end, but narratively ohhh this is gonna get SO interesting im so so so so exciteddd… right now, Arin only intends to use Ras to find his parents. But I can definitely see Ras holding this information out of reach for as long as it takes to convince Arin of all sorts of fucked up shit. And Arin won’t be able to do shit about it even if he realizes he’s being toyed with, because of my favorite thing abt Ras as a villain: he is fucking Ruthless.

Although, I’m not 100% on Ras even knowing where Arin’s parents are. I don’t really buy the whole “anything Jay Walker knows, i know” thing. It’s entirely possible that IS true though. Ras is pretty decent at covering his bases. WHETHER OR NOT RAS KNOWS, though, won’t matter. Bc he can clearly be pretty convincing. And this is something Arin is extremely desperate about.

I feel like Arin will spend a lot of time (like, perhaps all of next season or even longer) grappling with the idea of helping Ras reverse the merge. There’s no way doing that will end well (since overarching themes have been unity and coping with change) but I love when characters fruitlessly reach for a past they can’t return to. I hope he gets to meet different people that give him different perspectives on the merge— some people who’ve had a rough time adjusting and have lost a lot (paralleling Arin) and people who have been okay with or even benefitted from it (paralleling Sora). I hope it helps him make the right decisions when it comes right down to it.

I wonder if they will show Sora’s grief. I hope they do because hourhrhghrrhghhghgrheghregrvrhegrgehgegrhehegrhrghgrgrhgghhhhhhhhrgrrhgrhgh. I mean because hhrgrgjeghhghrgg. I mean. Because yes he’s not dead but she would have no idea if she’ll EVER see him again at this point. This probably felt relatively out of the blue for her. The last interaction they had was a fight. Ohhhgghghhrgghh. Oh god. Listen. My roommate and I are tight as fuck. We are Sora and Arin for real. It has hurt both of us so much being apart from eachother this summer. And we only lived with each other for 1 school year. ARIN AND SORA HAVE BEEN INSEPARABLE FOR MULTIPLE YEARS, YEAR-ROUND. She’s got to be dying. She’s got to be feeling like he’s dead. She wants him back… it literally makes my chest physically hurt to think about. She doesn’t remember how to go about her day without him around. And vice versa for Arin honestly. Urggrghhgg i know it’s not that deep i know she doesn’t like Need him to survive she’s her own person and it’s not like she can’t stand alone as a character . And they aren’t genuinely codependent (im not trying to make it out like they are. I hope i never come across that way) they’re just. They belong together ok

I have Arin brainrot so most of my thoughts are Arin-centric as yall can see but. What ever (i also have more shit bouncing around my brain than this but this post is already long enough)

[survivalove]

Thinking about why I like Kataang so much

so a lot of my posts/asks lately have been about things I dislike so I decided to balance it out by talking about something I actually do like! ofc I immediately thought of kataang and started thing about why i like them so much compared to other couples in media I watched growing up.

first thing is, I don’t actually like romance in visual media. I much prefer it in books but having to actually watch it gives me the ick idk why. also when i first watched atla I was like 5, so the romance really had no appeal to me and I was super focused on katara and the other girls on the show because they were girls! i would completely block out the boys and all the ship scenes for years after that because my attitude to romance never really changed.

right up until I was about 11/12 and became aware of romance from hearing people my age start to talk about crushes, boyfriends/girlfriends, kissing etc. suddenly I had entered this phase in real life where romance was suddenly relevant among my peers and this made me start paying attention when it played out in the shows I was watching like Hannah Montana, Wizards of Waverly Place, etc. this also included ATLA as my dad and I would rewatch it together on DVD throughout the year.

as I watched with my katara blinders, like I always do, for the first time I started to notice the boys in the show, particularly aang, (yes I finally started focusing on the main character after 6 years 😭) and certain interactions katara had with him that I never noticed before.

*dramatic pause*

and the way I consumed media would never be the same.

jk, but really tho.

fast forward to now, and I’ve recently started watching anime after consuming a bunch of western media my whole life from cartoons and disney shows to contemporary literature and Y/A movies/TV shows. and one thing that stands out to me with kataang compared to most of the romance i see in shonen animes (one of atla’s biggest inspiration as a TV show) is the way katara and aang develop in a way that is realistic, yet too good to be true.

let me elaborate:

starting from the very first episode, katara and aang have that classic meet-cute interaction. the music is playing, their eyes are widening, aang’s acting like he’s never seen a girl before and katara is impressed by literally every single thing he does. this is pretty much how every ship is set up, anime or otherwise, and kanna basically spells out their imminent connection when she sends katara and sokka off and sokka even explicitly says the word boyfriend seconds before that. obviously, these two characters are gonna get together at some point and it’s just a matter of when.

this is where it gets more than that:

the more katara and aang spend time together, the more they start to get on each other’s nerves.

I’m sure everyone’s had a crush at some point, where you see someone for the first time and go “oh they’re so cute” and you feel the butterflies blah blah. you either fantasize about them for a while and move on, or you pursue the crush and start to actively make moves to get to know them better.

and as you get to know them, you notice some things about them that kinda piss you off. the way they pick their nose, the way they bounce their knee, the way they chew. it’s always something. it can even affect friendships because that’s life. we are humans, not concepts. no one is perfect, there is nobody on this planet that you will 100% agree with or like about them. it just doesn’t work like that. and for some relationships, there is that one irritating thing about them that breaks the camel’s back and it doesn’t work out. you learn what annoys you and move on to the next relationship. or you have the lucky ones who actually stay together and the relationship continues to blossom as you get to know each other better.

similarly, kataang in the beginning are completely enamored with the other. until they’re not. throughout season 1, we see katara becoming more and more disillusioned with aang going from “aang’s so brave. he’s the avatar!” to realizing he’s just a boy with insecurities and flaws just like her. some of which get on her nerves BAD. similarly, aang goes from trying to impress katara and going along with every single plan she has, to disagreeing with her and even getting annoyed by her as the seasons go on.

despite this, it doesn’t stop that thing they have for each other from growing and flourishing. that is the magic part. watching two characters fall in love as they continue to annoy and irritate each other more and more. the more katara and aang butt heads throughout the seasons, the more and more unambiguous their romantic interactions become.

aang bluntly telling katara she’s not funny like he didn’t just ask her to dance with him in a candlelit cave in front of dozens of people a few days ago? katara constantly getting annoyed at aang’s antics to turn around and ask him for his opinion on the way she looks or kiss him on the cheek? right.

this is what makes them stand out from other fictional couples I’ve seen, where the girl and guy’s opinion on the other never changes significantly from that first interaction they have. one person, usually the girl because of course, worships the ground our main character walks on, meanwhile he seems to barely notice her apart from that first scene where she looked pretty and his jaw dropped or something. and even if they do interact a lot, their dynamic hardly evolves from that initial setup. they never get upset with each other or at the least, visibly annoyed. their dynamic is static, stagnant, mostly affected by major events in the plot rather than personal characteristics and minor misgivings the characters may have.

there’s no juice. it’s stale. and for me, very unrealistic.

I was watching this video about writing couples in media and one comment stood out to me in particular:

What you said about charm is so true. Entertaining chemistry to watch ≠ chemistry that pairs people together. A lot of sitcoms try to pair opposites romantically or as best friends, because opposites are good for comedy and conflict, but I find myself not understanding why they’re so into each other.

instantly i was reminded of the way people call kataang vanilla/boring, in favor of pairings that are far less similar. and while katara and aang do fight a lot, fundamentally they are very similar which is why they are so believable and realistic. I love watching them slowly become disillusioned with the idealized version of each other they had in the first episode to seeing all the ways they manage to piss each other off, and still being drawn by that initial mutual attraction.

katara learns the hard way that aang isn’t the infallible savior from her grandma’s stories, but she never stops believing in him. aang comes to discover katara’s flaws and conflicting opinions, but he still encourages her belief in hope, affirms her as a waterbender/healer and yes still calls her beautiful every chance he gets.

and what I love about this, is, it gives them reasons to fall in love that go beyond the superficial reasons that drew them towards each other in the first place.

they don’t fall in love with each other in spite of those little minor flaws, but because of them.

katara doesn’t love aang because he’s the avatar. she loves him because he is the goofy fun boy that allowed her to be a kid while taking up this heavy responsibility. aang doesn’t love katara because she’s beautiful. he falls in love witnessing those moments of her being determined, speak up for herself and others, and even going to great lengths to inspire hope in everyone she meets.

[momojedi]

— BURYING THE DEAD. pairing. none

**

type. drabble note. i’m calling it, they’re all gonna die. this was very lazily written at 2am because i was sad and listening to burying the dead. i’m so scared they will mirror this scene with omega and cross burying their brothers. farewell clone force 99. warnings. angst, hurt/no comfort, death word count. 437

star wars masterlist || pinned post

The wind is cold around us, icy snow blown away by the breeze and fogging the atmosphere in a white cloud. We’re silent.

Crosshair’s chest heaves for a second, hesitantly, before he steps forward, the final helmet in his hands. I watch him quietly before raising a hand.

“Wait,” I whisper hoarsely but loud enough for him to hear. He stops, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I want to do it.”

Crosshair looks back down at the helmet, softly running his thumb over the painted plastoid. “Okay.”

I carefully take the helmet from his hands. The way his broken eyes intensely stick to it makes me wonder whether he’ll pull it back before I can fully grasp it but Crosshair willingly offers it to me.

We look at each other for a moment, brown eyes meeting brown eyes and a ghost of a smile dances on his lips as he nods, a reassuring gesture Echo had offered time and time again.

“Time to say goodbye, Omega.”

His voice is unstable and I’m sure mine would’ve been no different. I take a deep breath and carry the helmet over to the wooden post sticking out of the snow.

After setting it up, I rotate the helmet carefully and suddenly, it feels like we’re back where we started, Hunter kneeling at my level and telling me that everything will be alright. That we’ll be fine.

I feel a familiar wetness blur my vision and before I know it, I fall to my knees, pressing his helmet against my forehead and letting the tears roll. Maybe, if I focus hard enough, his warmth will protect me again from the icy world around me.

“Omega,” Crosshair calls out to me. He doesn’t need to go any further than that. I slowly stand up, tucking the helmet back on the post with shaky hands.

I linger for a second. Then I lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of Hunter’s helmet before doing the same to Echo’s and Wrecker’s.

“Thank you,” I whisper hoarsely. Crosshair is already next to me, a hand on my back. Suddenly he pulls something out of one of his belt’s pouches and moves away from me, hanging the object next to Hunter’s helmet. Tech’s goggles drift with the wind current, a crack in his orange-tinted lenses. Crosshair shifts next to me.

I look up at my brother. He’s taken upon a saluting stance, bidding our late siblings farewell. Without hesitation, I face their final resting places and repeat his action. And somewhere, in a different place, I know they’re doing the same for us, too.

[tarditzgrade]

developing/developed a ninjago x splatoon au with someone else and so i wrote a little oneshot for it focusing on the agent 3 fight in octo expansion, but with lloyd and arin instead

i thought of the title at like 1 in the morning dont scold me for it

it's about 1,335 words :))

“It’s gonna be fine, Arin reassured himself. What was one more fight to get out of this place? He readied his gun and got into a better fighting stance, as Agent 3 finally turned and the two locked eyes and- --y-- -a-----n. Those eyes. That face. That was the face of a ------.” Arin's almost at surface after experiencing a hell like no other, but there's only one more thing standing in his way. Someone very…familiar?

“Keep it up, Arin!” Geo’s voice encouraged him over the comm. “You’re almost at the surface!”

“The elevator ahead should carry you up the rest of the way!” Cole added. “And the battery’s already in there, too.”

“So it should be an easy ride from here, huh?” Arin let himself relax as he crossed the rail connecting the spawner used to enter the facility and the bridge to the elevator platform.

“Should be.” Cole agreed. “And, hey, look at that. Agent 3 and the Captain’s signals are close by as well. Maybe you’ll run into each other on the way up.”

“We haven’t heard from them in a bit.” Geo muttered. “I hope they’re doing okay…”

“Oh, Geo! Y’know what?” Cole had an idea, possibly to cheer up Geo. “We should get the heli’ ready to pick him up once he gets out.”

“The chopper? Won’t that be overkill?”

“You’re gonna let the kid’s first ride on the surface be something lamer?”

Geo sighed, giving in. “Yeah, I guess not. I’ll make the call.”

The two idols continued to talk as Arin reached the elevator. Arin didn’t need to activate anything, as the platform began to rise a few seconds after he stepped on the checkpoint in the middle. It locked into a larger platform and the whole thing continued to rise.

Homebound, was the first thought he had. Could you really be homebound to a place you’ve never been? Well, home was where the heart is and Arin felt his heart belonged on the surface.

Just a few more minutes, a few more meters up, and he’d be there.

All the things he’d be able to see. The clothes he’d get to wear. The people he’d get to meet. He’d actually get to meet Cole and Geo face-to-face and they said they’d pick him up in a helicopter? It was gonna be so cool to get his first views of the surface from so high up.

Many exciting thoughts and speculations of what his life would be like by the end of next hour ran through his head. Once this elevator reached the end of its climb and-

Thud.

With a hiss, the platform abruptly halted.

“What’s going on?” Geo asked.

“Uh- the elevator… it stopped.” Cole replied. Arin could hear a frantic keyboard typing from their end.

“It shouldn’t be doing that?”

“No. He’s nowhere near the top and the battery’s still working. Something external must’ve stopped it.”

Geo turned his attention. “Are you okay, Arin? Do you see anything?”

“Um, yeah? I think I’m fine. I don’t-” Arin glanced up.

Oh.

Arin had gotten so caught up in his own fantasies of the surface he hadn’t noticed that there was something standing between him and the world above.

On top of one of the posts bordering the elevator, someone stood with their back turned.

Arin couldn’t see their face, but judging by the tattered cape flowing about in the wind…

“Oh, it’s just Agent 3 up there.” Arin let out a sigh of relief.

He wasn’t actually too familiar with Agent 3. The captain had put up a missing poster for him, but his drawing hadn’t been the most detailed or legible. Other than that, the only time he could recall meeting him before now was only a short while ago in the Central Station.

And that meeting had been very brief due to the fact that Agent 3 had passed out immediately after showing up and the telephone was cephalocidal now.

But Agent 3 had saved both him and the captain from the blender and it was everyone against the telephone in this fight, so Arin felt no major need to have concern.

Cole must’ve seen or known something else, though. Worry crept into his voice. “Yeah, that is Agent 3 up there, but…”

“Agent 8?!” A panicked voice rang out from behind Agent 3. A UFO floated into view, Captain Wu himself dangling upside down from under it, tied up yet squirming in his restraints. He caught sight of Arin. “Gah! Agent 8! Help! That telephone got Ll- got Agent 3! His mind’s been hijacked!”

Agent 3’s back was still turned, but Arin could see it now. A bluish-green ooze was latched on to the side of his head.

It’s gonna be fine, Arin reassured himself. What was one more fight to get out of this place? He readied his gun and got into a better fighting stance, as Agent 3 finally turned and the two locked eyes and-

--y-- -a-----n.

Those eyes.

A bright, vibrant turquoise that clearly wasn’t his normal color, but the color of his eyes didn’t matter.

That expression. On that face.

Cold and callous. Emotionless as it looked Arin over.

That was the face of a -------.

--o-d -ar-a-o-.

Arin didn’t know much. That darned telephone had taken away all he had known before the underground. So he had no memory of meeting Agent 3 before all of this.

But that face of almost apathetic resolve. The stance of someone who knows power. Who knows they’re powerful.

It awakened a feeling deep within Arin that he didn’t know he had.

--oy- --r-a--n.

Again, Arin attempted to remind himself that he’d be fine. He was capable, surely capable enough to beat Agent 3.

But there was something that his body knew that his head didn’t.

His grip on his gun shook. His breathing quickened. His legs begged to run or give out.

Arin was panicking. He had faced many, many worse things in the depths of Kamabo than what stood above him, but nothing had gained a reaction quite like this.

-l--- G--m--o-.

Hero. Traitor.

How could someone evoke both fear and admiration simultaneously?

Conflicting feelings stirred within and Arin tried to push them aside, but how could he when there was a chance that one of them may finally give him some kind of closure?

H-pe from a ------ that’d lead them out of domes to salvation.

D-sp-ir from a ------ that’d bring blackouts and death.

“Arin?” Geo asked, light and soft.

L--y- --r-a-on.

And that name. Arin felt like he was grasping at straws trying to remember it, an ultimately useless feat thanks to the telephone, but his mind couldn’t help but try.

It felt so…controversial. So polarizing. A name that, when mentioned, would gain fifty different reactions from fifty different people, and yet Arin couldn’t and would never remember it on his own.

He was starting to get that feeling of frustration that had pervaded this whole experience. That feeling he felt when he’d be on the verge of remembering something, anything, but ultimately never would.

That feeling felt stronger than ever now.

Would it mean anything to him if he did remember that name? Would it matter if it did?

-lo-d --rma-o-.

“Arin?” Cole asked this time, worried.

Those turquoise eyes were still empty of any feeling whatsoever. There were no signs of eagerness for the anticipation of a fight. There were no signs of disgust for someone daring to stand against him.

They only looked over Arin to assess him. Attempting to figure out the most efficient way this fight could play out. 

Not registering a fellow Octoling, only an opponent.

No, not even that. An obstacle.

And despite the fact that he was being mind controlled, that expression wasn’t alien on his face.

Champion. Menace.

-lo-- Ga---do-.

“Agent 8!” Cap’n Wu shouted, urgent and pleading.

Arin blinked, snapping out of his daze. Agh, now wasn’t the time for this.

Maybe he would never remember once he made it out of here. Maybe he’d never remember anything ever. Who knew how many answers the surface would have for him?

But there was a guarantee that he’d never remember anything if he died here.

Agent 3 fully turned to face Arin. He leapt off the post, Splashdown at the ready.

Arin had fought like hell to make it out of here. What was one more fight?

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty seven

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

november 10, 2018 san diego, california orion

Since finding out there’s no hope… I’ve had no hope. Everyone else has had to come to terms with my defeat. They all had shit to say to me, trying to convince me to at least read about the trials that Dr. Gupta suggested, but I didn’t want to. 

I don’t want to keep being poked and prodded and nauseous and aching constantly. I’d rather just be somewhat miserable at home as I inevitably wither away. I want to sleep in my own bed and stay out of the bleach scented hospital I’d spend more time in if I did a trial.

Everyone is trying to cheer me up. Macy and Emelia take turns coming down and staying with me during the day while my moms are at work. I tell them they don’t need to, but everyone insists I have someone with me all the time just in case something goes wrong. I feel bad because they have to drive at least two hours each way every time they come. Macy isn’t in school right now so she doesn’t really need to be in LA for anything, so she stays two days at a time, but Emelia is finishing out her semester and has a full load of classes.

They all say they’re just happy to spend time with me, which may be true, but I hate how much I’m ruining everyone’s lives. Emelia is even planning on spending her whole Thanksgiving break with me, rather than with her family in Seattle, and I feel horrible that her family won’t get to spend Thanksgiving with her.

Today is Macy’s day. We’ve been spending the days that she’s here watching the entirety of Gilmore Girls. We’re somehow still only on the third season. The episode we’re on is featuring Rory on a walk through a park that’s covered in orange and red fall foliage, which I’ve really not experienced much of in my life given where I live. 

“Cal and I always talked about going to New England in the fall sometime.”

Macy’s head snaps toward me. She looks shocked.

“What?” I ask.

“You haven’t talked about him, like, at all, since you broke up.”

“Yes I have!”

“You’ve tried to justify breaking up with him several times, but you haven’t said anything about him, really. Y’know?” 

“I have talked about him!” I’ve thought about him every hour of every day and have creeped on him via his fans on Twitter every single day and constantly check his Instagram to see if he’s posted anything. He’s still at the center of my life. 

“Orion, I spend so much time with you and have seen you stalking him on Twitter, but you have not truly said a word about him.” 

My cheeks flush as she mentions my Twitter activity.

“You’re allowed to miss him, you know.”

I look down at my hands, fiddling with the rings I’m wearing. I already feel my eyes watering. “I miss him so much, Mace.” 

Macy places a hand on my arm and squeezes it. “I’m 100% certain if you called him, he’d pick up.” 

I shake my head, feeling a few tears start to fall. “I can’t call him.”

She sighs. “You miss him. He misses you.”

“No, Macy, I can’t call him. I can’t.” 

“O, they’re on the Europe leg. You could go back to where it all started.” 

I shake my head again. “I’m terrified of having to see his face fall as I die. It’s going to hurt so bad.”

Macy hugs me then, wrapping her arms around me, but my hands stay on my lap, still twisting my rings around. “He wants to love you, Orion, he won’t see it as watching you die.” 

“I can’t do it. I can’t let him watch,” I say as I stand up. “I’m gonna go take a nap. I’m feeling kinda shitty today.”

I walk upstairs to my bedroom and collapse on the bed, sobs shaking my whole body. 

read next chapter

[mangoisms]

like the part of the song where it falls ━ miyuki kazuya

━ part three: also i wanted to be able to love. and we all know how that one goes, don’t we? read part one / part two

━ wc: 6k

━ warnings: none

━ masterpost

“It stinks in here.”

That’s the first thing Miyuki says when he steps into the studio the next day. 

Jerry, at the computer, laughs quietly. 

You grin. “Yeah. Sorry. That would be Dennis.”

“Right. Saw the release today. They’re not shutting you down.”

“Well, it was put much more nicely there. They’re not shutting us down now but they are giving us the rest of the year to perform well. If we don’t —” you make a cutting motion with your hand across your neck “— we’re out.” 

“Fixed our pay, though,” Jerry mutters, sending you a sidelong glance. 

Righttt. Dennis had unapologetically let it slip you’d been covering part of his check. You think it was revenge for him getting in trouble for not sending a representative down for the company to the press conference but really, it just makes them sound like assholes. 

Jerry was a little upset about it but you’d pressed that if push came to shove, you had your sister and Hector to fall back on. He had no one other than his grandma and while DJing at parties brings in a little extra side cash, it wouldn’t have been enough had you not stepped in. 

But that’s over now. They’re paying him his old rate again. 

Of course, you two might end up turned out onto the street come the new year but you’d cross that bridge when you got to it. 

Miyuki doesn’t say anything to that, though his eyes sweep over to you curiously. You just shake your head minutely. You’ll tell him downstairs. 

You and Jerry had come in early to set up. He hadn’t changed much but you two needed to do a few tests, run through some things, wake up that old muscle memory of how things used to be. 

Things are the same again now, except for the purple bruise on your temple, the professional baseball player standing in your studio, and the hubbub about your return tonight. 

“You want anything from downstairs, Mouser?”

Jerry shakes his head. “Had Jersey Mike’s earlier. I’m still good. When’re you gonna be back?”

“Won’t be long. We’re doing BestBuy tomorrow. Probably just an hour or something. That okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Where is the Lysol, though? He is right. Freakin’ stinks of weed in here.”

You snicker. “It’s in the closet.”

“Right, thanks. Have fun.”

You go over to Miyuki, who is taking in the room. Overall a small recording studio, you have the control room, where Jerry operates the sound board, then the live room — the actual studio — wherein you broadcast from. Both areas are separate from each other.  A glass window mounted above the sound board looks into it, showing the desk with the various computer screens, your mic and headphones, and a chair. On the walls inside the control room you have a few puzzles you and Jerry have done together framed, along with newspaper clippings of Night Owl’s sparse mentions in the media. 

More have appeared, though, from far more well-known newspapers, like the Washington Post, the New York Times. The new ones read things like:

WHO AND WHAT IS NIGHT OWL, KCSD’S NIGHTTIME RADIO SEGMENT? 

SOCAL’S MOST UNDERRATED RADIO SEGMENT, NIGHT OWL, ON 101.1 FM

UNKNOWN TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC BUT BELOVED BY UC STUDENTS AND GRAVEYARD SHIFT WORKERS, NIGHT OWL, A RADIO SEGMENT

HOW THE PADRES’ WINNING HOME-RUN OF THE WORLD SERIES THRUSTED A LITTLE-KNOWN SHOW INTO STARDOM

“Little-known show? That’s kinda cruel. And that’s coming from me.”

Jerry snickers. 

You grin. “Yeah, well, sympathetic press gets us more listeners, so they can keep going.”

“That is true…” 

The two of you slip out of the studio. 

He glances at you and smirks. “Nice shirt.”

You grin, tugging at the black shirt with just the Wonder Woman logo on the breast. “Thank you. Wonder Woman is excellent. I have a poster of her and the Wonderfam in my room.”

“Of course you do.”

He pushes the down button for the elevator. 

“I’ve been thinking I want to get some more snails if I get a bigger tank, like two of them, and you know what I’m gonna name them?”

“Let me guess — Wonder Woman and Superman?”

“Aw, look at you. All knowledgeable about comics now.”

“Well, you did talk my ear off about it for two hours straight.”

The elevator doors slide open. 

You smile. “I did, didn’t I?”

Your studio is on the tenth floor of KCSD’s building, which is located in Hillcrest, a neighborhood west of your apartment in Normal Heights. Right across the I-805. 

Outside, the sun is beginning its descent. The time change is in a couple days, so it’ll be setting even earlier after that. You take the time to enjoy the last long days of sunlight. It’s warm today, perfectly comfortable, especially with the sun still out and a light breeze. You’re in your Wonder Woman t-shirt, dark jean shorts, your regular Doc Martens that are scuffed and worn, and a pair of black over-the-knee socks, finished with a black cherry lip lacquer. 

“So, what was he talking about? Did they lower your pay?”

“Not mine. His. A few months ago. But,” you sigh, tilting your face to the sky, closing your eyes as you come to the crosswalk. You still need a second to adjust to the brightness. “Jerry lives on his own with his grandmother. It’s just them two. She has diabetes, though, and needs medication for it. We get insurance but it doesn’t cover the entirety of the prescription. The two of them wouldn’t have been able to live on that paycheck, so I told payroll to fill it from mine.”

Miyuki is quiet for a second. You open your eyes, a little more adjusted to the light. 

“Nice of you,” he says at last.

“It’s just me and Batman and Robin. It made the most sense.”

“Hm.”

The light turns. You two cross the street to the 7-Eleven, where Rico’s Tacos, a food truck, sits adjacent of. 

You and Jerry are loyal customers to them, so when you step up the window, you are instantly recognized. 

“Tee! What’s up? We heard about what happened! Free tacos for life, yeah? Or, well, maybe just a few months.” 

You grin up at Jaime Moreno as he leans out the window, handsome face split into a grin. 

“Cheap ass,” his sister, Juana ‘Janie’ Moreno, hisses, shoulder checking him out of the window to grin down at you. “Mi cielito, you can have as many free tacos as you want!”

“She’s not gonna go on a date with you,” Jaime mutters. 

“Yeah, well, she’s not gonna go on a date with you either, stupid ass.”

You laugh. Miyuki snorts quietly. 

Janie’s eyes dart to him, eyebrow raising. “Who’s this?” 

Jaime looks at him, too, blinking. 

You can’t help but laugh. “This is Miyuki. He’s the guy who concussed me.”

“Ohhh,” they say in unison. 

“Sorry, man,” Jaime says, eyes twinkling. “We don’t watch much baseball.”

“Oh, don’t feel bad,” you say. “I didn’t know who he was until I woke up in the hospital.”

“Okay,” Miyuki says. “Why don’t we order?”

“Right.”

You place your orders, he pays, and in no time, you’re sitting on the curb next to each other, soda bottles between you, feasting on your still-hot tacos. 

“Okay,” he says around a mouthful of a spicy chicken taco. “This is good.”

“Right? And look, no allergic reactions!” You grin, gesturing to yourself. 

He snickers. 

You two sit in a relatively peaceful silence. Cars drive up and down the street, some pulling into 7-Eleven for gas and snacks, while others line up at Rico’s for dinner. A few pigeons land near you, cooing, no doubt eyeing your food. 

Gold rays paint over you, picking out the red highlights in Miyuki’s dark hair, light brown skin glowing. 

Your stomach swoops like you missed a step and you look away. 

On the sidewalk, a teenage girl walks a small dog. A little girl skips ahead of them, running through the pigeons, letting out a delighted laugh as they flutter away. 

You smile, watching her go. 

Across the street, a woman hurries down the sidewalk, arms laden with grocery bags. One of them breaks, groceries spilling out. You pause, already starting to set your plate down to run across the street and help her, but someone else swoops in, kindly helping to pick up the vegetables and fruits that tumbled onto the concrete. 

You sigh wistfully. “I love humanity.”

“Not exactly representative of humanity collectively, is it? Logically speaking.”

“These are just outliers, you think?”

He nods like it should be obvious. “There are lots of words to describe humanity but I’m not sure good is one of them.”

“No?” you ask lightly. 

He shrugs. “Look at what we do. Pollute the earth, start wars over nothing, create mass weapons of destruction. Doesn’t sound very good to me.”

“You think humanity is inherently selfish and bad?”

“I don’t know. I don’t see anything that says it’s inherently good.”

You smile. “How miserable you must be to resent your own kind.”

“I don’t resent humanity. I just don’t think we’re good. That’s all.”

“So, what do you believe in?”

“Myself.”

“Miserable and lonely, then. Sounds like an excuse.”

“An excuse?” 

“You’re letting them win,” you say patiently. “Being a cynic, thinking humanity is a plague on this earth, that’s the easy way out. It excuses you, doesn’t it? Despair and cynicism are easy. It absolves you of responsibility. Removes yourself from the equation, from the possibility of helping because, why help if there is no hope?”

You pause and take a breath. You aren’t hungry anymore. Something bubbles inside your chest but you force yourself to be calm. To be patient. 

“Miyuki… You aren’t smart or philosophical for saying humanity is doomed. Not at all. You have to believe humanity is good.”

“Why?”

“Humanity named kindness so it must know kindness. We just saw a stranger help another stranger. They didn’t have to. But they did. If you look for greed, selfishness, or corruption, you will find it. Try looking for kindness for once, for the goodness of humanity.”

“You —”

“Are naive? The way that I am, it is strategic. Necessary. Because what else do we have? It’s too easy to go that route. And it’s what they want. The government wants us hopeless, wants us to think there is no way to solve the problems we have created. Wants us to think we are inherently greedy, selfish, and evil because it absolves them of responsibility. And when we believe it, it absolves us of responsibility, too. But it’s a double-whammy, because not only that, but we’re also getting fucked over by the government all the while. No one wins. Nothing gets better.”

You set your food ahead, gazing intently at him. In the setting rays of the sun, his eyes are honey brown. 

“Even if you can’t bring yourself to believe that, at least appreciate that you are here, existing with everyone else. How extraordinary it is that we even exist. You know how young the universe is? It’s just barely coming into adolescence. For this brief moment in time, life can exist. But for most of the universe’s life, it will be cold, dark, and empty. Stars will die out. Even the black holes will die in some quadrillion years.”

“Just sounds like an existential crisis if you ask me.”

“We’re here, Miyuki. Existing in that haven in time. We should enjoy our time here.”

“I enjoy my life.”

You take a leap. 

“I’m saying other than baseball.”

He falters. You can tell you’ve got him out, because his next words are sharp again. 

“Awfully presumptuous, aren’t you?”

You knew that. And yet, something inside you urged you to say it anyway. To presume. 

“I’m happy to be proved wrong.”

He’s quiet for a long moment. The sky is painted shades of pink and orange as the sun sets. 

“What do you want me to say?”

“What do you do for fun?”

“Baseball.”

“Other than baseball. I like photography, doing puzzles in my free time, watching Say Yes to the Dress, reading poetry, and making playlists. Not just for the show but for me, too. I like watching Batman and Robin move around in their tank. I like — love — the ocean and the beach. I like swimming, too, but the ocean is usually too cold for that, and the pool at my apartment complex isn’t taken care of enough and while I love swimming — love that feeling after several hours of it, when you’re in bed and you feel like you’re rocking on a boat — my fear of getting a UTI is stronger.”

His lips twitch. 

You nudge his shoulder with yours. “There has to be something. Like my puzzles. I do them in my free time but also if the show is particularly slow. Jerry likes to do sudoku and he likes Star Wars, but not the recent movies that come out. He says those all suck. Rogue One is apparently the only good movie to come out. I’ve seen it. It’s actually very… touching.”

He sets his plate down with a sigh and picks up the soda bottle, which is sweating in the warm weather. Air hisses out as he untwists the cap. He takes a drink. You try not to stare at the long line of his neck, Adam’s apple bobbing. Focus. You need to focus and stop ogling him. 

Easier said than done. 

“What are you going to do during the offseason?” you ask, trying for a difference approach. 

“The usual. Workout. Review game footage. Plan for next season. The only thing different now is I’m still house hunting and no, real estate doesn’t much interest me outside of that.”

You purse your lips, thinking. 

He sets the bottle down and looks at you. 

“You should show me.”

“Show you what?”

“How to…” he gestures aimlessly. “Enjoy life. Outside of baseball, I mean.”

You give him a sad smile. “It’s not exactly something that can be taught, Miyuki.”

“Maybe not. But it’s worth a shot. Prove it to me and I’ll believe you.”

“I’m not going to do it because of that. I don’t care about being right or wrong. You can think what you’d like. But… if you really want to, maybe I can help you get into the swing of it.”

“Do your worst.”

“No,” you say, smiling. “I’m going to do my best.”

The look in his eyes is hard to quantify but the set of his mouth is soft. 

“I look forward to it.”

[Night Owl Transcript — 20:07 — 11/4/2022]

Tee: It’s great to be back here, guys. Really, really great. I’m in desperate need of some good old human connection. Lucky, too, that our switchboard is literally lighting up. Wow. [Laughing] What a reception. Trending on Twitter, too. That’s fun. Don’t worry, guys, we’ll get to callers in a sec, for now, our first song of the night… I thought about it for a long time. Interestingly enough, there is only one song I know of in my catalog with the word concussion in it. And it’s a great song! But not the tone I’d like to set for tonight. So…

[Coldplay’s “A Head Full of Dreams” starts in the background]

Tee: What’s tonight's theme? Frankly, it’s me being grateful to be alive. To be here right now, in this moment of time. I hope you guys can feel that, too. 

[“A Head Full of Dreams” plays] Leave your broken windows open And in the light streams And you get a head A head full of dreams

[Night Owl Transcript — 21:47 — 11/4/2022]

Caller 52: Hello? Tee: Hi! Thanks for calling in. What’s your name? Caller 52: My name is Emi.  Tee: Hi, Emi! I’m Tee. Where are you calling from? Caller 52: From Japan, actually.  Tee: No way, are you serious? Caller 52: Yes. It’s only the afternoon here, so it’s easy to listen in. Many of my friends are since everything happened with Miyuki-san. I just wanted to say we are glad you’re okay. We’ve been listening for the last week but we’ll keep listening. So, you have some supporters across the pacific, too.  Tee: Hey, Emi, I really appreciate that. Thank you. And since it’s only the afternoon there, I hope you have a good day, too. I’ve seen a lot on Twitter saying people not just from San Diego or the SoCal area are listening in and so many callers are saying that, too. Guys — that is so sick. 

[Tai Verdes’ “A-O-K” starts in the background]

Tee: I feel like I’ve been saying it all night but — you guys are freakin’ awesome. I’m glad we’re all here tonight. 

[“A-O-K” plays] Livin’ in this big blue world With my head up in outer space  I know I'll be A-O, A-O-K I know I'll be A-O, A-O-K  When I see trouble come my way  I’ll be makin' lemonade

[Night Owl Transcript — 22:54 — 11/5/2022]

Caller 106: I just think it’s crazy that was your first baseball game, ever! Tee: [Laughs] Yeah, I know, just my luck, right?  Caller 106: Is it true he paid for your hospital bills? Tee: Every cent. From my week-long stay for the concussion and for the allergic reaction, too.  Caller 106: God, that is awesome. It’s really nice to have you back, Tee. Mouser did good but it’s just not the same. You’ve gotten me through three years of college.  Tee: Hey, that was all you. I just kept you company. Any requests? Caller 106: I’m about to drive home from work. I could use something to keep me awake. Something I can sing along to, you know? Tee: Oh, I got you. Roll down the windows and enjoy — and drive safely, please. 

[AWOLNATION’s “Pacific Coast Highway in the Movies” plays] I’m lonely, I’m confused, and I’m glad that you’re here Give me shiny things to stop my tears Pacific coast highway in the movies You promised me sunshine, why’s it gloomy? We’ll wait ‘til the night to catch the moonbeams Pacific coast highway in the movies

(03:07) you ever been to the zoo? (12:30) Jesus is that how long night owl runs? Until 3 am???? (12:30) yes :DDD good morning (12:31) It’s noon (12:31) And are you asking in general? (12:32) :( i’m talking about here! (12:32) Haha I know I just wanted to mess with you (12:32) No I’ve never been (12:33) we must fix fhat immediately (12:33) *that. are you busy today??? after bestbuy?? (12:33) Today?? No (12:34) yay! that’s what we’re doing today (12:34) welcome to day 1 of operation enjoy your life (in the offseason)

Things continue like that for the most part. 

Night Owl runs from eight to three, so you often sleep in until noon. Not the most sustainable sleeping schedule and the first few days are rough, since you’ve been on a ‘normal’ one without having the show, but once you get into the swing of it, it gets better. 

Your days are often free, too, so if Miyuki doesn’t have a photoshoot or an interview or any other kind of public engagement, you’re dragging him around the city. 

It’s mostly to just get him outside. 

He doesn’t need to pick up, like, knitting or something but… he should go out and do things anyway. They don’t have to be extraordinary, either. Even going out and sitting in a cafe and reading is good. 

He’s a bit of a solitary creature, you find. He doesn’t have friends here — “I have the team,” he says, but when you ask whether they hang out, he admits it’s never quite voluntary on his part. More of an obligation. Outside of that, there is nothing else. But the thing is, humans need social contact. Social support. It is quite literally hardwired into your DNA. 

And being solitary or a homebody doesn’t have to change. You get wanting to stay home. But it’s just… there’s a balance to these things, right?

Mostly… you just want him to enjoy himself. 

Bit by bit, it’s starting to work. 

You find yourself at Barnes & Noble with your sister at one point and find a book on Shohei Ohtani that seems interesting. You ask him about it and he says he hasn’t read it. 

You buy two copies and drag him to Balboa Park to read on the grass on a particularly warm November day. 

He humors you, and most of all, you certainly entertain him by asking, “What the hell an ERA and an OPS are,” and all kinds of questions about the baseball jargon you stumble upon in your reading. 

Oftentimes, you bring your new camera, a very expensive model you’d picked out at BestBuy a couple weeks ago after several hours of contemplation. 

Photography is just a hobby for you, nothing serious, which is why you still haven’t accepted the Padres’ offer to join their team. 

The show is going well. More than well. Most nights, you have a long line of callers and even more interaction on Twitter. Once people discover you, they tend to stick around, liking what they find. It helps you have people from all around the world listening. Your listeners in Japan and other parts of the world get the advantage of it being afternoon when your show airs, so it’s feasible to reach a wide audience there. Especially after all the attention you got. 

The blessings of modern technology also allow for each segment to be recorded and stored away on streaming apps, so if people aren’t staying up, they can listen the next day, after the fact. That is a popular option. 

The time continues to pass. Miyuki’s birthday comes up — turning a whole twenty-nine. You’re a few years younger than him at twenty-six. 

November ends and December begins. The city is festive, houses decorated in their various religious symbols for the upcoming holidays. But of course, the lowest the temperatures will go is the fifties and that’s at night. In the day, it floats around the mid-sixties. Cool but not uncomfortable. For some, it ruins the experience of the winter holidays, but you quite like being able to still wear shorts or leggings during the month, so you don’t complain. 

All the while, you and Miyuki hang out. You visit museums, art galleries, exhibits, botanical gardens. Sometimes you go to your apartment and complete your more difficult puzzles since he likes the challenge or you try to teach him photography. Sometimes you go to his apartment and he answers your questions on baseball or you cook together or you play shogi together (more like he teaches you how to play). He’d tried it out after your talk, said he was always forced to play it with one of his old teammates from high school but he hadn’t touched it since he graduated. Mostly, you think he enjoys beating you at it but you don’t mind.

That’s the point, isn’t it? 

You’re still searching for new things to explore, though. 

“Has there ever been anything you wanted to do as a kid that you never did? I always wanted to go to Magic Mountain but my sister is a scaredy cat.”

“Why didn’t your parents just go with you?”

“Didn’t see any use in even going to Six Flags if she wasn’t going to go and they certainly weren’t going to come with me on rides.”

He glances at you, curious. 

The two of you find yourselves sitting in the stands of a Little League game. You’d stepped out of a cafe for a late lunch when he spotted the fields and dragged you over to it, which was a nice surprise. Most often, if your days are not pre-planned, you just go where your whims take you. But now it’s his whims leading you to this field. Probably expecting a high school team or something. No, this is Little League. And you mean Little League. 

Most of the kiddos running around look to be four to six years old. Their batting helmets are too big for their heads. Volunteers stand around, watching like hawks. 

You watch with a small smile as a little boy hits the ball off the tee, then, instead of running down first base line, runs forward to chase it. 

A volunteer swoops in as the other boys of the team close in to grab the ball in clumsy formation; the volunteer lifts the little boy back over to the first base line and urges him on. He finally runs for first base. 

Miyuki looks amused, too. You wouldn’t have thought he’d enjoyed watching but these little kids are fun to watch. No one gets upset when they chase the ball after hitting it instead of running to the bases. Or if they make more clumsy mistakes. They’re just kids, after all. Babies, really. But they’re having fun and so, everyone else is, too. 

Even Miyuki, who watches with a soft look in his eyes. 

Or he was. Now he is looking at you, curiosity clear in those amber brown eyes. 

“What?”

“I know I’m being a hypocrite by saying this but you don’t talk much about your parents. Did they visit you when you were in the hospital?”

“You can ask questions about my life, Miyuki. We’re friends. Friends do that.”

“Right.”

“And no, they didn’t.” You shrug. “But that’s fine. My sister and I don’t talk to them. They had very specific visions about what we should do with our lives. Go to an Ivy League, become a doctor, an engineer, a programmer. Neither of us wanted that. My sister wanted to be a flight attendant and I wanted to be a radio host. Not very impressive or glamorous jobs in their eyes and certainly not jobs that would earn us six figures so we could give them money. So. We don’t talk. Well, really, they disowned us. But you know.”

“That…”

You shoot him a grin. “It’s okay. They weren’t that great growing up. They took care of us but it was always just a transactional thing and if we didn’t do something they liked, they always said something like After all we have done for you blah blah blah. As if housing us and clothing us and feeding us makes them good parents.”

You yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “Anyway, we’ve got Hector’s family now. They’re loads better.”

“Endlessly optimistic.”

“I can’t change anything,” you chuckle. “That’s in the past. I’ve grieved it, believe me. But in the end, there’s just nothing left for me. So.”

He nods and turns his eyes back to the field. 

Another little boy hits the ball from the tee. He doesn’t try chasing it but he heads straight for second base instead of first. 

“My mom died when I was a kid.”

You jolt, head whipping towards him. He doesn’t look at you, instead out at the field, where chaos unfolds, punctuated by parents’ cheers and urges and the kids’ yells and laughter. It balances the weight of his words but you still feel them pierce deep in the soft tissue of your heart. 

“After she died, my dad wasn’t all there. For most of my childhood and teenage years, he was never there. Had to cook, clean, balance the checkbook, pay the bills. He came around in my final year of high school but it still wasn’t…”

“Can’t make up for all that you had to do,” you murmur. 

“But it’s like you said. I can’t change any of it. He tries now, which I guess is what matters the most in the end.”

“Still,” you say softly. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that from such a young age.”

“I had baseball,” he says, looking at you. “If I didn’t have my parents, I had baseball. But I guess that’s the point of this.”

You tilt your head, silently urging him to go on. 

He lifts a shoulder. “I won’t have baseball forever.”

“I don’t know,” you say, smiling. “If there is anyone who can keep going forever, I think it’s you.”

“Yeah. Then they’d ban me from the parks.”

You laugh and turn back around, shifting on the metal bench. Your shoulder brushes his. 

“I don’t remember much from my childhood other than wanting to play baseball and be the best,” he says, finally addressing your previous question. 

“Didn’t even want to go to an amusement park or something?”

He gives you a suspicious looks. “What’s with you and amusement parks?”

“They’re fun!”

“Didn’t realize you were such an adrenaline junkie, tomcat. Maybe you did get hit with that ball on purpose.”

You laugh. “I am not and I did not! They’re just fun! This is coming from someone who has clearly never experienced the pleasure of a rollarcoaster.”

“There are many words to describe rollarcoasters and a pleasure is not one of them. Besides, you’re still recovering from your concussion. I don’t think it’s a great idea to go on a contraption that shoots you from zero to seventy in a few seconds.”

“I’ll ask Hector when I see him tomorrow for my appointment.”

He chuckles. ”You do that. But you know what I have been thinking?” 

“Tell me.”

“We’ve been to the zoo, we’ve been all around the city but… why haven’t we gone to the aquarium yet?”

“Oh, my god, you’re right.”

“Doing anything tomorrow?”

“I have my appointment. We’ll go to the aquarium next week Tuesday. Be less busy.”

“Hey, maybe I’m doing something.”

“Are you?” you ask knowingly. 

He looks away. “No… but it’s the principle!”

“You’re right. Are you free next week Tuesday to go to the aquarium?”

“Hmm. Yes.”

You nudge his shoulder, smiling. He nudges back, then stays there, your shoulders and arms pressed together, skin against skin. Your heart does something funny at the feeling. 

You stay like that until the game is over.   

Your six-week follow up appointment is tomorrow in the afternoon. 

Another round of CT and X-ray scans reveal good — great — news. Your brain contusions are completely healed, which finally makes Hector relax. Your skull fracture is entirely healed, too. It wasn’t a very big fracture — if it was, you’d be in a whole lot more trouble, like, brain surgery kind of trouble — so it’s smallness in size lends a hand to your healing. The bruise on your temple is gone, too. 

You do have one question, though. 

“Soooo, when do you think I’m safe to ride a rollarcoaster?”

“Six months from now,” Hector says flatly.  

“What?!”

“One-hundred-and-nineteen. That was the exit velocity on that ball. Concussions don’t just heal like that. They take a long time.”

You pout. You’d figured that. You didn’t think you had to wait six months, though…

“How about two months?”

“Why do you even want to get on one?”

“For fun.”

Hector looks at you for a second, lips pursed. Then he sighs. “Three months. Wait at least three months from the day it happened, so October twenty-fifth to January twenty-fifth. Then after that, you can go. But you must exercise caution. Listen to your body. If you start to feel sick or if your head hurts, stop immediately. Okay? These things are different in everybody but you still have to be careful.”

“I will be. Promise.”

[Night Owl Transcript — 20:34 — 12/9/2022]

Tee: It’s Friday night, folks, which means it’s I-play-music-and-you-imagine-your-lives-as-movies night. Have fun and be safe out there. 

[M83’s “Midnight City” plays] Lookin’ at the milky skyline The city is my church It wraps me in its blinding twilight

[Off-air recording starts] Mouser: You and Miyuki sure are spending a lot of time together, huh.  Tee: Yeees? Why? Mouser: Just an observation. Tee: Is it really? Mouser: [Laughs] It is! You guys seem like you’re having a lot of fun together. Just surprised, I guess.  Tee: Why? Mouser: He just doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d be friends with.  Tee: I guess not. But he’s not all bad. I just think he’s… Mouser: Got a couple chips on those broad, broad shoulders? Tee, Mouser: [Laughter] Tee: Pretty much. Mouser: I guess I’m not surprised. Guy has bad luck when it comes to concussing people. Tee: [Chuckling] What? Mouser: No way. You don’t know? Tee: Know what? Mouser: Ohhhhh. Oh, shit. Wait. It was this thing… hold on. I’m going in. 

Jerry opens the door to the studio, rolling in the chair from the control room. You sit up, sliding off the headphones, pulling your legs from the desk, frowning a little. Midnight City plays quietly from the headphones that you set on the desk. 

“I thought you knew,” Jerry says, looking a tad nervous as he rolls up next to you, tapping quickly on his phone. 

“I’d never heard anything about it.”

“Well, basically, like, three or four years ago, during his second season here in the US and with the Atlanta Braves, a few weeks into the season, one of his foul balls hit a little girl in the stands.”

“What?”

He passes you his phone. It’s a recent article, talking about not just your concussion, but the other one, too. About a six-year-old girl who, in a home game in Atlanta between the Braves and the Washington Nationals, was hit by a foul ball in the first inning. 

“She suffered permanent brain damage,” he says, frowning a little bit. “Like she started having seizures after and stuff. Speech issues, mobility issues. I looked more into it after I first heard about it, just ‘cause I was curious about him, since he was visiting you and stuff. He did the same for her. Paid her hospital bills. Is still paying for stuff regarding her healthcare and making sure she has a good quality of life, I think. They say she’s doing good now.”

“That’s good at least,” you mumble, still scrolling the article. 

“But… after it happened, he slumped bad. Like really bad. Like the worst slump of his career apparently. This guy’s, like, a heavy hitter, right? Up there with Judge and Trout, I’ve heard. Defensively speaking, he was still okay. Not as good as usual but… on the offense, he was even worse. This was after his debut here in the US. One of the Braves’ best seasons to date. But that season…” 

Jerry shakes his head. 

“I mean, I get it. I probably wouldn’t walk away unscathed but… I don’t know.”

“It’s different in Japan,” you say quietly, handing his phone back. “They’re vigilant about keeping people safe. Here… nothing happens until it’s too late. Has it happened since?”

“No. Your incident was his second one.”

“They’re not the same, though. Behind the foul line… yeah, it should be netted. But out there in the outfield — that was on me.”

“He probably still feels bad, Tee. I mean… yours was bad. You got lucky. Really lucky.”

True. Headaches have increased in frequency and sometimes you’re still sensitive to the sun. But outside of that… you’ll be okay eventually. 

You knew there might be some underlying guilt, but never enough for you to reconsider where you stand. 

Is he humoring you because of that? Or because you are friends? 

You hope it’s because you’re friends. If it’s that first one… you don’t know. What can you do? 

You try to think of it from his perspective. If your places were reversed, you’d probably feel a little bit of guilt. But he’s more than made up for it — when he didn’t even have to. He had your forgiveness before you even woke up the day after. He always had it. 

“He got better, though, right?”

“Well, he accepted a trade deal with the Padres after that season. Three years here. It ended this season.”

“What?”

“How do you not know that? You guys hang out constantly!”

“The finer points of the Major League Baseball trade do not dominate our conversations!”

He throws his head back and laughs. You grin, too, shaking your head as you glance back to the computer to make sure the next song is correct. It’ll start straightaway. 

“Well, don’t worry about it. Your boyfriend —“

“He isn’t my boyfriend! Mouser!”

 Jerry ignores you, smiling knowingly. “Your boyfriend accepted a five-year extension. $120 million.”

“You know, on that thought…”

Janelle Monáe’s Make Me Feel starts playing. 

You two share a mischievous grin. 

You keep on askin’ me the same questions And second-guessin’ all my intentions Should know by the way I use my compression That you’ve got the answers to my confessions

It’s like I’m powerful with a little bit of tender An emotional sexual bender Mess me up, yeah, but no one does it better There’s nothin’ better

That’s just the way you make me feel That’s just the way you make me feel So good, so good, so real

Look, it’s all in good fun, alright?

He isn’t your boyfriend. No way. Your relationship is better now, after those boundaries were tested and are steadily improving as he opens up to you about his life but…

It’s just not possible. 

Even if he will be here for the next five years… and maybe more…

No. No. Not happening. It can’t.

It’s not like you’re swearing off the possibility completely but that just seems… out of this world. 

Out of the realms of your world.

Yes, he’s horribly handsome and actually kind of funny in that snarky way of his, while also having rare bouts of sensitivity and sometimes your breath catches when you see his face in the sun and your heart does a funny little thing when he looks at you but it’s… 

It’s nothing. 

It was evening, and no longer summer. Three small fish, I don’t know what they were, huddled in the highest ripples as it came swimming in again, effortless, the whole body one gesture, one black sleeve that could fit easily around the bodies of three small fish.

Also I wanted to be able to love. And we all know how that one goes, don’t we?

[duckiemimi]

i think the core reason why non sorcerers shouldnt know about jujutsu is like geto once said: for their peace of mind. thats why they put up curtains etc etc. jujutsu exists almost entirely as a means to exorcise curses i think if people knew about jujutsu and curses itd bring a lot of anxiety into their lives. do nt know if this can really relate to ur question but remember the scene where nanami goes into a bakery and helps get rid of the curse on the girls shoulder? at first he shows himsepf a little apprehensive to exorcise it because hes afraid to scare her or that shed think hes a creep. so maybe thats another reason? vulgar humans would maybe be creeped out by the fact theres people out there who are different than them and have this special powers. also maybe its put sorcerers in danger? if you bring this perspective into the real world it kind of makes sense, remember when people were burning girls the sole reason being they thought these girls were weird and were accused of being witches? salem for eg. people are afraid of what they don’t understand. this is my perspective of it.

that comparison to the salem witch trials and witch trials in general—ur so right!! sorcerer and witch and shaman are almost all synonymous!! (though i guess depending on culture context, the connotations can be either positive or negative).

yea, i totally get that! and i know geto’s already mentioned it in season 2, too, but i can’t help but feel that the stated reason is insufficient because if non-sorcerers knew about jujutsu, then they (non-sorcerers and sorcerers) can form a somewhat symbiotic relationship, where non-sorcerers can keep each other in check and look out for each other to prevent big, big, big emotions from spawning into curses and as for the ones that do spawn into curses, the sorcerers can take care of that! in exchange, non-sorcerers could…do something for sorcerers (idk, like i’m still fleshing this whole reciprocal relationship out 😭).

but! nevertheless, i imagine involving the people they’re supposed to protect into jujutsu (at least, having them know of its existence) could help a lot! and if jujutsu is a long-standing system, they could’ve done this ages ago! which brings me to my next theory; perhaps at one point in time (maybe around sukuna’s era or even before that), people knew of the existence of jujutsu, but something happened and now secrecy is a rule! idk, but i’d love to know more about the history of jujutsu society!

but let’s talk rules for a second: the memorandum where this rule is in (the rule being article 8 of the memorandum of duty of jujutsu sorcerers) was created by the big three clans for all sorcerers to abide by. since family politic is such a big theme in jjk, i wouldn’t be surprised if they (the big three) created a rule like that (and other rules pertaining hierarchy, chain of commands, punishments, etc.) to set the status quo and make sure they stay in power.

and since two of the clans aren’t in power anymore (the zenin clan being nonexistent and the kamo clan losing their head, hehe), that would leave only the gojo clan. gojo wants the current system to topple over, so i’m curious to see how a new system will be implemented!! what’s a post-hierarchical jujutsu world gonna look like? how is it gonna work? i’m excited to see gege explore this concept, a realization of allies!!

anyway, sorry for the long-winded ramble and thank u for ur insight!! i’m glad they’re using the anime to add more info so everything ties in together cohesively!!

[karebear923]

VICE VERSA REWATCH 2024 EP 3

(First I just want to apologize to @stormyoceans for taking so long. I should be on ep 6 by now 😭 these rewatch posts take a while for me to make and I’m sorry 😞 but I swear I’m still in this!)

Ok so, episode 3 is called “Soft Blush” and I looked it up beforehand! It stands for the flush of first love! It’s also gentle, playful, and healing 🥰 and I noticed that the episode started green which was the previous episode’s color, and even in the gif above the color seems to shift from green to pink!

It’s so insane that Talay casually says he’s ok with Puen being his portkey when they were just talking about portkeys being like soulmates! I mean how could anyone possibly resist falling for that? Puen stood no chance! 😩 Just nonchalantly saying these romantic things, being there for Puen and helping him all the while acting like it’s no biggie when Puen’s never had someone like that!? Insane!

Talk about foreshadowing 😭 but this story is not open ended like Talay says, it’s a happy ending!! 🥰

They’re already starting to change each other!! Puen is wearing the blush pink in the first half of the episode cause as a big name actor he probably didn’t have to try hard to get a role. And he couldn’t really trust anyone cause what if they just wanted to use him, so he never really had to make an effort when interacting with people. All that plus going from a strict schedule in a life where he wasn’t happy to being free to do what he wants made him mess up and get carelessly drunk and ruin their big pitch meeting. But here he’s just a regular person so these executives and his friends aren’t gonna forgive his mistake so easily. So Talay helps him grow as a person to learn to apologize and be responsible and actually care about something and try cause this is technically someone else’s life and he should try to live it as best as he can for the other person, but also to give himself a fresh start and live with a purpose and form real relationships with people. Talay’s already changing him for the better and Puen is just absorbing all of that and thinking “wow this guy really cares about me.” 🥹

Their pseudo first date!!! Now Talay is in the blush pink for the second half of the episode cause Puen says he’s also inexperienced but he’s so ready to teach Talay about love and the parallels are paralleling as they follow the couple around!! 😁

AAAHHHH THIS PART!!! PUEN USING THE FULL FORCE OF HIS STARE TO RECITE THAT LINE TO TALAY!!! THEY TRULY INVENTED ROMANCE!!!

Whiny baby Puen makes his first appearance 😁 everyone knows that KFC Chicken™️ tastes better when you’re being hand-fed by your faen ☺️

THEY’RE SO INSANE FOR THIS!!! Who gets into a bathtub with a guy they just met?? And then gently wipes his face with Nivea MicellAir Oxygen Boost™️?? Someone who’s catching feelings for that guy, that’s who! 🫵🏽🤨

And why would that guy gently wipe your dusty heart with the same Nivea MicellAir Oxygen Boost™️ so that it can be used for love again?? In that same soft blush pink tub??? Because the feeling’s mutual!! 🫶🏽

Them promising to live their best lives and writing on each other’s helmets was so cute!!! 🥰 ugh I love this show!!!

I’m excited for the next one!! I’ll try to someday catch up to be on schedule for these 😅

[radiantlyrey]

TRON Fic: a sort-of sequel AU thing... (Part Two)

Couple days ago I posted the first part of this story [link], which is a quasi-AU where Flynn takes Alan and Lora to the Grid to meet Tron and see what he's been working on. Here are the next 1500ish words of that.

~~~

Tron isn’t sure how he expected Alan_1 to react to him, but perhaps it’s fitting that they’re both stunned into silence at the sight of each other. He stares at Alan_1 silently, his face betraying no shock, though he is a little unnerved by how closely they resemble each other. No wonder Flynn kept calling him by Alan_1’s name, early on; they could almost be copies of each other.

Now Flynn’s walking out to greet him and Clu, and Alan_1 and the other User, Lora, follow. (She resembles Yori, Tron realizes as he glances at her, so much so it’s disconcerting.) Flynn smiles at them and says, “Alan, Lora, I’d like you to meet Clu and Tron. They’re my partners in here; basically they keep things running smoothly when I’m busy back home.”

“A pleasure to meet you both,” Clu says in his warmest voice, extending his hand to both of them in turn. Lora shakes his hand immediately, but Alan_1 keeps glancing between Clu and Flynn, as if in disbelief.

“Flynn,” he says at last, “how did you—do this?”

Flynn at least is smiling, and he replies, “You’re gonna have to be a little more specific, Alan.”

“Why do they… look like…”

“Excellent question!” Flynn says, though it wasn’t one. “Clu looks like me because I made him that way; I programmed him within the system to act in my stead. As for Tron… far as I can tell, he looks like you because you programmed him.”

Alan_1 blinks several times, his mouth opening and closing slowly. Tron watches him, then finally steps forward and says something. “Alan_1.” Their eyes meet, and Tron dares to hold his gaze. “It’s an honor to meet you. Truly.” He holds out his hand, knowing that the worst that can happen is Alan_1 ignoring the gesture.

But he reaches out and takes Tron’s hand, gripping it firmly, though Tron can feel him shaking a little. “It’s, uh. It’s nice to meet you, too.” They stand there for half a micro, staring at each other with a handshake between them.

Tron sees Lora sidle over to Flynn. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Flynn shakes his head. “Who, me? Nah.” Lora tilts her head skeptically (looking so much like Yori in that gesture that she must be—), and he says sheepishly, “Okay. Maybe a little.”

She elbows him, then walks over to stand beside Alan_1. “It’s nice to meet you, Tron,” she says. Alan_1 startles a little at her voice, and disentangles his hand from Tron’s. Tron manages to keep a neutral expression, and offers Lora his hand. She shakes it twice, with a smile, and he smiles back.

“It’s an honor to meet you as well,” he says, and then, before he can think better of it, he adds, “I—apologize if this is an impertinent question, but—are you Lora_B? I knew a program on another system, and she—resembled you, and—”

Lora’s smile fades, and she turns to look at Flynn, who sighs and says, “Oh, hell. I can’t believe I forgot about Yori. Sorry, Tron, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s all right, Flynn,” he replies. “I was only surprised—”

“Yori?” Alan_1 looks down at Lora. “Wasn’t that the utility you wrote at Encom for the laser?”

“Not at Encom,” Lora says. “I wrote Yori on my own time, at home. Which is why, when I got the job at Cal Tech, I—”

“You took her off the Encom system?!” Flynn exclaims. “But then—oh my god, that explains everything!”

“What do you mean?” she asks, frowning a little.

“It was right after you’d left Encom that I transferred Tron over here. I meant to bring Yori, too, but I couldn’t find her in your archive. I spent two hours looking, too. And when I talked to Tron in here, he just said—”

“That Yori had been called back to her sector,” Tron says slowly. “But does that mean she’s—she’s all right?”

“I saved all my personal data to floppy disks. They’re in my office at home.” Lora looks between Flynn and Tron, the smile gradually returning to her face. “I can dig through them when we get back, if you want. Bring Yori here…?”

Flynn whoops and claps his hands together. “Yes! Hell yes.” He laughs, shaking his head. “I knew this was a good idea!”

Tron finds himself smiling again, but Alan_1 looks bewildered. “I’m confused,” he says. “What just happened?”

“You’re not gonna be the only one with a doppelganger in here,” Lora replies, nudging him with one elbow. “Once we get back, we’ve gotta go through my Encom stuff at home, all right?”

“Okay, but—”

“Just roll with it, Bradley,” Flynn says cheerfully, clapping Alan_1 on the shoulder.

“Not that this isn’t fascinating…” Clu says, and they all turn. In all the conversation, even Tron has forgotten he’s still there. “I do have other business to attend to this cycle. Flynn, could I have a word…?” He stalks down the street a few paces, and Flynn, excusing himself, follows quickly.

Lora and Alan_1 exchange a look. “I know that voice,” Alan_1 remarks darkly.

“A little too well for me,” Lora agrees.

Now it’s Tron’s turn to be confused. “How would you know Clu’s voice?”

“He’s just a copy of Flynn, right?” Lora asks. Tron nods. “They sound just alike, too, and when I heard that tone from Flynn? It usually meant he was about to be Bad Boss Flynn.”

He blinks, still confused. “And that means?”

“It means he’s about to tell you in the nicest possible terms that you’re screwing something up,” Alan_1 says grimly. “He doesn’t do it all that often anymore, but four, five years ago?” He shakes his head.

“I heard more of that voice than I cared to, my last year at Encom.” Lora folds her arms. “But thank god Flynn’s at least getting over it. Between Jordan and Sam, he’s definitely mellowed out.”

“I see.” Tron isn’t sure that he does, but he understands the gist of what they’re saying. “Clu is… very goal-oriented, sometimes. And I think he’s troubled by the lengths of Flynn’s absences lately.”

“Hence the Bad Boss voice,” Lora observes. “ ‘I understand why you haven’t done the impossible yet, but you really need to step it up if we’re going to make our quarterly goals.’” She deepens her voice in a fair imitation of Flynn and Clu both, and Tron has to chuckle.

“That does sound familiar,” he admits. Lora laughs, and Alan_1, at last, is smiling a little.

Tron looks past them both, down the street to where Flynn and Clu are talking. They’re far enough away that their voices aren’t carrying back, but Tron can see by the set of Clu’s shoulders that he’s not feeling charitable towards his User. Flynn reaches up, trying to put a hand on Clu’s shoulder, but Clu turns away from him. Flynn holds up both hands and backs away half a step. He holds out one hand, and after half a micro, Clu finally responds, shaking Flynn’s offered hand. Then Clu turns around and heads down the street, and Flynn begins making his way back to them.

Alan_1 has turned to watch as well, and when Flynn’s within earshot, he says, “That looks like it went well.” There’s a sarcastic edge to his voice, and Flynn shakes his head.

“Yeah, it, uh, didn’t really, thanks for asking. Anyway.” He puts his arms around Alan_1 and Lora’s shoulders. “What say we get this show on the road, kids? We’ve got about eight hours to see the wonders of the Grid, so we better get started.”

“Yeah, this empty street hasn’t been much to look at,” Lora says, grinning.

“It looks like a piece of sci-fi concept art,” Alan_1 adds. “Not bad, but… lacking context.”

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” Flynn quips. “You brought a lightrunner, right, Tron?”

“I did,” Tron replies, turning towards the street corner where he parked. “With the extra row of seats in the back, since you said you were bringing guests.”

“Excellent! Let’s hit the road, then!” He links his arms with Alan_1 and Lora, and nods to Tron. “Lead on, if you will, program.”

Tron nods back, and leads them down the street to where the lightrunner waits. Behind him, Lora says to Flynn, “By the way, I think we figured out who Clu is.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alan_1 says. “He’s you, when you’re being an asshole.”

“You mean I’m not charming one hundred percent of the time?” Flynn asks, laughing. “You wound me, Alan.”

Tron smiles to himself as he opens the lightrunner’s interior. He’s not sure even Clu could put a damper on these Users, Flynn included, and he’s glad Alan_1 seems to be getting used to things. With any luck, this will be a millicycle worth remembering.

Part Three!!