#pizza tower screaming silence

[ask-the-screaming-silence]

[antebunny]

There’s something wrong with Jason. 

Early autumn of Cass’s first full year as Bruce Wayne’s daughter. Trees droop, browned and unbearably brittle, onto the cracked sidewalks. Children skip and slouch and trudge their way back into classrooms for another dull year of learning. The exception is Cass, happily at home with Barbara and Bruce, Tim and Steph and Dick and all the new members of her new family. None of them know quite how old Cass is, and resolutely refuse to have anything to do with Lady Shiva or David Cain, the only people who could tell them. But Barbara went to bat for Cass, arguing that the American education system was not beneficial for all American children, much less Cass, who was still adjusting, as Barbara put it. Learning to come out of her shell. So there’ll be no school for Cass this autumn or any autumn. Only apple cider and hot cocoa, safely tucked away by the fifth fake fireplace of Wayne Manor, curling up in window frames just to listen to the psithurism before the rain, and a flood of scarves and mittens and boots as every member of her family tries to prepare her for the incoming Gotham winter. 

Personally, Cass doesn’t get why introverts are always encouraged to become more extroverted. She thinks extroverts should be told to shut the hell up more often. Perhaps it is an American thing, she muses, but then, she loves her new family for their relentless positivity and inability to shut the hell up. From Steph, who drags her on girl’s night after girl’s night with Barbara, Harley, and all the other crazy girls of Gotham who want to paint their toenails neon purple with little stars and crack skulls open just to feel something. (Whenever Harley robs a department store she always sends Cass a dress she thinks she’ll like in the mail. Bruce always gives her a look, sends it back, then buys ten variations of the same dress). To Tim, who is hard at work learning ASL so they can communicate better and shares all of his embarrassing interests with her. Niche anime, questionable manga, decrepit video games, card games, board games, and a stash of Batman and Robin photos he swears her to secrecy over. To Dick, who remains upbeat and cheerful in the face of all her silences and stony stares. He always makes time to take her (and usually some of his other little siblings) to a pizza parlor, or an ice cream parlor, or an abandoned parking lot perfect for doing donuts. Dick Grayson is a busy man who gained most of his current family after turning eighteen and losing most of them beforehand. Yet his heart opens, bottomless and sincere, for every new orphan that shows up on Bruce’s doorstep. When he drops by Cass’s ballet studio, exhaustion crinkling in every forehead line and eye wrinkle, how can she not love him back? 

So she takes it personally when Jason continues to avoid them. Perhaps she could ignore it if it was clear that he wanted nothing to do with them, no matter how much the others missed him. But everytime they run into Jason it is clear to Cass that he misses them fiercely. She may not be an expert on the standard personality and behavioral ticks of Jason Todd, but she is an expert on body language, and everything about Jason screams bad, wrong, liar, liar, LIAR–

Cass goes to Barbara. 

These days Barbara spend the vast majority of her time in the Clocktower. Ever since the Joker, Cass has been told, and hung up the Batgirl cape. She rotates between the library and the tower, retreating from regular life while her law degree collects dust. And even though Dick gets sad whenever he see her, and Barbara feels guilty and helplessly furious, he never says anything. The two of them dance around in silent conversations–I love you, I know, I’m sorry–that start all over again the next time they see each other. As if Cass can’t tell.

“Cass! So good to see you.” Barbara smiles and wheels herself over to the window when Cass drops in unannounced. She’s in pain.

Cass is not a vigilante but she was trained to kill them. When she takes to the rooftops of Gotham, she wears a nondescript black mask. She shucks this mask off now so that Barbara can see her face and plods over to her dearest friend and surrogate mother. Steph tells her the term is “mom friend” and not to get weird about it, but Cass believes she’s well beyond the point of being considered weird. 

“Jason,” Cass announces. 

She leans down awkwardly to hug Barbara, so she misses everything that is said in response. By the time she straightens, Barbara’s face worries, deep emotional lines of someone whose loved ones spend 80% of their time in mortal peril, and her body twitches backwards, itching for the long row of computers and tech equipment on the far wall. Barbara is concerned about Jason, but she believes the trouble lies in whatever Jason’s doing right now. That she’ll know what to do with just a little cyberstalking. But Cass’s concern is more long-term than that. 

“Is there something wrong with Jason?” Barbara’s cadence indicates that this is not the first time she’s spoken. Oops. Cass missed her out-loud words because she was so busy paying attention to what Barbara was actually saying.

Cass points at the computers. She doesn’t know how to explain it with words.

Barbara takes the hint and wheels back over to her computer lab, where she pulls up all the surveillance footage she can of Jason’s usual haunts until she finds him disappearing up the fire escape of an old brick apartment building in the very edge of Burnley. Any further south and he’ll be in Gotham’s Upper East Side, and Jason can’t stand that neighborhood. 

As Robin, Jason had to be bullied into the Diamond District and the Upper West Side, but Bruce dragged him into Chinatown to practice his Cantonese and Jason went to Old Gotham willingly for the vibe. A lot of gargoyles, Cass has been told. Worn bricks, gothic spires, flying buttresses, and properly intimidating gargoyles for brooding. There is so much that Cass knows about Jason from other people. The reverse cannot be said, because Jason doesn’t really talk to them anymore. 

Barbara boots up a drone from the Bat-hideout closest to Jason’s apartment and flies it over. It’s a lovely little three-room apartment on the third floor of an old brick apartment building. One bedroom and one bathroom, which Barbara does not attempt to enter, and a kitchen/living room area. All the furniture in the living room looks new. A comfy armchair, two bookcases overflowing with newly-purchased novels, shiny new wood cabinets and a marble finish to the kitchen island. Three wooden stools, two of them as sturdy as the day they were bought. 

Remotely, she and Cass peer through the window as Jason makes his guns disappear before he reaches his kitchen island. Stripped down to a form-fitting black shirt and brown pants, Jason washes his hands, preheats the oven, and sets about making lemon and herb salmon.

“This looks pretty normal to me,” says Barbara.

Jason slides into one of the wooden stools around his marble kitchen island counter. He drums his fingers on the marble. He checks the time on his phone. The salmon, now covered in garlic, thyme, and rosemary and such, is still baking in the oven. 

“He’s just making himself dinner,” Barbara observes. She won’t call Cass a liar, but this isn’t worthy of the label “trouble.” 

She doesn’t see it. Cass is at a loss. If Barbara cannot see what is in front of her eyes, how can Cass possibly explain it? 

“Look,” Cass insists. 

After checking the time on his phone again, Jason gets up and paces. At over six feet tall, he makes his cozy apartment seems small. He picks a book out of his shelf, seemingly at random. He examines the cover. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. He puts the book back and resumes pacing the perimeter of his small home. 

Barbara sighs. “I don’t understand.”

She wants Cass to be able to just spit it out, but won’t say so because she knows Cass cannot. They’ve reached a stalemate. 

Here is what Cass cannot articulate: Jason Todd is lonely. Loneliness is built into Jason’s bones. It gathers in his bed at night like a soldier returning from war. It lashes at the confines of his self-imposed cage. When the loneliness threatens to break him, it explodes in the form of rage at anyone who dares to be near him. Ah, but what a liar that rage makes of him. Claiming he loves nothing and no one when all Jason has ever done is love. Raging against the state of his beloved city, fury at the father he will not forgive, and hate–blackened love–for those he once called family. A cruel, self-perpetuated cycle. The lonely drives him to rage which in self-delusion to hide his shame he lies about until everyone learns to stay away. Thus creating more loneliness for Jason to feast in until he inevitably withers away from eating nothing but emptiness. 

And Cass fears she is the only one who sees it. But Jason is a fool for thinking no one else understands. Is Cass not the unwanted daughter of a world-class assassin and the wanted weapon of a monster? Her first months in Gotham she did nothing but drive people away because she didn’t know any better. The only reason she has good people around her now is because there is something so irrefutably good about the Bats. Barbara never withdrew her hand even when Cass bit her literally and metaphorically. Bruce took her in without a second thought for her background. Tim tries his hardest to be a good brother to her even when he’s hurting. Steph and Dick didn’t blink twice at the half-feral, non-verbal, former assassin addition to their family. They bring their good cheer out for Cass even when she can tell it’s fake, and she can always tell. 

So why does Jason, who is hurting and so lonely that it hurts Cass to look at him, insist on pushing them away? 

[that-fic-girl]

Montgomery gator x AFAB reader || NSFW ||

Note: More romance than smut, wanna give y’all them belly butterflies and I believe Monty isn’t a crazy aggressive sex driven maniac. LET ME HAVE MY MOMENT.

It was getting late in the pizza plex as you walked aimlessly around the halls of rockstar row, your phone had died and there was no way you was going home after such an eventful night of dancing and singing with your friends. However, you lost all of your mates in the roaring crowd of drunken adults and screaming people.

It was the 3rd anniversary of the Freddy fazbears pizza plex so there was huge party thrown for adults held by the founder of the pizzaplex.

Your legs and feet ached and your hair was ruffled up, you tried to find the bathroom to freshen yourself up but ended up wandering to the opening of Monty’s gator golf. You’ve never been inside never mind played golf so you decided to enter the smoky green lit entrance.

Most of the visitors had left and there was only a handful left so there was pretty much no one in the area, you decided to take your sore ass in.

You scanned the walls of the golf centre, the green light shimmered brightly, making your headache lightly worse and the smoke gathered around the man made lakes smelled just like what you assumed a bayou would smell like, it filled your brain with ecstasy.

As you was walking you noticed a woman’s sign for the bathroom, your eyes lit up as you started to walk slightly faster until you felt something on your shoulder, you turned around to see a huge figure towering over you. You blinked trying to refresh your eyes to help you see the mysterious gigantic person behind you. You recognised them almost immediately.

“Hello little darlin’, what do you think you’re doing around these parts?”

His voice boomed throughout the centre, you trembled under his touch.

“I-I was lost… I was trying to find the bathroom but stumbled here”

He slumped down to your size and gave you a almost sympathetic look.

“Aww I’m sorry sweet thing, want to come with me? That bathroom is out of order”

You felt so small in his presence, his figure making you feel as if he could crush you at any moment. Despite you not even needing the bathroom, you obliged anyway.

You and Monty talked whilst walking through the halls, mainly about your every day life and what it’s like being a glamrock.

“Hahaaa! You’re funny darlin’. How come I haven’t seen you around the plex before?”

You smiled and replied,

“This was my only day off work and I’ve never really found the time to come here, but I’m glad you did”

Both of you smiled at eachother, then stared.

“You know, you’re quite beautiful. I’m glad I caught you before you left.”

You blushed at the sentiment. Smiling you put a hand on his arm.

“Aren’t you a cutie! Thank you mr gator!”

He chuckled at the name, putting a hand on your lower back. He turned to you and smirked.

“Why don’t we go to my room instead? I’m sure we can have a lot of fun together”

You smiled and nodded, taking his hand and changing direction to his room.

The walk back was physically silent but the silence was telling. The way he smiled and stared at you made you feel so fuzzy in his presence. Your smile comforted him.

You entered his room, kicking some of his trashed out merch that seems to be have thrown out of your way. He guided you to the torn couch and bent down infront of you, slowly taking off your heels.

“Now, doesn’t that feel better?”

He massaged your feet, his fingers leading up to your ankle and to your calf. You blushed, feeling your stomach tighten and your breath hitch with an overwhelming feeling you kicked his hand of gently.

“You’re such a flirt, mr gator”

“Isn’t that a good thing? I can’t resist you darlin’. You’re gorgeous AND funny”

His hand slightly spreaded your legs wandering up the hem of your slim fitted dress.

Your head filled with clouds, is this really happening? Are you actually flirting with a ROBOT? He acts like a human so at least there’s a little humanity in this.

“Mmm… that’s it beautiful, keep grinding against my finger like that”

You left you dream land fantasy and darted your eyes down, you where so intoxicated by your ecstasy that you hadn’t realised you had been mindlessly grinding on and off of his hand the whole time.

You covered your face with your hands, embarrassed.

“Aww darlin’, don’t cover that pretty face up. I want to see how you react”

He smirked, his eyes glimmering in the darkness. It was dim but you could still see the lust in his eyes. Your stomach felt as if it was on fire. He rubbed you faster through your underwear as you swore under your breath and let out a few uncontrolled moans.

He moved his hand away, making your hips buck up to him, missing the sensation he was giving you. His hands slid your waist and pushed you down keeping you still.

“Cmon, I need you all nice and soaked for me before I give you it.”

You gave him a nervous look. You haven’t actually thought this through and this guy is HUGE. your breath hitched.

“You DO want it? Right darlin’?”

He shot you a concerned glance.

“y-yes YES ofcourse I do, just a little nervous. I don’t ecactly do this all the time you know.. haha..”

You chuckled nervously.

“You have nothing to worry about beautiful, I’m going to be gently I promise.”

He made you feel comfortable and warm.

He placed you horizontally on his couch, scooting over in front of your legs. He pulled them up, stretching next to eachother and leaning against his shoulders. He slowly pulled up your dress and pulled down your underwear, his breath hitching at the sight he was seeing.

“My, you are beautiful darlin’”

He opened your legs, moving his fingers down to rub your slit. He slowly lifted his hands to his crotch and pulled out his cock. You gulped at the sight.

Shifting more towards you he pushed the tip to your entrance.

“Hold on to my hand darlin’, this will hurt a bit”

He pushed inside of you, slowly and painfully. You whinced and squeezed his finger. He moved his hand to your cheek and gave you an almost apologetic look.

After a few minutes of pushing in and getting you comfortable he started to move in and out. The pain was riden out by pleasure and the overwhelming ecstasy he gave you.

He moaned and huffed in pleasure as he pounded into you. Something about the way he looked at you made your stomach tense up nervously but in a good way.

You grabbed onto his shoulders as his lifted your legs to spread them wider, hitting your good spot perfectly.

“A-ah! That’s it! Mmm.. it feels so good” you moaned, looking into his eyes.

You could tell he was at the edge due to the amount of “good girl”’s and breathy moans he let out. After a few more pumps you arched your back as you let yourself loose.

“Ahaha! That’s it darlin! Let go for me, feel good for me!”

He held onto you as he came, kissing your colorbone. It felt amazing.

His hands moved down to your legs as he got up.

“Gosh you are even more beautiful after you cum darlin’”

You giggled, pulling him down to give him a kiss. He stared into your eyes and couldn’t help but love the way your face looked lust drunk and dazed.

He pulled off your dress, trying to make you more comfortable and pulled the blanket over you. He put your phone on charge and brought you some water.

“Aww Monty, you didn’t have to do that.”

Kissing your forehead his placed the water next to the couch.

“You need it baby, you did so well for me and I don’t want you to go sleep dehydrated”

You smiled and held his cheek, drifting off to sleep.

THE END.

Hope you enjoyed my comeback. Did all of this sat next to my friend whilst she told me about internet scandals.

[blueberrybladelemonade]

Carnival Daze

You and Peppino go to the carnival that's in town! Fluff and fun ensues.

Contains: Not the most "fair" way to win a game, Fluff, Toy gun use, Eating overpriced and unhealthy snacks

A cacophony of sounds filled your ears as you drew nearer to your destination. Various people could be heard laughing and chatting. In the distance you could hear screaming. 

A buttery and sweet aroma surrounded and hung in the air as you waited in line. You feel your arm being tugged -pulling you out of your daze- as Peppino motioned you forward. You offer a small smile to the woman running the booth and pull out a sizable stack of bills to trade for tickets. 

"Are we really-a going to use all of those?" Peppino quirks an eyebrow at you as you both make your way into the carnival. You shrug, "Probably. You know how overpriced these places are".

"Mio dio Y/N, you still didn't need to spend that much though".

You weave your fingers with his as you walk. "Oh stop worrying Pino, we're here to have fun". Your eyes dart over to a stand filled with kettle corn. "And eat." You add on, already walking towards the stall. 

You hand the bag of kettle corn to Peppino, who immediately tears into the bag, as you shove a ticket back into your pocket. You follow suit with your free hand. A perfect combination of salty and sweet filling your mouth. 

You wander aimlessly at first, deciding to stop if something catches your attention. You grimace as more shrieking fills your ears, albeit much louder. As your eyes dart about your surroundings you notice the tall tower to your right. 

You crane your neck to the top of the ride, the people above seated and locked in place. Without warning the seats lurched, dropping at breakneck speed. Screams filled the air with the mad descent to the ground. Then there was silence as fast as it began. 

"Nope." Peppino utters and you sense him leave your side. As you glance over you see his back to you, hurrying off and away from the drop tower. 

"Hey Pepp-"

"Nope!" He cuts you off, not even casting a glance back. You chuckle to yourself, rushing to catch up with him. You huff, "What? You don't like feeling like you're going hit the ground and turn into paste"? 

"I'ma fragile old-a man. Do you want-a me to break"? 

You gasp and poke at Peppino, before you can argue further you hear a bell. Peppino huffs in protest as you suddenly yank him along, again. As you stop in front of the booth, he tilts his head up to read the text. 

Strength test.

"You should be good at this one!" You point to the hammer, gesturing Peppino to grab it. 

"These are rigged, you know-a that, right?" Regardless he picks it up. You watch as the ball shoots half of the way upwards, Peppino gives you a smug grin.  

"Fragile and old, huh?" You tease as he sets down the hammer. Instead of leaving, an idea forms in your head, turning back to the stall.

 "Bet I can hit the bell." you grin.

Peppino scoffs at you, "If you can do that-a you can have free pizza for a month".

"With a drink"? 

"Sure. With a drink." He nods, stepping to the side to give you space. 

As you take the hammer from him, you shoot Peppino a smile, and step up to the machine. "Deal"!

You close your eyes and draw in a slow, steadying breath. In an instant your eyes snap open and you spring upwards. A sharp ding echos within the stall as your hammer taps the bell.

"Beat ya!" You cheer to yourself and clap your hands together 

Peppino's eyelids drooped, shooting you a dubious stare. "Mio dios Y/N, you cheat".

"Hey, brains over brawn!" You retort, setting the hammer down and clapping a hand onto Peppino's shoulder. 

You jump as a voice pops from behind the stall and strides out. "Congratulations! Are you our outstandingly strong man that hit the bell"? 

Before Peppino could open his mouth to reply you let out a short cheer and nodded enthusiastically. "He sure is"!

"Wonderful! Sir if you'll come with me to pick your prize"! 

Peppino snatches your wrist, dragging you with him. As you duck into the small tent a selection of various prizes line the wall with the top row indicating the grand prizes.

With a sweep of his hand, the stall owner waits for Peppino to pick. He turns to you, "What would you like cara?"

You hum thoughtfully before your eyes settle on a green and white bunny. "That one!" You point to the stuffed toy, Peppino nods at the man whom returns his nod and reaches for the toy. 

You smile as Peppino hands it to you, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you". 

As you exit the tent you bump him with your hip. "I'll be sure to stop by every day for my free pizza"! You wink, linking your arm with his as you lead him to a new destination. Peppino grumbles something unintelligible and rolls his eyes. 

You didn't intend to hold Peppino to his deal. In fact, if he even tried to say that your pizza was free you were simply going to dump more money into his tip jar. 

When he wasn't looking anyways. 

Before you started sneaking money into the tip jar, Peppino would catch and snap at you to not do that. You just did it when he wasn't watching now. 

You catch a whiff of something indistinct, as if it's blended with others. As you note the small clearing filled with a few food stalls and benches, something savory peppered the air. A gust of wind made the flags and tents flap overhead. The smell grew stronger as you approached the furthest station. Your eyes locked onto the crispy mass being pulled from a fryer, mouth watering at the sight. As you come to a halt you turn to Peppino, "I need an onion blossom." You pause in thought, watching another mass get dunked into the grease. "Make that two". 

Peppino laughs and follows you close behind as you make a beeline to the stall. "Two onion blossoms!" You hand over the tickets and in another moment receive your snack. 

As Peppino takes one of the plates you let out a hum and opt for the closest bench. You plop down, Peppino following suit across from you. The fried mass shone in a thin sheet of oil. You grab a napkin and set it next to you before plucking a particularly juicy petal. As you pop the piece into your mouth the flavors explode your senses. With a crisp crunch, a blend of spice and pepper dance along your tongue. Peppino slowly picks at his, watching as you devour the blossom, alternating between dipping pieces in the sauce and without. 

By the time you had demolished yours, half of Peppino's still remained. His gaze met yours and smiled, pushing his plate to you. Without hesitation you grab a piece, thanking him through another bite. Peppino rests his head in his hand as he watches you with a dreamy expression. 

* * * * * 

"Of course I can, I know how to use a gun." Peppino replies, aiming at the target.

You flinch with each pop of the toy gun, the "ammo" bouncing from the bottles and into your face. The gun clicked but nothing came out. Not a single bottle had toppled over. Peppino blinked and slowly turned to you with a sheepish grin. He pursed his lips and extended his hand to your face. Peppino's thumb gently brushing at the small red spots that had formed. A small chuckle escapes your lips and you shake your head. 

"Masterful play, my liege".

Peppino squints at you, "Let'sa see you do it then". It's not like you'd be able to cheat your way through this one. 

Your only response is a grin. Peppino watches with a raised eyebrow as you hand over more tickets and return with another gun. 

A loud clink is heard, followed by another before the glass bottles topple over. You smile brightly at Peppino as his mouth hung open. "You gotta know where to hit them, like right..." Another pop followed by more glassware falling, "There"!

"Wanna try again"?

"Sure amore". Peppino rubbed the back of his neck, watching as you pick out a prize. The bottles were stacked again and he took the gun you handed him. Peppino took in a breath and steadied his hand, taking aim where you had hit previously. 

You clap as the bottles fall over. "See? Nice"! 

As Peppino returns he hands you the prize he picked out. You open the bag you had been carrying and set the keychain inside. You look up to the sky. Vibrant blue and pink hues were peaking through the clouds. At night the entire carnival would shine with neon lights below and the sunset from up there would be a marvelous view. 

"Lets go into that fun house." You nod over into the distance. "By the time we're done there, it should be dark enough to get on the ferris wheel".

You return the remaining tickets to your bag, just enough were left. As you enter into a dimly lit room you stretch out a hand to touch the wall. The dark narrow hallway had you fumbling as you round another corner. You heard Peppino sigh faintly from behind as he followed the sound of your steps. As you make your way through a door and duck down you rub your eyes at the bright light. 

"Pep...pino?" You turn around, only to be met by your own reflection. Shit. He turned down a different path. 

"Y/N?" You hear his voice nearby. "Stay there! Just let me follow your voice". You bump into another reflection that looked like a hallway.

"Oh thank fuck." You sigh in relief. "Here, let me hold your han- oh. That’s a mirror." You pat along the wall feeling for an empty gap.

"Where's the real you?!" A gasp escapes your lips as you bump directly into Peppino. "Oh there you are". 

As you both make your way out of the fun house dozens of bright lights had turned on, illuminating the park. It was as if it had transformed into a different place altogether. In the horizon the ferris wheel flashed in pink, yellows, and blues. 

Halfway towards your destination a large drop of water hit your face. Then subsequently a dozen more. 

The rain all starts to come down at once, causing you both to retreat into the nearest tent. Peppino's eyes meet yours, water beading and dropping from his face. He gives you an apologetic look as you look back outside. Ah shit. Well, there goes your plans. You let out a disappointed sigh, feeling Peppino tug you closer to his side. As you turn back to him you give a small smile. His face had slightly flushed with the sudden chill. At least you got to spend the entire day with him and had fun. There was always next time. 

You reach your hand into your bag, popping a piece of leftover kettle corn into your mouth. As you chew, you make a face. It was no longer crisp and the flavor was just a little too sweet. 

"Do you still have those tickets?" Peppino asks. You nod, pulling them out. "Yeah"?

"Wait here". Peppino takes them from you and you watch as he disappears through the huddled crowd of people. As you wait you rummage through your prizes. You look through your small hoard; three stuffed animals, a coaster with a red and black creature holding a teacup, a keychain with what looked like various pizza toppings, and another keychain of a dinosaur with a large sail on it's back. Amongst a countless knick knacks and treats. 

"Here, amore." As you look up you're greeted with a candy apple. You thank him and take the sweet. Before you can take a bite, Peppino ducked down, placing a kiss to your lips. You smile against him and sigh as he pulls away.

"When you're finished with that..." Peppino looks out towards the rain, showing no signs of slowing. "How soaked do you think we'll get by the time we get to the car"?

[scavengerssuccotash]

Okay an ask: how are Nat and Clint when they’re drinking? Do they drink at all? Are either of them karaoke prone afterwards?

Depends on the company! And yes, they both drink. Sometimes as a coping mechanism for the shit they go through but most of the time as a way to relax in their down time.

If they are alone with just themselves with a bottle of top shelf vodka or whiskey between them they are SHAMELESS flirts. Truly a spectacular made of terrible one liners and raunchy jokes and sloppy wet kissing. Clint’s the one prone for belching out into song, Nat can count on both hands of how many times Clint’s just started drunkenly singing into her ear. She’ll giggle and slap his shoulder while remarking how horrible his singing voice is (it’s not, she’s just a brat. She secretly loves it!) Overall they are affectionate, funny and often find themselves slumped against each other on floor giggling.

If they have company, namely the Avengers, it’s a P-A-R-T-Y!

Many a times has Thor spiked the punch with something extra from Asgard. Clint once awoke in a bed (not his) without his pants, wet and strangely smelling of pickle juice. Which in hindsight was an atrocious combination for the nausea and hangover that soon followed. Nat on the other hand found herself in the living room cuddling a shirtless Pepper with a half eaten burrito nestled between them. To this day neither knows who ordered the burrito but Nat swears up and down it was placed there for blackmail purposes. (Her bet is on Tony, Pepper thinks it was Clint) The resulting photos of this wild party nearly ended up on TMZ’s desk, but was thankfully apprehended by Steve thus saving the them from a possible PR nightmare.

Since this fateful night both Steve and Clint guard the punchbowl from Thor and Jarvis cuts outside communication for a proverbial cone of silence around Avenger’s Tower. All food delivery requests are submitted ahead of time and submitted by Jarvis. The local pizza delivery guy Thomas Heckum is a personal favorite and has some really wild stories to tell, but of course he’s paid for silence.

(This was so fun to imagine I might actually have to fic this! 😂)

Thanks so much for asking babes! 🍪🍪

As PS for you: Once Bucky joins the team a spun bottle ended the night with a hot and heavy make out between Clint and Bucky, Nat was extremely surprised and a bit flustered. 😉 That one was just for you.

Oh and Bruce ended up on the roof without pants screaming “I’m King Kong bitches!”

Clint took a video and he teases him about it to this day!

[raynwithouttheboe]

Might make a Pizza Tower AU-

It's called Screaming Silence, lmk if y'all wanna hear ab it cause I'm really proud of it :)

Might also make an ask blog for it-

[patches-bitsandbobs]

started: 18/3/2023 - who was this weirdly familiar guy, and why was he telling him Noise’s battle strategies?

Peppino hated going anywhere. Gustavo loved going to the pub on the weekends. Peppino didn't have any money. Gustavo had enough money to buy them four sets of rounds. Gustavo likes alcohol. Peppino also likes alcohol. Gustavo thinks Peppino should get out more. Peppino thinks he’s better off staying inside, watching the telly.

begrudgingly, after much pestering and begging and asking, Peppino relented, and he and Gustavo headed out to the Shrimps Sipper as soon as the weekend rolled around. Brick stayed behind, offering to house sit for them, to the dismay of Peppino (Brick wanted to eat cheese).

it wasn't comfortable, considering it was half packed with former residents of the tower. Fork Knights, Pizza Slicers, Snowmen, Shrimp Thugs, and Golf Demons were among the few scattered here and there, drinking and talking to one another, thankfully not looking in their direction. Peppino very much wanted to keep it that way, so with half frantic taps on Gustavo's arm, he directed the other to a lone table, secluded in the corner. Gustavo, as bright and chipper as ever, followed along. they sat down, Peppino stuffing himself in the shadow of the corner, while Gustavo patted his shoulder with a warm smile, asking Peppino what he would like to drink.

Peppino told him his order, Gustavo left for the bar, and Peppino was alone. he shifted his eyes here and there, beads of sweat beginning to form on his face, as he darted between each Shrimp that laughed too loudly, or each Demon that raised their voice just a touch too high, or each Fork Knight that slammed their fork against the table (and really, why did they bring their fork to a pub?). the volume of the occupants, the smell of mixed cocktails, the largeness of the room; it wasn't doing his head nor his anxiety any favours. he very quickly found that he wanted to leave.

'well hey there Mr Italian man!' a squeaky voice spoke directly from his right, and he screamed his signature scream, swinging his arm out. there was a yelp as his arm wooshed through empty air. he felt like he was about to pass out. 'geez, I didn't mean to scare ya like that!!!' he turned his head to look at the stranger, and saw someone with a too wide grin and too small eyes looking back at him. a messy tuft of black hair, a suit that was way too large for his small form, a face full of freckles.

he had no idea who this guy was.

with a huff of laughter, the stranger slid into the seat across from him, a Martini glass in hand. still reeling from the sudden adrenaline rush, Peppino glared him down, alternating between wanting to fling himself across the table at him, or bolt clear from the building.

'I ain't used to seein' you out and about like this! what's the occasion, eh?' the man sipped his drink with a massive smile, looking him dead in the eye, not caring that Peppino was steaming with fear and rage. taking a deep breath, Peppino tried to ease the tension from his highly hunched shoulders.

'I was, uh. invited, I, I'm sorry, who are you?' the longer Peppino stared, the more confused he grew. this man wasn't from the tower was he? he didn't recall seeing him anywhere; so why did he seem to know Peppino? the mans face alternated between shocked, insulted, and confused, before settling on pure elation, his teeth going sharp and devilish. it only made Peppino more anxious than he already was.

'my names James! I saw some of your ads for ya pizza place, but I didn't know I'd meet you in a place like this!' he racked his brain and still came up empty, because this man had never visited his parlour, either.

'oh. 'kay.' Peppino slowly said.

'yep!' the man replied.

the quiet chatter and soft clinks of the bar filled in their awkward silence. Peppino wrung his hands together under the table, while the man knocked the miniature umbrella about. he wondered what was taking Gustavo so long. without knowing it, the stranger saved him from sinking into his man-made hysteria of being abandoned at the pub.

'say, are you familiar with that Noise guy?' the mere mention of the name had Peppino recoil with a violent sneer. it made the man laugh. 'I figured you were! well, what if I told ya that I know some’a his battle plans?' Peppino raised a brow at him, and the stranger leaned in. 'swear down I do! I think it could be worth ya while!' Peppino visibly thought about it. it didn't take him long to settle on his answer.

'I'm listening.' ------------ Peppino and "James" bumped into each other a week later, where a slumped, obviously upset Peppino sat alone, in the same place they had first met. Gustavo, once again, was occupied at the bar's counter, happily chatting to the shrimp that was serving other occupants their drinks. Peppino seemed to sense "James" this time, turning an eye to face the grinning man, who easily slid into the seat across from him. he didn't have a glass with him this time, and was wearing the same brand of suit as before, only this time, it was an obnoxious purple rather than an ugly yellow.

'hey there Italian man!'

'hello, James.'

'how'd ya fight with ol' Noisey go?'

'how'd you know we got in a fight?' a bout of nervousness crossed "James'" face that was waved off within the same second.

'phaaa, everyone knows that you fight that guy at least once a week. it's common knowledge here!' Peppino frowned, thought it over, did a slight shrug and a small hum. 'so er, I'm takin' it you lost? you've got a face like a slapped arse.'

'it's like he knew exactly what I was gonna do!' Peppino immediately vented. 'he read me like a god damn book the entire time!'

'ooh, bummer. you should try getting somewhere high up next time; I hear that his balloon has a hard time getting good heights.'

'how do you know so much about him?'

'you could say that I have a kind of rivalry with him, too.' Peppino's eye gained a shine.

'we should team up then!' to which "James" laughed him off.

'nah, my rivalry ain't quite the same as yours. ours is more for fun, y'know?'

Peppino deflated onto the table. "James" leaned over and lightly patted his shoulder. ---------------------- Peppino was drunk. he wasn't drunk, he was absolutely blasted. his vision swam, his body felt akin to jelly, his brain was mush and his thoughts were scrambled. sounds and smells slurred together into a haze of nothing, a thick warmness coursing through his chest and spreading through his limbs that made the rest of him sluggish and tired. was he laid out on the table, or sat up? was he staring at the wood of the table, or at his own brown trousers? was his glass half empty, or full? how much had he even had to drink? he tried to focus on how many glasses there were, but found that he couldn't focus on a single one.

'uh, Peppino?' ooh, he knew that voice, that was James! he liked James. he was nice. weird, and somehow really familiar, but nice. not Gustavo nice, who was being nice for the sake of being polite, and not Vigilante nice, where it was obviously faked for the sake of being civil. no, James was just. nice. nice to talk to, nice to sit with, nice to be around. 'geez, are you alri-'

'Jaaaaames' Peppino blindly reached out, hands landing on the course material of James' suit. in a brash display of affection he would never ever do while sober, he curled his arms around James and pulled him in, giggling the entire time. James, stunned by the sudden motion, had no choice but to allow himself be tugged down into Peppino's personal space, where he practically fell into Peppino's lap. Peppino sunk into him, head lolling on James’ shoulder, hands bunched at his back.

'cheesus crust Peppino, how much have you had?'

'liiiiiiiiiike, two.'

'two what?? gallons??' Peppino laughed, bright and loud. he stunk to high heaven of beer. James, desperately, reached into his pocket for his phone. the only way he could use it was to return Peppino's drunken hug, and the gesture made Peppino hum with satisfaction.

SUPATERSTAR95: help

CoffeeRabbit: =O!!! whats wrong??!?!

SUPERSTAR95: i lied to pepino he think im some1 else he drunk as fuck

CoffeeRabbit: what the fuck teddy y wud u lie!!!!! >=(

SUPERSTAR95: it was funny =( how do i tel him

CoffeeRabbit: ur on ur own!!!

SUPERSTAR95: babe plssssss he wont let go of me and i dont want 2 fite in middle of pub

CoffeeRabbit: ON UR OWN!!!!!!!

he sighed. Peppino still held him in his iron grip. he awkwardly put his phone away, and timidly put his hands on Peppino’s back, like the act itself would burn him.

'uh, listen, Peppino,'

'hmm mmmmmmmmmmm'

'I'm not. I ain't. my name isn't James, it's uh. ...’ god, it had been such a good idea at the time. why did the Italian have to go and get drunk? that ruined everything. ‘I'm Noise.'

'huh.'

'yeah, I uh. it was a prank. like it wasn't- I didn't mean for it to be a prank, but I figured it'd be funny to. y'know.' ever so slowly, Peppino pulled the Noise away, holding him out at arms length. he squinted at Noise, trying really hard to see, before his mouth opened in an "O" shape. wobbly hands cupped the Noise's face, tilting him this and that a-way, before lightly slapping one cheek and re-wrapping his arms around the Noise, pulling him back in for a hug. the Noise would have fled then and there, if not for that series of actions. why the fuck did Peppino have to be a cuddly drunk?

'I kneeeeeeeeeew you looked familar. that’s how ya knew my every move too!'

'... I uh. I figured that you'd be. ... mad.'

'oh I am. I'm so fucking mad at you Noise. I'm so fucking angry at you. you are so lucky that I'm drunk.' oh he had sounded stone sober saying that. he's gonna kick my arse flat.

they stay like that for a few more minutes; Peppino holding Noise, Noise awkwardly balancing himself atop Peppino. his face felt on-fire, and his legs were starting to get numb.

'how long've you been here anyway? I can take you home as an. ...’ he grit his teeth. ‘... apology.' the word was almost spit from Noise's mouth, and Peppino giggled again, all hints of his soberness disappearing.

'les' go grab Gus and go home.'

Noise helped Peppino to his feet, where Peppino slung a heavy arm across Noise's shoulders, leaning his entire weight onto him (on purpose, Noise couldn’t help but notice), and together, the two shambled to the bars counter, where a half asleep Gustavo was sprawled.

'GUS.'

'ooooh hello Peppiiiiii.' Gustavo turned around, his moustache lined with beer foam. he lazily looked between Peppino and Noise, and his grin only seemed to grow wider. 'hello Noiseeeeee.'

'what- how'd'cha know it's him????' Peppino blanked.

'you're just an idiot, Italian.'

'you look WEIRD without your costume.'

‘and it’s weird seeing you drunk, now come on, I ain’t got all day.’

----

here’s what happens - I write something, I make it WAY too long, and then I don’t know how to rightly finish it. anyway my headcanon is that Peppino genuinely doesn’t recognize Noise outside of his costume; Noise isn’t being malicious per say, he just didn’t figure that Peppino would be so touchy feely, so he feels immediently bad when he realises how much Peppino considers his fake persona as a friend

yeeaaaaaow

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Last Life session 4 out of context

transcript below the cut:

Mumbo, distantly: I love your back. Grian: *giggles* Impulse: That was an odd thing to come in to.

...

Skizz: THERE. That bone in the hand right THERE.

...

Etho, ominously: You're all alone now, Jimmy. You're all alone now! Jimmy, overlapping: Oh NOOOO! NO! NO! NOO! Etho: Ohh, you got split up from the group! Jimmy: *screaming*

...

Martyn, reading a chat message: "We need to"- ohhhhhhh no...

...

Mumbo: AWWH! Scott: You're ours now, Mumbo.

...

Lizzie: I can frolic in the fairy fort freely knowing that I am not a murderer.

...

Skizz: I only have two hands but somehow three of them are on my face right now.

...

Lizzie: BOO! Grian: *screams*

...

Joel: None of that, just sadness. That's all.

...

Scott: *smacks Mumbo and Jimmy with a sword*

...

Bdubs: Kevin Maga-doogan Meaty- Meaty- Happyshine. Skizz: *laughs* Maga-doogan? Tango: Happyshine? Etho, overlapping: Refrig- Refrigerator's in there somewhere.

...

Martyn: *zooms in on Mumbo's face with the spyglass*

...

Scott: IMPULSE, get back up here! Impulse: I got lost!

...

Scar: I will be right back with your resources. Etho: HEY TANGO!

...

Scar: I'm currently building a Pizza Hut, so come by and enjoy some pizza later on. Mumbo: No. No, Scar. No, I'm not gonna do that.

...

Skizz: I-I would but I forgot how to spell.

...

Grian, looking at his dogs as a new one is born: Ba-ding! AWWWWW!

...

Pearl: I will shoot this bow and arrow. Mumbo: I reckon you'd miss. I reckon you'd miss. *Mumbo gets shot instantly*

...

Etho, to Bdubs: I- I have- faaiiiith in you...?

...

Martyn, looking at Scott on fire: OHH that's awkward!

...

Impulse: This one's definitely gonna drop an ender pearl. I feel it. *enderman dies, dropping nothing* Mumbo: WHAT?! Impulse, overlapping: It didn't...

...

Tango: Don't blow up! *creeper blows up* Tango: Nevermind.

...

Etho, getting jumpscared by a wither skeleton: OH MY GOODNESS!

...

Lizzie: There's something in your... face. *pause* Ren: Yes.

...

Skizz: How are you alive? Tango: Well I fled in terror with extra flee.

...

*Grian zooms in on his eyes very very closely*

...

Martyn: Oh my word... Scott: *sneaks very slowly towards him* Scott: I'm just trying to have a nice time.

...

Impulse, to Etho: I mean... you did try to tell everybody I was a murderer last week, so...

...

Mumbo: Is there anything that I can do to stop you? Joel: Mmmm... you probably could, but too late now. Goodbye!

...

Grian, struggling with the gate: G- Gimme a sec. Gimme a sec. It's giving me a hard time. Martyn, laughing: Oh no.

...

Lizzie, in a funny voice: "EMMAAAAAAAAA. THE CONDENSATION!"

...

Mumbo, rapidly crouching and uncrouching: I mean, I'm the boogie-man!

...

Scott: We are here and- *spots Pearl watching him with a spyglass* I am being watched.

...

Tango: Your front door sucks! Skizz: It really does.

...

Martyn, very close to the mic: Wooord.

...

Ren: I'm gonna go into my tower now and... cry.

...

Mumbo: If I fall and die, this is going to be hugely disappointing.

...

Martyn, to Jimmy: How are you by yourself on a tree in the middle of nowhere?

...

Tango: *singing delightedly as he zooms around on soul sand with soul speed*

...

Mumbo: If we go really high, then d'you reckon-? Impulse: -we could fall to our deaths? Yeah?

...

Pearl, singing: Makin' my way downtown. Scott, singing: Swimmin' fast. Faces pass and I'm homebound. *loudly hums the tune*

...

Martyn: You aspire to have a peg-leg?! Etho: OH absolutely.

...

Joel: Don't worry about it. Mumbo: I am slightly worrying about it.

...

Skizz: Everybody likes a Double-Down/Skizz combo, let's do it.

...

Grian: *giggling* Mumbo, overlapping: Are you laughing at how stupid I look again?

...

Jimmy: IT WAS THE ONLY TREE!

...

Scott: It would be a shame if you were to die for whatever reason, Skizz- no, I'm joking.

...

Etho: *shows Tango a hidden brewing stand in complete silence* Tango, unenthusiastically: Oh, perfect. Fantastic. Okay.

...

Impulse, looking at a 2-wide gap in a wall: I don't know if I can get through this, Mumbo. Mumbo: Yeah, be very wary about that.

...

Grian: *singing "oogie boogie" ominously from somewhere around Martyn, getting louder and louder as he sneaks up on Martyn and startles him* Martyn: *screams*

...

*Skizz and Tango scream delightedly as they run around the soul sand with soul speed*

...

Grian: You're on my list. Bdubs: *noises of worried protest*

...

Joel: Why are you home, Mumbo? That is very annoying. Mumbo: *laughs* Joel: Why are you always home, Mumbo? D'you not go out? D'you have no social life? What is WRONG with you?

...

Lizzie: What happened here?! Cleo: Your husband happened here. And a creeper, but mostly your husband.

...

Jimmy, yelling: We've got your minecarts, we've got your TNT! And you know what, Joel?! *long pause* Jimmy: He's gone.

...

Grian, yeeting himself off a high place: YEET! *grabs the ladder* Mumbo: WAAAAH! GRI-!

...

Mumbo, laughing: It's wrong! But it works!

...

Etho: *spooky voice* I am the boo- wait, what? *Martyn and Jimmy laugh*

...

Mumbo: Is this a good time to mention that I hold shift with my thumb?

...

Tango: I made an accident. Lizzie: How do you make an accident this big?

...

*Mumbo uses the spyglass to watch Grian very slowly descend down a ladder*

...

Grian: What have I just stumbled on?! Scott: Nothing! Pearl: Nothing!

...

*Martyn is going through the nether portal and he looks through the spyglass at his friends as he does, making the swirling vortex effect even worse* Martyn: Oh, that made me feel sick. I don't know why I did that.

...

Grian: Joel is the least sneaky person I've ever seen. Scott: Oh, what did he do now? Grian: He's literally behind you.

...

Joel: *screeching in frustration* Going a bit mad! Going a bit mental!

...

Etho: Being alone with yourself IS awkward, isn't it, Tango? Tango: Always. Every day of my life, man.

...

Etho, to Bdubs: Uh, how about you hit the mushroom this time?

...

Scott: Why are you just IN my base?! Get out! Impulse, why do you ALWAYS find a way in here?!

...

Grian, rapidly crouching and uncrouching: The boogie-man!!

...

Skizz: All we've got now is BS.

...

Scott: Mumbo's just making himself a nice chair. He's having a great time.

...

Skizz: *making aeroplane noises* EAT.

...

Martyn: Do you wanna see another poltergeist? Lizzie: *gasps and spins round* Grian, placing lava on her: AHA!!!

...

Ren: Hi, Scott. Scott: Did you do a murder? Ren, sadly: I did. I feel so bad.

...

Grian: Is this a good time to tell you... I'm the other boogeyman? *long pause* Mumbo: It's a terrible time, Grian.

...

Scott: TANGO. Tango: What? *pause* Scott: What the heck?

...

Skizz: Don't wanna mess with THAT. I'm gonna go ahead and just keep on running.

...

Tango: I think I'm facing... north. *checks coords* Oh, that's south. I have no idea what's even happening anymore.

...

*Grian and Mumbo laughing as they both crouch and uncrouch rapidly*

...

Martyn: BigB, you're doing an awful job of protecting Lizzie, there. BigB: Where did- Ah, she might be dead now.

...

Grian: *mines out the block below Mumbo, only for him to immediately drop one block onto the ladder* Grian: Oh...

...

Tango, running away on soul sand with soul speed: GOTTA GO, GOTTA GOOOOO!

...

Martyn: Bye, Pete the Poltergeist!

[monkeyfishgirl]

And Nothing Where I Now Arrive Is Shining (A Gonchrey Fic)

Sunlight danced across the cobbles of the Piazza del Plebiscito, errant gulls were circling and careening around the pure sky on the lookout, like hawks, for casually dropped crumbs from careless tourists. The gulls had no way of knowing that the two dark haired men who sat at the table of the bustling bistro were not careless tourists: far from it. 

The taller of the two, although it was hard to discern which that might have been, both seated as they were, took a long drag on his Prima cigarette. The other man grimaced slightly as took a sip of his espresso - still unfamiliar after all this time. Between them sat an empty plate that had once held the pizza that they shared- prosciutto and rocket- now reduced to a smear of grease on the white porcelain. 

From above the gulls could see how the silence cloaked the pair like a weighted blanket. It sat about their shoulders without grounding, without comfort; a heaviness with no reprieve only choking and suppressing. So long had the run from this feeling and yet here they were again - another country, another time, but ever trapped in their shared history. From her position up on high, one intrepid gull swope down to perch on the table next to the two men. The wrought iron legs rattled gently on the cobbles with her weight as she landed, causing the pair to break their wordless reverie as it snapped their joint attention. They both glanced at each other and broke into a nervously relieved snort of laughter.

“Andrey…” the taller man started. He looked sad. His eyes were more liquid brown than his companion’s coffee -and infinitely more familiar to him- and they radiated misery. 

“I know. We can’t meet like this again.” muttered the shorter man, his eyes cast away. He spoke with the air of a condemned man counting down the last sweet agonising moments of his life on the gallows before the inevitable drop. The gull on the next table threw her head back as she chewed some discarded food; intrigued.

“You don’t. Dammit, Andrey, you’ve decided so much of this for me, for us. You don’t get to decide when it’s over. Don’t you know who I am? What I’ve done for you? What I do for you?!” Goncharov hissed, his eyes roving about his dining companion, voice tight with emotions that so infrequently broke their way to the surface of the torrent that raged within him. But his outburst was quiet. Even in this he remembered his place, the endless caution that had been droned into him by his father; by the USSR; by society itself. He was shaking lightly from the emotion. 

“Go back to Katya. She can love you the way I can’t. The way you deserve.” Andrey still couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look into those eyes he had loved, that had loved him, that had shown him the deepest and most vulnerable sides of this feared man. Couldn’t look at him and tell him ‘no’.

Goncharov stood up with the violent suddenness of a predator pouncing on its prey; the lightning quick reflex of a decision being made, a course of action irrevocably decided upon. The gull squawked and flapped a table away, but remained; watching skeptically with beady yellow eyes.

“That’s what you want?” he asked. His shoulders were a tense line. He didn’t glance at the other man as he spoke, instead focusing on the empty plate that lay between them, the taste of the sweet, salty happiness of their shared moments and ham turning to greasy ash in his mouth.

“Yes,” Andrey whispered, even as his heart screamed ‘no.’ “It’s the way it has to be. You know that.” He risked a glance up to where the other man seemed to tower over him. The gull who was nosing her way closer to the pair didn’t miss the way the standing man flinched bodily at his friend’s words. He hardened his face into a flinty facade.

“So be it, Andrey Mikhailovich,” he spat, “next time I see you it’ll be at the end of my pistol.” He turned on his heel and stormed away, a raincloud breaking up the glorious Neopolitan sunshine. The other man sat, solitary and stationary as death, his rapidly blinking eyes and deep breaths the only give away that he was alive. Gently, he too stood, throwing a careless bundle of lira on the table before he turned and left. He walked in the opposite direction. 

Seeing the table abandoned, the gull took her chance. She flapped her elegant wings to their now empty dining arena, eagerly anticipating the bounty that awaited her. To her disappointment, the plate and cups were empty. The only thing still sitting upon the table was everything that Goncharov had left behind in Andrey’s care: the bleeding, beating remnants of his still beating heart.

[smallestapplin]

Thoughts on Grimsley with a reader who, upon challenging him (elite four or not up to you), offers him a bet that the loser makes the winner a nice dinner someday? It's mostly joking, only a teeny tiny bit serious lol. I was watching a live stream the other day where the stakes of losing was that, and I thought it was very cute!

Also wanted to tack on that I love your writing and characterizations a whole lot!! Please have a wonderful day! Also if you have no insp for filling this request then that's totally chill! Thank you for your time ( ˊᵕˋ )/♡

I love you and will do anything for you, you sweet babby.

I made this platonic! If that’s okay.

-

-

Grimsley isn’t sure what to make of this. He’s known you for a while, since he was in the elite four back in Unova.

You two use to battle quite a bit, yet here you stood, ready to battle like old times.

“Wanna make a bet?”

His cyan eyes light up at the mentions of turning this into a game.

“Oh? What are the stakes?”

You smile, it might be a while before you see him again, with him going off to Alola soon.

“Loser makes the winner a nice dinner someday.”

You can see his eyes roll from across the field. He should’ve known, you were always the softer type.

“Well I’m not one to back down a challenge. Let’s go!”

The battle was long but stayed right on time. He couldn’t miss his flight. Pokémon fainting left and right and when the smoke settles, you had won.

“It seems time is short. I may have lost but you and your Pokémon shiny brilliantly.”

Your smile makes one appear on his own face.

“Alright fine, I’ll make you something someday, frozen pizza sound good?”

The former elite four member laughs at your playful shove. But soon silence took over as you two stared at the plane he’d be leaving on.

He feels your hand grip his bicep, he knows you don’t want him leaving but he needs to do this.

“I don’t expect you to message me everyday but…can you at least do it enough so I know you’re not dead?”

Your voice waivers a bit and your grip tenses a little.

“Of course, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

With a hug and a heartfelt goodbye, he was gone.

He’d give you updates on his flight and his temporary residence. The text messages would happen at minimum once a week. Grimsley got busy with the battle tower and gambling.

Which you didn’t mind, you were just happy to hear from him at all.

You hadn’t heard from him in two weeks and you were getting concerned. He maybe a jerk but he has standards, he never drop you without a warning, at least you think.

“Hey what food do you like again?- stop screaming it’s just me. Anyways, I was thinking spaghetti or Alfredo cause that’s all I got.”

Your scream was short lived when you realize it’s just Grimsley who marched through your door, dropping his bags to the ground and heading right for your kitchen.

“I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t know how to cook, so this is going to be an experience for both of us unless I order us take out.”

Grimsley walks around your kitchen, opening cabinet doors and looking to see what you have, moving as if you aren’t wrapped around his waist with your face buried in his back.

“I missed you, and you didn’t even tell me you’d be baaaack.”

“I wanted to make it a surprise, now either help me or we are ordering take out.”

He can feel slight wetness on his back, he knew you were just overwhelmed and happy to see him again.

In fact he thought it was cute, not like he’d ever tell you though.

[ask-the-screaming-silence]

[fizzingwizard]

Taichi Yagami Week Day 2 Prompt: Friends

(Some bad language)

After practice the soccer team files into the locker room. Taichi wastes no time stripping down to his boxers and pouring the contents of his water bottle over his head. He shakes his whole body like a dog, droplets flying everywhere.

The door opens, and there’s Yamato. Between the deft application of hair gel and the mere fact that he’s the only one in the room fully dressed, he couldn’t look more out of place. As he walks in, his nose wrinkles. It’s subtle, but prissy.

“It stinks like old socks in here,” he complains.

“Yeah, well, you try smelling like a rose after running around in the heat for hours,” Taichi shrugs without sympathy. He wipes his chest down with a towel.

“How do you stand it without wearing a clothespin on your nose?”

“Maybe I don’t have sensitive nostrils like you.”

“Geez. If I spend any longer in here I’ll need a shower,” Yamato mutters, and then thrusts a thin envelope in Taichi’s hand. “That’s your guest pass for Saturday night. Don’t be late, I will lock you out.”

After turning the envelope around (it looks the same on both sides, but he feels like an inspection is in order), Taichi puts it in his bag. “Ooh, a guest pass. Looks like I’m getting the VIP treatment.”

“Yeah,” Yamato says dryly. “Get pumped for leftover pizza and all-you-can-drink tap water. Plus free entertainment in the form of Akira and Tsukasa’s endless bitching.”

“If there's one thing I've learned from literally every teen movie ever, it's that garage bands are meant to fight among themselves. Means you’re edgy and have incredible emotional depth.”

“Sure - if you're referring to the depths of my annoyance."

“Hmm, I know. As your groupie, I’ll drown them out by screaming at the top of my lungs. If that doesn’t work, I’ll flash them!”

“You know, Taichi,” Yamato says with a grin, “at this point, I might even let you try.” Then, with a wave, he heads back into the hall. Even the way he opens the door is fluid, more purposeful than Taichi’s wide, brash swing.

Once he’s gone, Taichi becomes aware of the dead silence in the room just as it reaches a crescendo.

“What?” he asks.

No one answers. His teammates go back to showering and stretching, and conversation soon picks up again, light and easy, mostly centered on the upcoming game. Taichi joins in, enthusiastically debating strategy with other senior players. He’s team captain for a reason, after all.

The door opens again, this time with a timid push which goes unnoticed. So does the even quieter, “Um, Taichi-san?” that follows. A few minutes go by before anyone picks up on the intrusion, and when they do, it’s not even because they noticed the speaker, but because a draft slips in through the crack in the doorway.

Startled when all eyes fall on him, Koushirou starts to let the door fall closed.

“Hey, what’s up?” Taichi strides over before he can escape. Although Koushirou shot up several centimeters recently, Taichi still towers over him, a fact made even more stark by the way Koushirou hunches his shoulders as the athletes continue to stare.

“Um… sorry to interrupt, Taichi-san, but there’s a situation.”

“No problem. What kind of situation?”

Koushirou’s dark, clever eyes shift back and forth. “In the computer room,” he explains, and raises his thick brow meaningfully.

“Oh, gotcha,” says Taichi. A situation in the computer room can only mean one thing. “Do I have time to put on a shirt?”

“Yes, I think so. Meet you there?”

“Yup.”

Koushirou nods. Then, with one more awkward glance at the crowd, he ducks away and closes the door with a snap.

As soon as he’s gone, Taichi leaps to his locker and digs for a fresh shirt. As he’s pulling it over his head, he realizes the room’s gone completely quiet. Again.

He shoves his collar down. “No one knows how to start a conversation without me, huh?” he snips.

People finally look away, and Taichi finishes dressing as fast as he can.

“It’s odd, is all,” says Sakamoto, who plays defense.

“What’s odd?” Taichi asks, fumbling with a button.

Sakamoto shares a look with Tsubo (midfield). “Just how you’re friends with so many random people.”

“Random?”

“Well, Ishida’s a band geek,” says Tsubo.

“Kind of preppy too,” nods Sakamoto.

“Wannabe-punk prep.”

Taichi bites back a laugh at this appraisal. “So?” (Wannabe-punk prep! He is going to have so much fun teasing Yamato later).

“And Izumi is in the computer club. What does he need you for? You’re already in a club. Not to mention, he’s an underclassman.”

“So?” Taichi repeats, frowning at them in impatience. “What about it?”

“They’re - they’re just not who people expect the captain of the soccer team to hang out with,” Tsubo blurts out, and Sakamoto nods harder. He’s like a bobble head doll. “What about that gangly guy with the glasses? He’s a major prep. I bet he’s got a trust fund. And there’s those girls…” His lip curls as he pronounces “girls,” and Taichi wonders when they regressed to middle school social order. “Takenouchi’s one thing, but Tachikawa - she’s pretty but she’s weird, you know?”

“The type you make out with in the stairwell, but never invite to a karaoke party,” adds Sakamoto.

“She is pretty weird,” Taichi agrees (not point in denying the obvious). Inside he’s begun to simmer. “But I don’t get what the problem is. They’re my friends. Why can’t I hang out with them?”

“You can,” Sakamoto hurries to reply, “it just looks strange. Like, how can you be a real team player, if you’ve got loyalties in so many different areas?”

Taichi’s mouth falls open. Loyalty? They want to pin him on loyalty? “I’m here for every practice,” he says, throat tight. “I’m at every game. We go out to eat as a team - we’ve even held study sessions together. Even with all that, I’m ‘not a real team player’ just because I spend time with other people too?”

Neither of his teammates can come up with a response to this. They shuffle around, silent and exasperating. It’s clear as crystal that they don’t have an argument, but are convinced they’re right anyway. Taichi’s disbelief expands and expands until it pops, and his arm quakes with nervous excitement as he throws his bag over his shoulder.

If they only knew what they were making light of!

But it’s not their fault they don’t. Tsubo and Sakamoto are just regular guys. It’s not their fault Taichi can’t find the words to express what it’s like to sleep back-to-back with a stranger for months on end. To depend on them for your wants and needs, and be depended on in turn.

To argue and squabble until all the pent-up anger and frustration reaches a fever pitch, and you’re hit with the realization that no one else knows you so very well.

To notice how simple familiarity with another person feels a lot like love, even if they’re sometimes annoying.

To know you’d die for them.

“Listen, I like you guys, but they were my friends before you were,” Taichi tells his teammates. “So you’d better get used to that.”

He could try to explain. Give them the afternoon special on why cliques are bad and having friends with different interests is good. He always knows who to call if he’s stuck on a problem in his homework, or needs a favor in the middle of the night, or just someone to pal around town with.

He could, but he doesn’t. They’re his friends. They don’t need to be justified.

Sakamoto and Tsubo seem cowed enough anyway. Taichi’s got a rep for being the easy-going sort, except on the field - except when it matters. This matters.

Just before exiting the locker room, Taichi pauses. “By the way,” he says with a sly smirk. “Since we were discussing strategy: Mimi-chan slays at karaoke. Maybe try inviting her to the next party - if you ever want to win, that is.”

Then he saunters off to the computer room, where his friends are.

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

(author's note: I tend to think Taichi's probably decently well-liked by people. Not popular, but one of those people in school that everyone seems to know somehow. I don't think he's the type to clique up, but cliques are soooo common and make friendships so hairy. I always admired people who moved between pods of friends with ease - in high school especially there always seemed to be this sense of disloyalty just because you spent time with someone else's pod. It's a mix of jealousy, insecurity, and bids for control. I'd like to say I never experience it as an adult... but, as the song goes, high school never ends...)

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

Da capo - part 6

Trail post part 1 to 5

Ritenuto (Italian: 'held back')

It was raining.

Harry stared out of the window of the restless night watching the sky pour down over the earthly land. He sat there on the bed, hearing faint hustling from outside in the hallway and the sound of water crashing against the window, he remained there, watching and falling in love. It was easier he realised while his mind wrote down with a quill in his head that Loving was easier, that falling in love was easier, falling out was hard and it's not because nobody tells you how to but because we all fear abandonment, and in love there isn't abandonment. He hates thinking about the night he had to leave Draco because it was easier to just not think about it and even if he hated the easy way, he never complied thinking the hard way because perhaps for once he wanted things to be easy.. Maybe that's why he didn't return, among many other reasons he doesn't know. Among many other reasons he wishes he knew.

He woke up the next morning and being done with morning routine, he realised he had nothing to do. He could visit Arthur but the ward remained close today as he heard clearly yesterday by the nurses. He thought he might go shopping but he always hated the idea of shopping alone. He could maybe take a walk but he couldn't remain on the streets all day and he didn't wanted to disturb the Weasley's anymore, he had already been enough of a trouble to them, in the past and now.

" you could come to the office with me and Ron, they'd love you down there obviously but you can just explore the visitor section"

" ministry is possibly the most boring place to be Hermione " harry rolled his eyes as he shut the last page of the daily prophet and slided the newspaper across the counter.

" it's not all bad alright. Maybe you could even try and patch things up with Ron " Hermione suggested

" I'd much rather not be murdered in his office Hermione " harry replied lazily.

" you can't Just sulk in here harry" she sighed and then just as randomly it hit her " you know what you have to do nothing..but you can help me right ?"

" help you with what ?" He asked strangely curious.

" we have got these old cold cases files that's already been done but nobody is ready to tally them to check which one's closed, which one's are still being worked on and which ones need to be worked on. You can help check them " Hermione suggested.

"I'd rather choke to death mione. I left ministry for a reason " harry rolled his eyes.

" come on-"

" fine" he dragged on " I'll come but I'll be in the visitor's section. I'd wander about and if nothing interests me I'll come back "

Hermione thought for a moment but then nodded and very much regrettably harry left with her soon enough.

Harry was absolutely right about ministry being a very boring place. Hermione was as busy as ever and Ron Definitely didn't wanted to see him, everyone's gawked at him like an old extinct species present in a museum and the visitors section was filled with mostly bunch of kids who came on a trip. Harry was more than ready to just go back home and was walking to Hermione's office when he collided with someone just before her door.

" I'm so sorry- I didn't- Draco?" Harry frowned.

" what are you doing here ?" He asked immediately.

" well- you know I like to walk around here with files and running in circles " Draco joked, harry almost did smile " I work here obviously . I didn't know you were coming "

" oh, Arthur fell sick. I had to visit " harry replied.

" oh " draco replied as though realisation stroke him just then " I heard about that. How is he doing now ?"

" fine " harry nodded.

They remained there awkwardly looking at each other when someone crashed by Harry and his eyes fell onto Hermione's office door.

" listen I - I'm sorry- I gotta go actually. I need to- well talk to Hermione, but meet me soon I guess ?" Harry Suggested.

" oh- no- sure, yeah. Meet you soon then "; harry nodded and walked past Draco, almost about to knock her door when he heard him call out.

" what ?" Harry responded.

" I'm - almost done with work. Wanna go somewhere ?" Draco asked. Harry thought about it for a moment, his mind screaming of how weird it was, how awkward it would be and how incredibly wrong it was to see your ex boyfriend just as a friend.

" sure " instead harry replied.

" wanna come in my office then. I just need to-"

" sure " harry smiled cutting him off before Draco could've even explained but then it didn't matter and they walked into Draco's office.

" potioneer then " harry nodded as he entered his office.

" yeah, I got the opportunity last year and I thought why not. Hermione suggested me. Thanks to her" Draco dismissively replied stashing his files into his bag and locking.

" so why didn't you call when you came ?" Draco asked as he wore his coat, checking his pockets one last time.

" I just came actually, a day before yesterday and things had been busy with making up- meeting everyone and- just things " harry replied pocketing his hands.

Draco understandingly nodded and walked them out of the door.

They made a few small talks as they walked out of the ministry and strolled across a few more streets.

" so- you sold the apartment ?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco looked at harry for a moment before he realised what he meant and shook his head " it's already hard enough to find apartments here, I couldn't afford losing another and I mean it's not that apartment was the reason for everything, right "

Harry understandingly nodded but somewhere they both were welcomed with the fact of how strange it was to be like this, they were pretending maybe but it wasn't easy to just forget everything and yet both were playing their parts to the best.

They walked silently a few more streets both thinking of the same thing yet none dared to bring it up again, after all they had decided that they won't be the ex's who can't be friends.

" you wanna come over to my place, for dinner, maybe ?" Draco offered.

Harry wanted to say no, even almost said no but somewhere in the back of his mind knocked the images of Ron and Hermione and their pity looks or their hesitation in being able to talk. Considering the history it should have been harder with Draco but surprisingly enough, it wasn't as hard and so he responded " sure. Not like I have any other places to be "

Draco nodded and took the turn for his apartment and in not less than 5 minutes they were there as though he had planned to take harry home. They walked up the stairs in deafening silence and didn't utter a single word even when they entered the apartment, it was a doorbell that startle them and defiantly made them talk.

" mrs. Kentucky, how are you doing ?" Draco greeted his neighbour with a huge grin.

" lovely Darling. Wanted to return the sugar I borrowed and - is that Harry ?" She peered a little more through the door to get a better view but as Draco turned around to check on Harry, he vigorously shook his head.

" no, no that's just a colleague. Not a very friendly one at that " Draco Whispered and she nodded.

" not friendly eh, so not gonna date him huh" she mischievously smiled. Draco reddened at her words and immediately took the sashe of sugar and practically Shoved her out continuously thanking her and with a loud thud closed the door.

" she just-"

" I know " harry nodded smiling knowing exactly the kind of gossip lady Mrs. Kentucky was.

" ju- just for the record- I- I didn't bring anyone so there's nothing to-"

" Draco " harry stopped him " it's fine. We're- history " he added.

Draco seemed as though he wanted to say something but didn't and followed into the living room after nodding at harry.

" this place hasn't changed at all" harry said after having glanced the place.

" I- I didn't really feel like the need to " Draco replied.

" you mind if I- change ?"

" no, no of course not " harry shook his head vigorously and turned around to head towards the couch. Draco took it as a cue to get changed fast and join him again in the living room.

Harry despite having initially planned on sitting over the couch, stepped into the balcony and let himself gawk at the view. It's been so long he last saw the beautiful view it offered. The balcony had always been a very peaceful, calm escape especially when things seemed to overweight him; he can remember endless nights he had stood on the balcony because he felt as if something is someone was choking him, like the coil around his neck only tightened and he surged for air and this place had been where he came for a breath. He never was able to understand why everything was the way it was as and when he looked for answers, he couldn't, at least from not where he was. As he stood there watching over the city of London he was hit with strong realisation of how much he actually missed being here, missed the smell of the pizza place down the road and the sound of loud TV from the apartment next door and the lights that flickered on the road by the passing cars and the sight of clock tower, he missed being able to see over such a long latitude and wonder how farther the end is and it wasn't as if he didn't like paris, but paris wasn't London. Paris didn't had that flickering lights going by down the streets or the kids running down the streets on a skateboard or the loud neighbour next door with obnoxious loud TV nor it had the clock nor Paris had that calming grey look in the sky because of the always unprecedented rain about to happen any moment. Paris just wasn't what he thought it was.

" missed this ?" He heard. Harry didn't need to turn around, he just nodded.

" paris doesn't give you this ?" He asked as he stood by next to harry.

" there's a lot of things paris doesn't have " harry mumbled wishing he could explain Draco everything but he couldn't. He waited for Draco to ask why did he leave but he never asked and this is why perhaps tonight Harry was here and not there. Perhaps this is why Harry found it easier to be with Draco because he didn't ask too many questions, because he never asked unless he knew harry wanted to asked, because he understood when Harry didn't feel like talking, because he understood harry like no one else and even when draco should be the last person to understand harry and give him another chance, he did and maybe that's why he was here tonight, in the heart of the City with the one man who's heart was just broken as Harry because he knew harry, when no one else seemed to.

" London is home-"

" and Paris isn't ?"

Harry just shook his head. Paris was everything but home.

Because in paris, there wasn't you. Because there wasn't you in your blue blowy shirt and washed jeans with open arms, there wasn't you..

Part 7

I don't know why the short chapter!!!

300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

[queenmuzz]

Heat of the Moment

A Dante x Reader Valentine’s Day Special!

Your mom had always told everyone, in a disapproving tone, that you were too impulsive for your own good.  You darted into the road to get a runaway ball.  You bought that awesome looking jacket, without checking to see if it was on sale.  And now, because you were craving pizza, and didn’t want to shell out the four bucks extra for delivery, you were in a mighty fine pickle.

You decided that taking the deserted looking street at near midnight, just to shave a few minutes off your walk to Angelo’s Pizzeria was a perfectly splendid idea.  So splendid, you didn’t notice the shadowy figures following you, until you were grabbed from behind, and a cloth covered with some sort of chemical was placed over your screaming mouth.

So now, here you stood, or rather...laid, on cold grey stone, that seemed to leech all warmth away from your flesh.  It was still dark, but illuminated by torches, you seemed to be surrounded by columns of stone, like you were in some knock off kid sized version of Stonehenge.  You immediately attempted to get up, only to find to your irritation, your wrists and ankles were bound by industrial grade chains.   

“The offering has awoken!” called out a woman’s voice, and from the darkness, like the damn Ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings, nine cloaked figures came out of the darkness.  You tried to make out their faces, but both their pitch black cloaks, and blood red masks hid everything about them.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are gathered here tonight to call forth from the very bones of the earth, a power far greater than any human can imagine.  The stars have aligned, the incense has been lit.  All now,” she motioned to the cultist beside her, who handed her a leatherbound book, “Is to speak the incantations, and complete the rituals.”

And then, with the help of her assistant, the group began to chant.  You had no idea of what was being spoken, but it sounded Latin. 

“Really... Latin?  Guys, there are a tonne of other languages you could use!  What happened to originality?!” you grumbled, but while you could feel their glares, none stopped their inane chants

Upon each pillar,  a letter lit up, one at a time.  You couldn’t recognize the script, but it looked like a five year old’s attempt to write Hebrew. For some reason, that irked you. This makes no sense.  Latin is an Indo-European language, and Hebrew is a totally different family! These idiots are mixing everything up!.

But the incantation seemed to do the trick, and the flames grew, and changed to a sickly green colour.  And now, all these cultists raised their arms in exultation 

“Lord of the Underworld, we present you this offering, a Virgin Offering, for you to consume!” The lead cultist chanted.

“Wait!” you blurted out, in a desperate attempt to avert your fate, “I’m not a virgin!  I’ve had sex before, dozens...no, hundreds of times!”

Her assistant leaned over you, their mask barely concealing his skepticism.

“Name one person you have laid with,” he tested.

“Well…” Your mind was blank, and so you went with the first thing that shot through your brain.

“Your mom, for starters.”

You could have slapped yourself for such a dumb comeback, had your wrists not being tied up, but you needn’t have worried about not getting slapped.  The cultist’s lips twisted into a snarl, and you felt white hot pain radiating from your cheek, and the taste of blood filling your mouth.  Even though it hurt like hell, one part of you was mentally high fiving at that comeback.  His hand raised up one more time, to give another strike, but the leader quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Calm yourself, brother… the offering must remain undamaged. Besides,” and you could swear you  heard a smirk in her voice, “It’s not their body that must be virginal, it’s the blood.”

Well shit, you thought, as you placed your burning cheek against the cool stone to relieve the pain.  

The ritual continued.  “We humble servants provide both the firstfruits of this offering to open the way.”  The woman took out a jet black dagger, and approached you with steady steps.  Would she cut out your heart, Temple of Doom style?  Rip out your entrails?  Slit your throat?  All you could hope was that it would be quick and painless.  

What you hadn’t expected was for her to grab one of your restrained hands and with surprisingly gentleness placed the edge of the obsidian blades against your palm.

As she dragged the razor sharp edge, a line of crimson bloomed, like a trail of bubbles.  It almost didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t help but get upset.  All this pomp and ceremony, and they were just giving you a cut that would irritate you for weeks...if you lived that long. Whatever happens, you said as the cultist began using your blood to paint the two largest stone pillars, in a perverse parody of the Passover ritual, I hope whatever these bastards are summoning crushes them.

“COME FORTH!” The whole group chanted in unison, “Taste the blood… DEVOUR THE FLESH!”

And without warning, the blood...YOUR blood, burst into flame, racing up the pillars as if gasoline had been pumping through your veins.  At the top, the flames connected and  formed a gateway...a hellgate.  And within it, an orb, an inferno expanded...and a roar that sounded nothing like any earthbound animal emanated.

And then, an explosion of heat and sulfur knocked down the stones, and the cultists, sending the leader flying back several feet.  Only you, chained to the granite altar, remained in place.

You squinted as the searing light dissipated.  Among the now dying flames stood, or hovered… a demonic sight.  You could swear you saw the air distort from the heat that seemed to generate from within his chest.  Four leathery wings splayed out, the inner skin swirling designs constantly shifting, almost hypnotising.  And the horns!  A good foot long that curved  and twisted, glowing like charred wood both above and around his face. A face that reminded what was in front of you.  A demon.  Teeth as long and sharp as paring knives, eyes glowing like the pits of hell.  As if Satan himself had come up from the depths.  And for all you knew… he probably had.

You heard the sound of crumpled paper.  “Oh man,” the demon rumbled, his voice distorted by the sound of the exhaust coming from between his teeth, “I was just getting to the good part…”

“Oh Great and Powerful Lord…”  the devil stared at the surrounding area, at the the cultists that had recovered began following their leader’s motions and bowed prostrate on the ground, and you still chained.  It was hard to make out his expression, but it seemed like...surprise?

 “We are your most humble servants,” the leader continued,  “All we ask...is a scrap of your power...a trifle for one such as you, as payment for summoning you..My Lord?”

The demon didn’t even spare a second glance as he strode past her, past the other shrouded forms, and made a beeline towards you.  This was it, you thought, time to come up with a witty parting remark. But of course, your impulsive nature wouldn’t cooperate right now.  At least the demon seemed to be the ‘fire and fury’ style, he would probably consume you quickly.

He towered over you, and even now, the stone, which had been ice cold the entire time, began to heat up beneath you...sweat, both from terror, and the inferno looming above you,  beaded on your forehead.  

“My Lord?” the assistant asked, “Is the offering suitable for your arrival?  They have a wicked tongue, but they are perfect for summoning.

“I think you got it all wrong buddy,” the demon turned his eyes on the unholy congregation, and strangely, a chill appeared in the air, “You guys didn’t summon me….” A razor claw extended out and pointed at you, “THEY did… and if they summoned me…” the cultists slowly became aware of what he was implying, the quicker ones started making a run for it, “YOU guys must be the offering!  Who’s volunteering first?”

The answer was nine sets of panicking feet trying to sprint out of the stone circle.  The demon glanced back at you, “You might want to cover your eyes for this, it’s gonna get a little messy,” and with the speed of a racing forest fire, he charged, blades of superheated air swirling around him.  

The scream of the lead cultist was enough for you to clench your eyes shut, and then followed by a multiple of cries of terror and death, as the coppery scent of blood, not your own this time, scented the air.

A few minutes later, there was nothing but silence, except the sound of boots on gravel.  You couldn’t help it, you took a peek.

Instead of the cultists, or the demon, there was just a guy, shaggy white haired, with a worn t-shirt that clung juuuuust right against his broad chest, and a smile on his face.  You looked around, trying to find either a surviving cultist, or the demon, but all you could see in the darkness were void black shapes, lying on the grounds, their robes moving slightly in the breeze.

“That can’t be comfortable, let’s get you out of there,” the man said, and without a hint of effort, he gently grasped your hands, and with the other, he gave a quick yank.  Immediately the sound of snapping metal, and to your amazement, your arms were free.  And if you had thought he had done a sleight of hand with those chains, the way he effortlessly ripped the chains around your ankles off immediately clued you in that this man was more than he seemed.

You rubbed your wrists as you slowly sat up, staring at him. “Who are...you?”

“Ah, yeah...forgot to introduce myself in the whole hubbub.  Cultists always ruining get togethers.”  He stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.”  And as you shook his hand, with your uninjured one, you noticed that for a brief moment,  his eyes momentarily glowed red, like embers.  Embers that had once been blazing coals.

He must have seen the flash of panic in your eyes, because he backed away, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Don’t worry!  I ain’t going to hurt you… yeah, I’m the demon those jackasses called for” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “but I’m not the ‘MUST RULE THE WORLD’ type, I usually am the one people call to get rid of what was being summoned, not actually BEING the ‘sommonee.’  Wait, is that the correct term?”  He paused for a moment to think it over, before he seemed to come back to the present. “Anyways, I was just relaxing in my office, reading a magazine, and then POOF, I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people with horrible sense of fashion.  Speaking of my magazine...where did I put it?”

You saw the magazine, its pages fluttering in the wind, and picked it up.  A copy of ‘Half Cocked’, and on its cover, a buxom young brunette was getting a bit too friendly with a revolver,  alongside a well toned man wearing little more than a bandolier.

“Oh thanks!… that” he quickly snatched it out of your hands,  “I read it mainly for the articles…” he explained lamely, before hurriedly shoving it in his back pocket, as he looked you up and down. “Besides...I got a feeling I won’t need it much anymore…”  And in the flaming remnants of ritual, you swore you saw him turn a shade of pink...although that could just be the fire.

“Welp,”  He stretched, “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?  All that work made me famished.”

You had no idea where the hell you were, but you were still ravenously hungry.  Which reminded you how you got into this mess in the first place.

“I could go for some pizza or-”

You felt a blaze of warmth, and suddenly you felt your legs swept under you, and you looked up at Dante, now back to his demonic form carrying you bridal style.  But no longer did it strike fear in you, just a sense of awe...and admiration

“You truly know how to get to this demon’s heart,” he practically purred, and with a slight grunt, he leapt up and started flying towards the nearest collection of lights on the horizon.  “Pizza it is, then!”

Despite the remnant of chill from spending God knows how long on that stone, and the brisk breeze of the upper atmosphere blowing past you, you didn’t feel a little bit cold. It was like being held by a flying furnace.

“You know Dante….” you spoke, barely audible above the wind.

“Hm?”

“You’re pretty hot.”  Instantly, you realized what you had said, and would have preferred him to just drop you to your death at this very moment.

You heard him chuckle.

“Yeah, this form runs a bit warm….”

And even though he didn’t say it, you were almost certain he knew exactly what you meant.

[milkytheholy1]

Apocalyptic Love: Chapter 13: New plan

Tmnt masterlist. Ultimate masterlist. AL series links

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So what're ya suggesting, Don?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Ugh, this place is-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wondered what it could all mean.

[raynwithouttheboe]

Okay, even though no one asked, I'm gonna introduce y'all to my Pizza Tower AU: Screaming Silence

So basically, Pizzahead decided to lock Noise in a cage to see how long he'd last cause what else is new, and it turns out Noise doesn't last very long in solitude and silence. He sorta goes insane (like somehow moreso than normal) and also gains newfound depression and anxiety cause he isn't in full solitude. People can still talk to him, but they aren't allowed to. It'd mess up the experiment, after all. Because of that, whenever anyone other than Pizzahead comes near the cage, Noise begs them to let him out, but they ignore him. For the most part, at least. They might glance at him, but they're not allowed to talk to him (much less let him out). Noise eventually becomes silent, trying to be as polite and agreeable as possible in order to minimize the unwavering feeling that everyone hates him now. He also doesn't have any cigarettes or alcohol, so he's also going through withdrawals and stuff. Also, the lock on his cage is bulletproof, and he can't pick a lock to save his life, so he's completely trapped. He does get food and water, don't worry, but that's the extent of any interaction he has with anyone outside of his cage. And he still doesn't get any responses if he tries to talk to whoever happens to be bringing him food (cough cough Pizzahead)

He stays trapped for 6 months. Noisette, while Noise is trapped, stays in her cafe, only eating enough to keep herself alive. She was told to wait à la Spinel. But anyways, when Noise returns to society, everyone finds out just how badly this affected him. He's completely lost himself, gaining intense social anxiety and becoming a hardcore introvert out of fear of being locked up again. He even apologizes to Peppino for being a dick to him

It's sort of split up into two parts in a way. One part being while Noise is trapped, and the other being after he gets out

So yeah, that's my AU, I hope you liked it! ^^