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kira-fluff · 2 years

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I saw your “enemies to lovers” and I was wondering if you could do one for Oikawa, Kageyama and Tsukishima please.

a/n: of course i will continue to write my most favoritest trope in the whole wide world it is flawless and lovely and beautiful that being said i feel like this is shit but it is what it is tw: swearing, suggestive

enemies to lovers - haikyuu!! x reader

oikawa tooru you hate him because he's so. fucking. arrogant.

it wasn't fair that god seemed to bless some people with more beautiful faces regardless of whether they deserved it or not. why is he so pretty? his personality is shit. you reasoned that perhaps in order to be good-looking you must be as equally intolerable. you took it upon yourself to knock oikawa down a few pegs whenever you could. he deserved it, what with his carefree attitude and conceited behavior. you cringed at all the fan girls that surrounded him. sure he was attractive, but you only wished they would open their eyes and realize how badly they were being deceived by his "happy-go-lucky" nature that secretly hid a dark, sinister, evil side. you tried to rant to your friends but they'd always stop you saying he "wasn't that bad".. but it was clear that they just didn't seem to see oikawa for the piece of shit that he really was! his stupid, shit-eating grin and his gross, fluffy, beautiful, luscious hair were annoying in and of itself, but then he always seemed to get a kick out of making you the butt of all his flirtacious jokes.

"hi-hi, y/n-chan~ you'll come cheer me on at my next match, won't you?"

you deadpanned, "i'd rather die."

you heard his friend, iwaizumi hajime, let out a loud laugh (he seemed alright to you) while oikawa's obnoxious, whiny voice said, "sO mEaN iWa-ChAN!!" he deserved it. stupid, annoying oikawa.

the thing that annoyed you most is how he seemed to always carry himself like he was so much better than you. as if being a volleyball player and the captain of the team made him fucking GOD or something. it made you despise sports altogether - it was just so common to see athletes who were so full of themselves act like they're the greatest thing to ever fucking exist. so you had never went to a single game aoba johsai played - of any sport - but especially volleyball. you rolled your eyes as you studied in the library, hearing the loud, bothersome cheers coming from the gymnasium during their matches. sometimes you even heard an "oikawa-saaaan~~~" which made you nearly gag. why did girls even like him? his personality alone was the least attractive thing you'd ever seen in your entire life and he was not that handsome. in fact, his shitty personality immediately made him go from maybe a 7 to a 1. or a negative number, if you could rate him so. it was so annoying! you felt bad for all of them - using their money to buy him gifts and giving their hearts to him only for him to crush them by dating them for a week or just flat-out rejecting them. you'd think after the first few times it happened that they'd learn their lesson but after so long they still trailed after him like lost puppies. you pitied them, really.

you were interrupted from your trance by the clearing of a throat. you looked up to see the fucker himself, oikawa tooru. you weren't in the mood for good graces so you glowered at him, muttering a low, "what."

he smirked at you like he knew something you didn't, "just reminding you my game is tonight."

you sighed, your eyebrows narrowing further, "it's not just your game, it's aoba johsai's game. and like i'd ever go to watch you."

he leaned closer to you, his stupid cologne fumes getting in your nose. "are you sure, y/n-chan~?"

you rolled your eyes, "positive. now please leave me alone."

he huffed, "why don't you-"

"obsess over you? cry for your attention? wet my pants when i see you?" you interrupted.

he begrudgingly muttered, "i was going to say, like me.."

you scoffed, "why don't i like you?" your voice was getting louder now, "maybe because you're an arrogant piece of shit who only thinks about himself!"

his eyes widened, then narrowed. his voice grew low, "...you don't know me."

you laughed, "pretty sure i do, actually."

you moved closer to you, "you barely even look at me, much less show up to any of the school's games. i think we both know who the arrogant one is. 'oh i'm so special! i'm not like those other girls! i'm so quirky and amazing because i pride myself on not giving a shit when in reality all i ever am is angry at the world because if i were gone no one would even notice!'"

you blink back tears, "..you're a piece of shit." you ground out the words, wiping hastily at your eyes.

he smirked sardonically, "again, you barely even know me. you don't know the first thing about me. i bet i know more about you than you know about me."

"really? what with the way you advertise every moment of your life, i find that hard to believe!" you jeered.

"wanna bet?" he placed his hands dramatically on his hips.

you sighed, "well, for starters, you think you're better than everyone else because you play volleyball and you're slightly good-looking if you squint and you have good grades because then you can brag about them and your friends all make fun of you."

he raised an eyebrow, "that's all?"

"there's not much else, you're pretty shallow."

he swallowed thickly, "well i know that you like to pretend that you're better than everyone else just because you pretend that everything everyone else likes is uncool in comparison to you sitting by yourself all lonely and sad. you like to look down on other people for being conceited and you hate sports because you think that anyone who plays a sport must be oh so arrogant or else your theory that me being a piece of shit will be proven wrong. you try hard in every aspect of your life but you don't want other people to notice because you so desperately want others to validate you for completing things flawlessly and without any struggle. you are afraid that other people will see the real you so you pretend to be someone you're not. you think others don't notice the way you cry if you get below an A on your test and you secretly love volleyball even if you pretend you hate it. you think no one notices when you fall asleep in the library because you were studying so hard you passed out."

you blinked in surprise. "thats-"

he continued, "you almost fainted after midterms. you were pale like a ghost. you suck at taking care of yourself and you suck even more at pretending you hate the things you like. you're so..."

you looked at him up and down, "annoying?"

he shook his head. "i was going to say beautiful."

"you're so full of shit."

he rolled his eyes, "would you rather i'd said 'ugly'?"

"that'd be a compliment coming from you." you smirked.

he averted his eyes, "well that's the last time i ever compliment you."

"like you even meant it! you're a flirt. you manipulate people to get what you want."

"i do not!"

"yes you do! you play with their hearts until you've had your fill of their attention." you sighed, "it's no wonder iwaizumi calls you 'shittykawa'."

oikawa huffed, then grabbed you by the arm, rushing you into a deserted classroom.

you glared up at him, eyes radiating pure malice. "i hate you."

oikawa's eyes traveled downward before snapping up again to your eyes. his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly, his eyes growing hazy. the next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. the strangest part is that you didn't pull away. in fact, instead of feeling strong disgust, you found yourself leaning into his touch as his hand found purchase on your cheek and jawbone. oikawa lightly slid his tongue over your lip, gaining entrance into your mouth where the two of you battled for dominance. in the end it was he who won, though you swore it was only because you so desperately needed air. as you pulled away, a string of spit strung between your lips. you were no longer glaring, instead, you wore a dopey expression of surprise and desire, though his expression was no different. his pupils were blown so wide you could see your own reflection in them. yet, his eyebrows were also creased, as if in pain.

then he said words you thought you'd never hear him say.

"i'm sorry."

you opened your mouth to speak but he continued.

"i'm sorry i haven't done that sooner." he winked, before walking away, leaving you enraged and chasing after him. there wasn't anything else that needed to be said between you - the kiss said it all.

kageyama tobio you hate him because he hates you.

you weren't one to judge someone for having a resting bitch face but you were convinced this guy genuinely hated your guts. he seemed to radiate hatred whenever you were around. if you turned toward him, his expression immediately soured.

so, you decided two could play at that game and from then forward, a silent game ensued. you weren't sure how many of the rules kageyama understood or was aware of but you were certain of one thing: you weren't going to lose.

when engaging in eye contact, the first to change their expression even a little bit loses

if you make the other laugh, it's an automatic win

no talking whatsoever

they weren't difficult rules to abide by, except when you had the burning need to trade a few insults with him. the strangest thing is that you never seemed to hear he was talking bad about you. you thought for sure by now you'd hear all the sorts of things he'd be saying about you to his teammates but so far you hadn't heard a thing. you assumed they must just be very close-lipped individuals or that kageyama must not have many friends (which is definitely a possibility if you're being honest). even though you're sworn to hatred of your nemesis, that thought made you a little sad. but you were sworn enemies, you told yourself, because he hated you. it upset you that you weren't sure why he disliked you.. and it bothered you even more that he refused to talk to you about it. perhaps you had made him upset about something. still, you recalled the time you tried to go up to him to talk to him about it - you called out his name - only for him to take one look at you before completely ignoring you and turning around, walking away. that set you on the path to hating him from then on. still, it made you sad that he refused to talk to you about it.

it wasn't until second-year when the two of you shared the same homeroom when you were surprised to see that maybe he was finally forgiving you. after you'd gave him an eraser to borrow, he smiled a little and quietly said, "thank you." another time you scored a perfect 100% on your test and he awkwardly said, "g-g-g-good job." it sort of threw you off that it took him so much effort to say it, like giving you a compliment was some sort of chore, but you were glad that he was at least trying to be nice now.

"y/n?"

you turned in surprise, greeted by kageyama tobio himself. you raised an eyebrow in question.

he continued, "w-would y-you want to g-go on a date with me?"

you blinked in surprise. "w-what?" was he joking?

his face was quite flushed now as he averted his gaze, "n-nevermind."

you made a noise of hesitation, "wait, you don't hate me?"

it was his turn to blink in surprise, ".....hate you?" he turned his head to the side in confusion. "i...i don't hate you.."

your expression only grew more confused. this didn't make any sense. he always glares at you when you walk by... right?

what you didn't know is that each time he turned away from you, it was to hide his raging, red blush. each time he frowned at you, it was in an attempt to calm his beating hard, so rapid it was nearly about to come out of his chest. kageyama was much more confused of his emotions than anyone else.

tsukishima kei you hate him because he's rude and mean and RUDE.

leave it to tsukishima fucking kei to shit on your parade. you were notorious around school for being "miss sunshine" - the light of class 1-A: you tried to be as positive as possible.

"tsukishima-kun, look, this week there's going to be an event for your volleyball club to raise funds! isn't that so exciting?" he only deadpanned at you before replying, "acting excited doesn't make the job any less of a hassle." not only was he a huge buzzkill, but he was also just a huge meanie! a big jerk! you tried everything from searching for hobbies that might motivate him to even blackmail (which went about as well as you could expect) to try to get him to like you.

to make matters worse, he was a wiz at school which made every time you got a test back the bane of your existence. no matter how hard you tried to hide your score, you'd always catch the little sneer sent your way from the blonde boy. you sank in your seat as you took in the "F" on the top of your paper. tears welled up in your eyes as you turned around and stuck out your tongue. he'd only smirk in that rude, mean way he does while mouthing, "dummy". so, you decided, you'd hate him. you'd hate him so much that you would purposefully try to irritate him as much as possible. it brought you immense joy to see the irritation on his face as you'd poke him or jeer at him. it was a side none of your classmates had seen before - you weren't any less positive, but you definitely got a big kick out of pushing tsukishima's buttons. anything that would annoy tsukki was fair game. that meant calling him "tsukki" or "kei" whenever you got the chance. you also made a point of being extra loud in the morning when he was yawning and grinning a wide smile at him while he glared at you. if there was a moment during your breaks where tsukki had accomplished something, you'd smack his back extra hard while "complimenting" him with sayings like, "wow, as expected from Glasses Guy!" (another one of his least favorite nicknames). the spectacle amused your classmates and even encouraged you, much to tsukishima's dismay. but that's what he gets for being such a bully to you. sometimes he'd purposefully move things in the classroom to higher shelves when he knew you'd need to reach for them and couldn't. you'd always turn around and glare at him before sticking your tongue out.

as much as tsukki hated to admit it, a lot of what he thought about consisted of you. how he was going to annoy you or pay you back for what you'd done. but it was because you were so annoying - a huge dummy - he reasoned, that he couldn't ignore you. the way you ran around trying so hard and failing like a little mouse was amusing as it was equally obnoxious. he reasoned that maybe this was the reason he found himself becoming less bothered with you and actually beginning to enjoy your company - if that was even possible.

don't get him wrong, you were still extremely annoying. like that time you'd stood and talked with a second-year for what felt like hours during lunch, twirling your hair around your finger and smiling like an idiot. and then you started to giggle and covered your mouth which was something you never did around him (you usually laughed as loud as possible). it was disgusting, the way you flirted so openly with a guy, to his knowledge, you barely knew at all. so, he decided he'd put a stop to the spectacle that was definitely making everyone else as equally irritated as him. he stood up and walked over - visibly towering over the second-year - and stared him down. the loser seemed to catch the hint because he mumbled some excuse before retreating into the hallway.

"that was really mean of you, tsukki," you huffed.

tsukishima rolled his eyes, long-since given up on correcting your nickname (and strangely he didn't find that he disliked it too much anymore), "i thought i might throw up if i see anymore that."

you glowered at him, "anymore of what, tsukki?"

he narrowed his eyes, "you know what you were doing."

you puffed out your cheeks in the way that you knew bothered him because he looked away, his ears turning red - from anger, of course. "that's not fair!"

he raised an eyebrow, challenging you, "what isn't fair about anything that i said? do i need to spell it out for the dummy?" he grinned sardonically.

you scrunched your nose, "s-shut up, tsukki! you're so mean! what have i ever done to you?!"

tsukishima was already feeling anger boil up in him, "what haven't you done? just you being around is a chore in and of itself."

you blinked. he swallowed as your eyes turned glassy. you voice was only above a whisper as you replied, "then i guess i'll just stop bothering you." and then you turned around and ran.

the following week you ignored tsukishima. not that he really went out of his way to talk to you, you noticed. it had always been you going up to him and making a point to bother him. the thought saddened you - you hadn't even realized how much he hated you. and that thought angered you more. you decided from that point forward to ignore anything he did, unless to provide a scathing remark - just to give him a taste of his own medicine.

what you hadn't noticed is tsukishima's gaze that so often wandered over to you.

to be honest, he admired how hard you worked... for him, it wasn't necessarily an "effort" he put in rather than raw talent when it came to school. it's why, he reasoned, he'd so often catch himself staring at you while you nodded at the teacher mid-lecture, faithfully highlighting your notes. only for you to fail the test the next day. unfortunately you seemed to be more aware than he thought because you'd always catch him looking, but thankfully seemed to write it off as an insult because you'd always stick out that damn tongue of yours. the first time you'd stuck out your tongue he found himself swallowing like an idiot, entranced. so irritating.. you always did such unnecessary things.

he did feel bad for what he said to you. he was aware of his habit of saying this he didn't entirely mean. and well, what he said couldn't have been further from the truth.

you blanched.

"in order to get your grades up, i decided to make the decision to get you a tutor." you teacher grinned.

you heard the familiar, annoyed sigh and knew immediately who it was. you teacher smiled a little wider, "tsukishima-kun here owes me a little favor," she clasped her hands together, "so here we are."

tsukki rolled his eyes before meeting your own, mouthing, "thanks a lot." you frowned at him. this was going to be a long semester.

as soon as your teacher left, you slumped down into one of the library chairs, groaning. he sneered, "you're acting like you're the one suffering here."

you glared at him, "trust me, i am."

"funny, you're not the one trying to teach the idiot calculus."

"'m not an idiot, shitty-shima"

he laughed, "that's a new one."

"just get this over with."

he rolled his eyes, "believe me, i don't want to be here any more than you do."

strangely enough, though, tsukishima was a faithful teacher. he seemed to be patient enough in explaining each of the mathematical concepts that continued to stump you. sure, there wasn't a bit of encouragement when you answered something correct, but at least he didn't make fun of you when you answered something incorrectly this time. in fact, he reasoned that the areas where you messed up were common misconceptions. almost like he was trying to comfort you. almost.

it had barely felt like an hour when tsukki looked at the clock and sighed, saying that he was going to be late for practice if you didn't stop there. it had really been almost three hours already? despite yourself, you found yourself thanking him bashfully to which he nodded in response.

out of the blue he said, "about before," he sighed, "sorry."

your eyes widened in surprise. you blinked before abruptly asking, "hey, tsukki?"

"hm?"

"why... why do you hate me?"

he raised an eyebrow, "..hate you?"

you scoffed, "well you don't exactly make it subtle."

you stared down at you, his expression serious, "i don't hate you."

you smacked his arm lightly, "you don't have to lie."

he caught your hand, peering into your eyes, "i'm not lying."

you don't know what possessed you to say what you said next.

"prove it."

he swallowed thickly before taking your arms in his and diving swiftly, kissing you deeply. it felt strangely familiar, like something you'd felt before, yet had been deprived of your entire life. most of all, it felt right - something that scared you, knowing that only moments ago you believed he was the last person you'd ever want to kiss. and yet here you were, panting, eyes blown wide, and completely entranced.

he was so confusing, but you were willing to spend your entire life trying to solve the puzzle that was tsukishima kei.

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toomanyfandomsimfanvergent · 2 years

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Finnick Odair x Reader

Request from my friend, @sakuraazharuno

"We will be fine," Finnick assures. He always tried to make sure you didn't worry. If you started worrying, then Finnick worried about you worrying. But you would try not to worry, for your lovers sake.

"Yeah, it's just the Quarter Quell interviews for this stupid fucking game that we were supposed to of gotten out for because we won," you rant.

Finnick sighs. There was no point. You were going to worry. The best he could do was comfort you. He could never make you stop worrying. It didn't work like that. He could, however make it easier.

"It's going to be okay," he says. It wouldn't. He was lying. Nothing was okay if the capitol was involved.

"No it's not. Fin, one of us is going to die. And honestly, its going to be of us. If you did I'm giving up, and I know if I die. You won't make it," you say again.

"No, if anything happens to me, you win," he says and pulls you in for a hug.

It was a nice hug. You felt the soft fabric of his sweater burns against your partially bare chest.

You pull away as your names are announced.

Finnick grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

You walk on stage and see Caesar, Caesar 'makes death of children seem fun' Flickerman.

"Yn! Finnick! Always a joy," Caesar says. His arms wide as you both give him a saide hug. "sit sit," Caesar encourages.

"Well! I believe there is actually a surprise," he says. To happy for the fact you and Fin were going to die.

"That is correct,* Finnick says. Why is he so nervous? What new disaster for the tributes has been discovered?

Katniss watches with interest as Finnick reads some shitty love poem. What catches her off guard is that he proposes!

He pulls out a ring. He copies them?!

Katniss whispers to Peeta," They copied us. They're probably trying to be the new star crossed lovers,"

Peeta just squeezes her hand a bit harder.

It would be fine, I mean who would buy this?

I mean, the fake tears? Really and that hug with the kiss. Stupid. Fake.

Who did they think they were? A stupid lover of his, what number 100? And probably first former victor. It was a horrible plan.

So fake, she scoffs as yn says something stupid and emotional to finnick before the fake lovers leave the stage.

"FINNICK, HELP HELP, FIN," Katniss and Finnick hear yn scream, but she's no where to be found.

Katniss tries to calm finnick, they had just done the same thing with Prim.

He was faking it pretty hard as he ran through the jungle screaming for her.

Her painful screams filled their ears, "Finny please," she would sob. It sounded so real.

"YN, YN. YN, PLEASE," he sobs as he hears her scream again. Where was she? How could he of let this happen?

"ITS NOT REAL," Katniss yells over the screaming mutts. He wasn't listening. Of course he wasn't. He had to fake it for the cameras. Or maybe he wasn't...

Finnick finally sees the campsite you were swimming with your knife. Looking for fish. You were safe.

Finnick took off after you and full body tackles you, "Yn, I thought," he sobs into your shoulder as you move to knee deep water.

You hold him as he cries.

It was then, Katniss realized. Finnick wasn't faking it. Neither was YN. She wasn't a capitol lover. They genuinely loved each other.

It shocked her. They were in love. Real love.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #catching fire #hunger games finnick #finnick x y/n #finnick imagine #Thg #thg moments #thg fandom #thg rpg #thg aesthetic #thg fanart #thg headcanons #thg incorrect quotes #finnick x reader

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dballzposting · 5 months

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Vent Post

This is the best gift I ever received and so funny and crazy as well becasue when I was young there just WASNT toys or clothing or any merchandise available for Cartoons or Vdoeo Games or what have you. If you wanted to see your favorite character you would have to go to Google Images on your DSi (wi-fi permitting) and look at the same Deviantart drawings over and over

Super Mario and Pokemon plushes were like items of royalty (other than Pikachu. Pikachus were highly respected but nonetheless common. Kind of like cats in real life). They were rare and impossible to find and my brother had some Mario pluishies and we wer elike WOOOWOWHWOWHWO HOW DID YOU EVEN FIND THOSE ?!?!?! Honestly we probbaly just didnt know how to use the internet. But nonetheless that was the first impression of life that i got when it came to video game or cartoon stuff. What you wanted most just simply did not exists

Nopwadays of course it's completely different and I stil find myself reeling. You can go online and customize stickers and clothing EASILY !!!!!!!! You can go to the mall and find a store that sells Waluigi plushies like it's No Big Deal. They propbably have him in 3 different sizes

So when I got into dragon ball I was delighted (and contonue to be delioghted) at how EASY it is to just ... FIND IT ANYWHERE ??? You go into any random store and there's a chance of finding some sweatshirt with goku on it. For no reason. AND I'M ALWAYS THRILLED TO SEE IT !!!!!

And I was disappinted but Not Surpised when I find out that they just dont really make Goten & Trunks merchandise like they do with anyone else. Plenty of Gohan, plenty of Future Trunks, and that's swag. But you're not gonna find little Goten or Trunks (with the exception of those crappy 1999-2000 series figurines of them WHICH I DID ACQUIRE two years ago at my local Goku store and yes I did immediately tear the original packaging asunder. Actually I'm not religious but tearing them open did feel like a holy and careful thing to do and so I felt strongly compelled to get in the shower and thoroughly wash my feet first???? I don't now why. But I did do that)

And when the Superhero movie was announced it was like AIEEEEE New Goten & Trunks designs !!!

But then even a while after the movie came out I was struggling to find screenshots. No official art was even appearing on google images for a while and the movie wasn't on any of my sites, but I did find some yourube videos with them in it. But I wanted better refs of Goten & Trunks and I was just having trouble. But then a while after that they DID start appearing on Google Images and that was enough to MAKE ME HAPPY!!!!!!!

But i wasnt expecting MERCHANIDSE. Like OF COURS ENOT !!! Like DBZ is crazy popualr but you can't find EOZ merch anywhere, OF COURSE I won't find Goten & Trunks mercfh.

But I mean. THEY WANT TO MILK THIS CASH COW FOR AS LONG AS THEY CAN !!!! They put Goten & Trunks in the manga. Merchanise of them started to appear and i was stunned when my attention was directed toward it but it was still few. A month ago I acidentially found a blind bag of DBS:SH bag clips online and Goten & Trunks were there and I was like OOUGH...HAA....HUH !?!? I recovered thoguh and did not buy any.

DESPITE THE GLARING EVIDENCE THOUHG I JUST DIDNT BELEIVE THAT I COULD EVER ACQUIRE A NICE FIGURINE OF GOTEN ????

I Did Not Know this existed and I don't think it has existed for long. Most thoughtful gift. I'M SO THRILLED !!!!

Very funny to receive JUST Goten. It's never JUST Goten. It's a;lways Goten & Trunks. Goten & Gohan. Goten & His GT Girlfriend. It's never JUST Goten. BUT HERE HE IS!!! JUST HIM!!!!!

And he looks Dumb too he looks stupid the shadows on his face make him look ill. He's got shitty doodoo hair. This is so dumb but they are milking this cash cow baby. AND I'M SO GLAD TO HAVE HIM !!

It's COOL becasue it's a unique design for him. That's probaby why theyre putting out DBS:SH Goten & Trunks merchandise. Becasue there's something to put out there.

Goten only had like 2 designs that were unique and interesting. Here's what I mean:

When he's little he has a few differnt outfits that are colorful and interesting but we don't remeber them and they don't stand out becasue he's not in them long. Gohan had some different outfits throughout his childhood too but we don't remeber them for the same reason.

Goten's most recognizable outfit is his gi and he looks pretty much exactly like Goku so no one cares.

In DB Super he's got an outfit that we';ve actually seen him in beforer only now he's wearing it 24/7. This is more noteworrthty but there's still no merch of him (EXCEPT FOR A BAG CLIP THAT I WAS FORTUNATE ENOUHG TO ACQUIRE.. FOREVE RTHNAKFUL...). Ultimately it's not necessarily UNIQUE becasue like yeah his mother dressed him so what. It's nothing we haven't seen before already

His GT appearance is ..... SO... UNNOTEWORTHY. The whole appeal of his character is that he has a phone and a gilrfinred. HE LOOKS LESS VISUALLY INTERESTING THAN THE TOWNIES. It's especially comical when you see him standing amongst the rest of the cast. PROOF

When i saw his scene I had to pause and laugh for a while. HE'S SUCH A NOBODY!!!!! HE LOOKS LIKE A RANDO WHO JUST WALKED IN. Like some store clerk or something

HIS ONLY INTERESTING AND UNIQUE DESIGNS ARE:

HIS INFAMOUS "SON GOTEN" SHIRT, which he wore for ONE EPISODE at EOZ. Noteworthy mostly due to his new height and long hair

HIS DBS:SH OUTFIT. Noteworhty becasue he's FINALLY growing up and his hair is getting long.

... ^ WE DIDNT GET THE LATTER UNTIL THE SUMMER OF 2022. All we had for a long time was his purple man jeans in GT and his SON GOTEN pride shirt in EOZ. And there's NO merch of those, in all of these years.

His outfit in DBS:SH is sort of superb in how it links the tradsitonal clothes he's always worn and the cityboy fits he gravitates towards later. His mother picked that shirt out but you know that he bought those pants at Kohl's

He's just so funny .... This figurine is so funny .. It came with bubble wrap wrapped ONLY around his head like a bag of shame and im honestly gonna put it back on becasaue he is so ugly.

PEACE AND LOVE !!!!

#dballz posting

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critical-thinking-is-mandatory · 1 year

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I find it so funny when stans say that Adrien and other rich kids in the show are "groundbreaking representation" or something because they're not. It's an overused trope that makes all of us appreciate how damn broke we all are because at least "we don't suffer like rich people do". What I mean is, you have Adrien, who's born super mega rich, but is trapped in this golden cage and isn't allowed to be himself. There's a clear link to his suffering and his status as a rich model. He also has an "emotional support poor", Marinette, who is "the only one who understands his pain" and is also "the only one who can ground him". Because unlike rich people, poor people don't have trouble with complicated relationships to their families. And this is very striking in miraculous, every poor person has a good relationship with their family (the biggest family issue was maybe the Luka/Jagged thing but even that got resolved immediately) while the rich kids all suffer abuse. And they do nothing about it not because the writers want to showcase how hard it can be for abuse victims but because they think that's the job of the poor friends they have, mainly Marinette. She is supposed to fix Adrien's family problems for him accordung to the bible, she was Kagami's first friend and had to talk to her mom to let her compete in the friendship game and she even tried to help Chloe's family situation! ... Sorry this got so long, it was just a thought I had and I felt like sharing.

Anon, you're literally so right.

Like, how many characters exist that are just like "privileged child of terrible parent feat. optional heroism or redemption"? I can think of at least 4 in Avatar: tla ALONE. (All of which were done miles and miles better than Adrien.)

Virtually every show, movie or book you point a stick at will have somebody from a privileged background with shitty parents/guardians do something that sets them apart from their background. Virtually every princess archetype is "wah, my parent is so mean by making me get married for the good of the kingdom (my only job). Being rich is terrible."

Like GIRL. "Rich character with sad background" is so overdone!

And Miraculous has got not one, not two, but at least 4 characters who are rich with sad backstories :((( Adrien, Felix, Kagami and Chloe. This isn't even including Lila, Prince Ali, Gabriel or Zoe. And, objectively, none of these characters have any compelling storyline. Kagami I have a soft spot for but objectively, she is also on this list.

None of them are compelling 'richy rich with sob story' characters. Sure, we can pity them, but they're not *compelling*. We're not inspired or moved or awed by them. None of them are original or interesting or unique.

But you're right, anon. They feel like a slap in the face. It's like, its almost like the creators are romanticising the working class. "Oh being rich is so hard, I wish I was like the normal people who work every single day and are so happy because money can't buy happiness."

it's really, really tone deaf, and honestly? Annoying. Like, at least if you're gonna make a rich kid with a sob story at least make them unique or compelling, like Batman or Zuko or Toph.

#Asks #Anonymous #Ml salt #Ml fandom salt #Ml creators salt #ml writers salt #adrien salt #ml salt #Like what's the post thomas made where he claims to have made more unique superpowers than any other creator?#Yeah that but it's just him rehashing rich kid archetypes #Long post

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skyeknight-oneshots · 10 months

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Not so shitty

As a thank you, because I got a lot of kudos on the first day of posting the oneshot "So, not Nemesis" in Ao3 I decided to add a follow up. Enjoy!

Nimona had gone into the city with money from Ballister so they could buy the expansion for the game tonight. It would be a good way to celebrate her return. Ballister wanted to come along, because it would be her first time going into the city after everything's that happened, but Nimona told him she'd be fine and 'you'll only cramp my style, boss.'

"Even though I was against it, I have to give it to the kid." Ballister chuckled, "She really got you good."

Ambrosius made a look, "Isn't she technically... Centuries older than us?"

"Nuance." Ballister shrugged, as he checked on whatever was in stock and what he could cook from it. "As if I'd really break up with you, right?"

When Ambrosius didn't respond to that, or even make a reaction, Ballister stopped looking through the cupboards in favor of looking at him. He can see how his lover looked listless.

"Well, after everything that's happened... Bal, I chopped off your arm!"

Ballister grimaced, walking towards him. "Hey, we talked about that." he reached for the blond's hand, "and you even apologized."

"So what if I apologized? Bal, we're talking about your arm!" Ambrosius' face contorted, the memory of the moment still fresh no matter how long ago it's been. "It's not a love language!"

Ballister rubbed the back of his neck, "Funny... Nimona said the same thing." he said. "Guess you guys have some things in common."

"This isn't funny, Bal! Apologizing... It's not enough. It's like... You apologizing for killing Queen Valerin!"

Ballister expression darkened. The moment will forever scar him; he loved the Queen like a mother he never had. "I didn't..."

"Exactly! You didn't even kill here, but I believe you did!" Ambrosius held his head, still trying to keep things together. He didn't notice when Ballister reached out to stop him from pulling the blond locks. "You're the man I loved forever, and I... Why didn't I question it more? Why didn't I hear you out? Give you a chance to speak... Why didn't I..." Deflating, he dropped to his knees. "Why didn't I believe you?"

Ballister sighed, crouching down and leaning his forehead against the other's. He allowed the silence to envelop them for a moment, before speaking once more. "You could be right, maybe... Maybe an apology can never be enough." he felt Ambrosius flinch at that. "But... Love could be."

At that, Ambrosius lifted his head and stared at Ballister with shining eyes.

"I love you, Ambrosius Goldenloin. Even after everything... I wanted to clear my name, to prove I didn't do it and part of it is because I wanted to return to your side as soon as possible..." Ballister held his lover's hands between both of his, "I'll admit, I did feel angry and betrayed when you didn't believe me and even pointed a sword at me."

Ambrosius flinched once more, and Ballister regretted saying it. But he figured it would be best to just get it out there, otherwise it would just have to come up again.

"But looking back, I thought... You were dealing with a lot, too. You know, having to arrest, the mind games the Director played... Everything hurt at the time but if I had to choose between staying angry because of it all or loving you... Well, loving you is easier."

"I, I love you, too Bal..."

Ambrosius couldn't hold it in anymore, and he let himself go. The tears flowed, and Ballister held him.

"Are you two gonna fuck?"

Ballister and Ambrosius cried out, pulling away from each other and finding a talking Shark sitting between them. Can sharks even sit? Well, Nimona somehow managed it.

"What? I'm technically old enough to see it."

Ballister narrowed his eyes, cheeks still red, and pointed at her sternly. "That's not the issue here and you know it."

"Sure, boss."

"How, uh, how much of this have you heard?"

"You mean from when I was a shark, or a little earlier from when I was a ferret?" Nimona morphed to a ferret as she asked the question, "Damn boss, you should've warned me about my fan club. I almost forgot the board game on my way back just trying to escape. Appreciate the love and all, but kinda overwhelming."

Ambrosius held up, after swiftly wiping at his eyes with an arm. "Wait, back up to that ferret bit... When was that?"

"Like... At the funny part? Or more like the 'no, that's not funny' part." Nimona shrugged.

Ambrosius groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Ballister crossed his arms, looking at Nimona. "We need to talk about you and eavesdropping."

"Yeesh, okay, I guess that's sorta my bad, boss." Nimona looked at Ambrosius and Ballister was caught off guard when she punched his shoulder... in a friendly manner. "But hey, it's okay bro. Like... Yeah, you were pretty shitty to us at the time."

Both Ballister and Ambrosius stared at her, a matching expression of eyes being narrowed.

"Let me get to the point!" Nimona groaned, rolling her eyes, even turning into an owl to thoroughly emphasis the point. "Still, before I did my phoenix disappearing act... I saw you, and... You were helping an unconscious dude get to safety. So I thought, hey, maybe you aren't the shittiest shit there is."

Ambrosius continued staring at her, "That's... Sweet?"

"I know, it's a talent."

"Among other things, I'm sure." The blond deadpanned.

Ballister shook his head, smiling fondly at the two of his favorite people in the world now. "Like I said before, you'll get used to it."

#Nimona #Goldenheart #Ballister Boldheart #Ambrosius Goldenloin #lmao i was suppose to write another story of Goldenheart

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drabbles-mc · 1 year

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Hi! Hope your day is going well! For the ask game could you do a perspective flip for « Better than him » Please? That’s my favorite fic of yours💕

You're so sweet! I most definitely can! I'm not gonna do a flip for the whole fic because that was a long fic and it was a beast to write even though I thoroughly enjoyed it hahaha. But here are a couple scenes from it from Angel's POV from Better Than Him! (you can find the ask game Here)

Coming back to add an extra comment after writing the perspective flip: Just want to say that I really fucking LOVED writing his POV on this. A little humor, a little angst. I just. Yes. This was fun lmao.

With everything that was happening around him in the clubhouse, Angel was surprised that he even felt his phone going off inside the pocket of his kutte. Beer in one hand, he used the other to fish it out, almost rejecting the call out of instinct until he saw that it was your name on the screen. He caught himself smiling, a strange kind of hopeful as he answered.

"You change your mind about the party?" he asked, pinning the phone as close as he could to his ear to try and muffle the background noise around him.

Your reply was short, mumbled, not nearly matching the emotion he'd answered with as you said, "No."

The disappointment in your voice threw him off. He tried to pull answers out of you, somewhat successful in his attempts, as he tossed his beer bottle back onto the bar and made his way towards the door of the clubhouse. As soon as he opened the door, everything already felt quieter, your soft voice already seeming louder in his ear. He was glad that you couldn't see the look on his face as he listened to you talk about the fact that your boyfriend had bailed on another date night. He rolled his eyes, shook his head at you. Mostly, though, he was glad that you couldn't see the frown on his face.

"I don't wanna hear it," you said, trying your best to sound annoyed but he wasn't buying it.

Your tone got a smirk out of him, another expression he was glad that you couldn't see. "What do you wanna hear then, hm?" he goaded, a little braver and more flirtatious than he had any right to be with you.

When you asked if he wanted to come over, of course his knee-jerk reaction was to say yes. He didn't want to give in without a little bit of a fight, though, didn't want to seem too eager. He knew that it was bad enough that he was so excited at the prospect of it in the first place, so ready and willing to say yes.

~*~

Nothing about his entire evening with you had gone the way that he thought it would. Over and over again he found himself in moments that he knew should've made him backpedal. But it felt too late to do that now, with his hands up underneath your skirt, with his heart pounding rapidly against the confines of his ribcage.

Part of him was still waiting for it to be a cruel trick on your part, a gotcha moment, something to ensure that you weren't going to suffer alone in your disappointment of the evening. The farther his hands traveled, the more he found himself waiting for you to stop him, to push him away, to go to bat for your shitty boyfriend who should've been the one in Angel's position, with his fingertips running over the lace of your underwear. But you didn't say anything. You just watched him, the slightly dazed look already on your face making Angel feel like his skin was coated in flames.

Each time he asked to make sure, he was waiting for you to rescind the offer. What was happening now between the two of you felt like something out of his own playbook, not yours. He didn't want to ruin it for himself but he couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that you were letting this happen, that you wanted this to happen.

But then he heard you moan, the sound better than any time he'd try to imagine it, and he knew that he wasn't going to cost himself what might be his only chance to feel you, taste you, have you, outside the confines of his own imagination.

~*~

When it was all said and done, and Angel was getting himself redressed, he found himself caught somewhere between relieved and anxious. All the times he'd thought about you, about having you the way he did, and he finally got you. It was better than he could've ever dreamt of on his own. But there was still a nagging sensation in the back of his mind because he knew that this whole situation was either going to end up being disappointing for him, or extremely fucking messy.

He could see the apprehension on your face when he asked you about it, and he tried not to let himself feel too disappointed, or show it at all. He knew that this was a possibility. He was no stranger to the rejection, to the feeling of being used. He just didn't like the idea of you being the one using him.

"So, what," you said, and he could feel you studying his expression, "you think I should just leave him and be with you?"

What he wanted to say was, "Fucking obviously," but he knew that wouldn't do him any good. Instead, he said, "I didn’t say that. I mean, you should," he laughed, "but I didn’t say that. Him being a waste of your time has nothing to do with me."

"Really? This feels like it has a lot to do with you."

"Yea, 'cause I was inside you like two fuckin' minutes ago." He paused, hiding how deeply he was trying to think of the right things to say with getting himself dressed and situated. "You gotta make that choice. I'll be here no matter what you end up doing, but this is your mess to figure out."

He meant it, too. If this ended up just being something that you needed, a distraction, something to make yourself feel better, he'd take that on the chin and keep going. He cared about you enough to stick around after the fact, even if you didn't care about him the same way. He didn't want to spell it all out for you like that, though. That felt too much like pressure for both of you. He wanted you. Of course he wanted you. But if he couldn't have you, he'd learn to keep living with that.

"Why'd you come over then?" Your question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I like you." The answer came out so second-nature, a weight to it that he hadn't meant to apply when he said, "You knew that, though."

He saw the shift on your face, almost wanted to take it back. Maybe he'd made it too real, pushed things just a bit too far. Too fucking sentimental for the circumstances the two of you were in.

"I know," you replied, the softness in your voice putting a twinge in his chest.

He changed the subject, lightening the mood the way he always did when he got himself in too deep with something. By the time he was walking out the door, it seemed like you were just saying goodbye after a normal evening of hanging out. He wondered if you were just a really good actor, or if his version of a worst-case scenario was actually coming to fruition. He stuffed down those feelings, leaving you with a smile and a kiss on the forehead rather than all of the things that he really wanted to say, really wanted to give you.

He lingered outside your closed door for a moment, thinking back on everything that had happened. His heart was still working double-time in his chest. Shaking his head at himself, he tried to remember to enjoy what he'd had with you while he had it. If he was lucky, or just really fucking reckless, maybe he'd get to have it with you again.

#ask #asks #mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc fanfic #angel reyes #angel reyes x you #angel reyes x reader #perspective flip #my writing #drabblesmc #anonymous

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lostcybertronian · 7 months

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Egotober - Day 3

Prompt: Drink

Prompts by @tracobuttons

---

The shitty little dive bar you frequented most nights after work was not its usual quiet and calm, with whatever sportsball game splattered across its ancient televisions occupying its regulars who sat, nursing beers, as if in a stunned haze.

Tonight, the tiny parking lot was crammed with motorcycles and old, rusted-out pick-up trucks. A type if you’d ever seen one, comprised of good ole’ boys with shirts pulled tight over a heaving beer gut and bearded bikers with stressed leather jackets and too many patches.

As you expected, good ole’ boys and bikers were exactly what you found as you stepped in through the creaking door, into a fog of cigarette smoke and raucous noise.

At least your spot at the bar was clear. You inched your way through the crowd and claimed it with a heavy sigh and a cough from the overwhelming smoke. You signaled the bartender for your usual, and waited for him to finish the half-dozen others.

“Mind if I join you?” A man planted himself on the empty stool to your right, slapping a leather-bound journal to the weathered wood.

You nodded absentminded assent, intending to go on staring at the blurry screen above the racks of alcohol, but your attention dragged toward him like a magnet to true north. The first thing you noticed was that he was ruggedly handsome, lean but muscular and smelling of pine and, strangely enough, ink. His hair was cropped short and spiked like a Mohawk, and his dark— almost black— eyes were fixed on you with an almost unsettling intensity.

“I’m Arthur.” That’s what you heard, anyway. “And you?”

You pondered this for a moment, but ultimately came up blank. “You want my name?”

He lowered his voice, leaned in close like they were partners in a crime. “Don’t you know your own name?”

It occurred to you that you should be alarmed– what was your name?-- but something about this stranger made it seem trivial. It didn’t really matter at all, did it?

Still, you hesitated before answering. “I guess not.”

“No matter.” Arthur signaled the bartender, who had yet to bring over your drink, and flipped his notebook open. Producing a pen from nowhere, he scribbled down a few words in a script you couldn’t understand. “Buy you a drink?”

“Um-” before you could respond, the bartender clunked two foaming mugs of Bud Light to the bar, offering a gruff nod to Arthur before returning to his work. “Sure,” you managed, reaching for the mug and taking a deep swig. Bitter, yeasty amber burned your throat. Not your favorite, but tolerable. The clamor of the bar seemed to sway, rising and falling around you like the tide.

You blinked. Arthur watched you do this, one hand bracing his chin and his dark eyes glittering like you were the most interesting thing in the world. “Is there-” you hiccuped- “something in this drink?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur returned to his journal. Wrote something down. You blinked again, dizziness and haze overtaking your senses. “Is there?”

“I think-” You felt your head dip to the bar. The cool wood was soothing. “I think-”

“I think there is.” Arthur finished, a smile to his voice.

#egotober2023 #author x reader #the author #markiplier egos #writersofmark #fanfiction #lostandwandering #lost writing tag #horror

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ymaohoh · 3 months

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Chrissy Ran Away - 3/3 - Fic

Chapter 3: On the wharf, I was caught in a tailspin

Eddie wasn’t being so friendly to her now. He’d barely spoken to her since she turned up covered in mud and leaves with a fucked up knee. He seemed to be doing his best to avoid her completely. What if Chrissy ran from Eddie after her vision? What if it pushed them apart? They share a joint and it gets much much worse. My take on 'Chrissy lives'.

Word Count: 10,188 (Oh god, I'm sorry)

Chapter: 3/3

Warning: some non-con touching about halfway through.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

Previous Chapter 1/3 here.

Previous Chapter 2/3 here.

(see end for notes)

------

Chrissy knew she was pretty. Knew she had a nice symmetrical face (according to a magazine quiz it was a ’heart-shape’) and people always remarked on her smile. Ever since middle school people had taken it upon themselves to comment on her looks as if she should be eternally grateful for their compliments and praise. She always pictured her mom’s screwed up face when she heard the word ugly - always saw the sewing machine she would bring out when she thought Chrissy looked heavy. The way she uttered the word ugly made it sound like the most awful thing that could ever happen. Forget about disease or poverty or mental illness. No no, being considered ugly was a sin in the Cunningham homestead.

So Chrissy knew her appearance meant a lot. It held weight. It was the only real source of currency she owned and could trade off (you know - apart from actual currency). She had learned by the tender age of twelve (when her body started changing in funny new embarrassing ways) the impact her looks had on others and that other people felt good and treated her nice when she smiled and giggled and tried.

Her mom would repeat over and over that appearance was everything. It didn’t matter how shitty you felt inside as long as you kept it to yourself. Chrissy’s mom was not a brilliant example of a good mom. Chrissy knew this. Her counsellor Ms Kelley knew this. Her father probably knew this though he would never lift a finger to help. Chrissy worried about turning into her mom one day but maybe the real worry was taking after her dad instead. Turning the cheek and ignoring what was right in front of you to keep up the facade of normal. Her parent’s greatest fear was to be abnormal and (God forbid) it tarnish their carefully curated reputation of a perfect upper-middle class wholesome family. Reagan’s wet dream, honestly.

So even though Chrissy woke up the next morning feeling embarrassed and broken and totally called out, she could at least try not to look it.

It was like when Jason asked about her headaches (which was weird in itself as he rarely noticed little things like that) and her automatic response had been to give him a pretty smile and lie and say they were probably due to her ‘monthly troubles’ instead. Jason had chuckled at that and rolled his eyes, appropriately (because society said it was okay) abashed. “Well take it easy, babe,” he’d said, pressing a distracted kiss to her cheek, his thoughts already turning to the big championship game coming up. “Have some candy or something.”

Because that’s what boyfriends did when you were unwell right? They’d buy flowers or chocolates or teddy bears with creepy stitched up mouths.

Chrissy hadn’t really thought about Jason much over the last few days but instead of feeling guilty or worried she felt sort of…fine? In the films and TV shows she liked to watch, girls in trouble always went to their boyfriends first for comfort, but the idea of calling Jason now was just something she didn’t want to do. Was that unfair? Nancy’s boyfriend Jonathon (who she vaguely remembered from photography class) knew everything that was going on with Vecna and the upside-down world. She even caught the cute little looks Lucas and Max exchanged when they thought no one was watching, and Nancy’s brother Mike Wheeler was linked to this superhero El. They all seemed fine and even bolstered by sharing this madness with one another.

She tried picturing Jason’s face if she told him about Vecna and nearly dying. Would he offer to come here and help Steve build up the defences? Show the freshmen how to shoot straight? Buy her candy? No, he’d probably get more angry at Eddie and the fact she was in his trailer, than her coming so close to having all her bones snapped and her eyes gouged out. He seemed so far removed from all this that she couldn’t fathom him beside her in this world of magic and hellfire.

Eddie’s reproachful words from last night kept ringing in her ears… ‘did you hear what he did to that kid two weeks ago? Their parents had to pick them up’.

She was so ashamed. That poor kid. She was ashamed too that Eddie knew she had no idea about it. Like he assumed Jason would hide it from her and she would just go on with her little (sparkly pink bubble) life. ‘You just don’t know’.

Well she knew now, and she would not be like her father and ignore it. She was resolved to try and make things right at school even if it brought on Jason’s ire. The idea of him picking on Dustin or Mike Wheeler or any of them made her chest feel tight.

Beep beep beep.

Chrissy managed to get maybe two hours of sleep when the alarm on Steve’s watch went off and she groaned at the sudden rude awakening. She pushed her face deeper into the pillow, away from the sunshine beaming in through a blind. She tried to ignore that the pillow smelled like the eucalyptus shampoo Eddie used. There was also the unmistakable smell of cigarettes and weed but instead of being turned off she found it unexpectedly comforting.

She felt Steve roll over and then there was a delicate pause.

“Uh…Hi… Chrissy?”

“Hi Steve,” she mumbled.

“Uh…there a reason you’re here and not Eddie? Not that I’m complaining, just a bit of a surprise first thing in the morning, is all.”

Steve was peering over his pillow at her, bleary eyed and yawning. His hair was sticking up in all different directions and the sleepy hand he ran through it only made it worse. He still seemed half asleep. Chrissy might have giggled if she didn’t feel like total crap.

“Couldn’t sleep so I took over the watch from Robin. Then Eddie came down and…well… he took over. Told me to come up here.”

“Alright.”

“Steve?”

“Mhmm?”

“I heard the ticking noise again last night. Nothing floaty happened, but I thought you should know just in case. I think Nancy’s right. I think…I think it happens when I’m feeling really sad about something.”

“Damn.” She heard him swallow. “So I guess we’ve got to keep you and Max happy then. Happy thoughts an’ all. What got you so down?”

“I…I had a chat with Eddie and we kind of argued. We both said some really shitty things.”

That was putting it mildly.

She sighed and it seemed to reverberate down to her toes. She felt like the mattress might swallow her up whole. She eyed Eddie’s bag in the corner of the bedroom and the Hellfire Club T-shirt he so treasured screwed up beside it. His heavy belt was there too and the chains he clipped to the side of his jeans when he was trying to lean into the scary freaky look.

“I think he hates me now.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel about someone hating her. It was a new. Everyone at school seemed to like her a lot and she never got into arguments or drama. Maybe some of the other cheerleaders were a bit put off when she beat them for the captain spot but they didn’t say anything mean. Her parents didn’t exactly treat her nice but that wasn’t out of hate. They said it was out of love.

Steve’s voice noticeably softened. “Nah. He doesn’t hate you, Chrissy. Far from it. The guy’s just…I don’t know…”

“Hanging on by a thread?”

“Exactly, yeah. He’s got a lot going on in that fucked up head of his…and he was a nutcase before all of this too, you know? We’re all trying our best but…it’s hard. He likes you though. Trust me.”

Steve wouldn’t say that if he’d heard the way Eddie spoke to her last night…or this morning? Ugh. Or the way she spoke back to him. She tried not to linger on the awful expression on his face when she threw the words ‘hypocrite’ and ‘jealous’ at him like sharp darts. She’d meant every word - but she still felt bad. She wasn’t the kind of person to enjoy inflicting pain on others just because she was losing her mind, or punching down on someone who was already sinking.

“We bought coffee, right?” Steve yawned again as he sat up and stretched, wisely changing the subject. “I can’t function without at least two cups in the morning. And Henderson has really been dialling up his attitude recently. The little shit.”

Chrissy sat up too and only then fully appreciated what an awkward situation they were both in. She’d deliberately not slipped under the sheets when she came to bed so they weren’t exactly side by side but it was still weird. She got out from under her borrowed blanket and wobbled to her feet. Christ, her head was reeling from the lack of sleep and food. And weed, probably, even though she barely had half.

“I’m going to shower and I’ll make some. I think I spotted a coffee maker stashed in one of the cupboards.”

Steve hummed happily as Chrissy padded out the room barefoot. They had all agreed to keep the bedroom doors ajar last night so the person on guard duty could do their checks. Chrissy spotted a note tacked on their wood with what looked like gum.

Gone to get milk - E.

The idea of Eddie coming up here while she was asleep and seeing her side by side with Steve made her feel odd, even if he’d been the one to suggest it. Another thought to push way down and ignore.

She jumped in the shower before anyone else was up and washed and scrubbed her body thoroughly (who cared if her skin was pink and sore as a result?). She then scrubbed at her face and brushed her teeth. She applied her make up so well that you would never suspect she’d been awake all night crying over ticking and spiders and Eddie Munson telling her she was a sheep. She tossed her head side to side and smiled when the reflection met her approval. Once finished she towelled herself off and got dressed.

She hadn’t been able to stuff much into her cheer bag but dug out an (admittedly wrinkled) flowery summer dress that would still look okay if she smoothed it down with her fingers. The thin straps showed off her slim shoulders but the skirts hid her knees. She decided to leave her hair down to dry as she hadn’t brought a hairdryer (though Steve probably had an emergency one stashed beside his hairspray). She very rarely wore her hair down because Jason said he preferred in a ponytail or in plaits. It felt different. New. She used her fingers to fluff out her bangs.

Downstairs Dustin and Lucas were already awake and poking around the kitchen cupboards hopefully. Chrissy asked them to start up the coffee machine and found some breakfast stuff. By the time Robin and Steve came downstairs she was whisking pancake batter in one of Rick’s bowls. Robin said Max was still in the shower and Nancy was keeping an ear out.

“You’re an angel, Chrissy,” Robin added gratefully, plonking herself down at the table. Her wet hair was still wrapped up in a towel. “Do we have syrup?”

“No way. Chocolate chips are the way to go,” Dustin corrected, still in his pyjamas. He reminded Chrissy of her little brother when he was still nice and occasionally an ally against their parents.

Chrissy served up the pancakes as they debated the perfect pancake toppings. She never actually ate pancakes herself (far too many calories) but her grandma showed her how to do it when she was little and she could even do the perfect flip (naturally). While the others tucked into their food with thanks, she buttered some toast and nibbled it while leaning against the counter.

She suddenly thought about those creepy lifeless women on the covers of Good Housekeeping. All made up with stiff fake smiles and with hair that looked totally pristine. She probably looked like one of them now.

But no matter how pretty and composed she looked or how attentively she listened to Robin debate the virtues of pancakes versus crepes, Chrissy felt herself tense all over again when she heard the front door open. She turned at once to make herself a cup of coffee even though she hated it black. It would give her an excuse to do something with her hands besides wringing them together like a one dimensional damsel-in-distress character in their Dungeons and Dragons game (though Dustin, Lucas, and Eddie all seemed keen to them).

“Daddy’s back safe and sound, kids, despite the looming threat of annihilation and bogus wizards that make even Saruman the White look like a pansy. Miss me?”

“You get milk?” Steve asked bluntly.

“Yes dear. Got some more snacks too seeing as Lucas’ gone through like three bags of chips already.”

“Thanks man,” Lucas said, relieved.

“I grabbed some gas too if you guys still want to hit up the War Zone?” Eddie added. “There’s plenty of room in the back of the van for guns, grenades, nunchucks…Could probably smuggle in some rocket launchers too.”

“Flame throwers,” Nancy corrected him, walking into the kitchen.

Chrissy didn’t need to look over her shoulder to know everyone was glancing at Nancy with a fair amount of respect (maybe a smidge of fear too).

Hands wearing heavy silver rings placed shopping bags down onto the countertop beside her. A carton of milk appeared by the coffee pot but she ignored it stubbornly as she filled her mug to the brim. It took all her resolve not to shudder when the bitter liquid touched her tongue. Ew.

“Can I grab a cup, ‘Rissy?” Nancy asked.

‘Rissy? She liked that. “Sure, Nance.”

Chrissy turned to see Nancy (followed by a clean and dressed Max) joining the others at the table. Eddie remained standing though as he slowly unpacked food into the cupboards.

Like her, he looked completely composed. He was wearing his usual ripped jeans but instead of a rock shirt he’d pulled on the black and red flannel that usually adorned his waist. Other than that though, the same Eddie; creepy rings that no store in Hawkins would surely sell, guitar pick around the neck, the now-familiar bat tattoo on his elbow (his sweet ol’ tatties, she remembered him saying). The only subtle tells that something may be amiss were the faint purple circles beneath his otherwise warm brown eyes and the fact he needed a shave (but saying that so did Steve).

Eddie was putting away chips and soda and laughing at something Robin said. He even responded with a joke of his own in that flirty tone he seemed so comfortable using. Totally at ease. Totally in control. But it can’t be real, Chrissy thought, not after what he said this morning. He must be running on fumes.

Which meant he had an excellent poker face. It almost rivalled her own. The others would observe them going out for milk, making breakfast, helping. Both of them seemingly fine. Christ, they could be her parents.

Chrissy forced her shoulders to relax and flashed a blinding smile. When she spoke she made sure her voice was peppy and cheerful like she was getting ready for a cheer rally. Looking at her now you’d think she was running for the 1986 Miss America title and not miserable and sad and so fucking tired. Aren’t you proud of me, mom?

“Want some pancakes too, Nance? Max?” she asked. “And you? How do you take your coffee, Munson?”

He almost - almost - cracked at that but caught himself just in time. She was nearly impressed.

“I can make it myself thanks,” he was all he said.

–

They were indeed still going to the War Zone today. It was Nancy’s idea originally after spotting an advert in the paper but Eddie seemed to know about it too. It was about a two hour drive away and sounded like a Republican paradise. It would definitely have all the weapons and tools they needed until El and the others got there and they could regroup. Steve offered to drive but Eddie shut him down real quick. Only he drove his van, he explained. It wouldn’t run for anyone else.

“Some of us should stay to guard this place,” Robin pointed out. “I don’t mind. I’m still sleepy from last night.”

Max and Lucas were quick to bow out too. Nancy was going to stay as well as she wanted to phone Jonathon again and check on his progress. Chrissy noticed her fingers twitching when she said this but didn’t make a deal of it. Nancy rarely spoke about Jonathon so maybe there was something not quite right there (though who was she to talk? Jason who?). She felt herself getting closer to Nancy every day but she still wasn’t sure they were in the boy-chat territory. Guns? End of the world? Sure. Heartbreak though? She felt herself growing closer to Robin too but there was something…different…about Robin she couldn’t quite place. It was like she belonged in a different era - one in the future maybe where they used flying cars and everyone was cool like her. She’d assumed at first she was Steve’s girlfriend but after only a millisecond it became abundantly clear they were just best of friends.

Maybe one day after saving the world (they could do it) she and Nancy and Robin could crack out some wine coolers and discuss all the wonderful highs and tragic lows of being a teenage girl. Maybe even Max could join in. She’d like that a lot.

So it was Eddie, Dustin, and Steve who got ready for the War Zone and then to everyone’s surprise Chrissy said she wanted to go too. She hurriedly retrieved her purse and opened it wide so they could see the large amount of cash wedged inside.

“Woah!”

“Did you rob a bank?” Max said, eyeing her curiously, and Chrissy laughed.

“It’s just my savings and what I could find in my dad’s office. Don’t worry, he’ll never notice it missing. He’s always leaving cash around the house. I brought some of my gold jewellery too in case we need to pawn it…though someone will have to help me. I’m not exactly sure how to pawn things,” she admitted. The words sounded unbelievably odd on her tongue. “I never wear any of it so I don’t mind. I only wear this one…” She gently flicked a nail against the ‘86’ at her neck.

“We can’t accept your savings, Chrissy! You’ll need it for college, right?” Nancy pointed out.

“Don’t worry, I have a separate college fund which is under lock and key. My dad won’t let me touch it until after I graduate. It’s his guarantee that…well, that I don’t drop out and do something to embarrass the family,” she said. “Please. I know you guys have all chipped in here and there and I wanna help too. Use this money to buy the…weapons…and food and things.”

“That’s really generous honestly but really we can manage if we stretch our money together. I think we’ll be okay if we’re careful.”

“But I don’t want you guys to be just okay. You’re so brave by doing all this - the least I can do is make sure money isn’t an issue, you know? This is something I can actually contribute to the group. Please just use it.”

She looked imploringly at Steve then. Steve came from a similar background to her own and must surely get it. Chrissy didn’t need this money and likely never would whereas she knew some of the others came from humble backgrounds and it just wasn’t fair. She found speaking about all of this uncomfortable - Jason and her other friends were just as privileged as her and her mom would rather die than discuss something as tacky as money - but Chrissy held fast because this gesture would alleviate some of the pressure from the others. It was her way of pulling her weight.

“And…” she added brightly, smiling. “It would really annoy my mom if she ever knew and that thought makes me seriously happy. That’s got to be worth it, right?”

Steve laughed and she knew she’d won. “Alright, thanks Chriss. We’ll use the money today. Keep your jewellery though…we’ll only pawn that as a last resort, kay?”

Chrissy thought she saw a flash of relief cross both Steve and Nancy’s faces (they must have been worrying about this too) before they turned away and that made up for any embarrassment.

Thankfully Dustin called shotgun in the van and the conversation shifted to a debate about what radio station to listen to. Chrissy collected her things - she borrowed a pair of Rick’s aviator sunglasses too as it was sunny (she hoped he wouldn’t mind) - and made to follow the others outside.

But a touch to her elbow made her hesitate and Max was there looking awkward. “…I know we haven’t really spoken much before but I just wanted to say… that you do contribute to the group. Maybe you don’t feel that way, but it’s…nice…having you here.” Every nice word seemed to pain her but she held herself steady. She had a kind of intensity in her eyes which would surely make grown men tremble.

She could be a governor or a DA, Chrissy thought, speechless. She finally choked out, “Thanks for saying that Max.”

“Yeah whatever. Bring me back some peanut butter, ok? Smooth. I like that best on my pancakes.”

Evidently dismissed, Chrissy jumped up onto the passenger seat beside Steve and Eddie started the engine. Eddie was the one to pick the music (“my van - my rules, Henderson”) and fiddled with the radio until some loud rock blasted out from the speakers. A few minutes later they were driving along the lake towards town.

End of passion play, crumbling away

I'm your source of self-destruction

Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear

Leading on your death's construction

Chrissy folded down the skirt of her summer dress so it lay neat against her thigh and settled back on the leather seat, doing her very best not to look ahead at the driver. She tried to ignore Dustin babbling about making improvised weapons, or Steve complaining about the volume, or the thought of a certain pair of eyes watching her in the mirror. Instead she slipped on the too-big sunglasses, pulled out a shitty Capitalist magazine from her bag, and unfurled it resolutely. She would read it word to word like it was a textbook for class. No matter what anyone else thought.

“Woah, what happened to your hand?” Dustin was saying. That did draw her attention.

“Girls dig bruised knuckles, man, what can I say? They love that dangerous vigilante look. I caught it in the van door earlier, Henderson, I’m alright. It’s no biggie.”

Did she imagine it or did Steve glance her way? She looked back at her magazine pointedly.

Taste me, you will see

More is all you need

Dedicated to

How I'm killing you

“This music is killing me,” Steve grumbled.

“It’s not so bad.” It wasn’t Chrissy’s style of music either but she liked the lyrics. “I think the band’s called metal something.”

“Metallica,” Eddie corrected without looking round.

She thought about the other time she’d taken a ride in Eddie’s van before her vision of Vecna. She’d met him in the car park after the championship game (ears still ringing from the cheers) so he could drive her back to his trailer for something stronger. He’d surprised her by holding the passenger door open like a gentleman from those old black and white movies. He’d even offered to let her pick the music though now it was his van, his rules. She’d been too nervous to suggest anything though. She remembered that whole journey being very very aware of just how bare her legs looked in her short cheerleading skirt.

It was getting hot so she tried unrolling the window but the handle seemed to be busted. Eddie must have noticed because his window was suddenly down and a burst of cool air snaked around her shoulders and made her sigh.

The War Zone was exactly as Nancy and Eddie described. Everything was made from lumber and it smelled strongly of polish and pine and oil. Testosterone in a bottle. There were rows and rows of clothing displays - hunting jackets, cargo pants, heavy work boots - as well as all the hunting and fishing equipment you could ever need. Behind the (again wooden) counters the guns and knives were locked away side by side in glass cabinets, and she thought they looked intimidating and scary.

They let Steve take the lead inside. He seemed in his element and casually reeled off all the things they would need. He asked her and Dustin to go pick out some of the heavy duty coats and boots so Chrissy found herself ambling down the aisles with a heavily laden basket. She picked out a few things she thought might be helpful. She almost kissed Dustin on the cheek when he spotted a padded jacket he thought she might like (“There’s no pink, but it’s got little dots like your dress?”). It was so unbelievably cute that she thanked him and put it straight into the basket. They actually started having some fun picking bits out together (Dustin was going full Rambo with his own choices) - and inevitably their laughter started to draw stares.

Not at Dustin though. At her.

There were a few men openly staring at her now and she tried to ignore it like she always did when she drew unwanted attention. “Thank the heavens for that summer dress,” a man nearby drawled. He looked about the same age as her father. Maybe even older. “What’s a sweet girl like you doing here?”

She could hear Robin’s voice in her mind saying ‘buying a deadly weapon, dipshit, what’s it look like?’

Chrissy remained silent though. She knew that if she responded it would encourage them. It was a lesson that had been drummed into her ever since middle school. Don’t respond. Don’t be a tease. Don’t lead them on. Another voice behind her piped up. “Want a date, honey? Ditch the kid and come back to my van, eh? We can have ourselves a little party.”

Dustin looked angry but was clearly out of his element and unsure how to best handle this sort of thing. “Let’s go back to Steve and Eddie, Chrissy. We’ve got enough stuff,” he said instead. His trust in the older guys seemed unshakeable.

“Sure thing, Dustin. Everything’s cool, okay? Just ignore them.”

They walked back over to the counter and waited. Steve was signing some paperwork and had four guns lined up on the counter in front of them. Chrissy stood as close to Steve’s side as she could and hoped that maybe those men would assume he was her boyfriend and leave her alone. They certainly looked like they could be a couple with their preppy clothes and looks.

She saw Dustin whispering something into Eddie’s ear just as someone said loudly, “Want to come hold my gun, babe? I’ll let you polish it. Might even go off.” His friends seemed to think this was real funny because they began cracking up.

Steve and Eddie heard that. She felt herself blush. “Sorry about this. Don’t worry, they’ll wind down in a little bit. Let’s just finish up and go…”

“You can polish both our guns at the same time!”

“Shit,” Steve muttered. He was flushed too and she felt awful. “Sorry, Chriss. Just paying now. Won’t be long…Hey, can we speed this up please?”

She pressed closer to his side. Chrissy had this trick during times like this where she would try and physically make herself very small as a way of trying to hide. Her shoulders were already turning inwards and she crossed her arms over her chest. She tried to focus on what Steve was saying to the cashier but it was drowned out by a roaring noise in her ears. She wished Dustin would stop whispering to Eddie. She wished they would stop looking at her.

But then someone brushed up close against her back. She felt a lingering hand on her hip. Her ass. She couldn’t stop herself from squeezing her eyes shut and grimacing.

Here would be the part where someone should step in or where Chrissy finally told this jerk to get the fuck away from her (maybe even a tall body shielding her with his own, a gentle hand guiding her away) but this was 80’s Indiana and that shit didn’t happen just yet. The ideas of what to do when your customer or friend was being fucking manhandled in public just weren’t invented yet - and she could see her friends were pissed off but they hung back because they didn’t have the fucking right to get involved, you know? They weren’t her boyfriends or father or brother, they weren’t her. If she asked them to punch this guy's lights out they would in a heartbeat (and Eddie and Steve looked like they were gunning for it) but she didn’t. Chrissy just clenched her jaw and took it.

They paid and left, and as soon as she slid onto the backseat she pushed on Rick’s sunglasses and stared out the window. She could feel the guys glancing at her (worried, angry, guilty) but they were following her lead and giving her some space. They made it a few miles before Steve reached out and turned the heavy rock music back on.

“Did that asshole hurt you, Chrissy?” Dustin said at last and because it was Dustin she answered honestly.

“No. He just touched my leg and my…” She shuddered at the memory and seemed to shrink even further back into the seat. “I’m sorry you had to see it. I swear I didn’t say a word to any of them or smile or even look at them. I didn’t…”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

She could have told him about the lecture she got at church when one of the pastors touched her leg because she wore a dress that was one inch too short, but Dustin didn’t need to know about any of that crap. He was just a kid. “I should have just stayed in the car,” she sighed.

“It’s just not…fair. You can’t just not exist, you know? I don’t know…it’s messed up.”

“Yeah, it is.”

He paused for such a long time that Chrissy thought he was done, but then he turned around properly and peered through the seats at her. “Chrissy? I’m sorry I didn’t…you know, defend you when that first creep said something. I didn’t know what to do and kind of freaked. Next time I’ll be better, though, I promise. I’ll look after you.”

So this time Chrissy did lean forwards and press a kiss to his cheek. Dustin turned an alarming shade of red but he smiled. “You were perfect, Dustin. I promise. Never change, little guy, okay?”

She felt tears spring to her eyes so once again turned her head to the window.

She didn’t notice Eddie pat Dustin on the shoulder. Or Steve messing up his hair.

When they got back to Rick’s it was way past lunchtime but Nancy had left them some cheese sandwiches in the fridge. Chrissy took hers outside to eat in the back garden, along with a book she borrowed from Dustin. “Keep the door open though, yeah?” Steve had called. She promised she would.

She dragged one of the wooden chairs from the circle towards the dock in what she considered was a perfect spot by the lake edge. Here she would be able to enjoy the last of the day’s sunshine and hear the gentle flow of the river in peace. She’d even borrowed one of Rick’s floppy fishing hats so the sun wouldn’t burn her nose again (poor Rick - she might as well try on his boots next). She’d thought about sitting in this spot last night - this morning - when she was out here sharing that joint with Eddie and thought it would be such a sweet place to relax and unwind. It was so quiet here.

It was quiet back in the house too. Nancy and Robin were spending the afternoon researching the Creel family in the library archives and had taken Steve’s car. The others seemed happy enough to admire their new cache of weapons and gear and Steve was trying to get the TV to work so he could watch a sports game.

There wasn’t much for Chrissy to do this afternoon except to stay quiet and not draw any more trouble.

She could still feel those prickling eyes on her face and body and hear those vile comments at the War Zone. The laughter. They’d found it funny to make her uncomfortable and humiliate her. Like it was a game. And why hadn’t she spoken up? Why not answer like Robin or Max or Nancy might have? No, she’d just tried to ignore it and wait it out like a storm. Hadn’t she already made the decision not to end up like her parents? To challenge Jason? To stand up, to say something, to shout and make some fucking noise. She was off to a crap start.

Christ, she was so weak. She couldn’t even go to a store with her friends without stirring up some kind of mess. She thought about Dustin’s helplessness when it first started to happen and Steve’s sympathetic (pitying, her dad’s voice corrected) smiles in the car after. She’d upset Eddie again. She should have just stayed in the damn car.

She couldn’t focus on the book in her hands or even the sunshine. Everything suddenly felt so cold and dark. She hurled her sandwich into the lake.

She made a noise that sounded like a whimper. Fuck fuck fuck.

And just as she fell to her lowest - it happened.

It started with a dark shape emerging beneath the surface of the lake. It was big - maybe the same size as a person - and way too big to be an eel or a fish. Maybe it was a body? Chrissy was suddenly standing and she peered over the edge and saw it was starting to move towards her. She stepped back (not noticing that the chair was no longer behind her). She began rubbing her eyes. She’d heard about people cracking up from stress and exhaustion. Maybe it was finally her time?

But then the ticking started and it filled her belly with an icy cold horror. Tick. Tick. Tick.

She suddenly knew that whatever that thing in the water was, it was not something good and it was going to hurt her. She did not want that thing to come any closer!

But it did. The top of its head broke the surface and she saw grey slimy flesh…

“No…” she moaned. “You’re not real. This isn’t real.”

Like a nightmare, Vecna’s face emerged inch by inch as he drew closer. His black lifeless eyes were staring at her and when she flinched back, he smiled. His teeth (black and sharp like fangs) twisted into a terrifying grin. “Chrissy…” he seemed to sing her name like it was a verse or a melody. “It’s time Chrissy.”

Chrissy shook her head as she took another step away from the water’s edge. She turned to run back to the house (to her friends and safety) but it was no longer daytime. Dark smoke caged her senses and the grass beneath her bare feet turned now to ash and soot. The smoke flooded her nose and mouth and she gagged on it. The sickening taste of death clawed at her throat making her eyes water.

“You’ve been so clever trying to run away from me, Chrissy, but you knew I’d come back to claim you. You always knew, didn’t you? In the back of your mind. You knew that we needed each other. Poor Chrissy. You’re so tired, aren’t you? So exhausted. Let me help you…”

She couldn’t see the house or the dock or anything. Everything was so dark.

“You don’t want to help me,” she cried. “You want to murder me.”

“No. I want to help you become something bigger than yourself. Something incredible and exciting. Chrissy…come to me. You’re so good at doing exactly what you’re told. Come to me now.”

He was rising out of the water and then - as sudden as a blink - he was standing before her, tall and threatening. She stumbled back against something hard and knew she could not run away. She felt her legs buckle beneath her and she fell to her knees.

She was crying. She was terrified. “I don’t want to die. Please. I don’t want to die.”

“Can you really call your miserable little existence living?” he asked cruelly. He bowed and curled one of his long fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look up at him. “You who are utterly without love. Not even for yourself. It is kinder to put you out of this misery, Chrissy. Believe me, you know that there’s nothing in this world for you. It won’t make the slightest bit of difference if you are alive or dead.”

His words seemed to pierce her heart like ice. Was he right?

“You have a weapon - a gun - hidden upstairs. You’ve kept it so secret and safe but why do you have it, really? You and I both know why. You know that there will come a day when you finally snap and you want it all to end..”

“Oh god…”

She couldn’t look away from his piercing eyes. He was cradling her face now and scratched his claws down her cheeks, tearing at her flesh. She felt no pain though. She was completely in his thrall.

“Come with me….”

“I…”

Chrissy!

Someone was screaming her name, but no that was impossible. It was just her and Vecna and Vecna was going to murder her.

But then there was music. Such loud ringing music that it seemed to shake the foundations of the world around her and flood it with a bright gold light. Its sparks gathered by the red vines twisted around her limbs (when had that happened) and seemed to rip them away.

We are young

Heartache to heartache

We stand

No promises, no demands

Love is a battlefield

She remembered the first time she heard this song. One of her friends played it during cheer drills and they laughed themselves silly dancing along to it. She’d bought a tape herself and listened to it secretly at home using her headphones.

We are strong

No one can tell us we're wrong

Searching our hearts for so long

And then she saw a swirling white light just behind Vecna. At the edge of the lake. Just like when Eddie saved her last time.

Chrissy! That was Eddie’s voice calling her name. That sounded better than any cheering crowd, any morning birdsong, any fucking power ballad.

She knew what she needed to do if she wanted to fight this but she didn’t know if she had the strength. Then she thought about Max telling her she belonged in the group. She thought about Nancy who was brilliant and badass and kept guns under her bed, and Lucas who was an athlete but also a total nerd. She thought about Steve who was a fucking hero and Robin who might be a timetraveller and who she wanted drink wine coolers with. She thought about Dustin who promised he’d fight for her even when he was scared. She thought about Eddie and the way he made her laugh in the woods and how he was hanging on by a fucking thread now because of Vecna. She owed it to Eddie to fight this.

Vecna suddenly became those rednecks back at the War Zone with their creepy entitled eyes. He became her mom. Her dad. He became Jason and the way he and the team bullied the freshmen kids. He was a fucking asshole.

She got to her feet with a whimper.

Both of us knowing

Love is a battlefield

Chrissy!

“LEAVE ME ALONE!”

She screamed and kicked Vecna right in the chest. All those years of cheerleading drills had made the muscles in her legs strong and the strength of that kick was just enough to surprise Vecna and give her a split second advantage. She ran towards the white light.

She jumped.

–

And then she was underwater. She was being pulled down to the bottom of the lake and her lungs were empty and she was screaming but she had no voice.

She couldn’t believe that this might be the end after all. Not when she’d jumped into that bright white light wanting to live and come home.

But then hands were grasping hold of her and pulling her away from the darkness and up towards the surface. More hands dragged her out of the water and she sank, shivering and cold, onto the grass of the riverbank. She felt warm lips against her mouth and then she was choking and then she tasted gloriously sweet air. She gulped it down greedily and let it fill her lungs. The world seemed to clear and settle around her.

It took a moment for her senses to catch up but when they finally did she could feel everything. She could hear someone crying and people shouting in hurried frantic voices. She could feel the way her lungs ached as her chest rose and fell. She could smell the coppery tang of blood.

Her dress was clinging to her body like a second skin and she felt so achingly cold but she was alive. That was all that mattered.

She opened her eyes and Eddie’s face was all she saw. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands still gripping her wrists, and he had tears running down his cheeks. He was soaking wet too. Chrissy raised a thumb and wiped at his cheek gently.

“Are you here, Chrissy?” he was asking over and over. “Are you back with me?”

“I’m here. Eddie, I’m here.”

He crushed her to his chest and she let him. Burying her face into the crook of his neck, she let her own tears come and she wept and wept. She let out every single tear and drop of fear into Eddie’s strong shoulder. His arms were tight around her back but she wanted the weight. It made her feel held.

She might have cried for hours (it wouldn’t have mattered).

“Eddie? I need to look at her cheeks, man.”

Her cheek? She felt Eddie release her slowly and then Steve (also wet and shivering) was there inspecting her face. He was trying hard to keep calm so he could focus on whatever it was he was doing, but when she caught his eye he broke into a proud grin. “Hi Chrissy. Welcome back to Earth.”

“I can smell blood. Is it mine?” It was easier to breathe now. The smoke and ash and water were no longer in her lungs and throat.

“You were floating in the air above the water,” it was Max speaking now. Chrissy’s gaze came to rest over Eddie’s shoulder and she saw Max and Lucas watching her closely. Max’s face was as white as a ghost. Dustin was kneeling at their side beaming though. All of these wonderful human beings who she had heard in her vision. Who brought her back. “And then your cheeks just slashed open. Like you were scratched either side by invisible claws. Was it Vecna?”

“Yeah. I think so. I remember…he came out of the lake,” she murmured. She glanced back at the lake now and saw that it was still and calm. It looked beautiful again. “I knew I was having a vision but couldn’t stop it.”

Steve cleaned her up while she told them everything that happened.

“...Then I heard my name…and I heard music…my favourite song. It made a bright light appear. As soon as I saw that I knew it was my way home.”

“It was Eddie’s idea!” Dustin said proudly. “He saw you from the window and grabbed Max’s walkman. He managed to cram the headphones over your ears just before you started floating up…but I guess it’s in the lake now though.”

“I’m just glad I had Pat Bentar on there,” Max mumbled.

Chrissy didn’t want to think about ‘what if’s’ right now. Instead she looked back at Eddie. His hands were still holding her waist. “How did you know that was my favourite? You’ve never asked.”

“Didn’t need to. You humm it sometimes.”

Chrissy smiled. She began to cry.

She let Steve finish cleaning her wounds while Lucas grabbed them all warm blankets. Steve told her she had two large jagged scratches on either side of her face, running from the tips of her lips all the way to her eyes. “They aren’t deep enough to need stitches but I’ll get you something for the pain. I don’t think they’ll scar…”

Chrissy found she didn’t care. She might’ve once. She was just thankful Vecna missed her eyes.

“I can't believe you kicked Vecna,” Dustin was saying. “That’s so fucking cool.”

“Very metal,” Eddie agreed quietly.

Eddie was still watching her closely. It was like he didn’t quite believe it was over and she wouldn’t start floating away again. She watched as two faint red patches started forming on his cheeks. It was like he was just now realising how close they were.

“I need to sit down. Can I…?”

Steve immediately suggested she go upstairs to lay down on the bed but instead she asked them to help her back into the wooden chair she’d positioned so carefully before her vision. She wanted to stay outside and sit in the last remnants of the day’s sunshine. The sun would be starting to set soon and she wanted most of all in the world to sit out here on Rick’s dock and watch it. Like he did. She didn’t want to give Vecna the satisfaction of sending her to bed and having her miss out on something she damn wanted. “Can I have some alone time?” she asked. “I just want to…sit here.”

“I don’t think you should be left alone…” Max started but Eddie spoke up.

“I’ll stay,” he said quietly.

The others went back inside (though Steve brought her out the much-appreciated pain medication). Her hands were trembling too badly to take it alone so he helped her. She thanked him gratefully.

“You’re one of the team now,” he said. “We look after our own. Eddie, bring her in if she starts turning blue, okay? Doc’s orders.”

Chrissy sighed and she lay back in the chair. Her mind was swimming with Vecna and his soft velvety voice. He’d said he wanted her purposefully because she needed him to end her long drawn-out suffering. The most tragic and clever thing, she realised, was that his words had been sprinkled with seeds of truth. She was everything he’d said. He’d looked into her heart and only held up the cracked mirror.

Chrissy was sad. She’d been sad for a long time. But did she really not want to be here anymore? Chrissy looked out towards the lake. The blue sky was gradually fading into pink.

“Eddie?” she said softly.

“I’m here.”

“Will you sit with me?”

She heard the sound of scraping wood as Eddie pulled over one of the chairs next to hers on the dock. He even readjusted the blanket around her shoulders before sitting down even though she was capable of doing it alone. It was just her face (and heart) that ached.

They stared at one another, sizing each other up almost. She noticed for the first time that his eyes weren’t entirely brown. They had little flecks of gold in them too. She’d never thought of Eddie as pretty before but she did now.

“So you jumped in the lake for me?”

“Didn’t even hesitate,” Eddie chuckled. “You can thank Steve for the lip service though. He just loves to be the hero and save the girl.”

Chrissy was so tired but she didn’t dare close her eyes in case she fell asleep. She was happy sitting here on the dock with Eddie. She lifted her feet and curled them up beneath the blanket.

“I thought I was a goner. Again. I almost gave up,” she said. “I know that’s such a pathetic thing to admit but when Vecna told me about wanting to put me out of my misery, a tiny part of me wanted to believe him. He knew about me being unhappy and sad all the time. Knew that I was shutting down inside, you know? He told me it wouldn’t make any difference to the world if I was alive or dead and I let myself believe him. Does that make me stupid?”

She saw Eddie swallow. “Look, I’m not gunna’ sit here and pretend to know what your life is like because I was dead wrong before. I know now it’s been… tough… and that asshole Vecna used that to try and manipulate you. But, Chrissy, it didn’t work. You chose to come back and you kicked him like some cheerleader warrior. It probably won’t mean much, but I’m fucking proud of you, kid.”

Chrissy smiled despite herself. “As I live and breathe, scary Eddie Munson acknowledging cheerleaders might not just be some dumb stereotype. You’ve dropped Cunningham too. It sounds nice.”

“No turning back now. It felt like such a trip when you called me Munson during breakfast. Even if I totally deserved it.”

“You didn’t.”

“No, I did. I was a complete asshole. Chrissy, look, I know you’ve been through a lot today and the kindest thing would be to leave you alone, but can you stay awake just a little longer to hear my shitty apology? After that I’ll give you some space or carry you up to bed or…whatever you want.”

“You don’t need to -”

“I do. Please. I need to apologise for everything. For the way I’ve been avoiding you and for every fucking crappy thing I said to you this morning. I would take it all back in a heartbeat because every word was total bullshit, Chrissy. I didn’t mean any of it. I was so angry and scared and worried and pathetic… and you were right when you called me out on it because I was taking it out on you.”

“But why me? Because I ran away?”

“No, Chrissy, please listen…” He moved his chair so close that his leg brushed against her knee. “It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do, okay? You’ve been so fucking spectacular. The way you’ve been caring for everyone and helping out. It’s just…in my fucked up brain…every time I look at you I think of that Fred kid - but I see you like that and it just breaks me. Every time you flinch at the name Vecna or touch your jaw I die a little bit inside. I feel so guilty and scared that it could have so easily have been you. I still can’t believe tonight…seeing you floating like that above the water and seeing the blood when that fucker cut into your face…God, if Max hadn't had that stupid song on her walkman... Chrissy, I can’t deal with the thought of…you dying.”

Eddie had closed his eyes but when Chrissy lightly touched the back of his hand they flew open.

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m alright. Look at my neck. My wrists. My jaw. I’m not broken. Look at my eyes. I’m here.”

She shrugged down her warm blanket and held out her arms, bared her neck, lifted her chin. She let him trace his fingers along her skin, reassuring himself that yes she was smooth. She was whole. His eyes searched her greedily. She might have found the idea of letting Eddie Munson do this to her odd once but now it only made her feel safe.

Then his eyes came to rest on her face, on the deep scratches. “Steve’s done a good job and I don’t think they’ll leave any punk scars. We’ll have to think of an excuse for your folks though…and Jason. If I’d only put that music on sooner…”

“The important thing is you did. It was quick thinking.”

She let him trace his fingers over her face too. She could see it helped clear away some of the tightness on his face.

“When I looked out the window and saw you go still…I’ve never felt so fucking scared, Chriss. And the last time in my trailer? I was so freaked out I nearly ran out of there myself. I thought I was used to horror and gore and monsters, but that was all pretend before. I don’t know jack shit about any of this or how I can help, and maybe I’m a coward but I think that just added to whatever sizable chip I’ve got growing on my shoulder right now. When I saw you again at the Wheeler’s you thanked me, Chrissy, and kept looking at me like I was some hero like Steve and I knew I wasn’t. You’re still looking at me like it even now…it’s like, what the fuck can I do?”

“But Eddie, don’t you remember that Twain quote in English class? About courage being resistance to fear? We had a test about him.”

“You know I’m failing English, Chrissy.”

“Well that’s what he said. The fact is you’ve saved me three times now. Twice from Vecna and once from drowning, and you’ve been scared the whole time. I think that’s pretty courageous,” she added with a small smile. “So I do get to call you a hero. That’s my prerogative as the crappy damsel.”

Eddie’s lips twitched into a smile and it looked like he was blushing.

“Well maybe I’m okay when Vecna comes calling… but I was too much of a coward to face you though. To give you what you wanted. What you needed…”

“What do you mean?”

They were both still soaking wet although the blankets and sun were doing their damn best to dry them off. But when Eddie reached out and took her hand she felt like it was a summer day in July. He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“By my count, we’ve shared two fucking terrifying moments together but instead of…I don’t know, bonding over it? Helping each other out?...I’ve been pushing you away like an asshole. I don’t know a damn about psychology or trauma or whatever…but what I do know is talking to you about it now feels really good. Like some of my damage has mended and I can breathe a little easier. That’s got to be a good thing, right?” he said. “So let me finally step up and be here for you. I want to. I want to hear everything that’s going on with you. No frills. No bullshit... Lay it on me, Chrissy. Please.”

Chrissy met his eyes and saw such honest sincerity and warmth there she thought she might start crying again. He was putting down his shield and offering her his friendship and she wanted to take it so badly.

This wasn’t an olive branch or a sledgehammer - this was a flamethrower - and they would burn the metaphoric wall down to the ground. Together.

So Chrissy told him everything. She told him about her life before her visions - about cheerleading and her shitty parents and her miserable anxieties about food. She told him about Jason and how she was pretty sure she was going to break up with him because she hated bullies and didn’t want babies and a house and to be ignored for the rest of her life. She even told him about the incident at church and how it made her hate her body but at the same time she wanted to buy fucking silk pajamas too because she knew they would feel nice. She told him about college and how she wanted to take a year off and see some of the world. She was sure she’d love California and Rome and maybe even England so she could visit some real life castles.

She told him about her first vision and why she’d come to him for drugs and about how crap she still felt about running away from him. She told him about this vision. About how Vecna made her feel so worthless and weak. She told him about the gun she had upstairs (this was the only time he interrupted her to say gently they would get it later and store it with the other weapons so it was safe). She told him about how much she liked her new friends and how thinking about them helped her find the strength to get away from Vecna.

Eddie listened to it all and seemed to be drinking it in. With every word she felt a coil inside her begin to unwind a little. It was just like he said before about feeling mended. Like he was switching her up.

“...And I thought about you,” Chrissy admitted at long last. “How I owed it to you to come back and be here for you. I didn’t want to leave you alone again.”

Eddie had tears in his eyes and so did she.

“You weren’t totally wrong about me this morning. I have been ignoring some of the crap that goes on at school,” she admitted. He looked like he wanted to interrupt but she kept going. “I didn’t know how rough things were for you guys, but that’s no excuse now. I promise I’ll help from now on. No one should be treated that way.”

“Chrissy Cunningham, defender of the downtrodden misfits and freaks. Atta’ girl,” Eddie smiled. “But you don’t deserve to be treated that way either, you know? Not to be a dick again, I swear, but you kind of let people walk over you sometimes and you seriously don’t deserve it. You’re so cool and smart and really talented. You…you’re the real deal. You should own it.”

“…I’ll try.”

Loving oneselves was not easy and Chrissy had spent years putting herself down, but she knew Eddie was right and she should exercise more self-love like Ms Kelley said. She should try, at least. Baby steps.

Behind them the sun was setting behind the trees and the sky was a colour palette of pink, yellow, and orange hues. She lay back against her chair and she let her eyes flutter close for just a minute. She could almost purr she felt so content right now.

“The next day at the hour of sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair…”

“Is that from…?” Chrissy clumsily scooped up Dustin’s book from where she must have dropped it before her vision. On seeing the cover, Eddie grinned and she found herself grinning back just as wide, though she didn’t know why they were both so happy. Eddie took it from her gently, seeing that she was at risk of dropping it again in her tiredness.

“Same author but different book. If you like The Hobbit you can borrow my copy of Rings after. I promise you’ll love it. That’s a Munson guarantee.”

“I’d really like that, Eddie.”

“And I’ll try and read Little Women…are they actually tiny women or…?”

Chrissy found herself giggling softly. “Maybe we can talk about them together? Start our own private ‘End of the World’ book club. I’d like to hear more about D&D too and what it all means. Maybe even watch a game sometime…if that’s okay?”

“It’s a deal.”

Chrissy found her eyes once again closing and she yawned. She thought she could sleep for a thousand years. She snuggled down further into her blanket.

“Sleep Chrissy. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

She liked the sound of that. Her friends. Nancy and Robin would be home soon too.

“Eddie?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Mm?”

“So you really don’t hate me?”

“No way. Not possible.”

“Can we…can we be friends? I’d really like to be your friend.”

There was a little pause and she just about heard him clear his throat.

“Best of friends, Chriss. Best buddies.”

And her heart sang.

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

A/N:

Annnnnnd we're done folks. Chrissy and Eddie can now look to the future and kick some Vecna butt as team mates (the best team mates). A few notes:

- Firstly, thank you so much for reading this crazy mess. I promise to go back at some point and edit and cut that word count down - but I'm already up to my eyeballs with others ideas for the two (maybe taking place in the same series as this one?) - I wanted to leave it as them friends but it's pretty clear they are going to be something more, you know? Plenty of hints scattered in that Eddie is crazy about Chrissy and she's starting to notice him too. - Eddie IS crazy about Chrissy throughout this fic though he might not feel like he can show it (she has Jason remember and as far as Eddie knows they're a couple couple until she admits it at the end). He's not treading on any toes. - Lyrics are from 'Master of Puppets' and 'Love Is a Battlefield'. I saw an interview where Chrissy's actor mentions this would be the song to pull Chrissy out. - Yeah the men at the War Zone suck balls, but it's something we read about every day right? I'd like to say things are better but fuck that. Make noise, people. I actually wrote Eddie stepping in and guiding her out initially (with Chrissy under his arm naturally) but it just didn't feel right. You can bet that both he and Steve wanted to kick ass though and Eddie was gritting his fucking teeth. - I love Dustin and Chrissy moments. I also love Steve and Chrissy moments. - Yeah sorry Steve gave her mouth to mouth because he actually knows what he's doing - being a lifeguard and all - but Eddie was first in the water. Steve helped pull her out. - The Rings quote Eddie says '...The next day at the hour of sunset Aragorn walked alone in the woods, and his heart was high within him; and he sang, for he was full of hope and the world was fair…” is about a sunset, yes, but also before Aragon meets the love of his fucking life and thinks he's stumbled into a dream. Nice work, Eddie, lay those seeds.

Love to you all - Hellcheer forever.

#chrissy x eddie #hellcheer #eddie munson #edssy #eddie x chrissy #eddissy #hellcheer fanfic #hellcheer headcanons #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy deserved better #ymaohoh #chrissy and eddie #fuck you vecna

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crushedbyhyperbole · 1 year

Text

Bewitched

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character (First Person Bucky POV)

Summary: After a poker game ends in victory for Bucky, one of his team mates doesn't take it lying down. Wanda Maximoff is a sore loser and seeks revenge in any way she can, which leads to an unexpected encounter between Bucky and the illustrious Dr Veronica Edwards, in the form of a Maximoff-aided vision.

Bucky has only just realised that he no longer dislikes the woman but this encounter ramps that all the way up to eleven. Things that are seen can't be unseen and things that are felt will be realised.

Words: 4.3k

Note: Part four of Muscle Memory. In this we see a more confident Bucky who is starting to find his way through his new life, learning things about himself and others and also about what he wants. It's just an excuse for some smut really. Sorry about the shitty banner but I hope you enjoy ;) Comments, likes & reblogs are very much appreciated

Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, coming untouched, mind control, dub con - it's very mild and pre-implied that Wanda can't make Bucky see things he doesn't want to see.

***18+ content - this content is created for adults - minors do not interact***

Bucky Barnes MasterList

Wanda Maximov was a sore loser. Ever since I beat her at a friendly low(ish) stakes poker game here at the compound the other week, she’d been trying to get revenge.

The Scarlet Witch had apparently been trying to read my mind during the game. Maybe I was impervious, or maybe it was too fucked up in here for her to get anything from me but she’d been unsuccessful and had huffed like a teenager afterwards.

“If I’d known Metallica over there was going to clean all the ladies out, I’d have suggested playing for clothes instead.” Stark had said out of the corner of his mouth; a joke that was meant for everyone to hear and to be a suggestion for next time.

“He cheated.” Wanda exclaimed for the umpteenth time. “He used his abilities to tell if I was bluffing.”

“Love,” Vision tried to calm her, “he can’t help it if your poker-face left nothing to the imagination.” He smiled softly as Wanda slapped his shoulder, too hard to be just playful.

Vision still hadn’t mastered many facial expressions; a smirk was beyond him at this point.

“If it makes you feel better, you can take the money.” I offered. Funny though Vision’s comment had been, I could tell she was raging inside.

“Money can’t buy pride.” She huffed as she left.

I mouthed the word ‘sorry’ to Vision before awkwardly scooping up my winnings of $1791.

Later I would donate the money to one of Pepper’s charity recommendations; the little princess foundation.

Since that night, Wanda had been trying to haze me by drinking my beer, eating my snacks, and even deleting my recorded tv programs from the Teevo. The only problem with that was that I didn’t really record anything and she only succeeded in pissing Steve off because it was his stuff that she canned. This made her more annoyed.

“I forgive you for drinking my beer. And I’m sorry about the poker.” I said when Steve and I had confronted her about the Teevo. “If I’d have known it was so important to you I’d have backed down.”

That hadn’t helped at all. She’d raged out and tried to tap me with her power. When it didn’t take properly she stormed off again, leaving me feeling dizzy and a little nauseous.

“She’s getting benched until she sorts her attitude out.” Steve grumbled. “I can’t have loose cannons out there on mission when we could all be fighting for our lives. She’d be a liability.”

“That’s probably a little harsh. I’ll just tell her I cheated. It’s far easier than the alternative.” I gave him a reassuring smile.

“She tried to read your mind, what’s that if not cheating? All you did was read the signs in her body language. The super-soldier serum doesn’t enhance perception, Buck.”

“I know that, but I’ll take one for the team on this. She’s an asset but she’s lost her way. I know what that’s like more than anyone.”

“You’re a good friend, Buck, always were. That’s one thing that will never change.”

Despite me agreeing that I cheated, and telling everyone else that she was right - I’d cheated, she still wouldn’t drop her vendetta. She behaved nicely to my face but behind my back she was like a snake in the grass. She figured out that she couldn’t fuck with my mind like she wanted, couldn’t make me see things I didn’t want to see, but she could do it to everyone else.

“What was that you just said?” Sam said to me when we were going through schematics for a target building in the next day’s mission.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Nah, nah, nah, I heard you. You called me bird-brain.”

I searched his face for any sign of a joke but all I caught was the slight red mist that tainted the whites of his eyes and I knew what was going on. Christ!

It carried on like that for another day or two after the next day’s mission, so I decided I was just going to stay in my room until it was time to do my job. But soon I had people knocking on my door or calling me at all hours of the day and night, asking my why I’d shouted for them or why I’d called them and hung up. I was getting frustrated.

After that I’d taken to sleeping in one of the Escalades I’d park in various places around the compound, only coming inside when I needed to eat, train or shower.

It was one of those nights I saw her. Veronica. Asleep on the sofa in the communal lounge.

I’d come in to grab a quick meal, sneaking in through the glass doors of the spacious first floor lounge. It was easy for me to scale up onto the roof-top patio and let myself in silently with my keycard. I spent decades being a ghost, a shadow seldom seen, that part of the training hadn’t gone away.

The light was low and rosy with a flickering starkness from the muted TV. She lay stretched out on the 4-seater, one leg bent, knee against the backrest, and the other laid out flat. She had one hand tucked behind her head and the other hung loosely over the edge of the seat cushion where her book had fallen from her fingers and lay crumpled on the floor.

Her hair cascaded over the arm rest beautifully and her long lashes flickered against her cheeks as she dreamed, her lips slightly parted. She looked so serene.

It only felt like a moment that I stood there watching but as I took the opportunity to look at her without the scorn of her scrutiny, to really see her, I noticed things about her that I’d never paid attention to before. She was stunning.

What the fuck, man? You suddenly realise you don’t hate her and now you’re making the ‘goo-goo eyes’?

Her legs were smooth and graceful, the skin lightly tanned and almost glowing with inner radiance. The light grey sports shorts she wore showed them off perfectly, the black trim around the edge where it clipped up at her hip gave way to a sliver of white underwear. The waistband of the shorts sat low on her hips and the way the fabric bunched between her legs showed the perfect v of her mound.

God damn!

My heart quickened. I shouldn’t be staring like this but she looked divine and honestly I had never had the opportunity to see her this way, relaxed and unguarded.

Jesus Christ!

Her belly button was a delicate oval peeking underneath the white of her vest, stomach smooth like her thighs and also lightly tanned. The white fabric was a little loose over her ribs but stretched tight across her breasts which were… holy fuck! Glorious. They were larger than they seemed, parted slightly as she lay there braless. The slight outline and soft peak of her nipples so painfully obvious to me.

I felt my groin tingle as pressure began to build. What the hell was I thinking? I was going to spontaneously combust.

Mentally shaking myself, I made a move toward the kitchen; my goal had been a meal and then right back to the Escalade. I set my eyes on the kitchen and clenched my jaw. I had to go.

One step. One small movement to sidestep the sofa that had put me at Veronica’s feet. That was all I managed before a sensation of proximity at my shoulder told me I’d made a grave mistake.

I felt the jolt, like I had many times before. It was like a puff of air against the skin of my temple, but it penetrated and seeped into my head, settling like ash over my consciousness. All the other times I’d managed to shake myself loose before Wanda’s mind tap had taken hold but this time I’d fucked up. Big time.

The scarlet smoke shrouded my vision and the only thing that pulled me through was a heavenly sigh that deepened into a soft moan, and I swear it pulled on my cock so hard I almost stumbled forward.

Blinking rapidly to clear my eyes, I let the dizziness dissipate. That had been a close one.

There was no sign of Wanda when I scanned for her. Stretching my senses outward yielded nothing, there was just me and the sleeping woman on the sofa. Veronica.

She moaned lightly in her sleep, a hint of sexual need lay in the sound and it made my cock twitch in my sweatpants. Her back arched a little, pushing her breasts up further, stretching the fabric of her vest until I could see her nipples as slightly darker rounds beneath the sheer white vest. They were achingly hard, like my cock. I watched her hand slip up over one breast, fingers circling the bud through her clothes.

Holy shit!

I knew I shouldn’t stay to watch but I was fucked if I wasn’t rooted to the spot, my erection begging for attention. Screwing my eyes shut, I tried to will my legs to move but they wouldn’t obey. Maybe I needed more time to come down from Wanda’s mental touch, she’d almost got me this time after all.

Panicking a little because I knew I couldn’t get caught here like this, my heart thudded in my chest, making more blood pump straight to where it was most definitely not needed.

“Bucky…” Her sigh kickstarted my adrenaline, making my eyes fly open. It had been so soft, barely a whisper but it had hit me like a sucker punch.

I watched in disbelief as her other hand snaked down into the front of her little shorts, covering the smoothness of her mons, fingers teasing lazily.

I moaned then, low and guttural, stirring her from her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she sighed deeply, relishing the sensations she was creating.

Shit! I needed to run, get the fuck out of there before she fully came to and realised I’d been watching her, but my legs… Fucking traitorous things! Thighs of betrayal. Feet like cement blocks. They wouldn’t move. It was like when HYDRA had given me the first damn arm and I’d struggled to integrate with it; it had seemed to have a mind of its own.

She focused on me but instead of shock and horror, a sultry smile curled her lips and she blinked slowly. My hand was gripping my crotch through my sweats half to cover my obvious arousal and half to create friction. She flicked a glance down my body before closing her eyes again and resuming her finger play. She definitely noticed.

Oh my god!

After a few panicked and torturous moments watching her tease herself, and me along with it, I slipped my hand into my pants and gave myself the long slow stroke I craved, sighing with relief as I did.

Veronica was looking at me again, watching me loosely stroking under my pants as she did the same, eyes moving between my face and the rise and fall of the clothing over my crotch.

It felt amazing, exciting even, having someone look at me the way she did then, lust-filled and wanton. My cock was solid in my hand, the tight feeling grew as I slowly built my pleasure from the heavy pressure between my hips.

She bit her plump lower lip, catching it in her teeth and drawing her lips up into another seductive smile. She knew exactly what she was doing to me, she knew she was wrecking me without even laying a finger on me.

“Mmmmmm.” She moaned a little louder and ground her hips as her fingers circled quicker. “Bucky!” She gasped, pinching her nipple hard through her clothes.

“Jesus!” I throbbed so hard even my asshole clenched.

If I wanted nothing more for the rest of my life it was her. To touch her, kiss her, and bury myself in her so deep I’d get lost forever.

“Show me….” She sighed as if she read my mind.

So I did, sliding my sweats down under my tightening sack, letting my cock bounce free and the goddess before me grinned, she actually fucking grinned, eyes flashing with desire.

How is this even real?

“Do you want me, Bucky?” She sighed erotically as she spoke, sending a spark of tingling pleasure across my scalp and down my spine where it ignited something in me that was long forgotten.

“I’ve always wanted you.” The admission was new but it felt right. So fucking right. “I just didn’t see it.”

I saw it now though, laid out in full. The soft adrenaline and serotonin peaks every time I saw her, that uneasy feeling in my gut - it was attraction. Each memory of her was a map back to that one sensation that I felt so strongly now I knew I always had; I wanted her, badly.

I had been stroking myself throughout that little realisation and she had been touching herself too. Her eyes were locked on mine until suddenly she gasped and cried out softly, closing them lightly against the pleasure she’d felt.

“I want you too.” Her face was flushed and she looked more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen. “But we can’t.”

“Boyfriend?” Was all I could say, the lump in my throat making my voice no more than a croak.

She nodded slowly, biting her lip again as she watched me fucking into my own fist.

“I’m starting not to care too much about that, doll.” And just like that, forties Bucky was right there, all confident and suave.

Fuck me, I’m going to hell for this.

She clawed at the neckline of her vest, dragging the material down under her perfect breasts, baring them for me as if she wasn’t tempting enough already.

I hadn’t even touched her yet and I was ready to pop. The singing of my nerves was too much and embarrassingly I started to come.

Shit, no!

I fell to my knees, gripping the base of my cock fiercely in a futile attempt to stave off my oncoming release but –

“Ahhh, holy fucking hell, Vee…” I moaned as I came, hunched forward with one hand braced against the floor and the other squeezing my cock in a death grip.

It was as exquisite as it was guilty and as if seeing me come undone was enough for her, she cried out, back arching in her own release.

My god she looked divine, all flushed and glowing and… just wait a goddamn minute!

What did I call her? Vee? I never call her that. I don’t even like that name on her. Then what the…? Oh, fuck my life!

My anger flared as I pushed against my own consciousness. None of this was real but I’d been so absorbed in what I was feeling that I hadn’t seen it for what it was. I was stuck in Wanda’s mind fuck, literally.

When I thought I’d avoided her mind tap it had all been part of the process, to lure me in, make me think I was safe. She’d really suckered me with that one.

It took a few seconds for me to come me back to myself. Dizziness and nausea kicking in the second I refocused on the real world.

I was on my knees by the sofa, clothing intact but a sticky sensation inside my underwear. Christ I’d actually come untouched like a fucking teenager. That was more than a little embarrassing but there were more pressing matters.

Panicking, I glanced at Veronica. She was still there on the sofa sleeping restlessly now, looking like she had when I’d first seen her there only the flush of her skin was unmistakeable. She subtly rolled her hips, grinding against some imagined thing between her thighs and Oh Jesus Christ! The light grey of her shorts was darkened with wetness; proof of her arousal.

She sighed in her sleep, hand trailing over her hip, fingers slipping into the waistband of her shorts. And fuck me if I wasn’t getting hard again.

I bolted. My feet obeying me without question. Food forgotten, I slipped out of the communal area silent but watchful; Wanda had to be around here somewhere. I headed for my room.

What the hell had she done to me? Putting shit like that in my head. It was one thing to prank someone but this was something else. What if I’d have raged out? Hurt someone? I was only just starting to trust myself and get my shit back together, the last thing anyone around here needed was to have to contain a regressed Winter Soldier. What if I’d hurt Veronica?

Fuck!

What had she been doing there in the first place? She didn’t live on site but it sure looked like she was staying the night, what with the little shorts and vest and all.

I slammed the door to my room, hard. I didn’t much care if I woke people up.

I saw her again in my mind’s eye, flushed and aroused, and touching herself. Oh come on, that wasn’t her, that was Wanda’s mind fuck. But Veronica had really been aroused, and I’d just left her there in the communal area. What if someone else found her, she’d be so embarrassed.

“FRIDAY?” I said, breathing like I’d ran a circuit of the compound.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“Can you put the volume on the TV in the lounge? Loud enough to wake Dr Edwards? I don’t think she’ll want to sleep on the sofa all night.”

“No problem!”

“Oh, and FRIDAY?”

“Yes Sergeant?”

“Don’t tell anyone I asked you.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

I could practically hear the wink in her tone. It was still unnerving how human she, it, sounded.

The shower was cold. It needed to be.

I’d made a mess in my briefs but that wasn’t the most disturbing thing. Now that I’d had the mental image of Veronica, Dr Edwards, all hot and lusty and so fucking beautiful, I couldn’t get her out of my head.

I felt restless and agitated, almost giddy.

Jesus, what are you, twelve?

As furious as I was with Wanda, I had to admit to myself that I was also happy? Her little prank was unorthodox but somehow it had connected a piece of my broken emotions to the person who sparked it. It felt right even if it was wrong to feel that way. I could deny myself the urge and deny myself the act but as long as I knew what I was feeling and could give it a name, I was ok with it. Baby steps.

There was a knock at my door.

Shivering and feeling strangely alive I wrapped a towel around my waist and left the bathroom, trailing wet footprints across the floor.

There was a little excitement growing in my gut but also a healthy dose of dread. What if someone had seen me in the lounge with Veronica. I didn’t do anything wrong, but still…

I opened the door to Steve, and Wanda. The Scarlet Witch had the sense to look thoroughly ashamed of herself and Steve looked furious.

“Sup?” I pitched for nonchalant and landed somewhere near perky.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Everything ok?” He glanced around my room, as if expecting to see someone else.

“Yeah.” I beckoned them in before hunting out one of the complimentary bathrobes that I never used.

“You know why we’re here right?”

“I reckon so.” My eyes never left Wanda’s but she wouldn’t look at me.

“Go ahead.” Steve nudged Wanda gently with his elbow.

“I’m sorry for what I did tonight. I know things could have gotten out of hand and someone could have gotten hurt. I wasn’t thinking.”

“What exactly did you do, Wanda?” I was mad at her but I kept my face as relaxed as possible, which was to say I was scowling.

“I used my powers on you.” She had tears in her eyes.

“Tell him everything.” Steve said sternly.

Oh god, no, don’t say that shit out loud. I thought, panicking.

“Wait a sec-“

“I tapped your mind right down to your base emotion, to draw out your trauma. I tried to hurt you Bucky, and I’m sorry.”

There was something dark in her eyes. Did she know what I’d seen, what I’d felt? Had she put it all in there?

I took a step back, huffing a breath out through my nose. “You see what I saw?” My heart was pounding.

She shook her head, looking at the floor; a lie.

Well fuck.

“I’m sorry.” She gasped. “I didn’t know there was someone else there, they kind of got hit with a bit of my power and I was so worried you’d…” She trailed off as the tears began.

“Hurt them? Yeah, I could have.” I bit out. “It was a pretty shitty thing to do, Wanda, and all over a stupid game of poker. You couldn’t just drop it after I lied and told everyone I cheated you?”

I paced, gradually getting more frustrated.

“You know what, just go. I’ll talk to you about this some other time. Right now I just wana sleep on something that’s not a damn car seat, alright? No more harassing me.”

She nodded.

“Ok, get outa here.” I flapped my hand towards the door without looking at her.

I quizzed Steve nonverbally with a stern look.

“Vision brought her to my room, concerned.” Steve said once the door had closed after her. “He said she came to their room, upset because she thought she’d triggered you. She hadn’t realised there was someone else in the room until it was too late.”

“Yeah, it was Dr Edwards.” I said with an annoyed sigh. There was no point in saying I didn’t know. “Is she ok?”

“Yeah she’s fine. She fell asleep on the sofa but was awake when I got there, she was just taking herself off to bed actually.”

To bed? I raised an eyebrow. So she was staying at the compound tonight after all.

As if reading my question on my face he continued.

“She’s staying here a while.” He rolled his eyes as if the story was tedious. “Boyfriend issues.”

“Right.” I tried not to put too much thought into it. “She say anything about getting tapped when Wanda got me?”

“I asked her if she was ok and she just said she’d had a weird dream, wished me good night, took her book and went off to her room.”

I nodded. Weird dream, huh? I bet. If it was anything like mine then she was bound to be pretty confused right now. In the grand scheme of things, sharing a wet dream with her was better than sharing one of my other dreams. There’d have been nothing but pain, horror and torture for both of us if that had happened.

“Well that’s something.” I said, distracted.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Buck? I mean, stripping you down to your base emotions had to be traumatic. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m good.” I smiled weakly. I mean I was, and I wasn’t, but it wasn’t what he was thinking. “It wasn’t as bad as you think. I don’t think she got that deep anyway, it was mostly recent things I saw, not the HYDRA stuff or the torture. It was nothing like my nightmares.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully, not quite allowing himself to feel relieved.

“Don’t worry about me Steve, I’m doing better. I don’t want people to think I’m just going to flip a switch and regress back into him.” I snorted ironically. My thinking on this really had changed over the last few weeks. Now I didn’t doubt myself so much things were better. “Just… Whatever Wanda’s deal is, that needs to be sorted out.”

And then there’s the matter about what she saw when she was meddling in my mind. I had to know.

“Yeah about that.” Steve said cringing. “Vision said it’s hormones.”

“She’s…?” I made the ‘round belly’ gesture. That was a shock. I guess I never thought about the possibility before. That Vision could-.

“Oh hell no! She’s not pregnant.” Steve said the last word through a grimace. “Her inner moon-goddess is on the hunt.” He finished, all hush hush as if even hinting at the words ‘period’ and ‘horny’ in the same sentence was the worst thing in the world.

I laughed hard. Steve was such a kid sometimes.

“Christ, man. I was right back in school with ya there for a second.”

His goofy grin warmed me inside and I broke into another snickering laugh.

“Get outa here, punk. This old man has got a whole lot of sleep to catch up on.”

Leaving me alone with my thoughts probably wasn’t the best thing to do. Without the distraction of another person in the room, all I could think about was Veronica. I stretched out on my bed in a pair of jockey shorts and closed my eyes. Of all the things to have visions of as you fall asleep, a beautiful, semi-naked woman is definitely not the worst. If it came to a choice between dreams of my past or erotic dreams of a woman I’d only just realised I didn’t hate, then I knew which one I preferred. Guilty feeling or not, I’d go with the girl.

As I drifted towards sleep I heard an echo of her sighing my name. Smiling, I surrendered my mind to the night.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes recovering #bucky barnes x original female character #Bucky Barnes #cloudy's writing

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hijinxensues · 1 year

Text

The Cloaking Brooch Dilemma - Part 12

RotTMNT Donatello x OC!AFAB

Synopsis: Donatello considered himself, nay, deemed himself the greatest mind of his generation. He was known for his skills as a scientist, inventor, engineer and was a technological genius. Dare he throw in that he was a damn good brother and held the title of being ¼th ‘Protector of New York City’.

He could barely fathom that he didn’t piece together that the pretty barista he was falling for was simultaneously his gaming buddy (might I add, for the last eight years) and was working for Big Mama.

At this very moment, Donatello was sure of two things in his life. One of them being his life was a joke and the second being that he was fraternizing with the enemy.

All because he decided to run errands whilst donning his cloaking brooch.

Warnings: Aged-Up turtles, fluff, Half-Yokai OC, AFAB OC (does use she/her/they pronouns in writing), swearing

FIRST

Ch 12 – Boysenberry

Your eyes scan the conversation on your phone as you lay in bed, still brewing over the disaster date from Hell that happened a few days prior. Huffing annoyedly, you roll over on your back and adjust your shirt roughly, so it doesn’t ride up your back uncomfortably. There’s a wall of text from Donatello before leading into a very brief conversation between the two of you.

Between the ‘I understand’s and online apologies from Donatello and the ‘I need space’ from you, you weren’t quite sure how to move forward with things. The text thread and Discord chats were dead, and while you’re relieved and thankful Donatello has always been nothing but respectful and took things literally to a fault, you’re almost…sad he doesn’t try to reach out.

It felt like a breakup. It hurt and it made you angry. Not only did you have to come to terms with him not having romantic feelings, but you also needed to grieve that you didn’t really have a friend in him either anymore, atleast for the time being. It was still up in the air with next steps, but you were still so hurt and confused.

Trudging through your apartment, the mess had gotten away from you. Between yourself, Usagi and the occasional Leo coming through couch cushions lived on the floor, blankets strewn across any surface and not to mention any type of snack or fast-food container littered your counter tops and coffee table. The dish washer was still broken and it was now not going to get fixed just because you were not on speaking terms with Donatello so you’d have to dip into a paycheque to buy a new one.

Washing dishes were your least favorite chore and thus it was done the least. You made a mental note to ask Leo to do them next time he was over, it was the least he could do for invading your tiny one bedroom apartment. It cost a ton to feed both a big Rabbit-Yokai and an even bigger ‘Mutant Turtle’.

Fluffing out a garbage bag you start to sort out your garbage and compost, your nose wrinkling at the smell of leftover food. You’d spent the last few days vegging out by yourself, crying, watching shitty rom-coms (where the guy does in fact, get the girl, as always) and doing bad karaoke with your blue boys.

Exhaling heavily, you set the garbage bag down in a corner and start doing a half ass clean around your apartment. It looks half decent after an hour, with anything plush in a bin set aside in the bedroom and the dirty dishes stacked in the sink instead of all over the apartment. You light a few candles, a liberty you try to indulge in now given Donatello won’t be coming by for a... very long while, before popping into the bathroom to take a well-deserved shower.

You wipe away the condensation off the mirror and encase your ears and hair in towel atop your head. Fingers itch to pick up your phone and you do, only to be welcomed with no notifications. Rolling your eyes, you ignore the sinking feeling in your gut, “Stupid.” You mutter under your breath as you dry off and place your phone on the counter rougher than you mean to.

Pulling the spare blankets from the closet you give them a quick sniff and cringe, how long had those been sitting in here? They smelt old, but with everything else waiting to be washed you’d have to make do. You pile a few fluffier blankets onto the couch and push it around with your hands to make it into a burrow before submerging into it. Your nose wrinkles at the smell of the blankets and you try your best to squash down the urge to pick out an unkempt blanket from the laundry bin that smelled like Donatello. Everything that smelled like Usagi, smelled slightly like Leo and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was a change that you weren’t used to yet.

Getting comfortable was not a luxury that was awarded to you as you thrashed inside the blanket burrow. Pulling up the couch cushions, you kneaded at them roughly in a poor attempt to fluff them up and in a flash your eyes light up as your nose catches a whiff of…something. It smelt good, and it was comforting. Through unfocused vision you shift your head as your nose twitches and tries to catch the scent in the air again.

Stuffed between the crevices of the couch was Donatello’s signature purple hoodie.

Mentally you scold yourself at how much you wanted to drown in the scent and grab at it with force pulling it from its confines. Balling it up you fully intend on throwing it across the apartment and while your arm does the motion, your hand does not let go.

Eyes flit to the balcony and then to the rest of your tiny abode as if someone was going to catch you doing something wrong. Your nose is pressed to the soft fabric before you can comprehend what you’re doing, and you inhale so deeply it makes you lightheaded. Fingers clenching into the hoodie, the fabric is gently rubbed against your cheeks. Donatello was very cognizant of the texture of clothing he owned, even all the causal clothing he wore around your apartment was in pristine condition and almost always the softest article of clothing you touched at any given time.

In a moment of weakness, the hoodie makes its way onto your body, sleeves pooling around your wrists and the collar is pulled up to cover half your face above your nose. The satin lining of the hoodie does little to soothe the cacophony of emotions that run between your chest and stomach. Donnie said his clothes were up for grabs and you had explicit permission to wear them, but you felt almost guilty for wearing his clothes and knowing he didn’t like you in the way you liked him. The Donnie that materializes in your thoughts drowns you in his scent clothes, top to bottom, because he likes you. Because he wanted you and the thought shoots straight down.

You jump up at the sound of your phone pinging and you wrestle your way out of the burrow you’ve made. The phone screen lights up and you groan looking at the calendar reminder about a friends birthday party you were meant to go to tonight. You push down the disappointment that it isn’t Donnie. Tears pool at the corners of your eyes out of frustration and you press your palms hard into your eyes to quell the tears, Donatello was meant to help you pick out and tailor an outfit for you for tonight.

You tap the ‘confirm’ button to send to your friend and lay back down going through your mental checklist of what you needed to do if you were going to attend the event. Glancing at the clock it tells you that you had roughly two hours to freshen up, find an outfit in your closet, probably tailor it (you didn’t know how to tailor) and then hop in an Uber.

Begrudgingly your legs kick out and off the couch, paw pads sinking into the plush carpet. A coffee was in order.

Braving the winter weather, you make your way over to Rendezvous. The coffee shop was so close you decided Donnie’s hoodie and a pair of fleece lined leggings with boots would be sufficient for your trek, you just hoped to any and all deities you wouldn’t run into him.

A blast of warm air hits you as you enter in the coffee shop and you upnod your coworkers’ working the till and coffee station. You busy yourself by picking around your cuticles as you wait in line, your phone essentially useless to you and you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to not text Donnie given the stress you were under to make it to the event tonight.

Your heart jumps as a green tridactyl hand comes to cover yours to curb your picking, “Fancy seeing you here.” His eyes flit over to your hoodie and his pupils dilate; you supposed purple was his color too.

You snort and face him with a crooked smile and a shrug. “It’s not like I work here or anything, Fearless.”

He looks tired, bags under his eyes, his brows drawn on with not as much care as usual.

He quirks a brow with a small grimace, “Fearless?”

Chuckling you nod, “Yeah, my ‘fearless hero’ who escorted me home. Or do you prefer ‘Hero-Boy’ instead? ‘Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle’ is a mouthful and I refuse to call you that while we protect your identity.” Thinking back to your encounter with him in front of the bank, you couldn’t for the life of you what Leo called him. Donathon? No, that’s not even a real name. Was it Jonathon? That seemed more plausible.

The terrapin in purple takes a solid few seconds musing over his options thoughtfully before nodding, “A bit odd as my brother is often also referred to as ‘Fearless’ as a silly nickname, but it’ll do for now.” You make a mental check in your brain as he confirms he has a brother. Perhaps him and Leo were brothers? You couldn’t assume any Terrapin Yokai was related, you wouldn’t be any better than the people who insisted that you and Usagi were cousins.

The both of you reach the front of the line and you hold a hand up and slap down your card and mischievous glint in your eye, “I got it, you look a little worse for wear.”

“Oh hoh, you’re one to talk.” He eyes you up casually with a playful grin and you’re suddenly self conscious of the messy damp hair tied up on your head along with the too-big hoodie and mis matched socks. Knocking your arm into his roughly you shush him and order what you need to as your co-worker glances between the two of you suggestively. Rolling your eyes, you do a tiny shake of your head to your co-worker to get them to bite their tongue over the dynamic between the two of you.

“This is a weird question,” the coffee shop was busier than it usually was and the ambient sounds of customers was comforting, “do you know how to tailor?”

Fearless nods, slowly. “I do, mutant turtles do not often fit into human clothes and thus a lot of tailoring does need to happen.” He nods his thanks to your co-worker before picking up both latte’s and handing you one. A blush creeps up your neck as you linger a little longer at his hands than you mean to, the paper cup looked so tiny in comparison.

“Second weird question, I have an event tonight and I probably don’t have anything that’s ready to wear. But I might be able to put something together, the catch is-“

“You’d need someone to tailor so it’d fit.”

“That big brain of yours is working hard, Fearless.”

He laughs allowing you a peak at his pointed canines you’ve never noticed before, “Inviting me into your home and you haven’t even taken me out to dinner.”

Scowling, your cheeks are painted pink. The smile he tosses you reaches his eyes, and he doesn’t look ragged anymore. You don’t recall him ever being this brazen with you before, and this version of him was much more tolerable than the version you had run into with your rabbit ears equipped. You have you avert your gaze, so you don’t combust and head to the front door, “I asked you for help, not for your hand in marriage.” He snorts and follows close behind you, “I had a friend who was meant to swing by but…” your free hand waves absentmindedly, “it fell through. They uh, left me hanging, so to speak.”

Fearless hums and opens the door allowing you to pass through first and you shiver at the temperature change, “Sounds like they’re an idiot. I’d be happy to assist you. This is exactly what your Friendly-Neighborhood Purple Turtle does.”

“You’ll have to excuse the mess, I half-way cleaned earlier but uh, I’m going through it right now.” Sheepishly you shrug and open the door and kick your boots off. Quickly you make your way to the balcony and open the door to allow some circulation into the tiny apartment, then haphazard clean anything out of place and kick the garbage bag you were using farther off to the side and tie it closed. “Sorry, Fearless. I’m usually better than this.”

He waves his hand casually, “Worry not, Violet! We all ‘go through it’ as you say.” He makes air quotes with a single digit on both hands. If he’s disgusted by your dinky little apartment, he doesn’t show it.

“Right, well, shoes off,” a pause, “Nevermind. Make yourself at home was where I was going with that.”

Fearless moves through your space like he owns it. He picks a coaster off the top o your fridge and pops a coffee pod into the Keurig before refilling the water and pressing start. He opens the cabinet under your sink to dispose of the old coffee pod and washes his hands, “Let’s get started, shall we?”

“How’d you know where the coasters were? No one has ever successfully guessed where I keep them.”

There’s the most miniscule pause before he shrugs casually, “I’m a ninja, Violet. Always expect the unexpected.”

You give him an incredulous look and make your way to the bedroom, “Sure? I don’t really know how that answers my question?” You catalogue this dialogue and make sure to bring it up at Girls Night tomorrow.

Fearless claps his hands twice, “Chop, chop, s’il vous plait! Off to the bedroom with you.” He allows you to enter first and presses a hand to the small of your back, his hand almost fully encompassing your waist due to its size, as he makes his way around you.

You pray he doesn’t catch your shiver as his fingertips leave you, “Okay, so uh, I had a few options for tonight. The event is like, semi-formal? I have a few dresses, but I think they might be a bit too small. I’m not sure if there’s enough fabric to really let them out and re-do the seams? I also have a skirt and a top option.” You pull out various clothes and toss them onto your unmade bed, “Yeah, sorry the bedroom is usually in better shape too but yenno.”

“Let’s see. May I also have a look in your closet?”

Nodding you step aside, “I’ve got all my kinda formal stuff in here, go crazy.”

Fearless is meticulous in looking through your wardrobe. He pinches and rolls fabric in between his fingers and holds articles of clothing in front of him to fully examine in silence before placing them back thoughtfully. You watch him from your perch on the bed and catch his nostrils flare for a moment then stop. Weird, maybe you needed to toss some mothballs in there if your wardrobe smelled like mildew or something.

He turns and looks at the selection you haphazardly put together on the bed, “This red one seems adequate. The color would be appropriate for an evening cocktail type of event. What’s wrong with this one?” It’s a tight fitting, midi length dress with full length sleeves and a collar that would rest right under your neck. The top fabric is sheer and the under fabric stopped just a few inches before the sheer fabric did to give the dress a bit more depth.

He pulls at the fabric to test its stretchiness and holds it out in front of you pinching where the shoulders would be. “Nothing, it’s too tight.”

“Where?”

“Er, in the hip area.”

The rabbit DNA was a blessing and a curse.

There’s a very light blush across his snout you think is adorable as he clears his throat, “Right,” he moves and sits on the edge of the bed stiffly, “Give me a moment.” He straightens out the dress and drapes it over his lap delicately, then starting from the collar of his hoodie, he pulls up and over. You barely register that his goggles get jostled and that he slightly rearranges his wrappings in the tussle with his hoodie as his plastron being revealed inch by inch is much prettier view. He still had his black wrappings and grey sweats equipped so he wasn’t naked by definition but it sure as hell felt like he was. His hand is on his own shoulder, and he rotates his arm from the shoulder to relax it, his bicep flexing as he wiggles his fingers and takes hold of the dress again.

God, what is wrong with you? One minute you’re crying over Donnie and the next you’re thirsting over a Yokai that’s conveniently in your bedroom.

Mechanical arms pop out of his tech shell and procure a small sewing kit and he gets to work. The bed dips behind him and you give him adequate space to work as you hover over his shoulder to watch. You’d never been this close before and you take full advantage of unabashedly staring as his focus is pulled elsewhere, his tongue poking out as he does the task at hand.

Freckles peppered the pebbled skin on his shoulders, his elbows also a slightly darker shade of green. Rectangle purple markings grace his biceps, they match the ones on his thighs you’ve seen before. His mask covered most of them, but you just barely get a peak at the light smattering of freckles that went over his snout, you bet he was gorgeous in the sun. Three thin stripes grow downwards and over the expanse of his throat, and with you this close you can tell they taper off with only a light online leading to the edge of the top of his plastron.

“Your stripes still growing in?” you whisper not to disturb him, your chin dangerously close to resting on the shoulder plate of his battle shell as you watch his fingers deftly seam rip the dress.

The feeling of pride surges through you as he tries to hide his shiver by clearing his throat. “Yes, as I get older, my stripes being more prominent. It seems they develop and elongate downwards, the ones on here,” he points to this throat and your eyes follow the curve of it, “are still coming in.”

The silence is easy and your hip hurts from sitting so still on it as to not disturb Fearless’ work. You watch him tie off the final knot and he brings the excess thread to his mouth and cuts it with his canine. The act causes a flutter down below and you stand up to cover up squeezing your thighs together. You were drowning in very potent Donnie musk from the hoodie you wore and had a cute boy in your bed. This was natural. Your brain and body were getting mixed signals from all the stimuli. That was all! It wasn’t like you wanted to rip his wrappings off and lick up his stripes, no sir. You did not want that.

“Here you are, try it on. I’ll put together something as a back up as you go change.”

Nodding, you pass in front of him and head the bathroom rather quickly trying to still your racing heart. You get dressed easy enough and do a few squats and jumping jacks in the privacy of your own bathroom to test the strength of his work, you didn’t need a wardrobe malfunction while out tonight and with no one to call to help. You use one hand to run through your hair and the other to scour the inside of the side bathroom drawer, “Found it.” Usagi had gifted you a micro cloaking brooch disguised as a hair pin, the gem in the middle was clear and resembled an opal. You slick back one side of your hair and use the pin to keep it there, then fasten it with a few other pins to ensure no disasters would come of tonight.

There’s a few soft knocks at the door, “I’m merely checking in on you, it’s taking a minute. Does it not fit?”

“Er, no! I mean, yes, it does fit. It fits perfectly! Give me a sec.”

“Alright, I’ll head back to your room. I have a back up outfit in case you deem this one not appropriate for the event.”

The dress fit too well; it looked like you were poured into it. It was so form fitting you forego the underwear, you’re lucky the fabric was thick enough to hide the shape of your bra under it. The silky fabric hugged your soft, round curves and didn’t pile or rouche around your torso or hips anymore leaving a clean curve the eye could follow. You had a bit of pudge on your stomach and your “hip dips” were prominent, but you couldn’t be bothered, you spent years feeling bad for having a body and tonight was not the time for self doubt in such a pretty red dress.

“Hoh boy.” Looking at yourself one more time in the mirror you gave yourself a tiny pep talk and exited the bathroom. The bedroom door was closed and you very quietly paced back and forth as you talked yourself up and enter.

His eyes are down cast looking at the clothing options on the bed, “I’m thinking this midi skirt, with this top, if you’re not a fan of the dress. I also took the liberty on sewing up a hole on this pair of jeans I found, it was just above your tail bone, how did you manage that by the way? It’s a very odd place to need repairs. I also noticed your dish washer is broken, the main indicator being many dishes in the sink. It was an easy repair; I hope you don’t mind but why buy a new one when I could just fix the one you have? I added a bit of ‘Fearless-Flair’ to it, I haven’t tested it out but I’m sure it’ll work. I’ve programmed it to load itself so you don’t have to. One less thing for you to worry about, the modern age of technology is convenience! Forgive me, I’m rambling, anyways-“

The way he stares at you makes you think he wants to take a bite, or possibly just devour you whole. You catch his eyeline following up the curve of your hips and then back down doing a onceover. Heat raced up your thighs and behind it chased the feeling of guilt as your foggy brain latches onto the thought of Donnie. Were you a bad person for feeling like this about Fearless as your heart still belonged to someone else? ‘Someone else that didn’t like you,’ your mind chastised.

It's barely a mumble but your ears pick it up anyway, “You look pretty.” The statement is so soft in comparison to the intensity his eyes held.

“Pretty?” you repeat after him curling into yourself slightly, your fingers clasped in front of you. You hope the pink that is affixed to your cheeks looked pretty against the red dress.

He must mistake your shyness for being uncomfortable and he spring into action waving his arms out in front of him, “P-pretty!? Did I say that?”, he trips over his own feet as he takes a step forward and catches himself on your dresser effectively knocking over everything on the top of it, “What I meant to say,” he rights himself and tumbles next to you slamming himself against the wall next to you with an overly nervous laugh, “was that you looked pretty shitty!”

It starts off slow with a few snickers and before you know it you’re doubled over, hands over your midsection guffawing. Taking a few deep inhales to steady your breathing, you wipe at the corners of your eyes, “Oh god, Fearless, you’re something else!” a few more giggles sputter out as you catch your breath.

Fearless’ shoulders relax and a relaxed grin takes over his features that you return in earnest.

He opens his mouth to say something but you both jump as you hear the front door click, “Oh shit, that’s probably my friend! Oh my god, he can’t see you or I’m never going to hear the end of it.”

“Letty? Babes, are you home?”

Pressing your ear to the door you hear his foot steps quickly approaching, “Fuck, okay he’s coming in here, just- ugh, don’t say anything!”

“Who!? Why are they coming in here!?” he’s crouched at your eye level.

“I don’t fucking know! Just- just, shhh!” Fearless tenses as you put your hand over his mouth effectively silencing him. There is an attempt to move your hand from his mouth, his brows furrowed annoyed with the course of action, but with your free hand you press on his plastron keeping him in place, “Don’t move and stay quiet.” There’s a pointed eye roll but a single nod in confirmation he was going to play along, “Good boy.”

That garners a reaction you weren’t ready for as you feel a brief but deep rumble from his chest under your hand. His eyes are wide, and the rumble stops as the doorknob twists.

“Hey, oh my gosh! You look amazing, it’s Yoru’s event tonight, right? Also, do you know where my phone charger is?” Usagi tries to enter, and you stop him with your foot, “Uh, living room!”

Usagi pauses and looks you up and down, “What’s going on? You okay?” his arms are quickly crossed over his chest suspiciously and you catch his ears swivel to pick up any sound.

Nodding quickly, “Yeah, I’m just uh, super nervous for tonight! You know what I’m like and you’re not even coming to hang out with me! Phew, my social anxiety is through the roof!”

This seems to satisfy him as he stops trying to enter your bedroom, “Oh, well, I’m sorry, did you want me to cancel on-?”

“No, no! You’re all good, I’ll be totally fine.”

There’s a pause and you continue on, “So, the phone charger, it’s plugged in by the TV, if you wanted to grab it. I still need to finish up my makeup before heading out, so… you can let yourself out.”

If Usagi knows you’re lying, which he probably does, he takes mercy on you and strolls to grab the charger as you stand in your doorway, unmoving.

“So, any news on the Donnie situation?” Usagi roots around and unplugs his charger.

Your fingers twitch and you scowl, of course he’d bring this up right now, “Uh, nope! Radio silence, er, which is exactly what I asked for.”

“You still miss him?”

Head in your free hand you wince and flounder for words as the tightness in your chest hits you full force and Usagi continues, “It’s okay if you do, I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I think it’ll work itself out eventually, but yenno, I think you’ll be okay.” Usagi is kind enough to tidy your couch fixating his eyes everywhere but at you, knowing eye contact made things more difficult.

The dress suddenly feels too restricting and you’re breathing heavy now, out of your nose, finding words is more difficult as the seconds pass and if you wait any longer to answer Usagi would for sure know that you’re hiding something.

Get it together, get it together, breathe, breathe, breathe.

The terrapins hand encompasses your own and moves it to his chest, placing your palm to his plastron and he holds firmly, applying gentle pressure. Your hand is entirely hidden by his resting one and his thumb rubs over the skin on the back of your hand. His plastron vibrates, soft and reassuring. It was the rumble again, did turtles purr? Didn’t Usagi say something about Leo purring? It was called churring, you recall.

Your breathing steadies and your eyes find his and smile sheepishly, “I think I’ll be okay, too.” There’s something familiar about the way his lips curve upwards and the adorable tilt of his head, but you can’t place it. He does another firm squeeze to your hand as he stops churring.

Usagi claps and you almost give yourself whiplash looking towards him, “I’ll be going then, got what I need.” He holds up the charger and plug in attachment. Usagi squints in your direction but does head over to the door, “Text when you get there safe tonight, I’ll be at my place tonight.”

Deeming it safe you take back your hand and walk forward to tail behind the rabbit and close the door behind him, “Will do, love you!”

Your back rests against the front door, “They’re gone, Fearless. You can come out.”

He pops out with his sweater equipped while you pull a cold round citrus fruit out of the fridge. “Any allergies?”

He shakes his head and leans on the counter, chin in his hand as he watches your fingers peel the fruit expertly.

Palm up, you out stretch your hand and wiggle your fingers. He thankfully catches what you’re saying and places his hand out, palm up as well. “Thanks for tonight. Like, for everything.” The fruit is peeled fully, even taking care to remove the white membrane. It’s gently pressed into his hand, your free hand cups the back of his and you squeeze before letting go.

“It’s a-“

“Clementine.” He finishes off for you.

Nodding you toss the peel in the compost bin, “Yeah! Fun fact, did you know it’s a hybrid between a willowleaf mandarin orange and a sweet orange? Hopefully the one I gave you is sweet.”

He cradles the tiny orange fruit in both hands and turns so you can only see his side profile as he stares down at his hands, his eyes shimmering. Is he about to cry?

Fearless conceals a sniffle poorly with a cough and turns his back to you while wiping at his eyes before popping a segment in his mouth and sliding over half the fruit to you, back still turned. “It’s sweet, have some.”

The segment bursts in your mouth and you hum appreciatively at the flavor. He’s oddly neutral and you think he needs some time to himself, for whatever reason. Glancing at the clock you make your way to the bathroom again, “I’ve gotta keep getting ready, but seriously, thank you again. If you’re comfortable, you can leave through the front door. Or alternatively the patio.”

He says nothing as you pass him by and shut the door behind you.

A few minutes pass and you don’t hear him moving about the space. You exit once your makeup is done and your apartment is empty again, the patio door closed with no sign of Fearless.

Huh, you really didn’t know what to think of that guy, however you do decide to keep Fearless your little secret. For now, atleast.

TIME SKIP, Next day, evening

The sound of the vacuum mixed with the tunes in the background from your Spotify playlist is enough stimuli for your brain to keep you going as you prepare snack bowls for you and your friends. Usagi was ever so graciously manning the vacuum around the tiny space, lifting one end of the couch up with one hand, vacuuming underneath it then placing the couch back in its’ place.

Your counter tops were full of food ranging with popcorn, candys, chocolate and chips on one side and the other side consisting of sprinkles, any type of confectionary type toppings and a waffle machine. Both pancake and waffle batter was at the ready in the fridge along with home made whip cream. Breakfast for dinner was always a favorite of yours and the fluttering, giddy feeling in your chest shone brightly at being able to indulge in this with your friends.

“I think I’m all done on my end.” Usagi coils the cord around the machine and stows it away before hooking up the Nintendo Switch to your television and also plug in numerous phone chargers on an outlet near him. “Perfect, now no one needs to fight over a phone charge.”

You giggle and flap your hands in front of you, “I’m dizzy, I’m so excited!” You take another peak at your phone and watch the time change before reaching for your brooch on instinct. A furry hand catches your wrist, “You’re good, you don’t need it with them.” Stowing it away in your junk drawer you unlock your front door in preparation then jog over to the balcony door to unlock that as well, just in case Leo were to pop in unannounced as he usually does.

“They’re here! I’ll go get them.” Usagi feet does a few excited thumps on the carpet before prancing out of the suite and down the stairs to grab them.

Absentmindedly, you push around the bowls and rearrange them in the time it takes for Usagi to come back up with Sunita.

April squeals with her arms outstretched and makes a grabby hand motion at you, “C’mere you! How’re you doing, girl!”

You wrap your arms around her and hold on tightly as you both sway side to side, “Good, good! Well, yenno, been better but good now!” April gives good hugs, you decide. They’re firm and she digs here fingers slightly into your shoulder before rubbing your back.

Sunita is close behind April and wraps her arms around the two of you and holds tight, “I can’t believe the plans made it out of the group chat!”

The click of the door signals Usagi’s in and he pats each of you on the head before rubbing his furry hands together, “Let’s get situated with food and someone pick something to put on the tv to ignore. So something mildly entertaining but maybe something we’ve all seen?”

Sunita does a two-finger salute and pops a handful of candies in her mouth before making her way over to your living room to scroll through your streaming services.

Between the three of you in your very tiny kitchen, you get the waffle iron and toasty pan going on your stovetop and you begin to ladle in the batter.

“Got some tunes going! Couldn’t pick anything on a streaming service.” Sunita grooves her way to the kitchen and leans on the counter, “How’s Cass, Apes?”

“Who’s Cass?” the buttery pancake melts in your mouth, “Oh shit, this is really good!” Usagi flicks his wrist and tucks a pretend strand of hair behind his ear, “Pfft, thanks,” a goofy grin graces his features.

“My girlfriend!”

“Oh, Apes, why didn’t y’all say anything? We should’ve invited them!” you explain and pull a waffle off the iron and let it fall onto a plate to save your fingertips.

April shakes her head casually and polishes off the marshmallow bowl, “She’s busy at work tonight!” she flicks her wrist at you to signal an ‘it’s all good’, “next time. She’s a bit intense, so consider yourself ready for next time.”

“I don’t know what that means but fair enough, thank you.”

Usagi polishes off a pancake and sprays whip cream in his mouth straight from the can, “Yeah, that’s definitely the truth. She is intense.” He shrugs and smiles playfully at April, “Like, in a good way.”

April rolls her eyes at him casually and pushes her red frames up higher on her nose, “First things first, I love your digs, babe!” April saunters around your cozy apartment, walls covered in sage green. An accent wall with abstract shapes and paint strokes in a soft lavender that could almost be a grey. There were a few floating shelves that were sporadically placed filling the emptiness of the walls that had various trinkets, baubles, and photo frames.

April rubs the bottoms of her feet on the plush rug encompassing most of the square footage in the main area in the living room, “Ooo, this is nice! No offense or anything, but aren’t you just a barista?”

You guffaw and make your way over to her and drape yourself over the back of the sofa, “I work a second job that pays way too much, and this apartment is technically a ‘hand me down’ from my late-dad, so I pay the strata fee but the suite itself is paid off.”

“Lucky rabbit!” Sunita exclaims from her position in the kitchen.

You giggle and nod, “You got that right.”

“Is it just you then?” April prompts. You shake your head and draw shapes on the couch cushion, “Nah, I’ve got my mom. She lives out of town, but I do see her occasionally.”

Sunita picks up a face down photo frame hidden behind another propped up frame, “Awee, you two are too cute!” she holds the frame as if to show a classroom of kids something and the three of you peak over at it. April coos and takes the frame delicately from Sunita.

You snort, only mildly embarrassed as you recall the photo. It’s a photo of a much younger version of you and Usagi, your faces both round and youthful, the tufts of fur on his cheeks and his fringe much longer it needs to be swept backwards. Your stark white hair is messily piled on the top of your head, your rabbit ears lazily positioned downwards to showcase the carefree nature of the photo. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and both your cheeks are squished against each others making the photo-you wink. Your free hand closest to him finds Usagi’s cheek and cups it aiding in his cheek squishing yours and your other hand is posed in a peace sign. Your tongue pokes out of your boyish grin and Usagi matches the energy with a wolfish grin.

“It’s the first photo I took with my bunny ears out, yenno after my mutation. We look like twins, if you can get past the fact that I guess I’m mostly human.” You chuckle and stare fondly at the photo. You didn’t know where you’d be without him.

“I’m so cute!” Usagi grins, “I remember when my bangs were that long, gee. Why didn’t you tell me to cut them, dude? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re literally so dramatic, shut up! You’re just like Leo. That was a look back in the day, that was the trend!”

“Leo?” April quirks a brow and places the photo frame back up.

There’s an awkward pause as you search Usagi’s eyes, feeling the tense air around you. You didn’t mean to out him having a boyfriend.

“Oh, he’s just someone I’m seeing! I’m keeping it on the down low, he has a big family and we’re trying to enjoy each others time before we inevitably become the talk of the town. We’re still really in the beginning stages, if you get me.”

You nod quickly and mouth ‘sorry’ at him while you’ve got his gaze on you. Usagi does a small shrug and a smile to let you know you’re off the hook and only then is when you relax.

April nods understandingly, “I gotcha, happy to hear about him when you’re ready.” She winks and puts the frame face down where it was, “Why was this face down anyways?”

You clap and jump into action, “Perfect segue, April! To answer your question and to finally address what has been going on with that mystery guy, let me get into it because I have a physical portion of this presentation in the form of an investigation cork board.”

Sunita stares blankly, “An investigation…cork board?”

“I haven’t seen this magical cork board you’ve put together-“ Usagi starts and then is interrupted, “Yes, because I did it in the dead of night after Yoru’s party.”

Usagi starts up again, “Okay, thank you. I think she means like in that meme? With the guy in front of a cork board with clues pinned in it and the red string tying together evidence?”

“The one where the guy looks entirely manic?” April asks deadpan, her hand already making its way to her forehead to rub at her temples.

You shoo April and Sunita on the couch like you’re corralling sheep until they flop onto the couch, “Exactly! I have prepared tirelessly to have this done for you today.” You push the bridge of your glasses farther up your nose and April catches a mischievous glint in your lenses before pulling a cat laser pointer off a shelf and hold your hands behind your back ready to start your lecture.

“Do you have a cat?” Sunita squints and you shake your head, “No, I just like to have things. Anyways-“

You recount the events over the last half a year, dipping into the necessary details of the alias’ of Othello Von Ryan and Bootyyyshaker9000 (earning a very wide eyed stare from April and Sunita which you equated to the nature of the odd username, Bootyyyshaker9000 really did it for people), going into the semi-reveal, filling in tiny details here and there in terms of nuance and things you didn’t deem as important but wanted to share, your feelings you weren’t sure what to do with, the bank incident (omitting Leo, to give Usagi a privacy shield), the infamous ‘Albearto Date from Hell’ and you spilled a bit about Fearless but didn’t include what happened the night before.

“And so that’s why that photo frame is face down, Donnie doesn’t know I’m part Yokai. Now that I’m thinking of it, not many people do and that’s also why I have the frame down, not just because of him. I do have a life outside of thinking of him.” You ramble on and hold a hand up, “I know we’ve got questions but you gotta give me two seconds to pull out my presentation!”

Scrambling to the bedroom, you slam the door open, and wheel out a large cork board with pinned with various photos of Donnie and Fearless (both taken from the security camera at Rendezvous then printed out at the library), post it notes with haphazard writing and red strings connecting the various theories you had connecting the two of them.

“Oh wow, Sunita! Look at this!” April nudges her elbow hard into her friends’ ribs and Sunita coughs and catches herself from doubling over, “Oh, I am looking! I am looking with my eyes. I am seeing exactly what you’re seeing!”

“Right! So, we’re all seeing it!” you exclaim happily paired with excited flappy hands.

“Oh, okay, so you both also think he’s the same bitch? I mean, they both wear like the exact same shade of purple.” Usagi tags into the conversation, licking the whip cream off his milkshake.

The exclamation of ‘no!’ and ‘it can’t be!’ is so loud it makes you jump and almost makes you a tad suspicious. April scrambles to her feet and slams face first into the cork board and you flail to catch her and board from falling over completely. “Wuh- April!”

“They can’t be the same person,” she fumbles over her words while looking over the photos, “Because, because!”

“Because well, there isn’t any solid proof right? This is all speculation!” Sunita fans her hands out to create an imaginary rainbow in front of her. April nods and looks over the post it notes, “Okay… uh, “Donatello” has four brothers okay… that’s confirmed.” she points to some green writing beside an obnoxious check mark. Her eyes follow the red string to a blurry photo clearly taken off of a Reddit post about the infamous Yokais who saved NYC, “Okay and there’s….four of those vigilante Yokai. These don’t even go together! Trust me, I’m going to school for journalism.”

“Wait, so the only reason I out those two together is because I think the color-coded vigilante are like, a team! There’s four of them and….Donnie’s one of four brothers. Okay, I guess that one is a reach, but still!” You shrug sheepishly and change queue up the next playlist on the television. “Side note, if you’re in school for journalism, you’d be eating this up! Not to like, expose them but to crack the case! You’re supposed to live for this.”

“And the four of them order take out from Tios’! So, I guess if they were the same person, this would check out. It’s also not unheard of Yokai’s using cloaking brooches, literally Letty is one of them.” Usagi points out and comes up next to the board. You nod along in agreeance, “On top of that, Donnie does know what ‘Run of the Mill’ is, they’ve done take out there before! The Yokai vigilantes and Donnie and his brothers both frequent this spot.”

“That’s not much of a clue though, Huesos’ is one of the most, if not, the most popular Hidden City restaurant there is, aside from anything Grand Nexus franchise related. Statistically, it’s reasonable for them to be different people and both frequent the same joint.” April points out nonchalantly, eyes fixated on the board combing through the photos and writing.

“You think his name is Jonathon?” Sunita points to another post-it note swinging the conversation in a different way.

The post it in question had the word ‘Donathon?’, then underneath it ‘Jonathon? MORE LIKELY’, and then underneath that ‘Fearless’.

“I overheard one of them call him ‘Donathon’, maybe? It’s barely popularized, I checked Google. So, ‘Jonathon’ is probably much more likely. He,” pointing to the turtle Yokai, “did refuse to give me his name when he walked me home one night, under the guise of keeping his secret identity. I just call him ‘Fearless’, it’s a play on words for like, ‘fearless hero’- anyways, it’s tacky. I need everyone to keep their thoughts to themselves, okay.” Muttering under your breath you fight the urge to cross out the silly nickname yourself to avoid the laughs. You consider yourself lucky no one bats an eye at your embarrassment while you busy yourself in the kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea.

“It totally makes sense if Donnie and Fearless are the same person that ‘Fearless’ wouldn’t want to give you his actual name since then he’d out himself as Donnie!” Usagi points out.

“Okay, well why would he lie about being a mutant? That doesn’t make sense.” April prods.

Groaning you run your palms over your face, “How would I know!? I wouldn’t put it past him at this point because he was super against us ever meeting in person, which is a point in the direction of ‘he’s a Yokai in disguise’.”

“The purple thing isn’t a clue either, have you guys ever heard of The Purple Dragons? They also wear this shade of purple exactly. It could just be a really popular color. Maybe it’s this years Pantone color? I’d probably dispute this clue too.” Sunita rubs her chin thoughtfully and squints at the board.

Usagi makes his way towards you and with his back facing your friends and he lifts his hand in front of his chest and does a thumbs up. Your eye flicker over to April and Sunita and ensure they’re still preoccupied, and you give him one back and it cues him to start signing.

‘A bit sus, they think every clue is wrong’

‘Agree, maybe she knows them? Keeping their identities secret.’

Usagi is beside you and quirks his brow at you, “So, do either of you think any of the clues on there point to them being the same person? Or are you going to keep protecting him?” Your eyes widen and you nudge him with your elbow, and you thought you were the spicy one.

“We’re not ‘protecting’ anyone, if we’re going to accuse someone two people of being the same person, the evidence needs to be rock solid.” April retorts back earnestly and shares a glance with Sunita that you can’t quite place the intention behind.

“Fearless was here the other night because I needed alterations for an outfit since I was going out,”

“I knew someone was here!” Usagi shoves you hard and gently smacks the back of your head.

“Yeah, okay! Anyways, he was here. And he walked around my apartment like he’d already been here. He picked a coaster off the top of my fridge, the most ridiculous place to keep them, and mind you, no one has ever come close to guessing where they are coming in here the first time. Explain that?” crossing your arms over your chest you make your way over to the fridge, then pick up your stack of coasters.

“He looks pretty tall from these photos, I think? If he’s as tall as Usagi, he probably was able to see it. And he’s a ninja!” Sunita points out stubbornly.

“He fixed my dishwasher and I didn’t even mention to him that it was broken. But I did mention it to Donnie a few weeks back. He did mention he noticed there were dishes everywhere so he took it upon himself to fix it but, seriously! That’s still weird, right!?” you felt like you were grasping at straws, you look to Usagi, “The night of the date, he kept disappearing then reappearing, and his clothes we’re always messed up. Like he kept getting undressed and re-dressed or something. That’s some Superman-type shit, don’t you think!?”

“Yeah! I mean, if he is a hero, it would make sense that maybe he was ‘on duty’ or something?” Usagi points out heatedly, his ears twitched as he narrowed his eyes at the pair across the room. The tension in the air had gone stale and the sugary sweet food you’d been eating sat heavy in your gut. Maybe this was a bad idea? You’d already hallucinated that Donnie liked you, it was entirely possible you had also made up this whole thing about the two of them being the same person.

“He might’ve been meeting with someone else?” Sunita suggested with a weary shrug as she looked over at April who opened her mouth a few times and closed it, “Uh yeah! M-maybe another girl or?” her expression is wide eyed, and she grimaces next before continuing, “No, wait! Uh, like in a friendly way! Not like sexy-friendly, like, just regular friendly!”

The statement knocks the wind out of you, and you’re unprepared for how hard your lungs grasp for oxygen. You never considered it. He wouldn’t do that to you. Would he?

“Ah, okay, time-out, this completely derailed itself.” Usagi pressed his fingers firmly into your back and rubs to ground you but it does little to your reeling mind as memories flood behind your eyes as you try and replay any and all of them, and Donnie’s been consistently inconsistent, with many things. The option of him being there for someone else was now on the table.

Doubt sowed itself deep within your bones, you were now extremely uncertain of Donnie and if your theory was even plausible that Fearless and him were the same person. Should you award Fearless with kindness at this point if you were to run into him again? You couldn’t shake the familiarity of Fearless but you supposed there wasn’t much basis to your ‘evidence’ aside from coincidences thus far.

You don’t know when April crosses into the kitchen and a feather light touch finds your shoulder, “I’m sure Donnie is a great guy, and he wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just got ahead of myself, I’m sorry. I’m a skeptic at heart… journalism and everything.” She finished lamely but you can hear the remorse in her voice, every word laced with guilt and concern.

Usagi pulls you closer to him and that is effective in having April let up on your shoulder. She reads the social cue and takes a step back. Before she can retreat too far, you link arms with her, “Thanks April, I know you’re just looking out for me. And you’re right, we need more solid evidence before we accuse them of being the same person. I feel like there’s a lot to comb over… we can rehash another night?” Usagi’s grip is still tight, and you can tell by the flex of his fingers he wants to pull you away from April and you give him a few light taps on his person and he relaxes slightly.

“Let’s rehash next time.” Sunita says encouragingly. You don’t know when she’s made it over to you but she rests her chin on your shoulder so it’s nestle between yours and Aprils. Nodding you untangle your limbs and take a sip of cold tea, it was unsatisfying and bitter.

“Well!”, April claps her hands once with finality, “saw you have a Switch, are we playing Smash or what?”

There’s more chatter and Usagi gives your side a squeeze before heading over to the television. The pit in your stomach hadn’t gone away, and the person you wanted comfort from was also the reason the pit exist in the first place.

Feet carry you to the living room and you plop yourself behind Usagi, your legs circling his and you rest your cheek against him. The view is mostly obscured but you can make out the tiny characters fighting over his shoulder and you feel a gentle purr reverberate through your chest, warmth flooding your senses.

“Up for a round?” Sunita holds out the controller for you with a tentative smile. Snorting you snatch it from her with a playful glare, “I’m going to beat your ass, babe.”

Usagi laughs and it’s familiar and soothing and he smells a bit like Leo, but he’s still him and you suppose that’s all the comfort you could wish for right now.

TBC

A/N : sorry for the long awaited update! i needed to sort out how this fic was going to end with its reveal etc and so it took me a bit longer just so i could TRY and avoid plot holes with the upcoming next few chapters (: i do have the next one ready and i’ll be putting it in queue to upload in about 1-2 weeks! <3 please enjoy!!

taglist: @maribatshipper @goldenpanda16 @moonlightmarauder @samilucas67

#rise donnie x reader #tmnt donatello #donatello #Rise Donatello #rise donatello x reader #rise donnie x oc #rise of the tmnt #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #the cloaking brooch dilemma tmnt

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