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hoperays-song · 1 year

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Promotional Art Assigned Colors

So, in Sing 2, we see each character illuminated in a certain color. This means that the characters are assigned colors in terms of what they’ll be associated with!

However, when compared to the colors associated with the characters in the first movie (thanks Wiki), we see that some are actually the same.

This means that the characters are assigned colors in terms of what they’ll be associated with! And since I am slightly obsessed with symbolism, I will be breaking down what each color means! Enjoy!

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Character’s and the Colors

Buster: Navy Blue

Positive Associations: Loyalty, Trustworthy, and Authority.

Negative Associations: Sadness, Depression, and Pervasiveness.

Rosita: Pink to Light Blue

Positive Associations (Pink): Nurturing and Unconditional Love.

Negative Associations (Pink): Opposites and Passivity.

Positive Associations (Light Blue): Reliability and Calm.

Negative Associations (Light Blue): Sensitivity and Melancholy.

Ash: Red

Positive Associations: Courage, Passion, and Drive.

Negative Associations: Rebellious, Resentment, and Quick-Tempered.

Johnny: Teal

Positive Associations: Creativity, Open-Mindedness, and Clarity.

Negative Associations: Private, Apprehensive, and Stand-Offish.

Meena: Light Blue to Light Purple

Positive Associations (Light Blue): Reliability and Calm.

Negative Associations (Light Blue): Sensitivity and Melancholy.

Positive Associations (Light Purple): Light-Hearted and Romantic.

Negative Associations (Light Purple): Emotional and Over-Vigilant.

Mike (only in Sing 1): Maroon

Positive Associations: Depth, Passion, and Strong-Willed.

Negative Associations: Arrogant, Moody, and Unpredictable.

Gunter: Gold

Positive Associations: Optimism and Confidence.

Negative Associations: Materialistic and Flashy.

Mrs. Crawly: Lime Green to Magenta

Positive Associations (Lime Green): Nature, Confidence, and Energy.

Negative Associations (Lime Green): Ambition, Inconsideration, and Envy.

Positive Associations (Magenta): Cheery and Loving.

Negative Associations (Magenta): Impatient and Domineering.

Nana Noodleman: Dark Purple to Emerald

Positive Associations (Dark Purple): Intellect, Dignity, and Creativity.

Negative Associations (Dark Purple): Pomposity, Conceit, and Mourning.

Positive Associations (Emerald): Abundance, Prosperity and Growth.

Negative Associations (Emerald): Materialism, Envy, and Possessive.

Clay Calloway: Green

Positive Associations: Prosperity, Balance, and Hope.

Negative Associations: Judgmental, Envy, and Stagnant.

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Can we talk about how well these fit? Like it’s amazing how well.

Buster is the troupe leader and his color symbolizes authority. But, it also symbolizes pervasiveness, like how Buster’s problems affect all areas of his life.

Rosita’s shift from pink to light blue between movies is her ditching her more passive attitude that was in the first film. The blue does show how reliable she is in terms of within the troupe, she’s the one everyone depends on.

Ash being red makes the most sense to me due not only to her rebellious nature but her drive and passion. And this is only shown more in Sing 2 by her making her own music career.

Johnny is very much the creative of his family, like the colour teal would suggest, and I’m sure that Marcus would describe his son as stand-offish. Johnny also appears to be pretty private and introverted so it does fit him well.

Meena’s colour palate shows off her roles in the two movies. In the first she was the calm to Buster’s impulsivity in the stage crew and in the second she was focused more on herself and her romantic storyline with Alfonso.

Mike’s just fits. He’s very much arrogant through-out the first movie but is also shown to be very passionate about singing and music.

Gunter is described as flashy by pretty much everything, including a shiny gold tracksuit. However, he is very confident in his abilities and is very much the optimistic one of the troupe.

Mrs. Crawly fits much better as magenta to be completely honest. She is the grandmother of the group and adores them all but can become more forceful and domineering as the stage crew in Sing 2 learned.

Nana Noodleman is a reflection of the theatre itself when it comes to her associated colours. At first she was almost mourning the past and the wonder that it once was, but by the second movie she was wearing green of prosperity for the troupe.

Clay Calloway’s associated colour being green did surprise me at first before I checked the meaning. Clay acts as a symbol of hope and prosperity for the troupe and he was shown to have become stagnant in his life.

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the-red-mafia · 8 months

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The Game

A morning video game session goes sour when the video game Maroon got turns out to be cursed. Now, the team is separated inside of it with no way home. Will they be able to find each other, or will they be stuck there forever? Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia Next Update: [Updated] Word Count: 3423

2 weeks after “The Prince”

Maroon pushed Thorn down onto the couch in between Mad and Solana. Ae looked up at aer friend with a confused look, adjusting the light pink sweater ae were borrowing from Maroon.

“Maroon, what’s going on?” Solana chuckled.

“They didn’t fill you in?” Thorn shook his head.

“Maroon recently got a new video game from Zaeor,” Mad began, crossing one of their legs over the other, “They didn’t tell us what it is, but they want all of us to play it together.” The older teen smirked.

“Alright, a video game challenge, then. You’re on, Mar-Mar.” Maroon smiled at their friend.

“We’re just waiting on Velvet.” Mad’s screen displayed a question mark, drawing the younger teen’s attention towards it.

“Maroon, do you remember what happened last time you tried to get Velvet to play video games?” Maroon nodded but crossed their arms.

“Yes, but this time it’ll be different. It’s not rainbow road levels of difficulty, so-”

“I hope I didn’t just hear what I think I just heard.” Maroon quickly turned to the doorway of the living room, where Velvet now stood. Her red zip-up covered most of the skull-patterned tank top she was wearing underneath it. The younger teen shook their head.

“We’re not playing Mario Kart, I promise.”

“Good, ‘cause I was going to walk away.”

“Please don’t, it’ll be fun!” Velvet glanced at their teammates lined up on the couch. Solana was still in their pyjama pants and tank top, their hair tied up in a messy bun. He looked like he had just been dragged out of bed by a certain excited teenager. Mad was in their blue jean jacket paired with a grey shirt and white skirt, much more put together than the elf next to it.

“And…what exactly are we playing again?” they asked, crossing their arms. Maroon smiled and quickly disappeared into the kitchen. Velvet raised an eyebrow. Solana let out a quiet chuckle and scooted closer to Thorn.

“Come on, take a seat Velvie.” She rolled her eyes but obliged. When Maroon emerged from the kitchen, they were gripping a video game box in their hands and blocking the label.

“Where were you hiding that?” Mad questioned, “I didn’t see it when I was making breakfast.” Maroon shrugged and took the disc out of the box. Velvet leaned forward as they placed the box upside down.

“What’s with all the secrecy, Mar-Mar?” Thorn called out.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Well, yeah, but we’re gonna see it in a few seconds anyways.” Maroon scooped the five controllers in their arms, returning to the couch and handing them out one by one.

“It’s more fun this way.” Thorn laughed.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

“This better not be something stupid,” Velvet muttered, “I have things I could be doing.”

“Like what, drama queen?” Solana joked, holding down his controller’s power button. Velvet glared at them.

“Research. Training. Literally anything else.”

“Oh come on, you’re a nerd.”

“I am not.” Maroon plopped down on the couch in between Thorn and Mad, remote in hand. They navigated through the various menus until they clicked on a rainbow-coloured icon. After a few seconds of blackness, a loud whirring sound came from the TV.

“Is that…a part of the game?” Solana asked, turning to Maroon. The teen stared at the screen before shaking their head. Mad began to stand, but a loud laugh stopped them in their tracks. Before anyone could move, a bright light enveloped the room.

Thorn instinctively closed its eyes until it felt the couch disappear from underneath it. Their back slammed onto some kind of floor, knocking the wind out of them. Ae gasped for air for a few moments until ae slowly sat up and forced aer eyes open.

Gone was the familiar red of the Mahogany Mansion’s living room, now replaced with ugly yellow wallpaper covered in grey flowers. The air was stale, smelling of mold and dirt. A hallway stretched in front of them, a few more coming off of it as well. He quickly jumped to his feet.

“Guys? Anyone there?” it called out. A loud thud came from down the hallway, followed by a loud groan.

“Fucking hell,” Thorn heard Velvet yell. The older teen took off down the hallway, turning down one of the offshoots to find her slowly sitting up on the ground. They jumped a little when Thorn arrived.

“Shit- Where are we?” they asked, standing.

“No idea, I figured you’d know.”

“Well, I don’t. Have you seen the others?” He shook his head, causing Velvet to groan again.

“Perfect, just perfect,” they muttered, “Exactly how I wanted to spend my Friday morning. Thanks, Maroon!”

“W-who said that?” A voice called out. Thorn glanced at Velvet.

“Maroon?”

“Maroon.” The duo ran back into the hallway. Velvet pulled a small throwing knife out of a small pouch attached to her belt. Thorn stared at them.

“Since when did you have that?” Velvet rolled her eyes.

“Since I woke up, frūx. You just don’t pay attention.” Ahead of them, Maroon’s head popped out from behind a wall.

“Velvet, Thorn!” They slowed in front of them, Thorn pulling them into a hug.

“You okay, mushroom?”

“Y-yeah.”

“What the hell have you gotten us into, Maroon?” Velvet demanded, crossing her arms. Maroon looked towards the ground.

“I-I didn’t know this would happen, I thought we were all just going to have fun playing the new Johnny Darlington game and-” The assassin cut them off with a loud groan.

“Really? Johnny Darlington game?”

“Y-yeah I thought it’d be f-fun.”

“So, does that mean we’re in the game?” Thorn asked, gesturing around them, “Because this doesn’t look very Johnny Darlington-core to me.” Velvet narrowed their eyes at him.

“It doesn’t look very what?”

“Johnny Darlington-core.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means it’s not very Johnny Darlington-core.” She groaned again before turning back to Maroon.

“What’s supposed to happen in the game?” Maroon looked at them.

“It’s supposed to be a team game where you work together to help Johnny Darlington escape a maze. Although, I don’t think it’s supposed to look like this.”

“Because it’s not Johnny Darlington-core.”

“Thorn, I am going to throw you into a reactor core if you don’t shut the fuck up.” Maroon laughed nervously, carefully stepping in between their friends.

“Anyways-” they began, looking between the two of them, “Shouldn’t we find Mad and Solana?” Velvet’s eyes widened.

“Fuck, right. Solana! Mad!” The group went silent for several seconds but no other noise came from inside the hallways. Maroon turned to Velvet.

“W-where are they?”

Mad looked around the small room Solana and them were standing in. They glanced at the elf.

“Did you hear something?” it asked. Solana shook her head.

“No, did you?”

“I thought I did, but I’m probably just hearing things.” The elf raised an eyebrow.

“Can you even hear things that aren’t real? That feels counterintuitive.” Mad shrugged.

“I don’t think it was in my original programming, so it must be a soul thing.”

“Huh, interesting…” A smile appeared on their screen.

“Anyways, enough about me,” it began, “We should find Maroon, Thorn, and Velvet.” Solana nodded before stifling a laugh. Mad’s screen flipped to a question mark.

“What?”

“Pfft- just, we’re off to hunt down the angsty teens.” Mad chuckled.

“True, although I’m not sure I’d call Maroon and Thorn ‘angsty’.”

“Really? They’re still pretty angsty, just in a different way than Velvet is.”

“I guess…wait. If they’re the ‘angsty teens’, what’re we?” Solana paused for a minute.

“Well, I’m obviously the cool, criminal uncle,” she started, earning a chuckle from the droid, “And you…are the very tired dad of the group.” Mad’s question mark flickered slightly. Solana let out a laugh.

“Or mom. Whichever you prefer.”

“W-why me?” The elf leaned up against one of the yellow-print walls.

“I mean, you are the one who makes sure we all don’t kill each other.” They laughed again as Mad’s screen went blank before they stood up fully again.

“Any luck with calling any of them?” Mad stared at him for a second before shaking their TV.

“I imagine some kind of magic is involved. I think we got teleported into the game,” it said, a frown appearing on the screen, “But…why would Zaeor…” Solana raised an eyebrow.

“Why would he what?”

“Nothing, nevermind. Where do you think the teens could be?” Solana looked up and down the hallway.

“No idea, but we should start walking around. We’re not gonna find them standing here.”

“True.” A crash echoed through the halls, causing the duo to stop in their tracks. It was followed by a loud, shrill scream. Solana turned to look at Mad’s blank screen.

“Was that a kid?” The assistance droid stared towards the source of the noise.

“I think so.” Solana cracked his knuckles.

“Well, what’re we waiting for?”

It took a few minutes for Thorn to calm their friend down, all of which Velvet spent leaning against the yellow wall, thinking. Thoughts ran through their head like wildfire, despite the blank expression their teammates saw.

This is definitely some kind of magic, she thought, taking a deep breath, Although, I’m not sure what spell could cause something like this. A curse, maybe? But why would someone waste time cursing some stupid video game? No…something’s wrong. But what?

“V-Velvet?” Maroon’s quiet voice brought the assassin back to reality. They looked up and locked eyes with them.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” Velvet narrowed her eyes at them but sighed.

“Yeah, fine. Just thinking.”

“So do you know what’s going on now?” Thorn chimed in, crossing his arms. Velvet shrugged.

“Partially. My best guess is the game was somehow cursed, no idea how. If it’s a curse, then we’ll have to find the catalyst.”

“Catalyst? What does that mean?”

“It’s basically just the object the spellcaster puts the magic to maintain the spell in,” the teen replied, standing, “It’s probably the game disc itself, but I don’t know how we’re gonna access that here.”

“Maybe there’s a physical apparition inside the game?” Maroon asked.

“I mean, it’s possible.”

“So we just find this catalyst and break it, then we can go home?” Velvet looked at Thorn.

“We’ll have to find Mad and Solana first, but yeah.”

“What are we doing standing around, then? Let’s find this thing.” Thorn took a step forward, but Velvet quickly pulled it back.

“Hold on a second. I doubt our being here is the only effect the curse has on the game, that’d be a waste of a curse. We have absolutely no idea what we’re up against right now.”

“When do we ever, Velvet? What’s the worst that can happen?” Velvet let out a strained laugh and crossed her arms.

“I have a guess. Try using your powers, either of you.” The two teens looked at each other before both raising a hand. After a few moments, nothing happened. Thorn’s eyes widened as he looked down at his hand.

“W-what?” Maroon mumbled. Velvet sighed.

“Just as I thought. Whoever put this curse on the game completely cancelled any other magic.”

“And that means?” Thorn demanded.

“It means our powers won’t work,” Maroon said quietly, lowering their hand, “And they won’t work until we leave.” Velvet nodded. She reached into her small pouch and pulled out another throwing knife. They handed one to Thorn and Maroon before pulling out another for themself. Thorn stared down at the pitch-black blade.

“It’s not much, but it’s something,” Velvet began, spinning their knife on one of their fingers, “Hopefully you don’t have to use them. Stay behind me and keep up.” Maroon nodded, but Thorn didn’t move. Velvet narrowed her eyes at him.

“Thorn?” they called out. Their teammate snapped back to reality, quickly looking up.

“What?”

“Were you even listening?” Thorn glanced at Maroon before chuckling.

“Nah, your voice nearly put me to sleep.”

“I swear to gods-” the assassin paused, “Whatever. Let’s move.”

“Got it, drama queen.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Not a chance.”

There were a few things Mad expected when it and Solana turned the next corner. One of them was more winding halls, complete with ugly yellow wallpaper and seemingly water-damaged carpet. Maybe even a child in the corner, scared out of their mind. What they definitely didn’t expect was Johnny Darlington, gripping a kitchen knife in his right hand. Mad pulled Solana to a stop as a twisted smile overtook the boy’s face.

“What the fuck…” Solana breathed.

“Why hello there~” the character called out, raising his weapon, “Welcome to my…game.” The blade flew through the air, flying right over Solana’s head as he ducked.

“Shit,” they mumbled. Mad quickly turned around and grabbed their friend’s arm. It took off back down the hallway, Darlington’s footsteps and laugh echoing behind them.

“What the fuck?” Solana shouted. Mad glanced at her before groaning.

“Of course, how could I not see that?” Solana glared at them.

“See what, Mad?”

“Whatever magic brought us here must’ve messed with the game’s code. All the puzzles and NPCs-”

“Mad, 3 words or less.” The elf pulled them around a corner as another knife soared past their TV.

“Um, okay. Uh…everything is wrong.”

“Great,” she said sarcastically, “Exactly what I was worried you’d say.” A knife sliced through one of Solana’s pyjama pants, causing the elf to let out a string of curses.

“Are you okay?” Mad asked.

“Yeah, fine,” he replied, “These are just my favourite.”

“They are good pants.”

“Why thank you, Mad-” Another blade flew in between the duo, cutting her off. Solana let out a strained laugh.

“Right, that.” They quickly turned another corner, but Solana began to slow. Mad stared at her.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s…a dead end,” they muttered in between breaths. Mad stopped as well, their screen going blank as more shrill laughter echoed behind them. The droid glanced down towards the yellow wall blocking their way. Solana turned the other way, quickly raising their hands.

“Solana, wait.” The elf looked back at them.

“What?”

“There’s a bat by the wall.” His eyes lit up as he quickly spun and sprinted down the hallway. Mad followed suit, Darlington’s laughs getting louder and louder behind them. The elf snatched the metal bat off of the ground, a wild grin overtaking her face.

“Perfect,” she breathed, swinging it in the air, “Hey, Darlington! Let’s dance!”

Maroon let the knife sit gently in their left hand as the other two teens led the way down the hallway. Velvet and Thorn were silent ahead of them. Velvet stared at the various tears and markings on the walls, seemingly trying to decipher the language. Thorn, on the other hand, was strolling with his hands in his pockets. Marook looked between them, nearly running into Velvet when she stopped walking. She quickly balanced them as Thorn turned around to look at them.

“Can you guys hear that?” the assassin muttered. Thorn raised an eyebrow.

“Hear what?”

“It’s a buzzing, almost like that buzz Mad makes sometimes.” Maroon straightened out their glasses.

“Do you think Mad’s around?” they asked. Velvet shook their head.

“No. That’d be too easy.” Thorn rolled his eyes.

“Sure, mhm. Of course.” Velvet ignored it and took a left down a hallway. Maroon hurried after her, Thorn following behind. As they walked, a quiet buzzing soon filled Maroon’s ears.

“I hear it now. What do you think it is?” Maroon asked.

“Nothing good.”

“Helpful,” Thorn muttered. The group turned another corner as the noise hummed loudly around them. A bright, neon green light quickly enveloped the trio. Maroon shut their eyes tightly and grabbed onto one of Thorn’s hands. A loud thud echoed loudly, causing the teens to jump. A cold breeze flew through the area.

The light slowly faded away, allowing Maroon to open their eyes once again. The ugly wallpaper had been replaced with dark grey concrete blocks stacked on top of one another. The entrance was gone, with a solid wall now in its place. Another cold wind blew through the chamber, hissing as it went by. Thorn shivered next to them.

“What is this place?” Ae asked. Velvet turned to look at them.

“My guess is it’s another level in the game.”

“But don’t you have to, you know, do something to advance?”

“Maybe the curse did it,” Maroon chimed in, “If we got too close to the catalyst…” Velvet’s eyes widened slightly before she let out a groan.

“Of course. The curse wouldn’t want us to break it.”

“Um…not exactly.” Velvet quickly turned and threw their knife towards the new voice. A squeak echoed as Maroon and Thorn raised theirs. In tje blink of an eye, Velvet drew two more blades from their bag.

“Wait, please! I brought you here!” Velvet kept the knives raised but glanced at Maroon.

“This is Darlington, right?” Maroon’s eyes widened.

“What?” The assassin stepped to the side, revealing the body of a middle-school-aged boy slumped against the wall. Velvet’s red and black blade pinned the fabric of his blue polo shirt to the…concrete?

Maroon took a step towards Johnny Darlington. The boy flinched but Maroon placed their hand on the wall. Instead of cold concrete, it was soft and pushed inwards.

“Is this…foam?” they asked, looking down at Johnny. He nodded profusely. Maroon kneeled down and gently pulled the knife out. They tossed it back to Velvet, who promptly caught it and placed it back in the bag. Maroon held a hand out to Johnny. The boy glanced at Velvet and Thorn before taking it.

“Are you okay?” Maroon asked. Johnny stared at them for several seconds and quickly shook his head.

“I’m fine, but you guys won’t be. You need to get out of here.” Velvet raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” Thorn asked, “What’s going on?”

“The game is cursed-”

“No fucking shit, I had no idea,” Velvet mumbled.

“-There’s another me running around, but he’s trying to kill everyone. You have to leave.”

“We can’t,” Velvet interrupted, “We can’t leave until we break the curse.” Johnny’s eyes widened.

“That’s not possible.”

“Johnny, have you ever heard this…alternate you talk about a curse catalyst?” Maroon questioned. The boy was quiet for a moment.

“Yes, but-”

“Take us to it.” Johnny turned to Velvet as she crossed her arms.

“What?”

“You hear me. Take us to it so we can destroy it.”

“He’ll kill you. I won’t be able to stop him.”

“Does it look like I care?”

“My magic- I won’t be able to-”

“What happened to your magic?” Maroon chimed in, stepping in between Velvet and Johnny. Velvet glared at them.

“It’s not working, I’m not sure why. But the point is, I have no way to protect you. I can’t, in good conscience, let you face him. I’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

“Listen, Darlington-” Velvet began, but the boy cut her off.

“Please, Velvet, just call me Johnny.” Velvet raised a knife again, narrowing their eyes at him.

“How do you know my name?” He smiled at them.

“I know the names of everyone who’s ever watched my show.” Maroon’s eyes widened.

“So you know-”

“Yes, Maroon. I know your name.” The youngest teen’s eyes lit up and a smile appeared on their face.

“Do I want to know how that works?” Velvet mumbled, lowering the weapon.

“I have a guess,” Thorn began, “Magic.”

“I hate you.”

“Feeling’s mutual.”

“Guys…” Maroon said quietly. Thorn glanced at their friend before letting out a sigh.

“Right, sorry.”

“Sorry. Johnny, can you take us to the catalyst now?” Velvet asked. The boy looked up at her again.

“I told you-”

“We can handle ourselves, Johnny,” Maroon added, “We’re not going to die.”

“You have no idea-” Thorn walked up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Johnny, everyone here is in danger. If you can just take us to the catalyst, we can save everyone here.” The boy looked between each of the members of the Red Mafia before sighing.

“I…okay. Fine. But you have to promise me you won’t die. Please.”

“Oh my gods, we’re not gonna die,” Velvet groaned, “Just take us there already.” Johnny reached out and grabbed Maroon’s hand. He pushed Thorn’s off of his shoulder and grabbed it as well. Velvet raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?” she asked. Johnny smiled at them.

“Teleporting. Grab on.” Velvet let out another groan and stepped towards Maroon, taking their other hand. In a blink of an eye, the four of them were gone.

#/the red mafia #/trm part 4 #/chapter 042 #/the game #/maroon #/maroon pembrooke #/thorn alviar #/mad valentine #/solana #/solana roison #/velvet #/velvet bolton #/johnny darlington

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kfrances · 1 year

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mess hall

#what happened to ur pride geki #johnny and thicket #shigeki johnny harvey #shigemi thicket harvey #robert maroon #yea. that guy has a name. i hate that fucker. youll see him eventually

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enteringdullsville · 10 months

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Just some darker color Drewmans

#dullsville #it’s color theory #color theory #ict #character design #original character #artists on tumblr #prunella disdanis #forrest macha #ivan gabell #aaron chesterson #johnny zhise #maya fuj #plum #forest green #navy blue #maroon #mustard yellow #chocolate

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 3 months

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It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 5 ] || [ Chapter 7 ]

Pairing: Price x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.4K~ cw: firing guns, i guess (but John's teaching you). Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 6: John.

You crossed the entrance to the small pub, head held high, in your most honest attempt at feigning confidence.

After you had accepted, jokingly, to meet with this ‘Captain John’, only as an opportunity to roast the three men behind the account some more, Kyle had reached out to you, through John’s account, saying he also accepted and wanted to meet you today, Friday night, at 8 P.M.

You almost backed out.

Keyword, almost.

Because when you went to your groupchat to ask for support from them, your girlfriends encouraged you.

You almost set a Siri reminder to get better friends.

Either way, you have to admit that it feels… better to meet up John. Your heart is still a bit sore, the wound of heartbreak still struggling to swell closed…

Meeting with Simon or Kyle or Johnny would’ve meant rehashing it. You couldn’t risk getting attached to them after a night of casual sex. But there’s no expectations here… John is older than you, than them. This is just drinks, according to Kyle. He had insisted, in fact, that it be just drinks.

It felt more comforting to know you weren’t expected to go home with him at the end… Even though he’s handsome enough that you wouldn’t exactly refuse had your heart not been in its current state.

So, here you are. You keep his Tinder profile open on your phone, like it has been since you left the house, trying to memorize his features so that when you spot him, you recognize him instantly.

In a way, this feels like a blind date… And it’s strangely exciting.

You spot him from the door the moment your eyes scan the room. He’s at a table in the far corner, his back against the wall, taking up a bar stool. You stop by the bar before making your way over, getting yourself a drink.

You’re not sure if he’s spotted you, if he knows who you are. So you take the time to get a proper look at him that isn’t through a grainy picture on your phone.

He’s about as wide as he is tall and his forearms are covered in hair (“built like a bear”, check.). He’s got a tumbler of ambar liquid in front of him, you can infer it’s whiskey (“likes Whiskey”, check.). His beard is a bit thicker than in the pictures you were sent, and he looks knackered, his eyes surrounded by heavy dark circles.

He sits with his back straight, however his head hangs low and he keeps looking around through his eyebrows like he’s suspicious of everyone. His legs are spread, heels hooked on the footrest of the stool, the jeans he wears clinging tight to his strong thighs. His hands hang limply between them. He’s wearing a maroon button-up atop a white crewneck t-shirt, the sleeves rolled up to show a black watch on his left wrist.

In short, he’s handsome. And does not look his age.

Stopping in front of the table, you offer him a smile. “John?” You ask, as if you don’t already know it’s you.

He seems to finally notice you, and his harsh face softens with a smile that scrunches his nose.

“Hi. How are you?” He asks politely as he pulls back the stool on his right side for you. You take the seat, squirming a bit as you look for a good position.

“Can’t complain. You alright?” You return and you catch how he looks at you, up and down, his head hanging low, as he glances at you.

“What are you drinking?” He asks.

“Oh, just… a Sprite.” You answer as you keep glancing at him.

He goes quiet and nods, looking away for a moment, giving you every indication that he’s not interested in being here.

“I get it, you know.” You say after a beat of long, strenuous silence.

John’s blue eyes immediately flitter over to you, eyebrows raised in confusion.

“Get what?” He asks with a mix of confusion and disdain in him.

“Being forced to go out… Meet someone.” You explain as you sip your Sprite through the black straw the bartender gave you.

“Oh, really?” He retorts as he leans his left elbow on the round table and swivels to look over at you.

“Oh, yeah.” You say with a nod. “Recovering from a break-up.” You tell him. “My friends put me up to the whole… dating app-get laid thing. So, I get it. It’s… awkward.” You add.

“Hm.” He says with a nod and presses his lips together a bit, as if conceding to you.

“We don’t have to make this a whole thing, if you don’t want to.” You tell him and smile a bit. “I can leave, if you’d like. Or you can.” You offer, noticing how his eyes soften a little.

“No… it’s alright…” He tells you. His eyes slip away from you and he looks down at his lap, blinking a little. He seems… a bit lost in thought. He goes quiet again.

“Okay, then.” You say simply. “I just figured you needed a distraction, you know… Your lads were complaining about you being stressed…” You add, your eyes stuck on him, to try and spot his reaction.

He curls his fists closed and then uncurls them, running his clammy palms over his jeans for a moment. Then, he inhales sharply before slapping his hands on his thighs and turning to you swiftly.

“You ever shot a gun before?” He asks you, causing your brows to raise in surprise.

“No?” You answer, watching as he downs the rest of his whiskey and jumps down from his stool.

“C’mon. I’m teaching you.” He demands as he contours the table and helps you down, guiding you back out of the pub.

“Bend your arms about 10 degrees at the elbows.” John tells you from behind you, his big rough hands adjusting your shape with tender but determined touches.

John’s driven you to a firing club’s range just outside of London. You’ve been at this for an hour now and it’s… surprisingly fun.

You’ve yet to land a proper shot, your arms always shaking a little out of aim… But you’ve landed them in the target, which is more than you thought you were going to succeed.

“How the fuck do you handle this every day? This damn rifle is heavy, my arms hurt and we’ve only been practicing for an hour!” You tell him after firing another shot that did not land.

“Lots of practice, love.” He replies, his tone amused. He stepped up behind you, once more fixing your stance, giving little taps to your hip with one of his large hands to force you to stiffen.

John’s been trying not to snicker every time you fire. At first it was because you were flinching, but now it’s because your aim is that bad. But you don’t mind the mockery. He’s got a smile on his face, his smile lines and nose all crinkled.

“Go on, again.” He demands as he helps adjust you, his breath brushing against your ear, the warmth of his torso against your back, and his eyes above the rifle, to try and see if you’re in target. He makes some last second adjustments and then you fire.

This time it was a bull’s eye. “THERE WE GO!” You cheer for yourself and shimmy your shoulders a little while holding the rifle steady. This time, John doesn’t contain himself, and fully laughs. Deep and rich, right next to your ear, making you shiver a bit, your skin covered in goosebumps.

“Good job.” He praises you and gived you another little tap on your hip, this time, sort of catching the side of your ass. Your eyes widen a bit in surprise and you bite your lip before looking up at him.

“You’ve had enough yet?” He asks you with a cocked brow as you lower the rifle into a safe handle, pointing down and to the side.

“Depends.” You find yourself saying as he takes the rifle from you to return at the rental counter.

“On what, love?” He asks you, eyes locked on yours as you turn to face him fully. He seems to be in a much better mood.

“Me having enough of shooting…” You trail off. “Will that end the night? Are you going to drop me off at home?” You ask him.

His eyebrows raise for a bit, but then they lower and his eyes narrow as a ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Oh no, I’m taking you home, but not dropping you off. I’m spending the night with you.” He assures you.

Then, he walks off out to the armory counter, as if he hasn’t just said that.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #john price x reader

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chaosandmarigolds · 17 days

Note

Okay, HEAR ME OUT-

Johnny as the gay best friend. You and Simon have been dating for a bit, everything’s great, he loves you, you’re utterly infatuated, except for one goddamn thing that always manages to piss Simon the fuck off whenever he sees it, and that’s how close you are to his mate, Johnny. I mean, he has nothing to worry about, he met the bastard when he was drunk and hitting on him (he swears he never did that, stop lying Simon), and they’ve been inseparable ever since. But him being friends with you? Oh, that makes his blood *boil*. Going shopping? Let him join you! No, it’s okay, Johnny and the rest of the girls on going on a girl’s trip. Wanna go out clubbing? It’s not safe! But no, Johnny’s gonna be the gay best friend that acts like their boyfriend so they don’t get hit on. Simon knows he shouldn’t complain, he just can’t help it! He is grateful at the end of the day, though, because you’re with someone he knows he can trust you with. (Simon would have his head on a platter is so much as a leaf blew in your direction)

No because I agree but in my personal opinion- yeah no I was about to be like nah Johnny is bi and then I got thinking about it and it’s either he’s either 100% straight or 100% gay and I think it’s the latter- (or he’s a flaming bisexual, who knows)

And like yeah, Simon is jealous but that’s just his nature- he’s jealous of your dog if you give it your undivided attention for longer than twenty minutes- all the same, he is not ‘jealous’ of Johnny but he’s jealous ya know?

All the same, Johnny grew up with sisters and most if his friends outside of the military are women- so it’s nice

“Dior lip oil.”

Simon looks up from the catalog he was currently looking for your Christmas present in, his face contorted into confusion. “Eh?”

“I dunnae, a guy I wen’ on a date with las week had it on- tastes good.”

Scribbles down the name, “How’d the date go.”

“Eh, borin.”

—

“Okay, so this is option A,” you hold up the red cocktail dress from where you had laid out the outfits, “And I thought-“

“Yea it goes wit-what’s her faces lil hair clipy she wears.” Johnny replied, having been the judge of the outfits you were choosing for a birthday party that night.

You nod, “Masie. Yeah, but the theme is technically supposed to be maroon and I only have-“ you grab the other knit dress, a start contrast in style, “In maroon.”

Simon, who had been watching from the kitchen island chirps up, “Jus wear the red one, you like that one more.”

With a shocked expression you look to your boyfriend, “No!”

“yea, Si-“ Johnny adds in, leaning back to look at him, “S like wearing your sandals on an op, dress code.”

“Oh.”

—

(Tiny lil dibble dabble because I have too much time on my hands. Thanks for the ask! 🤍🤍)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you #coco's chaos <3 #cod x you #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #johnny cod #johnny mctavish x reader #soap imagine #soap fluff #cod soap

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ambrozjas · 4 months

Note

reader x gang request 🫶

Reader that can crochet making a sweater for the gang? (separate)

You don’t have to do and if you do, thanks 💓

the gang x reader that can crochet ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

sorry i haven’t been posting as fast lately, this one took some time and i put MUCH LOVE into these blurbs, so i hope you guys enjoy xoxo 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, alcohol, a mention of a threading needle, let me know if i missed anything though !!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“what’s this?” DARRY asked, holding up a maroon crocheted sweater that he found in a box under your bed.

your head snapped to the sweater, remembering the night you spent hunched over a table, weaving a needle delicately through the yarn, sewing them together.

“oh, uh.. it’s a sweater?” you mentally facepalmed, of course it was a sweater.

darry just chuckled and turned it around, analyzing it and every little fiber of its material.

“i mean, did you make it?” he asked, blue eyes gazing at you. your face heated up under his stare, darry always seemed to hold this forward eye contact that nobody could beat.

“yeah, made it f’you actually.” you said, continuing to iron darry’s work shirt and directing your attention to cleaning.

a silence passed between you two for maybe ten seconds before darry let out a small, “ain’t that somethin’?”

“shut up.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“hey SODAPOP, let me talk to you for a sec.” you said, walking in front of him with your hands behind your back. he was on the couch, his attention now on you rather than the television.

“what is it, darlin’?” he inquired, a smile being brought on his face just from the sight of you. the corner of your eyes crinkled as you grinned, “made’cha something.” you said.

“that so? what is it?”

you brought your hands out in front of you, only to reveal in your hands a small crocheted pony, it had a golden brown yarn for its coat and black for its mane and tail, resembling sodapop’s old horse mickey mouse.

you knew how much he loved that horse, and how devastated he was when it got sold. even if it was definitely an ornery horse. so you crocheted him a little version of his old stable pony, so they could meet again.

soda’s eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his lips downturned a bit, before he looked back up at you. “you made this?” he asked. you nodded and rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet, anticipating his reaction.

“do you.. like it?” and before you could say more, soda pulled you down onto the couch to hug you.

“‘course i like it, thank you.” he said, rubbing your back when you hugged him back.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you groaned as you rested your head on PONYBOY’s bed. you were sitting on the floor, already starting to work on a sweater for your him (although, he didn’t have to know that part), but couldn’t settle on a design.

“hey pony, can you do something for me?” you asked, craning your head to look back at your boyfriend who was laying down with a book in his hands, as usual.

“yeah sure, what is it?” he said, his head bobbing from the movement of mouth moving while his chin was on his chest.

all you did was hand him a pencil and throw him a sheepish smile, cocking your head. “what?” he asked, setting the book down and taking the pencil. “what do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

“need you to draw somethin’ for me hun.” you turn to his desk, opening one of its drawers and finding a blank sketchbook before unceremoniously tossing it to him.

“what do i draw?”

“anything.”

“well cant you—,” he paused, taking a second to look at you batting your eyelashes and pouting at him, “—fine.” he mutters, leaning over the book and sketching away.

you smiled brightly, watching him work. he glanced up at you, unable to hold back a small smile himself. because even if you didn’t realize it, he knew that you had him wrapped about your finger.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had met up with JOHNNY in the lot again, him still frazzled about his home life. it was getting too much at this point, and all he wanted to do was seek comfort in you.

you held him as his shoulder shook with silent sobs, his hand covering his mouth in order to muffle most of them, but your heart still broke as one or two came through.

“i just—,” another cry, “i just can’t anymore.” he said. johnny’s arm were wrapped around you tightly, like you’d let go at any moment and leave him.

your hand rubbed his back soothingly, occasionally coming up to his head and cradling it as if he was a baby. until he cried himself out.

after a while, you both ended up on your backs just facing the stars. you talked about stuff, dreams of moving away from tulsa or a better life. but then you remembered something.

“oh! shit..” you mumbled, sitting upright and reaching over for your bag. johnny sat up onto his elbow, looking at you in confusion. you rummaged through your bag, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth in focus before you finally found it with a little ‘aha!’ leaving your lips.

“what’s that?” he asked, watching you pull out a knitted sweater.

“it’s a sweater i made for you.” you shuffled over and handed it to him, neatly folded and smelling pretty like your house.

“if you don’t like it—“

“no.” said johnny. “i like it.” he looked up at you. god, he looked perfect. the moonlight hitting his face just right, giving him a blue hue where the light shined on him and his hair.

you did what any reasonable person would be. you grabbed johnny’s face, giving him enough space to pull away, and leaned in to kiss johnny under the moonlight.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had spent all night working on this sweater for DALLAS. you were sat at your desk with only a small dull lamp illuminating your work for you. your hands were starting to shake and you growing antsy with how long you were sat for.

dallas, as per usual, was bumming it at your house. he was next to you, laying on your bed arrogantly with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an arm behind his head.

dally watched you work, his head turned slightly where he could watch you and look around the rest of the room from his peripheral. the way you were just so focused was satisfying to him.

you tapped your foot, you wanted to take a break and lay with dallas but you knew that if you didn’t continue with the sweater, you wouldn’t wanna do it later.

finally, you sighed and smile, holding up the sweater so dally could see.

“y’know i’m not gonna wear that, right?” he said, in the middle of trying to blow a smoke ring.

you just hummed, attention mostly on putting all your supplies away instead.

“yeah you will. i know you will.”

“and how d’ya know that?” he said, turning his head all the way in your direction.

“because i speak dallas winston.” and to that, dallas scoffed and looked away, because he knew it too. he’d wear that sweater in private, but he’d never admit to anybody.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO-BIT took another swig of his booze, watching mickey mouse on television. the grainy audio traveling to the hallway where you were walking into the living room from.

“hey, look at this.” you told him, sliding up next to him on the couch. he looked at you for moment, alternating between watching the tv and you.

you showed him the crocheted sweater, hoping he would like it. his eyes were glued to your tv for a while, before you nudged him in his ribs. he shifted away and giggled a little bit, before looking down at the sweater, his lips parting in shock.

“oh m’glory baby, this is amazin’.” he slurred, taking it into his own hands and staring at it, setting down his bottle.

you leaned forward and looked at how many bottles were on the ground.

“how many drinks have you had?—“

“nevermind that! i’m looking at a masterpiece darlin’..” he said, you didn’t miss how his voice broke a little at the end.

“are you cryin’, keith?” you chuckled, putting your hand on his shoulder. he must’ve gotten a bit emotional with how many drinks he’s had.

“no! i’m just—..” he hunched over and and buried his face into the sweater, taking in the scent of your lotion faint on the yarn.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“awh, hell naw! i’m not wearin’ that!”

“yes you are! get over ‘ere!” you yelled, running after STEVE with the sweater in your hands.

he scurried away, sliding around all the hallways in order to get away from you. you two both laughed as you tried to catch him, and finally you had him cornered.

he was stuck in the corner of your room, eyes darting for any possible way out. you carefully stepped towards him, holding the sweater up by its neck. “nowhere else to go, baby. it’s time.” you grinned, before running at him.

but before you could grab him, steve charged and picked you up, throwing you onto the bed.

you squealed as he blew raspberries in your neck, laughing loudly along with you too.

“just—! just put the goddamn sweater on, will you?” you asked, trying to get through one sentence without giggling. steve held his face in your neck as he thought for a sec.

“can i get a kiss in return?” he lifted his head to look at you, flashing you those beady brown eyes and batting his eyelashes dramatically.

you placed a quick peck on his lips and did your best to push him off of you, throwing the sweater so it’d land on his face. “now put it on.” you laughed softly, and with that laugh, steve would’ve done anything.

when soda came over later that day though, he definitely took notice.

“wow steve, very fashionable today.”

“shut th’fuck up, man!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ eeek!!! sorry this took so long, all the of gang hcs take me a bit, love :( but i like how this turned out! sorry that sodapop was the only one that didn’t involve a sweater, i just thought it’d be a cute idea 😭🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #greasers #fanfiction #x reader #darry curtis x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #johnny cade x reader #dallas winston x reader #two bit mathews x reader #steve randle x reader #ambrozjas #kiss kiss

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hearts4golbach · 4 months

Note

if you do requests can you do any Johnnie Gulibert x fem reader fluff please 🙏🙏

Somethin’ Stupid.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

sorry if this isn’t fluffy enough, i had this idea and song stuck in my head and thought it’d be perfect!

Johnnie sat in the living room on his phone as we waited for Jake and Tara to come over. the four of us frequently had dinner together, at least once a week. this week was at me and Johnnie's shared apartment. it was small but cozy. the faded maroon couch creaked as I plopped down next to him.

"You gonna help me cook? I was thinking we could make, like, lasagna or something. I don't know, I want pasta." I rambled, running my fingers along his tattoos.

"Of course," he kissed my forehead before checking the time on his phone. "it's only 3, they won't be here until 5:30."

"Well, yeah. i was thinking we could make everything from scratch. I know you're not a huge person on cooking, but it'd be fun if we did it together." I say shyly.

"you really trust me in that fucking kitchen?" he laughed, "I'd probably burn this place to the ground."

"yeah, right." I roll my eyes and stand up, gripping his arm in an attempt to pull him up. "Come onnn!" I whined, "we have all of the ingredients and everything."

he sighed dramatically. "fine, only because I love you."

"lazy bitch." I teased before making my way to the kitchen, johnnie not far behind me.

I listed the ingredients we needed off some random website so he could gather them. he was already moaning and groaning about how he's going to fuck it up.

"well, since I'm here, you can only fuck shit up if you try really, really hard." I tilted my head, putting my hands on my hips.

he waved his hand around. "whatever you say. let's do this shit authentic, dump the flour straight on the counter."

"johnnie, do no -" before I could protest, he had dumped a cup of flower onto the counter. "I'm not fucking cleaning that up."

johnnie giggled and finished putting the correct amount of flour into our freshly cleaned counters. “okay, maybe we should mix the wet ingredients in a bowl first and not dump them on the counter like an idiot.” I rolled my eyes.

he fluffed his hair. "but that's so boring."

"at least it's somewhat practical. also, I hope you remember what has happened on that counter between us, just saying." I grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet. his face flushed light pink as he smiled. "wanna mix?" I handed him the whisk after I had put all of the wet ingredients in.

as he mixed, I cleaned up after him. I grabbed the flour and began to walk back towards the cabinet whenever johnnie moved and bumped into me, causing flour to go all over my face and stick. "...johnnie!" I scolded.

he whipped around and laughed at the sight. "sorry, babe." he cheezed.

"not funny, get me a towel or something. be a good boyfriend." I pestered, attempting to seem angry but not being able to manage it. i let out a laugh as i looked at myself through the reflection of the microwave. i watched as johnnie wet a towel before coming over to me and wrapping his arm around my waist. he pulled me close and began to wipe off my face. “thanks, baby.” i smiled, pecking his lips before pulling away and getting back to work.

he finished mixing and looked at me for permission to dump the shit on the counter. i rolled my eyes once more and nodded, “go ahead. it’s too late now.”

he giddily dumped the wet ingredients on the table, clapping and acting like a child with excitement. he began to mix everything with his hands and i helped him. “this feels so weird.” johnnie snickered.

i giggled, “well, yeah.” i lifted my hand up and wiped egg residue on his face.

he hunched over, gagging before wiping himself off with the towel. “ugh!”

“love you.” i smiled, wrapping up the dough and putting it in the fridge.

he grabbed the ingredients for the sauce as he read them from my phone. meanwhile, i began to shred cheese. “i don’t even eat half of the shit on this list. mushrooms?!” Johnnie joked, making me roll my eyes.

“mushrooms will be on the side, mainly for Jake and Tara if they want them. we can have a fancy dinner!” i protest, putting the cheese off to the side as i began to cut the mushrooms. Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist as i cut. “you already done putting the sauce together?”

“yeah, it was easy.” he smirked, resting his head on my shoulder,

“did you do it correctly?” i emphasize, scooping the chopped up mushrooms into a pan to cook them.

he snorts, “i hope so.”

i triple checked to make sure everything was running smoothly before starting the oven. i hummed along with the Frank Sinatra record playing quietly in the background. i stirred the mushrooms, adding seasoning and singing to myself. “and then i go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like, ‘i love you.’”

“you’re so beautiful,” Johnnie commented, stirring the sauce before walking off to set the table.

i blushed just as hard as i had since we first started dating, things Johnnie said to me never got old. i continued humming along with a smile on my face. Johnnie began to wash plates and utensils, which were matching matte black with silver accents. i turned to look at him, unable to hold back a smile when his gaze met mine. i had always hated singing in front of people, but Johnnie loved it.

we quickly assembled the lasagna, as our time was running out quickly, it was already 5. we had lost track of time talking while everything cooked. after putting it in the oven, Johnnie kissed my forehead. “we did great.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #frank sinatra #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #fluff #cooking

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chippergoose · 1 month

Text

On to Round 2

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ithinkicouldloveher · 4 months

Text

found you | february @steddiemicrofic 🧸

prompt: edge | wc: 509 | rated: g | childhood friends/different first meeting

Steve plops down near the quarry’s edge. He draws scraped knees up to his chest and looks down at the reddened skin, dreading the scolding he’ll receive.

Maybe he’ll just camp out here, he thinks with a sniffle.

He wipes a tear and picks up a pebble, throwing it into the deep pit.

“You probably shouldn’t sit so close.”

Steve startles and shoots upright, coming face to face with the depth below his feet. He screams, scrambling backward into the kid behind him, who reaches out to steady his waist.

Steve turns, wide-eyed, their noses inches away.

The boy releases him and they spring apart as if burned.

“Sorry,” Steve says, cheeks aflame, eyes cast downward.

He blinks, surprised by the pristine condition of the kid’s sneakers.

“Old toothbrush.”

Steve looks up, brows furrowed. “What?”

“I use an old toothbrush. Makes ‘em look like new,” the boy says proudly.

Steve scrutinizes him. The unfortunate buzzcut, the missing front tooth. The Johnny Cash tee, mismatched with an oversized maroon flannel.

“S’not mine,” the boy grumbles, noticing Steve’s staring. “But Wayne said we’ll go thrifting tomorrow.”

“Wayne?”

“My uncle,” the boy explains, “My name’s Eddie.”

Steve cocks a brow. “I’ve never seen you before. You go to Hawkins?”

Eddie shrinks, visibly embarrassed.

Guilt prickles hotly at the nape of Steve’s neck.

“I will, yeah. Next week,” Eddie mumbles, kicking dirt, “Moved into the trailer park nearby. Hate it here, s'nothing like Tennessee.”

“Why’d your family move?”

“Only me. Dad’s in the slammer. Ma, she’s… um. She’s…” Eddie trails off, nervous. He shuffles closer toward his parked bike.

Steve panics. “Hey, don’t go. Please.”

Eddie eyes him warily.

“I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Hello Steve,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Why are you out here all alone?”

“I rode into a bush while I was looking for Tommy. He was supposed to meet me here, but the dummy forgot,” Steve grumbles, annoyed.

Eddie tilts his head, eyes glittering with mischief. “Maybe you were supposed to meet me instead.”

It startles a laugh out of Steve. “What— I don’t even know you!”

“You know my name is Eddie, and that I’m from Tennessee,” he offers.

“And that you live with your uncle Wayne,” Steve adds, giggling.

“Wanna swing by? He’s making chili. Plus we got lotsa bandaids,” Eddie adds, pointedly eyeing Steve’s scrapes.

Steve turns toward the quarry, considering. He eyes the path, as if Tommy will magically appear.

He won’t, Steve knows he won’t.

He grabs his bike handles and Eddie grins.

Steve follows closely behind, something akin to butterflies stirring deep in his gut.

He may not have found Tommy that day, but he found a new friend in Eddie.

He made a promise to stay by Eddie’s side ever since, not even questioning his innocence all these years later as Steve leads a very frantic Dustin, a weary Max and a jittery Robin to the quarry’s edge.

Eddie turns, smiling despite his nerves. “You found me,” he whispers.

Steve surges forward, enveloping his boyfriend in his arms. “Always will, Eds. Always will.”

#steddie #steddie microfic

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mockerycrow · 8 months

Text

PAYPHONE (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist

Summary: You and Johnny were the right people, but everything happened at the wrong time.

[WARNINGS: Angst, hurt/no comfort, breaking up, unhealthy coping mechanisms/can be seen as self-harm.]

JOHNNY DIDN’T know how to handle certain emotions correctly, despite being in the military. He’s a strong, disciplined man but the second something happens he doesn’t know how to deal with—something he doesn’t know how to fix happens, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Johnny’s an impatient man, he likes when something needs to be done and done at that exact moment. He doesn’t like sitting around, doing nothing. He despises feeling useless and god, has he never felt more useless than he does right now, sitting in the gym on base; his headphones blasting music as his leg bounces up and down whilst he’s on a bench. His arms are resting on his knees, his head hanging low with his hands rubbing the back of his neck because it’s feeling the stretch of his muscles due to the position he’s in.

His eardrums twinged with discomfort due to how loud he’s playing his music, but Johnny couldn’t give two shits. Not when he’s waiting for a text that will never come, not when he feels a hole in his chest that he’s not quite sure will ever heal. Johnny lets out a shuddery breath as his leg bounces a thousand miles per hour; he came to the gym to distract himself, but it’s only making everything worse. Johnny’s phone vibrates and he hates the way he pulls it out of his pocket with lightning speed, his heart pounding against his ribcage with hope, hope that it’s you—and a loud curse leaving him as it’s just a fucking notification from his goddamn rugby scores app. Johnny doesn’t hesitate to throw his phone to the ground, the phone clattering as he puts his head in his hands, the energy humming in his veins begging to be released.

“Fuck!” He snarls loudly—he’s alone in the gym, so he isn’t worried about downplaying his reactions. It’s fairly late and the gym is a fair’s way away from the barracks. Not many people come down at—he looks at his watch—0239. His hands are wrapped in preparation of using a punching bag; he knows he should go back to his room and grab the foam gloves for extra protection, he knows he cannot afford broken knuckles right now, but quite frankly; Johnny could not give a fuck. Not when the pain in his chest and in his throat is much worse than any physical injury he’s received. Even the deep, hooked scar in his chin hurt less.

Johnny stands up from where he’s sitting on a bench nearby and he stalks towards the punching bag, electricity biting at his nerves, the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach as he throws a violent right hook at the punching bag; he blocks out the warning signals his brain sends him from the lack of complete proper protection. He wants to stop thinking about you, he wants to stop thinking about your last conversation, the happy memories—he needs it to stop hurting as bad as it does.

Your laugh was incredibly contagious that Johnny couldn’t help but breaking out into a grin so hard that his lip curls and exposes his upper right canine tooth, barely able to contain his own laughter. You were cracking up at your own damn joke that wasn’t even funny in the first place, yet Johnny found himself with tears in his eyes and a tight gut from laughter. “Y—“ He chokes at first, sucking in a deep breath. “You couldn’t even fuckin’ finish yer joke!—“ Johnny wheezes, unable to stop himself from slapping the couch. You, unlike Johnny, did not care who or what was the object of your laughing assault. Your hand comes down on his thigh multiple times, causing him to laugh harder as neither of you could catch your breath. “Shut the fuck up—” You were barely able to push it out, your head reeling back from the laughter.

Johnny’s eyes were glued to you; he loved the way you laughed, the way you were so comfortable with him. He never complained when you hit him during laughing fits, even though yes, it did hurt. Johnny never complained when you couldn’t finish your jokes, because your laughter always ended up being better than the joke itself. His laughter died down, but Johnny’s grin never left his face. He loved watching you try to catch your breath, the way your body flails during a laughing fit. Johnny watched as you slowly stopped laughing, your fingers coming up to wipe the tears that had spilled and any remaining in your eyes. You bit your lip as you made eye contact and you both lost it all over again, this time Johnny’s hand coming down to slap your leg instead, sending you into a loud wheeze.

Johnny thinks the happy memories hurt worse than the bad ones; because he can’t hate you for this. He thinks it would be so much easier to get over this–your relationship if you did something completely fucked up, but the fact is that you didn’t. You never did; you were good to him. Johnny knows he wasn’t bad to you–but you two just wanted different things, and yet you’re the only one he wants. He’s so angry. At you, at himself, at how things ended. His knuckles hurt. Johnny hates how you were so fucking sweet to him, even to the end. He wishes you were mean to him; he wishes you did something unforgivable but you didn’t. His hands throb. Johnny hates himself for this because he’s sure it’s his fault. He’s sure if he did what you needed, it wouldn’t have ended this way. “But would you be happy, John?”

His eyes shut, trying to block out the sudden invasion of your voice. God, your voice. It was something he looked forward to each time he returned from the field, no matter time, he would dial your number. It was usually around this time, too, which doesn’t help. Not when his fingers itch burn to dial your number.

Johnny wishes you did something to justify the anger he has towards you right now, but you didn’t. You wanted different things than him, plain and simple. Neither of you guys did anything wrong, and Johnny can’t handle that. He wants to blame you, himself, something.

Johnny gasps as suddenly the pain hits him. The blaring, hot white pain that shoots through his knuckles, up his arms. His eyelids fly open as he’s met with a gruesome sight; his blood. “Fuckin’ ‘ell!” Johnny curses, shaky fingers ripping his headphones off of his head. There’s blood smeared on the punching bag, blood dripped from his knuckles onto the ground as well as dripping down the punching bag, there’s specks of blood all over the front of his shirt—his hands wont stop fucking shaking, and his chest hurts, and his head fucking burns—

There’s a pair of arms that wrap around Johnny and he tries to push them away, but the white hot pain flares up in his joints and he gasps, pulling his hands away. “No—“ He croaks, barely hearing himself. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me—“

“—op—“

“So—“

“John!”

His eyes open—when did he close them?—and his eyes lay on a familiar face; Price. He looks tired, his brows furrowed in concern, his hands grasping his shoulders uncomfortably firmly. His chest burns, and his vision blurs from the tears he wasn’t aware he was spilling. “Hey, god—“ Price grunts as he grabs Johnny’s wrists instead, his touch gentler there. Johnny sucks in a tight breath, his hands trembling so harshly—they shouldn’t be shaking, he’s a sniper and demolitions expert—“Focus on me, y’hear me?” Price’s voice filters through the drowning thoughts.

Johnny’s breath hitches when he says that, his shoulders trembling. “They used—they used t’say that.”

Price’s worried expression falters, his eyes flickering with recognition with what’s going on, his heart strings tugging harder than before; watching one of your sergeants break like this is.. Something Price never wants to experience again.

“C’mon, no, don’t you worry about the mess, yeah?” Price murmurs, Johnny hiccuping, the embarrassment of breaking down beginning to hit as tears drip off of his cheeks. “Let’s get you cleaned up, mate.”

“Maybe in the next life, Johnny.”

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the-red-mafia · 7 months

Text

The Catalyst

Johnny leads the teens through the area, safely reaching the stairwell to the catalyst before being ambushed by Darlington. Will Mad and Solana be able to reach them in time, or will they be lost to their minds? Also available on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/user/TheRedMafia A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry this one is two weeks late, we needed extra time to prepare it. Double post today so after you're done reading this one, go check out the next post: The Assassination. Next Update: 11/11/2023 Word Count: 3026

Immediately after "The Game"

Solana’s bat collided with Darlington’s stomach again, sending the boy flying down the hallway. He let out a laugh before glancing back at Mad, whose screen was blank.

“You okay, Mad?” the elf asked, lowering the weapon.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” it replied, “Mostly, at least.”

“Is something going on?”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this place,” Mad said, causing Solana to chuckle.

“Cursed places will do that.”

“Well, yeah. But…I don’t know. We’re sure Zaeor gave Maroon this game, right?” Solana frowned.

“As sure as we can be, I guess.” Mad crossed their arms and looked up at the grey ceiling.

“Why would Zaeor give Maroon a cursed video game? Surely he knew about the curse, right?”

“Maybe he didn’t,” Solana replied, “I don’t think he would intentionally give it to Maroon.”

“Maybe…” The elf leaned against a wall.

“Or maybe he needs to get rid of this curse and wants us to do it.”

“But why not tell us so we’re prepared?” Solana shrugged.

“I don’t know, I’m not a god. I’ve got no idea what he’s thinking.”

“Right…” Mad mumbled, “Wait, where’s Darlington? Shouldn’t he be back by now?” Solana frowned and pushed herself off the wall.

“Yeah, you’re right. Where is he?” They looked down the hallway, but no one was coming back.

“Um- excuse me-” Mad quickly turned around, barely managing to step out of the way before Solana swung their bat at the boy behind them. He quickly stepped back but was hit by the elf’s second swing.

“Nice try, Darlington,” they muttered, raising the weapon again, “Ready to get pummelled again?”

“W-wait! I’m not who you think I am!” Mad put an arm out in front of Solana.

“Who are you then?”

“I’m Johnny Darlington, but n-not the one you were fighting! That’s an evil version of me, I swear!” A smile appeared on Mad’s screen.

“I believe you. What are you doing here, then?” The boy took a deep breath.

“Your friends. I was h-helping them get to the catalyst and…well. They’re in danger.”

When Velvet, Maroon, Thorn, and Johnny rematerialized, the surroundings had morphed once again. Velvet looked around at the lines of desks and chairs, computers sitting on top of each of them. The yellow wallpaper was back, although it was partially covered by various frames. Instead of holding paintings, however, they were all white paper.

Next to them, Thorn lurched forward. Velvet groaned and quickly grabbed a trash bin. They handed it to him, and he promptly turned around and threw up into the bag. Maroon stepped away from aer slightly.

“Thorn, are you okay?” They didn’t respond.

“Teleporting makes some…weaker people lose control of their stomachs,” Velvet said, smirking. Thorn flipped them off. Maroon placed a hand on their shoulder. Thorn looked up at them and smiled weakly before returning to the trash can and vomiting again.

“Where are we, Darlington?” Velvet asked, crossing her arms.

“This is as close to the catalyst as I can take you,” he began, “My magic doesn’t work any closer.”

“Of course,” the teen muttered.

“I don’t remember this level from the trailer. What-”

“It’s not a level. This is what goes on behind the scenes. It’s where all the mini-games and puzzles are monitored.” Thorn set the trashcan on the ground and grabbed a tissue off a desk.

“So which way?” Velvet began. Darlington led her to an exit door which led to a concrete stairwell. Maroon helped Thorn to follow them as Velvet looked up and down.

“If my info is right, at the top of the building is where the catalyst is.” Thorn looked up at the dozens of stairwells and groaned.

“All the way up?”

“All the way up.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Velvet chuckled before starting up the stairs. The others followed behind, Thorn still grumbling behind her. The sound of printers rumbling came from the closed doors along the stairwell. Voices came through quietly as well, immediately putting the assassin on edge.

“Are there other people here?” They demanded. “J-just NPCs. nothing to worry about.” Velvet narrowed their eyes.

“Mhm…sure.”

“You’re being paranoid, Velvie,” Thorn called out. The assassin flipped him off as the voices suddenly stopped. Velvet froze at the top of the steps. There were only two more flights to the top but Darlington choked back a sob.

“He’s here,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry.” Velvet raised two of her throwing knives.

“Stay behind me. I’ll take care of it.” They glanced back at their teammates but they were gone. The corridor was completely empty as a laugh echoed up and down the stairwell. Velvet gripped the throwing knives tighter and sprinted forward. Footsteps reverberated behind them but they quickly kicked the door open before slamming it closed. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

A cold breeze hit her back, causing her to turn about. Their throwing knives had disappeared, along with the red zip-up and scars down their arms. A black, short-sleeve dress took its place and fell just below her knees. They stood in front of a large brown door, dozens of stickers scattered on it. In the middle was some kind of word: C-A-R-

“What the fuck,” the teen breathed. Their heart skipped a beat as they spun around. The marble walls, the dark brown doors, the towering glass window behind her-

“Fuck- How-” She turned back to the door. A rainbow was peeling off now, and an odour wafted towards them from underneath. They clenched their fists.

“No. I’m not doing this. Whatever you’re trying to do, Darlington, it’s not happening!” Another laugh, followed by the sound of a gun loading right behind her head.

“Open the door, dēvotiō,” Unor’s voice whispered, “Your surprise is behind it.” Velvet could still hear the smirk in his wicked voice. They took a deep breath and stepped forward.

It’s not real, it’s not real- they repeated as they turned the knob. The door slowly pushed open and the assassin shut her eyes.

“Open your eyes, Velvet,” Unor’s voice muttered again, “Look at him. You did this, you know.” The stench was overwhelming, to the point where Velvet knew exactly what was in front of them. She slowly opened her eyes before slamming them closed.

Maroon spun around as a chill went down their spine. Thorn’s warm hand was long gone along with Velvet and Johnny in front of them. The teen took a deep breath and raised their hands.

“Where are you?” They called out. A laugh came from behind them.

“Right behind you, Margaret.” The dull grey walls of the stairwell seemed to melt away into brown and white and various seats materialised on either side of them. A large white cross hung on the wall in front of them with several young children sitting in pews. The rest of the seats were empty and a man dressed in a black robe stood at the front of them. All eyes turned towards Maroon as someone shoved them to the ground.

“Margaret. How lovely of you to finally join us,” the man in the robe said. Maroon froze.

“She was playing around in the forest again, Father,” the person behind them stated coldly, “Sleeping under a tree, no less.” Maroon could feel tears running down their face as they took a deep breath. The robed man walked towards them. Maroon heard their own voice tell him to stop, but he didn’t listen. Every step that he took brought a familiar feeling into them. Their hands grew cold as the robed man slapped them across the face.

Maroon took another deep breath before mushrooms exploded around the church hall. They grew through the wooden floor and wrapped around the robed man’s legs. His screams pierced Maroon’s ears and were shortly followed by the high-pitched screeches of the children. The adults shouted at them but their words reached deaf ears. The robed man now lay dead on the floor, mushrooms growing out of his ears. His head exploded, his brain now turned into tiny pink fungi. Several other adults followed suit. Maroon closed their eyes as the ground shook, the walls soon crushing the remaining living humans in front of them.

“Maroon!” Thorn shouted, gripping the knife so hard his knuckles were turning white. When the laugh echoed, he quickly slashed behind him. The area rapidly changed around aer, morphing into grey stone walls. Paintings hung up on either side of it but they were drowned out by various vines in front of them.

A red slash hung in the air where Thorn’s knife had sliced. A silhouette began to form around it before it solidified. Thorn stared in horror as his red-haired mother’s body slammed into the ground. The knife, blood dripping from it, fell out of its hands.

“No-” he whispered, “No, it’s not real. It’s not-” His mother let out a loud scream, forcing the prince to cover aer ears. The word ‘no’ kept dripping out of his mouth as the queen continued to scream and writhe on the floor. Footsteps thumped down the hall and the door behind him flew open.

“Love!” The king shouted. He stopped in the doorway as Thorn slowly turned towards him. His sword was drawn, just as it was.

“Thorn…” he breathed, “Son, what happened?”

“They…they…” the queen’s voice faded out. The king looked at Thorn and his eyes fell to the bloodied knife at aer feet.

“Thorn…” He whispered, “What have you done?”

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean-”

“You ‘didn’t mean it’?” the king’s voice grew louder and Thorn quickly closed his eyes. It wrapped itself in its arms and took a deep breath.

“Thorn, look at me!” The king demanded. Tears began to form in the prince’s eyes as he breathed again.

It's…not real, they thought, Maybe if I just…do it…everything will go back to normal.

“Thorn!” The king shouted again. They felt his rough, calloused hands through the thin sleep tunic they had on. He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at the king. A few tears ran down his face as he shouted, demanding to know what happened. Thorn shrugged the king’s hands off and picked up the knife.

The image froze right as they dug the knife into his stomach.

Solana felt a little nauseous after the “good” Johnny Darlington teleported them. She looked over at Mad, whose screen was still blank. The robot tried to look around but Johnny quickly grabbed their arm and pulled them across what seemed to be an old office.

“They’re this way!” he called out, “He used his magic on them-” He opened the stairwell door and sprinted up them. Solana had to sprint to keep up with the surprisingly agile boy. As they climbed, laughter began to echo down. The trio stopped on a landing, Solana pulling Mad behind him and raising his bat.

“They’re…they’re a few more flights up,” Johnny mumbled. The “bad” Darlington floated down, still laughing. The two of them looked almost identical, except for Darlington’s pitch-black outfit compared to Johnny’s jeans and a t-shirt.

“At least we can tell them apart well enough,” Solana mumbled.

“That’s what you’re focusing on?” Mad replied. The elf shrugged.

“Just glad we won’t have a switcheroo situation.” They stepped forward and swung the bat at the floating middle-schooler, but he just floated upward. Solana watched him reach his hand out as it glowed a light lilac. The room suddenly grew dark and Darlington disappeared from view.

Solana was sitting down all of a sudden, the inside of a small ship surrounding them. A small window was in front of her, a younger Nolan on the other side. A chill shot up their spine.

“No,” they breathed.

“Solana!” Mad’s voice pierced the ship, the walls rippling. Solana turned to where she thought the noise had come from.

“Mad?” The ship snapped back to the grey walls of the stairwell. The elf shot up, panting. Darlington was groaning on the floor down a level while Johnny stood in front, facing him down. Mad was to her left, taking her pulse.

“What happened?”

“He tried to trap you in your worst memories,” Johnny said through gritted teeth, “Like he did with the kids. It’s a twisted version of my magic.” Solana jumped to their feet.

“How’d it stop?”

“That was, uh, me,” Mad mumbled. It sheepishly raised Solana’s bat and handed it to them. Solana smiled and turned back to Darlington, who was once again getting to his feet.

“Let’s do this, then,” she began, “Maybe if we pummel him enough he’ll let them go.”

“Maroon!” Their eyes shot open. The ruins of the orphanage were covered in green plants now, and the dust had settled. Their mushrooms had receded into a small patch at their feet, still growing slowly.

“W-who’s there?” Boots hit the grass behind them and Maroon turned around. Velvet walked towards them in their mission uniform, hair short once again. “Maroon, wake up!” They kept walking towards them, but their mouth didn’t move.

“Velvet?”

The prince looked around at the frozen image. Their dad’s blood floated, the smell of iron in the air. His mom’s screaming had stopped but his heart kept beating hard.

“Mom, Dad?” it called out. No response. Thorn let out a relieved breath. Warm arms wrapped around aer, causing aer to jump slightly. A familiar smell slammed into their nose.

“...Maroon?”

“Thorn!”

Velvet felt tears run down her cheeks as Unor held her eyelids open. His laugh seemed to shake the ground. The red blood seeped towards her, forming a pool at her feet. Bright emerald green eyes stared up at the ceiling, blood splattered on his chin. The bullet was still buried in his heart underneath the pale, ripped skin.

Her heartbeat thumped as she kept staring and Unor kept laughing. Quiet shouts came from behind them, followed by a loud thud. Velvet’s eyes widened and she quickly spun around. Unor didn’t resist, his arms frozen up where he was holding her. His laugh continued but his mouth didn’t move.

“What the fuck?” the assassin muttered. A high-pitch scream came from what seemed to be below the floorboards.

“Darlington,” she growled. They blinked before they were back in the stairwell, lying on the floor. The shouts were louder, and she made out Solana’s voice calling out to Mad. Velvet shot up and ran to the railing. Below, Solana dodged a knife thrown by Darlington, not the one from earlier, and Mad caught it mid-air. The other Darlington took the knife from the droid and threw it to Solana, who then chucked it back.

“Mad, Solana!” Velvet shouted. The trio looked up and Solana’s eyes widened.

“Velvet!” Solana replied, “You okay?”

“I’m fine! What’s going on?”

“Evil Darlington had you all trapped in a spell,” Mad said, “We’re distracting him now. See if you can wake Thorn and Maroon up!” Velvet groaned but pushed herself away from the railing and sprinted down the steps. Maroon and Thorn were unconscious two floors down. The teen took a deep breath before kneeling down next to Maroon.

“Maroon!” they called out, “Maroon, wake up!” A few seconds passed and Velvet lightly shook them.

“Velvet?” Maroon’s eyes slowly opened and scanned the room. Eventually, they locked on Velvet and they shot up, pulling her into a hug. She attempted to squirm out of their grip at first but stopped when a small tear hit her jacket sleeve.

“I- I-” Velvet sighed and quickly propped them up, pointing at Thorn.

“Go wake Thorn up. I’m going to destroy the catalyst.”

“Velvet-” The assassin put her hands on Maroon’s shoulder.

“Come on, Maroon.” They were quiet for a second before nodding. Velvet stood up and leaned over the railing. Darlington slammed into a wall as Solana laughed. Her heartbeat was still racing and her breathing was shallow.

“They’re fine,” Velvet mumbled, “Get it together, Velvet.” She sprinted up the stairs again. A chill went down their spine as they opened the door, but they let out a relieved breath when the door simply opened to a dark room. In the centre was a pedestal with a floating green disc above it. A light green glow emitted from it, illuminating the symbols etched onto the floor. Velvet kneeled down and ran her hand over them.

“Hm.” Velvet grabbed another throwing knife and rolled up their jacket sleeve. They quickly etched a rough sketch into the top layer of their skin before standing.

I’ll ask Zaeor later, Velvet thought. She quickly grabbed the disc and snapped it in half. The green light disappeared as the assassin let out a sigh of relief. Velvet turned around and stuffed the knife back in her pouch, pulling her sleeve down. Maroon had their arms wrapped around Thorn, Mad now hovering over them. Solana had a wooden bat and stood next to the “good” Darlington, who looked up at her when she approached.

“Thank you, Velvet,” he began, causing the rest of the mafia to turn towards them, “I don’t know how much longer we could’ve held out.”

“That’s it?” Velvet replied. Darlington nodded.

“That’s it.” The teen narrowed her eyes but handed him the snapped disc. He looked down at the pieces before chuckling.

“My own game. How ironic.”

“Are you good, Velvet?” Solana asked. The teen raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. Why?”

“Darlington just trapped you in your worst memories and you’re ‘fine’?”

“Oh, that’s what his powers were. Makes sense.” A question mark appeared on Mad’s face.

“Did you…not-”

“I did. But I don’t want to fucking talk about it,” Velvet interrupted, “Just take us home, Darlington.” Mad didn’t push it further, but Solana gave her a look. Velvet simply gestured to the beaded red bracelet on her left wrist and the elf nodded. Darlington took Solana’s right and Velvet’s left hands before smiling down at Thorn and Maroon.

“Are you two ready?” Thorn took a deep breath and stood, helping Maroon up. Maroon grabbed Velvet’s other hand and Thorn’s. Mad grabbed the remaining hands, completing the circle. Darlington sighed and his hands glowed a light blue.

“Thank you. Thank you all.”

#/the red mafia #/trm part 4 #/chapter 043 #/the catalyst #/solana #/solana roison #/mad valentine #/johnny darlington #/velvet #/velvet bolton #/maroon #/maroon pembrooke #/thorn alviar

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