#wrestling nonsense tag

[shunukitrash]

Oh right I forgot the jacket isn't techniiiically done yet cause I still wanna add more logos and I didn't paint the inside of the baler club logo black yet, but yeah!

[sesamestreep]

wip meme

tagged by @firstelevens to share some part of a WIP I’m working on!

“Did you just call me a shark?” Foggy asks, struggling with the fact that the morning light is cutting directly across his right eye in a way he finds profoundly unpleasant and the fact that he would also rather die than move right now. It’s a tough spot to be in. Matt makes an inarticulate noise against his shoulder and buries his face further into the pillow, not enjoying being woken up for conversation at this hour one bit, by the looks of things. Foggy nudges him gently. “Matt?” “I’m awake,” he says, in a way that directly contradicts his own assertion. “Wha—what’s it?” “I asked you a question…” “Yeah,” Matt says, fairly confidently for someone who definitely does not know what’s happening. “I heard you.” “So…?” “Yes.” “Yes, you did call me a shark?” Foggy asks, alarmed. “What?” Matt asks, equally alarmed and finally, mercifully awake enough for this conversation. “Why would I call you a shark?” “That’s what I’m trying to ascertain,” Foggy replies. “I don’t think you were fully awake yet and you said something that sounded like ‘room shark’ and it was right after I kissed you, so I assumed it was directed at me.” “Oh.” Foggy does his best not to sigh in frustration at that very Matt response, which tells him precisely nothing. “So, was it? Directed at me?” “It’s not ‘room shark’. It’s,” Matt says, before repeating the word from before, which still sounds suspiciously like ‘room shark’ to Foggy’s ears. This probably means he’s being made fun of, but, if so, Matt’s doing a good job of hiding it. Looking embarrassed, though, he adds, “It’s Gaeilge, Foggy. Irish?” “Oh.” He’s heard Matt speak Irish before, his heart doesn’t have to get fluttery about it every time. It’s getting more than a little pathetic. “Well, what does it mean?” “It’s not—it’s hard to translate exactly—I wasn’t really awake, so…” Foggy does let himself sigh this time, in case it wears Matt down at all. “Is that code for you’re not going to tell me?” Matt just buries his face in Foggy’s shoulder again, immune to any attempts to influence him by virtue of his sheer shamelessness. “I can’t have you knowing all my secrets,” he says, with a cryptic smile. “I have a reputation as a mysterious gentleman to maintain, you know.”

no pressure tagging @brattytrixie @firefeufuego and @flythesail if they want to share anything they’re working on ♥️

[banannabethchase]

Not So Bad Decisions - Also on AO3

~

Nick needs someone to stop him from getting a little too impulsive, from checking on Hangman in a way far from platonic. Matt is...not that person.

Paring: HangNick

Rating: E

~

For @wrestleprompts week 8: "I need advice" *time passes* "Never mind I've already done the stupid thing." Thanks to Nick for being so dramatic in BTE and to @sarahcakes613 for the pairing inspiration!

~

[1:53pm]

Matt I need you to talk me out of a stupid idea.

[1:56pm]

Matt pick up your damned phone. The treadmill is not that interesting.

[2:01pm]

Matt I need advice.

Nick waits another ten minutes, halfassing his crunches, then gives up.

“It’s gotta be a sign,” Nick decides, glancing around the room. Matt’s walking weird on the treadmill, phone nowhere to be seen. The adrenaline of the decision starts to push through him. “Matt’s always on his phone. If he’s not answering, the universe is telling me to do it.”

He sticks with that attitude as he makes his way out of the gym, down to the lobby, texting Tony to find out which room is Adam’s. He leans against the wall.

“Why are you being all weird?”

Nick jumps half a foot. “Jesus, can you just say hi like a normal person?”

Matt shrugs, walking next to Nick. “No. What are you doing?”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Something that you were supposed to dissuade me from doing.”

Matt opens his mouth, closes it. “This is probably a bad time,” he says, “but what does dissuade mean?”

“Being your brother is a hate crime,” Nick mutters. “You were supposed to convince me not to do this.”

“Not to do what?” Matt asks. “And why are we whispering?”

“Because I’m doing something stupid, now shut up,” Nick says. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“You left the gym really fast,” Matt says, shrugging. “I figured something was going on.”

“Well, leave,” Nick says. “I’m – I’m in the middle of something, okay?”

“In the middle of what?”

Nick groans. “Okay, I’m trying to surprise Hangman, because he’s back after nearly losing an eye.”

“Oh!” Matt says. He’s all sunny about it. “Cool. Can I join in?”

Nick sighs. “I mean. No?”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s illegal in, I think, every state in the union.”

Matt rolls his eyes. “What are you even talking about?”

“I’m trying to fuck Adam, Matthew,” Nick says, staring Matt down.

His eyes go wide. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Nick says. “So, it would be, like, great, if you would leave me alone. You were supposed to talk me out of this a while ago. But it’s too late. I’ve already decided to do the stupid thing.”

Matt wiggles a little. “Which is fucking Adam?”

“Yeah.” Nick eyes him. “Why are you all fidgety?”

Matt won’t meet his eyes. “I might have done something stupid, too.”

“Ah.” Nick nods. “Got it. Who’d you sleep with this time?”

“How do you know I slept with someone? I could have robbed a bank!”

Nick barks out a laugh. “No, you couldn’t have. Who was it?”

Matt won’t meet his eyes. “I might have run into Danny again.”

“Of course you did,” Nick says, sighing. “Well. I’m – I’m going to go make my own bad sexual decisions. So you can leave.”

Matt nods. “Yeah, I deserved that. Have fun?”

“Planning on it.” Nick can’t hold his smile back. He makes his way down the hallway and knocks on the door to Adam’s hotel room. He’s not sure what the door will open to, which version of Adam he’ll get. The chaos of the past few years speeds through is mind as he watches the handle of the door twist. He holds his breath.

“I didn’t order any – Nick.” Adam is standing there, eye covered by a dark patch. His hair is in a messy little bun, and he’s got on a soft, old Shania Twain tour tee shirt Nick remembers borrowing to sleep in dozens of times, soft navy sweatpants.

Adam looks like home, and Nick wants to step through the door.

“Hi,” Nick says. He shoves his hands in his pockets, determined not to let Adam see him shake. “I, um. I wanted to come see you.”

Adam nods and steps back. “Come on in, Nick.”

Nick can’t resist reaching out and bumping the back of Adam’s hand with his, desperate to feel him. It’s like an electric shock, the way his body responds to the touch. “So. Um. How’s the eye?”

“It’s been better, but they’re confident it will recover,” Adam says. He’s a bit fidgety, like he can’t decide if he wants to sit or not. “Wasn’t fun, though.”

“I love you.”

Adam whirls around. “Um. What?”

“They said nobody loves you,” Nick says, because the words are already out and he can’t put them back. “They lied. We all love you, Hanger. Me, and Kenny, and Matt. Brandon, Nak. Everybody loves you.”

Adam’s smile, somehow, is almost sad. “Thanks, man,” he says. His voice is gentle, soft. “I – that’s sweet of you.”

Nick’s not sure if he’s saying it right, if he’s getting his point across. “It’s really not,” Nick laughs. He takes a step toward Adam, who sits down on the bed. Nick feels strange, the way he now towers over Adam. “For me it’s different.”

“It is?” Adam asks. His eyes are earnest, almost glittering. His smile turns a little more knowing than Nick expects. “Like before different?”

“Like before different,” Nick confirms. He holds his hands, out, convinced he’ll die if Adam doesn’t respond. But he does.

“You love me for real?” Adam asks. He sounds so doubtful, like he doesn’t believe it. Nick doesn’t know how Adam could ever think someone wouldn’t love him.

“I do.”

Adam pulls at their hands so Nick stumbles into him, and then their lips meet, and Nick’s entire self melts into it. He climbs into Adam’s lap, straddling his thighs, burning in the best way at every place their bodies meet.

“Take off your shirt,” Adam murmurs against Nick’s lips.

Nick nods, yanking it over his head. “You, too.” He grabs at the hem and pulls it off. When their chests press together, Nick’s pretty sure he burns with it. “Oh, god.”

“Missed you,” Adam says, lips sliding down Nick’s neck. He sucks a bruise into Nick’s skin, hot and firm and devastating. His hands slide into the back of Nick’s shorts, grabbing handfuls of his ass.

“Please,” Nick gasps. “Adam, god, I missed you so much.”

Nick knows they don’t have the patience for anything complex, anything that demands time or delicate touches. He wants Adam’s hands on him now, and anything getting in the way of that is unacceptable.

“Get down on the bed,” Nick demands, pushing Adam back. Adam falls and Nick goes with him. He can feel Adam’s cock through the thin layers of clothing and can’t resist the urge to grind down on him. The two of them let out embarrassing, wanton sounds at the friction.

“Take – take your pants off,” Adam says, yanking down the shorts as best he can. Nick hates it, but he has to swing his legs off so the two of them can get naked and finally touch each other. They collide into each other once their clothes are strewn about the room, touching and pressing and feeling, finally feeling, for the first time in years.

“I missed you,” Adam says, sliding his hand into Nick’s ponytail, puling the hair tie out. “I missed you so much.” He licks his hand and slides down between them, gripping both cocks in one big hand and pulling a stroke.

“Oh, my god,” Nick exhales, head spinning. “Don’t – don’t stop.”

“Not planning on it,” Adam says. His green eyes bore into Nick’s like he’s trying to memorize his face.

Nick reaches out and yanks Adam in for a kiss, and it’s over so fucking fast, too fast, almost, the two of them coming within seconds of each other. Adam’s name lingers on this tongue, and Nick feels whole for the first time in years.

“So,” Adam says, half panting, “um. That happened.”

“It did,” Nick laughs. And then that worry, the reason he hesitated to come here, settles back over him again. “Do – do you think we could.” He pauses. “Can we.” He pauses again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Nick,” Adam says, and his voice is so gentle and sweet Nick wants to die a little bit, just for that to be the sound that dies with him, “are you asking me if we can get back together?”

Nick opens his eyes. “I think I am.”

“I think so,” Adam says. He reaches out and brushes some of Nick’s hair off of his shoulder, his smile sweet. “I want to.”

All of that worry, the anxiety, the fear from earlier disappears. “So I get to call you, like, my boyfriend again?” Nick teases. “Are we going steady? Want my letterman jacket?”

“Oh, shut up,” Adam laughs. He pulls his hand away and wrinkles his nose. “Alright, well, I need to go clean this up, but when I come back let’s get dinner, okay?”

Nick nods, sitting up. “Oh. Ew. It’s all over me too.”

They stumble into the bathroom and somehow end up in the shower. They wash each other’s hair, like they always used to, and Nick forgot just how much Adam felt like home.

They wrap themselves in towels and make their way back into the bedroom, where Nick’s hit with a sudden chill. “I’m cold,” Nick mumbles. “How is Pittsburgh this cold in April?” He reaches out to the nightstand, where one of their shirts got caught on the lamp. “Oh, good.”

“What are you – you can’t steal my Shania shirt again!” Adam whines, but he’s smiling, and Nick wants this moment every morning, every evening, all the time.

“Too bad, baby.” Nick pulls the shirt on over his head, and it feels like, maybe, all of this is going to be real. “It’s mine.”

Adam beams at the nickname. “Okay. Fine. But only because you love me.”

~

A ficlet of your choice to whomever can find the Fairly OddParents reference, because I can't control my echolalia and I'm gonna make it everybody's problem.

Mini Playlist: Meant to Be - Bebe Rexha, Florida Georgia Line If I Fall (You're Going Down with Me) - The Chicks Touch - Little Mix Forever and for Always - Shania Twain

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Jacked Up Love

part 2

Jack Hughes X Best Friend! Reader

(Brothers Best Friend AU)

a.n: I have been debating whether to add some spice to this but after not seeing it fit my ending yet, it will be in part 4 or 5 instead. this one feels a little short but it's getting the story going until we have our final confrontation. I hope you guys enjoy and please message me if you have any questions or want to be added to the tag list. <3

warnings: flirting, not proofread, fuckboy jack, kissing, cursing, mentions of cheating?

masterlist link

Summary: Hurt and angry, Y/N avoids Jack for most of the night until he confronts her as the party winds down. Just as things are heating up between Y/N and Jack, Lee walks in on Y/N and Jack in an intimate moment.

word count - 4341

...

Jack chuckled as he observed Quinn and his dad bickering good-naturedly over the stove. Quinn kept trying to slather more sauce onto the ribs, much to Jim's exasperation.

"No, no, you're doing it all wrong!" Jim complained, attempting to wrestle the basting brush from Quinn's hand. "You're supposed to let the meat speak for itself, not drown it in that sugary nonsense."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, live a little! Everyone knows the secret to killer ribs is in the sauce dad."

Their playful argument carried across the large house, drawing amused glances from the other partygoers. Jack shook his head, grinning at their antics. He loved these laid-back gatherings in the winter, where everyone could just kick back and enjoy each other's company.

Turning his attention back to Lee, Jack tried to focus on their conversation about the latest Cardinals game. "...and did you see that pass in the third period?" Lee was saying excitedly, his hands waving animatedly as he recounted the highlights of the game. "I thought for sure they were going to score off that turnover."

Luke nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yeah, man, that was a close call. But the goalie really stepped up his game tonight. Those saves were unreal."

They continued to chat, their voices rising and falling with the ebb and flow of their enthusiasm. He tried to focus on the words, but a familiar laugh rang out, causing his heart to skip a beat. Jack's attention drifted from Lee's animated play-by-play of the game, his gaze inexorably drawn to where you stood by the dessert table with your girlfriends.

You were laughing at something Mia had said, your eyes sparkling with mirth. Jack watched, transfixed, as you tipped your head back, exposing the smooth column of your throat. Time seemed to slow as he took in the sight of you, the rest of the party fading into the background.

Lee, oblivious to Jack's distraction, continued chattering on about batting averages and on-base percentages. But Jack was only half-listening, his attention continually drawn back to you. "Hey, Jack! Did you catch that insane goal in overtime?"

Jack merely hummed noncommittally, his tone casual. "Yeah, yeah, I saw that. Pretty sick shot."

His gaze traced the curve of your smile, the fullness of your lips. An ache blossomed in his chest, a longing so acute it stole his breath. What would it feel like, he wondered, to have those lips pressed against his own? To trail his fingers along the silken expanse of your skin, to hear you sigh his name in the darkness?

In a trance, Jack's eyes roamed over you, drinking in every detail. The way your dress clung to your curves, the faint smell of your perfume on the jacket he had offered you outside, which of course you had given back covered in your smell. You were a masterpiece, a work of art come to life.

God, you were beautiful.

And then, as if sensing the weight of his stare, you turned. Your eyes met his across the flickering flames, and the world ground to a halt. In that suspended moment, Jack felt a jolt of electricity coursing through his veins, a pull towards you that was almost gravitational.

Your lips curved into a soft, secret smile, and Jack's heart stuttered in his chest. That smile held a thousand unspoken promises, a wealth of possibility that both terrified and thrilled him. He knew he should look away, knew he was treading on dangerous ground. But he was powerless to resist the magnetic allure of your gaze, the siren song of your presence.

Did you have any idea what you did to him? How much he wanted to pull you into his arms, consequences be damned?

He took a swig of his beer, trying to calm the riot of emotions swirling inside him. This was getting out of hand. He needed to get a grip on himself before he did something stupid.

Like confess his feelings for you, the one girl who was absolutely, completely off-limits...

Shaking his head, Jack forced himself to focus on Lee's words, determined to push all thoughts of you from his mind. At least for now.

But deep down, he knew it was futile. Because when it came to you, resistance had always been impossible. And maybe, just maybe... that was starting to feel more thrilling than frightening.

"Right? I thought the puck was going to bounce right off the crossbar, but nope - top shelf, baby!" Lee nodded, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around him.

…

"No, but seriously," Ava said, her face deadpan, "I think I'm going to start a GoFundMe for my boss's fashion sense. It's a tragedy, really. The man needs an intervention."

Sophie snorted. "What, you mean the 'middle-aged dad on vacation' look isn't working for him?"

"Please," you chimed in, grinning, "I've seen actual dads on vacation with better style. He's more like... a cross between a used car salesman and a cruise ship entertainer."

Mia nearly choked on her drink. "Oh my god, I can't unsee it now. The tacky Hawaiian shirts, the ill-fitting khakis..."

"Don't forget the socks with sandals!" Ava added, shuddering dramatically.

You all burst into laughter, the absurdity of the image too much to handle. Your shoulders shook with mirth, tears of hilarity pricking at the corners of your eyes. But then, gradually, you became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of your neck. The unmistakable feeling of being watched, the stare burning into your skin like a physical caress.

Still giggling, you scanned the crowd of faces, trying to catch the culprit. Your gaze flitted from person to person - Uncle Joe by the cooler, Quinn and Jim still arguing over the grill, a group of Lee's friends from college - but no one seemed to be paying you any attention.

Until your eyes locked with a pair of striking blue ones.

Jack.

The laughter died on your lips as your breath caught in your throat. He was staring at you intensely. The old, faded baseball cap perched backwards on his head did little to tame his unruly dark hair, and the worn grey hoodie he wore strained against the muscles of his chest and shoulders.

Your heart stuttered in your chest as you drank him in, heat rising unbidden to your cheeks. In that suspended moment, it was as if everyone else simply fell away, leaving only you and Jack, connected by some invisible, unbreakable thread.

But then Lee came into view, saying something to Jack with an easygoing grin. The spell was broken as quickly as it had been cast, uncertainty flooding in to fill the void.

Swallowing hard, you tore your gaze away, only to find Mia watching you with a knowing smirk. Her green eyes sparkled with barely contained laughter, and you knew you'd been caught red-handed.

"Shut up," you muttered, feeling your face flame even hotter.

Mia held up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I didn't say anything! But seriously, Y/N, when are you going to put that poor boy out of his misery and jump his bones already?"

"Mia!" you hissed, mortified. "It's not... I can't... he's Lee's best friend!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "So? That doesn't mean you two can't get your freak on. Just think of how hot the sneaking around would be..."

You buried your face in your hands, torn between laughter and abject horror. "I hate you all. You're the worst friends ever."

Ava slung an arm around your shoulders, grinning. "Nah, you love us. And you know we've got your back, no matter what. Even if 'what' is climbing that tall, dark, and broody tree over there like it's your job."

Despite your embarrassment, you couldn't help but dissolve into giggles once more, your heart feeling lighter than it had all evening.

…

You snuggled deeper into the cozy embrace of the blanket, content to simply bask in the company of your friends. Ava, Mia, and Sophie had settled into the chairs around you, the conversation flowing as easily as the alcohol.

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself growing increasingly drowsy, the events of the day finally catching up to you. Your eyelids grew heavy, and you had to fight to keep them open. Dimly, you registered Quinn hopping off rib duty, his arm slung around his girlfriend's shoulders as they made their way to the other living room, easily getting swept into his mothers conversation.

A moment later, Lee and Luke disappeared upstairs, their good-natured trash talk about the upcoming NHL game fading as the door swung shut behind them. Suddenly, feeling restless, you stood up - only to sway on your feet, the blanket flopping back down onto the love seat.

The world tilted alarmingly, and for a dizzying second, you were certain you were about to face-plant right into new glass table Ellen had bought.

quick as a flash, strong hands gripped your arms, steadying you. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself being tugged down onto a solid, warm lap.

"Hi, Mini," Jack's deep, honeyed voice rumbled in your ear, sending a shiver racing down your spine that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Your heart leapt into your throat, a giddy thrill coursing through you at his close proximity. This was the closest you'd been to him all night, and the heat of his body seemed to seep into your very bones.

Tipping your head back, you met his gaze, a slow smile spreading across your face. There was just something about Jack, something that never failed to bring a grin to your lips and a flutter to your pulse.

Whatever it was, you knew you were hopelessly entangled in his web, caught in a pull that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

"Hi yourself," you murmured, your voice coming out breathier than you'd intended. "You come here often?"

Jack's lips quirked, his arms tightening around your waist. "Well, you know me. I never could resist a damsel in distress."

You laughed, swatting at his chest. "My hero. Whatever would I do without you?"

His expression softened, something tender and unguarded flickering in his gaze. "Guess you'll never have to find out, huh?"

Your breath caught at the unspoken promise in his words, the implications hanging heavy in the scant space between you. Suddenly, the air felt charged, electric, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks.

Awareness prickled over your skin as you stared up at him, your senses hyperattuned to every flex of his fingers on your hip, every hitch in his breathing. The rest of the world seemed to recede, fading into insignificance until there was only this - the crackle of the fire, the pounding of your heart, and the magnetic pull of Jack's eyes on yours.

It would be so easy, you thought hazily, to just lean in and close the distance between you. To finally, finally discover if his lips were as soft as they looked, if he tasted as good as you'd always imagined...

But then a burst of raucous laughter from across the yard shattered the spell, jolting you back to reality. You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as you realized just how close you'd been to kissing your brother's best friend - in full view of everyone, no less.

Clearing your throat, you started to pull away, only for Jack's arms to tighten around you. "Hey," he said softly, his voice low and intimate. "Where do you think you're going?"

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering against your ribs. "I... I should probably go check on Lee upstairs. He gets super sensitive over chel, you know that." It was a flimsy excuse, and from the knowing glint in Jack's eyes, he wasn't buying it for a second. But he loosened his hold, nonetheless, letting you slide off his lap on unsteady legs.

"Hurry back," he murmured, his gaze hot and heavy on your skin. "I'll be waiting."

And as you stumbled away, your pulse racing and your mind awhirl, you couldn't help but wonder...

What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

You knew you needed to be more careful, needed to keep a tighter rein on your reactions to Jack. The last thing you wanted was for Lee to catch on to the tangle of feelings knotting in your chest.

…

You managed to tear yourself away from the magnetic pull of Jack's presence, mumbling some excuse to your friends about needing to use the bathroom. But instead of heading inside, you found yourself climbing the stairs, drawn by the muffled shouts and laughter emanating from Lee's bedroom.

As you reached the top of the landing, the sounds of aggressive button-mashing and colorful trash talk grew louder, bringing a smile to your face. Some things never changed.

Pushing open the door, you were greeted by the sight of Lee and Luke sprawled out on the floor, controllers in hand, their eyes glued to the giant TV screen. They were in the middle of an intense NHL match, their players zipping across the virtual ice in a blur of motion.

"No, no, no!" Lee yelled, his face scrunched up in concentration as he mashed the buttons frantically. "Don't let him get past you, you idiot!"

Luke cackled, his fingers flying over his own controller. "Too late, bro! That's what you get for picking such a weak-ass team."

Lee let out a growl of frustration as Luke's player scored a goal, the tinny sound of a horn blaring from the speakers. "Lucky shot," he grumbled, elbowing his friend in the ribs. "I'll get you back for that."

"Bring it on, loser," Luke taunted, his grin wide and shit-eating. "I could beat you with one hand tied behind my back."

You leaned against the doorframe, shaking your head in amusement as you watched them bicker and shove at each other like overgrown children. It was moments like these that made you forget all about the stresses and uncertainties of adulthood, transporting you back to simpler times.

"Having fun, boys?" you asked, your voice cutting through their competitive banter.

Two heads swiveled in your direction, identical expressions of surprise on their faces. "Oh, hey, Y/N," Lee said, his annoyance melting into an easy smile. "Didn't see you there."

"Yeah, we were just schooling each other in the art of hockey," Luke chimed in, puffing out his chest. "Wanna see me kick your brother's ass?"

You snorted, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. "As much as I'd love to witness that thrashing, I actually came up to see if you guys wanted any snacks. Though from the looks of it, you've already got enough beef to feed a small army."

Lee rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at your head which you deftly dodged. "Har har, very funny. But yeah, some snacks would be awesome. I'm starving."

"When are you not starving?" you teased, ruffling his hair affectionately. "I swear, you're like a human garbage disposal."

"Hey, I'm a growing boy!" Lee protested, swatting your hand away. "I need my sustenance."

Luke snickered, ducking as Lee tried to smack him with a controller. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. I think you stopped growing in the eighth grade."

As the two dissolved into another round of good-natured ribbing, you couldn't help but laugh, your heart swelling with fondness for these ridiculous, wonderful boys.

They might drive you crazy sometimes, but moments like these? Where you could just relax and joke around, forgetting about all the complications and uncertainties of the real world?

They were priceless.

So you settled yourself on the bed, content to watch Lee and Luke battle it out on the digital ice, their laughter and trash talk washing over you like a balm.

And for a little while, at least, you let yourself forget about the heat of Jack's gaze, the confusion swirling in your heart.

…

you headed back downstairs, the warmth of your impromptu hangout session with Lee and Luke still buzzing pleasantly under your skin, you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of resolve.

So what if you had some complicated, confusing feelings for Jack? So what if his mere presence sent your pulse racing and your thoughts spiraling into dangerous, uncharted territory? At the end of the day, he was like a brother to you - and that was something you couldn't afford to lose.

Squaring your shoulders, you stepped down into the living room, determined to put some distance between yourself and the magnetic pull of Jack's orbit. You'd just grab another drink, maybe chat with your friends for a bit, and then make some excuse about needing to head home early. Easy peasy.

Ava, Mia, and Sophie were huddled together, their heads bent close as they whispered furiously to each other. The easy laughter and playful banter from earlier had vanished, replaced by a tense, almost electric undercurrent that set your nerves on edge.

"Hey guys," you said cautiously, sinking down into your seat. "What's going on?"

Three pairs of eyes snapped to your face, wide and startled, like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh, Y/N! We were just..." Mia trailed off, shooting a panicked look at the other two.

Sophie jumped in, her voice a little too bright, a little too brittle. "We were just talking about... boys. You know, the usual."

But there was something off about her tone, something strained and artificial that set your internal alarms blaring. You'd known these girls long enough to tell when they were hiding something - and right now? They were definitely hiding something.

"Cut the crap, Soph," you said, your gaze flicking between the three of them. "I know you guys better than that. Seriously, what's up? You're starting to freak me out."

"Y/N, we need to talk. It's about Jack."

Your stomach dropped, a cold, creeping dread slithering up your spine at the mention of his name, but you tried to play it cool. "What about him?"

Mia and Sophie exchanged a loaded glance, she nodded encouragingly, their faces grim as Mia spoke up, her voice low and conspiratorial. "We overheard him talking to Luke earlier, and... well, he said some things. About you."

Your mind raced, a thousand possibilities whirling through your head. What could she possibly mean? A cold sense of dread trickled down your spine. "What kind of things?"

Sophie bit her lip, looking uncomfortable. "He was laughing about how easy it was to string you along, how you were just another notch in his bedpost. He even said..." She paused, as if gathering her courage. "He said he had a bet going with his teammates to see how fast he could get you into bed."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from your lungs. It couldn't be true. Jack wouldn't... he couldn't...not after tonight.

But even as you tried to deny it, doubt began to creep in, insidious and corrosive. All those moments between you - the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the whispered promises - had they all been a lie? A cruel game played by a master manipulator?

Anger surged through you, hot and bitter, mingling with the sharp sting of betrayal. How could you have been so stupid, so naive?

"I... I need some air," you mumbled, stumbling to your feet and away from the concerned gazes of your friends.

you wove your way through the crowd of laughing, chattering partygoers, a sudden commotion near the edge of the yard caught your attention. Frowning, you craned your neck, trying to get a better look - only for your heart to plummet straight into your stomach.

There, surrounded by his friends near the Christmas tree, was Jack - and he wasn't alone. A tall, stunning brunette was glued to his side, their arms pressed flush against each other as she leaned into him, whispering something in his ear.

For a moment, you couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stare as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. Hurt, betrayal, and a searing, white-hot jealousy that took your breath away with its intensity.

You watched, frozen, as Jack threw his head back and laughed at something the girl said, throwing his arm over her shoulder. They looked so comfortable together, so natural - like they'd done this a thousand times before.

And just like that, the fragile bubble of denial you'd been clinging to burst, the illusion shattering like glass at your feet.

You were such a fool.

Of course Jack didn't have feelings for you. Of course he saw you as nothing more than his best friend's kid sister, a silly little girl with a hopeless crush. How could you have ever thought otherwise?

For the rest of the night, you did your best to avoid Jack, always keeping him in your peripheral vision but never letting him get too close. Every time you caught a glimpse of his tousled hair or heard the rumble of his deep laugh, your heart clenched painfully, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over you.

But as the party began to wind down and guests started to trickle out, you found yourself cornered by the one person you'd been desperately trying to evade.

"Y/N." Jack's voice was low and urgent as he caught your elbow, spinning you around to face him.

"Nothing," you managed to choke out, your voice cracking traitorously. "I'm fine. I just... I need to go."

But even as you tried to pull away, Jack's grip on your arm tightened, his fingers digging into your skin with a desperate sort of urgency. "Wait, please. Just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

You yanked your arm from his grasp, glaring up at him with all the fury and hurt you could muster. "I have nothing to say to you, Jack."

His brow furrowed, confusion etched across his unfairly handsome features. "What's going on? You've been avoiding me all night. Did I... did I do something wrong?"

"Why do you care?" you spat, the words bitter and acidic on your tongue. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your girlfriend over there?" Jack blinked, a flicker of confusion passing over his stupidly handsome face. A harsh, bitter laugh tore from your throat. "Don't play dumb, Jack. I know all about your little bet. About how I'm just another checkmark to you."

Jack's eyes widened, shock and disbelief warring on his face. "What? Y/N, that's insane. I would never... who told you that?"

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a shield. "Does it matter? The point is, I know the truth now. I know what kind of guy you really are."

He took a step closer, crowding into your personal space, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that stole your breath. "The truth? The truth is that I'm crazy about you, Y/N. I have been for years." Your heart stuttered in your chest, a traitorous flutter of hope sparking to life. "That girl... she's just a friend. I swear. There's nothing going on between us," he insisted, his voice low and fervent.

One hand came up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a tenderness that made you ache. "I could never lie to you, Y/N. You're... you're everything to me."

You wanted to believe him. God, how you wanted to believe him. But the seeds of doubt had already taken root, twisting your thoughts into knots.

"I don't... I can't..." you whispered, hating the way your voice shook.

Jack's other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of his body. "Then let me prove it to you," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

And then his mouth was on yours, fierce and desperate and achingly perfect, his kiss searing away every last shred of resistance. You melted into him, a broken moan rising in your throat as his tongue swept over yours, claiming and possessing and branding you as his own.

The kiss was electric, a live wire igniting every nerve ending in your body until you felt like you might burst into flames right then and there. His hands slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the silky strands as he angled your head, deepening the kiss until you were drowning in him, lost to everything but the heat of his touch and the sweet, dark bliss of his mouth on yours.

"It's you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice low and raw with emotion. "It's always been you." 😉

just as you were losing yourself completely in his embrace, a familiar voice cut through the haze of desire, shattering the intimate bubble you'd created. "Where's Y/N?" Lee called out, his footsteps echoing on the stairs.

You and Jack froze, your lips still locked together, your bodies intertwined. What were you doing? Making out with your brother's best friend, in the middle of a party, where anyone could see you...

Jack sensed your sudden tension, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Shit," you muttered. Your mind raced, frantically searching for an excuse, any excuse. "I… I'll just tell him I was in the bathroom or we were just talking," you whispered, straightening your clothes with shaking hands.

"Hey," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair back from your face. "It's okay. We don't have to hide."

You swallowed hard, your throat tight with emotion. "But Lee... what if he..."

"What if I what?" Lee's voice was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

Your heart lodged in your throat, fear and guilt and a desperate, wild hope all tangling together in your chest. This was it. The moment of truth. Once Lee walked through that door, there would be no going back.

...

Tag List <3

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[schadentekkers]

~ CHRIS & DREW MASTERPOST ~

putting together a list of matches available online featuring chris and drew either teaming together or against each other bc i have no life! and also for my fellow chrisdrew heads bc we gotta stick together.

some of these links will be behind a paywall, but i will try my best to find options that are not!! they'll be in order of year and organized by promotion. i have not been able to find any of their matches pre-2017, but i will continue my search until the day i die.

LUCHA FOREVER - the dawning of forever -> cck + chief deputy dunne vs. drew, bea priestley, + el ligero (2:15:00 timestamp)

ATTACK PRO WRESTLING - damplified -> cck vs. drew and shax

dear maria tag me in -> chris and pete dunne vs. drew and elijah

lifestyles of the weird and the wonderful -> chris vs. drew

nonstop feeling (pressure to succeed) -> chris, chief deputy dunne + wild boar vs. drew, lk mezinger + mike bird

live at the dome 3 -> chris vs. drew

**unfortunately, most attack pro shows are not available anywhere else other than the linked site, as far as i've found. the good thing is, the sub price isn't too steep, however they don't have all of their shows available, so some chris&drew matches are missing :(

PWC - the chaos element -> chris vs. drew (1:22:00 timestamp)

PROGRESS - chapter 82: unboxing day -> chris vs. drew, no dq (1:20:35 timestamp)

IPW - tuesday night graps forever -> cck + (inflatable) pete dunne vs. drew, el phantasmo, + the invisible man (45:30 timestamp) also with aussie open on comms. a good time

DDT - summer vacation 2020 -> chris + drew vs. damnation (57:40 timestamp)

get alive 2020 -> chris vs. drew, no dq for the universal title (1:34:20 timestamp)

who's gonna top? 2020 -> chris + drew vs. yuki ueno + naomi yoshimura (1:02:25 timestamp)

d-oh grand prix 2021 in ota-ku - chris + drew vs. mao + shunma (1:30:20 timestamp)

super encounter #1 - chris + drew vs. mao + shunma streetfight

super encounter #6 - chris + drew vs. mao + shunma vs. saki akai + hagane shinno

judgement 2023 -> chris, drew + hagane shinno vs. damnation t.a (2:40:30 timestamp)

BJW - 12.30.2021 -> chris + drew vs. astronauts (1:31:40 timestamp)

only the young -> chris + drew vs. kota sekifudo + yuya aoki (8:46 timestamp)

2 young 2 die -> chris + drew vs. isami kodaka + yuko miyamoto

front row -> chris + drew vs. kankuro hoshino + akira hyodo

young man standing -> chris + drew vs. kota sekisada & mitsuru takeda

ten minutes -> chris + drew vs. daisuke sekimoto & yuya aoki

**sadly the last half of the bjw shows i'm unable to find anywhere other than the bjw core website which is behind a paywall

GAKE NO FUCHI JOSHI - it's summer isn't it? -> drew + rina yamashita vs. chris + miyako matsumoto

clockwork -> chris vs. suzu suzuki (this is a chris match, but drew is his second and he does get involved in the hijinks)

snow white -> chris vs. miyako matsumoto (drew as chris' second again getting involved in the wonderful nonsense that is this match)

happy death day -> chris, drew + veny vs. miyako matsumoto, rina yamashita, + jun kasai (1:32:40 timestamp)

GANBARE PRO - kocho ranbo -> chris, drew + miyako matsumoto vs. veny, hagane shinno, + shinichiro tominaga (51:50 timestamp)

GATOH MOVE - chocopro # 179 -> chris + drew vs. baliyan akki + yuna mizumori

BAKA GAIJIN - vol. 1 -> chris vs. drew / chris + masa vs. drew + mao (1:01:30 timestamp)

vol. 4 -> chris + masa vs. drew + rina (1:10:40 timestamp)

i am also going to link this podcast that they did so everyone can mourn with me the fact that they only did one episode </3

AND that is the end of the list, for now! yay yippee! please enjoy

[sweetbunpura]

Updated Yuu chart~

Lover:

Yuu and Floyd was a surprise relationship that no one in NRC understands how it happened, unless you're Jade and Azul who saw it coming a mile away. They got together sometime after the events of book 4 but before book 5 started. What started out as Floyd seeking Yuu out because she was entertaining, became him seeking her out as he started craving her attention and being around her made it feel as if he could be himself without being judged. Yuu saw Floyd as someone to tag along with if you were bored and it swiftly became that she wanted to see him smile more, hear him laugh, hear him do anything. Both of them fuel the chaos the other can bring, but Yuu can calmly talk Floyd down unless someone pissed her off, then you got both angry at someone.

They very much love each other and it's nigh constant honeymoon phase for the pair.

Best Friend:

Ace and Yuu is self explanatory, one of the first jokers that managed to worm his way into her heart, even if she wants to kick his ass 50% of the time. While Yuu tries not to get into the shenanigans Ace finds himself in, sometimes caused by his own fault, she can't help but be pulled along for the ride. And as the story goes in TWST, She and our Adeuce combo are a set, do not separate.

Deuce and Yuu is also self explanatory, a pair of delinquents becoming best friends. Yuu was more than set for hating this world but seeing how Deuce tried to genuinely help her at every turn, made her change her mind. Deuce is the sole reason Yuu managed to open up to the students at NRC. Even though he didn't know she was a girl at first, it didn't change how he treated her once it was revealed (although he was a little shy when speaking to her afterwards).

Leona and Yuu grew to be friends after the stunt she pulled when she and Grim had to crash at Savanaclaw. Yuu had a habit of being able to find him and, for once, Leona didn't mind someone's company. The two end up talking, sleeping, or sometimes they can be seen playing chess or shogi (Yuu introduced it to him after talking about it). Leona grew to fall in love with Yuu and Yuu herself developed a crush on him. Of course, when she got with Floyd, that tanked their relationship for a bit and it only fixed itself after she sat him down and talked about it. The crush rears its head every now and then, but they're still best friends and that's something Leona absolutely treasures.

Jack and Yuu became very fast friends during the events of book 2 and it just grew from there. Out of all the first years, Jack is the one Yuu respects the most and if he ever gets in trouble. she would bail him out in a second (Ace and Deuce cause too much trouble so she waits to come to their aid). Jack is stronger that Yuu and they often have arm wrestling matches to she how far she's come. He's also her gym buddy, along with Epel, and Jack often pushes Yuu to do better.

Epel and Yuu are a pair of chaotic people when together, often times giving Vil a headache in the process. Yuu didn't like the gendering nonsense Epel did during book 5, but eventually they became good friends. Epel often breaks out into his country accent around Yuu and she can only understand about half of it, but still lets him speak. Once Epel saw that Yuu has muscles, he started tagging along with her and Jack so that he could try and get strong like them.

Ortho and Yuu's relationship is that image from B99 with Rosa holding the dog. "I've known Ortho for a day but if anything were to happen to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself." Yuu adores Ortho and really can't say no to him and he uses that to his advantage for getting her to come hang out with him and Idia. Even after the events of book 6, she couldn't find it in herself to be mad at him. Ortho sees Yuu as a big sister and always loves having her around.

Friend:

Cater and Yuu didn't get along at first, due to Yuu not really liking Cater's personality. They became slow friends and now Cater goes to Yuu if he needs to unwind and put his fake smile to rest. Yuu makes Cater spicy desserts and he became addicted really fast to them.

Jade and Yuu's friendship didn't really start until after her and Floyd got together. Yuu decided that she wanted to know more about Jade since they both share a love of nature. Jade was caught off-guard by her openness to wanting to know him, which he at first chalked up to her doing so out of obligation for dating Floyd. Jade has become quite protective of Yuu as well, both because she's Floyds partner and because she's a friend.

Kalim and Yuu's friendship is an interesting one. Basically, as soon as they meet, it started, which was unknown to Yuu at the time. Kalim's happy personality could give Yuu cavities and she can only handle so much of it at a time. He comes to her for help on how to do things himself, such as cooking and cleaning, She has received so many gifts from him for her help, that she can't say no to due to Kalim refusing to listen.

Vil and Yuu are a very interesting friendship. Yuu thought he was gonna be one of those "mean girls" at first, but soon learned that he wasn't. Yuu often tells Vil that he doesn't have to keep up that model persona around her and to just been a teenager. Vil has learned a bit from Yuu, namely how she handles herself around a school full of guys. Yuu and Vil constantly be beating those "You should act like your gender" nonsense. Both also bond over their shared dislike of Neige.

Idia and Yuu are video game buddies. He was shy around her at first, until he learned of her gaming knowledge, now they both complain about their SR and UR luck. Idia invites Yuu over for gaming tournaments and she is a menace in any team match.

Malleus and Yuu's friendship is different than how it's portrayed in the game. Although Malleus seeks Yuu out at night for talks, she sometimes keeps her distance from him. She finds him off-putting in a sense, but does like Malleus enough to form a friendship and give him the nickname of "Tsunotaro".

Lilia and Yuu's relationship is just literally them both hyping each other up. Lilia, when he comes to Yuu asking if he looks cute in an outfit and Yuu, when she comes to Lilia for somewhat stupid things. She has also banned him from her kitchen in Ramshackle after he bent one of the pots.

Sebek and Yuu's friendship definitely one that needs time to improve and grow. But they are friends, learning how the other one works. Given that Yuu is Mallues' friend, Sebek wanted to make sure she wasn't planning anything foul that morphed into him protecting her without him realizing it. Yuu tends to keep Sebek on his toes when she does stupid stunts.

Acquaintance to Friend:

Riddle and Yuu's is a slow process, but Riddle appreciates it. Yuu's basically having to rewrite what was established in his head by his harpy of a mother. Riddle does question Yuu's chose of a partner, but on the other hand, she has saved Riddle from being annoyed by Floyd.

Trey and Yuu are baking buddies. Often time spilling out their problems as they bake. Yuu has apologized to Trey for what she said about him during book 1, Trey said that she was right and she didn't have to. Trey has unintentionally become a big brother to her, despite them being the same age.

Ruggie and Yuu are the "Broke Buddies". Ruggies sometimes stops by Ramshackle when he needs a break, or when Yuu has made donuts. The two aren't seen together often, but if they are, that means they've most likely stolen something from someone. Ruggie sometimes uses "Laugh with me" on people who annoyed Yuu.

Jamil and Yuu's friendship was probably the longest it took to fix. Starting out from acquaintance, to being dislike, then back to acquaintance, and slowly becoming a friend. She straight up kept calling him "Viper" until the end of book 5. Jamil no longer sees Yuu as a nuisance, but the two sometimes mess with each other and often Jamil goes to Ramshackle to relax (and escape Kalim)

Acquaintance:

Azul and Yuu's friendship is more of Azul being only slightly scared of Yuu after book 3 (She beat him up with a part of the lounge that broke off during his overblot). He sometimes calls on Yuu to try and wrangle Floyd, but doesn't realize his mistake until it's too late. Weirdly enough, Yuu is sorta protective of Azul and somehow ended up becoming an enforcer like Jade and Floyd.

Rook and Yuu is Yuu trying her hardest with Rook and his personality, but Rook is rook. She doesn't hate him, she's just a little unnerved by him, but she can count of Rook to have her back in situations. Rook, of course, sings Yuu's praises for everything she does. The ultimate unhinged hype man.

Silver and Yuu's friendship is tied into the rest of the Diasomnia family, but she is curious about him. He's a mystery to her. Silver on the other hand, likes Yuu. He likes how much she means to the other Diasomnia members, likes how much time she spends with Lilia. He would also protect her in a heartbeat.

[intotheelliwoods]

2 Arms Left Masterpost (Part 3)

(Part 1) - Main Comic Masterpost

(Part 2) - Mini Comic Maserpost

(Part 3) - Bonus Drawings

(Part 4) - More Bonus Drawings

(Part 5) - Crossovers, tags, references and misc sagas

Below the cut is just fun little bonus drawings before major plot hit!

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

Bonus drawings #1 - Leo reference + a smoothie

Bonus drawings #2 - Leo reference, part 2!

Bonus drawings #3 - Self destruct

Bonus drawings #4 - Stump aches,, part 2!!

Bonus drawings #5 - Post-Surgery pains

Bonus drawings #6 - Why are they hugging?

Bonus drawings #7 - Jungle gym brother

Bonus drawings #8 - They are homies!!

Bonus drawings #9 - If youre happy and you know it clap your hands!

Bonus drawings #10 - At least neither Leo is alone in the one arm situation

Bonus drawings #11 - He found the flamethrower...

Bonus drawings #12 - Robot arm wrestling match!?

Bonus drawings #13 - Uno, the game that destroys families..

Bonus drawings #14 - Strike a pose!

Bonus drawings #15 - They are huggy?? Splinters reaction?

Bonus drawings #16 - The Traumatic Event color palette

Bonus drawings #17 - The Calm Mindscape palette

Bonus drawings #18 - Thoughts on anyone touching little Leo's stump?

Bonus drawings #19- Gaming together!

Bonus drawings #20 - I am normal about his bean brows.

Bonus drawings #21 - He is a tea person!

Bonus drawings #22 - Did you know I draw this all in aggie.io??

Bonus drawings #23 - Little Leo likes to be held :)

Bonus drawings #24 - Little Leo is a little pea sprout

Bonus drawings #25 - Some comfort in these trying times

Bonus drawings #26 - Pistachio.

Bonus drawings #27 - Hmmm.

Bonus drawings #28 - Mindscape shenanigans~

Bonus drawings #29 - squeak squeak squeak squeak squ-

Bonus drawings #30 - An assortment of doodles

Bonus drawings #31 - What would a grown up Little Leo look like?

Bonus drawings #32 - Shrink the beans

Bonus drawings #33 - Little Leo fidgets

Bonus drawings #34 - What does Future Donnie think about Leos natural brows?

Bonus drawings #35 - GROW the beans

Bonus drawings #36 - Casey and Future Leo travels!

Bonus drawings #37 - Little Leo becomes Medium Leo!

Bonus drawings #38 - Baby carrier

Bonus drawings #39 - Medium Leo beans! And stims!?

Bonus drawings #40 - Mindscape nonsense

Bonus drawings #41 - Free hugs!!!!

Bonus drawings #42 - Flashbacks?

[augustjustice]

Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

I've been a disaster for the last month and a half and kept forgetting to post my wiggly Wednesday thoughts, but I am FINALLY getting around to it today!

Thank so much for the tag this week @tinytalkingtina and all the lovely folks who have tagged me before!!🖤💛Consider this a tag back to share those wonderful brainworms (if you'd like to):

@ataliagold @penny00dreadful @soaringornithopter @steddie-island

Because of a comment @theohohmoment made on a gif set of Eddie Kaspbrak saying it gave huge Steve de-aged by Upside Down nonsense vibes (which, I completely see the vision), the idea of Steve having to deal with being de-aged has had me in a chokehold for a couple of days now.

My brain defaulted to Steve finding Dustin first--and though he's curious at heart and more than accustomed to the weirdness of the world at this point, it still takes some effort for Steve to convince him that it's actually him. Secret handshakes and hair care secrets have to be divulged before Dustin is gasping, "Steve?!" in disbelief while Steve rolls his eyes, one hand on his hip as he deadpans, "Yeah, dude, it's really me."

"But you're...you're..."

"A pipsqueak? Kinda already had that part figured out, Henderson, thanks for that."

Dustin hums, thoughtfully, before his face breaks into a wide grin. "Technically speaking, does this make you my little brother now?"

"Not mentally!"

Dustin rallies the troops (the party) and then takes Steve to Robin and Eddie for help--maybe they were already on the lookout for him, if he hadn't shown up to pick Robin up or meet Eddie for their customary afternoon hangout session of smoking a joint and relaxing. After the initial confusion of assuming Steve must be a friend the kids have taken into their fold, it actually doesn't take nearly as much convincing as it did with Dustin to get the two to recognize him, since, well...

Robin and Eddie--they're Steve's peers, give-or-take a grade on either side. They remember Steve at this age, but with the lens of having been kids themselves. And, sure, the high school hierarchy hadn't yet been established, but Steve was still a sporty kid, a rich kid, still popular by 13 year old standards. So they know who they're staring at, once Dustin gives the whole spiel rapid fire. Realizing that Steve is now all awkward, gangly limbs and chipmunk cheeks, thought--that's a real shock, and a delightful one at that.

"Guess I can't call you big boy, anymore," Eddie comments wryly, earning him Steve's most fearsome scowl.

Even after the initial surprise of things passes, the pair of them can't stop cooing at him, pinching his face and ruffling his hair, prompting Steve to pout and grumble and tell them to fuck off about a thousand times over.

It's not much better with the kids. They aren't teasing and fussing over Steve the same way, sure, since age-wise he's landed himself right smack dab in the middle between them and Erica. But they barely listened to him before, the little hellions, and though Steve still defaults to playing babysitter, pretty much any and all authority he had has been totally lost.

By the third or fourth time they've pulled the we're older card to overrule him, Steve's had enough.

"You don't pull this shit with Erica! And she's way younger than you!"

Dustin scoffs. "Uh, yeah, that's cuz Erica could kick all our asses."

Mike and even Lucas simply nod sagely in agreement while Erica looks triumphant in the background. Even Steve can't argue that particular point, although he does huff back, "Oh, what, so you're saying I can't?"

Dustin ruffles his hair--God, but Steve really does not appreciate being on the other side of that one--and simply says, "Steve, little buddy...even before there's no way you could have."

It takes Eddie himself to break up the (mostly playful) wrestling match that ensues immediately afterwards.

It's not all bad, though. Even though at 19 Steve lets himself be a bit of a goofball, he's still used to being the "one in charge" when the party is around, at times the literal grown up in an emergency and worrying over making sure everyone is okay. That instinct is still there, of course, but...lessened when the entire situation opens up possibilities of just being a kid, even for a little while. Eddie and Robin both are only all too happy to encourage and indulge that, knowing that the general absence of Steve's parents forced him to grow up a bit too fast, and the last several years of monster hunting haven't exactly helped with things.

It's Eddie often egging Steve on to take the final step--try to win enough tickets at the arcade to claim the largest stuffed animal hanging on the wall, betting Steve he can't swing himself over the top of the swingset at the park--with a teasing, "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to."

And the thing is, Steve does, and for the first time in a long while he feels free enough that he can.

"You know, it's probably a good thing this happened now, and not, like...senior year," Steve muses, peering at Eddie where he's settled in the other swing, their shoes dragging gently through the smooth pebbles under their feet.

Eddie frowns, trying to follow his logic. "Gonna need you to walk me through that one, Harrington."

"Well, these days, I've got you and Rob."

"What, to help you figure things out?" Eddie isn't sure how much of a boon he really is for that part--Robin, sure, braniac that she was. The odds probably would have been in Steve's favor even before, though, given what mini-geniuses Dustin and the rest of the party turned out to be, especially when it came to Upside Down shenanigans.

"So I'd have a reason to even want to figure things out," Steve murmurs quietly.

Eddie's head whips to stare at him, blinking owlishly, expression a mixture of confusion and alarm.

"Stevie, I don't--what do you--?"

He shrugs one shoulder, smile sheepish, the self-deprecating shine of his eyes jarring in a face still soft with baby fat.

"I mean..." Steve starts to count off on his fingers, "I'd just barely managed to survive my second round with all this bullshit. Nancy and I broke up. School was shit. Tommy and Carol--not like I could talk to them, or would even want to, after everything that happened. And Hargrove totally had it out for my ass. The only thing I really had going for me at the time was, you know. Looking after those little hellions."

"Sure, not being able to drive, that shit sucks, but...I'm just saying, back then, staying thirteen would have looked a lot more tempting. Plus, it'd be kinda nice to just--I don't know. Get a chance at a do-over." Pressing his face the chain of the swingset, his big, hazel eyes peeking out around it, Steve adds in an undertone, "Maybe not be such a jackass the second time around."

Eddie feels a pang in his chest. He can't resist the urge to walk his swing over so he can lay a hand on Steve's shoulder and squeeze--less forceful, more careful than he usually is. "We've all got shit we'd change, if we got another shot. Christ, I sure as hell would--you're talking to a third year senior here, after all. But, I think you're being way too fucking hard on yourself, man. You did just fine the first go-around, no retcon necessary."

Steve smiles, a soft, hesitant thing. "...Thanks, Eds."

"Anytime, Stevie."

And then, of course, from there Robin and the kids use their big brain power to break whatever curse Steve's been placed under, and Eddie helps him learn to still embrace all his silly, childish indulgences even now that he's back to being one of the 'big kids.'

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

May i request a Matthew and Nicholas Jackson x reader fic? Possibly she is related to another wrestler and they are obsessed woth her and try to win her over?

The Final Show

Main Masterlist Matthew Jackson Masterlist. (Mentions of Smut) word count 4K

Matthew and Nicholas Jackson X Fem Reader (who is Sting's daughter)

Summary: With Sting’s last match coming up the Young Bucks resort to mind games to get the upper hand against Darby Allin and Sting. After going after Sting’s sons, The Young Bucks meet Y/n for the first time who is Sting’s daughter. The Bucks become obsessed with Y/n and end up fighting on who gets to go out with her. What happens when it becomes too much when Y/n is forced to pick between the two brothers? 

An: This took me a hot minute but I hope you like it. I kept switching points of views so I hope it’s not too confusing. I wanted to make this more detailed but it would be so long and I wanted to keep this as one part. Anyway hope you enjoy it! 

Revolution was quickly approaching and for some reason, Darby Allin and Sting still wouldn’t take us seriously. Although we didn’t want to do this we knew there was simply no other option. We had to get in their heads. As Sting was celebrating in the ring with his sons after becoming AEW tag team champions Nick and I attacked the men from behind. We beat all four men to a bloody pulp. Security tried to pry us off of Sting; but it was simply no use. As Nick and I made our escape through the crowd we got into an argument with a blond woman in the front row. She had blond curly hair and gorgeous green eyes I could get lost in. As beautiful as she was, she was acting like a total bitch. She yelled at us for attaching the men who now lied in a puddle of their own blood in the ring. Although our interaction was short I couldn't stop thinking about her. I asked security to find out more about this woman and I almost threw up in my mouth when I found out she was Sting’s daughter. 

“Remember that girl we saw in the front row?” I asked Nick as he was currently pacing around our office. “What about her? Are you going to try and sleep with her or something?” Nick asked me. “Yes and no. I was asking around and apparently, that’s Sting’s daughter!” “What? You saw her she’s gorgeous. No way in hell she’s his daughter!” I thought the same thing, she was gorgeous. Absolutely stunning, she looked nothing like Sting. “Apparently her name is Y/n. She will be at Sting’s final match. I was thinking what if we use her to get in Sting’s head?” I told my brother, hoping he would get my plan. “Are you sure you’re trying to use Y/n to get in Sting’s head or to get in your pants?” Truth be told, I was trying to play mind games with our opponents but sleeping with her would be a bonus point. 

As I was exiting the arena I surprisingly ran into Y/n. “Y/n! Wait up” I called to her. As she turned to see who called her it was almost like everything turned into slow motion. She spun so elegantly, her hair flowed gracefully. I was hypnotized by her beauty. My trance was broken when she called out “What the fuck do you want Jackson?!” Oh god, she was mad. “I just wanted to properly introduce myself, I think we started off on the wrong foot” The look on her face told me what I needed to know. She didn’t want to talk to me, especially after what I did. “Well as you know my name is Matthew Jackson and I am an executive vice president of all elite wrestling. I was wondering if uh…” I looked like an idiot standing here, I was rambling random nonsense making a complete fool out of myself. All Y/n did was stare at me like the big dumb idiot I am. Just then, as if the gods from above sent me a way to escape this awful interaction Saraya approached the two of us, dragging Y/n away from me. “There you are, I was looking everywhere for you. Let’s go already, I’m starving” Saraya said as she was practically dragging Y/n away from me. Just then she turned around giving me a nasty look saying “Stay away from her Jackson, she’s mine!” 

****

That night as I returned to my hotel room I still couldn't stop thinking about Y/n. As I showered all I could think of was having her pressed up against the shower wall. My mind was filled with dirty fantasies, they were so strong. I tossed and turned in my sleep, all I wanted was her lying there next to me. Not necessarily in a dirty way but I wanted to hold her in my arms as she slept. I didn’t understand the chokehold she had on me, I had known her for all of five minutes and now I sat picturing the two of us as a happy married couple with four children. She even invaded my dreams, she wouldn't get out of my head. 

***

“Good morning sunshine, I made you breakfast in bed!” I opened my eyes to be greeted by my gorgeous beautiful wife. “Baby, you shouldn't have. I’m the one that is supposed to be making you breakfast in bed, you are the pregnant one” I told her “Well, I just wanted to remind you of how much I love you Matthew!” “I love you too Y/n!” The two of us exchanged a sweet kiss before I felt a kick. “Did you feel that! He kicked” I told Y/n excitedly" “I know, little Darby sure is a kicker” “Darby?” “Yeah, we agreed to call him Darby. Don’t you remember? You said we could call him Darby to remember him after the accident?” “The accident?” “Yeah, when you and Nicholas attacked him and my father in the ring. You KILLED them? Remember? You Destroyed my family, my life. I know you apologized and I forgave you but the least you can do is name our son after him?” 

I shot out of my bed in a cold sweat. I was struggling to breathe, what the fuck kind of messed up dream was that? Like what the fuck? 

***

I was in the middle of a peaceful slumber when I was rudely awoken by my cell phone. I checked the time and then my phone. Why was my brother calling me this late? I was almost three in the morning for god's sake, this better be important. 

“Matt you need to calm down, it was just a dream” I was trying to comfort my brother after he told me the weird nightmare he just had. How would he react if I told him that I was also dreaming of Y/n. My dream however was not fucked up, it was peacefull, calming, perfect. 

Y/n stood in the middle of a beautiful flowerfield wearing a beautiful white gown. She danced around the field without a care in the world. The two of us were alone; it was the two of us against the world. 

Once I was able to calm Matt down enough I tried to go back to sleep but was unsuccessful. After twisting and turning I decided I would look online to try and find out more information about Y/n. I was able to find out that she was 30 years old, lived in California and worked as an artist. Her art gallery was surprisingly a half hour from my house so I assumed she lived close to me. The work she did was magnificent, not only did she paint the most beautiful pieces I’d ever seen but she also used other mediums such as sculpting, sketching, and she even had a very impressive digital art collection. Knowing that I would be sure to bring it up the next time I saw her. Maybe I could ask her to make me something? I was pretty confident my interaction with her would go better than the one with my brother. 

I knew this would be a bad idea. Today I would ‘stumble’ into Y/n’s art gallery and shoot my shot. I walked into Y/n’s gallery and it was even more beautiful than the pictures online. The inside smelt like vanilla and white sage, the walls were scattered with different forms of art media and sculptures. As I admired the work on the walls I heard a familiar voice ask “Hi there, do you need help with anything or are you just browsing?” As I turned to face her I saw the shocked expression on Y/n’s face. “Oh Hi Nick!” I could feel myself blush. “Hi Y/n, I didn’t know you worked here?” I tried to play dumb but I was scared she could see right through me. “Yeah, actually this is my gallery” She said with a smile on her face. “Really? I had no idea you were an artist” “Yeah, well..there a lot you don’t know about me” I could tell by the look in her eyes that the smile on her face was genuine. I felt as if I was dreaming, I might be delusional but was she flirting with me? “Oh really?” I asked “I’m surprised Sting never mentioned he had a daughter that was an artist. I didn’t even know he had a daughter. Your work is beautiful.” “Thank you! He probably didn’t mention it because he still thinks this is a phase and not a real job. He still sees me as the ‘starving artist’ who can’t afford rent when I’m making more than he is.” I listened carefully to every word Y/n said, I studied her features as she spoke. The more I thought about it the more I got why Sting never mentioned Y/n before. She was absolutely gorgeous, those freaks backstage would throw themselves at her. Just then I almost choked when Y/n said “I’m actually thinking of closing up early today. Do you want to grab a few drinks later?” I didn’t drink, but how was Y/n supposed to know that. “I’d love to but I don’t drink, '' I told her. “Oh- well I make a good mocktail?” Make a good mocktail? Was she going to make me a drink? Was I going to her house? “Sure! I’d love that” “Perfect, put in your number and I’ll send you my address” I nervously put my number in Y/n’s phone, reading the numbers over and over again to make sure I put in the right thing. Once Y/n sent me her address I noticed that she only lived a few houses down from me. “That’s crazy, I live a few houses down from you!” “Really?” “Yeah really!” “Small world. I’ll see you in a hour? I just have to close everything up” “I’ll see you then!” 

***

I felt like a nervous teenager that was going on his first date with his crush as I approached Y/n’s house. It still blew my mind that she lived only a few doors down this whole time. How did we never run into each other before? I decided I would walk to the large corner house I had grown to love. It was massive, the whole property gated off with a security guard at the driveway. 

(An: Here are some pics of the inside of the house!)

I always imagined what this house would look like on the inside and now here I was with the most gorgeous girl I had ever seen. As I walked into the house I felt like I had been transported back 50 years. The exterior of Y/n’s house was all modern but the inside looked like a 70s LA time capsule. My eyes were drawn to the massive conversation pit I could spot from the entrance. Everything was carpet, the decor was vintage but had many modern pieces that tied in beautifully. “Your house is gorgeous' ' I told Y/n “Thank you, I loved LA in the 70s. I wasn’t born but I have always been fascinated with the artichture from that era. When I saw this house on the market I knew I needed it but the outside was practically falling apart so I basically built another house around it to prevent these old walls from collapsing.” 

Y/n and I spent the whole evening talking and listening to old records. I was able to find out so much about her. How she moved out at 18 to Los Angeles with no support from her father. How she was no contact with her family for years as she tried to make it on her own in the big city. It looked like Y/n did quite well for herself. We talked for hours and I felt myself falling harder in love with her with every sentence she said. “Can I ask you something?” I asked Y/n as she put on a new record “Sure” “Do you hate me?” “Why would I hate you? I invited you over to my house?” “But I attacked your father and Darby?” “I’m over it. I was mad at first but I remembered he was kinda a jerk to me my whole life so. I was more mad you attacked my brothers. They were the only ones who actually cared about me. Tell your brother I’m sorry for yelling at him”  “So you don’t hate us?” “Nope” Well, that’s a sigh of relief. 

When I finally left Y/n’s I couldn't help the warm fuzzy feeling that washed over. God Matt was going to be so jealous. 

**

“What do you mean you went over to her house for drinks? You don’t even drink!!” I yelled at Nick. “She offered so I wasn’t going to be rude. And by the way, she makes a delicious mocktail.” I couldn't believe my own brother went behind my back when he knew I was the one who had a crush on Y/n. He said he didn’t even like her in that way. “I can’t believe you” “What? Is someone jealous?” “You know I am” “Well if it makes you feel better she said she isn’t mad at you and she wanted me to tell you she’s sorry for yelling at you the other day” Atleast Y/n wasn’t mad at me but I was still mad that she was all over my brother when she should be all over me. “I don’t care, I’m still mad at you” “It’s not my fault I stumbled into her gallery. It’s also not my fault she lives four houses down from me.” “WHAT?” “Yeah she lives on the corner. You know the house that always has security outside? That one” Okay, this wasn’t fair, he had the upper hand here. I didn’t fully believe him though. No way he ‘stumbled’ into her gallery. “You said you didn’t even like Y/n in that way!” “Maybe I changed my mind?” 

There was no way the both of us could have her. It could only be one of us. Nick and I decided we would have a little friendly competition to see who could win Y/n over. She would have to be the one to pick. 

***

“Okay, they are officially obsessed with you” Saraya told me as she pointed out yet another gift Matt had left me. “It’s a problem. They want me to pick between the two of them” I told Saraya. Saraya had been my best friend for years, we met when I designed a jacket for her when she first started out as a wrestler. I thought it was cute that Matt and Nick both had crushes on me but it got creepy fast when they wouldn't leave me alone. If I had to choose, I would choose Nick but if I did that I’m pretty sure Matt would jump off a bridge. “I don’t even know what to do Raya. They are actually driving me insane.” “Do you want me to say something?” “No, no I’ll talk to Nick. I actually like him but I don’t know if I want to go out with him with all of this going on.” “Well, Revolution is approaching soon. Maybe this whole thing will die down after that?” “Hopefully” 

****

I felt in my gut that what Matt and I were doing was causing more harm than good. We both wanted Y/n but what if after this she wanted none of us. I sat in my hotel room contemplating calling Y/n to try and apologize for everything but just as I was about to I heard a knock at my door. I went to open it and was shocked to see Y/n on the other end. “Can I come in?” she asked “Of course” I told her as I ushered her in the room. I could tell just by looking at her that something was wrong. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for everything that’s been going on recently. It’s gone too far and it needs to stop. We put you in a difficult position making you choose between us and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that Matt won’t stop bombarding you with gifts and calls. I’m sorry for putting you through all of this when you should be savouring these last moments with Sting in AEW.” I truly felt bad about everything. I thought about giving up and letting Matt have her but anyone with eyes could tell that Y/n wasn’t interested in Matt. 

“That’s actually what I came here to talk about. Look, Nick I do like you, I really do. Like a lot. The thing is Matt would go insane if he found out-” “He doesn’t need to know, it can be our little secret” “Nick, he would find out eventually. I don’t think it’s worth it. You two should stop obsessing over me and be focusing on your big match tomorrow. Whether you win or lose please do me a favor and make that match amazing. Even though I don’t have the best relationship with my father he deserves a big sendoff.” Y/n was right, this whole thing started with Sting and it was going to end with Sting. 

I noticed the tears start to form in Y/n’s eyes and I was quick to hold her close. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/n.” “It’s not your fault” “Yes it is. I just really like you Y/n. I have never met anyone that makes me feel the things I feel when I’m around you. When I saw you for the first time I knew I needed to know more about you, I needed you in my life in any form. After that night at the gallery I couldn't stop thinking about you. I don’t care about what Matt will do, I don’t care how Darby and Sting will probably murder me once they find out. All I care about is spending time with you. This doesn’t have to be a romantic thing but I need you in my life Y/n. As crazy as it sounds I think I’m in love with you” Shit, did I just admit that I loved her. Great job Nick, you scared her off. 

“I think I love you too,” Y/n admitted. It was so quiet I almost missed it. “Really?” “Really”     

I was at a loss of words, I didn’t know what to say so I kissed her. It was a delicate kiss but it would end up leading to much more. I didn’t intend to make love to her that night but fate had other plans. I had never experienced something like this in my entire life. Sure I had sex before, I fucked many women but I never quite made love before. This was passionate, delicate, it was filled with so many different raw emotions I couldn't even explain it. We cried, we laughed, we did everything in between and I knew that I would do anything for that woman. I would fight for us, I would do anything and everything if it meant I could have the honor to make such beautiful love to her. It was like our bodies were made for eachother, I had found my other half. 

I felt safe, I felt at peace, this was my new home and I was grateful to be allowed inside. 

When I woke up the next morning I felt like I was still dreaming, that the universe was playing a cruel joke on me. But this wasn’t a dream, it was my new reality. The woman of my dreams lay next to me looking even more beautiful than she did the day I first met her. The sunlight shined on her sleeping body making her look like a goddess. Even though my body and mind was still filled with lust in the back of my mind I couldn't stop thinking about the things I would do to Sting tonight. I would end that man’s career. I would leave him lying in a puddle of his own blood, his lifeless body in the middle of the ring. Y/n would watch the whole thing, I would make sure of it. I wanted to break her heart, her soul just so at the end of the night I could make love to her and put it all back together. Sure Matt was the one that really loved her but I loved her in my own way. I loved the way she looked underneath me with tears in her eyes. I loved how she made me feel. The plan was always to use Y/n to get in Sting’s head right? That was our goal, fuck her and get in her head. Teach her that Sting is the bad guy, make her ours. 

It’s not my fault that Matt fell completely in love with her. I couldn't blame her, she truly was the most gorgeous woman I had ever met in my life. I just got to her first. I would have her brainwashed to serve me as her master. As much as I loved Y/n at the end of the day business is business. I hope she will forgive me for all of this. A part of me did truly feel bad but this was all Sting's fault. If he just took Matt and me seriously to begin with this would have never happened in the first place. I placed a delicate kiss on Y/n’s shoulder blade as I whispered in her ear “I’m sorry baby, I love you so much but I am going to kill Sting”

[shunukitrash]

I hope wrestlers strike for unions and proper Healthcare this year.

[cakemousse]

a malevolent affair

Chat Noir had fallen. But so did Ladybug and Monarch. 

Rating: M, Words: 3000, Chapters: 1/1

note the rating, please check the tags before proceeding

anywho, @rosekasa drew this dinner date between akumabug and chat noir a while ago and i had ideas 🤩

thank you @h-sunnywet-d @fortuna-et-cataclysmos @literaphobe and @ladyofthenoodle for betaing!!

Read on AO3

written for day 12 of @ladynoirjuly

━━━━━━

Everything’s quiet. 

Too quiet. 

The faint ringing in his ears gets louder and louder until it’s too disruptive to remain at peace any longer. 

Chat Noir blinks, trying to clear his vision of the fog that has been rendering him motionless. 

He sees the silhouette of his hands, but they refuse to move as he pleases. Feeling the string digs into the cuffs of his suit as he wiggles, he’s made aware that he’s sitting by a circular dining table with empty plates before him, and that the metal string coiled around his wrists is attached to a yo-yo. 

A black one, decorated with red polka dots.

What…? 

Chat Noir lifts his head to see the person responsible for his current state, and he realises that the room’s too dull, far too monotonous. It’s as if the shadows have consumed her vibrant and colourful essence. She, the shining symbol of hope for all, is stained in all the wrong colours. 

Seated right across him, with elbows on the table as her head rests on her palms, she grins. The glinting of her eyes and the eagerness on her face are a stark contrast to everything in the room. 

Especially when she’s smiling at him like that. 

That playful smile. One that he always witnesses as they banter and tease each other. One that, as soon as she flashes it at him, he knows that it’s her. He recognises it, but there’s a degree of eeriness to it that leaves him uneasy. 

“Lady… bug?” 

“Hey Kitty.” She waves at him, but the way she wiggles her fingers at him suggests something playful. Flirty, even. 

“Ladybug, what’s going on?”   

“Aww, not even gonna call me your Lady? Booo.” She pouts and brings her hand back to where it was a few seconds ago. But she’s still looking at him with those brightly coloured heaven eyes. 

Chat Noir struggles, “You’re not my Lady!” 

“Nonsense, Chaton.” 

He gasps. That tone of voice. He’s drawn to that inflexion anywhere. 

Akumabug raises her arms as if to present herself to an audience, but there’s only him. “I’m right here.” 

Chat Noir wrestles against the metal string around his wrists, knowing that he’s too late, but he needs to do something! Anything!

“I would advise against that, Chaton. Don’t want those strings to cut any deeper, do you?” she coos. 

“Then release me!” 

This is wrong. So wrong. Everything has gone horribly wrong. 

Why can’t he remember anything? 

Akumabug stands to reach out for his hands, but Chat Noir snatches them away as soon as he feels the heat of her touch. He tries to stand as well but finds himself tied to the chair by more ropes. 

He whips his head towards her, attempting to counter whatever she’s planning, but all he sees is her stunned in place—face painted with utter disbelief as she stares at the palm of the hand she had touched him with.  

Chat Noir feels a drop in his stomach. His spine tingles and he sits up straight on his chair. 

He messed up. 

Akumabug looks up at him, face unreadable. She suddenly appears right beside him at breakneck speed, and he winces when she grabs his face, nails digging hard into his head. She drags him as she stands to her full height, straining his neck and pulling him towards her, as far as his body allows her to. Chat Noir breathes in quick successions at how fast it all happens; how close he is to her face. 

Her eyes dart between his own as if searching for something he doesn’t know he holds. 

Then, she releases him. He falls backwards onto his chair, rocking with it. He feels his chest heaving and his blood pumping in his ears, but he’s keeping his eyes on her. That's the least he can do. Akumabug walks backwards, away from him, her expressionless features morphing into delighted ones as she nears the table again, “What you need is food!” 

She snaps her fingers and a ball of spaghetti falls onto the plate right before him, sauce splattering everywhere on the grey cloth. 

“Bon appétit !” She bends over and puts her elbows on the table again, head propped up on the back of her hands. Akumabug watches him and smiles, like a lover who can’t take her eyes off of him. 

“Uh…” 

“Oh, silly me,” she laughs and goes behind him to push the chair closer to the table. Chat Noir struggles again but quickly stops as a sharp, cooling sensation presses against his neck. 

Her face suddenly appears right next to his and he feels the pressure against his neck increasing. “What part of ‘stop doing that’ do you not understand, Chat Noir?”  

Flinching at the sting on his neck, he blinks and eyes her hard stare. Something must be very wrong with him because he still finds her beautiful even when she’s holding a sharp blade to his neck. Chat Noir chooses to stay silent. 

She searches his eyes further before removing the metal—a dagger with traces of his blood—from his neck and settling it down on the table. Akumabug moves to his plate and starts mixing up the spaghetti with utensils that appeared out of thin air. Once she rolls a mouthful of spaghetti onto the spoon, she holds it out to him, “Here.” 

Chat Noir leans as far back as he possibly can, to not open the wound she has just given him any further, while still being cautious enough to not trigger another terrifying event like the ones before. 

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re worried about?” She asks with a smile and brings the food closer to him.

Chat Noir looks away from her. 

Akumabug sighs. “Don’t you trust me, Chaton? It’s delicious too! I know my way around the kitchen.”

“Hard to believe when all I see is you creating food out of thin air.” His eyes widen at his own remark. 

Why did he say that?! This isn’t his Lady! 

She huffs. “How mean. I made this just for you and you won’t even try it.” She directs the spoon to her own mouth and chomps on the utensil. Chat Noir flinches at the sound of the impact. 

“Mhmm!” She hums while chewing on the mouthful, eyes closed and swaying her body side to side, “My creations don’t disappoint!” 

Akumabug licks her lips clean and swallows; Chat Noir gulps at the sight. 

“Come on,” she holds out another spoonful again, “I know you want some. You’re starving.” 

As if on cue, his stomach starts growling. Chat Noir sets his jaw and closes his eyes. 

And it’s quiet again.

He knows that she’ll probably threaten him more, and he’ll deal with what she throws at him when the time comes. But for now, he‘ll cut off any contact he has with her and focus on centring his Cataclysm at the tip of his claws. Any wrong move could spell disaster on his part.  

The sound of her yo-yo opening reverberates around him, and then it’s deafening stillness again. It’s his signal to act. 

He whispers, “Cata—”

“Please eat.” 

He still doesn’t want to open his mouth, but he does anyway. Chat Noir opens his eyes and parts his trembling lips. 

Akumabug pushes the spoon into his mouth gently, surprising him. He regards her as his lips slowly wrap around the spoon, and she pulls it out. A burst of flavours colours his mouth when he chews, but everything outside is bland and stale. Except for the tears trickling down one of her cheeks. Huh?

He swallows, “Ladybug?” 

“Still won’t call me your Lady, huh?” She sniffs as she rolls another ball of spaghetti onto the spoon and brings it to his mouth. 

He pushes the spoon away with his cheek and peers at her, “Buguinette, what’s wrong?”  

Eyes wide, she stares at him with a slightly open mouth. 

“Buguinette?” 

“You haven’t called me that in a while…” 

“I—”

She grabs his cheeks to open his mouth, pushes the spoon into his mouth again, and releases her hand as soon as he bites. 

He quickly gulps and tries to get her attention again, but she shoves another spoonful into his mouth as soon as he opens his mouth. 

A smile returns to her face; her body posture exudes contentment. The way she smiles is so familiar, he almost forgets that she’s currently not his Lady. God, this isn’t his Lady!! Chat Noir racks his mind for what he can do. How he can get rid of the Akuma. But he has no idea where to even find the Akuma. 

“What a kitten,” she suddenly giggles, “you’ve made a mess of yourself. Let me clean that for you.” 

Chat Noir expects her to create a serviette out of thin air, but instead, she leans into his space, and he jerks backwards as soon as he feels something wet touch the skin next to his lips. 

He stares at her, feeling his eyeballs about to pop out of their sockets and his face hot. He can’t believe she just did that. 

She raises a brow, moving towards him again. 

“Wait!” 

She grins at his reaction. “What a rare sight. Is mon Chaton shy? It’s just a lick, we do this all the time.” 

“What?!”

She grabs the back of his neck to stop him from moving. 

“Please, don’t,” he begs as she moves in. 

The glee is still on her face. “Oh well, since you asked so nicely,” she pulls back and summons a serviette from her hand. “I can at the very least wipe it off of you, hmm, Chaton?” 

Chat Noir inhales and slowly nods. Akumabug beams as she once again gets into his space, this time climbing effortlessly onto his lap. Her index finger reaches for the bottom of his chin and tilts his head upwards as though evaluating him. The other hand dabs on the excess tomato sauce on his skin, and the tightness in his chest makes its presence known again. 

“There, all clean!” She boops his nose. “It would’ve been so much more fun if I could lick those off though.” 

Chat Noir whimpers. 

“I’m just teasing!” she pats his head. “Wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable now, would we?” She smiles. 

Her smile is really starting to get unsettling. “Er… right…” 

She removes her hand and goes back to sit right across him, in the same manner as he first saw her. 

“Why are you grinning like that?” He decides that her smile is sinister now. 

“Hmm? Because you’re amusing.” 

Chat Noir raises an eyebrow. “I’m not doing anything but staring at you?” 

“Oh? You sure that’s all you’re doing, Minou? Aren’t you trying to think of something to get me to give up my Akuma?” She says as she stalks over again to sit near him on the table, eyes never leaving him. 

His eyes widen a little and she cackles. “Oh, what a cute little kitten.”

Akumabug once again reaches out to him and pats his head. “Don’t worry your pretty head over this, Chaton.” 

He tries to say something, but she cuts him.

“I’m still Ladybug.” 

“Monarch akumatised you! You even admitted that you have an Akuma!” 

She tilts her head and considers him. 

“You must’ve hurt your head pretty badly.” 

“Huh??” That’s what she got from that?

She moves closer and ruffles his hair softly, until a sharp pain erupts from the back of his head. She must’ve caught him scrunching his nose because she immediately jerks her hand away. “Shit, it wasn’t enough.” Akumabug looks at the plate of cold spaghetti and starts mixing again. “You need food to gain more energy, Chat Noir.”

“Ladybug,” he rasps softly and she looks at him. “What’s going on, really?” 

“You really don’t remember?” 

He shakes his head lightly, but quickly stops as the pounding gets harder. “Argh…” 

Chat Noir hears Akumabug snap her fingers again, he peeks and catches a glimpse of a first aid box on the table. 

“It’s going to hurt for a while, Chat Noir,” she informs as she comes closer again. “Bear with me.” 

“What are you…” 

“I’m going to use some alcohol swabs to disinfect the area, then I’ll use my superpower to enhance the healing process.” 

“You can… do that?”

“Creations of new cells. It won’t heal perfectly now, but the road to recovery will definitely be a lot quicker.” 

Chat Noir looks at her, “Talk to me about what happened to distract me from the pain?” 

The seriousness on her face dissipates, quickly replaced with a smile. God, she looks so beautiful. Even as Akumabug, her determination never wavers. That’s what made him fall in love in the first place. 

She leans in and plants a kiss on his cheek, and cackles as his expression morphs into disbelief once again. 

“Right, so you must know I was fighting Monarch, to end up in this state right? And because we’re a team, you’re always there with me.” 

He hisses when she applies pressure on the spot. “Yeah?” 

“Well, basically you got flung across the room and hit your head real hard.” She stops her movement. “Must’ve cracked some bones, I’ve never heard anything like it.” 

She hovers her hands lightly over his wound and begins her magic. “So he went into this whole monologue, something something final battle with me, something something ‘I’m doing this for my family’. Whatever he said affected me so much that he thought he could make use of my emotions against me. Well, wrong move! I took him out and here we are.”

“But—” 

“That’s really all you need to know, Chat Noir. Now just relax, I’m going to hasten the healing process.” The pain—on both his head and neck—increases for a while before dulling.

Once Akumabug removes her hands from him, she turns around and takes the plate of spaghetti again. 

“Please Ladybug, I don’t think I can eat anymore.”

She looks between him and the plate and puts it down. 

“Alright. Since you don’t want to eat, how about some dessert? Everyone has space for dessert! And you still need to heal.” She begins walking away to god knows where. 

There’s really no way to reach out to Akumabug, huh? She doesn’t seem to understand what he meant when he said he can’t eat anymore. His appetite doesn’t exist anymore as long as she’s like that. 

And this is really the time to use his Cataclysm if he ever wants a chance to escape. However, it’s a risk now that he can’t concentrate well. Not with the slight pounding in his head. 

Besides, there’s something that’s been nagging at him ever since he regained consciousness.  

And suddenly, he remembers. 

He hears Akumabug’s footsteps getting closer and closer. She walks past him, a huge plate with a cloche in her hands. She drops the plate on the table and it lands so roughly that he’s surprised everything still looks as presentable as she had first held them. 

Her fingers reach for the knob. “Do you want to know what his last moments were like?” 

That. 

A chill runs down his spine. The intensity of her gaze reveals that she’ll accept no other answer but yes. 

Chat Noir gulps. 

“Wha… What did you do?” 

“Ah, I still relish in his screams and his blood on my face as each slash tore through his skin.” Her eyes brighten as she recounts. “Dangling the illusion of being able to get away from me right in front of him, as I slowly walked after him and he got further and further away. The desperation of his panting increasing as he kept going, but found no escape anywhere. My presence constantly overshadowed him, waiting to pounce. The sweet despair in his eyes when he finally realised that he had nowhere to run. The final sensation of the metal gliding across flesh, and the satisfaction of witnessing it rolling, until it comes to a stop at my feet.” 

The pounding headache has come back in full force, and he tries to breathe deeply to calm his heart that’s slamming against his rib cage. But he can’t. He can’t do anything. His body has chosen ‘freeze’ as the optimal response to what’s happening around him.

Akumabug bites her lower lip, as though she’s really eager to show him something within the cloche as she slowly lifts it away from the plate. 

“I hope you enjoy your dessert.” 

His breathing quickens. She raises the cloche open but Chat Noir slams his eyes shut and screams, “No!” 

When all he can hear is his loud panting, he slowly peeks open his eyes to glance at the plate. 

A cake like any other. 

“Sheesh, I’m not that crazy.” She proceeds to throw the cloche high in the air, and it hits something as she walks back to her seat.

Chat Noir looks up—to see Monarch hanging from the ceiling. 

He whips his head back down to his lap. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening! Shit shit shit! What happened to push one of the kindest and most loving souls he knew to this length? 

What was it!! 

“…Adrien?” 

Chat Noir tenses. He directs his attention to her, a pleasant smile now present on her face, but she isn’t looking at him. Rather, she’s looking at her palm. 

“I asked,” she repeats nonchalantly, “how’s Adrien?” 

He remains dumbstruck. What is even happening anymore? 

“Is he fine? Is he coping well? How’s he feeling?” She looks up from her palms and at him.  

“Wha— Why would I know how he's doing?” 

“Because,” Akumabug approaches him and gently takes his left hand. Chat Noir allows her to stretch his palms open—holding them out as though she had just proposed and he had said yes—and pushes two rings he knows very well onto his ring finger. 

“He’s you.” 

please consider leaving kudos and comments on ao3 ^^

[banannabethchase]

Somebody placed mistletoe all over the arena. It is a tradition, after all.

~

Thank you to @sarahcakes613 for the prompt! This is fun and fluffy and my favorite parts of fanfiction. I wish you a relaxing and soft Sunday, and I hope you enjoy and have restful and meaningful holidays if you celebrate :)

Mini playlist (we're going with some of my favorite weird as hell holiday songs): Mixtape for Christmas - Hey Monday Christmas Past, Present, and Future - Ashlee Simpson All I Want for Christmas Is You - Bowling for Soup Merry Merry Merry Frickin' Christmas - Frickin' A

~

They sneak in at five in the morning, bribing a security guard to let them in. They have devious, hilarious plans in store for the AEW roster. Something that will provide them with blackmail and, maybe, just enough holiday spirit to pick up the energy of the place.

~

Wheeler is somewhere in the hallway of a San Antonio arena, too distracted by the pain in his neck to think straight.

He blinks as best he can, glancing around, trying to focus his gaze. He just has to get to the trainer’s room. He thinks that, maybe, he should have listened to Mox and waited for him.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Wheeler turns around to see Daniel Garcia, standing in the hallway. He’s pretty sure he’s standing still, but he can’t be positive about it. Either way, one of them is swaying back and forth.

“Hi, Danny,” Wheeler says, trying to seem normal. “I’m trying to-to find the trainer’s room. Know where it is?”

Danny looks behind himself, then back at Wheeler, rolling his eyes. “Come with me.”

“That promo you did with Sammy,” Wheeler says, because he can’t remember how to shut his mouth, “he called you a tightass,” Wheeler laughs. He trips over his boot. He only manages not to collapse on the floor because Danny grabs his arm and hauls him back up normal.

“Shut up,” Danny says, shoving him halfway across the hallway. Wheeler stumbles and bumps into the wall, but it’s enough of a jolt to get his head on a little straighter.

“You can’t push an injured guy,” Wheeler says, shooting him a grin.

Danny rolls his eyes, “You’re fine.” He pauses, eyeing Wheeler. “Right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Wheeler replies. “Rush got me good.” He winces as he rolls his neck, feeling Danny’s eyes on him the whole time. “He hits hard.”

Danny laughs. “Please.”

“Not as hard as you do,” Wheeler offers. “But hard.”

Danny straightens up, and Wheeler can tell he’s preening, just a little bit. “I mean, my specialty is submissions and his is just, like, wailing on somebody until they crumple. Like you did.” He grins at Wheeler, a little mean.

“Oh, bite me,” Wheeler says.

“Gladly, you little shit,” Danny says. “The trainer’s here.” He pauses in the doorway. And Wheeler notices something.

“Um, am I concussed, or is that mistletoe up there?” He nods upward, the action making his entire body ache.

Danny burns bright pink. Wheeler thinks its cuter than he probably should. “Oh.” He laughs, a little low, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Wheeler makes a decision, and slides in next to Danny in the doorway. “I mean, it’s there, right?”

Danny licks his lips. “I – I guess so.”

“Plus, you told me to bite me in that match, and I haven’t followed up on that, and then I just told you to, so…”

Danny grins. “Oh, that’s how it is?”

Wheeler would respond, but instead, he’s leaning in, lips pressed to Danny’s, and the aching is replaced with something fresher, newer, brighter.

“Quit making out and get checked out!” shouts somebody in the trainer’s room.

“You’re the one who put up the mistletoe!” Danny snaps back. He shoves Wheeler in through the doorway. “This dumbass got lost in the hallway. He probably needs ice.” He leaves his hand on Wheeler’s lower back, though, for just a few moments longer than he has to.

“Talk to you later?” Wheeler asks, and he won’t let himself cringe at the hopefulness in his voice.

Danny nods, though. “Yeah. I’ll text you.”

~

“Hangman, the handsome cowboy,” Adam sings along with the video. He grins at the way the Dark Order used to be, the joy, the comradery. The absolute confusion in his eyes at the idea that these people loved him.

He misses it.

He sings along with the bastardized lyrics, leaning up against the wall of the arena, letting the nostalgia settle over him like a blanket.

“Hey,” comes a quiet voice from behind his screen.

Adam looks up to see Matt Jackson in front of him, with a smile on his face. He hasn’t seen that smile directed toward him in, god, years. “Matt.” His voice is too gentle, too soft, too fond. “Hi.”

“It’s the, uh, season of giving,” Matt says, fidgeting with the end of his hair. “And love or whatever. And I wanted to say, um, I wanted to say I’ve got your back.”

Adam blinks at him. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Matt says. “I mean, Mox is being a big ol’ bitch out there.” He grins, like he’s proud of himself for swearing. “I, uh. When you have the match, I wanted to tell you, I’ll be your second.”

Adam pushes off the wall, walking toward him. He always forgets, until these moments, how much bigger, taller he is than Matt. How much of Matt’s height is ego and attitude. How much smaller he becomes when he lets it go and allows himself to just be Matt. “Really?”

Matt nods, looking up at him, those big brown eyes honest. “Yes.”

Adam feels some of the ice in his heart crumble at that, some of the loneliness melt out of him. “Want to grab lunch?” he thumbs to the door. “Unless, I mean, unless you’ve eaten.”

“No, yeah, sure,” Matt says. “Catering’s got a really good salad bar today.” He lights up. “They have pickled beets!”

“Ew,” Adam says automatically, but he’s lucky. Matt’s face doesn’t fall, his demeanor doesn’t shift back to cold distance. “I hate beets.”

“That’s because you’re boring,” Matt says. He shuffles the two of them into catering, where he pauses. “After you.”

Adam tilts his head back to shake the hair out of his face, when he notices something hanging from the sprinkler. His first thought is it must be a major fire hazard. The next is that it’s mistletoe. He makes a strange, strangled little noise.

“What – oh.” Matt’s followed Adam’s gaze up. “That’s mistletoe.”

“Yep.” Adam looks down at Matt, expecting him to be spooked.

“Well,” Matt says, steadying himself. “Kiss me.”

“What?!”

“It’s a tradition!” Matt exclaims. “Oh, come on, you can’t not know about mistletoe, Hangman.”

“I know what mistletoe is, obviously,” Adam replies, flustered. “I just – I’m surprised you want me to kiss you, is all.”

“You don’t have to,” Matt says, brown eyes looking so miserable that, even if he didn’t want to, Adam would probably kiss him just to make it stop.

But he does want to. He glances around, checking to make sure nobody is watching, then rests his hand on the side of Matt’s neck. Matt looks up at him through his eyelashes. It doesn’t feel fair.

“You gonna kiss me?” Matt asks, voice breathy and soft.

His answer is a gentle press of the lips, something they’ve done once or twice before, and it feels like friendship renewed.

~

“Moxie!” Eddie yells down the hallway. “You got your ass beat by the cowboy again!”

“Get in here,” Mox snaps, grabbing Eddie’s arm and dragging him into his locker room. Eddie’s still grinning, though, and Mox is halfway to throwing him back out in the hallway if he could trust Eddie could shut up for a second.

“Aw, Mox, gonna be like old times?” Eddie crowds into Mox’s space. Mox lets him, getting pressed up against the wall, fingers threaded with Eddie’s.

“Not if you’re gonna be a dick,” Mox says back, and Eddie laughs against his neck, pressing kisses. “Come on, you don’t get to give me a hickey after making fun of me. Quit it.”

Eddie pulls away, eyes sparkling. “What, you don’t think it’s funny?”

“I don’t,” Mox says, but he doesn’t shove Eddie off. “Hangman’s got a chip on his shoulder. That’s not my fault.”

“You knocked him out.”

“Again, glass jaw, not my fault!” Mox throws his hands in the air. “Look, man, why the hell is everybody all mad at me for? Ooh, sweet baby Cowboy got hurt. Mox is a bad, evil man for being good at his job and winning his match.” He slumps back against the wall. “Everybody is a big fuckin’ whiner.”

Eddie studies him. “You had a smoke recently?”

Mox thinks about it. “Uh. No.”

“That’s why you’re being bitchy,” Eddie says, more to himself than to Mox. “Come on. We’re going outside.” He grabs Mox’s arm, and he goes along without much of a fight. Because Eddie’s right – it’s been a while since his last cigarette.

Unfortunately, this day is destined to piss him off.

“Hangman,” Mox says, steeling himself for a fight.

Adam Page rolls his fucking eyes at him. “God damn it, Moxley, can’t I go take a piss without you in my face?”

“You’re the one who can’t keep his hands off me,” Mox says. He puts his hands behind his back, grinning. “Take a swing, baby. I’ll even let you try to knock me out, yeah?”

“While this is fun,” Eddie says, “I think you two should look up.”

He looks at Page, then looks up, and looks back at Page, who looks, surprisingly, fatigued. “Oh, god,” Page says, “not another one.”

“Another one?” Mox says. “Aw, Cowboy, you been puttin’ your lips on somebody else? I thought you were all about me right now.”

Page stares at him, blue-green eyes unblinking for a moment. Then he strides toward him, grabs Mox’s face in his hands, and gives Mox the kind of kiss that makes him go a bit weak in the knees. Mox finds his footing, though, and gives back just as hard, clacking teeth with it. Page pushes him away as fast as he came at him. “I’ll kick your ass later,” Page says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which definitely should not have given Mox a boner. “I gotta get back to my hotel before somebody else does some more stupid shit to make me stay here.” He nods to Eddie, like this isn’t weird at all, and walks past the two of them without another look back.

“I like him,” Eddie decides. “I know he’s your arch enemy right now or whatever, but I like him. The man’s got balls.”

“I…” Mox finds his fingers touching his lips, his brain a little dizzy. “Did that just happen?”

Eddie studies his face, then his eyes drop down to Mox’s crotch. “Oh. Of course. Your horny bastard. Alright, go back to the locker room. Fuck first, then cigarette.”

Mox shrugs. He can work with that order of events.

“First, though,” Eddie grabs Mox by the neck and hauls him in for a kiss, less angry than Page’s, but more possessive, more demanding. Mox loves this kind of kiss from Eddie. “Alright. Better.”

“Better?” Mox asks. “What the fuck was wrong with me?”

“Uh, I can’t put my dick in your mouth with you having Hangman spit all up in there.” He pats Mox’s cheek. “Now you’re better. Let’s go.”

~

Kenny Omega is fucking tired.

“You gotta do this bit, Omega-man,” Matt says, practically vibrating. “If you don’t start now, we’re missing a whole storyline detail, and then new people won’t know who the eff Ibushi is when he shows up at Revolution, and then we’ve lost the audience.” He perches on the side of the table, hops off, does a little jump on his toes, and goes right back on the table. “Come on. Please?”

Kenny exhales and turns to Matt. “Okay. Fine. But you and Cutler are out of here once we’re done.”

Matt nods. “Totally. Definitely.”

“You had another one of those Death coffees again, didn’t you?”

Matt shrugs. “Gets the job done. Don’t judge me.”

They run the bit, something practically invisible unless you know who Ibushi is, know that he’s Kenny’s favorite person and the biggest heartbreak he’s ever had. He wishes he knew how to tell Matt that this, the ex, is off limits. But he can’t.

“We good?” Kenny asks, curling up on the couch. “I need a nap.”

“We have EVP duties,” Matt says, frowning.

He might scream, later, when he’s back in his hotel room. “Can’t you and Nick take care of it?”

“It’s a three man job, and Tony’s on the phone yapping at somebody to stay for interviews,” Matt says. “So it’s the Elite taking over.”

Kenny follows him and, too late, realizes he forgot his phone in his locker room.

“I swear, I’ll be there,” Kenny promises Matt. “Seriously. Just give me five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Matt repeats.

Kenny nods, because he knows what this is. “Five minutes.” He turns on his heel and makes his way back to his locker room, one closest to the exit. On the final turn to the room, he sees him.

Hangman.

Adam.

He’s on the phone, by the exit, talking frenetically and fidgeting with his belt buckle. He looks no different than before, when they were whatever they were. Champions, he guesses, but there was always so much more. Most unfortunately, though, he’s leaning up against the door of Kenny’s room.

He promised Matt five minutes. If he breaks that promise…

Kenny straightens his back, girds his loins, as they say, and walks toward the door like everything is normal. “Hey,” he says. “My locker room. Can I get in?”

Adam’s eyes are a little panicked, a little wild. He looks upwards, looks at Kenny, looks up again, and relaxes. “Sorry. Yeah. Uh.” He slides to the side. “Go right ahead.” He turns back to the phone. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Give me a minute.”

“Nah, you’re good,” Kenny says, waving it off. He feels too hot all of a sudden. Before he thinks about it, he pulls his shirt off over his head as he pushes into the locker room, then comes out with his phone. “You can, uh, go back there.”

Adam stares at him. “In front of a door? I, uh, I’m good here.” He wiggles his phone. “Tony’s trying to convince me to do some sort of interview later, but I’m exhausted.”

“You should,” Kenny says automatically. Adam raises his eyebrows. “Stay, I mean. I think people are really going to want to hear your plan for Moxley.”

Adam lets a small smile escape. “What, like, other than me wanting to drag him to hell?”

Kenny shrugs. “There could be more to it. I’m not in your head.”

Adam flinches like he got slapped, and Kenny wonders why he constantly fucks up with this man. “Yeah, you, uh, you’re not.” He pushes his hair out of his face. “You know where Tony is?”

“Yeah, I think he’s in the office. I’ll take you there.” It feels like an olive branch, at least to Kenny. Adam asking for help, allowing Kenny to give it. It feels like healing.

It’s devastatingly boring small talk on the short walk to the EVP office, talking about the weather and the traffic, but it’s more words between them without rage than they’ve exchanged since 2020.

“There’s a hallway between here and his office, but, uh, I’m sure he’ll let you in.” Kenny offers a smile to Adam, doing his best to be okay, be calm. To not spook him.

Adam nods. “Thanks, Kenny.” His eyes are locked onto Kenny’s. “I mean it.”

Kenny makes a strange little gesture toward the door, and his hand brushes against something hanging on the doorknob. He looks down, confused. “Oh.”

Adam follows his gaze, then groans. “Again?”

Kenny snaps up to look at him. “What, you’re just finding mistletoe all over the place?”

“Actually, yeah,” Adam says, looking a bit frazzled. “Like, this is the third one in the venue. It’s getting weird.”

Kenny laughs, but it’s too high pitched to be normal. “Weird. I didn’t put them up.”

Adam studies his face. “Why would you say that unless you’re the one who hung them?”

“I didn’t!” Kenny says. “Dude, I swear. I have nothing to do with the mistletoe.”

Adam’s fighting a smile, Kenny can tell. It’s one of the best looks for Adam. “You swear?”

“I swear,” Kenny says automatically.

Adam sighs. “Well, I’ve done the other two. Come here.”

“What?”

“Kissed somebody,” Adam explains, “with the mistletoe. It’s a tradition.”

“I know the tradition,” Kenny says. “I just – I’m surprised you’re – with me.” He swallows.

Adam’s smile turns kind. “It’s just a kiss, Kenny. If you don’t want to, we don’t.”

Kenny thinks about it for a minute. It’s a horrible decision. They’ve been through too much, hurt each other in too many ways, been away for too much time. This could be enough to shatter them both again.

He steps into Adam’s space, leaning in where Adam does, and their lips meet. It feels like warm honey in a cup of tea at home, like a heavy blanket on a snowy night when you know you’ll get a snow day the next morning. Kenny leans into it, resting a hand on Adam’s arm, drinking in the moment. If this is the last moment he shares with this man, a moment he never imagined possible, he wants it to echo.

They pull apart, and Kenny watches as Adam’s eyes flutter open.

“Okay,” Adam says, quiet. “Um. I’ll – I’ll be. Um.” He smiles, and it tattoos itself into Kenny’s soul, just like the rest of Adam.

“Yeah,” Kenny says. He hope his smile echoes his thoughts. “I gotta get to Matt and Nick. EVP shit, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Adam says. He reaches out to Kenny’s hand, though, and squeezes. “Talk later?”

Kenny feels the weight of the world float away. “Of course.”

When he gets back to Matt and Nick, Matt’s sitting there with a timer on his phone. Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds.

“Okay,” Kenny says, “I can explain.”

~

“You see Wheeler?” Willow asks, hopping up to sit next to Ruby. “He got absolutely flattened by Rush. I hope he’s okay.”

“He’s Blackpool,” Ruby says, waving the concern away. “He’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Willow says. She bounces her legs against the edge of the table. “So, this tag match. Got any ideas?”

“Kill them,” Ruby deadpans. Willow waits. “Okay, like, don’t give me that look. I’m thinking submissions – just make them cry about it.”

“That feels mean.”

“Sweetheart, you beat people up for a living,” Ruby says, purple-painted lips in a mildly condescending smile, “mean is literally your job.”

Willow huffs. “I’m not mean!” she argues. “I’m – firm! Decisive! I tell stories.”

“Through hitting people.”

“Okay, yeah, fine. By hitting people.” She bumps Ruby. “I am a little excited about punching Anna and Tay. They could use a good fist to the face.”

“Okay, see, while I like the tenacity, if you closed fist them, we get disqualified. And that’s the opposite of the goal.”

“Fair,” Willow concedes. “Elbows?”

Ruby grins, patting her own elbow. “All of ‘em.”

They plan out the match together, tag methods Willow’s never thought of before, moves Ruby’s sure she can pull off that Willow was always hesitant about.

Ruby says something, and Willow laughs so hard she falls backward. When she opens her eyes, she sees something on the ceiling. “Hey,” she says, forcing the words through giggles. “What’s that?”

Ruby looks up. “I think – oh.” She grins down at Willow. “Mistletoe.”

Willow shrugs. “I mean. Why not?”

Ruby leans down and kisses her, soft and sweet and quick. She pulls away, smiling. “You’ve got my lipstick all over your face.”

Willow grins back at her. “Tag team shit?”

“Tag team shit.”

~

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, just a kiss on the cheek!” Kenny says, grabbing at Nick’s arm. “EVP cheek smooches.” He pouts. “You used to do cheek smooches for Adam Cole.”

“Oh, shut up,” Nick says, but he makes the mistake of smiling. Kenny smells blood in the water, and Matt jumps in.

“Nick,” Matt says, “it’s a tradition. It’s either kiss him on the cheek or on the lips.”

Nick wrinkles his nose. “Ew. Okay, fine. Get over here. I hate both of you.”

“You love us,” Matt retorts, and Nick kind of wants to strangle him.

He and Matt kiss Kenny on the cheek underneath the mistletoe, and Brandon films it for BTE, with Kenny giving a rambling diatribe about how he’s going to find the person who posted all the mistletoe and destroy them.

“Okay, well, that’s a little much,” Matt laughs. “We’re not going to destroy anybody.”

“I might destroy you,” Nick mutters. “God, I just wanna go home. When’s our flight?”

“Not until later, baby brother,” Matt says, and he gives Nick the worst noogie since high school.

“Get off me!”

“Today was fun,” Matt says, throwing an arm around Nick’s shoulders. “Where’d you get the idea for mistletoe?”

Nick pauses, and Matt half stumbles over himself. “What?”

“The mistletoe,” Matt repeats. “That was you, right? Putting it all over the arena.”

Nick shakes his head slowly. “No. I thought it was you.”

They turn to Kenny in tandem. “Was it you?” Matt asks.

“No, I thought it was Matt, actually.” He stares Matt down, and Nick joins in.

“I didn’t do it!” Matt insists. “Why would I ask you about the idea if it was me?!”

“Because that’s how you would bring it up,” Nick says. “It’s annoying. You’re annoying. That’s how you’d bring it up.”

“You’re more annoying,” Matt grumbles.

“You two are missing the point,” Kenny interrupts. “If it wasn’t one of us putting the mistletoe everywhere, who the hell was it?”

~

Max giggles and jumps like a toddler. “This was so good!” he laughs, spinning in his seat.

“Shh!” Anthony says, yanking his arm to sit down. “They still don’t know who it was. Do you want to ruin it?”

Max gets himself under control. “Did you have any idea Mox and Eddie were, like, together?”

“Um, duh,” Anthony says. “Jesus, for somebody this gay, you sure are oblivious.”

“You’re gay,” Max retorts.

“Yeah,” Anthony says. “Focus. We now have blackmail on the entire company. What do you want to do with it?”

Max goes quiet for a minute, stewing. “Actually, you know what I want to do?”

“What?”

He grins at Anthony. “I want to go flirt with MJF.”

Anthony collapses backward onto the floor, groaning like somebody just hit him. “Stop flirting with the devil. He’s never going to love you back.”

“It could be a Christmas miracle!” Max says, leaping to his feet. “We could It’s A Wonderful Life this shit.”

“You did not understand the themes of that movie,” Anthony grumbles, but he follows Max anyway, and that’s enough of a Christmas gift for him.

He looks up. “Anthony,” he singsongs, “look what I found hanging from the ceiling!”

Max does not get kissed under the mistletoe. He gets tackled.

[therealgchu]

Snippet Sunday - Hot or Not To the Shore Style!

thanks @fangbangerghoul for the reminder <3. tagging the rest of the coemancer crew, @silurisanguine, @atonalginger, @a-cosmic-elf, @toxiclizardwrites, @samcoesclub, @eridanidreams, @bearlytolerant, @aislingdmdt, @staticpallour and whoever else i may have missed. i'm kinda doing this on the fly.

instead of a sneak peek into the new chapter, i'm going to put up some funny dialogue pieces. i just finished playing mass effect legendary edition, and there was the scene with edi and joker in the club discussing hot or not. so, i kept hearing the dialogue in my head of sam and hwa discussing who's hot or not.

all of the romanceable characters are canonically bi. i have a whole headcannon that sam had a crush on delgado when he was young. and hwa, while not exactly i would call bi, also isn't the straightest person, either. so, here's just some fun little dialogue bits. these will eventually get published on ao3. but, i'm still writing them as they occur to me.

if you want to read my whole fic, To the Shore, check it out on ao3.

Delgado

Sam: well, he is pretty cute. Hwa: really? You think so? Sam: I mean, he’s a pirate, and who doesn’t love pirates? Hwa: me, actually. Pirates are kinda stupid. The whole pirate romance thing was nonsense. Scurvy, buggery, frequent starvation, not my idea of a good time. As someone that spent way too much time in their teen years reading Horatio Hornblower and learning about Lord Nelson’s Navy, being a pirate was pretty shitty. Sam: yeah. But, they’re still hot. Hwa: hrm…looks at Delgado again. Ok, I’ll give that one to you. The red scarf is nice. And, I suppose scurvy isn’t nearly the problem now as it was in 1700. To be on the safe side, you should check his teeth. Sam: I’m not checking Delgado’s teeth. That’s just…weird. Hwa: I thought you said he was cute? Sam: And, how do you think I should check his teeth? What, do you want me to kiss him? Hwa: only if I get to watch. Sam: and what if I say no? Hwa: then you don’t get to kiss him.  Sam: how about you check his teeth. Hwa: I don’t want to kiss him. I don’t go for bad boys. That seems more your speed. Sam: you’re not wrong…

Naeva

Hwa: hrmmm Sam: what? Hwa: how about Naeva? Sam: how about Naeva what? Hwa: She’s curvy. I like curvy. Sam: Eh, not my type. Hwa: you don’t like curvy? Sam: I don’t like psycho Hwa: yet there’s Lillian Sam: touché

Hadrian

Sam: wow Hwa: wow Sam: yeah Hwa: yeah Sam: Hadrian? Hwa: Hadrian. Sam: she’s very strong Hwa: she’s very curvy Sam: you like curvy, don’t you? Hwa: you like strong, don’t you? Sam: yeah Hwa: yeah Sam: I bet she’d look hot wrestling a terrormorph Hwa: that’s where your imagination went to? Sam: what were you thinking? Hwa: not terrormorph wrestling, that’s for sure. Sam: ok, where did your brain go to Hwa: flowing silk dresses, hot summer sun, silk dresses with removable silk ties, bedposts. Blindfolds. You know, normal sexy stuff. Sam: takes out slate to take down notes…normal sexy stuff. Got it. Hwa: what are you writing? Sam: a grocery list

[cleolinda]

Weekend links

My posts

No perfume or vampire recap this week, although I have one of each about 3/4 drafted. New Medication Side Effects are slowing me down (but I'm doing well on it otherwise).

Social media hell

Threads was a mistake. For me, not Zuckerberg; I'm sure it's great for him. In theory I was trying it out so you wouldn't have to, but I regret all the choices that led me to this. It is the tenth circle of privacy hell. Someone else can try out the bad idea next time. Save yourself.

After discussing the difficulty of getting on Mastodon, I actually did manage to wrestle my way through the signup process, because I felt like it wasn't fair to complain if I didn't at least try. I am now on mastodon.world. I'm not sure if I want to be there ("Shitposting is not allowed")? Can I go somewhere else? What... what are the somewhere elses? I am currently reading up on this.

I have wrangled a Bluesky invite! "What's Hot" seems a lot like the list of media journalists I follow on Twitter, which I haven't been on full-time in years. Bluesky will probably be more enjoyable once more people I know get on, which they might be able to do if Jack Dorsey would open Bluesky to the public already.

I feel very out of step with microblogging culture after years away—oddly, I got back on Tumblr full-time late last year and I felt at home pretty much immediately, which means that you're stuck with me now.

Reblogs of interest

20,000 Pounds of Trash Removed From Pacific Garbage Patch: ‘Holy mother of god. It worked!’

Search engines and databases that aren't Google

G/O Media forced a nonsensical AI-generated Star Wars article onto io9, and the staff is pissed

Video

Indigenous Horror Films

Sparrow Tarot: Judgment and the Ace of Pentacles

Dance Here ⭕️

Dug in Real Life

The sacred texts

Tama the Eternal Stationmaster

Me getting up in the morning like

Tony Hawk's existential nightmare

IF YOU LIKE PIÑA COLADA

Personal tags of the week

One orange braincell (see also the subreddit of the same name devoted to doofy orange cats)

Fashion, some of it from the Fall 2023 runways

[ask-icancraft-it]

Love's Retribution: Chapter 5

((Chapter 5 of the Western AU is here! Things get heavy as Tamora is reminded of why she can't let her guard down. Tagging folks for visibility @sgtcalhouns, @bashfulgnome, @sadboytristan))

TW: Brief allusion to sexual assault

Chapter Master List

—

Tamora awoke, squinting through the dark. She heard a distant shattering of glass, followed by laughter. Sitting up, the blonde felt the grit and dirt of the ground scraping her knees through the thin fabric of her nightgown. The smell of smoke and an orange glow seeped through the cracks in the boards above her.

Feeling the stacks of stored wood at her sides, panic crept in, and she fumbled for the ladder through what little light she had, climbing up to the rectangular outline marking her way out. Pushing up with her hands, her breath quickened as the door didn’t budge. Those bastards had blocked her in. 

Ramming her shoulder into the wood, she shouted, the smoke beginning to sting her lungs. Shove after shove, the door started to give way as she desperately fought to get through. With one last cry, Tamora finally burst from the floor, scrambling up and into the center of the burning building.

Through the searing heat, she crawled, charred debris raining from above. She passed a pair of boots, not daring to look at the body attached to them as tears stained her face. 

She had to get out. 

Gasping, the blonde spilled out of the front doorway, the chilly air a welcome relief from the flames that licked at her skin. Moments later, the wood cabin finally gave out, its ceiling and walls caving in a burst of cinders. The house was completely gone within minutes, leaving a pile of burning lumber in the middle. As Tamora stared at the remaining flames, they danced and changed shape, taking the form of a man. 

She stood, feet numbed by the frost clinging to the grass. Trembling, she approached the fiery figure.

“Brad?” she whispered. Though made of flame, his face was unmistakable as he turned. 

He smiled, yet sadness filled his eyes as he looked at her. A glowing hand came upwards to caress her face. Tamora flinched, but the fire did not burn her, so she leaned into his gentle touch. 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry—” she cried. 

The flames shifted, and suddenly before her was Felix with that same doleful look. 

Tamora’s eyes grew wide, a gasp escaping her lips as she stepped back. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked down, horrified by the body lying at her feet. The dead man among the glowing cinders was not Brad, but Felix, his cold eyes staring up at her as dark streams of blood poured from his torso. 

The blonde screamed, hitting the floor. With panicked breaths, her eyes darted around a blue, moonlit room. 

“F-Fe—” she tried making words, but nonsense spilled out in her agitated state.

Felix rushed around the corner, brandishing his hunting rifle. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears as he scanned the room for whatever threat Tamora was awoken by. When he saw nothing, the handyman looked down to where she wrestled with the bed linens on the floor. 

“Felix!” she finally cried, still disoriented as she fought to get up. 

Setting his firearm down, he knelt, helping to untangle her. 

“I’m here!” he said. “I’m here. What happened?”

Tamora looked at him as if she’d seen a ghost. Starting at his torso, her hands grasped as they climbed up to touch his face. Her palms on either side of his jaw, she looked him twice over, tears filling her eyes from the relief that he was still alive. 

“Tammy?” The handyman’s voice was laced with concern, and he gulped when the blonde pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Slowly, carefully, he returned her embrace while she sobbed against his chest. 

“You’re okay,” he spoke softly, repeating those words and holding her until she calmed down. 

“Oh, God,” Tamora sniffed, wiping the tears from her face. “I’m sorry…”

“No need to apologize,” Felix reassured her. “I’m just glad you’re…are you all right?”

More tears threatened to fall as she shook her head.

“I had a husband—” she disclosed, feeling like she had to confess everything. “We had just gotten married when three men came to our ranch. They killed him... And when they were done with me, they took our things and burned our home to the ground.”

A look of horror crossed the handyman’s face, his heart shattering. “Oh, lands—” he said after processing everything she’d said. “Tamora…I’m so sorry.”

“I haven’t been alright since that night he died. Then I ended up here,” the blonde added. “I’m beginning to find I feel alright when I’m with you…But I can’t—”

Felix was unsure what to say, staggered by her words. He knew she had been hurt in some significant way, but what he had pondered never came close to reality. 

“Could we…Would you like to talk over some coffee?” Tamora nodded and he helped her get comfortable in her chair before lighting the oil lamp and stoking the stove. He always thought better with busy hands, so Felix cleaned the supper plates while waiting for the water to boil. 

Drying off, he glanced at Tamora; she looked back, her tears mostly gone. The handyman then grabbed the rifle he’d rested against the edge of her bed and tucked it safely back in his room.  

“If someone had come in,” the blonde piped up. “Would you have shot them?”

“If I felt I had to,” he replied, dropping some grounds in the boiling coffee pot. Another span of silence filled the room as he tended to the brew. Pouring two servings, Felix stepped over to the chair beside Tamora’s. Sitting, he extended her mug for her to accept. 

The handyman couldn't bring himself to take a sip yet, running his fingers over the enamel surface of his cup. 

“H-how long has it been? Since your husband—”

“Three years,” Tamora responded. “Sorry…do you have any whiskey?”

Felix hesitated before getting back up, walking to the kitchen cabinet, and pulling out a flask of the good stuff. Uncorking it, he poured an ounce into her coffee. She thanked him, and he momentarily looked down at his cup. With a little shrug, he spilled some of the golden liquid for himself. 

Despite the heaviness in the room, that made Tamora smile.

“I threw a lot at you at once,” the blonde acknowledged. “You don’t need to come up with any profound response.”

The handyman nodded, taking a little more time as he settled back in his chair at the table.

“I think it’s no secret that I’m… sweet on you,” he began softly. “I’ve tried to be mindful because I saw your struggle. But I fear I’ve stepped out of line…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened to you…I never meant to make things harder— or to dig up bad memories. I just wanted to be good to you.”

“You are good to me,” Tamora replied. “I don’t want you to feel guilty for that.”

Looking down, she realized she had placed a hand on his thigh. An image of Felix’s dead eyes from her nightmare flashed in her mind and she retreated.

“But I need to remind myself of reality. I’ve been hunting Cyrus for a long time and killed a lot of those bastards, including the three that ruined my life...But their leader, like me, isn’t exactly the forgive-and-forget type.”

Tamora paused to sip her drink; anything to chase away that awful visage that jolted her awake. 

“If they find me, they’ll kill you,” she said, tears welling up. “I can’t let that happen; I can’t go through that again.”

Felix swallowed the lump in his throat. “I understand,” he murmured. Reaching for her hand on the table, he linked his pinky with hers, fearing anything more would make her shy away. She shifted in her seat, but her hand stayed where it was.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Tammy... But don’t let it shatter your faith that things could be different. Whether you stay, or go—that’s your choice. Just know there’s a life here for you if you want it.”

“How is it that you’re not scared?”

“Who says I’m not?” Surprised, Tamora looked into his eyes. Suddenly, she could see what hid below coming to the surface. “I was terrified when you yelled for me— I thought someone had hurt you again.”

The handyman wiped a tear that rolled down his cheek. “I-I’m sorry…I’m supposed to be comforting you,” he sniffed. 

Tamora felt guilty for causing him distress, but a part of her was relieved to know she wasn’t alone. 

“You are,” she said, weaving her fingers loosely with his. They shared melancholic smiles, both taking some solace in the tender connection.

After a while, the blonde’s more thorny nature retook its hold and she let go, polishing off her coffee. This made Felix realize he hadn’t drunk any of his, swirling the whiskey-spiked beverage before having a taste. His nose scrunched up, and he coughed after a painful swallow.  

“Smooth, isn't it?” Tamora smirked. 

“Oh yeah,” he rasped, clearing his throat. “Goes down easy.”

“I’m surprised you had any; you don’t seem the type.”

“I drink,” Felix feigned offense. “On occasion.”

“Really?” the blonde chuckled, cheek in hand. “Tell me about the last time you bent your elbow.” 

Felix couldn’t help but smile at her reversal. Taking another sip, he prepared to stay awake with Tamora for as long as she needed; no matter how many embarrassing stories it might take.