#life in a junkyard au

[crazycatkatetrap]

OK, IT IS 2AM, AND I'M INCREDIBLY SLEEP-DEPRIVED 🤩!!!!!!!!

(I know I already did a poll similar to this, but I've gotten some new peeps following me, so yeah🙃)

⚠️Also, trigger warning since most of the Sun, Moon, and Eclipse AUs involve sensitive topics, including murder, death, depression, and slightly sexual "suggestive" moments😏😉

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt. 55 (12.2)

part 1 | part 54 | ao3

A cop picks him up just outside Dinwiddie, two and a half miles from where he left his car on the side of the road. She’s plump and squat, with red hair and a midwestern accent, like Mrs. Henderson if she grew up in Minnesota.

“Wisconsin,” she corrects. “Hop in, I’ll take you to Lorraine’s.”

“Thanks, Officer…?”

“Greene.”

Steve accepts the offer because his fingertips are so cold they’re starting to burn through his leather gloves, and as she drives them to the diner in town he explains the flat tire — debris flying off an eighteen wheeler, a crazy loud clang followed by a flapping thud-thud-thud, the smell of burnt rubber as he eased onto the shoulder only to remember that he never replaced his busted tire jack.

“Coulda been worse,” Officer Greene shrugs, looking at him with a small grin and tapping a gloved finger against her temple. “Coulda hit ya in the noggin.”

“True," Steve chuckles, "could’ve gone four for four on the concussions.” He has to cover his laugh with a fake cough because he gets a flash of concerned crazy eyes in response, which is pretty fair, actually. Sometimes he forgets the details of his life all sound insane. “Uh. Sports," he amends. "I play— yeah.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. Steve watches the woods, the shadows reaching like blunt fingers over the hills, and the snow turns to freezing rain and pools in all the potholes as they splash down the sad main street, past a junkyard and an old schoolhouse, past boarded-up windows and short, stubby buildings full of failing small businesses. Lorraine’s is a hole in the wall at the end of a neglected strip, half the bulbs on the sign blown out so it just reads Rain’s in flickering yellow light, and Steve thinks that's fitting because this place is shit. This place is shit, and he feels like shit, and he’s going to have to drive home to his shitty trailer and see Eddie’s van parked across the street or maybe it still won't be there at all and he— he fucking—

"Easy," Officer Greene says. "You'll chew a hole through your lip doin' that." She parks the car and turns to him, squinting. "You okay?"

Steve pinches the end of his nose.

In the diner, she slides into the booth opposite him and insists on buying him coffee and a short stack, because, "Well, no offense, young man, but you seem like you may be goin' through it a bit."

Steve winces over his coffee, cradling the warm cup with both hands. “Yeah, well,” he sniffs, “my, uh…" Your what, exactly? "I got dumped.”

He doesn’t know why he gives her the details — the empty bed, the sticky note. Sorry. Something in her eyes makes him feel like he can trust her, and when they finish their meal she reaches over and lays a hand over his. Tells him it sounds like he’s got a lot of other people who love him; tells him he should think about giving one of them a call.

With a lump in his throat and fresh tears in his lashes, he fishes quarters from his pocket and trudges over to the phone. Dials one of the few numbers he knows by heart.

“Hello,” Claudia greets, “Henderson residence.”

A truly ugly noise escapes him, wet and thick with phlegm.

“Hello?” she tries again. "Dusty, is that you? Are you okay?"

Steve’s not about to cry where all the waitresses can see. “Hey, Ma,” he croaks when he feels like he can breathe. “It's Steve. Can I... do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?” 

—

part 56

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[lightning-and-dragons]

Jay as Samurai X

This AU has been on my mind for longer than a day so I figured I would post about it lol.

Jay Walker never becomes a ninja. Jay's parents ended up taking him to an orphanage instead of the junkyard, and Sensei Wu, no matter how long he searches, cannot find him. So, he must continue and find the other ninja without him.

Sensei Wu recruits the others, and tells Nya immediately that she's the Master of Water. Cole, Kai, Nya, and Zane soon become the protectors of Ninjago.

Jay begins working at a mechanics shop, feeling an urge to build vehicles and tech, an urge that he couldn't explain. After a while, he begins to notice how light bulbs break around him, how he has a strange connection to the lightning in the sky, and how he, and sometimes others around him, get shocked with electricity without any cause. It doesn't take him long to find out that he's the son of the previous elemental Master of Lightning, through a bit of digging online, discovering that she had a son that she had given up at the exact same time Jay was admitted into the orphanage.

But he's scared of what it means. He's scared of the lightning. He's not a hero. He's not like the Ninjas that save Ninjago every week. He's just a guy that didn't have friends. Who could barely afford to live in the city. Who had no family. He couldn't use his powers to do the good that they did. He would only mess things up if he got involved, that he knew.

He couldn't use his powers at all. He knew how dangerous lightning could be, and Jay couldn't control it. He didn't know how. And he didn't want to hurt anyone.

He buys a vengestone bracelet not long after this discovery, knowing that the stone dulls elemental powers, wearing it every day and every night, needing to hide the part of him that scared him, needing protect others from the lightning he possessed. It made a dull pain throb in his body, but it was worth it.

But, after Ninjago City is nearly destroyed by the Great Devourer, a new girl comes and uses the mechanics shop that Jay works in. Nya was beautiful, and Jay connects with her immediately. She seems to understand him in a way no one else has before, and for the first time in his life, Jay doesn't feel alone. They became friends very quickly, and when Jay asked her out on a date, she doesn't say no.

It doesn't take her long to tell him that she's the Water Ninja. Jay can't help but be shocked. He thought that the Ninja were people who were powerful, who were perfect, spending all of their time protecting others, devoting every second to catching the bad guys. He thought that they didn't bother doing things regular people did, that they didn't make any mistakes.

But Nya was exactly like him. Sure, she did save the world every so often, she was strong, but she also loved building vehicles, she loved ice cream, and laughed at all his jokes. She sometimes crossed a few wrong wires, she had bad hair days, and she had a bit of a temper, but she was still a ninja. She was a hero, but she was a person, too. She wasn't an all powerful being Jay was scared of, he could even relate to her. She was human, she made mistakes, and something about that made Jay relieved.

She taught him that the Ninja weren't all powerful beings who were above regular people. They were just like him. She taught him that anyone, whether they had powers or not, could be heroes, too.

Jay was inspired by that. But he wasn't strong enough to take off the vengestone bracelet yet, not sure enough of his own abilities and control to let his powers be free.

He wouldn't let that stop him, though.

It didn't take him long to build his mech, the Samurai X suit, a suit of armor that let him save others, let him help Nya, without risking letting his lightning be free.

And he loved it. He loved saving others, he loved the tech he uses, and he loved proving that he didn't need his powers to be a hero. He didn't need to be anyone more than who he already was.

Nya knows it's him right away. The other Ninja fight to find out who the Samurai X was, desperate to know who was beating them to their fights, but she kept silent. A few months in, Jay reveals his identity, and Nya eagerly introduces him to the other Ninja, so thankful that the man she loved had become a hero, too, and found the strength to finally tell her.

Sensei Wu catches on to the bracelet Jay wears right away, and confronts him about it, knowing that this was the boy he had been looking for for years. And soon Jay is torn between hiding his powers from the people he could now call his friends, continuing to be Samurai X, a hero that he was proud of being, or he could take off the vengestone. He could learn how to use the lightning that he was born with, the lightning that he was terrified of, for good, using it like Nya used her water, with control and kindness.

Jay doesn't know if he's strong enough to. Jay doesn't know if he's ready to let the lightning be free. But he also doesn't know if he's ready to pass up a chance to understand what he could do if he finally let his fears fall away.

[slytherinshua]

FLYING BICYCLES AND LOVESTRUCK MAGIC

genre. fluff. kiki's delivery service au-ish. a lil mutual pining. warnings. reader is basically kiki and sohee is basically tombo lol. some psychic magic mentioned. it's mostly just them being whipped for each other. osono cameo cause she's mvp fr. pairing. sohee x witch!reader. wc. 2.5k. a/n. the riize brainrot is SO REAL. idk why i felt sohee would fit the role of tombo so perfectly hes just sooo 💔💔 i love him guys 🥹

Sohee was 97.62436% sure that he was going crazy when he first saw you flying on a broomstick through the city. Of course, the other 2.37564% that had gone completely insane was fascinated, excited, and probably (definitely) head over heels in love.

He lived in a small town. One where the word went around like a whirlwind as soon as anyone new moved in. It was the most exciting thing that could happen for the residents there, especially when the newcomer happened to be a very pretty girl from a rich city. 

Most people would move out of the town when they reached 20 or so to discover themselves. Yet they always seemed to find their way back when they were a bit more settled. It was a rite of passage— a route to adulthood that almost everyone assumed the youth of the town would take. Sohee liked his town, though, and didn’t feel any need to move away. He had already discovered himself enough to know what he wanted to do with his life. 

There were exciting things to do that he doubted he would be able to do anywhere else. Visiting the town’s grandpa that ran the old antique shop, getting free candy from the young lady who ran the candy store after the old owner had passed away, seeing every new addition to the art gallery from the aspiring painters and sculptors in town. And, his favourite activity: investigating the old junk yard for spare parts to make his newest models.

Sohee liked to call himself an inventor. It felt spiffy and official. He showed off every new creation he pieced together with rusted tools and even rustier bits of metal like it was the next world-changing invention. He could spend hours in his dad’s old workshop working with nuts and bolts, seeing what the pieces could make once they came together.

He had been determined to make a flying vehicle for years now. After finding a beautiful old wind turbine in the junkyard when he was 14, he had started planning mock-ups for a bicycle. He would attach the turbine in front of it so that when you pedalled, the turbine spinned. The hope was that with enough inertia, you could eventually lift off the ground with it. He was skeptical that it would actually work, though.

He hadn’t officially talked to you yet. You had been in town for a couple days now, staying with the couple that ran the local bakery. Sohee thought you were absolutely beautiful from the moment he first saw you. He had been riding his bicycle past the bakery on his way to the carpenters to pick up some tools. One glance at you through the window had him abruptly pushing on the brakes, eyes going wide.

Maybe it was a bit of an exaggeration, but you looked like an angel. Or a goddess. Or a fairy. Sohee couldn’t decide which one, but he knew that you were the most stunning person he had ever seen. Since that day, he kept running into you in town, but his own nervousness had stopped him from talking to you properly. He had held a few conversations; enough to know your name and age, but clearly not enough to know that you could fly through the air.

Now, he was staring wide-eyed at the clouds, watching you soar just beneath them so effortlessly. He craned his head to watch you as long as he could before you disappeared behind the clock tower.

“Woah…” He whispered, jaw dropped in an awestruck expression. 

“She’s quite the girl, isn’t she?” 

Sohee turned to the side, nodding in agreement with what Osono, the bakery lady, had said.

“She’s amazing. Do you know how she does it?” He asked with a grin.

“Haven’t you heard by now, Sohee? She’s a witch! She chose our town to do her witch training.” Osono explained.

“That’s incredible! I didn’t even know witches actually existed! Do you know what she’s training in?!” Sohee felt like his brain was spinning at a speed incomprehensible to mankind. He kept thinking of more and more questions about you. He’d never seen anyone quite like you before, and the more he learned, the more intrigued he became.

“She said she’s still figuring it out— but she’s interested in love readings. For now, she’s using her flying skills to help me and the town. She’s an excellent delivery girl!” Osono beamed.

“Love readings…?” Sohee pondered the idea on his way back home. The next day, he found himself at the town’s library, scanning through the small section on magic and witches with more focus than he had put to almost anything.

//

“Miss witch, I’d like to get a love reading!” He announced happily, swinging open the door to the bakery where you were seated at the counter, seconds away from falling asleep due to the lack of customers. You jerked up at the sound of Sohee, immediately knowing that it was him from his playful nickname for you— miss witch.

“Really!? You want one!?” You jumped up from your seat and rushed around the counter to be face to face with him. Sohee had become your first friend in town. After he had seen you fly that day, he discovered the key to talking to you without being awkward. You could fly and he wanted to fly. There was a perfect common interest.

You loved talking to Sohee. He was infinitely more interesting than the kids back at your old home, most of which were stuck up and rude. Sohee was bright and kind and full of imagination and dreams and inspiration. He never got bored of you talking about being a witch, and you never got bored of hearing about his new inventions. You had never clicked so well with someone before.

There was also the fact that he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen. But that was… less important. You had a bad habit of crushing on boys without it ever going anywhere. You were determined not to repeat that disaster a sixth time.

“It would be my great honour to be your very first customer.” Sohee said dramatically, making you giggle with excitement. 

“Well, then, dear client, shall we go to my witch lair? I can’t perform the reading anywhere else.” You responded, matching his dramatics perfectly. He grinned and nodded and you grabbed his wrist to lead him upstairs.

“It’s a bit messy— give me a second!” You rushed around your small attic space that Osono had been so kind to let you stay in for free. You hurriedly put away the food that you had gotten for breakfast and shoved some odd trinkets under your bed so that they were hidden. Sohee just watched, his heart racing. He really needed to get that under control.

“Where’s my witching supplies- Aha! Here it is!” You held up a small purple box, bejewelled with gold ornaments. It looked ancient and rusty— exactly the type of artifact that Sohee loved.

You set down a thin blanket on the wooden floor before taking out the little baubles and setting them in the middle of the fabric. Sohee sat on one end, and you on the other. 

“Alright, mister… I have a series of questions, but for this to work, you must answer them completely honestly. If you lie even once, the whole thing will be messed up!” You had put on your mother’s joke witches had for fun. The sight made Sohee laugh, especially when you deepened your voice to sound old as you explained how things would work.

“I got it. I’ll tell only the truth.” Sohee promised.

“Once you answer all the questions, I’ll flip over this blank card. If everything works out, the name of the person you love the most will slowly appear before your eyes! Now… Are you ready?” You quirked an eyebrow, staring seriously at him even though on the inside you were about to burst with excitement. It was your dream to open your own love reading business. You just weren’t completely sure if you were good enough at it yet.

Sohee nodded eagerly, a mix of excitement and nervousness stewing inside of him. He wasn’t sure exactly what to expect, so he carefully followed along with what you did to make sure he didn’t mess anything up. You closed your eyes and he followed suit.

The questions you asked started out simple, without Sohee needing to deliberate before delivering the honest answer to you. But as they went on, they got more complex and more personal. Sohee had never doubted your abilities as a witch, but he hadn’t expected you to be able to see right through him.

“Last question…”

“Mhm?” Sohee could feel his stomach twist in nervousness, but he breathed steadily to try to calm his nerves.

“Do you believe yourself to be in love with someone at this current moment?” 

Sohee swallowed slowly, his mouth and throat feeling parched all of a sudden. He took his time to think through it, though the answer was almost painfully obvious. He had never been more in love in his entire life.

“Yes.” He finally answered with certainty, a slight burden lifting off his chest. It was almost as if he was confessing to you in a way— and though he didn’t say it directly, it still eased some of his anxiety. He opened his eyes hesitantly after answering to see your face scrunched in concentration.

“No way-” You opened your eyes as well, frowning in confusion and looking up to Sohee with a questioning gaze. “By any chance are you…?” 

“Huh?” Sohee blinked, confused at your actions. You shook your head quickly and stared down at the blank card.

“Are you ready?” 

“Yeah.” 

The air felt a little tense as you slowly flipped over the black card. You held your hand over it for a few seconds, shielding it from Sohee’s curious view. You lifted your hand carefully once you were sure it had worked and watched as the name slowly appeared on the card.

You sat in frozen shock once you read the name on the card, struggling to process what you had seen. Your name was displayed on the card, clearer than ever. There was no way that anyone could possibly mistake it or misread it, but you just couldn’t believe it.

“It- we- we must’ve messed it up somehow! There’s no way that’s- It must’ve got me confused, right!?” Sohee spluttered helplessly, his entire face a bright shade of red. Somehow in his calculations, he didn’t expect for the card to expose him that horrendously, right in front of you as well.

“I don’t think we did it wrong, though… Everything felt… right.” You said quietly. “Do you… like me?” You could barely get the words to come out of your throat. 

There were some parts of your magic that you still needed time to trust completely. Flying had always been easy in that aspect; you either flew or you didn’t. But when it came to love readings, you wondered how likely it was that your magic had gotten messed up. You liked to be whimsical and believe that your love readings could be completely accurate, but your confidence had never been as low as in this moment. 

However nervous you were feeling, it was a thousand times worse for Sohee. You had a small inkling of hope— hope that he would say yes. But for Sohee, he could only think of the possible rejection. Or the even worse possibility that this would tear apart your friendship.

“Yes…?” Sohee whispered out to you. You had never heard him this nervous or quiet before.

“Really? Are you sure?” You asked again, this time with a little more voice and hope surging in you. Sohee must have picked up on the hopeful tone, as he answered yes again, this time with more certainty. 

“Then the reading wasn’t wrong?! You actually like me?” Your hand clasped over your mouth before you could ramble anymore in your state of disbelief. 

“What about you? I mean… you probably don’t, right? But maybe…?” Sohee couldn’t help but be hopeful for your response, but he held himself back from being too expectant on the response he was dreaming for. 

“Do I like you back?! Of course I do- It wasn’t obvious before now?” You stuttered in disbelief.

“I mean- I hoped you did, but I couldn’t be sure.” Sohee clarified. The tension in the room had completely dissipated by now, and your smiles were slowly coming back as the reality settled in. 

“I’ve liked you since I moved here, I think. Didn’t you ever question why we kept running into each other before we became friends?” 

“No? I just thought it was a lucky coincidence.” Sohee admitted with a laugh.

“It was because whenever I spotted you biking around town, I’d land in a street nearby and pretend like I was always walking that way just to cross paths with you!” You corrected stubbornly. Now that it was clear that the feelings were mutual, you wanted him to know the effort that you went through to get closer to him.

“I also started going past the bakery on my way home. It added an extra 5 minutes to my route, but it was worth it to see you working through the glass window.” He scratched the back of his neck shyly, mirroring your smile when your eyes brightened at hearing his confession. 

“So… what now?” You questioned suddenly after a prolonged silence of both of you trying to stare at the other while simultaneously trying your best not to look obvious.

“Would you go out with me?” Sohee asked excitedly. “Oh shoot- I should’ve gotten flowers first. Wait here- I’ll be quick!” He stammered, rushing out of the room before you could stop him. He was gone only long enough for you to giggle in delight while you cleaned up the supplies you had laid out. Your witching skills had come in handy in the best of ways.

He was out of breath by the time he burst open the door again, but his eyes had never glimmered any brighter. He held a bouquet of pink and white roses, a little squished on one side from the rush he had been in. 

“You know you didn’t have to go buy these…” You bit back a smile, taking the pretty flowers from his hands.

“My mom always said the best way to charm a lady was with flowers.” He panted and grinned at you cheekily when you shot him a look. You smiled as you sniffed the sweet scent of the roses. Sohee was about to say something else, but you pulled him into a tight hug before he could start, the unexpected gesture knocking all words he had into another dimension.

“I really like you, Sohee.” You whispered, your smile twinkling as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

He took a second to get over the shock of you hugging him before he was wrapping his arms around your frame as well, mumbling back, “Me too.”

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien

[tripleglitchwriting]

I saw that the request is open, so I thought. How about a first contact au with rotb optimus? I've always liked that old bot haha

Hell yeah I rewatched the movie for this. Sorry it took longer for me to actually write this than I anticipated 😅

Some Things Are More Important

CW: Unintentional fearplay, calling a person “it” (also unintentionally)

Ah, the junkyard. A beautiful array of scrap metal glinting under the sun day after day, perfect for welding and crafting. For the longest time the atmosphere of the place put you off, but your drive to create overtook your fear and replaced it with passion.

The day your life changed was no different than any other. You took your time packing your things, preparing to scavenge once again, though the evening sun was already threatening to advance further down the sky. You didn’t need much, it wasn’t a far trip and certainly not a difficult one. You left in good time, pushing down the uneasy feeling you got when you stepped outside the house.

There was a specific piece of metal you were looking for, one you saw a couple days ago but wouldn’t fit in your cart due to how full it had been. It was the perfect size and shape for what you needed, of course you had to leave behind the one thing you needed now, though it couldn’t hurt to pick up some other materials while you were at it. Masterfully navigating your way through the junk was a special talent of yours, one you were quite proud of, so it struck you as odd when a random truck showed up in the middle of the yard.

It was red and blue, one of those trucks that carried huge cargo boxes and were scary to drive next to. It was pretty beat up, though you can’t imagine why someone would leave it here of all places rather than a used car lot or something. Well, you thought, it wasn’t your problem, so you didn’t treat it as such. You simply continued your search. There were so many great pieces of metal, you ended up staying there until dusk, yet you still couldn’t find the one you were looking for.

Now that you think about it, it must’ve been where that truck was now. Maybe somebody moved it, or worse, took it. It would be a huge bummer to lose such a perfect piece to your puzzle, so you figured staying out to look near the truck wouldn’t hurt anybody.

After around ten minutes of picking through trash, you heard a sound. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was unnerving to say the least. It sounded like metal scraping together so you brushed it off as the wind blowing on some light metal or something. Five minutes later it happened again, this time louder. Not long after it happened again, and by now you were getting pretty freaked out.

Taking metal from the scrapyard wasn’t particularly illegal, after all you’d learned how to do it properly from your law-abiding friends, however it came with a certain set of risks. Getting cut by rusty metal, stepping on a stray nail, or even getting robbed by someone who preys on scrap pickers like yourself. You didn’t want to know what the sound was and you weren’t about to find out, perfect piece be dammed. It was time to cut your losses.

You didn’t take two steps before it happened.

A strange, mechanical, alien sound rattled from behind you. You whipped your head around despite your survival instincts telling you to run immediately. Before your very eyes the red and blue truck started pulling itself part, little pieces forming a much, much larger figure. It looked nearly human really, if not for being impossibly large and also a robot truck.

A gobsmacked look etched itself on your face, not that you noticed it. You were a little preoccupied at the time, with the giant robot reaching a giant robot hand at you. Just then you realized there was a giant robot hand reaching at you, and you screamed louder than any horror movie victim ever could. The hand froze for a second, taken aback by your sudden noise, but when you remained frozen it continued its pursuit.

It was already too late by the time your body agreed to let you move. Incomprehensibly large fingers wrapped around your comparatively small form, gripping you tight enough to stop any struggles you tried to make. The thing held you up to its face, bright blue eyes shining like headlights in your vision. There were plenty of words that came from your mouth at the time, none of which were at any point comprehendible. To your utter shock, the robot seemed to notice this.

“Perhaps I have downloaded the wrong language pack… or I have found the wrong species…” It said to itself in a distinctly human voice.

“Wh- what the- what are- what are you?” Hooray! You got a sentence out. Your heart was not as excited though, as it felt more like it was going to pound out of your chest.

“So you can speak.” The voice boomed, knocking any hope you had of replying out of your throat.

“What?? What???” You rasped out, two words was better than none, you supposed.

“Did I… break you?”

“Did you- no, no you… didn’t. Please don’t.”

“I do not intend to bring you any harm, little one.“

“Then… stop squeezing… me” The grip immediately loosened. You took in a deep breath of air. “Thank you…”

“My sincerest apologies, I did not mean to hurt you.”

“That’s good to know… but, um, what exactly are you? I asked it before but… you know.” The robot nodded with you, a thoughtful motion but a generally unwelcome one because even the smallest moments it made caused you a bout nausea.

“Yes, introductions. My name is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots.” Optimus Prime… a strange name. Though it’s not like your current situation was any more normal.

“…I’m Whyen, nice to meet you. Could you… put me down, by any chance?” Optimus nodded, gently setting you down. He stood up again, but realized how much you had to crane your neck up to see him, so he resolved to a kneel.

“What are you.” However tough he looked on the outside, you would feel the sheer curiosity oozing off his voice.

“Uh, I’m a human.”

“Human… and you’re the dominant species on this planet?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“I see. I was lucky to find a vehicle mode with your language on it.”

“I… don’t really know what that means but ok. So, what are you?”

“I am Cybertronian, from the planet Cybertron.”

“Huh. Another planet.” You kicked by the oncoming existential crisis in hopes of more answers. “Right… so, if you’re from space, why are you here?” His face suddenly shifted from curiosity to a grim look of remembrance.

“There is a war on my planet. Me and my team have ended up here on accident, I’m afraid.”

“Oh… well, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I have no intention of staying here longer than we have to, doing so could endanger this entire planet.”

“Wait, what? The- all- the whole planet?”

“Yes,” He responded in a low, distant voice. “Our enemies, unlike us, would not hesitate to destroy any planet if it meant winning the war.” You started at him in shock. In an attempt to avoid further panic, you decided to take a different route on questioning.

“Who’s ‘us’?”

“The Autobots, my friends.”

“So you’re saying… you’re leading your side of the war? Like a general?”

“Yes, to put it simply.”

“Wow… this is… a lot. How are you going to find your friends?”

“I… do not know. I was attempting to contact them before I noticed you.“

“Oh…”

“Do not worry. If the Deceptions attack this planet, we will protect it with our very sparks. A young species such as yourselves do not deserve to be punished for our mistakes.” Your expression softened. As this metal titan spoke to you, in gentle, deep tones, you felt strangely at peace. You felt silly for ever being afraid of him, like you’d known this alien for ages. He didn’t even know you, yet he was willing to risk his life for your home.

“…Thank you.”

“Do not thank me now, young human, I have yet to get your people out of harms way.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you going to be okay?” Optimus’s eyes widened for just a second before his face broke into a warm smile.

“…I will be just fine.”

“Well, if it’s my planet at stake… I want to help you.”

“Help me?”

“Yeah. I know more about this planet than you do, so I can show you how things work around here. It’s the least I can do.”

“That is very kind of you, you have my thanks.”

“Well, first I have to get home and sleep- my house isn’t too far from here, and I live alone so you don’t have to worry about anyone else freaking out. Not many people live around here.”

“That is good. I… apologies if I am too bold, is it okay if I carry you back to your home? It would be in our best interest to get to your home as fast as possible.”

“Ah, true. Well, I guess so.” He laid out his hand. It took you a second to climb on a stabilize yourself, nodding when you were ready for him to move. And he did, and you guided him all the way home. You hardly even noticed the junkyard and forgotten scrap metal you’d spent the night collecting.

Some things are more important.

[bettyfrommars]

Ring of Fire

a biker Steve au

Part 1 || I went down, and the flames went higher

18+ONLY || afab!Reader, eventual smut, alcohol consumption, allusions to dirty deeds, smoking, allusions to sex with someone other than reader (not cheating), allusions to violence/fighting, bloody knuckles, eventual breaking & entering, biker!Eddie, biker!Hopper, reader and Steve are in their early 30's. Please read warning for each part.

masterlist playlist

Summary || You haven't set eyes on Steve Harrington since the 8th grade, but you have no problem recognizing him almost 20 years later when he steps back into your life. A lot has changed in Hawkeye, the town you grew up in, but a lot has stayed the same.

word count: 5k

A/N || This is my version of Hawkins, a town called Hawkeye, and it is a desert town surrounded by tumbleweeds, agriculture, and junkyards. Even though Steve is a biker and a mechanic, I try to maintain his "essence". I plan for this to be a shorter series, like 3 or 4 parts, but those are always famous last words from this lyin', cheatin' mouth. This is a niche fic, and for the ten people who will appreciate it, I love you.

The bell on the door dinged to let you know you had a customer, but you didn’t look up right away, you were too busy trying to figure out why your till was a few bucks short for the day.  Donna would not be happy.  Heavy foot falls made it to the counter and then the person in question cleared his throat.

“Ten on pump 2 and a pack of reds, please,” the voice was deep and scratchy, like he was recovering from a sore throat.

You closed the cash register and glanced up for the first time.

The sight made you inhale a sharp breath and hold it.  The man had on a thick motorcycle jacket zipped up halfway over a white tee, atop blue jeans that were a dark denim wash, faded over time, with a tattered hole in one knee.  There were tattoos scattered over his flesh, peeking from his collar, and down his hands.  Letters on his knuckles spelled something that you couldn't quite make out, and he had a luscious mop of maple syrup hair on his head that looked like it had once been gelled into place but lost the fight hours ago.  He raked a big hand through it slowly, pausing halfway through the movement, and tucked his chin to pin you with an anticipatory stare. 

The last person you every expected to see again was Steve Harrington.

He pushed his wayfarer sunglasses up to reveal hazel eyes that were just as sad as they were electric. Swiping the tip of his tongue over his top lip, he repeated himself.  “Pump 2?”

You gave a flustered wave of your hand.  “Yes, of course,” turning to pull a soft pack from the wall behind you.  “Matches?”

He shook his head, and then, “just a sec,” before sauntering over to the aisle on the other side of the potato chips.  

Tossing a back of Magnum condoms on the counter next to his smokes, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and said a polite, “those too, please.” The wallet was as worn as his jeans and connected by a chain to one of his belt loops.  

The cash register made loud click-clack noises as you punched in the numbers and gave him the total.  You weren’t expecting to see the wad of bills that fanned, but then he handed you what you needed.

“You new here?” He asked as you passed him his change, rolling a piece of bright green gum from the inside of his cheek to start chewing it again.

You stumbled over the question.  “New to this store or Hawkeye?”

A smirk lifted up one side of his mouth.  “Both, I guess?”

He was well aware that you were new to the corner gas n’ sip because he’d been a regular customer for years, and he definitely would have remembered you. 

Definitely.

Yet, something about you felt very familiar. 

“I grew up here,” your delivery was dry.  

Steve tilted his head back to assess you down the bridge of his nose and frowned like he didn’t believe you.  You noticed that his hands were rough and stained with evidence that he did some vocation of hard labor for a living.   

You decided to humor him with a clue.  “I left Hawkeye right before my freshman year.  My hair was different back then, and my mom drove a big, white Buick LeSabre—-”

With an unblinking stare, he blurted your name, repeating it a few times in disbelief as the memory seized him. 

There you were, the one who’d haunted his middle school dreams.  The first notable crush he ever had, standing a few feet in front of him 

“Shitttt,” he continued, scooping his purchases up in one hand, huffing out a breath.  He searched your face, and you watched the light in his eyes intensify. “You were a year older than me, right?  I remember you were always so bossy on the playground.”

You sealed your lips over a chuckle.  “Well, someone had to keep you and Eddie from dismantling the playground equipment to sell to the salvage yard.”

Steve chomped down on his lip in a smile, his hip finding the edge of the counter, trying to get closer to you.  “Copper,” he corrected with a one-eyed squint.  “We wanted to dismantle the lampposts.  Copper wiring could earn a pretty penny back then.”

“You’re still good with your hands I see,” gesturing to his calloused digits, the moons of his cuticles stained from motor oil, knuckles slashed with white scarring.

He flexed his right hand into a fist and then opened it again, deliberate and slow, watching you as he did so.  “I do all right.”

He was leaning over the counter at that point, elbow resting next to the cash register,  hip jutting out behind him, holding his mouth as if he were about to say something—-

“...and then, do you know what Ned said to me? Nothing, that’s what. Three days and I barely get two words out of him.  Before you go, there are two crates that need to be put away in the back—-”

56 year old Donna, your boss, approached the front desk from the back room, buzzing with conversation.  She stopped short when she saw Steve there, and tucked some silver, permed hair behind her ear.  

“Oh, hey Steven,” she greeted.  

“Donna,” he gave a twitch of a smile, standing to full height again, slipping his wallet into his back pocket.  “I was just catching up with an old friend.”

Donna had on bright pink lipstick and heart-shaped, baby blue clip-on earrings.  “You know Steve?”

“You could say that,” you stared at him as you said it.  “I’ve tried to put it behind me.“

Steve ran his tongue over the ridge of his teeth at that, and you could see that the left incisor was gold.  

Donna crowded in behind you, trying to get to the styrofoam container with her food inside that was on a stool just below the rack of caffeine pills.  It was leftover burger and fries from the diner across the street and the smell had been making your mouth water.  

“How’s Eddie?” Donna asked, and it was obvious she was talking to Steve. “Haven’t seen him drop by here in a while.”

Steve pulled his sunglasses out of his nest of hair and slid them back down to his nose before giving you one final look.  You backed up against the cigarette display to watch him go.

“He’s been busy,” Steve gnawed his gum, addressing your boss.  “Business at the garage has picked up since the only other mechanic in town split.  I work there part time when I’m not—” he swallowed back whatever he was initially about to say.  “---when I’m not doing other things.”

Donna shoved the corner of her sesame seed bun burger in her mouth, chewed it and kept talking.  “I saw Robin yesterday.  Her and Ratchet back together?”

In the past few days of your employment, you were learning that Donna was a pillar of gossip in the community, and she wasn’t afraid to ask the tough questions.  

Steve scratched the stubble on his chin, possibly contemplating how much he should share.  “I think they have an understanding,” he chimed diplomatically, stealing another glance in your direction. 

“Say hi to Wayne for me,” Donna added as Steve pushed his way out the mostly glass door.  He waved over his shoulder in response, nodding that he would.  

You shimmied further along behind the counter, pretending to organize the pens, so that you could follow where Steve was going, see what he was driving.  

To your surprise, he pumped gas into a hulking, coal black motorcycle with ape-hanger handlebars and blue ghost flames on the tank.  You were staring with your mouth slightly agape when Donna’s voice broke your concentration.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, cheek of food again.  “That boy is adorable, but he’s bad news.”

“Why?” The question was out of your mouth before you were cognitively aware of it.   

She thumbed ketchup from the corner of her mouth.  “You ever heard of the Coffin Kings?” 

Your gaze flicked to the side, catching Steve as he kicked a leg over to straddle the bike.  “I don’t think—it doesn’t ring a bell.”

You were lying; of course you’d heard of the Coffin Kings.  How could you forget the horde of long-haired bikers who cruised through town when you were a kid, a few of them stopping by to pick Eddie and Steve up from school on occasion.  Eddie’s uncle Wayne was one of the original members, and most of the teachers kept their manners around the boys for that reason alone.  Sure, Steve got detention for carving his initials into one of the school desks, but little did you know that it was only because he knew you would be in there too.  

Steve revved the bike to life until it was growling, idling in place with his back to you while he strapped his bare bones helmet on.  

“How do you know him?” Donna asked, not afraid to be pushy. 

“Well, I—” you thought about the specifics of that question.  “I don’t know him at all anymore, really.  We were just kids. It’s been a long time.”

“You want my advice?” Donna wiped her mouth with a tissue from a nearby Kleenex box.  

You didn’t, but you knew you couldn’t stop her from giving it to you.

“If you’re looking for a bad boy type, his friend Eddie is a much better catch.  Runs his own business, works hard, stays out of trouble.  Steve? Well, let’s say Stevie is just—-”

You turned to her as Steve hit the main road and shot into the distance.  “He’s what?”

You waited while she rolled her lips together, wetting them thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the ceiling.

“He’s a nice kid, but he’s trouble,” she sighed.  “He’s not the type you’d want to get serious with, if you know what I mean.”

Coincidentally, you did know what that meant.  You were a bit of a connoisseur when it came to trouble; not only could you sniff it out, but it flocked to you like seagulls on a parking lot french fry.  

But what Donna didn’t know was that you were no angel.

You scoffed at her suggestion.  “I’m not looking for a relationship any time soon.  I plan to stay single for a while.”

Donna dumped the rest of her dinner in the trash under the cash register.  “In that case, you and Steve have more in common than I thought.”

—-----

Steve had the rest of the evening off, he should’ve gone straight home to have a beer in his boxers in front of the TV and try to pass out early. He’d been slinging wrenches at Munson’s Garage that day, a double shift to help Eddie out, and his hand was throbbing so hard he had to take it off the throttle and shake it out. 

But also, who was he kidding?  He hadn’t slept more than a few hours that whole week. He needed a distraction, he needed people, he needed to forget his gut-wrenching loneliness for a while.  

He revved the throttle, shooting himself faster along the empty highway, passing nothing but flat alfalfa fields and the odd farmhouse every mile or so.  The low, desert hills rolled like sleeping giants on the horizon as dusk descended.

The Blue Light Tavern was housed in a brick building built in the 40’s, located between the truck stop and the Rosebud Motel, about a mile or so from the center of town.  The only way anyone passing by would even know it was a tavern was due to the neon Pabst and Jameson signs in the two tiny front windows.  There were already two motorcycles out front when Steve pulled up, and he found a spot at the end.  

The bartender that night was Angie, and she greeted him by name when he strolled in.  He asked for a beer, picked some songs on the jukebox, and started a game of pool with a fellow MC member, cigarettes bobbing from their lips as they played.  

That's when you walked in. 

He took a drink from his pint glass, pausing it there, watching you scan the room before making your way quietly to one of the stools at the far end of the bar, on the corner, closest to the door, as if you might have to make a run for it.  You were in the same clothes you’d had on at the gas n’ sip, but now you wore a zip-up black hoodie, hugging it around your ribs as if you were cold.  

The guy Steve was playing pool with was known as Big Jim around Hawkeye. Head of hair slicked back with generous sideburns down to his jaw, and a white scar making a thin indentation from the corner of his mouth to his ear.  He wore a long sleeve red and black flannel under his Coffin Kings kutte with the name Hopper patched on one side.     

Hopper said something to Steve and he appeared to ignore him, but finally blinked a few times.  “What did you say?”

Hopper held his pool cue across his lap as he sat on one of the tall swivel chairs against the wall, long legs braced wide.  “It’s your move, Romeo,” he drawled, plucking his smoke from the ashtray to take a drag. .

Steve suddenly got very confused, frowning when he turned to his friend.  How could Hop know he was interested in you? 

Hop gestured to the green felt under the Budweiser chandelier with his chin, exhaling, framing his lips to make an “O” with the smoke.  “Your turn, pipsqueak.”

“Right,” Steve huffed, shaking his head as he pushed off the wall.  

—--------

You waited outside, staring up at the Pabst neon that was missing the “b”, trying to work up the nerve to go in.  The Blue Light Tavern had been around so long, you remembered it from the rare occasions when your dad met up with his buddies, back when it was called The Hideaway.  Before the accident, back when you were a kid and considered Hawkeye your home.  

You were officially a resident once more, but you weren’t sure if you’d feel at home anywhere ever.  You weren’t sure if you’d ever feel safe again.  You weren’t sure you’d ever feel again.

When you finally opened the door, smoke billowed out, and the low-lit, grimey ambiance felt like a familiar friend.  You weren’t in the mood to drink, necessarily, you just didn’t want to sit at your apartment alone.  There weren’t many public places open in Hawkeye after 9, so you’d just been walking around aimlessly for the past hour.  Your tiny rental above the Gas n’ Sip was empty but for a mattress, two kitchen chairs, and five or six boxes you still needed to unpack. It all felt too dismal and overwhelming to tackle after your first full day at your new job.  

“What’ll it be darlin’?” The brunette bartender asked, using a white rag to wipe down the bar in front of you.  There was ice melting in a tumbler, a few used toothpicks, and a sticky ring on the woodgrain.  She scooped it all out of the way and then stared at you with a hand on her ample hips.

You were flustered and said the first thing that came to mind.  “Can you make a gin and tonic?”

“I think I can handle that,” she winked, moving out of the way to grab a glass.  You could hear the billiard balls clacking together over the music of Bringin' on the Heartache by Def Leppard , but there was a jukebox and a length of partition in the way, so you couldn’t see who was at the table. Including you, there were only a handful of customers that night; one surly man with a long gray beard at the bar, a couple at a table looking up at the mounted Zenith TV on the wall playing a muted episode of the Twilight Zone, and another two were throwing darts at a well worn target.  

Angie placed a white cocktail napkin before setting your drink down.  “Someone bought you this,” she had tiny veins of red around the cracks of her bare lips, as if she’d been wearing lipstick earlier.

“Someone?” Disbelief came first, and then it made you paranoid.  The last thing you wanted was to get hit on by—-

“It was him,” Angie gestured down the end of the bar to where Steve caught your eye and bucked his chin at you.  

The universe really did have a sense of humor.

—-----

A few minutes later, once he finished his game and let Hopper win just to move things along, he sauntered over to put his booted foot up on the bottom rung of the stool next to you. His white tee had a V-neck, exposing a tuft of chest hair.  “Are you following me?”

You swished your drink with a red stir stick, and then sucked it clean.  “I won’t let this freebie go to my head, Harrington.  I bet you buy drinks for all the new women in town.”

He gripped a fresh cigarette between pursed lips and lit the end, looking up at you from under his furrowed, James Dean brow.  “Yeah, but you’re not new.”

“Shhh it’s a secret,” you snipped two fingers in the air like a pair of scissors and he grinned at that, offering his pack of reds for you to take one. One of his ears was pierced, and a small silver hoop curved there.  

“Since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t,” you answered flatly, leaning over so that he could light the end for you with his plastic blue Bic, inhaling so that your cheeks hollowed.  

“You want to read my palm again?”

“Again?” You exhaled smoke to the side.

Steve straddled the stool and got comfortable with his elbows on the bar.  “You read my palm once when we were kids,” he straightened his arm, locking his elbow, so that his palm was open in front of you.  “I think you said my love life would be troubled, but I’d live a long life.  And then you made some crack about how I’d let the right one get away.”

You huffed a laugh and chomped onto your bottom lip to keep from smiling too big, staring at his strong fingers as they wiggled in front of you, veins popping strong in his forearm. 

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Tilting your head to the side, you took another sip of your drink, cringing a little at the strength of the alcohol; it was a glass of gin with a splash of tonic.  But maybe Angie’s heavy hand was a blessing that night.  

The gold in his tooth flashed like lightning in a storm. “I remember everything,” his voice was soft and deep, and you had to look away before he turned you into a brainless, lovesick zombie from his vampiric-strength powers of persuasion. 

Clearing your throat, you squirmed a bit under the weight of his stare.  “My palmistry days are behind me. I’m out of practice.”

He slid his hand back, but slowly, hoping you might want to touch it or grab it or—-

“But I am curious—”

Fingers flexed flat again as an invitation.

“---what does it say on your knuckles?”

“Oh these?” He made two fists and twisted them to read it himself as if he wasn’t sure, and then put both palms flat and slid them back in your direction, fingers splayed.  

Murmuring aloud as you spelled it out, you realized that the right knuckles spelled LOVE and the left ones said PAIN in thick, capital lettering.  

“My turn,” he pulled back his shoulders, taking another drag, squinting, before resting his cigarette butt back in the ashtray.

“Your turn for what?”

“Questions. What is that key around your neck for?”

You slapped a hand over the metal piece dangling from a chain, not realizing it had escaped the confines of your shirt collar, fingering it thoughtfully as you thought about what type of story you should make up.  

You could tell him the truth, but you weren’t sure you were emotionally equipped to answer any further questions.  You made a fist around the key and started massaging it with your thumb, when another hulking biker with a thick mustache cupped a meaty hand onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Bones just paged, we gotta meet them at the junkyard,” the big man shifted his kind, blue eyes to you, blinking with a nod of his head to acknowledge your presence, and offer his silent apologies all at once.  

Steve stood without argument, clearly duty bound, but his attention remained on you. He motioned Hopper ahead, and then he idled there, internally stumbling over his words.

“Any chance you’ll be here again tomorrow night?” He flicked the spark on his lighter a few times as he spoke out of nervous habit.

You tucked the metal key into your shirt.  “I work the late shift at the gas station tomorrow.” 

His mood seemed to lift slightly at knowing where you would be.  

“Taz,” Hopper hummed from the door where he braced it open with his broad back, offering a blast of fresh air to the nicotine saturated walls. Taz was Steve’s nickname in the club, but that was just one more thing you had yet to learn about him. He adjusted the collar of his leather jacket, gave your bicep a tender squeeze as he went by, and leaned down to whisper, “it’s good to see you,” at the shell of your ear, giving you goosebumps.  

Once he was gone, the tavern suddenly felt emptier, the sound of George Thorogood singing about drinking alone pounding much louder as you stared down at the glass in your hand.  

You finished your drink and then you made the trek back home, hugging yourself against the crisp night breeze, wondering how you would occupy your time for the next couple hours before you found sleep.

—------

The roar of their two engines cut through the dry June night like a knife, affording no illumination but their headlights and the moon.  Steve had replaced his leather jacket with his own MC leather that said TAZ on the front from one of his saddlebags, bare flesh of his arms exposed to show the scattering of tattoos there as he gripped the handlebars.  Both riders wore clear safety glasses to protect their eyes from the wind and the kamikazee bugs.  

Snipes Junkyard loomed menacingly in the expanse of desert, shrouded in cobalt night.  Heaps of twisted metal wreckage, smashed cars all piled on top of each other, and a high fence made of corrugated metal with curls of razor wire along the top ridge.  

There was a group of bikes parked out front when they arrived and two of the Coffin Kings Prospects, Riot and Krebs, guarded the gate to the place.  

Both new arrivals put their helmets on the end of their handlebars and tucked their safety glasses into their front pocket as they approached.

“What are we walking into?” Hopper asked, and Riot was already shaking his head in answer.

“The underground tunnels were breached,” he said, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind his ear.  “Crater isn’t happy.”

Crater was a Hawkeye native who got his nickname because of the chicken pock scars that covered his cheeks and jaw. He was also President of one of the other MC’s in town called the Skull Crushers.

When tensions were high among the gangs, there was always a good chance someone would pull a gun or start punching, so Steve and Hopper shared a weary look, bracing themselves before entering.

—------

Just as you were about to step up onto your block, you caught sight of someone coming out of the mini mart that you lived above.  A side door led up a flight of narrow stairs, and the top room was all yours; it was the size of a tin can, but it was shelter and you were grateful.  

Through the soft glow of the front window, you saw Donna’s husband Ned behind the counter with his half-moon reading spectacles on and a novel open in front of him.  Which reminded  you to make sure you brought some material to entertain you on your shift the next night.  

Somewhere not too far off in the distance, a group of coyotes yipped their excited whines.

The person who’d just come out paused on the sidewalk to light a smoke, and you sank around the corner of the building to watch the guy in the jeans, leather, and thick boots stroll over to put some gas in the tank of his Harley. Bulkier than the one Steve rode, this one was glossy obsidian with chrome pipes and a sissy bar in back, as if he usually had a rider with him.  His hair was unruly, long and dark, and once you caught a glimpse of his profile from the dim beam above the pumps, you knew right away that it was Eddie Munson.  

You thought about getting his attention to say hello, but then realized that your social battery was tapped for the day.  The cigarette dangled from his mouth when he took off, and you waited until he was down the street before darting to the stairs of your apartment.

—-----

A few hours later, Steve’s left hand with the PAIN held a black payphone receiver to his ear while the other hand rolled the numbers on the rotary dial.  His knuckles were freshly spit and bleeding, since one of the Skull Crushers had come at him during a misunderstanding at the meet earlier, and he was forced to lay the guy out.  He felt wired, like rest had somehow become his enemy, something he ran from as it tracked him ruthlessly.  

A woman who went by the name Lorelei picked up on the second ring.  

“It’s me,” he coughed and tasted that familiar copper tang. “It’s Steve.  Are you busy?”

It was almost 4 in the morning, but Steve had been a regular customer for a few months and, also, she didn’t mind his company.  He wasn’t like her other customers; he didn’t want the typical things from her.  

His hand haphazardly bandaged with a red handkerchief; he hugged it to his chest when he knocked at the door of room 8 at the Rosebud Motel.  When it opened, Lorelei stood there with a silk, periwinkle kimono wrapped snug around her curves, and motioned him in. There were two lamps on in the room, both of their shades draped with floral scarves, and a candle burned on the nightstand, smelling of essential oils, bergamot and lavender.   She didn’t live at the Rosebud, but she did stay a few nights in a row there when she was working.  

Steve's relationship history thus far had been a blur of endless disconnect, a series of hit and runs that left his heart empty and his eyes vacant.  It was easy for a guy in a motorcycle club to get laid; their parties were always crawling with eager pussy.  But after a certain age, that wasn’t what he craved anymore. He often worried that the parental dynamic he’d witnessed growing up, or lack thereof, had fucked him up to the point that he would never be able to have a normal relationship with a girl he liked.  

A while ago he’d given up on love, figured that he was broken. But he still had urges, and making them transactional helped him to disengage further.  

“What are you in the mood for?” Lorelei hooked a finger into his belt loop and pulled him closer, searching his face.  “Same as last time, hmm?”

Steve lowered his head, internal exhaustion making him dizzy.  He held her arm, thumbing the delicate material of her robe.  “Not tonight,” he swallowed thickly.  “Just the stuff that…comes after.”

Nodding that she understood, she cupped his chin so he would look at her. “Will three hours be enough?” One look at him told her what he needed was 24 at the least, but three was all she had to give.

Over the years, Steve had come to realize that his insomnia was somehow cured when he could sleep next to someone.  To roll over and have them there, to hold them.  Alone, his mind raced, and nightmares plagued the inside of his eyelids. With Lorelei, they mostly slept side by side, and the weight and familiarity of her was somehow enough to calm his nervous system down to a reasonable level.

“Come,” she sat him on the edge of the bed and knelt to unlace his boots.  He wrestled to pull his wallet out of his back pocket, ready to pluck some bills out, but she put her hand up to stop him.

“After, okay? I trust you,” she whispered, tugging off the first boot by the heel, rubbing the ball of his foot a little before moving to the next shoe.  

Steve’s head bobbed on his neck, and then he rolled it back to center, eyes heavy.   

He always refused to undress fully, and Lorelei suspected it had something to do with how vulnerable it made him feel, but she never asked questions.  He scooted up to find the pillow with his head, and by the time she crawled in next to him and put her hand on his thigh, he was out.  

-------

Thank you to my darling readers who love biker Steve!

[m-yg93]

Room For Rent ~ A Bangtan Collab

Living with a roommate isn’t always smooth sailing. Whether it's being plagued by a history of conflict, having met under bizarre circumstances or simply falling in love with the one person you know you shouldn't be falling for. Are you ready to put pen to paper and sign away on that room for rent?

After all, “the fate that brings people together is not a cord so easily cut”

Posting January 2023

*All works in this collab are marked 18+. Minors DNI*

→ title: Knocked by @sailoryooons

→ pairing: Streamer!Seokjin x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s):  Roommates to lovers, smut, humor

→ summary: Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - he was incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

→ title: Bad Decisions by @jjungkookislife

→ pairing: Tech Support!Yoongi x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s):  Friends to lovers, fluff, smut

→ summary: Jimin is desperate to get his apartment back to himself. He’ll move hell and earth, and even drop to his knees to beg you to take his brother, Yoongi, out of his hands. Who are you to say no to that pretty face and sinister grin?

→ title : Down To Ddaeng by @jeonjcngkook

→ pairing : rapper!hoseok x public relations!reader

→ genre(s)&au(s) : strangers to enemies to lovers, idol verse, one bed, smut & angst

→ summary : jhs is known to the world as the megastar rap god who broke the boundaries of rap music by taking the genre and turning it on it's head to a whole new level. and with his newfound fame comes his first headline slot at the world famous lollapalooza stage. but with thoughtless antics and terrible tabloids rocking his image; this is becoming a bigger issue for his upcoming show. management are forced to intervene to keep jhs from collapsing not only himself but the company's reputation.

you know what they say, keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer.

→ title: Solace by @m-yg93

→ pairing: Producer!Namjoon x f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s):  Roommates to lovers, smut, fluff

→ summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke. 

→ title: Down And Out by @minisugakoobies

→ pairing: Boxer!Jiminx f. Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): smut, angst, strangers to lovers, Roommates!AU, Boxer!AU

→ summary: Former boxing champ Park Jimin’s been down so long, he’s forgotten what it’s like to win. On the verge of throwing in the towel, his life changes when you walk through his door in search of a place to stay. Can he swing his way back to the top, now that he has something to fight for?

→ title: Artist’s Block by @bangtanintotheroom

→ pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Roommate!(F)Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s):  Non-Idol!AU, Roommate!AU, Smut, Humor, Roommates to Lovers

→ summary: With the amount of people that came in and out of your artist roommate’s studio, you were under the impression that he really got around. One day, you approach him, only to find out just what he’s been up to; trying to overcome artist’s block. Wanting to help, you come up with an idea that might help him fix his problem.

→ title: Quit Playing! by @joheunsaram

→ pairing: Cosplayer!JK x Reader

→ genre(s)&au(s): roommates au, enemies to lovers, cosplayer au

→ summary: Your roommate was a passive aggressive demon from hell. Not only did he snub you the first time you met him, but he has turned your apartment into a post-it covered junkyard, making you lose all hope of relaxing at home. Perhaps the cute Spider-Man cosplayer you ran into at comic con would be a welcomed change to get you out of this funk.

[xynczachrome]

Is this me avoiding drawing Wu? No, I don't know what you're talking about (After drawing Garmadon, me and my love last minute thought of Ronin since he appeared in the AU T^T)

Garmadon's Reign AU: Jay and Garmadon(Reformed)

After Kai and Nya left, Jay moved on as well and returned to the Junkyard seeing that the world was at peace after Garmadon was sealed away.

But when Garmadon returned and shadows were threatening his parents, Jay fought back and managed to find himself in a rebellion group that was led by none other than Zyro who managed to escape from being captured when Wu was caught.

Jay ended up being the resource supplier for the rebellion since he was the fastest and knew how to avoid the shadow.

But there were times when he got caught and sent to the dungeon where he saw Cole working as a guard.

He was of course angry since he thought of Cole as a good guy, not someone who works for Garmadon but he eventually got the message that he was forced to work for him when Cole helped him escape without alerting the shadows.

But little did Jay know, Cole did get punished for every prisoner that escaped.

---

Even after they managed to defeat Garmadon and helped him see the truth of his wrongdoing, Garmadon went to prison.

Of course, the people didn't want it, they wanted him dead, they wanted a public execution for him.

But with some persuasion from Tino, they begrudgingly agreed to put him in prison with a life sentence without parole, meaning:

With good behaviour, he can be reclassified down into a very open environment.

Try a job with a pay number, contact social visits, access to better recreation opportunities, far more access to phones, showers, and entertainment.

Only if he's on good behaviour.

If not, well, it would be a life of isolation and strict supervision for him.

Though that tends to be difficult when you're surrounded by people who either hate your guts or respect your wrongdoings.

But he did become a better father to Lloyd, behind bars that is.

---

Check out the others!:

-Garmadon and Lloyd

-Cole and Zane

-Kai and Nya

-Tino and Zyro

[inamagicalhallucination]

au where atsushi time travels to the past and its pretty obvious that he knows dazai but a different version of dazai but where everyone expects him to be upset or scared of pm dazai atsushi just treats him like he's going through a phase and doesn't put much attention to it

idk its funny in my head

maybe dazai has to house him becuz idk powerful ability user and ability nullifier

and atsushi is doing his usual atsushi things - trying to find a way back, cooking, cleaning (becuz even future dazai would be living in a junkyard if kunikida didn't break in every few days to clean up and later recruited atsushi to the cause)

anyway atsushi sees dazai come back covered in blood or whatever and is like "ah dazai-san welcome back! why dont you clean up and then come eat with me!"

dazai is just there trying to understand him and atsushi is like "dazai san you should invite your friends over" (he wants to meet oda in a normal way)

atsushi's trying to keep the future locked but he sees tiny akutagawa and squeals about how adorable he is so um...

no seriously he thinks tiny akutagawa is the most precious thing in the world

he's cooking his favorite foods to send to him and taking pictures of him and telling him how adorable he is and living his best life

and akutagawa is so confused but um he's secretly pleased but he wont admit it

when atsushi comes back he frames them all btw

chuuya was gonna room with him but when atsushi was being introduced he was like "what am i like in the future" and atsushi is like "... you have longer hair" and he doesn't say it but its obvious that chuuya didn't get taller and now he's angy

if its one of those sexy fics where the timeline splits and nothing atsushi does or says changes the future but also everything that he does or says also doesn't have no effect than atsushi tells dazai where to find mini him and what he knows about oda (its not much but dazai is smart enough to connect the dots when mimic happens)

anyway

[steviewashere]

Time loop fic where there's elements of Life is Strange; so a fusion of sorts, but not an exact au.

Steve Harrington, a seemingly normal dude—almost a nobody, is chosen to have these time-altering powers; similar to how Max Caulfield did in Life is Strange, where she traveled through old photos. In which he realizes the "destiny" of it all is to try and save Eddie Munson from supernatural danger/death. It happens when Eddie "dies" from the demobats. And right as Steve actually reverses time to save him, he's spat back out into 1983, following an aloof, and wanting to do good for the world, Eddie Munson.

(Also, Eddie would come to know about Steve's powers. He'd wonder: why me? Why Steve? He'd think of his life to be selfish, it would be a whole thing. Anyway.) My full idea is under the cut, I'm so sorry for rambling.

Eddie gets caught up trying to find Will Byers in 1983—nearly drowns when he discovers a "body"; Steve is there sulking (over something, you decide what) and notices somebody swimming out, doesn't think anything of it until they sink and don't come up for forty-five seconds—he jumps into lifeguard mode.

Eddie is at the junkyard trying to find metal scraps for a D&D map he's handcrafting for a campaign, gets caught up in the demodogs—Steve shoves him out of the way, all the while taking a gnarly claw to the chest. He survives, but it's a near sort of thing.

Eddie wanders out from a showing of a late night movie, Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are drugged out by the water fountains, he follows them to the bathroom where they proceed to tell him how Steve got beat up, he overhears a confession he probably wasn't supposed to be privy to—eventually, he's out fighting the mind flayer, being told to duck and get down by Steve Harrington.

The events of 1986 happen, as they initially played out. Except, this time, Steve has the memory of what it's like to watch Eddie come close to death. Over and over and over again. He had moments in time where he knew what it was like to be covered in Eddie's blood; knowing he cared too much and had to go back.

He's in 1986, staring at Eddie Munson's big, doe eyes. "Don't be a hero," he says—a threat, no longer a warning. And he's faced with two choices:

Save Eddie Munson OR

Save Hawkins, Indiana

If he saves Eddie, he swaps places with Dustin. If Dustin takes Steve's place, the demobats are no longer distracted. Steve realizes something that he must do. He has to abort mission, like what should've happened in the first place. Instead of fighting, Steve hauls Eddie out as soon as the others leave for Vecna's lair. Eddie squawks, protests, tries to put up a fight. But it's no use. Steve is set in stone. He could've left Eddie to rot in the Upside Down, but coming to know him, coming to know every version of Eddie, coming to know his family and his life and his secrets over the years (even if it seems like seconds to everybody else), Steve can't stomach that. He cares too much; knows what he wants.

Eddie is what he wants.

And Vecna, the Upside Down, Eleven's powers, the resurgence of the ugly and awful every year can finally be over if he makes this choice.

Up to this point, he had used the missing posters of Eddie to save him, to go back through time. But each time he goes back in time, Vecna gets stronger and stronger. If he tries it again, he knows they'll be fucked even if he actually does save Eddie.

He can choose to save Eddie.

He can leave Hawkins all behind, right before the demobats come flooding through the trailer. He can quickly escort Eddie out. In doing so, however, the demobats get to Vecna's lair. The demobats kill the others. Vecna gets Max. Jason gets Lucas. And Erica doesn't fair any better. In the end, with Steve and Eddie skipping town, Hawkins is destroyed by Vecna and his powers, succumbing. Everybody in this scenario dies. Eddie will not be known as a "satanic murderer", he would not face the death penalty after surviving the Upside Down and coming back to Hawkins; nobody will know that he was there when Chrissy died.

With choosing to save Eddie, Steve will forever live with a gnawing guilt towards the others. He would become less of who he was. He'd be forever altered. He would know that Hawkins succumbing would be his entire fault.

If he doesn't save Eddie, the events of season four still happen. However, Vecna doesn't win. With Eddie's death, Vecna dies—almost like they have an odd hive mind connection (you choose how or why Eddie has this connection, I don't have the brain to do so).

Steve comes out of the Upside Down with Nancy, Robin, and Dustin. He comes out clean and harm-free. Max does, and Lucas, and Erica. Everybody is safe—except for Eddie.

Since the town doesn't go into ruin, Wayne doesn't go to the high school when the trailer is ruined. He's still putting up the posters around town.

I think, too, that outside of Eddie knowing, Nancy would know. Because I mean, come on. She's the journalist, knows of the crazy other worldly shit. She had been somebody that Steve trusted, and he trusted her in turn. He comes to her with this knowledge. And they know, with the outcome of Eddie's death, they have to break the news. Edit: I also think Robin would come to know, she'd spot something wrong with Steve and she'd beg for him to tell her; she believes him, of course, and helps however she can.

They tell Wayne. Who takes it as well as any mourning father would.

And in the end, when Wayne isn't looking, Steve and Nancy take the rest of the missing posters. They take down all the other ones around town.

They burn them. Burn all of the missing posters. They burn any trace Steve has of interacting with Eddie in 1983, 1984, 1985. He gets rid of it all.

Steve won't forget who Eddie Munson is. And, yes, unfortunately, the town will still think of Eddie as the "satanic murderer". But everybody else would be safe. And in Eddie's last moments, right before he succumbs to his injuries, he tells Steve, "Do it. For Dustin. Nancy. Robin...Wayne."

If he doesn't save Eddie, Steve will forever live with a gnawing guilt anyway. He will know that Eddie's death was something he could not prevent, even if he wanted to. He would know that Eddie's death isn't his fault, it was supposed to happen in the first place, but he interfered just in time. Only Nancy would know of Steve's choice, of his guilt. (This wouldn't bring them together romantically (don't think of this as me pushing a stancy agenda onto you or whatever), but this would lead to a deeper understanding of their friendship; Nancy couldn't save Barb, Steve couldn't save Eddie. Something, something: You can't save people, you can only love them.)

And that's the dilemma that Steve would have to wade through. Does he sacrifice the guy that meets everything that Steve has ever wanted, the guy that he created literal years worth of memories with, the one he was so set in stone over saving; does he live with the guilt of killing his other friends? Or does he save the family he's come to know, just with a black, absent spot where the rest of his family should be—Eddie Munson; the guilt from his death instead?

Is Eddie worth saving?

That's the thought going through his head when he looks back at Eddie in the Upside Down. Is Eddie worth saving?

(Also, this could work as Jonathan x Steve or, another angsty one I just thought of, Jonathan x Nancy.)

[theweaselandthekilt]

So... @hart-on-my-sleeve and I were in the middle of an AH-MAY-ZING 🧠 ⛈️ and came up with an idea for an Old Timey PT Barnum and Bailey WWF Circus AU🎪🤡

They should be written like little mini drabbles or one shots about circus life under the big top🤡🎪

Typical 3 ring circus layout - pre everything so there's animal acts and freak shows etc.

Here are our cast of characters so far:

- 'The Colonel/Mouth of The South'Jimmy Hart - Ring Master

- Gorilla Monsoon - Ring Leader 2nd ring

- Mean Gene - Ring Leader 3rd ring

The Freaks/Sideshows- Andre The Giant, George 'The Animal' Steele, Zeus

The Clowns - The Ultimate Warrior, Brother Love, Bobby The Brain Heenan

Strongmen - Hulk Hogan, Big John Studd, King Kong Bundy

Animal Acts - The Funk Brothers and Cowboy Bob Orton Rodeo Round Up//The Macho Man and Elizabeth White Horse Equestrian show//Jake The Snake Roberts, The Undertaker and Paul Bearer - Spooky Reptile Act//Hacksaw Jim Duggan and his Pachyderms

The Stunts - Rowdy Roddy Piper - Fire Show (Fire eating, Motorcycle in the steel ball and BIG CATS (tiger taming and ring of fire with his kilt cape)

The Junkyard Dog - Cannon Launch

Mr. Perfect and Brutus The Barber Beefcake - Knife throwing act

Trapeze performance by - Sensational Sherri and The Genius.

Scott 'Razor Ramón' Hall - Prestidigitarian

Burlesque Act - Adorable Adrian Adonis (The Bubble Show) Cyndi Lauper - juggler

Carnival Barkers and Side Show Operators- The Million Dollar Man Ted Dibiase/ Irwin R Schyster and Virgil

OCs

@hart-on-my-sleeve - The Aerial Fiery Red-headed acrobat - aerial silks, ring dancer, tight rope walker

@84reedsy - contortionist, magician assistant, exotic belly dancer

@theempressar - Empresario - PT EMPI 🎩🎪

There are a TON of more spots to fill!!! PLEASE REBLOG WITH MORE WRESTLERS AND THEIR CIRCUS ROLES🎉🎉🎉

I'm EAGER to see what you come up with!! They can also be parts of roles already listed!!

[bowerspowers]

SCREAM AU 🔪

AU where the Bowers Gang all take part in being Ghost Face and terrorizing the residents of Derry.

Not sure if this has been done yet, so here’s my take!

TW for mentions of murder

Henry Bowers

• a very … motivated ghost face

• he chooses people he has a vendetta against

• honestly he chooses people who simply piss him off —

• the others have been trying to tell him why that’s not a good idea. “If we keep killing people who ‘Henry Bowers’ hates… everyone’s gonna find out who Ghost Face is!”

• unfortunately for him, the Losers Club is off limits for this reason… for now

• the messiest killer, repeated wounds found on the victims person. They’ve have to get separate masks simply because they are tired of cleaning the sheer amount of blood whenever he’s done with it

Patrick Hockstetter

• it was honestly his idea, he chose the mask, he chose the first victim

• nine times out of ten he’s the one on the phone

• incredibly charming, so deceptively charming

• gets shit from the other guys for essentially “face revealing” before killing someone.

• he loves the thrill of his victim’s eyes widening when they realize it’s been Patrick all along

• his victims are killed in such a methodical way, it’s put a damper on the ( lousy ) investigation because the contrast between Patrick and Henry’s styles are so different

Victor Criss

• the quietest of all the ghost faces, it’s no nonsense with him.

• genuinely scary because he isn’t loud and thunderous like Henry is, and he doesn’t taunt his victims like Patrick does.

• he’s simply quiet, and there is something incredibly terrifying about being stalked and chased by someone who refuses to speak even when the victim is shouting crying and trying to coax some reaction out of him

• when things inevitably start going south, THATS when the guilty conscience kicks in. He’d genuinely debated parting ways from his whole double life, he knew he’d never be allowed to, though.

Belch Huggins

• drives the get away car

• works mostly behind the scenes

• honestly when the guys require muscle though, Belch is the one to handle it.

• he was genuinely against it at first, but he was more or less forced into action.

• always the alibi. “we were at belch’s workin on his car.” “we were helpin’ Mrs Huggins with the house.” More often than not it checks out because while one or two of the boys are out causing carnage — the others are busy keeping a low profile. People just tend to assume they are all together even if they don’t immediately see them. Even though Belch is usually parked in an alley waiting for his friend to be done to drive him away from the scene.

• Belch’s car is far too recognizable to those in town, so he drives an old beat up ‘58 Plymouth Fury he found in the junkyard. He and the boys worked on it in secret

• Lowest kill count of the boys, but oh so capable of having the highest. He took out Derry’s quarter back with horrific ease, the adrenaline coursing through his veins gave him both a high but also made him sick to his stomach afterward.

[tht0nesimp]

Y!Bully!TBH boys X reader

TW: Drugging, weed, oral sex (m, receiving), poly, party, kidnapping, sexual themes, crying, dub/non-con, 16+ characters, modern au (THIS IS FOR 2 AND THE NEXT PART)

 You were dreading the junkyard the whole day, especially as lunch rolled around and vance stopped you in the hall “your eating lunch with us dipshit” you gulped and collected your thoughts “actually, i have plans with my friend..” he looked at you while holding back laughter and grabbed your arm, practically dragging you to the lunch room

Griffin waved rapidly and finney looked up from the textbook he appeared to be teaching to robin with billy just scrolling on his phone. Vance sat you down by your shoulders onto the bench and leaned down “try anything, we all post that photo”you nodded nervously and swallowed your fear “but i dont have my lunch” he sighs and heads back down the hallway…

He dropped your bag in front of you and you got  out your sandwich avoiding eye contact with everyone until griffin who sat next to you started pulling on your sleeve “napkin” his childish demeanor was strange for someone who had just seen you practically naked where anyone could see but as you handed him one the bell rang for 5th period

TIME SKIP BECAUSE IM LAZY AS SHITTTTTTTTTT

After 8th period you prayed and left the school slowly as you contemplate your life. But as you worried about being late you realized robin was beating moose up and your worries eased as you realized you were not going to the latest to the junkyard and sped up a bit to run to the junk yard seeing billy waiting outside of the entrance

He smiled at you and finney pulled up in his car with a smile along with griffin, bruce, and vance in the car too

“Your going to a party tonight darlin” 

billy spoke with excitement and malice…

[biographydivider]

I couldn’t stop thinking about @cupcakeslushie‘s Donnie in his lil black cami in one of the latest comics from their Separated AU, so I wrote a little lighthearted April and Donnie day out in its honour. I would lay down my life for hyper, slowly-learning-he-deserves-to-be-loved Three, and he deserves something fluffy💜

She found him crouched in a corner, behind a rack of coats, rubbing a black satin camisole between his hands and chirruping contentedly to himself.

April shoulda known D wasn’t ready for a trip out.

“Donnie,” she hissed, pushing aside a gigantic, furry, pink monstrosity in order to see her brother better, “what are you doing?!”

“April!” Donnie yelled, beaming. “How pleasant to see you here!”

A woman walking past tutted, saying something about kids these days and no manners. April whipped her head around to glare daggers at her retreating back. D had a volume control problem; so what? Least he wasn’t a passive-agressive bitch about it.

“Donnie. We came in together. Remember? I gotta pick out some jeans and then we’re going to get --” 

“Boba. I remember, I remember.” Donnie clicked his fingers at her, nodding so fast April wasn’t sure how he didn’t tweak a muscle. “But look what I found; look look look look.” He inched his way out of the coat rack and was pushing the vest into April’s hand, still passing the material back and forth between his finger and thumb. “Oooh. Soooooft.”

His eyes glittered with delight, and April had to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing; she had to at least try to be a voice of reason, here.

“Get up. You look like a pervert. Sittin’ on the floor with undergarments in y’hands.” She hauled Donnie to his feet, re-adjusting his hood so his green skin wasn’t as visible. “‘Nah, Raphie,’” she muttered sarcastically to herself, “‘Me an’ D’ll be fine on our own for one afternoon, suuuure...’”

“I’m going to buy it,” Donnie was saying, looking down at the puddle of satin in his palms. “I’m going to buy it - with the money Spl...that Papa gave me. And I’ll only use it to clean up my very best paints. Or I’ll make it into a...a pillowcase. Ooh, or even better; I’ll hang it up on the wall in my room! And when I finally - finally! - get my hands on some uranium I’ll use it to create a pattern on the fabric - so when I use my blacklight, it shines! Or...”

“Or,” April interrupted, slinging her arm around Donnie’s neck, “you could wear it. Like you’re supposed to.”

A tiny crease appeared between Donnie’s unnervingly immaculate brows. “Wear it?”

“It’s a cami. To go under your clothes? Or by itself, so you can show off those guns of yours.” April poked her brother in the bicep and was quietly thrilled to hear him laugh under his breath at the joshing. There was a time when Donnie had flinched away from any and all roughhousing; which, as the family slowly and tentatively tried to glue themselves back together, made April sadder that she’d ever mention out loud.

“Papa said no guns in the lair. I asked.” Donnie’s gaze was torn away from the camisole. “And I can’t wear it. Not something this nice. I’d...I’d spoil it. Tear it. Get it dirty.” Suddenly, that manic glitter in her brother’s eyes was clouded by a shimmer of tears. “C-contaminate it.”

Well. If that didn’t just break your heart. It suddenly occured to April exactly why Donnie had hidden himself away with his treasure, without showing her or telling her where he was going. Because he didn’t feel worthy of something as inconsequential as a stupid vest top.

Donnie and April hadn’t exactly got on when he’d first crash-landed in her life. Being used to big, kind, stalwart Raphael hadn’t prepared April for a brother who was spiky, loud and more than a little brittle. But then Three...Donnie...D...had started to relax. A little. And Raph had told her things, like when they’d had a trip to the junkyard together and he’d learned a little more about his brother’s past. No wonder this kid thought he was a walking bio-hazard. And slowly, the loudness had started to look like passion, the spikes like defensive armour. The brittleness like a desperation to be loved. And if there was one thing April could do, it was love.

“Get in there,” she said, shoving Donnie towards a changing booth at the back of the store.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“It’s too bright!”

“I know, changing rooms have bad lighting so you feel like shit an’ buy their stuff to feel prettier.”

“I see -- aghh! My face! My porous face in the mirror!”

“Close your eyes, then, and put your arms up.”

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

“April I refuse to be part of this harshly-lit torture chamber for a moment --”

”Okay fine! Come out. Better? Okay. Arms up. Hoodie off - just for a second, then you can have it back, alright? Then just slip your hands through those holes there, let me just pull that into place annnnd...yep! Open your eyes.”

As Donnie regarded himself in the mirror, April wondered if she’d made a mistake. His body language was...well, it was non-existent. He’d gone stock still, staring blankly at his own torso. Then, both hands came up to flatten the material against his plaston, and a shaky, wobbling smile broke across her brother’s face. It was only when those hands began to flap, fanning the sides of his face, that April could finally breathe.

“I look...resplendent.”

“Dang right you do!” April squeezed his shoulder, snapping off the tag at the nape of his neck. That way, the lady at the counter could scan the barcode without interrupting Donnie’s flow. “I should do this for a living. April O’Neil; Personal Shopper! So - how would you rate your experience with us today, sir? Very satisfied, very very satisfied, extremely satisfied...?”

[revlischarm]

Hydrodynamic AU

uhhh hi so. This has been cooking in my brain for a few months now (6???) and basically it’s a ROTTMNT Separated AU with Donnie as the focus but like, y’know. It’s all of them. I call it Hydrodynamic AU cause a lot of it comes from Donnie being more…water-based I suppose?? Either way. Yeah.

The story (if I ever find the willpower to draw it up) would revolve around Donnie going out and finding their siblings in the various locations; not to try and turn them towards the side of light or whatever. Donnie just wants to hang out. The universe has other plans, however.

More on each character under the cut!!! And lmk if any of you are interested in this!

Donatello Hamato

•Raised by Splinter

•They/them pronouns (Non-binary!!)

•Goes by the usual canon nicknames, but mainly uses “Dee”

•This Dee’s whole thing is being extremely water-based

•Donnie actually knows Repo Mantis before he got mutated! They started sneaking into his junkyard as a kid and got caught and they actually bonded

•When Don got older, they started helping Repo out with repossessing work; the two are even closer after Repo mutated!

•Don usually doesn’t wear their battleshell in this AU! It gets in the way of swimming stuff, so they prefer to be without it most of the time

•All of their stuff is painstakingly designed to the waterproof

•The whole lair has a ton of water slides in it, it’s super fun

•AUTISTIC!!!

•Don is extremely bad at socializing and doesn’t know how to mask (nor do they care for it). Can’t identify social cues well.

•Still friends with April; Don also hangs out with the Purple Dragons regularly (they give them ✨validation✨)

•Athletic only in how they’re an avid swimmer

•Really likes Lou Jitsu movies, and likes hearing their father talk about the films

•Splinter helps them train when they ask, thought Donnie also trains on their own with just. Copious amounts of research and looking up techniques

•Splinter is also extremely overprotective of D due to both their soft shell and the fact that he lost D’s siblings previously.

•More open to active destruction than canon Don?? At least in the way that’s like. More disregarding the well-being of others sometimes. Basically this Donnie doesn’t have their brothers to stop them from doing stuff. Violence and loose morals ensue.

•Builds Shelldon earlier on in life (was lonely and wanted company)

•Don has thoroughly explored the city’s sewers and set up tons of markers so they wouldn’t get lost; they’ve practically memorized the layout underground by now. Don has also installed a filtration system in the sewers to help take care of pollution because they don’t like how icky the waters can get

•Uses more turtle noises than actual words at times

•Fights with tech bō staff, but also knows the basics of other weapons; has the second most proficiency in daggers/knives.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism until meeting Mars and Draxum

•Technically, Donnie meets Mars first, then Leo, then Rento. However, we later find out that Don has met one of their siblings beforehand and knew of their existence. But that’s for later.

Marciano Draxum

•Raised by Draxum

•He/they pronouns

•Goes by Mars most commonly, but other nicknames include Marc, Marcie, Mar-Mar, Marky, Marce, and Marcus

•Draxum is actually a good parent okay

•Instead of Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch, we get Sir Feelings and Sir Delicate Touch (they’re used as ranks, it’s some class thing idk. It’s ranked below Baron is all I know)

•Feral

•At a certain age Draxum started letting them out more (with supervision) and Mars got super friendly with all the yōkai he came across!! Due to this, Draxum has a much stronger active relationship with the Hidden City yōkai community.

•Mars uses their free time to create art around the Hidden City

•Has never seen the surface; wonders what the sky looks like

•Extremely strong mystic powers that were discovered early on

•Mars knows like, everyone in the city, and by the time they’re older are allowed to go about it from the lab as he pleases.

•Has a secret fascination with humans and their stuff that he keeps from his dad

•Draxum mellows out a tad raising Mars, being fatherly and all that. Still wants to take down humanity, he just wouldn’t do it if it meant endangering his child.

•Mars is an extremely adept fighter, having trained with Draxum since they were able to.

•Secret love for Lou Jitsu movies that he found one day in the yōkai markets

•He and Leo have met before and they have a very intense rivalry. Those two. Do not like one another.

•The reason behind the name “Marciano” is that I doubted Draxum would name his kid after some human artist. “Marciano” has French, Italian, and Latin origins, though I was mainly going for Latin when I chose it. It means little warrior! The name also has a lot of relation to the Roman god of war, Mars, which also happens to be the main nickname I picked! So it fits.

•Doesn’t like to kill; would rather thoroughly incapacitate a person through extreme measures instead.

•Terrible swimmer

•Draxum’s whole place is a lot more…nice looking? It’s got more style and creativity to it. Mars helped decorate.

•Fights with kusari-fundo and hand-to-hand mostly. Also knows the basics of fighting with other weapons.

Leonardo

•Raised by Big Mama

•He/him pronouns

•Trans man

•Goes by Leo most commonly; the other in-canon nicknames still apply too

•Both outfits are colored after Leo’s pride flags

•The paint designs vary a lot, Leo likes to show variety

•After meeting Donnie, he actually starts to incorporate more purple into his color scheme!

•Gay gay gay gay gay gay GAY.

•Fights in the Battle Nexus for fun; really loves the thrill of it.

•Spoiled

•Manipulative as fuck, picked it up from his mother. EXTREMELY good at lying

•Gets bored easily and will act out to negate this feeling

•Talks a whole lot while fighting; always making jokes, trying to throw his opponents off their game. (Think Spider-Man or Deadpool)

•Leo can actually get really violent at times

•Backstory behind Leo’s name is that they had an old name when they were younger and hadn’t come out yet, but upon realizing they were trans, wanted to pick out a new name. Big Mama gave him a ton of resources and books and stuff to help with that process, but it was actually in an old book of Lou’s that had been left behind that Leo found the name “Leonardo” and went with that. It’s a really stupid coincidence, but it is what it is.

•The fact that Leo chose that name from one of Lou’s books is bittersweet for Big Mama. And kinda funny lol

•Mars and Leo have a rivalry that formed because of BM and Draxum.

•Super fond of Lou Jitsu movies, but can only ever watch them in secret

•Leo will sneak out to Hueso’s whenever he can because he feels like it’s the one place where he can relax and not have to hold up appearances

•Leo still knows Spanish in this au

•He’s still a very cocky showboat in this, just dial that up to 11.

•Mainly uses ōdachi or katanas to fight, however, Leo tends to just use whatever’s on hand in matches. Knows how to fight with a wide variety of weapons semi-professionally (and I say that loosely, Leo mostly just wings it)

•Able to use mystic powers and uses them well, but prefers not to when fighting.

•LOVES stage magic with a passion, and actually practices it in his spare time.

Rento Jones

•Raised by the Foot

•She/he pronouns

•Goes by Ren for short

•Backstory for Rento is that little Cassandra was lonely and didn’t have anyone her age in the clan, and the Foot Lieutenant & Brute ended up finding this baby snapping turtle on a whim and gave him to her as a pet. Little did they know Cass just gained a new sister instead of a pet.

•Much more prone to violence than in canon (or at least to anger)

•The name Rento has a few meanings to it, but I mainly chose it because it started with an R and it fit. And was of Japanese origin.

•Cassandra is adamant about the two of them being siblings, and since Ren didn’t have a last name of her own, Cass shared hers

•Rento is still extremely soft on the inside, but is very afraid to show that side to people he doesn’t know.

•The entire Foot Clan will annihilate you if you hurt Rento in any way

•The clan is super fond of its spiky murder reptile!

•Ren doesn’t realize what she’s doing might be seen as “wrong”, he’s just focused on helping the Foot and being proud of that. Only ever hesitates when directly hurting innocent people or animals comes into the picture.

•Rento’s only issue is with hurting innocent people or creatures; she won’t hold back if something gets in his way.

•Cass and Ren have a habit of hyping each other up

•Rento is super proud of looking big and scary cause it means she can better protect the people she cares about!

•Cass and Ren can both speak Japanese to a degree

•She has a huge collection of plushies that have either been gifts to him or were stolen from large businesses; can’t sleep without at least a few plushies around.

•Only turtle of the four who doesn’t know anything about their backstory or having siblings

•Switches between sai and tonfa to fight, but mainly sticks with the sais.

•Second-best fighter of the turtles; also knows how to fight with other weapons in basics. Mainly relies on hand-to-hand combat.

•Doesn’t know anything about mysticism

•Not very good at origami

•Loves watching Lou Jitsu movies, though Cassandra doesn’t share the enthusiasm.

[antimonyandthyme]

guanyu/fernando; undercover cop au

Fernando’s out in the phonebooth by the bar, foot tapping a doomed tattoo into the ground. The phone rings, and rings and rings.

Shit’s going to hit the fan.

He tries a second and a third time, and Ron never fucking answers, and Fernando has face up to the fact that his handler might have just upped and left the burner Blackberry and went back to be happy with his wife and kids. While Fernando’s out here, as stranded as a desert island can ever get.

He tries one last time, just for luck.

“Hello?”

It’s not Ron. It’s some—voice Fernando doesn’t even recognize. Young and almost dangerously curious. Some kid stayed too late in the office, trying to impress someone, and hearing the phone on Ron’s desk go off like a fire alarm, one, two, three, four times. Some kid winding up with a mess six feet deep. Shit.  

“Yeah, delivery,” Fernando says sharply, hopes to god whoever is listening follows. “Junkyard Bar by the Highway, you know that one, piece of shit by the side of the road. Baddest place there is.”

A beat, then the kid says, “Understood.”

Either the brightest in the class, or the absolute dumbest.

“I need delivery,” Fernando says again, as two drunk idiots, strapped to the nines, stumble out and pass the phonebooth. “Get me two large fries, a cheeseburger, and a coke.” It’s 24 hours at some fast food joint somewhere. The kid’s going to have to figure it out.

“Need backup?”

“No,” Fernando grits out. He needs a believable way out of this, not for the whole squad to show up and blow his cover. “Just get me my food, and get it fast.”

“I got you,” the voice says and the line goes dead.

Fernando takes a second, breathes. Thinks of every possible way this will end with a bullet in someone’s neck. Down by his boot the dust settles.

He saunters back in. Raises a hand for another drink.

“What d’you order?”

“Cheeseburger and fries,” Fernando shrugs. “Make my life a lot easier if your kitchen still worked.”

“It’s past midnight, asshole,” the bartender says. They thrive on a relationship of annoyance, nothing too friendly, nothing bordering on disdain to make him memorable. Exactly where Fernando needs to be. He sloshes beer down his chin, and the bartender takes that as his cue to find someone else to talk weather with.

Fernando counts the minutes, barely tastes the hops swirling on his tongue. Behind the bar, in the den hiding in plain sight, something’s happening. He clocked it the moment he saw the owner and the man he’d been tailing for a whole nine months slide in fifteen minutes ago. Cash is being exchanged. Hands are being shaken. Throats are being slit.

He squints at the sudden lights flooding through the window. Fernando swallows his pulse.

“That’ll be my fucking dinner,” he announces to no one in particular. He heaves himself off the barstool, pats around fake drunkenly for his wallet in his back pocket. No one pays him a second glance.

The kid’s in a McDonald’s uniform. A uniform. And he’s got a takeout bag in one half-outstretched arm.

Even through the rush of adrenaline now spiking through him, Fernando finds it in him to be wildly, stunningly, impressed. The kid had gotten a fucking uniform.

“Sir, I’m really sorry, but I just realized they sent me out without your fries.”

He was saying it softly enough not to cause a commotion, but loudly enough that there’d be several witnesses.

“Motherfucker,” Fernando says, waiting for his lead.

“I can go back. Or maybe, you could—”

“I’ll come with you,” Fernando interjects, getting the plan immediately, “or I’ll just be sitting here waiting for your sorry ass until I starve.” Slams his beer bottle down with just enough irritation to make it utterly convincing. He’s ornery even on his best days here. The bartender rolls his eyes and goes back to his drinks.

Fucking perfect.

He gets into the kid’s car, a nondescript, unnoteworthy Subaru. As the kid tears off, Fernando says, breathless, “I can’t believe you got a uniform.”

The kid shows his teeth through the rearview mirror. One hand on the wheel, one hand peeling the McDonald’s delivery cap off his head. “Paid for college.”

--

At first impression, Fernando wouldn’t have pegged Guanyu as someone vindictive. But Guanyu, who showed up in a uniform with a crumpled takeout bag, Guanyu, who bailed him out of that bar when Fernando had thought he was fucked all ways to Sunday, is full of surprises.

Guanyu reports Ron for negligence, and takes it up with Homicide, then the Chief, and follows it up and up and up and up, like he’s pulling determinedly at the multi-coloured handkerchiefs coming out of the magician’s bag until he’s convinced he’s got the last one. The information Fernando provides is grade A fuel. The case is now big enough that they’ve got two whole divisions working on it. To save face, the bosses move Ron out of state. Fernando can’t find it in him to care less.

They sit outside in the precinct parking lot, sharing fries.

“I can’t see you having worked here.”

Guanyu laughs. “I lied. I went into the McDonald’s flashing my badge.”

“Guns a-blazing.” My hero.

“I said I needed a uniform. I changed into it, right in front of the cashiers. They looked at me as if I was from another planet.”

Fernando grins into his cheeseburger. If the Chief looked out right now, he’d see his most promising recruit fraternizing with a wounded dog who barely even reads his own name right these days. Not the best look for Guanyu, who knows it, surely. Fernando can’t figure it out. Can’t figure him out.

“So,” Guanyu clears his throat. “It seems like you’re out a handler.”

Fernando shrugs. “I’ll be on loan to whoever wants to keep me.”

“Sounds like a shit deal for you.”

“When is it not?”

Nobody of the right mind works undercover. Fernando’s learned to play cards with the hands he’s dealt.

“It won’t be that way with me,” Guanyu says.

Fernando stares. Way he says it, sounds almost like a proposal.

“It is,” Guanyu says wryly.

“Why,” Fernando says.

“Smart as all hell, and I’ve heard you do it all.”

“Oh,” Fernando says soft, dangerous, “you’ve heard, huh?”

Guanyu has the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Ron didn’t know what to do with you.”

“And you do?”

“I know how to pick up when you call,” Guanyu says. “I know how to heel.”

Fernando wants to shake some sense into the kid. “It’s usually the other way around.”

Guanyu smiles. Something small, something secret. A flash of something curious, like that first Hello? when he’d answered Fernando’s distress signal. How deep into Fernando’s files did Guanyu read? “Not for you.”

“And you’re fine with that,” Fernando says, just short of incredulous. After all, he’s learning Guanyu’s full of surprises. “You’re fine with me going, heel.”

Guanyu goes tight for a quick second. His ears are a little too red for the late summer weather.

Interesting, Fernando thinks.

Fernando holds out his hand. Greasy from the fries they’ve just shared. It takes a moment before Guanyu looks him in the eye.

When he does, that same composure that carried him into the bar that day is back.

They shake.