#so I played this game and clearly I am as dumb as a box of hammers cuz basically all the subtext of what was going on went over my head

[animestsstuff2]

DynamightX is typing…

Bakugou Katsuki! X FemReader

Prompt: in which you are unknowingly texting Bakugou Katsuki

There will be abbreviations used for the messaging parts just things like u instead of you to fit todays texting!

Content warning: bakugou insulting you, slight crushing on Kirishima! (Lowkey love Kiri)

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

You rolled over from your previous position snatching your phone from the charging cable and squinting at the bright light. You couldn’t sleep at all. A sigh left your lips as you opened the messaging app you had downloaded a while ago.

Denki likes to use it when you guys are playing online games. You scrolled past your usual group chat which had a few notifications, most likely Denki can’t sleep either and is begging someone to play with him. You had joined a few different chat rooms, one was related to your quirk and a few others just had relating interests to you.

You scrolled down finding an active one and just as you went to join your message request pinged. Your brows pinched together as you checked the message box. You didn’t recognise the name at all.

DynamightX has sent you a message request!

None of your friends from UA had this username and you couldn’t think of anyone else. You clicked onto it. It was late and you were bored, what harm could come of it?.

DynamightX: why ya even in that chat if you’re not gonna talk about your quirk.

Your brows furrowed as you read the message. Who was this guy? Your mind quickly went to the chat you were in for quirks. It had a few people in it with varying quirks. You swiped onto the chat and typed their name.

Nothing—they hadn’t talked about their quirk once. They only ever spoke to insult someone else’s quirk—jerk. You clicked the profile and scrolled seeing they weren’t in any other chats except that one and had nothing in their bio. You swiped back onto the message request and began typing. Your knees bent and legs swaying in the air as you pulled your pillow further under your chin.

XAmethysta_: you’ve never talked about ur quirk either so why are u bothering me for?

DynamightX: i at least talk in that chat room. Bet ur some quirkless loser nerding out over other peoples.

Your jaw literally dropped as you felt yourself grow angry. Who the hell was this person? You typed back furiously.

XAmethysta_: i am not quirkless and even if i was that doesn’t make me a loser. Ur a loser for msging me about this, got nothing better to do?

DynamightX: I obviously have something better to do. U clearly don’t tho stalking that dumb chat.

XAymethysta_: good go do it then and stop bothering me.

You swiped off the app and turned your phone off rolling back over and closing your eyes. You eventually drifted off to sleep after continuously tossing and turning in frustration over what that person said to you.

He must absolutely hate his quirk if he gets on like that

…

You sat in class Jirou to your left and Mina to your right as you talked about the shopping trip after school today. It was almost the end of school lunch was soon and then you’d be out in no time to hang out with your friends.

“So who is all coming again?” You asked and Mina immediately began listing names.

“Uraraka, Kaminari um—Shoto I think obviously Kirishima. I don’t know if Bakugou is coming” Your cheeks tinged and Mina rolled her eyes. You had a bit of a crush on the red head.

“Hey Kirishima! Are you and Bakugou coming after school today?” Your eyes darted over to the group of boys. Kirishima glanced at all three of you and you quickly averted your gaze from his sharp grin.

“Heck yeah! What time we meetin’? And just at the usual spot?” He asked.

“Hmm say an hour after school ends?” Mina told him. You looked back to see him nod with confirmation and swivel back round in his seat to face his friends.

Your eyes caught the all too familiar narrowed red eyes of his best friend and you just puffed your cheeks out, rolling your eyes at the rude blonde boy who just glowered more at you. The pencil he held smoking from his overheated palm.

“Gosh he really hates you Y/N” Jirou snickered and you just shrugged.

“Good. I’d never be friends with someone like him” You grimaced hearing the bell ring and heading out for lunch.

“Bakugous not that bad. He helped Kirishima study for the final exams” Mina pipped up.

“Yeah plus he sometimes shares the food he makes in the dorm with whoever’s there” Jirou added. You just shook your head.

“Don’t care—guy’s a big bully. Y’couldn’t even pay me to like him” You shot back.

You actually didn’t mind him when you first joined. You kinda assumed his personality was a result of having a great quirk, well off parents and being both academically talented and attractive but after getting to know him better—well slightly nothing was redeeming.

He also hated you from the first day. If he wasn’t ignoring your entire existence he was constantly berating you. He found you training one day and went on about how he’d be so much better at using your quirk than you and that you sucked at using it.

You stared down at the buffet of food before you in the line with your friends, swallowing dryly.

Plus thinking about him makes you lose your appetite he sucks that much!

…

You walked to the food court with your friends. Your hand full of bags from your favourite shops as you spotted the rest of your group. The only seat now left was between Kirishima and Bakugou. Your cheeks tinged a bit as you sat down, scooting your chair closer to Kirishima and away from the blonde who was on his phone having it faced away from you and typing furiously.

“Hey Y/N, get anything nice?” You turned your head and found Kirishima leaning quite close. Your cheeks warming as you embarrassingly cleared your throat.

“Y-Yeah! Um, just—y’know clothes and stuff nothing crazy” You literally wanted to crawl into a hole and die. That was so embarrassing.

“Yeah? I got this new jumper, what’dya think?” He pulled a red and black designed hoodie from a bag. A classic colour for him.

“Mm! It’s super nice, looks really comfy too!” He nodded in agreement. Your eyes darted behind you to Mina who was giving a pink thumbs up.

“Kirishima man, c’mon i’m starvin’ you said we’d get food when the girls got here” Kaminari moaned as he flopped back in his chair.

“Okay okay chill out dude. Its chivalrous to wait on the girls y’know” he got up from his seat and looked back down at you.

“You hungry Y/N? Want me to get you something?” He asked and you quickly shook your head, face burning.

“N-No thank you so much! B-but I can get myself—please it’s okay!” You rushed out, skin warm and mouth dry. He just gave you a grin and nodded heading off with Kaminari.

You turned to speak to Mina and cry about how embarrassing that was when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out checking to see if it was your parents trying to reach you. Your brows furrowed at the notification from that app.

DynamightX has sent you a message!

You opened the app and clicked onto the chat between the two of you. Your brows pulled together.

DynamightX: finally spoke today in the group chat about ur quirk.

XAmethysta_: ok? What u coming here to insult me privately?

DynamightX: u should train with someone who can send high level blasts or hits at ur forcefields if u wanna make them more durable

Your lips parted in a slight shock, brows raising before pulling together again. Who the hell was this person? Why were they complimenting you. They always, always insult every other person who even speaks in that chat room. You didn’t really know how to respond fingers twitching but not typing.

DynamightX: or u can stay a weak ass nerd for all I care. Ur parents not teach u to thank someone when they’re helpin ya.

Your face warmed at their message. You chewed on your lip, glancing up and seeing your friends engrossed in conversation with one another as you quickly typed a response.

XAmethysta_: sorry thanks i’ll have to try that. Whats your quirk?

DynamightX is typing…

You sat staring a little longer when the text bubble disappeared, shrugging you stuck your phone back into your pocket and seen Kirishima and Kaminari had returned. He placed a tray of your favourite food in front of you and your eyes lit up as you looked at him.

“Aw my favourite!” You grinned as his own crinkled eyes met yours. “You didn’t have to Kirishima but thank you”

“Y-Yeah well I just seen it and y’know I know you’ve mentioned its your favourite so-“ he rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks matched his hair. You just blushed and smiled back as you turned to dig in.

Bakugou glanced at the food you were eating and then back at you. You were completely unaware of the blondes eyes on you as you spoke to Uraraka who sat across from you. He looked back down at his phone which sat under the table in his lap as he stared at the message which he didn’t want to send.

He wanted to keep who he was a secret to whoever this person he was texting was. It was..nice not having any expectations.

…

02:00AM

There you were again tossing and turning unable to sleep as you groaned and tossed the blanket from your body. You would think with how impressive and highly modernised UA was that they could at least install better air conditioning.

You sat up shifting some pillows behind your back and grabbing your phone. It had been just over a week of messaging this boy something you had found out after talking about a new clothing line and being told to shut up because he was a boy and he didn’t care.

XAmethysta_: u awake?

Your fingers twiddled with one another as you stared at the message. He probably wasn’t he went to bed every single night between 10 and 11pm, sometimes earlier but never later than 11. You wished you had that sleep schedule. You always stayed up late.

You sighed and moved to set your phone back down when it buzzed and you flicked it back on seeing his username beside the notification. You couldn’t stop the grin sneaking its way onto your face as your toes curled into the sheets. You were just happy to have someone to talk to.

It would he weird to be crushing on someone you don’t even know even if you have been talking non-stop for over a week.

DynamightX: i was till u texted me. What’dya want loser

You chewed your lips and rolled your eyes.

XAmethysta_: shut up u grump. I can’t sleep.

DynamightX: so why is that my problem??

XAmethysta: because everyone else is asleep rn and ur not! C’mon theres a reason why ur awake, tell me.

You waited for a response and whilst you waited Bakugou sat against his head board staring at the same string of messages. His own skin warm and face relaxed for once. A whisper of a smile on his face as he typed then deleted and then retyped but then deleted again the same string of words just laid out differently. His cheeks puffed out as he finally decided to share some personal information and hit send.

DynamightX: this girl I go to school with was annoying me today

XAmethysta_: oh what did she do?

DynamightX: nothing specific she just is annoying. Her face or something idk

You snorted at his response. This poor girl she probably is very nice and just goes about her day and this guy just finds her annoying for some reason. Bakugou waited for your response after sharing that information. He didn’t share a lot about himself to you, maybe it was the stranger danger instilled within him from a child or because you shared enough for the both of you.

He knew a lot about you already after such a short time. He knew your favourite song, animal and colour. The way you like to organise your clothes and the food you like the most. He even knew about some of your friends but you didn’t mention names. He knew things about you except your actual name and what you looked like.

XAmethysta_: lol her face or something? Shut up you probably hate her cuz shes better than u

DynamightX: shut up loser. I’m better than everyone at this school

XAmethysta_: yeah sureee if thats not why u dislike her then ask her to train with u and beat her

DynamightX: don’t tell me what to do. Why are u up anyways

XAmethysta_: AC in my schools dorms suck. Too warm rn

DynamightX: try sweatin all the time cuz of your quirk then complain to me about bein too warm

XAmethysta: omg! Is your quirk sweat?! Is that why you insult other people is being able to sweat loads your quirk!

DynamightX: shut up u ass it is not my quirk and that counts as ur guess for today.

XAmethysta: noo cmon that can’t count as my guess. Its not even the morning

DynamightX: it counts so quit yappin at me and accept it. I’m going to bed now to don’t msg me botherin me.

XAmethysta: okayyy ur so dramatic ! Sweet dreams sweaty boy!

DynamightX is typing…

You clicked your phone off and rolled over to bed closing your eyes and smiling slightly as you thought of the boy you were messaging. You eyes closing as you fell asleep.

Bakugou, however, was sat chewing his lip as he stared at his message to you.

:My quirk is Explosion. I could beat you any day loser.

He deleted it and threw his phone aside as he pulled the sheets over him, thinking about who he was texting and feeling his skin prickle. His mind going to the advice you gave him and the feeling turned sour as he thought about you. The girl he went to school with. He really disliked you. He didn’t know why nor did he care but he knew now what he was going to do

He was going to take your advice and confront you with a battle.

[metalomagnetic]

Voldemort meets Sirius.

He knows this one will be different as soon as he steps foot in the messy house.

The wards that guard it are borderline dark magic, barely legal. They are well executed, as well. An auspicious beginning, Voldemort thinks, as he patiently dismantles them.

The Black scion isn’t home; Evan dutifully let Voldemort know he’s drunk in some Knockturn pub.

“He often comes to drink in Knockturn, but always alone. Never with his Gryffindor friends. He’s a mean drunk, too, my lord. Perhaps if you wish to have a semblance of a rational conversation- as much as it is possible with any Black- you shouldn’t approach him when he’s wasted.”

The walls are …colourful. The paint was once white, but the young Black heir hung posters of muggle singers everywhere. Perhaps actors, too, Voldemort isn’t familiar with what passes for famous these days in the muggle world.

He only recognises Elvis, mounted over the fireplace.

They all look the same- tall, dark haired, dressed in leather.

Pictures of his friends are up there as well. He recognises Potter in many of them- hard not to, with that trademark Potter hair. The girl draped on his arm, red head, must be his mudblood. Voldemort forgot her name. Something flowery, but it escapes him.

Bella and Evan, occasionally Rabastan often complain about Black’s entourage, but they only name Potter.

“Stupid Potter, his mudblood and the werewolf! He left us for those little worms!”

He thinks the werewolf must be the thin one, an air of misery draped over him in every picture. Greyback complained about him, too. Remus, that’s the one, it comes to Voldemort. Remus Lupin, werewolf.

“With a name like that, I had to bite him,” Greyback smirked, in one of his rare funny moods. “He was destined to be mine, but Black stole him.”

The other boy that appears in almost all the pictures, Voldemort doesn’t even try to place.

He got a report on all of them, marked as Dumbledore’s puppets, but he only remembered the important names on that list.

The girl, he knows. Only one picture with her. Marlene McKinnon. A fighter- a good fighter. She killed three Death Eaters. A Healer, too. Voldemort always looks after powerful witches. They are sorely misrepresented in this war. It upsets Bella, who is trying to recruit more girls, with little success.

She’s in Black’s lap, head thrown back, while Black sucks a bruise on her throat. Voldemort tilts his head, wastes a second more than it is needed on the picture. He’d never seen a picture this vulgar, especially put on display on a wall. The girl is engaged, isn’t she? With one of the Prewett brothers.

He scans the walls for them, but he can’t find them anywhere.

He finds muggle telephone numbers scribbled in lipstick on the walls, instead.

The most amusing- a picture ripped from a newspaper, showing the Dark Mark floating over a house. It has many sharp objects stuck in it-

Darts. Yes, that’s the name of the game.

He smiles. Black has good aim- one of the darts is stuck in the eye of the snake.

Under the bed, beneath a loose floorboard, he finds a box kept safe by no less than five curses. He opens it to find a picture of Orion Black. It is clipped from a newspaper article, cut carefully and precisely around the edges. And a letter. It’s clearly the second page of one- the first is missing.

‘-no need to play dumb, it doesn’t suit you. You know fully well it is not cursing the half-blood that bothers me, but your lack of decorum. You are a civilised young man, you represent our family, and you should act accordingly. I warned you I do not enjoy having to correspond with either McGonagall or Dumbledore, yet you’re forcing me to do so when you blatantly misbehave. Am I to presume you do not care about my displeasure, and this is why you disobey me? Or should I conclude you would like to please your father, yet you lack the self-control to do it? I struggle to pick which option is worse. This is the seventh time in a month I receive letters about your detentions. Do stop assaulting your schoolmates, or if you must, show some cunning and do not get caught. Or else we will have to have a serious conversation when you come home for Yule. I assure you, it is not a conversation you will enjoy.

Furthermore, I hear you intend to take a mudblood to one of those holiday celebrations Slughorn likes to host. Surely, I heard wrong. You would be wise to invite Helena Edgecombe to this function. Her father mentioned just the other day that she finds your company delightful.

Flitwick was accommodating enough to send me your Charms paper, along with your grade. He mentioned it was the best paper he graded in all his years of teaching, and, after reading it, I must agree it was quite extraordinary. I am half tempted to send it to my old mentor back at the Institute. Very well done, Sirius. You certainly can make me proud when it doesn’t inconvenience you.

If only you would show proof of your upbringing in your social life, as well, I would be most content.

With love,

Your father.’

The letter has blotch marks on it, as if someone cried over it. The word ‘father’, especially, is almost erased, and Voldemort imagines Black often moved his finger over it.

Bella mentioned Sirius Black was ‘unnaturally close’ to Orion, and that his father’s death broke him. She credits this event with the boy running away from Grimmauld.

Voldemort carefully arranges these apparently precious possessions back into the box, seals it under the floorboard with the same curses he found on it.

The house is messy, unorganised, clothes thrown around, bottles of alcohol everywhere, full to the brim ashtrays lying around in odd places, and burn marks on the rug.

Yet his collection of muggle records is organised in alphabetical order, neatly. And there, hidden behind the impressive collection, Voldemort finds eight tomes filled with dark magic. All illegal.

His bathroom cabinets are just as messy, and clearly his female guests left behind bottles of lipstick, or similar products. They also left behind some lingerie. A pair of pink knickers is half hidden into a tiny gap underneath the bathtub. He wonders if they belong to the same women who left her bra between the couch cushions in the living room.

Voldemort finds a secret compartment, coming out from the side of the bathroom cabinet. Hang-over potions, peppers up. Polyjuice.

Veritaserum.

Hidden further still, he finds three lethal poisons.

If he didn’t know better, Voldemort might think two different men share the house; a careless, Bohemian womaniser, a blood traitor surrounded by mudbloods and half-bloods and other blood traitors, with muggle musicians on the wall.

And the Black heir, interested in dark magic, poisons, sleeping with his father’s picture under his bed.

This will be easy, he thinks, as he sits in an appalling armchair that doesn’t fit with the rest of the furniture.

Charmed into the armrest, there’s a letter, covered in plastic for preservation. “You fucking dog, how dare you steal my armchair! Give it back, or I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life writing horrible articles about you!”

It amuses Voldemort, as it probably amuses Black, hence why he decided to place it on the armrest, permanently.

When the young man stumbles his way into the house, he contains his surprise to find Voldemort there remarkably fast.

People have been telling Voldemort Black takes after Walburga; he might, it’s too soon to tell, but his first impression is that Sirius favours his father.

Voldemort is yet to meet an unattractive Black- and he’s met them all- but the boy is something else, even for the Blacks.

His tall, broad body is on display in the muggle attire he wears, hair falling around his shoulders with a casual elegance; he is both handsome, with strong, sharp bones and beautiful, with soft lips and long, thick eyelashes, made even darker by the paleness of his eyes.

It has been so long since he felt attraction; it travels up his spine as he takes in the boy.

Who very quickly decides he will die a hero; Voldemort can see that decision forming in his eyes. Not with Legilimency. It’s just made obvious by the way his impressive shoulders straighten with pride, his jaw sets in determination, anger replacing the fear in his eyes.

And there was fear- Voldemort is intimately familiar with fear of death, can easily recognise it when it shines in front of him.

Yet he spent his life fleeing from it.

Sirius Black walks towards it, bold.

It takes only a minute of conversation to charm him; easy, indeed. Sirius’ interest is picked instantly; pride flickers in his eyes that someone like Voldemort would bother coming to kill him; even more pride when Voldemort explains he’s there to recruit him.

He is a Black, down to his last bone. He calls Voldemort a mudblood; he declares himself the purest being in existence. He speaks of his mother; the boy in the pictures is not there, the owner of muggle records, the blood traitor- no; only the Black heir speaks to Voldemort that night.

Powerful, too, like any Black. A diamond in the rough, his magic true and strong and raw as he unleashes it. Dark curses fall with a practiced ease from his wand. Fiendfyre engulfs the room in seconds.

What a treasure. As unhinged and powerful as Bella, this one.

And there it is, his pure blood spilling over the floor, staining the carpet. Voldemort has the impulse to taste it; a momentary madness, but the boy enchants him so.

His clothes are ripped and burned in places, and Voldemort can glimpse tattoos on pale skin. Voldemort wants his mark on that skin; he wants to hold the boy’s strong forearm and brand him as his own. Claim him for himself.

Sirius Black fights readily, bravely. With his wand and with his words.

But Voldemort can smell the mountain of insecurity hidden under the fury, like the boy hides his poisons under harmless perfumes.

Some men- most men- cower when confronted with violence, bend and break under pain, especially pain caused by Voldemort’s wand.

Not this one, Voldemort understands. No, violence will only be met with violence, here.

Voldemort will need a different approach.

[bordysbae]

could you do 1. "you're the only one who can calm him down" with Alex Turcotte :)

“the fight”

alex turcotte x reader

“oh my god! i cant see, whats happening?!” you exclaim, immediately panicking as you see your boyfriend down on the ice throwing tons of punches at the opposing player. his mother is right by your side in the box. she’s freaking out as well, but not nearly as much as you. she’s seen alex get into many fights over his lifetime of playing hockey, but it’s still scary no matter what. the ref finally intervenes, and alex is taken off of the ice. as your angered boyfriend is taken off, he’s still yelling things at both the ref and the other player. seeing this, you let out a sigh, and so do both of his parents. “oh alex, what happened?” you ask under your breath, as if he can even hear you.

a few minutes later someone comes to your guys’ box, and requests that you come with him to see alex. “am i even allowed back there?” you ask meanwhile frantically trying to keep up with the man’s pace. he nods his head before answering, “yeah, especially in this case. he keeps saying something about how ‘y/n is the only one who can calm me down,’” the man says. a little smile lifts your lips after heading that statement. you then show your badge to the security and he lets you both in, leading you to where alex is. he’s pacing around the lockeroom, hands in his hair while also covering his face.

“alex? are you okay?”’you ask hesitantly, afraid his anger will lash out again. you know he would never try to hurt you, or honestly even yell at you, but sometimes people have no control of their emotions. immediately he feels a touch of relief when he sees your face, but when he senses the smallest bit of fear in your tone, a wave of guilt crushes him.

“y/n, hi,” he says, immediately pulling you into a tight hug. his gear doesn’t smell the best, but it’s not at all the right time to make a joke. of course you hug him back, and immediately feel the tension in his muscles. a clear sign something wasn’t right. “alex love, what happened out there?” you timidly ask, afraid of what he might say.

“he slammed me into the boards so hard, but when i slam him back he starts punching me!? so now i look like the bad guy cause people only really saw me punching him! but the weird thing is, i just couldn’t stop? it’s like something overtook me,” he states, clearly embarrassed at his overreaction on the ice.

“hey, don’t be embarrassed al. you were angry, and that’s okay. you’ve gotten injured too many times and you’re finally back in the nhl, so of course you’re gonna be upset if someone risks hurting you again. just maybe don’t hurt them back next time, just let it go and be cool. the last thing you need is to get sat out for the next few games,” you say, and alex groans knowing that you’re right.

“i’m probably already gonna get sat out after all that shit i pulled. god, why am i so fucking stupid?!” he angrily chuckles, pacing the room once again. you grab onto his left wrist, and roll up the sleeve of his jersey. you trace the roman numerals that are tattooed into his skin, “alex, you’re not dumb. remember what your grandfather used to say?” you ask, still tracing the roman numerals he got inked for his grandfather.

“there’s no dumb people, just dumb decisions,” he mumbles, annoyed that you’re always right.

“exactly. you’re not dumb nor are you stupid. you just made a dumb decision. that’s it. now, since you’re out for the rest of the game, why don’t you go cool off in the shower and i’ll meet you after the game, okay?”

“yeah, okay. thank you y/n. i love you so so much. you always know how to calm me down,” he smiles, pressing a soft but intimate kiss onto your temple.

“i love you more, al.”

[fics-by-em]

Amorous Facades - Chapter Four

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

———-

previous chapter

———-

The atmosphere at AFC Richmond was very different the second time Lia was there. 

The feelings of dread and pure anxiety that she’d felt when Jamie had dragged her into Rebecca’s office less than a week earlier were gone and replaced by a tentative excitement that - based on the vibe of anticipation that she felt buzzing around her - was shared by all of the staff, team and fans who were present. Even for someone who wasn’t particularly interested in the sport, the feeling was electric and Lia was intrigued to see how the match would unfold.

After parting ways with Jamie by the locker room, she navigated her way through the building to Rebecca’s office where she’d arranged to meet Keeley. She’d been told that they would be sitting in the owner’s box with Rebecca for the game, but they had some time to kill first and Lia was feeling a little bit nervous. Keeley and Rebecca had seemed very nice in the brief amount of time that she’d spent with them - they hadn’t laughed hysterically at her for being dumb enough to partake in a drunken ‘wedding’ and they’d been supportive as she’d tried to work out the details of the arrangement with Jamie - but they also appeared to be quite accomplished women. While they were also older than Lia and therefore had had more time to get established, her current lack of ambitious goals had her feeling a little intimidated by such strong and confident women.

However, the moment she walked into the office, she felt her worries begin to ease as Keeley’s naturally warm demeanour made it hard to feel on edge.

“Hi, Lia!” She smiled as she waved from where she was relaxing on a couch by the window next to Rebecca as they each had a glass of champagne in hand. “Are you ready for your first AFC Richmond match?”

“My first football match ever actually,” she clarified. “I’m not entirely sure that I’ve ever even watched one on the telly.”

“Well, you certainly dressed appropriately.”

Rebecca gestured to the shirt she was wearing with Jamie’s name and number on the back as she spoke and Lia smiled as she twirled around to show it off. 

“I thought it was what would be expected of Jamie Tartt’s wife,” she informed them. “Even if it’s not the most flattering shirt I’ve ever worn.”

The shirt that Jamie had managed to acquire for her seemed to be at least two sizes too big and she felt like she was drowning in it even with the front tucked into her tight fitted jeans, but the look on Keeley’s face showed that she clearly disagreed.

“You look adorable,” she assured her. “But we can find you one that’s more comfortable for next time. Even though, I think the guys just always find it hot when their girl shows up wearing their number no matter how the shirt actually fits.”

“Well,” Lia shrugged as she joined the two women on the couch. “I’m not actually his girl, am I? So he probably doesn’t really care about that.”

A knowing look was exchanged between Keeley and Rebecca that piqued Lia’s curiosity, but Rebecca spoke before she could question it.

“How is it going with our star striker?” She asked. “Is he treating you well?”

The question had a smile sliding onto Lia’s face as she reflected on their last few days together and she had to admit that he was. The teasing and jokes about her being in love with him had increased since the night that she’d wrapped herself around him in her sleep, but overall things were going well between them and Lia had found that playing house had been fairly enjoyable. It was nice waking up beside someone and navigating around his presence as they went about their morning routines and catching up at the end of every day had started to become something that Lia always looked forward to. It may have only been about a week since they’d been tangled up in each other’s lives, but Lia had a feeling that they were setting the foundation for a pretty solid friendship.

“It’s been going really well, far better than I expected,” she informed them, sharing her thoughts. “I’ll admit that I had very low expectations, but he’s been pretty sweet and definitely tried to make me feel at home in his house.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I’m not surprised,” Keeley smiled despite the relieved look on Rebecca’s face that definitely was laced with shock. “I always knew he could be a gentleman if he wanted to, he just never bothered to try. I think he really does want to be better now though.”

Again, Rebecca’s face said more than enough without her saying a word as she was clearly skeptical of Keeley’s confidence in Jamie, but it did raise a few questions for Lia as well.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asked Keeley, waiting for an enthusiastic nod before she continued. “If he’s changed so much and you believe that he can, doesn’t that make you want to get back together with him?”

Keeley looked taken aback by the question, but Lia waited patiently for her to think it over before she answered.

“No, what we had is over,” Keeley assured her, her voice soft but firm. “Jamie’s changed, but so have I and I’m really happy with Roy. Being with Roy has shown me what I’ve been missing in pretty much every relationship I’ve ever had so I’ll always love Jamie, but we’ll only ever be friends from now on.”

From Jamie’s reaction when she’d broached the subject with him, Lia wasn’t entirely surprised by Keeley’s answer, but the confirmation was comforting.

“Okay, I’m pleased to hear that.”

“Why?” Rebecca smiled, sipping the champagne in her hand. “Because you’re growing fond of him yourself?”

“No!” Lia hoped that the speed with which she protested wouldn’t discredit her at all. “I just wanted to make sure that my agreement with Jamie wasn’t stepping on any toes or getting in the way of anything.”

“You’re definitely not,” Keeley assured her as she flashed her a smirk. “Jamie is all yours, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Thanks.” Lia’s tone was dry as she rolled her eyes before changing the subject. “Can we talk about more important things now? Like maybe a quick rundown of how football actually works? All I know is that they kick the ball around and try to get it in the other team's goal without using their hands.”

“That sums it up quite well,” Rebecca commended her as Keeley nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, and all we have to do is shout things at the right time to make it seem like we know what’s going on,” she added. “Like ‘referee!’ or ‘c’mon Richmond!’.”

The enthusiasm with which Keeley demonstrated the words had a giggle falling from Lia’s lips.

“I think I can handle that,” she assured them. “I’m actually a little bit excited, it’s always fun when you have a team to get behind.”

“It is,” Rebecca agreed with a sigh. “But it can break your heart too. It was much easier when I didn’t care at all whether we won or lost.”

The comment struck Lia as odd considering she was the owner of the team and it was hard to imagine why there would ever have been a time that she didn’t care if the team won, but Keeley chimed in before she could dwell on it for too long.

“Well, we won’t be losing today,” she optimistically declared before tossing back the last of her drink. “Our boys are gonna do great! Shall we head to our seats?”

A glance out the window showed that the stadium was quickly filling up with fans so Lia and Rebecca happily agreed and followed Keeley to the owner’s box.

-

Even for someone who had no idea about the ins and outs of football, Lia had to admit that it was an exciting match. Both teams seemed to be playing in top form - not that she was an expert on the matter - and kept the pace very high. They were constantly back and forth, never staying in one team’s endzone for too long and keeping the score tied at zero as they all thwarted every attempt at scoring a goal.

It took Lia a while to settle in, but Keeley’s continued enthusiasm as she shouted complaints at the referee and support for the team just looked like too much fun to ignore. While Rebecca stayed seated and composed like the classy woman that she was, Lia quickly found herself hopping up beside Keeley to join in with her cheers as much as she could and was surprised by how enjoyable it really was to let loose and show a little enthusiasm.

However, what she enjoyed most of all was simply watching Jamie play. His footwork, his speed, the way he manoeuvered around the pitch. She would have been lying if she said that she wasn’t just a little bit attracted to him as she watched him control the ball so masterfully and he truly exuded raw talent. Which is why she was confused when after a lull in the game the coaches caught Jamie’s attention with the sole purpose of flashing him a very rude gesture.

“Why are they doing that?” Lia asked, frowning and furrowing her brow as she felt a flash of protectiveness over her ‘husband’, but Rebecca and Keeley seemed just as stunned as everyone else as she pushed for more information. “It seems a bit aggressive. Is it common?”

“No,” Rebecca admitted. “Usually they keep things a bit more professional than that…”

“At least on the pitch,” Keeley agreed, but almost as soon as the words left her mouth a look of realization washed over her face. “Oh! Roy told me about this! It’s a signal!”

“A signal for what?”

“For Jamie to start being a prick.”

The explanation did little to help Lia’s understanding, but it sounded like the team had some kind of plan and it wasn’t just another way for Roy to pick on Jamie so she sat back to watch it all unfold. Jamie immediately ran over to a player on the opposite team and while it didn’t seem unusual - it just looked like he was blocking him - it became obvious as soon as Jamie had the ball that he had said something that irritated the other player as he chased him down before sliding under his feet and sending him flying. Lia gasped as concern flooded through her while Keeley jumped up once again shouting ‘referee!’ until they finally called a penalty. However, the consequences didn’t appear to be strong enough for the other team as the man who’d unfairly tackled him lost his cool and went for Jamie again and Lia felt another strange jolt of protectiveness and indignation at the way Jamie was being treated even though it was clear that he was perfectly capable of handling the situation himself  - a fact that was confirmed as Rebecca chuckled and shook her head.

“Oh, Jamie,” she sighed affectionately. “One thing is for sure, that man knows how to get under people’s skin.”

“And luckily,” Keeley added. “He can sometimes channel it for good.”

“But he’s so far away from the goal. He can’t score from there, can he?”

It seemed impossible in Lia’s uninformed opinion, but her question earned a smirk from Keeley as she comfortingly squeezed her shoulder.

“If anyone can do it, Jamie Tartt can.”

It surprised Lia how invested she felt as she turned her attention back to the match. She found herself holding her breath as she watched Jamie line up the shot and she gripped onto Keeley as they watched the ball sail through the air before slamming perfectly into the net in a way that seemed to defy physics. Instinctively, they joined the crowd and leapt to their feet as they cheered for the team along with the entire stadium of fans and Lia was relieved to realize that attending football matches might not be as tedious as she’d anticipated.

-

The rest of the game only solidified that realization for Lia as it was quite a rollercoaster of emotions. It wasn’t long after Richmond scored that one of the coaches left the pitch and that proved to be distracting enough to the players for the other team to seize the opportunity and tie up the score. It also distracted Rebecca enough to have her standing from her seat and excusing herself - presumably to figure out what was going on with her coaching staff - but before Lia could ask any questions, Keeley drew her attention back to the chaos on the field. Despite their moment of floundering, Richmond had quickly regrouped and it wasn’t long before another goal from Jamie led them to victory.

Again, Lia and Keeley leapt from their seats to join the crowd in their celebrations and Lia laughed as the sounds of Jamie’s name sung to the tune of Baby Shark echoed around them.

“C’mon,” Keeley smiled, linking their arms. “Let’s go see our boys.”

Without waiting for Lia to agree, Keeley pulled her away from their seats and through the stadium and Lia held on tightly to her new friend as the once quiet hallways were suddenly swarming with people. The atmosphere was incredible as the excited chants from enthusiastic fans could be heard coming from all directions, but Lia was very grateful to have a guide navigating her through the maze of corridors and people until they made it down to the area where the locker room was. It was quieter down there, but chaotic in a different way as the reporters were swarming the area, preparing for the upcoming press conference or hoping to catch a player and wrangle a good quote about the match.

Keeley protectively tightened her grip and picked up her pace as she tried to skirt around the edge of the crowd, but they were forced to come to an abrupt stop as a man stepped right into their path.

“Trent Crimm, the Independent,” he introduced himself, flashing them a disarmingly friendly smile. “And you must be the lovely Mrs. Tartt. It’s wonderful to meet you.”

“Careful, Lia. He’s nice, but that’s what makes him dangerous.”

Keeley’s warning was murmured under her breath, but the chuckles that it earned from the man in front of them told them it had clearly been overheard.

“There’s no danger here,” he assured them. “But I am wondering if you have any comment on what Jamie’s father had to say about your recent nuptials?”

She felt Keeley tense beside her which only made the panic that had immediately flooded through her even stronger. She didn’t have a comment ready because she didn’t know that Jamie’s father had said anything about their ‘marriage’. Jamie had told her that he didn’t speak to his dad very often so she wasn’t sure if he ever got around to letting him in on the secret that it wasn’t actually real or what exactly had happened between them that led to the distance Jamie had alluded to. Luckily, Keeley’s marketing training kicked in before Lia could blurt out anything embarrassing.

“What exactly did he say?” She asked. “We aren’t aware of any comments made by Jamie's family.”

“Well,” Trent started, looking a bit sheepish as he referred to the notes in his hand. “He said that you are a gold digging whore who’s only after Jamie for his money and his…well, a certain part of his anatomy.”

The panic that Lia had felt was quickly replaced by complete humiliation. Even if her arrangement with Jamie could be considered questionable to some people, she wasn’t the kind of person that Jamie’s dad had described. She didn’t choose men based on their money and she certainly wasn’t after Jamie for any parts of his anatomy. There were many things she wanted to say in response to such an accusation, but she knew that it was a delicate situation and she didn’t want to say anything that might cause any repercussions for Jamie so she tried to control her emotions despite the scoff that slipped from her lips.

“No, I have nothing to say to that,” she informed him, standing a little bit taller in an attempt to seem more confident in her words. “But I will say that I love Jamie and we’re very happy together.”

Trent nodded as he jotted down what she’d said, seemingly satisfied by her answer. The way that he didn’t press her for more information made her realize what Keeley meant by his niceness being dangerous as she felt more inclined to add further explanation, but she was grateful when the trained PR expert by her side thanked Trent for his time and dragged her away from him before she could say anything that she regretted.

“You handled that perfectly,” Keeley commended her as they paused in the hallway just outside the locker room. “It’s always best not to give a comment, but what you said was amazing given how he put you on the spot.”

“Really?” Lia asked, breathing a sigh of relief at her reassurance. “Jamie hasn’t told me much about his dad so I didn’t want to say too much, but just sticking to ‘no comment’ didn’t seem like enough.”

“You nailed it,” Keeley insisted, flashing her a comforting smile. “But if I was you, I wouldn’t mention what Trent said to Jamie just yet. If he doesn’t know about it then it will ruin his night and if he does know then it’ll just be a reminder of something that will piss him off.”

“Okay,” Lia nodded, but knowing that she’d have to bring it up at some point had her pushing for more information. “What’s the story with his father?”

“That’s not my story to tell and I don’t even know all the details, if I’m honest. Jamie really doesn’t like to talk about it and talking was never high on our priority list if you know what I mean.”

The admission was made sheepishly, but Lia respected Keeley’s decision to keep whatever she did know to herself. If Jamie wanted her to know then he would tell her when he was ready and she didn’t want to pry - even if she now had her own concerns about his dad’s behaviour.

“I respect that,” Lia nodded. “I won’t say anything to him about it right now”

“Perfect,” Keeley smiled. “Now, let’s forget all about that and go celebrate how fuckin’ talented our men are.”

Again, she didn’t wait for a response before she threw open the locker room door and the raucous sounds of celebration hit them full force.

“Hello, boys!” Keeley cheered. “Congratulations!”

Her greeting was met with nothing but enthusiasm as the boys bounced around the room singing a song about Richmond. It was a heartwarming sight, but Lia could feel herself shrinking as if she was almost trying to hide behind Keeley - a move that tended to be her instinct whenever she was in a large group of people. She was perfectly satisfied just watching from the sidelines - more of a wallflower than the life of the party - and while she was happy to be there and share in their joy, she wasn’t eager to have anyone’s attention on her. However, her ‘husband’ had no shame when it came to wanting to be the centre of attention and he quickly reminded her of that conflict in their personalities.

“There she is!” He called out, flashing her a smirk as he moved across the room towards her. His arm slid around her waist and effortlessly pulled her away from Keeley until she was pressed against his chest. “There’s my girl.”

The possessiveness to his words had Lia’s cheeks heating up, but before she even had time to really process what was happening, Jamie leaned down and captured her lips with his. At first, she tensed with surprise, but she quickly realized what he was doing. They had an audience and appearances to keep up. So, she played the role of supportive girlfriend who was wrapped up in the excitement of an amazing victory and let her arms slide up around his neck as she moved her lips against his.

It felt far more natural than she would have expected - especially considering she had no real memory of any of the genuine kisses they’d shared the night they met - but it was easy to let herself indulge. The feel of his toned body under her touch, the pressure of his grip on her waist, even the smell of his sweat that lingered from the match, it all felt so manly and had her knees feeling weak as she melted against him. All too soon, the sounds of the team jokingly jeering at them pulled them out of the moment and Lia moved out of the embrace.

“Lads,” Jamie grinned, keeping an arm around her waist as he turned back to face his team. “This is my girlfriend, Lia. Lia, this is the team.”

There was a chorus of hellos and nice to meet yous as Lia shyly waved at the large group of men in front of her, but the pure shock on the faces of Keeley and Rebecca and Roy - who were standing in the doorway of the office - didn’t escape her notice. They were the only people in the room who knew the extent of their little arrangement and that they weren’t actually dating so it wasn’t entirely surprising that they might have some questions after witnessing a kiss like the one she’d just shared with Jamie, but she was grateful when Jamie whisked her off before they could ask her anything. Her head was spinning enough without trying to explain to anyone what just happened.

And the rest of the evening did nothing to ease her muddled state of mind as Jamie so effortlessly slid into the roll of her boyfriend.

As the celebrations unfolded in the locker room and beers were passed around for the team, Jamie made sure that he always had a hand on her until he eventually settled on the bench in front of his locker and pulled her down into his lap. Again, she was tense and uncertain at first, but just like before, she quickly relaxed as Jamie mindlessly rubbed his thumb against her skin where her shirt had slightly ridden up. He was so effortless with his physical affection and Lia was so touch starved that it was hard not to just embrace the sensation of someone’s hands on her body.

Even as the party moved on and the team headed to a pub - parting ways with the increasingly suspicious group of Keeley, Roy and Rebecca - Jamie continued his act as a doting boyfriend and Lia found herself feeling completely charmed. Gone was the cocky attitude he’d returned to during the match and any trace of the arrogance that had popped up throughout their conversations over their week together. The Jamie she was with that night was nothing short of enchanting. He pulled out her chair, he ordered her drinks - non-alcoholic so she could drive some of the boys home after their well-earned celebration - and he held her hand even when it was under the table and out of sight. He stole soft kisses as frequently as the opportunity arose, and he looked at her so fondly that by the time they were leaving the bar later that night, she was starting to feel a flicker of something in her heart that made her wonder if they could possibly have something more real than the facade they were supposed to be upholding.

However, almost as soon as they walked back into their house when they finally got home, something shifted in Jamie. His posture stiffened, his body language became more closed off and the adoring smile that had been on his face all evening was replaced by a tight lipped frown.

“You did well tonight, yeah?” He commended her. “You’re a great actress.”

The words were sincere and yet Lia felt her heart sink as the realization washed over her like she’d been doused with a bucket of cold water. That’s all it had been to him - just an act - and that made sense because it was what they’d agreed on. He didn’t owe her any more than that and it wasn’t his fault that she was so deprived of intimacy that she’d got swept up in the moment.

“Thanks,” she murmured, forcing a smile despite the disappointment twisting her stomach into knots. “You did well too. And you were amazing in the match. You really earned that win.”

The compliment earned a weak smile and a ‘thanks’ in response, but the exhaustion was clear on Jamie’s face as he changed the subject.

“Do you mind if I take a quick shower before bed?”

“No, not at all, go ahead.”

Jamie nodded and made a quick escape up the stairs towards their bedroom and Lia stood frozen in turmoil by the front door. She waited until she heard the shower running to follow him and raced through her bedtime routine so she could be curled up pretending to be asleep in bed by the time he was done. In some ways, she was relieved that Jamie had managed to remind her of their boundaries before she could have said anything foolish, but she couldn’t shake the conflicting feelings bubbling up inside her and was hopeful that a good night’s sleep would help her wake up feeling refreshed and more level headed about the situation.

Because otherwise she was going to have a very difficult time existing platonically around Jamie for the rest of their little arrangement.

-----

chapter five

[tyo-mimt]

22/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Who put a fireplace in the lair?

"Who did this?"

The fireplace sat smack dab in the middle of the lair. It wasn't here the night before... And weirdly enough, it was the whole fireplace minus the ash pit and flue. It was a snow day, both today and the day before, which meant that almost everyone here stayed in the lair throughout the whole time. Even more so, almost everyone was present and accounted for, which made this case all the more difficult.

"I'm not mad," Donnie emphasised, "I just want to know."

Mikey slowly approached the fire box, peeking through it and up the smoke chamber. "It's not like anyone topside's falling through it; why can't we just keep it?"

"Because it clashes with the vibe of the lair and looks like an accident waiting to happen."

"Yah, and no one else can reasonably carry four hundred pounds worth of bricks." Leo side-eyed Raph at that. Everyone immediately turned to the snapping turtle.

It's time for the blame game.

Indignant, he gasped and pointed back at Leo. "Where would Raph get so many bricks? It makes more sense for the guy with the portal powers to bring that whole thing here!"

"I'm flattered you think I can build a fireplace in a night with a single hand; be real, Raph! Why don't you look at the tech wiz?"

"J'accuse! Why would I build a non-functional solely-for-aesthetic-purposes fireplace when I've installed perfectly functional heaters around the lair?"

April slid over to Donnie's side; she didn't even whisper quietly enough, "Not to point fingers but doing things for the sake of chaos sounds more like Mikey's thing..."

"April! Come on! Do you think I could really do all this in a single night!?"

"Did you just steal my defense?"

"This ain't about you, Leo," Mikey defended, jabbing him in the forehead, "'sides, you don't only have one hand all the time!"

"Fair, but hey!"

"All the evidence clearly points to you, Nardo."

"I don't even have a reason to build a fireplace here!"

Everyone paused. "Huh, good point..."

"Yes, thank you, Raph," The slider drawled, walking over and patting the snapping turtle on the shoulder, "Now let's point fingers at the ones who stayed suspiciously quiet the whole time."

Multiple heads snapped towards the Caseys. CJ raised his arms. "Hey! I didn't even know what a fireplace was until now!"

Cassandra paused, pointing back at her accusers. "And you four- five- six are the ones with mystic powers!"

"And you both of you can kick all of our butts without breaking a sweat."

Cassandra visibly preened at that. "Flattery will get you nowhere!"

Before anyone else could open their mouth, the fireplace made a dull thud. It trickled down the smoke chamber; before Mikey could get crushed, he jumped backward. Someone fell through after all... But they didn't have to worry too much.

"Santa!?"

"We've been over this, Mikey, Santa isn't real..."

"Then explain why I, the Jolly Roger, am here." There's no mistaking that signature deadpan tone. The smoke cleared properly and they all could see Draxum's silhouette robed in a poor imitation of Santa Claus.

"The rat told me this would be a good idea, I'm beginning to think he played me for a fool."

Heads turned to Splinter, who held a camera in his hands. "Oh, yeah, this definitely was to make you look dumb."

He tossed it aside, clambering onto the yokai and pulling the sack out of his hands. "Well! Because all of you have worked so hard throughout the past year, Draxum decided to treat you all."

Leo caught a wrapped present thrown in his direction. "Huh; didn't think Barry was capable of generosity."

"My being here is an act of generosity."

"Yeah, yeah, we love you, too, dad!"

[microraptorreactor]

Spire's Destiny Experience 3: Who Burned Down The Library?

So for starters, I've skipped to D2. D1 was fun, but I was struggling due to my shitty PS4. Combined with finding out that the Grimoire is not easily accessible, and how im going to have to spend money on abandonware if i want to find out about Skinny Jeans Robot through anything other then a wiki page, I decided I got what I needed. I have friends who play D2, so the jump seemed easier.

(I might revisit it for Exo Stranger. She was really cool.)

for what's left of D1: I was getting into it with the whole plot about Razputin the massive supercomputer, then hit a wall with a vex fight that was definitely intended for more then one player. When talking to a friend about it (who has played destiny in the past) she said I should just skip to D2. (Tbf she was more then a little biased bc she wanted to play the game with me and didn't have a PS4.)

But now for a rant: who's idea was the grimoire. Who put all the lore in a box that is also super susceptible to web rot. They should have used Warframe's codex, which is hosted in the game and won't evaporate unless the game also disappears.

But anyways, Vex cool, Exo Stranger extra cool (I am gay for her), the awaken sure are. a group of people.

D2 thoughts: I wish I got this thorough of an opening with D1. I now know what's happening. That's nice lol.

This is just the same opening but with less snow. Labeling my new exo (who is exactly the same as the old one) Pyre-20. Her ass got rebooted.

They changed the intro from when I played this in like 2019. Who is this man. I dislike him already. Why did he get separated from his squad. Why couldn't he just go with them? I appreciate him trying to keep me out of harms way though. Too bad Pyre-20 is NOT listening to his ass.

Then my friend logged on and we played half the recap quests. RIP Cayde-6 you were a dumb fuck back there but clearly people liked you. They sure gave this himbo a whole lot of political importance huh. (Who adopted the hunters after their collective uncle died?)

Exo stranger is still so cool. Love her.

[couldbebetterforsure]

Okay folks I’m back from my vacation, so now I can go back to posting about my Jack Jeanne playthrough!!!! I finished the Fall Performance before my vacation but I didn’t have time to post my thoughts before I left, so let’s get to it then!

Man, Mary Jane as a play was so creepy and wild and enjoyable! I loved how it managed to be both fucked up and lighthearted at the same time??? Also it just may have my favorite play related CGs so far because WOW there were some fantastic CGs for this play!!! Mary Jane herself is such a fun and sad character in how lonely she is and how warped she is by that loneliness, and yet how kind she also is. Fumi yet again did a wonderful job in this role! All the ghosts managed to be funny and sweet characters. Suzu, Neji, Mitsuki, and Otori did wonderfully (while also having the funniest costumes I let out such a dumb laugh when I saw Suzu’s)! Otori I think you’re meant for the weird roles, just embrace your fate…And man were Figaro and Charles just sooooo delightfully unhinged! Kisa, my girl, she truly did a masterful job in her second Jack role and that maniacal laugh of hers was fucking incredible. But Sou…fucking Soshiro Yonaga…holy fucking shit!!!! More on him later….But anyways the pair were also pitiful in that along with their hatred of ghosts, it’s understandable that they were so angry at Mary specifically for (albeit unknowingly) using their friends’ corpses to make Jacob and man Figaro going absolutely batshit after Charles died because that’s his brother, his twin…What absolutely fun villains! Well at least they can be together as ghosts, right?

Some more A+ music from the play! A Friend Without a Name was such a lovely tune, reminded me in many ways of a music box. Fumi and Kai had some wonderful choreography for this song. Hallelujah Shout the name of God, My Friends was my favorite of the three for sure! I loved how it shifted so much and the way Kisa, Sou, and Fumi’s voices all came together! Ghost Party is a very close second, it’s so damn catchy!!! Like I wasn’t really feeling it when I heard the instrumental during the practice but when I got to hear the actual performance I was bouncing along so much I fucked up the rhythm game 😂😂😂 Still got the SS rank though ✌️ Then again, I am playing the rhythm games on normal mode, which is SUPER forgiving regarding how much you can fuck up and still get the best rank.

And good GRIEF the drama going on with Quartz throughout all of this! I mentioned this earlier but the sheer shock I felt when the cast list first came out and Sou didn’t get a named role. I truly didn’t expect that to happen! I figured there’s no way that doesn’t change, it doesn’t seem right, but I was getting worried there as we got closer and closer to performance day! The buildup to what happened with Sou for the Fall Performance had been building up slowly, like I’ve said before he’s shown he’s getting frustrated with his performance on stage. Especially when compared to how Kisa and Suzu, his two closest friends in Univeil, have been performing in the last two plays…I said before that what he needed was the chance to prove himself in a role that truly clicked for him. But then he wasn’t given a named role for Mary Jane…And geez you see how badly that destroys him despite him trying to stay his polite and soft spoken self, to the point of even ignoring Kisa and Suzu. Which all comes to a head when Suzu and Sou have their big fight, which leads to Sou being the loudest I’ve ever heard him at that point in the game. While I was so uncomfortable in that fight because “nooo boys please you’re friends don’t do this 😭😭😭”, I liked that I could get both sides of the argument. Because on Suzu’s end one of his closest friends has suddenly started ignoring him and won’t explain anything and it’s also clearly hurting another one of their mutual friends (Kisa), while on Sou’s end his insecurities and frustration at how his own efforts aren’t matching up to what he wants and how his friends are seemingly getting where they want to be so easily and seemingly aren’t as gutted by disappointment made him reach his breaking point.

Coupled with Sou’s drama is Suzu’s own drama. Suzu struggling to play a villain role so unlike who he is, a cunning guy. Gosh when I heard Suzu was gonna okay a villain I was sooooooooo hyped!!! He struggled but that’s the thing about Suzu, he struggles but he gets there eventually because he doesn’t stop trying. I was so ready to see him as the cunning and arrogant Jean Jose!!! But then…his injury…You know I remembered a while back a random Suzu event I saw had him mention a scar on his ankle if I remember right, and I was like 👀 at that info but then it was never brought up again so I thought it was just a random fun fact or something. But then as the weeks went on for the Fall Performance, Suzu was shown occasionally struggling with his foot. I actually thought maybe he sprained it in that early practice scene but then I remembered that scar thing and was like “👀👀👀👀👀 oh????? is it related?!?!?!?!??!?!!?!!” And then BAM!!! My poor sweet boy’s ankle couldn’t hold out anymore…Gosh that reveal that he had to give up kendo because of how bad the injury was…And how acting, specifically Univeil performances, gave him a reason to keep going again and a new dream…But now his ankle gave out and now there’s that chance acting could be taken from him too. I wonder if we’ll get more info on his injury, specifically what caused it. Because I admit I’m not too familiar with kendo but I’ve seen some pictures and stuff of it, and I can’t figure out what on earth happened to Suzu that injured him THAT badly. Based on a convo with Neji earlier, I can guess either he or the person he was sparring with wasn’t careful enough but I’d like more details. But yeah seeing how much of a brave face he was putting on, especially when he was cleared to come back but no longer had a role in the play. That scene between him and Kisa when he admits how scared he is murdered me…My poor sweetheart….

Also the way that before the fight was officially cleared up between Suzu and Sou the two of them were already friends again. Sou wanting to practice all the play lines to help Suzu and Kisa with rehearsals while Suzu told Neji to give the role to Sou if he couldn’t stand on stage himself. The way Suzu had no hard feelings towards Sou about being replaced. Sou at the end of the performance telling Suzu that HE is the one Sou doesn’t wanna lose to most 😭😭😭😭 I love all of Quartz so much but the first years are special to me because they really are the best friend trio.

And maaaan, Quartz really does have the best senpai in the world!!! Mitsuki, Fumi, and Kai all helping out Suzu, Kisa, and Sou respectively regarding the fight. Mitsuki and Fumi both standing up to Utsuri and Kakuto when they wanted to start shit with poor Kisa. The fact that Neji at the last moment added an entirely new character to the play just so that Suzu wouldn’t be left out! I mean when they changed the okay so that Sou would play Figaro and as Charles’ brother instead, Neji only needed to fix stuff related to that. But he also went and gave Suzu a new role that wouldn’t stress his ankle out because he knew that despite Suzu trying to be lighthearted about it he desperately wanted to stand on the stage too. For all that Neji thrives on chaos he’s much kinder than he lets on ☺️

Anyways, Sou’s acting in Mary Jane was nuts, absolutely bonkers. The way he kept such a calm tone for most of the play before starting to yell some lines once Figaro and Charles revealed their true purpose. And then…the masterpiece…Figaro’s screaming after Charles died….I truly thought Sou was gonna throw his voice out with how absolute batshit those screams were. How did his VA manage to NOT destroy his voice??? And the CG that accompanied that moment? Perfection. You know half of the audience went home and had nightmares after that. But yeah I was right, Sou got the role that clicked for him. He got to showcase what he’s made of and I can only hope he’ll improve from here! And he deserved that reward, I would’ve entered this game and fought all of Univeil if he didn’t get anything after that performance. Also I really loved Fumi finally getting a chance to be free and not be so tied down from being Quartz’s responsible senpai and getting to truly showcase his skill by competing with Kisa and Sou.

Final note, while I loved Mary Jane and think everything that went down in the Fall Performance arc was great, I’m sad we never got Jean Jose realized. I wanted to see my boy Suzu play a villain role 😞😞😞 Neji, babe, please come through for me and give me the gift of villain Suzu for the Winter Performance! Please do me this one solid, Neji 🙏

[youreallyshouldtalkmore]

Fiasco of BBQ

A.N: Since I started the game, I’ve always had this in the back of my head. Inspired by Robe Epel vignette. Since I got him at the start of the game, I wanted to wait to learn Vil and Rook before writing. So after a year, I finally have this crackpot story with my TWST OC Mia.

Twisted Wonderland Masterlist  

——————————————————

Mia barely reacted when the Ramshackle Dorm door opened and then shut promptly. Within a blink, she had Epel standing over the counter in the kitchen. 

“Is it here?” he asked, his eyes wide, searching. 

Mia had already opened the box, and the bag within. 

His eyes shined, “BBQ!!” 

Mia giggled, “Yep, the package of BBQ your grandma sent is here along with a couple bottles of apple juice!” 

But Epel had no eyes for the juice as he licked his lips. Mia had already taken the initiative to began plating the food and slide a plate towards Epel.  

“Sank vus, ‘ia!!” Epel cried around a bite of barbecue. 

“I can’t take this anymore!! Epel, I want a piece!!” Grim finally busted out from where he had been hovering moodily. 

“Elp, o’selves!” 

“I would have, but Mia said I had to ask!” 

“It’s call manners, Grim! His grandmother sent this for him, not you!” 

“And yet, it’s in our dorm.” 

“You know if he had his grandma sent it to Pomefiore, Vil would confiscate it. We came up with this hush-hush plan.” Mia stated with a roll of her eyes. 

“Yes, you didn’t even tell me!!” 

“We had a need for secrecy, something you know nothing about, my little Grimling.” 

“Ah! Never mind that!!” Grim waved it away, “I will help myself to a piece as a token of my kindness of allowing this dorm to be used as a base.”

“Now you sound like the Headmage”, Mia murmured before snapping, “Only two pieces, Grim!! This is Epel’s! Get it straight!!” 

“Just two?!” Grim shrieked as he had picked up a bone in each hand. 

Mia rolled his eyes. Typical of Grim, to worry about the amount of food he could get when he only had two hands and one mouth. 

Epel only grinned, “It’s fine! Boy howdy, am I grateful for you being my partner in crime, Mia. I appreciate it. I haven’t had BBQ since I’ve enrolled! And I couldn’t disrespect Meemaw and not eat it, could I?” 

Mia laughed as she poured a glass of juice for Epel, “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Epel.” 

Epel pointed at the box before taking another bite, “Make sure you have some too, Mia. It’s the least I can do! And it’s great to just eat without have to follow stuffy protocol!” 

Mia turned to plate her some when she gasped in horror, “It’s Vil!! And Rook is right behind him!” 

Epel choked, “What?! Wait, what do I do?”

“About what?” Grim asked lazily.  

“If Vil finds me…wait, I’m not finished yet!” Epel seemed more panic about not having finished eating, then Vil finding him as his eyes became larger than his head. 

“Grim, quick! Stall them!” Mia grabbed the cups and the juice and told Epel to pick up his plate and the box of barbecue. 

“Why do I have to?” groused Grim, “What am I supposed to do? Hey!! Why are you taking my plate?!” 

“Just stall 'em and if they want to enter. Let them!” 

“What are we doing?” Epel cried. 

“With me!” Mia cried before running off, followed by Epel. 

A firm knock on the door resounded before Grim grumbled and went to answer it. 

“What?” he snarked when he threw open the door. 

Vil only eyed him, “I take it from the stench that a wayward henchmen has made off with the goods.” 

Grim only blinked, “What?” 

“Don’t play, dumb, Grim. Where is Epel? I need to have a word.” 

“Such a passionate stirring I felt as we walked up.” Rook commented, “There was a shift in the wind.”  

“Over a box of meat?” Vil questioned, “Does that really require passion? Never mind, clearly he needs passion to stop from stuffing himself.” 

“Are you coming or going?” Grim asked drolly, “I have food to get back to.”

“I shall stay a moment.” 

“Suit yourself. Mia said all I had to do was stall you. I did my job, so I’m going back to my food. MIA, WHERE IS MY BBQ BONE?!” 

Vil winced at the volume and reached up to massage his temple once, “For the love of….” 

Rook clapped once, “Quite a set of lungs, Grim. Beaute! I give it 100 points!!”

Vil just glared over his shoulder at Rook before stepping into the dorm. He made a beeline for the kitchen but as expected, Mia and Epel weren’t there. He could see them running around from the window as he walked up. 

All he had to do was follow the stench. 

His heels clacked as he walked up the stairs. 

“Mia! I did my job! Give me my plate!” 

Vil heard Grim and followed the voice. It led him to an open door. Huh, this was Mia’s room. 

She was laying on the bed, nonchalantly, reading a book. 

She looked up when Vil stepped into the doorway, “Oh, hey Vil. What brings you by?” 

Vil just glared at her before looking over at Epel who was sitting on the floor. He froze once before grinning and biting off a huge hunk of meat, “O’ey Vil!! Wa’t some? I’s good!!” 

Vil saw the challenge in Epel’s eyes. He clearly thought himself safe. Rook only looked on, amused. He was quite eager to see how this was going to play out. 

“So, what do we have here?” Vil’s voice was deceptively calm, “Mia, I never thought you would be roped into such foolishness.” 

Mia put the book on the dresser as she sat up and crossed her legs over the side of the bed, “What do you mean?” 

“Let’s not play games, Mia. You deliberately helped Epel smuggle this into his system. The amount he’s eating will take some time to make right.” 

“You make it sound as if he's doing drugs or something.” 

Vil crossed his arms,“Or something.” 

“That’s great. Look, this is a Pomefiore problem and as a Ramshackle student I don’t have any say in the matter. Just one tiny thing I want to bring your attention to, dorm leader. You are in Ramshackle Dorm, so the food is now property of said dorm.” 

Grim crowed, “If need be, I don’t mind hiding the contraband!” 

Mia ignored him and continued, “But more importantly, this is my room and to get Epel, you need to come in, which you don’t have permission to do. So we need to ask ourselves, is Vil Schoenheit, the type of gentleman to walk into a lady's room uninvited? What would the Fair Queen think about that?” 

Epel kept eating as Mia talked, but he could see a storm of fury descend upon a Vil, but as ever, he kept in control. He saw the slight twitching of his eyebrow. Mia was really pushing the limits. He had been quite shocked to see that Mia’s plan involved hiding him in her room. 

Well, not really hiding him, persay. 

At first, he was a little flabbergasted as he nor any of the other boys had ever set foot in her room, not even when they stayed over for the SDC. He didn’t quite know where Mia was going with this, but she pointed to the floor and told him to finish his food and leave the rest to her. 

So this was the rest? 

Epel cackled deep in his heart but he couldn’t help the grin as he continued to eat. This was really some of the best BBQ he had in quite some time. 

And there was a show to go with it? Ha-ha!! 

“Oooh lala!! Merveilleux!! You were quick to use your wits to force such a stalemate! To enter would be to spit in the face of the Fair Queen, as it would not be a thing of beauty at all!” Rook cried, almost twirling in place, “Well played, Mia, Epel!! Well played!!” 

Vil just glowered at Rook over his shoulder. He did not need the commentary at the moment, thank you very much! 

Rook was undeterred, “What is the Fair Queen to do?” 

Vil slowly fixed his glare back on Epel as his voice was deceptively sweet, “You have to come out of this room sometime. Either to go home or to go to the restroom. This will only afford you a few hours at most.” 

Epel shuddered once before holding his chin up, “I already went to the restroom before coming, and it’s enough time to eat the food my precious Meemaw sent.” 

Vil was steely eyed, “Epel, when I get done with you, you will have regrets, I promise you.” 

Epel glared, “Do your worst!” He took a big bite and purposely chewed sloppy. 

Mia held back her laughter, dropping her chin. 

“As for you….” 

Her head snapped back to Vil as she gave a serene smile. 

“....You are correct. This is a stalemate. One I will not even break if he comes out this room. He is on Ramshackle terrority and unfortunatly that means, as prefect, you have the final say. I won’t break this stalemate until he comes out of this dorm. To that end...Rook….” Vil turned around gracefully and Rook mocked bowed, “....you are to stationed here until he deems himself to come out. After that, you are to drag him back to our dorm. You are free to use any method at your disposal!” 

“It will be as you command, your highness!” 

Mia really did snort then. She couldn’t believe barbecue meat warranted all this. This was almost the start of a civil war. 

With a parting dark glare into the room, Vil turned and walked out. 

Rook lingered in the doorway, “Was it worth it, young Epel?” 

“Want a piece, Rook?”

Rook shook his head, “Ahh, if Vil smelled such on me, I would be in just as much trouble as you. I do not wish to incur his wrath for myself. Although….100 points! Beaute!! Now, I shall see you after you are finish. And I hope you make it worth my while and allow me to give chase.” Rook gave a mock bow before his eyes glittered with a challenge, as he gave a wink. 

Epel waved a bone, “Of course. You’ll drag me kicking and screaming, promise! After I finish....”   

“And madamosielle Trickster, good day to you!” Rook cried before exiting the premise. 

When they were gone, Mia heaved a sigh as she flopped back on her bed, “I was only 99% that was going to work.” 

“I will never, NEVER forget the look on Vil’s face.” laughed Epel, “You bested him, Mia!! Thank you!! Though, I hate that I dragged you into this. I honestly didn’t think he would come after me like that.” 

At worst he had prepared to return to the dorm to face his punishment. Not his punishment actively seeking him out.  

“Thank me with a bone!”, Mia stated hopping off the bed and coming and sitting down on the floor, “All this chaos and I haven’t even tasted it yet!” 

“I want more!!” Grim whined. 

“Can it, you glutton!!” snapped Mia. 

“Let’s see, I think Grim can have one more!” Epel stated, peering into the box. 

About an hour later, they had their fill and still had some BBQ left over. They were nursing their cup of juice as Epel glanced at the leftovers, “I’m giving the rest to ya’ll.” 

Grim cheered as Mia asked, “You sure?” 

“Positive! Besides, my punishment will begin as soon as I’m dragged to the dorm. I don’t expect to see daylight for a while. Vil will certainly put Rook on my tail. I think that’s how he got the drop so fast. Rook probably notice and reported me. As such, good food shouldn’t be wasted. And besides, I’ve had my fill. It will be enough until the foreseeable future!” 

Epel said all of this as he stood with a smile and began to stretch out his body. Mia looked up at him, “You sure are calm about all of this!” 

“I’ve long since made my peace!” A grin spread on Epel’s face, “Now, I think it’s time to give chase!! Time to put that hunter on his toes!” 

“You can go out the window…” Mia offered standing. 

“Please, Rook is waiting under it.” 

“What, how do you know?” Mia moved to look out the window. 

Sure enough, Rook gave a wave when he saw her. She balked at this. 

Was he there the entire time? 

“How did you know?” Mia asked, looking back at Epel as he moved to the doorway. 

“That would be too elementary. Rook would be disappointed if I made it that easy for him. No, I will slip out the back and give him a chase in the woods. He’ll probably catch me in five minutes, ten minutes if I make it fun for him. Time to test my prowess and work some of this food down. Thank you, Mia!! Wait, where are my manners, let me help you clean up! I’m safe as long as I’m in this dorm, after all.”  

Mia laughed and waved him off, “No big deal! I think you shouldn’t prolong this any longer. I’ll clean up. Just….don’t die too much on me. I want to be able to recognize you tomorrow.” 

Epel hesistated, “You sure?!” 

Mia nodded once. 

“Alright!” Epel cracked his neck and fingers, “See if Rook will let you stall him. I’m off!!” 

Epel flew out of Mia’s room, when she opened the window. 

“Young Epel, has gone out of the back, hasn’t he?” 

Mia cocked her head once. This man was good. She hadn’t even said anything. 

“Good, I will give him a two-minute head start. It’s only fair to have a beautiful game, no?”  

“Why is that human running into the woods?” a voice muttered, “I hope Mia is okay.”  

“Roi des Dragons, Mia is just fine! See! That is Epel, who is poised to try to give me a challenge. So I must bid the two of you adieu. The hunt is on!!!” Rook cried before turning and running past Malleus who just blinked at all this. 

Malleus looked up at the window. 

“Hey Tsunotarou….” Mia called down, leaning on the window sill. 

“Child of Man, is everything alright? I was just walking around when I saw that young human dart into the forest as if a force of nature was propelling him. I was just going to ring the doorbell to alert you and make sure you were alright, but then….” he just trailed off, unable to make any sense of Rook’s words. 

Mia giggled, “No prob. Just a whole thing. Nothing to concern yourself with. Just a fiasco of BBQ.” 

Malleus blinked, “A fiasco of….BBQ?” 

He barely understood the words separately, much less together. 

“Hey, you still walking?” 

“Hm.” 

“Mind if I join you?” 

Malleus smiled as his green eyes glittered, “I would enjoy your company very much!!” 

[gerogerigaogaigar]

Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream

Not quite massively mainstream, but still a step above indie. A little too hazy to just be alternative rock, but not enough to be a full on shoegaze album. Somehow Siamese Dream manages to fall outside of the boxes it was aiming for, but the result is Smashing Pumpkins' most artistically sound release. They're more polished than on Gish, but it just helps put a finer point on their strengths. Corgan's voice is just far enough up on the mix to be fully intelligible, but not dominating it. The guitars are heavily layered and take up all the space they can in the mix whether the gentle acoustics of Sweet Sweet or the intensely heavy Geek U.S.A.. Corgan may be a megalomaniac, but this album really shows that he had a strong artistic vision at one point.

Snoop Dogg - Doggystyle

Where others were trying to be the toughest cop killingest rappers in the game, Snoop opted to be the weed smokingest biggest balls rapper. While still playing in the kayfabe of 90s hip hop he carves out a new niche as a disaffected cool guy who loves weed and doesn't really care what other people think. Snoop stands out from his peers not just because he perfectly embodies the Death Row Records G-Funk sound, but because his attitude necessitated a different type of flow. Snoop is so laid back in his delivery and rarely expresses anything other than mild amusement that anyone would be dumb enough to not want to be him. Somehow the attitude is infectious rather than annoying, and it drives the album to new highs that were unassailable even by Snoop himself who never quite topped his debut.

Janet Jackson - Rhythm Nation 1814

The release of 86s Control cemented Janet Jackson as a pop giant, but it was the follow up that proved she was probably the most talented member of the Jackson family. Fully embracing the New Jack Swing sound that she had pioneered on Nasty, Rhythm Nation is full of funky Hip Hop beats. This album defined pop music in the 90s, practically everyone started incorporating Hip Hop into R&B. But none of the imitators ever found a balance of edginess and sweetness, of hard beats and bubbly pop that Janet Jackson managed on this record.

Brian Eno - Another Green World

This is Brian Eno in transition for sure. The ambient sounds of Discreet Music are barely present, but the quirky pop sensibilities of Here Come The Warm Jets fully abandoned. But there are no stepping stone albums in Eno's discography. Another Green World is just as much a fully fleshed out idea as anything else. In this case ethereal beauty is the driving force. There are still some pop sensibilities on songs like St. Elmo's Fire and I'll Come Running, but they lack the outright goofiness of his earlier work. Instead the album is driven by it's instrumentals and in true Eno fashion there are a swath of guest musicians here to flesh out the sound. Phil Collins, Robert Fripp, Percy Jones, and John Cale all make contributions and it really provides a lush atmosphere. Basically everything that Eno recorded, collaborated on, or produced is a masterpiece and Another Green World is one of his best.

Bob Dylan - John Wesley Harding

I feel like this is an underrated gem from Dylan's collection. It's main claim to fame is that it has the less popular version of All Along The Watchtower. I think Dylan actually nails the depression era hobo folk singer thing that he was clearly going for at the beginning of his career. Dear Landlord, I Am A Lonesome Hobo, and I Pity The Poor Immigrant all have strong Pete Seeger vibes while Drifter's Escape and I'll Be Your Baby Tonight are straight up country songs. It's a sharp turn from his electric era and I think Dylan is at his best when he's taking sharp turns.

Roxy Music - Avalon

I wasn't familiar with this album so I was surprised and quite happy to see that it's wholly unlike any other Roxy Music album I've heard before. Gone is the wry wit and glam quirkiness and in its place is raw romantic sincerity and smooth synths. This album has that sterile synth sound that I associate with albums that 70s prog bands put out in the 80s but it really works here. I think there's just more texture to the sounds, instead of plastic it sounds ethereal, haunted kinda. Like the kind of eerie unease that comes with letting yourself be truly known.

Bob Dylan and The Band - The Basement Tapes

I honestly think that Dylan's work with the band The Band is his best stuff. Both groups compliment each other really well and they seem to let loose when they team up. The basement tapes in particular feel a lot more fun than any other album by either artist on their own. Dylan is bluesier and The Band are a little less maudlin, like they were trying to make music in each other's style and both hit the same middle ground. It's prolly a little long, coming in over 70 minutes of music with an admittedly low level of variety, but the energy will definitely keep any blues rock or folk rock fans engaged for the full run.

Santana - Abraxas

Carlos Santana is a talented but uninspired guitarist. Come at me dads. I actually like this album a lot though. While Santana may only have one and a half guitar solos in his back pocket he also has a good sense for vibes and some great percussion. And his two smash hits are covers that blow the originals out of the water so he's doing something right. I only come down hard because Santana is treated like a guitar god or something and he really isn't but his style has influenced other better guitar players so I won't dismiss him outright.

Bill Withers - Still Bill

Bill Withers had an incredible way of dropping monstrous pop hits and still flying under the radar. It feels like instead of a string of hits he's just a one hit wonder five times in a row. Withers has all of the energy of early 70s funk and all the soul of a 60s Stax release. While overshadowed by some of his contemporaries Withers still should be seen as a titan of Soul music and this album shows it. Even funkier than his debut and led by a couple of beastly good singles. Use Me has the coolest funk grooves and Lean On Me is pretty much the platonic love song of all time.

Elvis Presley - s/t

How can I be even handed when taking about rock and roll's greatest colonizer? This album is unreviewable, do I like the music on it? Yes, I actually do. But even if I hated it you should still listen to it for the historical value. This album marks the beginning of the modern music industry. The sale of Elvis Presley's recording contract to colonel Tom Parker and RCA Records is a moment that changed musical history and this album, the result of that sale, is necessary listening for anyone that cares even a little bit about popular music. Elvis is non negotiable. You can't talk about Rome without talking about Caesar and you can't talk about popular music without talking about Elvis.

[talenlee]

How To Be: Mystque (in 4e D&D)

In How To Be we’re going to look at a variety of characters from Not D&D and conceptualise how you might go about making a version of that character in the form of D&D that matters on this blog, D&D 4th Edition. Our guidelines are as follows:

This is going to be a brief rundown of ways to make a character that ‘feels’ like the source character

This isn’t meant to be comprehensive or authoritative but as a creative exercise

While not every character can work immediately out of the box, the aim is to make sure they have a character ‘feel’ as soon as possible

The character has to have the ‘feeling’ of the character by at least midway through Heroic

When building characters in 4th Edition it’s worth remembering that there are a lot of different ways to do the same basic thing. This isn’t going to be comprehensive, or even particularly fleshed out, and instead give you some places to start when you want to make something.

Another thing to remember is that 4e characters tend to be more about collected interactions of groups of things – it’s not that you get a build with specific rules about what you have to take, and when, and why, like you’re lockpicking your way through a design in the hopes of getting an overlap eventually. Character building is about packages, not programs, and we’ll talk about some packages and reference them going forwards.

Let’s look at the first* transgender* X-Men*!

Unravelling The Mystique

Mystique is a character who first appeared in comic books back in the ye olden times of the nineteen hundred and seventies and if you’re familiar with how characters in comics morph over time (hah) you may be surprised to learn that broadly speaking she’s been pretty consistent throughout that entire period. In simplest terms, Mystique is ‘a person’ who can shapeshift to change her appearance. In some stretches of comics, she has the capacity to use this to create what you might consider ‘gross physical qualities’ like sprouting wings to fly with or growing claws to fight with, armoured skin, or in some really batty-seeming ideas, making herself completely flat so she can float on air currents. When you ask anyone about that, the usual response to that list goes something like ‘oh okay, okay, okay, what, no, that last one is dumb,’ and I’m inclined to agree.

What this means is that Mystique is defined first and foremost by being a kind of human with the ability to change shape, and not in too wild a way. Maybe you can integrate the monstery traits (and I love me some monstery traits!) but this is a character who is meant to operate within normal parameters like gunfights and assassinations and using her shapeshifting to get to places where that dangerous element of who she is best applied.

I would imagine then, that Mystique is probably some variety of Martial character class, almost always not a character who wants to be the center of attention, and maybe some monsterism gets involved. She can disguise herself freely, so what armour or gear she’s wearing is probably something you can integrate into all kinds of looks.

Oh, and most obviously she is a constantly self-disguising character who can always take on new forms every few moments.

What hits all these notes?

Glossary Note: Conventionally, the term used in D&D for this mechanical package is race. This is the typical term, and in most conversations about this game system, the term you’re going to wind up using is race. For backwards compatibility and searchability, I am including this passage here. The term I use for this player option is heritage.

A Face For All Builds

Make a changeling.

That’s it. Literally, that’s it.

The nature of what Mystique is is one where she taps into a vein of narrative space that I think was so well-worn, so clearly understood, it, and things like the D&D doppleganger and their babby player-accessible form the changeling are all operating in that same space.

Of course, you might not be able to play a changeling. You might have a DM who has firm views on things like dopplegangers and disguise magic, and the way they can erode the basic level of player trust with the game they’re interacting with. They may not allow the changeling, for reasons of it being dangerous or overpowered or specifically tied to the lore of Eberron. These are all things a DM may choose to do and reasons they may choose to do them, though I can’t imagine bothering in this case.

In that case, your Mystique-a-like needs to pick up the feat Ritual Caster and the ritual Change Self. You’ll also want training in the Arcana skill (to be convincing in your disguise) or take the feat Deception Mastery, to translate that Change Self skill over to Bluff. If this is the route you want to pursue you can take the Cult Escapee background, and add both Bluff and Arcana to your class skill lists, and get a +1 to both, which means you’ll have every reason to be good at them. This also means that your Mystique-a-like will have a lot of obscure knowledge and be able to fake having obscure knowledge she doesn’t have right now. With this mash up together, you’ll have a heroic tier character, of any heritage, who can lie and cheat and change shape every minute multiple times a day, depending on their healing surge availability.

You do need another Deception ritual to take Deception Mastery though, and of that list you need to pick something that doesn’t violate the idea of Mystique’s powers being about altering herself and her body, and not about like, imposing things in the mind of strangers. The best Deception ritual for this, then, as something that can feel like it’s just an application of a skill on a magical level is Calm Emotions. This puts the budget for these two effects at 535 gold pieces, and two feats. If you go this route, you need a character who doesn’t have any high demand first or second level feats.

This compares to getting a Hat Of Disguise. If your game starts at level 10, you can have the Hat of Disguise just automatically, which does violate this article series’ general attitude towards making a character function in Heroic. For 5,000 gp, you can use Change Self. At Will. Without costing any healing surges, as a standard action.

And all of this is to get access to an effect that has zero combat impact. None of the effects described are good in combat, and Calm Emotions is specifically not useful in combat. The effect is available by level 2 for a character who is making low-impact choices and spending modest currency, or available at level 10 with a minor up-front investment that lets you do it forever, freely and easily thereafter. What I’m getting at with all these examples is that if for some reason your DM is against the Changelings in their game for balance reasons or wordbuilding reasons or free access to this effect reasons, you need to talk to them about these ways that this effect is already available in a variety of different ways and make sure they understand, with comparison, how getting a hat of disguise earlier and worse isn’t that big a deal. If they don’t want this effect at all in their game world, that’s valid and good but also you should know that ahead of time if you were interested in making a Mystique and then don’t try and make a Mystique in the context of a game that doesn’t want her, because trying to get rid of this effect by cutting off a mid-level heritage option just pushes the player to modestly more inconvenient but not difficult options.

But really, just build a Changeling.

The Most Obvious Option

You need a character that’s feat-light in its demands, avoids the centre of attention, and can strike very hard from advantageous position? Well, that sounds like a Rogue. Yes, the Rogue, the all purpose martial striker, the sadly second best starter kit character, Rogues have all the skills required to pull of the Mystique-like skillset and they get trained in so much. Changeling Rogue is so simple a solution to this question it was honestly why I didn’t start on this article for so long. Like this is obvious, right?

But Now With More Monster

Hang on though, you might say, what if I want to play a Mystique with those claws and wings and natural armour? What if I want to play a Bond Girl whose backup plan is turning into The Hulk? Well, for that end, I recommend we look to the ranger as a class option, and the Pack Outcast as a theme option. Hang on, Pack Outcast? Why not a werebeast? Wellll you may have heard me comment on this recently, but Werebear and Werewolf only really work with very specific power combinations and crucially, all the martial strikers that care about basic attacks care about weapon basic attacks, which the werewolf and werebear don’t make.

But if you want to shapeshift into a form that’s identifiably not human as you fight, the Pack Outcast gives you that; you can claim it’s any old horrible looking form (or I dunno, disturbingly sexy wolf furry if you want?) while the theme still provides you with a solid combat addition that doesn’t work against something like the Ranger.

Rangers go where they want, they fight in melee and at range, you could wield hand crossbows if that’s your jam. The basic skeleton of the Ranger is very good at ‘hit things’ and ‘go places’ so you should be right here.

Off The Wall

Trying as hard as I can to concoct something that works with Mystique’s whole vibe and doesn’t involve adding really fruity powers to her I find myself arriving at a build as basic as a Fighter. There’s definitely a way, in my mind, for Mystique to use her shapeshifting and combat ability to become the centre of attention and force people to engage with her, and that could be combined with things like grabs (with extra sticky hands!). Plus, Fighters have a lot of healing surges, which can be good for Change Self.

Junk Drawer

I dunno, the druid? It’s rare I finish one of these without any alternative ideas, but I think it’s because the people making the game already made something perfect for this character to work with.

This was an interesting and challenging article to make mostly because the actual build is really easy and obvious. Once you settle on the Changeling (or its jailbroken version), you have to just dig through the things that definitely don’t work. You might decide you want a Mystique who is a wizard or a psion or something else and that opens up options.

Think of it like a platform to build off. Mystique’s abilities are things that can be done easily and readily in the game, and all you need to do is introduce them. Check with your DM about it, and crucially, make sure they know the kinds of things you want to do with her. You want to infiltrate and sneak around, and you don’t want that to be useless and you don’t want it to be something other factions can do so easily it becomes boring.

So talk to your DM.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[fortuositywritings]

Tattoo Heart

Summary: Tony and you make a dumb drunk decision. He gives you a tattoo.

“Um, what the hell, Tony! You said it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s not! It’s well-proportioned. Really it’s the best heart I’ve ever drawn. I don’t know why you’re so upset. It could have been worse.”

“The heart isn’t the problem. You tattooed Wanda’s name on it!”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re mad.”

You poked your sore arm. Out of all places, he had to tattoo it on your arm above your elbow where everyone could see. Talk about bad placement.

You pout, “How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Baseball tee’s could make a comeback. You’ll be a trendsetter,” he suggests, not helping at all. 

You glare at him. “You’re paying for it to be removed.”

“I expected no less,” he concedes. You’re still touching the tender spot, frowning. He stops you. “Poking it is not going to make it go away.”

“Fuck! I’m never getting drunk with you again,” you vow. 

“You say that now, but come Friday night, whiteclaw in hand, you’ll have no recollection of this ever happening.”

“Getting a tattoo with your crush’s name on it is kind of hard to forget, Tony,” you spit out. He wears a sheepish smile. Speaking of the party on Friday, “Shit!”

“What?” Tony asks, clearly not processing the situation you’re in as fast as you are.

“Wanda’s gonna be there,” you remember.

“Well, yeah. It’s Pietro’s birthday party and they’re twins so,” he comments sarcastically.

“It’s a pool party. How am I supposed to hide this?”

“Just don’t get in the pool. Or you know what, just don’t go. Say you got sick,” Tony suggests.

“I can’t do that. She expects me to be there and I don’t want to let her down on her birthday,” you explain. Wanda had personally invited you to her party, saying you were going to be her partner for beer pong. 

“Fine. Don’t worry about it too much. We have all week to figure something out,” he reasons. You guess he’s right. No use in stressing too much.

Friday afternoon comes too fast.

You’re stressing as you look at yourself in the mirror. You look ridiculous. 

“You’re literally a genius and this was the best you could come up with?” you complain. You already feel yourself sweating. You hadn’t thought of what to wear. You only had your one piece bathing suit. Tony told you he had something and you trusted him. What he brought you, a long sleeve rashguard to wear over your bathing suit.

“Makeup was just going to wash off. We couldn’t chance it. This way, you can get in the pool,” he says. 

“I look like I’m going surfing, not a pool party,” you huff. 

“You look fine. If anyone asks, you burn easily. Now let’s go. Your girlfriend is waiting on you,” he rushes you along, grabbing your stuff for you. You throw on some shorts and slip on some sandals.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” you mumble, blushing as he pushes you out the door.

“Oh, I know. This wouldn’t be such a big deal if she was.” He closes the door.

Pietro opens the door for you and Tony. You both hug him and congratulate him on another year of being on this earth or as Tony puts it, “Congrats on being one year closer to death!”

Technically, their birthday is tomorrow but they always have a birthday dinner with their parents, so they celebrate with their friends either the day before or after. You and Tony hand Pietro your present for him. 

“Just don’t open it in front of your parents,” you warn. He decides to unwrap it right then. You roll your eyes at his impatience to wait until tomorrow. To his satisfaction it’s running shoes with a bottle of alcohol in each shoe. He laughs, thanking you for his present. He notices you looking around, searching for a certain somebody. He already knows who you’re looking for. 

“She’s in the kitchen,” he tells you, a smirk appearing on his face when you blush at being so obvious. You thank him and go find Wanda.

As Pietro said, she is in the kitchen fixing some appetizers to bring outside. What you weren’t prepared for was her already in her bikini, like she’s ready to jump into the pool. Her two piece bathing suit doesn’t leave much to the imagination but you’re quite the daydreamer it seems. You’re snapped out of your trance by Wanda clearing her throat.

She wears a smirk much like her brother’s and you splutter an embarrassed, “H-hi! Happy Birthday. You, uh, you look good. Great! You look ready for the pool.”

She smiles, amused by your awkwardness. “Thank you. You look ready for the beach.”

You blush. “Yeah, I burn easily,” you lie and quickly move on, handing her the present you got her. “Here.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she says, but you shake your head. “Of course I did. It’s your birthday tomorrow. You can open it now if you want. Your brother did.”

“Unlike my brother, I can wait. Let me go put it in my room. I’ll be right back. Wait here,” she requests. You nod and she leaves with her present. You respectfully turn your gaze to the appetizers, not wanting to ogle her backside. 

“Cowabunga, dude! What the hell are you wearing?”

“No way. I almost wore the same thing. Good thing I didn’t or that would be embarrassing.”

You roll your eyes, turning around to see Sam and Rhodey, both clearly amused by their own jokes. You give them an unimpressed look and they laugh harder. 

“Haha. So very funny,” you deadpan.

“Seriously, Y/N, why are you wearing that? It’s like a thousand degrees,” Rhodey asks. 

“Maybe I’m insecure and you guys laughing just makes me feel worse? Maybe thought of that?” you retort, but neither buy it. They look at each other and start laughing. 

“Insecure, my ass. You almost give Tony Stark a run for his money in the size of ego,” Sam says between laughs. You just roll your eyes.

Wanda returns to find the guys pressing you about the long sleeves. 

“Hey, Wanda. I think you might have given Johnny Kapahala the wrong address. She’s gonna be late for the competition,” Sam jokes and you hate that you get the joke. Wanda doesn’t and looks adorably confused. All she knows is they’re referring to you so she looks at you for an explanation but you ignore her in order to throw your own remark.

“At least Johnny wasn’t afraid to swim at the beach,” you bite, making Rhodey and Wanda laugh and Sam take offense.

“There are sharks!” Sam defends himself, making you all laugh. 

The three of you help Wanda bring out the appetizers to the backyard. They’ve got a table and a bunch of chairs laid around. Wanda asks if you’d like a drink and goes to fetch one for the two of you while you greet other friends. 

“You didn’t want one?” You ask her when she returns with only one drink. “If we’re going to be beer pong partners, you can’t leave me drinking alone.”

She giggles and takes a swig from your drink. “Happy?” She asks when she returns the drink to you and smirks upon seeing the slight blush on your cheeks. 

You get a few more remarks about the rashguard but with a few drinks in everyone’s system, the pool is more enticing than poking fun at you. You didn’t plan to get in the pool but with a simple “come on” from Wanda, you’re cannonball jumping into the deep end. 

Once it’s dark, you all begin to vacate the pool in order to play games. You and Wanda play two games of beer pong seeing as neither of you are very good and you think you’ll surely be sick if you play another round. 

You eat, you dance, you sit around and talk to your friends, and Wanda is with you the whole time. It’s midnight and you’re right beside her as everyone sings for her and Pietro. She hands you the first slice of cake, which you eat standing up just to stay next to her as she cuts a piece for everyone. 

It’s nearing 2am as people begin to leave. Wanda and Pietro make sure everyone is getting home safely, either taking a LIFT or having a designated driver. You and Tony stay later to help the twins clean up, which they greatly appreciate.

Almost an hour later, the house looks as if there hadn’t been a party. You and Tony wish them happy birthday once more before he pulls out his phone to call an Uber. The twins insist you two stay, that it is way too late and they’d feel better if you do.

Tony wiggles his eyebrows discreetly at you when Wanda invites you to sleep in her room. You spare him a warning glance before following Wanda to her room. She offers you some pajamas and hands you a long sleeved tshirt like you ask. You excuse her questioning glance saying you get cold at night. 

You change in the bathroom. When you return, you find Wanda also in her pajamas sitting on her bed with the present you gave her earlier in her hand. 

“You want to open that now?” You ask, amused at her eagerness to open it.

“I mean it is my birthday now,” she reasons. You nod, closing the door and going to sit next to her. “Or is this one of those ‘open when you’re alone’ presents?”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What kind of presents are those?”

“One of those romantic ones like in the movies that show that you’ve always loved me or something,” she replies. Your palms feel sweaty all of a sudden with the way she stares at you. She reads the nervousness on your face and takes pity, continuing, “Or a vibrator.”

You burst in giggles. “Damn it. How’d you know?” you joke. 

It’s not a vibrator, obviously. You got her two necklaces, one gold with her name and the other sterling silver with her initials.

“I was going to just get you the gold one but then I thought maybe you wanted one to match all those rings you wear so, that’s why there are two,” you explain.

She puts the box aside and throws her arms around you, pulling you flush into her. “Thank you. I love them.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I could totally return those and get you a vibrator if that's what you want,” you laugh. She pulls back immediately, a frown on her face. 

“No, they already have my name,” she protests, pulling a chuckle from you. She hands you the golden one that says ‘Wanda’ and asks, “Will you put this one on me?”

At your nod, she twists around, turning her back to you and sweeping her hair up. You struggle with the clasp a little due to your nervousness, but you get it. Had you paid closer attention, you would have noticed how Wanda shivered at your touch. 

She turns back around and you admire her with your gift around her neck. “It looks great on you.” 

She leans toward you again and you assume it’s to give you another hug, which you wouldn’t mind one bit, but she doesn’t move her head to the side the way one does to hug someone. Her nose bumps into yours and you realize she’s going to kiss you. 

For some damn reason you pull away before her lips reach yours. She looks embarrassed and begins to apologize, “Sorry, I misread that. I thought with the present and the way you’ve been looking at me all day, shit.”

“No, you didn’t misread anything,” you reassure her. She relaxes. “Can we try that again? I was just nervous, but I’m ready now.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Wait.” You get up and make a show of shaking off the nerves and pumping yourself up before you sit back down. “Okay, now I’m ready.”

She giggles, grabbing your face and pulling you into her, kissing the life out of you. She moves to lie back on the bed and you follow her lead. You’re kissing and it’s getting hot and she tugs on your shirt. You remove it without a second thought. You begin kissing down her neck pulling sweet noises when you leave a love bite. She gasps and grips your arm, right above your elbow. 

You flinch in pain. The sudden intake of breath tips her off and she pulls her hand away. She asks worriedly, “Are you okay?”

You remember the tattoo and the fact that it’s not so hidden right now. You start to panic. “Yep, why? Are you okay?”

She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but you kiss her with the intention to make her forget. A minute later, she does it again, grabbing right on that spot. You try not to, but she hears the small groan and she pulls away. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. 

“Then why do you flinch every time I grab your arm?” She moves to grab your arm again to prove a point but you move it away.

“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” you deny. She sits up and reaches for your arm. Once more you pull out of reach. 

“Y/N, let me see your arm,” she demands. 

“Okay.” You try to save yourself from some of the embarrassment by explaining, “But before you look, just know I did it on a drunken dare and I didn’t know until the day after what Tony actually wrote.”

That piques her curiosity and she shuffled around you to take a look at your arm. You can’t watch, so you hide your face behind the palm of your other hand. You expect her to either laugh at you or get upset, but moments pass and you don’t hear anything. 

You get the nerve to look over your shoulder at Wanda. She looks indecisive about what she wants to say, but she doesn’t look mad. Finally, she says, “I guess I don’t have to ask if you like me or not.”

You groan in embarrassment, hiding your face again. She laughs and pulls you into her as she lies back down. “Don’t laugh. It’s embarrassing enough getting your crush’s name tattooed on you. I don’t need her to actually make fun of me.”

“Aww, you have a crush on me?” she coos. 

You pull away, giving her a deadpan look. “No, I get girls’ names tattooed on me all the time.”

“Having your crush’s name tattooed is embarrassing,” she agrees.

You narrow your eyes, thinking she's just making fun of you now and that was the last thing you need but she continues, “So how about we say it’s your girlfriend’s name?”

Your eyes widen. Wanda bites her lip nervously, waiting for your answer, and that’s how you know she’s serious. You blush, “That would be less embarrassing.”

“I think so too. So what do you say?” She asks, wanting a clear answer.

“I would love to be your girlfriend,” you answer.

She smiles and kisses you. You can’t help the giddy laughter that comes after. 

“You know, he didn't do too bad. It’s pretty well-proportioned.”

[with-love-from-hell]

EeeeeeeéeeEE CONGRATS BB ON 1K. U DESERVE IT MORR THAN ANYONE!!!!!!!!

let's do Kinship (K) with Levi 😘

K 》 Kinship

a relationship between two people who share similar characteristics, ideas, interests, or origins.  

1k event Masterlist

Genre: Fluff, Drabble

Written for GN!Mc (you/yours)

WC: ~560

CW:   none!

“Agh! How’d ya get so good at this dumb ol’ game anyways!?” Mammon grumbled, throwing down his controller in a huff. 

You giggle. “Because I am EPIC...also the Lord of Shadows here showed me some hacks to hustle you out of the bet you made with him yesterday.” 

Mammon scowls, snorting in frustration as he gets up from his bean bag. You steal a glance toward Levi, who’s bright red blush was giving away the fact that he felt flattered by you actually calling him a nickname that matched his for you. 

“Whatever. Y’all’re boring anyways.” Mammon storms out of the room, clearly jealous at how close you and Leviathan had gotten since the escapade with the TSL contest. 

Levi scooted his beanbag a little closer to yours, but refused to meet your eyes. “H-hey Mc- er, I mean...H-Henry- Do you wanna play the new game I bought yesterday? It’s a limited edition version that has special unlockable outfits for the characters, but I cant score high enough on my own to unlock them...so-” 

“Um, Yeah!” You exclaim, smiling wide with excitement glistening in your eyes. “I’d love to! Hurry and put it on!” 

Levi smiles shyly, moving to put the game into the system drive. As he searched for the game, he found himself growing more and more uncomfortable. It was almost as if he felt your eyes on him as he sifted through his shelf. Maybe you were just impatient, and growing annoyed at how long it was taking him to fumble through the mess of disks and game boxes. Finally unable to take the pressure, he turned his head slightly to see why you were fixated on him. 

His eyes widened when he saw the expression on your face. You had your head resting in one of your palms, eyes half lidded and a warm smile playing on your lips. He met your eyes and he instantly felt his heart stop, seeing the softness in them as you looked deep past his orange irises. 

“H-h-hey!” Levi shrieks, hiding his reddened face behind his arm. “W-why are you looking at me like t-that for?!” 

You chuckle, crawling toward him on the floor. “You know you’re cute when you get flustered, right?” 

Levi feels is face heat up even more, the deep red hue painting his features spreading across his ears and down his neck. He swore if you complimented him any more, he’d explode. 

“Is this it?” You ask, holding a small box out to him that had fallen behind the TV.  Levi glances past his sleeve and snatches it out of your hands quickly, turning away to the sound of your amused giggling. His only solace is the sound of you returning to your place on your bean bag, but he can still feel your eyes on him. 

“I’m glad we’re friends now, Levi.” You muse, watching him finally compose himself enough to return to his place next to you. He tenses as you rest your head against his shoulder, the intro music to the game blasting through the surround-sound speakers. If not for the intensity of the volume, you would have surely heard the nervous squeaking noise that he made at your compliment. 

After a moment of panic, he relaxes, finding the boldness in him to lean into your affection. “I-I’m glad we’re friends too, Mc.” 

[literaphobe]

imma push back a little against the “testers shouldn’t be in mcc even if it was years ago” thing. wolfeei (ex-tester) made a post a year ago about them being given the chance to dip, since the “testers can’t compete” rule only changed to being perma after MCCR (old rules). getting mad at FBM just for being an ex-tester feels like fishing for stuff to be mad about. him being added in general is fair

atp imo it’s not that different than a player who hasn’t participated since s1. in the last 10+ events since MCCR, meltdown and loads of new maps have been added (ace race, battle box, pkt, half the grid runners rooms they played, half the tgttos maps) plus all of the stuff like coins changes & the SoT tunnel difficulty increase/sand being made more scarce. obviously the testing exp is a type of advantage, but as cyan made clear, what translates the most is just gaming skill in general.

HOWEVER, adding fbm ~now~ def went against the spirit of an mcc underdogs but eh it’s done & dusted, now we have the proof that it was a dumb concept. i didn’t hate the idea of the event; clearly noxcrew wanted to do something encouraging for the more chill players who are stuck as continual losers, but what they came up with was stupid. oh the happy clappy boomer vibes of wanting to get rid of give out participation trophies canon coins... the balance mcc strives for between a competitive + for fun event is kinda funky & subjective but, i think it makes for good vibes in the end! being able to be lighthearted & not 100% srs about everything always eliminates a lot of toxicity too. (I am approaching mcc27 as it not mattering. it is noncanon to me. the “half canon” explanation was ass. at least it gave us something to bitch about lol)

1 thing I can respect FBM for is coming in and winning an mcc & placing 1st indiv already. it will make the reddit bros a little easier to bear because i guess technically he has hit the tier standard™️ in a “half canon” way, aka it doesn't count at all lmaoo. if I see ppl start calling him s tier already before he’s ~consistently~ placing top 5 i will start punching

sorry 4 the essay. unrelated! purple mentioned dnf at some point after tgttos (dnf i.e. did not finish) but it gave me a heartattack still.

i mean there’s not much for u to be pushing back against bc i think we reached a consensus here already that he could’ve debuted in a normal mcc on a balanced team or a non-canon mcc for strong players and ex testers but putting him in this event tipped the scales in a way that went against the spirit of what ‘mcc underdogs’ was supposed to be. idt anyone’s really mad at firebreathman himself but more so what he represents. another purpled situation where we’re mostly just sick of the reddit

[cat-induced-fever-dream]

Acquaintances

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Description: Wanda meets someone who doesn’t treat her like a villain, but she doesn’t know who you really are.

Notes: I promise it’s fluff and not a trap. Also sorry about my hiatus, I’m just super unmotivated to do anything. So here’s my feeble offering to try and get back into writing.

- - -

Wanda groaned at the sight of a man with a camera. All she wanted was to pop down to the shops, buy some paprika, but alas, even a shopping trip was gold for the paparazzi. Maybe if she hid behind an aisle he would leave. But she heard the door open behind her. Ducking quickly behind a stack of tuna cans, she scanned the rows for the precious package.

She knew she wasn’t the favourite of the public, and the guilt of what she’d done ate her alive every night, but she was sick of being blamed. All she did was try her best, but this was the kind of thanks she got.

She frowned a little when she saw the man round the corner. She steeled herself, not wanting the tears to spring to her eyes. Turning around to face him, she- There was a person talking to him. You had a shopping bag in your hand, so you must have been another customer. Dressed smartly with a blazer, but paired with jeans and sneakers, you looked friendly, but the cold look you gave the man said otherwise. You exchanged words quietly with the reporter, and he seemed to refuse you, turning back to look at her. Realising that this was the perfect stall to get out of the store, she resumed her search. Cumin, Ginger, Paprika! Quickly glancing back to see how long she had, she saw you hand the man a business card as he hurriedly shuffled away.

“Sorry about that,” you turned to her, looking genuinely apologetic.

“Why?” she asked, it coming out harsher than she meant for it to. “It wasn’t even your fault.”

You shrugged. “You don’t deserve it.”

Wanda frowned again at this. She didn’t even know you, but you helped her out, so the least she could do was be polite. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you smiled. The two of you started to walk towards to counter. More like she did and you kind of happened to as well. “What are you cooking with the paprika?”

Sliding the bag to the cashier, she turned to face you properly. “I was making a traditional Sokovian dish.”

“I’m a big fan of trying different cuisines,” you replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “That sounds delicious.”

Wanda’s not really sure why you’re trying to make conversation, but you didn’t seem to have an agenda, so she indulged you with a response as the two of you walked out of the store. “It is, my mum always had the best recipe.”

“Ah well, my parents weren’t around much, so I can’t say the same,” you laughed, throwing your shopping in the back of what must have been your car.

Wanda hadn’t even realised she had walked with you to your car. That was embarrassing. “Well, it was nice to meet you, but I should be going now,” backing away as quickly as she could without making a fool of herself.

“Wait,” you called, “do you need a lift back?”

“You’re a stranger.”

“Well I know your name is Wanda,” you grinned cheekily, opening the passenger door. “And my name is Y/N. Guess we’re not strangers anymore. So, what do you say? It’s the least I could do, with that man bothering you.”

She’s not sure what compelled her to agree, but she found herself sitting in a plush leather seat as you adjusted the rear view mirror. Tapping the dashboard screen, you pulled up a map to Avengers Tower and backed out of the parking lot.

You didn’t seem to mind that she didn’t make conversation, bopping your head gently to whatever pop song was on the radio. Instead she spent the time trying to figure out who you were and why you were being so nice. “It’s rude to stare, you know?” you winked at her.

Wanda felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “Wha- No, sorry,” she mumbled. She’d done it again, made herself look dumb. You giggle, returning your eyes to the road. Trying not to stare at you this time, she observed the fancy watch adorning your wrist, and the sleek interior of the car. You must be a businesswoman of some sort, since this clearly wasn’t your average suburban car. But you were wearing jeans. Maybe a lower level employee than?

She sat there musing, until the door suddenly opened. “We’re here,” you smiled, gesturing at the grand tower that was now her home.

Why couldn’t she stop being so awkward? This was the third time. Unbuckling the seatbelt, she stumbled out, clutching the paprika to her chest. “Thanks again.”

“Anytime, Wanda.” And with a small wave, you hopped back into your car and drove off.

- - -

Heading straight to her room, Wanda abandoned her plans for paprikash. The whole interaction was quite frankly, baffling. No one was ever nice to her, except for the Avengers. But you clearly knew who she was, driving her back to the tower without an address. Tossing her jacket on her bed, she sighed. It’s not like she’d ever see you again. That’s when she noticed the card peeking out from the pocket. There was a phone number printed neatly on it, and a cursive scrawl underneath. “I am actually interested in the dish though. Could I have the name of it?”

She hadn’t exactly interacted with anyone else, so it must’ve been you. Running her thumb over the ink, she was hit with a renewed sense of energy. Grabbing the paprika, she dashed back down the stairs.

- - -

You’re spinning around in your office chair when your phone goes off. Clicking on the message, a small smile makes its way into your face.

Unknown Number: this is the dish i was talking about

Unknown Number: *image*

Unknown Number: it’s paprikash

- - -

“Hey Wanda,” Tony called, a carefully wrapped package in his arms, “this came for you.”

One look at the scarlet wrapping paper, and she knew who it was from. “Thanks Tony,” she said, grabbing it and running to her room.

Setting the package gently on her bed, she untied the ribbon and unfolded the wrapping paper. Nestled in the middle, a box of cookies.

She grinned to herself. Wanda’s been texting you for a couple of months now, and now she could really say that you’re not strangers. She knows that you can’t cook, but you can bake. You’re a businesswoman “of sorts” you say, and that you’re a pretty busy person. But regardless, you hang out with her, chilling in the local coffee shop, going shopping, even just a stroll around the park. She also knows that this happiness she gets when she sees you is definitely not platonic.

Opening the lid, the chocolate aroma wafts into her room. Her favourite of your baked goods. There’s a note tucked into the side of the box, and she delicately pulls it out. “Be my girlfriend?” she read, the handwriting obviously yours. Wait. Be my girlfriend? She sat there dumbly for a couple of seconds before it hit her. You’re asking her to be your girlfriend. Wanda scrambled for her phone, snapping a picture to send to you.

Y/N: those cookies look delicious, who sent them?

The witch rolled eyes at your antics, but played along.

Wanda: idk, but i just got asked out

Y/N: whoaaaa, did you say yes?

Wanda: yes you dumbass

Y/N: okay, under other circumstances that would’ve hurt, but i’m too excited to care right now <3

Wanda: ...

Wanda: did you try to bribe me with cookies?

Y/N: it worked, didn’t it?

Wanda: i can’t believe i actually like you

Y/N: honestly, me too

Y/N: sorry it’s a busy day, but you wanna come over for dinner?

Wanda: sounds good <3

Y/N: i’ll come pick you up, see you then girlfriend

She didn’t want bugs in her room, so Wanda grabbed the box to put in her kitchen cupboard. Balancing a cookie in her mouth, she was about to close the lid, when a hand pinched one. Eyes immediately glowing red, she locked onto Sam as he backed away, half eaten cookie and hands up in surrender.

“Do that again and I will give you nightmares.”

The Falcon whistled lowly. “Okay. Protective over cookies. Got it.”

“There’s cookies?” Bucky asked, strolling in.

“No.”

“Oh okay.”

- - -

The heroes were sprawled on the couches playing a game of UNO when Wanda came down the stairs.

“What are you doing with that hoodie?” Tony asked sharply.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows. “This.. hoodie?” she replied, tugging on the drawstrings of the soft item of company clothing she was wearing.

“Yes! That’s my enemy’s!”

She didn’t really want to get into whatever nonsense the genius was spouting again. “My friend lent it to me.”

“You have friends?” joked Sam.

Steve gave the man a warning look. “It’s good that you’re adjusting to life here.”

“I think the important question here,” Natasha said from her spot, “is where are you going?”

“Dinner,” she replied, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. She tried to fight the silly smile that crept into her face whenever she thought about you, but she mustn’t have hid it well enough, since the red headed spy gave her a sickeningly sweet smile.

I hate you, she projected.

Nat winked back.

“Based on the way Miss Maximoff keeps anxiously glancing at the door, there is likely to be someone waiting for her,” Vision piped up. “I have searched the Internet databases, and from what I have gathered, your casual outfit means that you are going with someone you are familiar with. The sharing of clothes is usually reserved for close friends or romantic partners only.”

Of course the android had to get involved.

“Your heart rate seems to be speeding up Miss Maximoff. Are you okay?”

“Wanda Maximoff,” Tony asked slowly, “do you have a boyfriend?”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

“Who is he?”

“Is he hot?”

“Where did you meet?”

“How did you even get a boyfriend?”

“Can we meet him?”

“What-“

“Okay,” she groaned. Well it was bound to happen eventually. She just wished she could’ve gotten even a few months without the teasing. “I have a girlfriend, yes she’s hot, yes I’m going to have dinner with her, and I’ll ask about meeting. I’m going to go now.” With that, she stepped into the elevator.

“Don’t think this conversation is over witchy,” called Tony, as the doors slid shut.

- - -

“Hey,” you smiled as she slid into the car. “What took you so long?”

“The Avengers found out.”

You chuckled at that. “What, did they interrogate you or something?”

“Something like that.” She paused. “They want to meet you.”

“Are you sure?”

“They’re my family, and they’ll love you as much as I do.”

“Cute,” you grinned, “but I don’t know about Tony.”

“Trust me, they’re a mess a lot of the time, but they’re good people.”

You checked through your phone. “I haven’t got anything on around lunch tomorrow. I can come by then, how does that sound?”

“So you’ll come?”

“Anything for my girlfriend.”

- - -

Her green eyes locked onto you amongst the bustle of suits in the lobby.

“Hey.”

You adjusted the grey fabric of your pantsuit. “Hey yourself.”

“Did you wear the suit to impress me?” Wanda asked, delicately tugging on your tie.

“Actually, I’ve got a meeting with the investors later. Gotta make an impression, you know?”

“Well consider me impressed,” she whispered against your ear.

Blushing, you allowed Wanda to lead you to the elevator.

- - -

Clint wasn’t sure what to expect with you. But if Wanda liked you, you were sure to be one of the good sorts. So maybe like a cute girl she met at the cafe or something. He sure as hell wasn’t expecting the confident girl dressed in a suit to step out of the elevator.

All of them were lined up in the common room and he’s pretty sure any normal person would have been intimidated by the sheer amount of Avengers in front of them, but you stepped up to them absolutely unfazed.

“Mr Rogers,” you offered your hand to shake, “a pleasure to meet you.”

Steve was expecting to have to take the lead with introductions, but here you seemed to be handling yourself fine. “Likewise.”

“Is Mr Stark here today?” you asked him.

“He’s a bit busy at the mo-“

Clattering and a string of curses interrupted him. And of course, the man himself stepped into the room, Iron Man debris in his wake.

“Tony,” Steve scolded.

“What? Did you think I’d miss meeting the girl who stole the heart of our cold antisocial emo?”

Wanda tossed a couch pillow at him, but he brushed it off.

“Tony Stark,” he declared.

You shook his hand politely. “I know who you are Mr Stark.”

“And you are...?”

“Y/N L/N.”

The genius might have been singed from his armour, but the moment that name fell from your lips, he yanked his hand away, as if he was burned.

“L/N. As in L/N Corporations?”

“That’s me.”

Abruptly he turned to Wanda. “Do you know who this is?” he hissed. “The greatest rival to Stark Industries. I thought you were introducing your girlfriend.”

You gave him a winning smile. “I am her girlfriend Mr Stark. And you may have made me your rival, but I can assure you that you are not mine.”

Sam snorted.

“What are you doing here then? Are you here to try and steal data? You can’t...”

You paid him no mind as you winked at Sam. Spotting the metal arm, your eyes widened. “You must be Bucky, right? Princess Shuri told me she’d been working on some vibranium projects. I’d love to take a closer look some other day if you don’t mind?”

“How do you know Shuri?” Stark spluttered.

“You think that she only talks to rich boys who need her help? Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Nat couldn’t help but smirk at this.

“Oh and I’ve actually been working on some prototype Widow Bites as a bit of a free time project,” you added. “If you’re interested, your opinion on usage would really help me to refine them.”

“Of course.”

“Traitor,” Tony glared.

It’s at this point your phone began to ring. Glancing down, you offered a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to take this.” You turned to face the wall as your friendly tone turned professional.

The Avengers huddled together as your call went on.

“Is she using you for information?” Tony scowled.

Wanda scowled back. “She’s my girlfriend Stark. Not everything is about you.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but Steve interrupted.

“Look Tony, she seemed like a perfectly lovely girl.”

“Yeah I like her,” added Sam. “She can keep your ego in check.”

“If Wanda likes her, I’m fine with it too.” Clint said.

Wanda gave him a thankful look.

A cough came awkwardly behind them.

“I really hate to cut this short everyone, but something’s come up back at the office. Investors are a pain.”

“Yeah go on back to your investors then,” spat Tony.

“Wow” you drawled, heading back to the elevator, “is the rich card the only thing you can play Stark?”

The light on the wall indicated that the cab had arrived, and you stepped inside the carriage which would take you back down, as Peter stepped out.

“Oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was just leaving Pete, but swing by later, alright?”

“You know it.”

“Oh and I heard you liked the hoodie I gave Wanda, Mr Stark,” you called. “I can grab you one as well, since it’s my company. But I really do gotta run now. Nice to meet you all!” The metal doors slid shut on your grinning face.

There was a silence, before Tony turned on his protégée. “How the hell are you on a first name business with her?”

“We’re friends?” Peter offered.

“Friends?”

“She went to college with me. She was super smart and we hung out and stuff. You know, what friends usually do.”

Squirming under his mentor’s gaze, he continued. “She was too smart for college though, so she dropped out and started her company. It didn’t mean we stopped being friends though.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Underoos?”

“She figured you might overreact, especially with the web sho-“ The boy’s eyes widened, and he made a mad dash for the stairs.

But Tony grabbed his wrist. “What were you saying?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair anxiously. “She helped me out with my web shooters in college, and since then, she’s been developing them with me.”

“What?”

“She knows I’m Spider-Man and I work with her on my tech,” he said slowly.

The man surveyed his teammates, making deliberate eye contact with each and every one of them. “Traitors, the lot of you,” he huffed.

“I mean you gotta admit it,” laughed Sam. “She’s college age, and built an empire to rival you. Not to mention that she’s pretty, smart, has better PR and actual time management skills-“

“Okay I get it,” the genius cut him off.

“Don’t be upset,” Clint smirked, “you can’t lose if you’re not her competition.”

Tony stomped off.

“Don’t worry about him, he’ll come around,” Steve said gently, nodding at Wanda who was fiddling anxiously with her rings.

“She was cool,” added Nat. “Tony can be a pain in the ass, but he knows she’s a good person.”

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

<3: i’d say that went pretty well

Wanda: cannot believe you didn’t tell me

<3: i’m really sorry babe, please don’t hate me

Wanda: i could never

<3: just didn’t want him to stop you from fraternising with the enemy or whatever

Wanda: i’d break the rules for you any day

<3: how romantic

<3: so miss rebel, you coming over tonight?

Wanda: depends if you’re still wearing the suit

<3: anything for you ;)

[no-pucks-given]

TYSON JOST | LIGHT MY WAY HOME

A/N: More than 12.000 words later, more than a month after the initial request from Taylor popped up in my notifications. What a freaking ride. My longest fic I've ever written, and maybe even my favourite one. Thank you, to everyone who hyped me up, send me inspo and send me sweet asks. I couldn't have done this without all of you. Special thanks to @dumb-and-dunner, @chicagoblackhawkslover96, @heybarzy and Chrissy (who doesn't have Tumblr unfortunately).

Warnings: Angst, ‘can I strangle him yet?’ Tyson, swearwords, some major character development and (how could I not?!) a happy ending.

Also: Gabe and Melissa Landeskog play a big part in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with them, you might want to skip this one.

Word Count: 12.1K

Requested: Yes.

The NHL lifestyle, or the ‘popular’ lifestyle was attractive to all young, hormonal boys. You’d known that for a long time. You stood by Tyson’s side when he got drafted into the wicked world of the NHL. Parties, drinking, sex, training until you can barely move, fights, games, wins and losses. It all had it’s charms, but it also had its dangers. Just like any other guy Tyson wanted to experience it all, the whole package,

You assumed you fell under that ‘whole package’, you were his girlfriend for a reason, right? And you did, for a while. You partied together, came home together, did everything together. But the moment Tyson became older and ‘known’ outside the regular hockey fans, that title didn’t mean much anymore. He became more and more the type of guy you didn’t fall in love with, the type to take you for granted, the type to enjoy the attention of other people, other women in particular. You weren’t the jealous type, you didn’t want to claw out the eyes of every woman that looked at him, but you were at a breaking point. Maybe you were jealous, you weren’t jealous of those other women, you were jealous of the attention Tyson gave them. Attention he should’ve been giving to you, his freaking girlfriend.

You were however the loyal type, the type to come home after a long night. And that’s exactly where things went wrong with Tyson. While you were waiting for him at home with a meal, a warm bed or just simply anything else, he was out. You had no idea where he was exactly, he was simply ‘out’, whatever that might mean. You tried to talk to him, you tried to make him see that this wouldn’t end well for either of you, but he simply waved off your concerns, shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

How do you talk to someone who rediscovered himself? How do you talk to someone who thinks he’s on top of the world? How do you save someone from the downfall of success when they don’t want to be saved? You knew one day he’ll come down from this high, one day he’ll realize that he screwed up. One day he’ll come to the conclusion he let something special slip through his fingers, and for what? Fame? Drinks? A rush of adrenaline? One day. But you knew that it wouldn’t be today.

However today is the day that you’re done. Absolutely fed up with all the bullshit excuses Tyson has been feeding you, all the coming home late or not even coming home at all. You have no idea what he’s been up to these last months, he’s barely home. Even when he’s home it’s like he isn’t really there. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you slept together or the last time you actually went to bed at the same time. Breakfast together? A lifetime ago. A lazy day together? Can’t remember. Date night? Months, months ago. Even thinking about it pisses you off to no end, the pain and hurt slowly making place for a new emotion: anger.

It’s frustrating to say the least. You love and take care of him like he means the world to you, and he does. Tyson on the other hand seems to take you for granted, or forgets you’re here at all. It seems like you’re talking to a brick wall instead of your boyfriend. No matter how hard you try, your words have no impact, your tears don’t make him feel anything. It’s like he’s a totally different person. You barely recognize him anymore these days, he feels like a stranger inside the body of the man you love. It feels like you’re both living your life, besides each other instead of with each other. It hurts, that’s for sure.

Like any other day you’ve prepared dinner, put it on the table and sat down on one of the chairs. All you can do now is wait, wait and pray he’ll show up this time. You even texted him, begged him to come home and simply eat dinner with you for a change. Of course you didn’t get a response, of course it’s complete radio silence from his side. God, you were desperate at this point, you don’t even try to deny it.

With every passing minute your hope disappears little by little. You stare at the food on the table until it’s completely dark outside, no sign of Tyson. Hours passed and you barely noticed it, it isn’t until you try to stand up and your muscles ache from sitting in the same position for a long time that you realize how much time actually has passed. “Fuck this, why am I even trying anymore?” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head. This isn’t worth it, it hasn’t been for a long time. Maybe, just maybe you’re finally ready to admit it to yourself.

Deciding to choose yourself over Tyson is a major decision, one you probably should’ve made sooner. It doesn’t matter, what does matter is that you’re choosing you now. You make the split second decision to just grab your stuff, just the necessary stuff. You remember Gabe’s offer, at the time you waved it off with a smile, pretending it wasn’t as bad as it might look to the outside world, but now? You want nothing more than to take him up on his offer. So what’s stopping you?

Even though you were excruciating calm this whole time, the moment you step into your bedroom, or Tyson’s bedroom, you break. This is real, this is really happening. You grab your bags, filling them with some of your stuff. Some clothes, some toiletries, your makeup, everything you might need. It’s a tough job, it’s even harder when you almost can’t see past the tears. At some point you lose track of things you did and didn’t grab, just shoving random items into your bag.

You let out a frustrated sigh, your body sinking down on the floor. In your hands the box containing all your high school love letters, all the small gifts you made each other. Tyson was quite handy, who would’ve thought that? You smile at the memories, sorting through the box. You frown at the feeling surging through your body, is this how heartbreak feels? Looking down at the contents of the box you sigh, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. Why couldn’t life be as simple as it used to be? It shouldn’t be this hard, right? You grab your prom picture between your fingers, smiling sadly at the two people in the picture, both smiling like they just won the lottery, both utterly in love with the other. How time can change..

You throw the box on the bed, maybe it will remind Tyson what the two of you had was special, maybe he’ll realize what he’s about to lose. If it doesn’t, well, it’s his loss. Hauling your bags downstairs is a full workout, you intended to bring ‘just the essentials’ but you have way more important stuff than you originally thought. You aren’t planning on returning to this house any time soon.

Shutting the car door after you loaded in your stuff gives you some form of relief. You let out the breath you’ve been holding in. You made your decision, it’s time to follow through now. You make your way back inside, and into the kitchen. Cleaning up all leftovers from dinner, which obviously is a lot more than you expected. Although.. did you really think he would show up? You shake your head again, putting the leftovers into the fridge. After you finish the dishes you retreat back to the living room, falling down on the couch with a loud sigh. All you can do now is wait.

You could’ve just left and never look back, but that isn’t your style. If you’re going to leave, you’ll do it the right way. You won’t leave without giving him a piece of mind, letting him know he fucked this up for good. You try to focus on the movie playing on the screen, but your heart keeps beating harder and harder, at this point you wish you would’ve just left instead of waiting for Tyson to show up. God, why did you have to do it the right way? Because you know, deep down, you would’ve wanted him to do it the same way. It’s the humane thing to do, it’s only right after spending such a long time together.

The front door opening brings you out of your thoughts. Honestly you don’t even know what time it is, but frankly you don’t care. All you want right now is to get this off your chest and leave. Tyson’s eyes widen when he comes face-to-face with you, surprisingly he doesn’t seem that intoxicated. You suspected he went out, but at this point he could’ve been anywhere.

“You’re still up,” Tyson says, walking past you and flopping down on the couch.

“Yep, and you missed dinner,” you counter, crossing your arms. Tyson simply shrugs his shoulder, clearly not caring enough to explain his absence. “I texted you to make sure you would be here,” you say, even though you know it doesn’t make a difference.

“Yeah, I was busy,” Tyson answers, looking down at his phone.

You almost feel the need to chuckle, to start laughing at his stupid behavior, but this is anything but funny to you, it fucking hurts. “I’m done, Tyson. I’m fucking done,” you say, shaking your head, trying so hard to keep the tears away.

Tyson looks at you with dull eyes, no emotion visible on his face. “Then go to fucking bed, I really can’t deal with your problems right now,” he sighs, turning his head back to the phone in his hand.

Right now, at this moment you know you made the right decision. This isn’t behavior of someone who’s in love, this isn’t even behavior of someone who loves. “You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I’m leaving. I’m done, we’re done,” you tell him, emphasizing the last part. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours, the panic clearly written all over his face now.

“No, we’re not. You can’t break up with me, y/n!” he almost shouts at you, standing up from the couch.

“Yes, I can and I will. You don’t get to act like you care all of the sudden, Tyson. You haven’t acted like a boyfriend in months. You haven’t given me any reason to stay, so I won’t. I’m done with whatever this is,” you say, waving between the two of you. Tyson grabs your wrist, tears starting to pool in his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. “No. No. You don’t get to do this. It’s over. You put on quite a show, but I can’t say it was very entertaining. This curtain fucking closes right now, show is over. You can act like you care, but I know by now that you don’t,” you tell him, ripping your arm out of his grip.

You walk over to the front door, keeping your head high. Now is not the time to break down, your time will come. You hear Tyson behind you, muttering how sorry he is, excuse after excuse leave his mouth. You open the door, turning around one last time to look at Tyson. “Don’t tell me you’re sorry, ‘cause you’re not,” you say while shaking your head. You close the door behind you, not looking back at what you’ve left behind, only looking forward to what’s yet to come.

It’s when you’re in your car mindlessly driving around when you realize you have nowhere to go. You forgot to call Gabe, and it’s probably way too late now. You quickly check the time, 2am, shit that’s late. You doubt he’s still awake, you feel bad for even thinking about waking him up. Two young children, both of them under the age of 2, and being a professional hockey player probably cost him enough energy already, you don’t need to add to that. “He did say I could always call him when I made my decision,” you say out loud, more to convince yourself that it’s okay than anything else.

You easily find Gabe’s contact, immediately pressing the dial button before you change your mind again. The line only rings twice before Gabe picks up. “I’m guessing you either finally broke up with him or there’s a fire somewhere,” Gabe says from the other side of the line. You chuckle, shaking your head. “And since you’re calling me and not the fire department, my guess is on the first one,” Gabe continues, trying to make you smile some more.

“I did it, I broke up with him, couldn’t stand to be there any second longer,” you sigh, brushing your fingers through your hair.

You hear Gabe’s sigh of relief. “I’m proud of you, y/n. I know this isn’t what you had in mind, but it’s better like this, I promise.”

Gabe turned into one of your best friends over time, Melissa is the older sister you never had and you love their children like they’re your own. Gabe and Melissa welcomed you into their family immediately after meeting you. You hadn’t expected to make friends and you definitely didn’t expect to make friends with the captain and his wife, but you’re so grateful you did. The support you receive from them is overwhelming, you couldn’t wish for better friends. So when Gabe first made you this offer, you were thankful he did, although you were still convinced at that point that Tyson would change.

“Uhm, you know.. that offer you made me? Is that still on the table?” you ask, praying he’ll say ‘yes’, praying you don’t have to sleep in some random hotel tonight.

“Of course, the guestroom is already prepared. Melissa expects you to be here as soon as possible, apparently she ‘really needs to cuddle her little sister’,” Gabe chuckles, you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at his wife.

“Thank you, Gabe. I owe you,” you say softly.

“You don’t. You’re family, y/n,” Gabe says, and you know he means every word he just said. Family. “Now get your ass over here, before Melissa starts a search party,” Gabe chuckles, making you laugh some more, because you know she would. You quickly say your goodbyes, promising you’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s just a short drive from your apartment, or Tyson’s apartment now, to Gabe and Mel’s place.

You kept up your appearance, keeping the tears at bay, but the moment you step out of your car and into Gabe’s arms you’re done. “Come here, I’m so sorry,” Gabe says softly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You stand there for a few minutes, simply crying on your best friend’s shoulder, until Melissa squeezes herself between the two of you. “Hush, I need some sister time. Why don’t you grab her stuff?” she says, smiling sweetly at her husband.

Gabe sighs dramatically, sending a wink your way. “Whatever you say, wife.”

Melissa pulls you close to her, an arm around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder. “Come on, I’ll show you your room,” she softly says, leading you into the house. You’ve been here so many times already, but never like this. You’ve never been in a situation like this before, you’re not sure how to handle this. “I can hear the wheels turning in your head. It will be okay,” Melissa says, rubbing your arm soothingly. You sigh, shrugging your shoulders, not sure what to say.

Melissa leads you to your room, pushing you down on the bed, while she takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “I know you’re probably exhausted, but do you want to talk?” Melissa asks softly, her face showing nothing but compassion.

You lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all that has happened. “I don’t even know what to say, Mel. I don’t even know how I feel right now. I’m just so...” you trail off, not knowing the right words to describe everything that you feel and think right now.

“Confused, relieved, mad?”

You sit back up, looking back at Melissa. “All of the above, I guess? It hurts, but I’m glad I did it. But I also regret it, because I love him, you know? I’m mad he didn’t try harder for me, for us,” you say, trying hard to keep the rush of tears away.

Melissa wraps her arms around you, pulling you close to her. “I know, sweetheart. It will take time, but you’re going to be okay.”

You sigh, knowing she’s right, even though it probably will take more time than just ‘some time’. You did just end a long relationship, it will take a lot of patience and time to work through that. “Thank you, Mel. For letting me stay here,” you mumble against Melissa’s shoulder.

“No need for that. You’re my sister, remember?” Melissa smiles at you.

Gabe softly knocks on the door before opening the door. “Brought your bags, thought you might need them before you go to sleep,” he says, smiling at the sight before him. Your friendship might be unconventional, but he couldn’t care less what other people think about it. Gabe absolutely adores the sister bond you and Mel share, he hoped the two of you would get along, so this? Picture perfect.

“Thanks, Gabe,” you smile at him.

“Do you mind if I steal my wife from you?” Gabe asks, making you and Melissa laugh out loud.

“Nope, she’s all yours,” you chuckle, waving at their retreating backs when they walk out of the room.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling on a sweater. You sigh, realizing you packed some of Tyson’s sweaters out of habit. His smell infiltrates your senses, making it damn hard to keep your emotions under control. It’s right this moment you know exactly how you feel. Heartbroken. The realization that your relationship with Tyson is really over doesn’t give you the satisfaction you hoped for, it doesn’t give you peace, it just fucking hurts. You simply feel hollow, even though deep down you know this was the right choice, this was what needed to happen. You know damn well why you feel so empty, you gave your heart to Tyson a long, long time ago, never expecting to be in a situation you might get it back. You don’t want it back, but you might need it back.

You realize it’s morning when the light softly shines into your room. You sigh, knowing damn well you’re lucky if you slept more than an hour this night. Rolling over you look at the clock on the wall, 9 am, perfect. Deciding it won’t do you any good if you stay in bed any longer, you force yourself out of bed and into the shower. The hot water warms your cold skin, soothing your sore muscles. All the twisting and turning you did all night surely didn’t help the way you feel right now. Why couldn’t life be a bit easier by simply letting the shower wash away all of your hurt, all of your pain? A fresh start, a clean slate.

You slip on some skinny jeans and a soft sweater, not in the mood to even think about doing your makeup. You dry your hair, before making a quick ponytail out of it. You walk down stairs, the chatter and laughter greeting you as soon as you walk into the kitchen. “Morning, guys,” you say, smiling at all the happy faces before you. A round of greetings sound throughout the room.

“How’d you sleep?” Gabe asks you as soon as you sit down next to him with a bowl of cereal.

“Can’t even tell you, suddenly it was 9 am,” you chuckle, shrugging your shoulders at Gabe’s raised eyebrow. “Do you have any idea where my phone is?” you ask Gabe, knowing he grabbed all your stuff out of your car.

“Uhh, I do, but I don’t know if you really want to look at it,” Gabe says, scratching the back of his head before pointing towards the kitchen counter. It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, walking over to where Gabe’s pointing at.

You unlock your phone, quickly checking your notifications. “Oh damn,” you mutter, looking at the absurd amount of missed calls and messages left by none other than Tyson himself.

You sit back down next to Gabe, dropping your head on your arms. “What do I do now, Gabe?” you groan. “Why does he care all of the sudden?”

Gabe rubs his hand over your back before answering your question. “Because he lost you, y/n. He never thought he would.” You turn your head towards Gabe letting his words sink in.

Gabe gets ready to leave for practice shortly after you settle on the couch with Lucas in your arms. The little man has a fascination with your hair, maybe it’s all babies who have that, but you like to think that you’re special. “Don’t pull out all y/n’s hair, baby boy,” Gabe chuckles, giving his boy a soft kiss on his head. He gives you a kiss on your cheek, softly squeezing your shoulder. You open your mouth to say something, but Gabe cuts you off. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it, I’m his captain, but I’m your friend, okay? Just relax, make sure Lucas doesn’t puke on you and go do whatever it is that you women do all day,” Gabe chuckles, knowing you better than you know yourself. You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to him, wishing him good luck with practice before he runs through the house trying to find his girls to kiss them goodbye.

“Your daddy is a good guy, you know that, Lucas?” you smile at the baby on your lap. Lucas coos, his hands grabbing onto the strands of your hair. “Your daddy and mommy make me feel so loved, even though their children like to see me in pain,” you joke, trying to free your hair from Lucas’s small hands. “Buddy, you’re way stronger than you look,” you mumble, when Lucas pulls on your hair again.

Melissa laughs out loud the moment she walks into the living room. “How many times did I tell you that you need to keep your hair away from him and his grabby hands?” she says, expertly freeing your hair from her son’s fists.

“Apparently not enough times,” you chuckle at her. Melissa joins you on the couch, while Linnea Rae plays on the ground with some of her toys, happily showing you what she got every now and then. It’s times like this that you’re extra grateful for Melissa and Gabe, the way they welcomed you into their family has been nothing but perfect.

“So, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Melissa asks, while scrolling through series to watch on Netflix.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m kind of worried about practice, I think? I don’t want to put Gabe in this position,” you say, keeping your eyes on Lucas.

“You know Gabe would do anything for you, huh? You don’t know how many times he came home utterly frustrated by the way Tyson treated you. He never said anything, because you were still with him, I can’t promise you he will stay quiet this time,” Melissa says, squeezing your shoulder. “He’ll be fine, this isn’t Gabe’s first rodeo.”

You look at Melissa, who simply gives you a wink. “I know, I know. I just don’t want him to get in trouble or anything,” you say, smiling back at her. You trust and know Gabe, so hopefully there won’t be a lot of trouble today.

“If he does though, he probably deserves it.”

Gabe surprises you all with some takeaway when he gets home from practice. It’s been nice eating with other people for change, it’s been way too long. The amount of lonely dinners has been through the roof lately. Gabe nudges you with his elbow, causing you to look up at him. “No frowning at the table.”

Melissa rolls her eyes at her husband while you just stick out your tongue at him. “Sure, dad,” you say, causing Melissa to almost choke on her bite of food before she lets out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, dad. Leave us alone,” Melissa laughs, winking at her husband. Gabe shakes his head at you and Melissa, a grin plastered on his face.

It’s during dessert you find the courage to ask about Tyson. You weren’t sure if you needed to ask Gabe, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know anything, but now you know you do. “So, did anything happen during practice?” you ask him, playing around with your spoon.

Gabe shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Not much, just some chirping. Told him I’m his captain and he needs to fucking focus on practice. That seemed to do the trick,” Gabe says, shrugging his shoulders, continuing to eat his dessert.

You look across the table at Melissa who has the same expression on her face as you. Not convincing at all. ‘Sure,’ Melissa mouths at you from across the table. You shake your head at her, furrowing your eyebrows at Gabe’s statement. ‘Nope,’ you mouth back at her, finishing your dessert. You decide to let it go, you don’t even know why you care so much. You shouldn’t, right? You broke things off with Tyson, so why do you care so much what he does and thinks? The answer to that question is pretty simple the longer you think about it. Because you still love him, that’s why.

You thank everyone for dinner and dessert, promising to cook something from them later this week. Right now all you can think about is your bed and a decent night of sleep. God, that sounds like a true dream right now. You strip out of your clothes, crawling into the soft and cozy bed. It doesn’t take long before you fall asleep, showing just how exhausted you truly are.

The weeks that follow are filled with all kinds of activities, the 5 of you falling back into a comfortable rhythm, surprising you considering the situation you’re in. It isn’t every day you take in the ex-girlfriend of one of your teammates, or your best friend, whatever way you want to see things. When you aren’t working you spend a lot of time with the kids, trying to make things easier for Melissa and Gabe whenever they are busy or simply need some time for the two of them. You happily take on some of their care, even if it’s as simple as making sure they get their food in time. Honestly they are two of the sweetest children you’ve ever come across, they always find ways to make you laugh, even though most of the time it isn’t on purpose.

It’s been quiet around the house tonight, Melissa went out with a few of her friends, while she left Gabe and the kids with you. Apparently she needed some ‘alone time’ which didn’t include kids, and definitely didn’t include Gabe after he mentioned he wanted some ‘alone time’ with her as well. You love their friendly bickering, the love they have for each other visible in everything they do. So when Melissa gave her husband a dirty look and flipped him the bird the only logical thing to do was to start laughing at their exchange. “Have fun with them, sweetheart!” Melissa had yelled at you when she walked through the door, leaving the four of you behind.

Together you decide to just have a movie night. It’s late enough for both children to be asleep already, yet early enough to squeeze in a full size movie marathon. “Gladiatorrrrr!” Gabe exclaims excitedly while scrolling through the movie selection on Netflix, pausing on his all-time favorite movie.

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please no, have mercy, Gabe,” you laugh, knowing damn well you’re going to sit through this movie again. How many times has it been already? 12? You wouldn’t even be surprised. This dude really loves his movie. You look at Gabe from between your fingers, seeing the look on his face which makes you groan even more. “Fineeee, one more time, Gabe. One more time,” you whine at him, secretly enjoying his taste in movies, something you don’t plan on telling him ever.

It’s a little after 10pm when the doorbell rings. You look at Gabe, who looks just as surprised as you are. “It’s a bit early for Mel, don’t you think?” Gabe asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Definitely, unless she drank the whole bottle of champagne again,” you chuckle, thinking back at one of the craziest parties you’ve ever been to with Mel and Gabe.

“Oh God, please don’t remind me of that,” Gabe shudders at the memory of that night, standing up to see who’s on the other side of the door.

Gabe hates to say that he isn’t surprised to see Tyson’s face as soon as he opens the door. Honestly he had expected him at his door days, maybe even weeks ago. The moment Tyson found out you were staying with Gabe he broke, Gabe expected him to fight, to yell, to scream, he expected him to do anything except cry. Which is exactly what Tyson did, breaking down in the middle of practice. For a moment the whole place went quiet, only Tyson’s cries echoing throughout the building. No one knew how to act, no one knew what to do, until Gabe realized he’s the captain for a reason. On and off the ice. It was a weird experience, one Gabe still feels extremely conflicted about. He comforted his teammate, his friend, while his other friend was at his home, utterly heartbroken, trying to get over the guy who was bawling his eyes out on the ice.

After Tyson got over the initial shock the anger took over, just as Gabe expected. It made him almost drop the gloves, something he tried to avoid, not wanting to hurt Tyson. He let him say his things, things that absolutely didn’t make any sense, until he got everything out of his system. “Now can we continue this fucking practice, Jost?” Gabe told him after everything calmed down. Gabe tried to avoid the Tyson/y/n topic as much as possible after that, not wanting to get in the middle of things more than he already was. Until tonight apparently.

Gabe raises an eyebrow at the boy before him. “Why are you here, Tyson?” Gabe sighs, already knowing the answer to that question.

Tyson looks around, eyes flickering from left to right, clearly uncomfortable being here. “I, uh, can I talk to y/n? I know she’s here,” Tyson asks, scratching the back of his head before putting them back in his pockets.

Gabe shakes his head at him. “You can’t, if she wants to talk to you she will find a way to contact you. As long as you don’t get your shit together and prove to me, but most of all to her, that you’ve changed, I won’t let you anywhere near her,” Gabe declares, starting to get annoyed with the way Tyson acts. There’s no way he lets him close to you until you feel like you’re ready to see him again, no way.

Tyson opens his mouth, but Gabe gives him a look that immediately shuts him up again. “I’m saying this as your captain, and definitely not as your friend right now. Go home and leave her the fuck alone. You had your chance, you fucked up and now you have to deal with the consequences. How you deal with those said consequences is up to you, but I suggest you leave now and think about everything you did and didn’t do, okay?” Tyson nods his head, turning around to walk back to his car.

When he’s a few steps away from his car he turns around, smiling sadly at Gabe. “She’s my home, Gabe. Home doesn’t feel the same without her. You out of all people should understand that.”

Gabe chuckles low, shaking his head at his clueless teammate. “I do. I do know what home feels like, but I never, never choose anyone or anything over my ‘home’. Never. You sure as hell did, time after time,” Gabe says frustratedly, before shutting the door, leaving behind an even more frustrated Tyson.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you caught the sound of Tyson’s voice when you walked to the kitchen, grabbing some more popcorn. You didn’t mean to listen to their conversation, but it felt like you were glued to your place, unable to take another step, unable to do anything but listen.

Gabe walks back into the room, the look on your face immediately letting him know you know. “How much did you hear?” he asks softly, approaching you slowly.

“Enough,” you whisper, before breaking down, no longer able to keep the tears locked away, no longer able to keep your emotions to yourself.

With two steps Gabe is in front of you, grabbing the bowl of popcorn you held onto between your trembling fingers. He guides you back to the couch, urging you to sit down, which is a true challenge for someone who can barely feel the ground they walk on. Gabe wraps his arms around you the moment you sit down, allowing you to cry onto his shoulder as much as you want and need. He whispers sweet nothings while softly brushing your hair out of your face, making sure you have room to breath. Time after time Gabe proves what kind of friend he is, always making sure to be there for you when he’s needed, always doing things with the best intentions. Even if it’s just holding you until you calm down, even if it’s just speaking the truth against Tyson, even if it’s just simply being there for one another.

“Sooner or later he would’ve realized what he lost, what he gave up for an evening of clubbing or God knows what. Apparently it’s sooner rather than later, however make sure you make him work for it, if you ever decide you want to give the two of you another chance,” Gabe softly advises you, when you finally calmed down a bit.

“I will, you know I love him, Gabe. But I don’t know if I should?” you mumble, not sure if it’s a question Gabe has the answer to.

“Sometimes the heart wants what it wants. If he’s serious about you, he will work his ass off to earn back your love and trust, I promise you,” Gabe comforts you, after knowing Tyson for so long he’s positive he knows that Tyson goes above and beyond to get what he wants in life.

Maybe it’s Gabe’s comforting words, maybe it’s knowing deep down Tyson still cares, maybe it’s your own strength, but for the first time in a while you feel a tiny flicker of hope, a little bit of light at the end of the dark tunnel. Maybe, just maybe this was all worth it, maybe this is what needed to happen to get better and move forward. Maybe this is how it was supposed to go.

It’s a weird feeling, knowing your ex still cares about you, but also knowing you aren’t ready to let him back into your life like that. You don’t feel like you’re capable of seeing him yet, let alone talk to him. The need to know how he’s doing, how he’s holding up grows, but also confuses you. It’s simply a weird and confusing situation to be in. Choosing between two, maybe even more ways to handle this, while also waiting for Tyson to make a move, which he obviously can’t since you don’t want to see him or speak to him, is a hard task. A task that will require a lot of thinking. You just need a bit more time to gather your thoughts, give all of your confusing feelings a place, while making sure you put yourself first, you need to put yourself first this time.

So when Gabe invites you to one of his home games a few weeks later you say ‘yes’ right away. It seems like the perfect time and place to see Tyson from a distance again, without putting too much stress on yourself, you can just watch and enjoy the game, you don’t have to force anything. Of course your seats turned out to be way closer to the ice than you expected them to be, although... what did you exactly expect with Gabe? You know he’s been talking to both of you, kind of acting like some sort of messenger. He tried to keep it casual, just slipping in some information during a conversation, but you noticed what he was trying to do. Frankly you’re thankful for his meddling.

Steadily your heart starts to beat faster and faster the more players appear on the ice to warm up. When Gabe appears you aren’t surprised to see Tyson close to him, knowing Gabe they probably had a little chat before they went on the ice. Tyson’s eyes shoot to yours the moment he’s close by, completely forgetting the ability to skate. You gasp when he lands on his ass on the ice, earning himself a round of laughter from the people around him, including Melissa and you. Gabe skates over to him, extending his hand and helping him upright again, but not before clearly telling him he’s ‘a dumbass’. Now that’s something you can agree on.

You know Tyson has something up his sleeve when he skates off to the bench, clearly busying himself with something you can’t see. After a few more stolen glances at each other Tyson skates closer and closer to you, until he’s right in front of the glass. His left hand catches your attention, until he gives you a small and almost shy smile. “Look at him, he’s blushing!” Melissa whispers next to you. You shoot her a quick ‘shut up’ look, before you focus your attention back on Tyson.

Tyson shows you the puck in his gloved hand, mouthing to you to catch it. It takes him two tries before the puck lands on the other side of the glass, safely in your hands. Tyson gives you one last quick smile before he skates off to get ready for the game. Melissa nudges you softly, bringing you back from your thoughts. “So, what’s on there?” she asks, knowing damn well you haven’t even checked.

“I don’t know if I want to look, Mel,” you tell her honestly. Melissa gives you a sad smile, throwing her arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s look together?” she suggests. You don’t know why you’re so nervous, how much can you actually write on a puck? He seemed happy to see you, so there’s no need to be nervous that it’s a bad thing. You look at the puck, turning it around in your hands so you can read the whole thing. ‘Talk after the game?’ is written on the puck, you immediately recognize Tyson’s handwriting and his little smiley face, or.. something that should resemble a smiley face.

“That wasn’t that bad, right?” Melissa asks softly, squeezing your shoulder.

“What if I’m not ready?” you ask her, a question that has been on your mind a lot lately.

“Then you take a step back, you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, you don’t have any obligations. But he’s trying, y/n. You’ve heard all of Gabe’s stories, you’ve seen it yourself just now. It can’t hurt to at least talk to him.” You think about Melissa’s words, she does have a point there. Talking is something you should’ve done ages ago, or at least Tyson should’ve done that. So this is progress, he’s at least trying this time, that’s more than he used to do.

It’s hard to keep the smile off your face, you can’t even pinpoint why exactly you’re smiling. Whatever the reason is, it’s a good feeling to smile again. The game sure as hell plays a big part in it, the guys are on fire, scoring goal after goal, never giving the puck away for long. There’s barely any time for you to give Tyson a thumbs up, indicating you’re up for a talk after the game. Whenever you look at Tyson when he’s off the ice he’s smiling, whether it is to himself or to one of his teammates, that smile won’t leave his face.

You follow Melissa down to the locker room after the game is over. You’ve done this so many times, but this time it couldn’t be more different. You greet all the girls who are patiently waiting on their man, getting enough comforting words from them to last you a lifetime. When the door to the locker room opens you come face-to-face with Mikko, someone you haven’t seen in a while. Mikko’s face lights up when he spots you outside the locker room. “y/n! I haven’t seen you in so long,” he says, while hugging you tightly.

“I missed you too, goof. It’s great to see you,” you smile at him, wiggling out of his iron grip. Dude’s definitely stronger than he looks.

“Between you and me, Tyson’s a good kid, he just needed to grow up a bit,” Mikko whispers against your ear, before leaving you alone again.

You raise your eyebrow at Melissa, who just shrugs her shoulders. Weird. After a few more minutes Gabe and Tyson appear in front of you, both of them joking around. Tyson nervously looks around, not sure if he should come any closer. Gabe hugs you swiftly before throwing his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Make sure you bring her home safely, Jost,” Gabe warns him, before quickly saying goodbye to both of you.

You watch them leave, your mouth agape by the way they just left you here. Rude. “Did they just really do that?” you ask no one in particular, still shocked by their actions.

You turn around, looking back at Tyson, who still appears to be nervous. Is he nervous to talk to you? Why would he be nervous? It’s just you. “Hi there,” you smile, looking up at the man in front of you.

“Hi beautiful, it was nice seeing you tonight,” Tyson softly says, giving you a small smile.

Your insides flutter with his use of words, it’s nice hearing them even though you’re not completely sure if he means them the way you hope he does. “It was. You played great, I had a lot of fun,” you say, smiling at the proud look that crosses Tyson’s face for a moment.

Tyson leads you back to the rink, which is now completely deserted, thinking it would be a nice place to chat. For a while the two of you fall back into small talk, ‘how’s life?’, ‘how’s work?’, all that bullshit. You know Tyson and you are avoiding the actual topic that needs to be discussed, or topics? Whatever it is, there’s a lot to talk about. “I missed it here, I forgot how much I loved being here,” you tell Tyson, looking at the lights that lighten up the place, thinking back at the memories full of fun and happiness you both created here.

“I missed you, baby,” Tyson blurts out, completely catching you off guard.

Your eyes shoot back to his, you feel the panic rising inside your body. “Tyson...,” you start, warning him he’s walking on thin ice here.

Tyson’s face falls a bit, seeing the anxious look on your face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Tyson groans, rubbing his face harshly, utterly frustrated with himself and the situation.

It’s quiet for a minute, both of you completely lost in thoughts. “Why is this so hard? We used to be able to talk about anything and everything. What changed, y/n?” Tyson wonders out loud.

You feel a painful pang in your heart, because you know damn well what changed. “You did, Tyson. You changed,” you almost whisper, the truth behind those words more clear than ever before.

You watch as Tyson’s whole composure changes in the blink of an eye, in just a split second he goes from the ‘happy’ guy to the guy who’s just as heartbroken as you are. “I did, didn’t I?” Tyson whispers, the tears pooling in his eyes. “I fucked this up, how could I be so stupid?” he mumbles, burying in face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I regret this more than I could ever admit to you. I’m so sorry, baby,” Tyson cries, trying to keep his eyes focused on you. It’s hard to keep your own tears at bay when the guy you love so much has a breakdown in front of you, so you don’t. You just let them fall.

You don’t make a move to comfort him, you do give him room to let it all out, give him time to gather his composure again. “I looked through the box, the one you left on our bed?” Tyson says, his voice still broken, still thick with emotion. You nod your head, it was something you hoped he would do. “I had no idea you kept all of that throughout the years,” Tyson smiles weakly at you. “It made me realize what a moron I have been these past few months, maybe even longer,” he continues, shaking his head in disappointment. You listen intently at him, this, this is what you hoped for all this time: realization.

“I’m not telling you that you weren’t a moron, because you absolutely were. But I’m glad you came to the same conclusion.”

Tyson chuckles at your statement, giving you half a smile. “I know, I’m a dumbass. I’m a dumbass for acting this way and a dumbass for letting you go. Any guy would be on top of the world with you by his side, and I just let you slip through my fingers,” Tyson tells you, finally showing he knows he’s been a fool all this time, he knows he let something special go.

“Is it too late for us? Can you give us another chance?” Tysons asks you, his eyes flickering between you and the ground.

You sigh softly, knowing this question would come. It’s something you gave a lot of thought, something that crossed your mind daily. “I don’t know, Tyson. I really don’t know. You really fucking hurt me, you know? I can’t just look past that, I need to heal from that,” you tell him. Tyson nods his head, a guilty expression on his face. “You made me feel worthless every single day. You didn’t even give me a second of your time day after day. All you cared about was being away. Being away from me?”

It’s right that moment Tyson interrupts you by grabbing your hands. “No. No. That’s not true, you need to believe me,” he tells you as fast as he can.

“But how can I believe you when you never gave me a reason to? Your actions showed me exactly that, Tyson. I need answers, I need to know why,” you exclaim, starting to panic again, your anxiety taking over.

“Easy, baby. I’ll tell you everything you want to know, everything you want, but right now I need you to breath. Breathe, baby,” Tyson says softly, trying to calm your shallow breathing back down to normal. “Listen to my breathing, try to follow the way I breathe.” You do as he says, following the rise and fall of his chest, gaining back control of your own breathing.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, while Tyson just shakes his head at you, letting you know it’s okay. “Can you take me home, Ty? We can talk later, okay?” you ask him, suddenly feeling the need to crawl underneath the covers of your bed and just simply sleep for a while.

“Anything you want, y/n,” Tyson says, leading you out of the room and back to his car. You’re pretty sure he mumbled something under his breath, something very closely resembling ‘your home isn’t there, it’s with me’.

The drive to Gabe takes longer than expected, giving you more time to think about Tyson’s earlier question. You still need and want to know how he spent his nights, where he spent his nights, and why he acted like you didn’t exist. That conversation might need to wait until another day, you aren’t up for any more information, any more realizations, you still need to process everything you heard, saw and felt today.

Tyson stops the car in front of Gabe’s house, looking back at you with hopeful eyes. You know he still hopes he gets an answer to his earlier question, and you want to give him at least that. “You need to show me you changed, Tyson. Show me you changed for real and I’ll try to get past everything that happened. I can’t promise you anything,” you tell him softly, meaning everything you just said.

Tyson nods his head, a smile of relief on his lips. “I will, I promise you I will show you I changed and that you’re everything to me. I promise, baby.”

So that’s exactly what Tyson does the next few weeks, every free moment he tries to show you just how much you mean to him, without smothering you. Whether it’s taking you out for dinner, although you’re still waiting for Tyson to actually make you dinner by himself one day, to small coffee dates and fresh flowers at work. It’s been a lot to process, a lot of adjusting to this ‘new’ Tyson, or rather seeing the ‘old’ Tyson again. And you missed him, God you missed him so much.

Tyson seems happier, more at peace with himself these days, it’s a pleasant change. Often you wondered what was really going on inside his head, but you stopped trying after he waved it off again, and again, and again. The late night phone calls, or facetiming during road trips have become a habit again, something you didn’t think you would ever experience again with him. You still take things slow with Tyson, deciding to rather allow yourself to slowly start trusting him again than diving head first into a relationship again. Maybe it will never come that far again, you don’t know how the future will look like for the two of you, but for now it’s enough.

You come face-to-face with a smirking Melissa when you get home from yet another ‘iced coffee and donut’ date, even though you’re pretty sure Tyson isn’t allowed to eat any donuts. “Oh no,” you groan at Melissa’s expression.

“It’s time we have a little sister-sister conversation, don’t you think?” she asks you, ushering you into the living room.

“Do we?” you groan again, not in the mood to handle whatever Melissa wants to talk about now, because you already know it’s either about you, Tyson or you and Tyson.

Melissa flops down on the couch, patting the place next to her, indicating for you to sit your ass down. “Did you already talk to him about it?” she asks, straight to point in pure Melissa-style.

You let your head fall back against the cushions, sighing loudly. “I didn’t. We’re doing great, we’re having fun. I’m going to ruin it if I start asking questions again.”

Melissa stays quiet for a minute, trying to figure out the right way to approach this sensitive topic. “You know you deserve the truth, right? You can’t rebuild a relationship when not everything’s on the table, sweetheart,” Melissa says softly, knowing you’re struggling with this.

“I promise I’ll talk to him after the road trip, I don’t want to create any unnecessary negative energy before,” you promise Melissa, although she gives you a ‘who are you trying to fool here’ look before switching topics.

A few days later you find yourself back at Tyson’s place. It’s weird being here, knowing you don’t live here anymore. Nothing changed, absolutely nothing, Tyson kept everything the way you did, whether it’s out of laziness or out of hope you’ll come back on day. Either way it’s weird coming back to a place that’s no longer your home. You came here to talk, nothing more nothing less. You promised Mel you would, and if you’re being honest with yourself it’s time to know the truth, time to reopen old wounds and finally get some answers. You’ve grown closer and closer to Tyson, without knowing everything, without knowing you’d be able to forgive him if he ever made a misstep. It’s time.

Tyson has been a nervous wreck ever since you called him last night after he returned from the road trip to St. Louis. He knew this was coming, but he prayed you would simply forget, even though he knows that’s not fair at all. He can’t excuse his behavior, and he won’t, not anymore. You deserve nothing but the truth, the full truth. He’s not proud of it, but you leaving him opened his eyes, showed him he really needed to change. Tyson feels like that’s something he truly did, he changed for the better, he can only hope you’ll feel the same way. He can only hope you’re still on the same path after tonight.

“You did great these last games, Ty,” you smile at him. You’re proud of the way he’s been performing these last couple of games, he really stepped up his game.

“I know you didn’t come here to talk about my performances on the ice, so can we please skip the pleasantries?” Tyson sighs, catching you completely off guard with his rather harsh approach. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I’ve just been so fucking nervous since you called me,” Tyson curses, frustratedly brushing his fingers through his curls.

“You’re right though, I did come to talk. I think it’s time we lay all our cards on the table,” you tell him, nodding at your own answer.

You nervously bite on your lip, playing with the cup of water in your hand. It isn’t every day you ask your ex these questions. Questions you want the answers to, question you maybe don’t even want to hear the answers of. “I need to know if you cheated on me, Ty,” you blurt out, keeping your eyes on the ground, not wanting to see the look on Tyson’s face.

“Look at me, baby,” Tyson says, urging you to look up at him. “I never cheated on you, I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

You shake your head at him, not knowing what to do with these emotions surging through your body. “It doesn’t make sense, Ty. Where were you all those nights? Where were you every time I lay in bed alone waiting for my boyfriend to come home? Waiting if he actually comes home this time or stays out all night again? Where were you?” At this point you’re past the civil conversations, past the friendly banter, you need answers, you need to know why he did what he did. The reason doesn’t even matter at this point, you need to know why. Why did he leave you alone so many nights, worrying about his well being, worrying about if he would come home at some point?

“Fuck, y/n! I know I fucked up, I know I did. But I swear on everything, I swear on my career, I swear on you that I never, never, touched another woman. I never kissed another woman, I never even danced with another woman, I did not cheat on you,” Tyson exclaims, hoping, praying you hear what he’s saying, that you’ll believe him. He didn’t do anything with another person, it was always you, it still is only you and he’ll do everything in his power to prove that to you every damn day.

“Then where were you, Ty? If you weren’t with another woman, then where the fuck were you every night you didn’t came home? Please enlighten me, because I’m so lost, so fucking lost,” you say, feeling utterly frustrated with yourself, with Tyson, with this shitty situation.

Tyson takes a deep breath, placing his cup back on the table. “Shitfaced drunk to the point I couldn’t even remember my own name, or so stoned I saw freaking elephants running all around town. Spending my money on unnecessary shit at clubs and bars, all to forget, trying to forget the fact that I had a perfect girlfriend waiting for me at home, while I did stupid shit. Fuck, this sounds even worse out loud than in my head,” Tyson groans, burying his face in his hands.

“But...,” you start, before Tyson cuts you off.

“I felt ashamed and guilty, y/n. Ashamed I let it get that far every time, guilty I didn’t tell you, guilty I didn’t come home again. One of the guys would just take me back to their place out of sympathy, letting me crash on their couch, trying to sleep off my haze.”

You try to come up with words to say, with anything but nothing comes out, you just feel.. empty? “I don’t understand, Tyson,” you say, at this point not even sure what you don’t understand.

“I tried, y/n. I tried to just come clean, but I couldn’t when you were so nice all the time, I couldn’t when I knew you would hate it, hate me. You know I’m a fucking lightweight, that makes it even worse. But those are no excuses, there aren’t any. I fucked up,” Tyson sighs, giving you a sad smile, “I couldn’t face you, I didn’t know how to show you my vulnerable side without letting it change the way you saw me. I didn’t want you to see me any different, but I didn’t notice I changed until you packed your bags and left me standing in the doorway.”

You’re absolutely speechless, there are so many things you want to say but you can’t form any sentences, any words. You just stare at him, your mind racing with an unlimited amount of thoughts. “Are you okay, baby?” Tyson asks softly, reaching out to put his hand on your arm.

You shake your head from side to side, wiping away the tears that spilled out. “I’m not okay, I’m definitely not okay,” you tell him. “I feel terrible knowing you didn’t feel like you could come to me, like you couldn’t talk to me. I’ve always been your biggest supporter, nothing would’ve changed that, Ty.”

Tyson gently wipes the tears away from underneath your eyes, scooting closer to where you’re seated. “Come here, baby,” he softly says, opening his arms for you. You hesitate for a second, not knowing if this is the right thing to do. Fuck the right thing, you definitely need a hug right now, and judging by Tyson’s facial expression he needs one as well. You lean forward, putting your arms around his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his body. How long has it been since you hugged each other? You can’t even remember, way too long. Tyson closes his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible to his own body.

“I missed this, Ty. I missed you,” you confess, the feeling of his arms around you, the feeling of Tyson, bringing back so many memories, so many happier times.

“I know we still have a long way to go, but I hope we’ll do this together. I can’t even tell you how great it feels to have my arms around you again, even if it’s just for a moment,” Tyson says, after you both let go of each other.

“We do, but I’m in if you’re in, Ty,” you agree, wanting nothing more than to work through the issues you still have. It’s time to forgive, time to let go, time to change and time to move on.

“I’m all in.”

The talk you had with Tyson that Wednesday evening did wonders for the both of you. You still had a long way to go before you were even remotely close to where you used to be with Tyson, but the most important thing was that you were working on things. Slowly, but steadily the two of you worked on trusting each other again, telling each other important things again, just simply working on being in a healthy relationship again. Although the word never came up, you were nowhere near ready for that commitment, so you settled on something less intimidating. Friends.

It was supposed to be a regular, normal Friday evening with just Melissa and the kids. Gabe and Tyson were playing one of their most important games this season, both of them begged you to come, but it was too late to find a babysitter. Not wanting to be by yourself there and leaving Mel alone, you decided to sit this one out as well, promising to cheer them on in front of the tv. It’s the least you could do. So there you are, seated on the couch wearing your Jost jersey for the very first time again, just as you promised. Weird, like nothing ever changed, even though the exact opposite is true.

You’re bouncing a giggling Linnea Rae on your knee, looking down at her adorable mini jersey. “Look it’s your daddy!” you exclaim excitedly, pointing at the closeup shot of Gabe.

“Daddy!” Linnea Rae giggles just as excited.

You catch Mel softly smiling at your little interaction with her daughter, enjoying the love you share for each other. It’s been a blessing to have you around here, the way you care for her children, but also for her and her husband has been phenomenal. Mel couldn’t wish for a better friend, for a better sister than you.

“Oh no,” you whisper when Tyson gets slammed hard into the glass. Melissa grabs your hand, squeezing softly.

“He’s going to be fine, he’s a tough guy,” she says, trying her best to comfort you. And he is, like the tough guy Tyson is, he gets up again, shaking off the hard hit. The game continues and you’re glad Tyson is fine, skating like he didn’t just get squeezed between a glass wall and a 200 pound hockey player.

All goes well until Gabe decides the best place to smack his stick is directly against Tyson’s face, again. “Not his face, Gabe! Not his fucking face again!” you yell at the screen, thanking Mel for already putting the kids to sleep.

“Shit, that looks bad,” Melissa almost whispers, squeezing your hand again.

You don’t know many things for sure in life, but you sure as hell know Tyson will be spotting a black eye for weeks. But like the tough guy he already proved to be, he just goes on with the game, trying his absolute best to work as hard as he can, giving himself completely to the game, anything to get his team the victory.

“That’s the second time you gave my man a black eye, Gabe. Why do you keep hurting him?” you whine the second Gabe walks into the living room. For a moment the room stays awfully quiet, until you realize what you just said. “I really said that, huh?” you ask, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“You sure did. But I’m sorry, it was an accident. Again,” Gabe chuckles, shrugging his shoulders.

“Uhu, again,” you say, rolling your eyes at your best friend.

Gabe grins at you, flopping down on the couch next to Mel. “I’ll try not to hurt his pretty face again, okay?” Gabe laughs, shaking his head at you in a playful way.

“Is it weird if I, you know.. went over to check up on him?” you ask your friends, suddenly insecure about the thought of just showing up at his door.

Gabe gives you a soft smile. “I’m absolutely convinced he’d love that, y/n,” Gabe says, pulling Melissa closer to him.

“I know he would, sis,” Melissa agrees with her husband.

“Fine, okay. I’ll be back in a few. Don’t enjoy yourself too much,” you tell the two lovebirds before finding your stuff and almost running out of the front door.

You’re giddy the entire drive to Tyson’s apartment. This could go two ways, either it goes extremely well or this backfires completely. You’re hoping for the first one. Seeing Tyson get hurt gave you some realizations. One of them is that you absolutely hate to see him hurt, and you want nothing more than to be there for him, care for him, to tell him everything will be alright. Which brings you to your second discovery of the evening: you still love him, you’re still completely and utterly in love with Tyson. You can’t, really can’t imagine your life without Tyson in it. It’s your turn to tell him you need him, tell him you don’t want to do anything without him, tell him you still see a future together.

You pick up his favorite comfort food on the way over, cake. You know his nutritionist will hate you for this, but he deserves a treat after taking a stick to the face. You chuckle to yourself when you think of the small cake you bought, it’s stupid and childish, but you love it. The fun you already had makes it absolutely worth it. You park in front of the building, hopping out of the car and quickly making your way over to the floor Tyson occupies.

You rummage around in your coat pocket for the lighter you bought alongside the cake. Quickly placing the cover back into the bag, and lighting up the ‘2’ shaped candle. You snicker to yourself, enjoying this way too much. You knock on the door and patiently wait for Tyson to open up. You hear Tyson approaching, making it harder and harder to keep your composure.

The moment he opens the door his face shifts from slight annoyance, to confused, to happy, and back to confused again. “y/n?” he asks softly, looking between you and the cake, confusion clearly written all over his face.

“Happy second black eye!” you yell, before bursting out in laughter.

Tyson can’t help but join you in your laughter, if there’s one thing he loves about you, it’s your wicked sense of humor. “You really are something special, aren’t you?” Tyson chuckles, shaking his head softly at you, a smile playing on his lips.

“You tell me, Jost,” you say, giving him a wink before walking past him and inside his apartment.

“So you bought me a cake?” Tyson asks you, looking over your shoulder to the cake on his kitchen counter.

“I sure did, thought you’d deserved a treat after what Gabe did to you, again,” you laugh.

“He sure likes to hit me in the face with things. But thank you, this really means a lot to me, baby,” Tyson softly says, squeezing your hip with one of his hands, before grabbing two plates. While Tyson cuts the cake you look for something to drink, deciding water will do for the night.

You flop down on the couch next to Tyson, immediately bringing the fork with a piece of cake to your mouth. “Oh God, that’s so good,” you moan out, you picked some killer cake.

“Don’t make those noises, please,” Tyson groans, stuffing his face with cake.

“I’m sorry I picked such a good freaking cake, mister,” you laugh, nudging him with your foot. Tyson rolls his eyes playfully at you, grabbing your foot with his free hand before you can nudge him again and again.

“Movie?” Tyson asks after you both finished your plates, although Tyson finished the last few bites of your piece. Like he said he’s a needy and hungry man.

“Sure, but just something light and funny, Ty. Nothing dark,” you tell him, knowing he’d love to scare you throughout some horror movie.

While Tyson scrolls through the movies, you make yourself more comfortable on the couch, laying back against the cushions with your feet against Tyson. He looks at you, scanning your body, clearly thinking about something since his eyebrows keep furrowing and relaxing.

“Come here, Tyson,” you softly say when he finally picks a movie to watch, opening your arms for him. His eyes shoot to yours, like he can’t actually believe you just told him that. He gives you a quick smile, before moving towards you, laying down beside you.

He rests his head against your chest, just like he used to do so long ago, his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this okay?” he asks you, making sure you aren’t uncomfortable, even though you’re the one who suggested this.

“It’s perfect, Ty,” you reassure him.

Halfway through the movie you can’t resist the temptation to run your fingers through his curls any longer. Tyson groans softly when your nails rake over his scalp, sending chill through your body. “That’s so good, please never stop doing that,” he groans out, pulling you tighter against him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Ty,” you tell him, smiling at the way his eyes shoot to yours.

“You aren’t? Are you serious?” he asks you quietly, eyes still locked on yours.

“I am, love. I came to the conclusion that you’re worth all the risks in life. You’re my light, my guiding light in darkness, my light at the end of the tunnel,” you say, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead. You try to express your emotions towards Tyson, trying to make him feel what you felt when you came to the sudden realization he’s worth taking a risk.

“What does that mean, baby?” Tyson asks you softly, an uncertain smile on his lips.

“It means I’m willing to give us another shot, another go. I want to try again, Ty.”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips when you look at Tyson’s face, the realization setting in, the happiness and the gratefulness spreading all over his face, the relief flooding through his body.

“How does that work?” Tyson asks again, clearly trying to rid himself of any insecurities, any questions he has. You gladly take those insecurities away from him.

“A clean slate, completely starting over again to give us both a fresh start. How does that sound?” you ask him.

Tyson nods at you, the happiness radiation off him. “A fresh start, I like the sound of that,” Tyson muses. The changes on his face fascinates you, it seems like he goes through a whole range of emotions in just a few minutes. Until he reaches one you know all too well, mischief. He looks at you, the familiar glimmer in his eyes tells you he’s definitely up to something. He sends you a soft and sweet smile, that almost melts you into a puddle right there and then. “Hi, I’m Tyson,” he says, extending his hand to you. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you, this is exactly how Tyson is. Funny, charming, an absolute dream.

“You’re a goof, you know that?” you tell him, softly shaking your head at him, but the big grin on your face tells him you loved that. Tyson intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing softly. When he doesn’t make any other moves you take matters into your own hand, slowly leaning in and softly pressing your lips on his. The familiarity, the rush of emotion flooding through your body hits you like a ton of bricks. The feeling of his lips against yours light something deep inside of you, and just like that you finally feel complete again.

[darthfrodophantom]

Ectoberhaunt Day 5: Ouija Board

Summary: To get into the spooky season spirit, Tucker and Sam convince Danny to play a video game late at night, and Danny isn’t pleased about the subject of the video game.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34303123 

Too Close to Home

“Let me get this straight,” Danny interrupted. “I fight ghosts - real ghosts - on a nightly basis. And now that I actually have a free night you want to take up the time that I should be sleeping to fight fake ghosts?”

He shook his head as he looked at his computer screen, the only light in his entire bedroom aside from the digital clock that showed the hour: 11:45. From the first-person view of the computer game on his screen, he watched the avatars of both of his friends attempt to throw basketballs into a hoop.

“But this is way more fun,” Tucker’s voice said over Danny’s headset. “And it hurts a lot less! Ah! Dang it Sam - you messed up my throw!”

Sam cackled triumphantly. “Better pay more attention to your timing then.”

Tucker groaned as his avatar abandoned the basketball for spray paint cans, which he chucked at Sam. “Besides Danny, we’re not fighting ghosts: we’re hunting them.”

“Fine, fight, hunt, whatever. I still do both of them,” Danny argued.

“Not like this you don’t,” Tucker grinned. “God he’s gonna get creamed.”

“You know Danny, maybe we should let you go to bed. You’re gonna ruin my perfect streak,” Sam teased.

Danny rolled his eyes. “Or maybe you’ll actually do better because you have a true ghost hunting professional on the team,” he defended. He had no idea why he was bragging - he’d just been given an out and given the late hour he should take it, but now it felt like he needed to defend his pride as a ghost hunter. …That thought sounded a little too similar to something his parents would say and he quickly dismissed it. “Besides, I played the tutorial, I know what I’m doing. I’m just trying to figure out why we’re doing this.”

“Because it’s spooky season,” Tucker replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“We are only five days into October, Tucker, and if you’re gonna keep doing this all month I am going to hit you with the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick,” Sam threatened.

“I dunno, it might be worth it,” Tucker teased. “What do you think Danny?”

Danny shook his head, even though none of them could see it. “As the only person in this group who has actually been hit by the Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, I would back off,” he advised.

“Listen to Danny Tucker,” Sam chuckled as her avatar walked over to the white board to set up the hunt. “He’s actually speaking wisdom for once. Now come over here and pick out your gear.”

The playful teasing between best friends stopped as they actually got serious and picked out the gear they would need for their mission. Since Danny had no money, he couldn’t really participate in the conversation, but it seemed like Tucker and Sam had played this enough to know what they needed to bring. Sam started the mission, and their avatars found themselves inside the trailer looking at another whiteboard.

“Alright, looks like our ghost is named Thomas Clark and he responds to all of us,” Sam informed the group while Tucker’s avatar walked over to the shelves to equip supplies.

“Well that’s a dumb name for a ghost,” Danny complained as he looked at the bulletin board next to the computer. He had to squint at his screen to read them, but the articles were fairly legible and contained ghost stories he remembered hearing his parents talk about. It also had a recent article that he actually remembered running in USA Today proclaiming Amity Park as the most haunted city in the world - he didn’t know whether to feel proud or annoyed.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Sam agreed, though her voice was laced with sarcasm. “He should have gone with Thomas Phantom instead.”

Danny rolled his eyes as Tucker burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, now that sounds like a proper ghost,” Tucker added between laughs.

“I knew I was going to hate this,” Danny groaned under his breath. “Can we just get this over with?”

Sam’s avatar turned to face the new whiteboard. “Alright, fine. Objective one: find out what kind of ghost we’re dealing with - standard. Objective two: witness a ghost event.”

“I am a ghost event,” Danny smirked, causing Tucker to burst out laughing again.

“Objective three,” Sam snapped, “capture a photo of the ghost.”

Tucker’s avatar grabbed a camera and snapped a picture of Danny’s avatar. “Got one!” he proclaimed, which drove both boys into laughter.

“Objective four,” Sam said louder, “get a ghost to walk through salt.”

“What? That’s dumb. Everyone knows that’s an old wive’s tale,” Danny complained as he shook his head. Did the creators of this game actually do any real research before they made this game?

“Are you regretting this yet Sam?” Tucker asked as he finally stopped laughing.

“Let’s just get in the house,” she groaned. Danny smirked in triumph, and he could tell Tucker was sharing a similar smirk on his end.

They divided up equipment between the three of them, but not before Danny could comment on the inaccuracies of each of the pieces of equipment and how useless they’d be in an actual ghost fight. From faulty science to just being plain incorrect, Danny made sure to have pithy comments about all the equipment. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that it had to be accurate - he was not his parents - but as a ghost and a ghost hunter, it just felt a little more personal than he wanted to admit.

Because he was the newest one, Danny got stuck with the Spirit Book (“What? Are they trying to imply all ghosts can’t write? That’s alivist!”) and the EMF Reader (“...Okay that one’s actually accurate”) because they were apparently the easiest to use. Laden down with their gear they walked up to the small house. Sam’s avatar unlocked the door and they headed inside. Danny noticed the tonal shift immediately. Outside he could hear wind and crickets chirping, but once he stepped inside the doorway, an oppressive silence covered his headphones. It reminded him of the sensation on a pressurised airplane and it unnerved and unsettled him...a lot more than he planned to admit to his friends.

“Alright, spread out,” Sam instructed. “See if you can find the ghost room.”

Ghost room, right. He remembered that from the tutorial. It had been the garage in the tutorial, so he figured he should start there. He walked back through the dark house, turning lights on as he went. It wasn’t because he was scared - absolutely not, he was a real ghost hunter! - it was just much easier to see. He pulled out the EMF reader and walked into the garage. It had an eerie quality to it, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he remembered seeing the ghost there last time (a mean looking (and inaccurate) ghost covered in blood and holding an axe) or if it was because he was alone and the room was so large, but he did not like being in here.

“You know, in the tutorial, the ghost was a bloody axe-man,” Danny remarked over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, I think he’s standard in the tutorial,” Sam remarked offhand. He did not want to admit how good it felt to hear her voice in the oppressive silence of the house. They were clearly focused on their tasks, and that was a good thing, but it felt a lot better hearing their voices.

“Red blood,” he continued, simply to trigger more conversation. He didn’t get any EMF readings, so he gratefully left the garage. “Not ectoplasm. It’s like they didn’t even try.”

“Ugh, Danny, they’re going for a horror aesthetic, not something real,” Sam sighed.

“What? Ectoplasm-stains are horrifying,” he countered as he walked through the rest of the first story. Still no EMF readings.

“Only when it’s yours,” Sam said, and the weight of those words echoed in the silence of the house that made him stop moving for a moment. “No cold spots upstairs,” Sam informed them to break the silence.

“Yeah, no EMF downstairs,” Danny added. “I’m gonna check out the basement.” That’s where they loved to hang out in the real world, so it seemed the next best choice.

“Oh hang on, if you’re going down there I’ll go with you,” Tucker spoke up.

Danny stopped halfway down the stairs. “It’s fine, I’m pretty used to basements,” he joked weaky.

“Yeah, well the last time you went into a basement alone with untested ghost equipment you died.” Tucker said it light-heartedly as a joke, and it was one they’d said a bunch of times before, but somehow it just didn’t feel the same in this tense environment. It felt too...personal.

He waited for Tucker’s avatar to appear before they walked down the stairs together into the basement. Unlike Sam’s basement or his own, this basement had a much creepier feel to it, with the foreboding worn brick walls and discolored cement flooring. Honestly he was glad Tucker went down there with him because it just felt better having another person there.

“Sam, maybe you should get down here with the thermometer,” Tucker mentioned as they both walked through the basement. “Because we’re not--”

Danny whirled around as he heard something thud hard against the ground behind him while he jumped in his chair. The EMF reader in his hand jumped up to three dots and blared at them while he stared at a box of tools now on the ground. The ghost was clearly in the room. Danny half-expected his ghost sense to go off, but he had to remind himself it was just a video game. There wasn’t actually a ghost here.

“What happened?” Sam’s urgent voice said over the walkies.

“Ghost knocked something off the shelf down here,” Tucker said as his avatar walked over to the toolbox. “Ooh! We’ve got fingerprints!” he cheered as his avatar shined a light on a glowing handprint.

“Oh that’s so not how that works,” Danny complained, just to help lighten the mood. Honestly he felt a bit jumpy knowing that the ghost was in the room...and he couldn’t sense him. He’d dealt with invisible ghosts before, but his ghost sense always gave him a vague idea of where they were...except for now. He turned in his chair to check the room behind him. No ghosts, no ghost sense. It’s just in the computer game.

“Figures that the ghost would be in the basement,” Sam remarked as her avatar walked down the stairs and opened her journal. Right! Journal. Danny opened his and placed their one piece of evidence inside. The sooner they got all of those the sooner they could leave, and he really liked that idea.

“I’m not seeing freezing temperatures, but it is a little cooler than the rest of the house,” she continued. “So let’s start setting stuff up in here. Tucker get the DOTS up and I’ll place the camera. Danny place the spirit book.”

Okay, this wasn’t so bad with the three of them in the room. He could hear them moving around and he could see them, so it made him feel a bit better. And there was still no sign of the ghost. He put the spirit book down near the toolbox and looked away from it. Maybe the ghost wouldn’t write in it while he was watching? He didn’t know.

“Ooh!” Tucker cried excitedly.

“Did you see it in the DOTS?” Sam asked.

“No - Ouija board! Oh yeah!” Tucker cheered. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“Oh I love these,” Sam agreed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he looked at the screen. Why were they acting so happy - didn’t they forget there was a ghost in this room with them?

“Hang on, let Danny try the Ouija board,” Tucker suggested. “You know, because he’s never seen it before.”

“Ooh good idea,” Sam agreed. Danny walked over to where they were and saw Sam’s avatar set down a light brown board.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sus about your motives right now,” Danny said. He had a bad feeling about this...

“No Danny, it’s fine. These are actually pretty cool in this game,” Sam assured him. She quickly explained how the Ouija boards worked in the game and what questions to ask, and against his better judgment, he walked over and activated the board. The numbers and letters glowed orange against the light color of the wood.

He decided to start with something easy, so he swallowed and forced his voice to come out clear. “How old are you?” He jumped in his chair and his avatar backed up quickly as the planchette moved across the letters.

“Y - O - U - N - G,” Tucker read. “A young ghost.”

“Oh God, I hope that doesn’t mean it’s the crawling baby ghost,” Sam sighed. “I really hate that one.”

“Ask it something else,” Tucker encouraged.

“I don’t know,” Danny hedged. For some reason the Ouija board set him on edge. Something deep in his gut did not like this. Even if it wasn’t real and he kept telling himself it wasn’t real, he didn’t like it.

“No dude, it’s okay,” he assured him. “You can ask two questions before a significant sanity drop. Just ask it one more and you can go back to the truck.”

He very much wanted to go back to the truck. He just needed a chance to regroup. He was a ghost and fought ghosts for a living and he could not understand why this game unnerved him so much. But Danny Phantom wasn’t scared of ghosts, any kind of ghosts, and he wasn’t about to show it on a video game. “Fine,” he groaned as he picked up the board again. “Who died?”

This time he knew what to expect, and didn’t jump as much as the planchette started moving. First to the D, then to the A. Over to the N, then looping back to the N. It ended on a Y.

All three of them stopped moving. The silence became even more deafening around them. Danny dropped the Ouija board and backed up as far as the game would let him. He felt a cold sweat drip down his back. Danny. It spelled Danny. How did it know his name?

“...That has got to be a coincidence,” Sam finally said after the silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“The ghost’s name must be Danny,” Tucker suggested, voice full of forced bravado.

“...No it’s Thomas,” Sam said slowly. “It must just be reading your username to scare you,” she decided.

“No my...my username is GhostBoy,” Danny reminded them, finally feeling like he could speak.

“Is this game actually haunted? Danny, what did you do?” Tucker accused, voice bordering on hysterics.

“What? I didn’t do anything!” Danny yelled back. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He put a hand up to feel his breath - still normal temperature. He looked around his room. There wasn’t a ghost here. But how did it know his name? And that he did almost die in a basement? “You’re the one that told me to use it!”

“Okay, let’s just calm down,” Sam interrupted. “It’s gotta be a coincidence. Let me try it and see if it says the same thing or gives me my name. It could be a new update that checks the name on the Steam account or something.”

Sam moved closer to the board, but before she could touch it all their flashlights flickered.

“Shit!” Tucker yelled.

“Run!” Sam cried in a panic.

Danny followed them up the stairs to the main level. The idea of running from a ghost, not fighting it, was so foreign to him, but he had no choice. He was powerless here. No ghost powers, no weapons, no thermos. He was completely helpless against this ghost.

He bolted for the garage, the one other room he knew how to get to. Sam’s avatar was running next to him. He could hear footsteps behind him and he swore as he ran towards the garage. Sam diverted into another room, but he continued into the garage. He found a locker he’d opened before and rushed into it. He barely remembered to turn off his flashlight and he waited. Seconds passed and he realized he was holding his breath. No...not holding his breath. Not breathing. He looked down at his hands and saw the glowing white gloves. When...when did he change into his ghost form?

Sam’s voice over the walkie startled him. “What the--? Oh my G--” The walkie feed cut to static and then nothing.

“I...I think it got Sam,” Tucker’s voice said over the walkie. Danny turned on his flashlight and saw that it was no longer blinking. He threw his head back in relief. The hunt was over. He climbed back out of his locker, keeping the door open again just in case.

“Dude, she was running right next to me. It must have followed her instead of me,” Danny told him. “Ugh, well what are we going to do now? She’s the only one who knew what she was doing!”

“Wait, I thought you would be a pro because you’re a ‘professional ghost hunter’ - isn’t that what you kept saying?” Tucker teased.

“Yeah, well I lied! This is nothing like ghost hunting!” he argued as he walked out of the garage. He was going back to the trailer. “Real ghost hunters would bring some kind of weapon and wouldn’t just run around helpless! We should just call it.”

“What? No! We’ve got two more pieces of evidence to collect. And we haven’t done any of the objectives! Tucker retorted.

“Fine!” he snapped as he walked down the main hallway. “if you want to keep looking for clues you can, but I’m going back to the trailer to check--”

The front door slammed shut. His flashlight blinked again.

“Shit!” Tucker cried.

Danny could hear the footsteps behind him. He could feel a heart thumping in his headset. He started running off to a room but stopped. No, he was not running again. He was going to stare this ghost down and prove that Danny Phantom was not scared of some ghost. His image struck fear in the hearts of ghosts and his name carried respect in the Ghost Zone. He was not going to let some video game ghost get the better of him and spook him with some Ouija board trick.

He turned around to face it, camera at the ready. If he was going down, he was getting a picture of it. The ghost blinked in the hallway and Danny saw the cause of his anxiety for the first time. The ghost floated down the hallway, with white hair and a black and white jumpsuit. It...it was him. The ghost was Phantom.

He completely forgot to take a picture as his own image rushed at him. He saw two gloved hands cover over the screen and then everything went dark. He heard the crash of breaking glass, saw a strange underground cavern for a second, and then he was back in a foggy blue version of the house.

The ghost of Sam’s avatar approached him, and he heard her laughing over the headset. It sounded like she’d been laughing for awhile. “Oh my god Danny, did you see the ghost?” she asked between laughs.

“It...that was...oh my God,” he groaned. It all made sense. Spelling Danny was likely an Easter egg, a cute nod to his name of Danny Phantom. The fact that it happened in the basement was just a coincidence, because it’s a creepy spot and a commonly haunted area. He hadn’t summoned anything. He wasn’t being targeted by some ghost in the computer. It was just an Easter egg paying homage to him.

Suddenly all the stress left him and he laughed. God, it felt so good to laugh after all that panic. This game had gotten him so worked up and over what? Over a ghost that looked like himself? Suddenly it all seemed so silly that it scared him that much. He had felt actual dread and fear, enough to trigger an unconscious transformation out of a need to protect himself, but there weren’t actually any real consequences. Now he just got to walk around unhindered in this ghostly version of the house, but nothing else actually happened.

Sam laughed along with Danny. “So you did see it then?”

“It was...oh my god Sam it was me! It looked just like me!”

“I know!” she exclaimed. “As soon as I saw it I forgot to keep running and stared. So of course it killed me. I did get a picture though,” she bragged.

“Oh man. I meant to, but I was just too stunned.” Now that he felt much better, he decided to wander around the house following Tucker who, for some reason, was still trying to finish the level on his own.

Sam suspiciously stopped her laughing. “Wait...Danny, your voice sounds weird. Are you...are you in your ghost form?”

Danny bit his lip as a slight blush graced his cheeks. “I don’t want to hear it.” But the telltale whoosh of the glowing rings turning him back to his human form seemed to be all the confirmation she needed. Except, he didn’t hear her laugh.

“...Danny, I wanted to apologize,” she said, and that made Danny stop moving and look quizzically at the screen.

“What? Apologize for what?” he asked.

“For goading you into playing this game,” she clarified, her voice surprisingly serious. “While I’ve been hanging out here in the spirit world, I realized why this game set you off so much.”

“What do you mean? I never said it set me off,” Danny defended. How could she possibly know that? He thought he was playing it pretty cool.

“Oh please,” she scoffed. “You’re in your ghost form and you were panicking after the Ouija board thing.”

“Hey you would panic too if--”

“Danny I’m trying to say that I get it,” she interrupted. “Being near a ghost without your powers? Without any weapons? Being powerless? It’s one of your biggest nightmares, that your powers will fail when you need them. And this game, it’s too close to home.”

Danny stopped moving and stared at the screen, because she was absolutely right. This was too close to home. How many times did he have to check to make sure his ghost sense wasn’t actually going off? How many times did he keep thinking about how similar everything felt to his own experiences? How unnerved he was about a ghost in the basement? It was too similar to his real life...except he had the tools he needed in his real life. Not a flashlight and some dumb spirit book, but actual real tools and powers and weapons, but here they were all taken away from him. Everything he relied on to fight ghosts had been stripped from him in the game and trapped him helpless in a house with his friends. Of course that bothered him. It was, as Sam said, one of his more recurring nightmares.

“...Yeah I think I’m good never playing this game again,” Danny admitted, the closest he planned to get to acknowledging everything she said was true.

“Honestly? I don’t blame you,” Sam agreed softly. “I think it’s easier for us because we’re used to this role: when there’s a ghost in the area, we help figure out what’s going on and support you. It’s not all that different from this game,” she explained. Her ghostly avatar followed Tucker out of the house and he followed after them. “But when you’re used to doing the fighting and defending and can’t...I guess it’s probably harder to separate yourself from the game.”

He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. It was too similar to his daily life, and as he tried to argue at the beginning, he didn’t need to hunt fake ghosts poorly when he knew how to fight real ghosts well. “You know you sound like Jazz,” he pointed out, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

“Wow, you’re going to insult me after I tried to help you?” Sam scoffed. “See if I ever help you again!”

Danny smiled at the screen, glad to be back to the teasing. He definitely felt more relaxed and more like himself. “Oh look, Tucker’s finally calling it quits,” Danny observed as Tucker closed the door to the trailer.

“God, I can’t wait to find out if he saw you.” He could hear her grinning through the headset and honestly he felt the same. Out of all of them, Tucker would be the most excited about this addition.

The screen changed over to the menu screen, showing all their accomplished objectives. It also meant that all three party members could talk to each other again. “I can’t believe you left me!” Tucker complained. “It’s even worse when you’re in there on your own! Do you know how much more evidence we needed to collect? Um, a ton!”

Sam laughed, and Danny had to join in. “Okay so we are sorry about that, but Tucker did you ever see the ghost?”

“No, which is probably why I’m the only one that survived!” he complained.

“Oh my god Sam, he didn’t see it,” Danny groaned.

“Oh my god.”

“No wait, didn’t see what?” Tucker asked. His voice had calmed down a bit and was colored with curiosity.

“Tucker...the ghost was Danny,” Sam told him.

“Uh no, we clarified his name was Thomas,” Tucker corrected.

Sam and Danny both groaned. “No Tucker, the ghost was Danny Phantom. It was skinned to look like Phantom,” she clarified.

Tucker’s line sat silent for a long time before he finally exploded in a shower of shock, excitement, and regret. “NO WAY! No! That is so cool! I mean I knew the developers were fans, but this is so cool! Like literally the best tribute ever. Oh my god I can’t believe I missed it! No!” he cried. He was so loud into the microphone that Danny had a hard time believing Tucker didn’t wake his parents.

“It’s why both of us died,” Danny explained. “We were just too shocked seeing it.”

“We’re going back in. I need to see this,” Tucker demanded.

Danny bit his lip. He was not going back in. He meant it when he said he was done. He almost had his explanation on his lips before Sam spoke up first. “I doubt it’ll show up two times in a row. I Googled it and the skin will be here for the whole month of Halloween as a random draw, so you’ve got time to see it. But if you want to try again tonight, I’ll keep playing if you want. Danny...he needs to get some sleep.”

“What? No, it's so much easier with three people. Come on Danny,” Tucker pleaded.

“Nah, Sam’s right, I should go to bed. Gotta be rested for those real ghosts tomorrow,” Danny chuckled. “Besides, being killed by my own image was a little weird.” And also a little too close to home, considering some of his memories of Dan.

“Yeah, this game isn’t Danny’s jam,” Sam explained simply. He had a feeling Sam would talk to Tucker more about what they discussed while their avatars were dead, and honestly he didn’t mind. He didn’t want to keep secrets from Tucker, he just really didn’t want to talk about it any more tonight.

Tucker sighed. “Alright, fine, you’re off the hook. At least you gave it a try though.”

“I did, and you’re both gonna owe me one for doing it too,” Danny reminded them.

“Dude, pretty sure you’re in the negatives when it comes to IOUs from us,” Tucker pointed out with a good-natured laugh. “Testing out inventions, excuses at school, doing your homework, remembering the thermos when you forget it, distracting your parents…”

“Okay okay, I get it,” Danny groaned as he left the screen and exited out of the game. “Well fine, then I’m less in the negative now. And on that happy subject, I’m going to bed. Good night guys.”

“Good night Danny,” Sam replied. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Danny almost hung up on their private Discord server when he heard Tucker speak up. “Hey Danny, wait.”

“What?” he asked curiously, his mouse still hovering over the disconnect sign.

“The type of ghost...was a Phantom.”

I’ve never cross-posted on tumblr before, so this will be a first! I hope you enjoy!