#how i would always say that i wanted to be shaggy but my mom was like no youre more like velma

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 

“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she��s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

[steddiealltheway]

Happy Halloween everyone!! Here is some type of no upside down AU fic :)

Eddie drums his hands on the cafeteria table and looks around at his friends. "Alright gentlemen, what are we doing for Halloween?"

He instantly gets a sense that something is off when Jeff and Gareth exchange a guilty look. Eddie leans forward and props his chin up on his hand. "Want to share with the class?"

Gareth sighs and looks at the table for a moment before bursting out, "Well, my sister and Jeff's brother really wanted to go out trick-or-treating this year, and you know how they've gotten close. And the deal was that either Jeff and I would stay at our houses manning the candy bowl, or we would go out with the kids."

Eddie huffs out, "And let me guess, you chose free candy, torturous walking, and a cutesy group costume."

Jeff smiles guiltily. "You're looking at Shaggy and Scooby-Doo."

"Adorable," Eddie says with a big fake smile before turning to Frank. "You're not leaving me high and dry though, isn't that right, Frank?"

Only, Frank seems to be just as guilty-looking as the others.

"Frank... Don't do this to me, man," Eddie pleads.

Frank sighs, "I told my mom I would do a Halloween horror movie night with her. Sorry, Eddie."

Eddie looks between all his friends, wondering if they're pulling a prank on him and fulfilling the trick part of trick-or-treat. But he slowly realizes that they're not. "Shit," he whispers, "I guess I needed to book you guys early," Eddie jokes, trying not to feel too let down.

Jeff pats his hand and says, "Hey, you can come with us. We need a bad guy in a mask."

Eddie scrunches up his nose. "Willingly walking miles and dealing with kids on an endless sugar high? No thanks. But... I appreciate the thought." He sits back and picks up a few of his pretzels before dropping them back in the bag. What is he going to do? He has always loved Halloween, his friends know this. But what's the point in celebrating if he's alone?

"You could go to Harrington's infamous ball," Frank suggests. Gareth and Jeff immediately start laughing loudly. Eddie just glares at Frank, but he doesn't seem to be joking as he defends himself, "I'm not kidding! Come on, free beer and witnessing a bunch of shit drama."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah, because I would be so welcomed there."

"It's not like people will really notice. I hear his place is jam-packed with random people every year. Plus, you could wear your bat masquerade mask," Jeff interjects.

Eddie sighs and puts his head in his hands. "You're not seriously trying to convince me to go, right?"

"I mean... we're not not trying to convince you," Gareth supplies unhelpfully. There's an oof sound that Eddie's sure is the result of Jeff elbowing him in the side. "But seriously, you can wear the mask so no one will recognize you and your slutty vampire outfit-"

"It's not slutty."

"It has a tight leather lace-up vest, it's a little slutty," Jeff stage whispers to Eddie.

Eddie groans and dramatically thuds his head down on the table before quickly looking up. "Let me get this right. You want me to go to Steve Harrington's Halloween party in a mask as a Cinderella-type vampire because you guys are ditching me?"

"Precisely. Except the part where we ditched you because we clearly invited you-"

"Okay! Okay!" Eddie cuts Jeff off waving his hands.

"And hey, we all know that you would love to get some one-on-one time with Harrington, and what's a better time to do this than undercover?" Jeff asks.

Eddie dramatically shushes him and whispers, "I told you guys that secret while entirely way too high, you cannot hold that information against me right now."

"He's right," Frank says, "You can finally find out if Harrington truly isn't an asshole."

"And see if he has the hots for you while you're wearing your-"

"I swear, Gareth, if you call the costume slutty again..."

"Okay, but are you wearing it with your leather pants?" Jeff asks, eyebrows raised.

Eddie sighs and looks down at his lunchbox. "Maybe," he begrudgingly admits.

"Slutty!" Frank loudly says, and Gareth and Jeff immediately burst out laughing.

Eddie covers his face in his hands before joining in on their laughter. "Maybe it's a little slutty," he admits.

As the boys celebrate their win, Eddie feels someone staring over at him. He glances toward Harrington's table where he's sitting next to his ex and her new boyfriend and finds him staring directly at him. Eddie's heart beats a little harder when Steve slightly smiles at him before redirecting his attention to Jonathan.

"Jesus Christ, he looked at me again," Eddie mutters.

"Dude, you always say this, but we never see him do it," Frank groans.

"Yeah, because you don't obsessively check out his table," Gareth says with a laugh before he suddenly frowns and turns to Eddie. "No offense."

"None taken," Eddie replies as he chews on his bottom lip, thinking deeply. If he goes to the party, he can finally confront his crush on the guy he's never truly interacted with unless you count all the times they catch each other's eye then... they would be interacting somewhat often.

He can also finally figure out if it's all in his head or not.

"Okay. I'm going to the Harrington party," Eddie announces.

"Seriously?" Jeff asks incredulously.

"You guys are just so convincing," Eddie says with his hands over his heart.

"Bullshit," Frank says, "You're just going for a chance to maybe say two words to him."

Eddie crosses his arms and asks, "And what would those two words be?"

"'Slutty vampire' in response to 'What are you dressed as?'" Jeff quickly jokes, earning a shriek of laughter from Gareth and Frank.

Eddie thanks whatever entity is responsible for making the bell ring to announce lunch is over. "I need new friends," Eddie lies as he gathers his stuff up.

As Gareth and Frank rush off, Jeff lays a hand on Eddie's arm and says, "Hey, we can do a Halloween slasher night if you want to this weekend. Also, don't hesitate to call if you need help getting ready or need a second pair of eyes to make sure Harrington will approve."

Eddie gives him a genuine small smile and squeezes his shoulder, "Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it," Jeff says as he walks off with a bright smile.

As Eddie watches him walk away, he catches Harrington staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but as soon as he glances over, he looks away looking... angry? Eddie just sighs and shakes his head. He needs to stop thinking that Harrington in any way has thoughts dedicated to him.

Maybe this party will be good for Eddie.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Eddie stares at his reflection in the mirror and twists and turns. Maybe the leather is slutty, but he thinks the plain black cape does well to soften the look a bit. He stares at his hair and all the glossy individually finger-curled strands making his hair look a little more tame than usual. But hell, his arms and fingers ache. He just hopes it's all worth it.

He puts on the bat mask and frowns before taking it off and digging around for his eyeliner pencil he knows he has somewhere in the bathroom. He quickly finds it in a random basket and applies it before smudging it a bit. He puts the mask back on and smiles. He likes the way it has an elegant almost lace-looking quality to the plastic that offsets the leather of his costume.

He wishes he could call Jeff for a final look, but he doesn't want to take any precious time away from him and his brother although they're probably done trick-or-treating by now. Plus, he knows that Jeff would tell him that he looks great and not to overthink it. So, that's exactly what he's going to do.

He grabs the bright orange flyer he found on the floor at school for the Harrington Halloween House Party and cringes at the alliteration. He's pretty sure it's been the same thing for the past three years though, so it's not like Harrington has an option of changing it.

Gosh, he needs to stop stalling and finally leave for the party. He glances at his watch and sees that it's almost eleven, so people should be finally arriving an hour fashionably late. Better to be a part of that crowd to not draw much attention.

He drives over quickly, parking a little down the road when he starts seeing other cars, not wanting to get stuck if he wants to leave early. He takes a deep breath before glancing in the mirror again. He's not recognizable... right? Right.

He gets out of his van and quickly starts walking toward the intimidatingly large house. He's glad to find a group of people rushing inside and even more people outside on the front lawn who aren't sparing him a second glance. Usually, he would come to one of these things with his infamous lunchbox and upsell his stash, but he knew it would give him away tonight. Plus, it's nice to not be on edge the whole time, wondering who is approaching him for drugs and who is approaching him with a slur.

As he makes his way inside, he grimaces at the loud pop music people are wildly dancing to and the smell of alcohol that permeates the house. It's only a few minutes before someone is shoving a cup of mysteriously bright red liquid in Eddie's hand. He takes a tentative sip and shrugs. It's not horrible especially since Eddie likes terribly sweet things, but he definitely isn't going to waste time getting a second cup.

He's on a mission. And his mission is to find Steve and hope that he's not somewhere with his tongue down some random girl's throat. Eddie tries to shove away the thoughts telling him that he shouldn't expect Steve Harrington to not be doing exactly that at his party. Plus, why would he spare time to talk to Eddie of all people?

Eddie takes another sip of his drink and makes his way through the crowd, not finding a single glimpse of that Harrington mane that's usually easy to spot. He goes outside the backdoor and frowns at all the people making out in the pool before heading back inside.

He glances around a few more times before settling back in a corner, downing the rest of his drink before giving up on his search and settling on people watching. But god it’s boring.

These people are boring.

It’s just the same situation over and over again. A couple getting uncomfortably handsy with each other, or a guy and girl eyeing each other up across the room as their friends hype them up in a way that’s either grotesque or filled with squeals.

And the room is hot. So unbearably hot that his leather pants are starting to cling to Eddie in an uncomfortable way that makes him want to rip them off.

Instead, he settles on climbing the stairs and going to find whatever bathroom he can to splash some cold water in his face and hopefully get a moment to himself.

He looks at all the closed doors, pressing his ear against them before quickly backing away whenever he hears something gross. But then his ear settles on one door and there’s the distinct sound of nothing on the other side that puts him at ease.

He twists the knob and walks into the room, freezing when he realizes that, one, this is not a bathroom, and, two, someone with Steve Harrington's distinctive hair swoop is sitting in the room.

The man turns and makes eye contact with Eddie who instantly dies a little inside as he realizes it is Steve. "Sorry. I didn't mean to barge in."

Steve gives him a small smile and says, "I don't mind."

Eddie doesn't know what to do other than hover in the doorway of the dark room. Steve continues to stare at him and eventually asks, "Want to join me?"

Yes. Hell yes, he does. But also, Eddie has the distinct feeling that this either has to be a dream or a prank. But he still nods.

"Do you mind locking the door behind you? I just... don't want anyone trying to use this room as a place to hook up or something."

Now this definitely sets off a few alarms in Eddie's head, but there's a weird air of sadness surrounding Steve that makes it seem... genuine. So Eddie closes the door and locks it behind him, slowly making his way over to Steve. As he gets closer, some of the light trailing in through his blinds catches on the glittering crown that he's holding in his hands.

Eddie gestures toward it. "King Steve?"

Steve smiles sadly and looks down at the crown. "Something like that."

Eddie carefully sits next to Steve, trying to keep a respectable distance between them on the bed. His eyes trace over Steve's costume, a clearly expensive, gorgeous prince or king costume. "So, what are you supposed to be?"

"Prince Charming," Steve answers easily. He glances over at Eddie and shrugs. "Nancy thought that it would be funny because of my 'Harrington charm' mixed with King Steve, but I don't know. I kind of hate that nickname." He shakes his head and changes the subject. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Slutty vampire," Eddie says almost automatically, startling a laugh out of Steve as Eddie curses under his breath and puts his hands over his face. As his fingers press into the mask on his face, he's startled by the realization that Steve doesn't know who he is. "Sorry, my friends kept saying that, and I insisted it wasn't what I was going for. But they won that argument in the end I guess." God, he can't believe he actually said that.

"You look maybe a little slutty but in a good way," Steve rushes to say the last part. He runs a hand through his hair, getting a bit flustered. "I mean you look nice."

"So do you," Eddie admits honestly.

Steve holds his hand out to him. "Steve."

Eddie takes his hand and says, "Cinderella."

Steve laughs again. "Really?"

"I got the mask and everything," Eddie explains, not yet wanting to ruin things when Steve finds out who he really is.

"Cinderella then," Steve says with a smile that makes Eddie feel a little weak in the knees. Thank god he's sitting down.

"So, what are you doing in here in the dark all by yourself, Prince Charming?"

"I'm not by myself, I'm with you," Steve easily deflects.

Eddie raises his eyebrows although he's pretty sure the mask partially covers them.

Steve looks down at the crown again and raises it up. "I just wanted to not be this for a little bit tonight. Plus, the music was giving me a headache - too many concussions." He pauses before turning to Eddie. "And what were you doing escaping from things?"

"Looking for some quiet," Eddie says and looks down at his unnaturally bare hands. He wishes he would've kept on his rings so he could fidget with them. "I was thinking about leaving, but I wanted to stay in case I found you."

Steve shifts a little on the bed, moving to face him. "And now that you've found me?"

Eddie glances up at him and considers it for a moment. "I hadn't really thought that far."

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "Well, I hope I'm not too disappointing."

"Not at all," Eddie insists, "Actually I thought you'd be-"

"An asshole?" Steve interjects quickly, his expression becoming oddly stoic.

Eddie shakes his head. "Preoccupied with someone else. Anyone other than me really."

Steve face softens and he leans in closer, eyes tracing over Eddie's face as if trying to figure out what's under the mask covering most of the upper half of his face. "You know you can tell me your real name, right?"

Eddie swallows and shakes his head. "Maybe I'll just leave a clue behind or something. Not my shoe though. I always hated that plot line."

Steve smiles brightly. "If it fit perfectly then why did it fall off?"

"Exactly!" Eddie says clapping his hands together excitedly. "Plus, with all that dancing, I just know that shoe did not smell good."

Steve throws his head back and laughs, and Eddie just watches him, filled with pride at being able to pull that reaction out of him. As his laughter dies down, Steve glances back down at the crown.

"You should put it on," Eddie blurts out. Steve looks up at him with his eyebrows raised. "I want to see the whole costume."

Steve reluctantly places the crown on his head and glances toward Eddie. It's strange, how it fits him so perfectly at first glance, but he can see how it personally affects Steve, as if it adds a weight to his entire demeanor.

"You look good, but I think I prefer you without," Eddie admits.

Steve quickly takes it off his head and places it behind him. "Yeah, that's because it messes up my best feature."

"That's strange, I didn't see it mess with your eyes, or your smile, or your nose, or your-"

Eddie's suddenly cut off when Steve leans in and kisses him. He just as quickly pulls away and says, "Sorry. I'm so sorry. I should've asked before I just-"

"Steve," Eddie says, laying a hand over Steve's.

Steve looks up at him nervously.

"Please do that again," Eddie says.

Steve sighs in relief and instantly closes the distance between them again, but Eddie is able to prepare for it, properly cupping his face and kissing him back. He feels like he's in a dream again as Steve deepens the kiss and runs his hands through the curls Eddie took so long to perfect. But he doesn't care at all.

There's a sudden loud ringing of a grandfather clock that pierces through the house causing the two of them to jump apart. "Jesus, I forgot that I told them they could play that creepy recording at midnight," Steve says and freezes. "Wait, it's midnight."

"And?"

"You're Cinderella."

Eddie tries to swallow down the pain of once again realizing that to Steve, he's just some random guy that he doesn't know. But Eddie smiles and says, "Well, lucky for you, the magic doesn't run out until one or two in the morning."

Steve smiles back and says, "Lucky me." But instead of kissing Eddie, he surprises him by asking, "Tell me something about yourself."

Eddie shrugs, trying to think of something that won't give him away. "I play the guitar."

"Oh, is that why you wear the..." Steve trails off, eyes flickering down to his neck before looking away. "Forget I said that. I thought I saw something."

Eddie's brows furrow, but he doesn't press him on it. "What about you? Tell me something most people don't know."

Steve thinks for a moment before smiling. "I almost didn't show up to this tonight. I was going to go trick-or-treating with some of the kids I sort of babysit. But Dustin told me they didn't need a babysitter tonight, so I ended up here."

The story twists at Eddie's heart a bit. Even with his disillusioned crush on Steve, he would've never guessed there was a group of kids he cared for so much.

Eddie reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Steve's. "I'm sure they miss you."

"I don't know. They were going in custom-made costumes for these characters they play as in D and D or something. They seemed really excited about it, so they've probably forgotten about me by now."

Eddie swallows down the entire spiel he wants to make about Hellfire Club and asking who the kids are so he might be able to recruit them and instead says, "Well, you're pretty unforgettable."

Steve smiles and opens his mouth to respond when there's a sudden loud knock on the door. Steve frowns and loudly says, "Occupied!"

A voice on the other side of the door loudly says, "I think your neighbors down the way ratted us out! Someone said the police are on their way."

"Shit," Steve mutters and runs his hands over his face. "I'll be right there! Just get rid of all the alcohol you can find and turn off the music. Party is over." He stands up and turns to Eddie offering his hand which Eddie takes.

They both stand up and Eddie realizes he's never stood directly next to him and is surprised that they seem to be the same height. God, it's so nice to be at eye level with him.

"I guess this is goodbye, Cinderella," Steve says sadly and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. "Will you leave me with at least a kiss?"

"You're too charming to say no to," Eddie jokes before he leans in and kisses Steve again, lingering in the kiss for as long as he can before they both pull away as there's another loud knock on the door.

Steve squeezes Eddie's shoulder one last time and says, "I promise to find you." He rushes out the door quickly after and Eddie is left standing in Steve's room alone. He takes a deep breath before he leaves slowly, distancing the time they were seen with each other.

Luckily, things are in a bit of a frenzy as he leaves so he doubts anyone noticed him slipping out of the same room as Steve. But on his drive home, Eddie realizes he gave Steve absolutely nothing to identify him with. He curses and debates turning back until he sees Hopper's police car pass him.

Steve's never going to find him.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The entire weekend, Eddie's friends have the pleasure of hearing him share the story over and over again while simultaneously complaining about not leaving something equivalent to a shoe behind.

"Well, it sounds like you at least left him with a lot of your saliva," Gareth says one time, and Eddie has to get Jeff to hold him back.

Monday morning is the worst when he realizes he has to see Steve and pretend like nothing happened. Because there's no way he's going to tell Steve that he's Cinderella and expect him to not punch him in the face.

Okay, Steve doesn't seem the type to do that, but there's no way he would be excited to hear that Eddie's the guy he swapped spit with - god, he really needs to get Gareth's words out of his head. But Eddie thinks he'll be able to deal with Steve never knowing than Steve rejecting him.

He sees Steve here and there in the hall but is luckily able to divert his path so Steve never directly sees him. Unfortunately, Eddie knows Steve will be at the same table as always at lunch which is right in his line of sight.

When he sits down, his friends are already nudging him and cracking jokes about Prince Charming and whatnot that pisses Eddie off. It makes things worse when he sees Steve sitting with his back to him, which he's never done before. At one point, Eddie just snaps, gets up, and leaves the cafeteria saying he needs a minute. He rushes off to his locker, digging around for his spare pack of cigarettes when he hears a pair of footsteps to his left.

He sighs and closes the locker door, expecting to see a teacher who has followed him, expecting him to do something suspicious. Instead, he gets the shock of his life when he sees Steve walking right up to him.

As Steve approaches, Eddie dumbly says, "Are you looking to buy something?"

Steve runs a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "No, I'm not, Cinderella."

Eddie's eyes widen. There's no way...

"Did you really think I didn't know who you were?" Steve asks, and Eddie can't get a read on him, but he seems... upset.

"I'm sorry?"

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair again. “Eddie, I know it was you, and I want to know why you've been avoiding me all day. Like did it really mean nothing to you? Is that why you didn't tell me your name?"

Eddie's head spins a little too fast at the revelation, so he clarifies, "Wait, you knew it was me the whole time?"

"Yes. I thought you were just really pretending to be in character or something, but today you were icing me out. And I know we haven't really talked before Friday night, but I thought I was clear about wanting to change that."

"Then why did you face with your back toward me in the cafeteria?" Eddie blurts out without thinking.

"There was something on my chair," Steve answers easily.

"Oh." Okay, maybe Eddie is an idiot but, "Wait, you really knew who I was and still, "he lowers his voice and leans in, "...kissed me?"

A look of realization crosses over Steve's face before he smiles. "Eddie, I've been staring at you for weeks now, and I just hadn't gotten the courage to talk to you yet. You're pretty intimidating."

"Me? I'm intimidating? You're literally called 'King Steve.'" Steve frowns at the title, but Eddie continues, "I never thought I had a shot with you without the mask on - or even with the mask on. I was avoiding you today because I didn't want you to realize it was me and reject me."

"I thought you called yourself Cinderella because I was dressed as Prince Charming," Steve laughs.

"I didn't even realize that was Cinderella's prince!" Eddie nearly shrieks, laughing loudly along with Steve. "We're a disaster," he says through his laughter.

Steve takes a deep breath, trying to kill his laughter a little to say, "I think we should start over a little and go on a date. This time without fake names and the police showing up."

"No promises about the second one," Eddie says with a big smile.

Steve smiles and looks at him as if waiting for something.

"What?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs anxiously. "Is that a yes to the date?"

"Oh! Christ. Yes! Yes, it is. Sorry," Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face, noting the way his hands don't catch on a mask this time. Steve Harrington is fine with him being Cinderella - more than fine with it really. He narrows his eyes at Steve. "And this isn't a trick?"

"I thought it would be more of a treat," Steve jokes.

Eddie rolls his eyes and simultaneously laughs at the horrible pun. "Did you know that you're really charming?"

Another laugh is startled out of Steve who quickly tries to hide it. He looks down at the ground and says, "I'm having a hard time thinking of a joke about a slutty vampire."

Eddie groans, "Don't remind me."

"I wouldn't mind if you reminded me," Steve flirts.

"Christ," Eddie says, feeling a blush quickly rise on his cheeks.

The bell for lunch rings again, and this time Eddie wants to curse the entity responsible for it.

"I'll slip you my number later so you can call me later, Cinderella" Steve announces, walking back to the cafeteria where he left his stuff.

"I'm charmed," Eddie replies with a wink that has Steve getting slightly flustered.

As he rounds the corner and gets out of sight, Eddie can't help but think about how Steve really kept his promise about finding him. He also can't wait to have proof that all his friends were wrong, except maybe he was a little bit of a slutty vampire... But it definitely paid off.

And it definitely was a very happy Halloween.

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

This Is Where You Stand With Me (part 2)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: none

Part 1 here

Y/N's POV

"Hola madre!" I say jokingly as my mother answered the phone.

"Too much influence from Sophie's boyfriend or what?" She chuckles.

"Yeah, something like that." I laugh adjusting myself on the couch. "How are you? What's new?" I ask.

"Nothing much, I'm just going back home from work. What's up with you?"

"I'm enjoying my day off from work." I say biting my lip not sure how's she going to react to my new "job" which I haven't told her about yet. But I'm certain she's not going to be thrilled about it.

"What do you mean y/n? What work?" As soon as she says "Y/N" I know there's no joking anymore.

"Well," I take a deep breath before I continue. "First of all, don't freak out, it's only my temporary job, you know while I'm here in Monaco with Sophie. And second of all, I started working for Ferrari practically. I'm managing their social media."

"Explain it a bit better, please. What does that mean?" She asks confused.

"Basically, I'm spending a lot of time with their drivers. I'm filming them for social media, like when they're getting ready for the race, asking them some questions, filming behind the scenes like what happens before the race, filming them training and stuff like that you know. And I edit those videos and then post them." I try to explain to her as simply as possible. but my mom, like most others, is not on the internet, she is not interested in the world of social media and probably still does not understand why anyone would be interested in any of this.

"So who are you filming then? Sophie's boyfriend and?"

"Carlos and Charles." As I say his name my mind wanders briefly to Charles and the grand prix from last weekend. I wonder how he is, and if he talked to Ava. and what happened between them afterwards. I also wonder if he has already thrown somewhere the bracelet I gave him. As I've already said, you just never know with him.

"Y/n?" My mom's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Sorry my thoughts wandered for a moment. What did you ask?"

"I asked if you are satisfied with that job? Are you treated well? What are those boys like?" Like any mother, she worriedly asks a million questions and I, like any other daughter, of course, will not tell her everything in detail.

I have always been close to my mother, but I never liked to share every detail of my life with her, even though she wanted to know it. But I just wasn't comfortable with her knowing all my private things. I believe that you can be close to your mother, without her being involved in all your decisions, attitudes and thoughts. We talk more or less about everything, but I have set some boundaries for myself about what I want to share with her and I think that's exactly why we have a relatively good and healthy relationship.

"Yeah, I mean it's not something I'll do forever, it's just a temporary type of thing, so while I'm here I might as well earn some money." I say. "And everybody's nice to me, of course, I already told you that Carlos is a wonderful person and boyfriend to Sophie, and Charles..He's not so bad either."

"You don't sound so convincing with the other one." She says referring to Charles.

"Don't worry really, both of them are very nice, it's just that I don't know Charles very well yet and I haven't spent much time with him so I can't say much about him." I say honestly.

While talking to her on the phone, I get up and head to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. While walking to the kitchen, I pass by the mirror and almost get scared when I see what I look like. Shaggy hair in a bun, without a hint of makeup, braless in an extra-large t-shirt with a print of Los Pollos Hermanos that also serves as my nightgown and house slippers on my feet. I guess I'm not one of those ex girlfriends that has a glow up after a breakup, but oh well.

"Well, as long as you're happy and safe, I'm fine with it." My mom says. "And besides, I think it's good for you that you left Manchester for a bit. Stay as long as you want."

"Really?" I am a bit taken aback and surprised by her words. "How come you think so?" I ask while waiting for coffee to be poured from the machine into the cup.

"I-I.." Just as she was about to say something the doorbell rings. Sophie went to lunch with Carlos, I doubt they forgot their keys.

"Mom, there's someone at the door, I'll have to call you a little later, okay?"

"Okay, we'll talk later, bye." She says and I hung up the phone.

I leave my phone on the kitchen counter and just as I'm about to go into the hallway to open the door, I accidentally pull the cup with my hand and spill hot coffee on my right thigh.

"Ouchh!" I almost scream in pain while the hot coffee continues to pour down my leg. "Fuck!!" My eyes get watery from the pain and stinging. Cursing my clumsiness I grab a cloth and wipe my thigh which is burning more and more and the doorbell keeps ringing. I go and open the front door when none other than Charles is standing leaning against the door frame.

"Charles, what are you doing here?" I ask with a sniff. I don't open the door all the way, but just peek out with my head. The last thing I needed is him here while I'm crying over my coffee burn and looking like I got mowed by a tornado.

"Y/n, are you alright? Why are you crying?" He asks, his expression immediately turned serious as he tries to enter.

"I just spilled hot coffee on myself. Please don't come in.." I really don't want him to see me like this.

"Let me help you." He says ignoring me and coming in anyway closing the door behind him.

"No, Charles..I-I'll be fine." I say pulling my t-shirt down with one hand and still holding the cloth with the other one.

"Let me see." He bends down and removes my hand with which I'm holding the cloth. "You got burned well." He says.

"Yeah, I can feel it. It hurts pretty bad."

"Come here." He waves his hand for me to follow him into the bathroom. It seems like he has already been in this apartment before. They probably had some gathering at Sophie's, so he knows where everything is.

"Sit there." He says pointing to the tub as he takes a small towel from the shelf under the sink and soaks it in cold water. I briefly feel a sense of relief as he kneels down in front of me and places a wet towel over my burn.

"You know, I really appreciate your help, but I feel terribly uncomfortable-"

"Yeah, I already saw that you don't have a bra on." He cuts me off and my cheeks instantly get as red as the burn on my thigh.

"You don't have to point it out like that.." I can't help but chuckle a little at his nonchalant response.

"You really do have to stop embarrassing yourself in front of me." He laughs.

"Why did you come here in the first place?" I ask shaking my head.

"I'm here to pick up Carlos. We agreed to go to the gym together, and he said he would be at Sophie's." He says taking the towel off my thigh and soaking it again. "So here I am. Where are the two of them anyway?"

"They went out for lunch. I think they should be back any minute now since they've been gone for a while." As he comes back with the cold towel I notice that he's wearing the red bracelet I gave him last weekend. He puts the towel over my thigh again and gently presses it.

"And what are you doing alone in the apartment, except destroying it?" I really like this funny side of Charles. For I moment I wished he could be like this all the time.

"Certainly not waiting for you." I playfully answer back.

"Yeah, sure you aren't." He says confidently and I roll my eyes at him. "I'm going to clean up that coffee you spilled on the floor." You can see the kitchen from the bathroom, so he definitely made sure I knew that he saw the mess I made.

While Charles is cleaning up in the kitchen, I quickly go to my room and put on shorts and a bra under my t shirt. Since he's already seen me at my worst, I decide not to fix my hair but to leave it messy like this. It's already too late now to look presentable anyway.

"Have you put on a bra yet?" He asks shamelessly as I enter the kitchen.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be very inappropriate?" I honestly ask him.

"Quite rude thing to say to someone who just helped you."

"Thank you. Charles. For your generous help." I say slightly sarcastically through gritted teeth. "Do you want me to check when they're coming back?"

"Why? Can't wait to get rid of me?"

"No." I roll my eyes. "I'm just asking if you're in a hurry."

"I'm not. I'll wait for him. I hope they'll be back soon." He says taking a seat on the high chair at the kitchen island.

"Do you want something to drink while you wait?"

"A glass of water will do."

I reach for a glass from the top kitchen unit and in the process I scratch the injured thigh on the handle of the lower element. I wince in pain and curse under my breath.

"Be careful, where is your towel?" Charles asks me getting up from the chair. Before I can say I left it on the tub, he's already back from the bathroom with it. "Sit there." He almost orders me and I do it obediently while he soaks the towel again in the kitchen sink. He moves my hand from my thigh and puts the wet towel over it.

I don't know why, but I decide not to tell him that I can do it myself. And he doesn't say it either but proceeds to hold his hand a little longer over the cold compress looking down at it and gently pressing on it. I lift up my head to look up at him and for a second we lock our eyes together without saying a word.

"I-I.." In a moment of nervousness I wanted to say something just to break the silence, but luckily I hear the front door open. Charles quickly moves his hand away and goes to the opposite side of the kitchen island clearing his throat.

"Hello..guys..?" Sophie says as Carlos and her enter the kitchen looking very confused at the scene before them.

part 3

[dellalyra]

Figure You Out 𓇊 Choso Kamo x Reader

Band AU!Choso 𓇊 friends to lovers 𓇊 7k

CW: smut, lots of it, filthy, swearing, fluff, p-in-v sex, fem reader, pining, mentions of alcohol, oral f!receiving, creampie, possessive choso, acc really sweet

A/N: My first AU! Also my first Choso writing! Based off and song included is Figure You Out by Vóila - I don’t own the song or anything I just love it and it gave me brainrot for this. Tonssss of requests coming up for family formations so stay tuned and also always if ur under 18 go away

When he met you, aged 5 – you were a ball of sunshine. A radiant angel that oozed love and warmth from every pore. The moment you sat beside him in the schoolyard, both too shy to join the other groups playing on your first day and offered him an animal cracker with nothing but a shy smile – he thinks it was then.

He’s pretty sure, because he can’t think of a moment since then that he hasn’t been hopelessly in love with you. You stayed glued to each other for the next 15 years, you practically moved in when his grandpa died – leaving him to care for a 10-year-old Yuuji alone – hell, you’d helped him forge the guardianship documents since he was only 15 himself.

Every teenage romance, every test, every class, your first kiss with the guy from your history class, his first kiss with the girl from his music class - you’d dealt with everything side by side.

It wasn’t your typical unreciprocated love though, not like he thought.

You pined for him equally. Every girl that passed his way, every hardship with raising Yuuji, every empty gig - you’d been there. Hell, you’d sat beside him as he got the tattoo on the bridge of his nose and applied ointment every day after to help the healing.

You remember being terrified on your first day of school. All of the other kids seemed bigger, louder, more frightening. Then you saw a boy sitting on the bench, legs hanging off with his dark, shaggy hair falling over his face. You decided to listen to your mom,

“I know it’s hard baby, but even if you can make one friend today - you’re doing amazing.”

So, you chose him.

You sat beside him quietly, thinking of what you’d want as an offer of friendship – something yummy.

So, you popped open your transformers lunchbox and silently tapped him on the shoulder, smiling – and offered him an animal cracker.

He had looked up at you, and your 5-year-old mind had never seen eyes so dark – eyes which soon crinkled in a gentle smile and a soft little ‘thank you.’

You think it was then.

That must have been the moment, because a day hasn’t passed since that you haven’t been in love with him.

If an omniscient outsider had been looking in on you both, they’d have seen identical trains of thought. Around 13, all of ‘those’ thoughts began. Yours always seemed to encompass dark eyes and dark hair and gentle hands. His always seemed to feature a sunshine smile, H/C glinting in the lamplight of his room and your soft, rose scented skin.

Not that either of you would say anything.

Things only got worse from there.

When you were about 14, you both realised you were in love with the other. But how could you ruin 9 years of friendship for something as silly as love?

At 16, you both realised that love wasn’t silly. Not when you worked in tandem to get you, him and Yuuji ready for school. Not when he smoked his first joint and got the munchies but only for your cookies. Not when he held back your hair when you got drunk and vomited for the first time. But how could you ruin a friendship like that, at the risk of losing the other.

So, nobody said anything.

Everyone knew.

Yuuji even knew, and he’s only 15 now.

At 18, after graduation, Choso’s big brain got him an internship at a lab, flexible hours so he could still care for his brother but decent pay. You took over your family's florist, the only think you ever wanted to do. Around that time, Choso’s true passion took flight too. His band, Death Paintings, began to book some small local shows. His songs, along with his band mates Eso and Chez – had started to try write some songs too, along with the alt rock covers the usually played.

Then, at 19 – you met him. Geto Suguru. Tall, dark and handsome (not that you had a type). You liked him, he liked you – you started dating. He was charming, smooth as fuck, fun to be around and smart.

Choso didn’t mind Geto a huge amount. He wasn’t a terrible guy, didn’t get pissy about your best friend being a guy like other guys had (probably because he and his best friend, Gojo, had a preternatural kind of ‘friendship’). He was pretty chill, nice to you. You didn’t laugh as much around him, but that was okay, he’d fill in the gaps. He hadn’t stayed completely celibate either, he’d dated a few people – one girl Yuki who was really cool and you ended up staying in contact with, but she left to travel the world with a parting message for Choso to tell you he loved you – fuck, she’d kick his ass if she knew he was still being a wuss. He’d hooked up with some people after some gigs too, frequently on nights you went home with a date too.

He remembers you rang him one night, saying Geto was taking you away for the weekend – he said that was awesome, and questioned why you felt panicked.

“Yeah, it’s great. But Cho, the Airbnb - it’s…” You flustered down the line.

“It’s what?” He replied, smirking at the sounds of you fighting to shut your suitcase in the background.

“It’s on the goddamn 50th floor of a skyscraper with panoramic views of the goddamn fucking city.” You huffed.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit!”

“Ya tell him?” He asked, flicking the pencil across the desk from where he’d been hitting down lyric ideas.

“And say what? ‘Oh, hello Geto thank you for this surprise trip to a ridiculously expensive penthouse for the weekend – sadly, you gotta shove your plans in the fucking trash because I’m terrified of heights, bye!’”

“Maybe word it differently, but yeah, that’s the gist.”

I’d never forget shit like that, he thinks.

Stop being a pick-me, Jesus Christ Choso. He also thinks.

“Right, we’ll – I gotta go psych myself up to spend 2 days sleeping in a collapse waiting to happen. Love ya, Cho.”

I love you too.

Fuck, he should just say it. Maybe it wouldn’t go as bad as he thinks.

But he never does. He just stays quiet. He won’t lose you, he’ll take you however he can have you in his life.

He brought you on a date one weekend too – you told him about it over ramen on Sunday night, a picnic in a cute park where you and Choso had tried tandem biking when you were younger – but Geto had driven you there in his Benz. Flashing wealth wouldn’t steal a heart like yours. He remembers the glow on your face as you both failed miserable at the biking for about an hour until you both got the hang of it – he swears your giggles and peals of laughter that day has to be the sound you hear when you get to heaven.

He introduced you to some new people, who you were going for drinks with one Friday night too – you didn’t really want to go, but Geto seemed to really want you to meet them. They were successful people, he thought you could get contacts to expand your floristry business to an international level by hanging around them. You told Choso you weren’t going to do that over your dead body, your shop was yours. It was quiet, it was peaceful, it was a family business. It did pretty well financially, making enough to make you pretty comfortable for a girl in her early twenties – but you worked hard, and you were damn good at your job.

“Then why are you going?” He shrugged as you watched him pluck at the strings of his guitar aimlessly.

“Geto seems excited. Gotta hang out with your man’s friends, right?”

His friends love you. They plead with him daily to confess to you. They actually already have a scrapbook on how they want to split best man duties at the wedding.

He was unloading a delivery of flowers one day into your shop with you, he had a free day and offered to help you out with some stuff around the place. You immediately jumped at the chance to spend time with him, seeing him – your favourite person – there, in your favourite place. The boy you loved helping you run the life you loved – shit, you thought, I’m dating Suguru, I can’t say shit like that anymore. You have to get over him. It was hot that day, your breezy light blue sundress even feeling too hot, so Choso was boiling in his black cargo pants and black T-shirt and was completely unaided by the weight of the buckets of fresh cut flowers he was carting back and forth. He paused for a moment in the back room of your store as you began to organise the delivery. Chugging his water, you noticed a bead of condensation running down the slope of his throat.

I wanna lick it off. Shut the fuck up, inner Y/N.

It was like having an angel and a devil on your shoulders.

But Choso only made it worse.

The heat was obviously too much in his all black ensemble – and so he could continue comfortably, he pulled his black T-shirt over his head by the back of the neck and left it on the counter.

Thank heavens to anyone who was listening – that he didn’t spare a glance at you.

You eyes widened and jaw fell as the sight before you. Muscled, thick arms and broad shoulders – scattered with tattoos, including the one on his bicep of a small daisy that you drew – fell into a chiselled chest, and abs that would make Adonis weep for their beauty. The sweat made his pale skin glisten and all you wanted in that moment was to feel his solid planes up against your skin – feel his heat seeping into you, into every single crevice. Your eyes flicked up, and the action of removing his shirt had caused some of the hair from his twin buns atop his head to fall loose – they fell and framed his face, drawing focus to the eyes you fell in love with. You didn’t really need the help today, you just needed to see him. To be near him, to hear his voice and see his smile. He’s so perfect, you think, you’d never met someone with a heart as big as Choso.

You heard a cough behind you, and you spun around.

“Oh my god! Suguru! I thought you were working today!” You hoped he didn’t notice your ogling, as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Suguru really was gorgeous, like model beautiful. You’re lucky to have him, you repeat to yourself, and it’s true but he’s not - don’t finish that thought.

“Hi baby, I am. I’m just on my lunch break but I had a surprise for you I wanted to drop off.” He says as he kisses your cheek and hands you an envelope, then notices Choso.

“Hey Choso, how you doing, man? How was your show last weekend?” He asks him.

Stop being such a good guy and let me hate you.

“Hey man, yeah it was a good turnout – got a couple more coming up soon so come along if you get a chance.”

Why am I inviting him? Shut up, Choso.

Their conversation is interrupted by your gasp.

“Suguru! Wow! This, these must have been really hard to get, thank you so much – I can’t wait to go with you.” You smile, but Choso can see it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s no problem, you said you like him when I was playing him in the car a while back, so I got us front row.” He said, and Choso quietly excused himself, not before sneaking a peak at the concert tickets in your hand.

Your favourite artist was playing next month one city over, how did he not get you tickets for that instead? I’m on six waiting lists for them.

When he gets home that night - he’s pent up. He’s not angry, or frustrated. He’s not sad or resigned. Maybe he is, maybe he’s all of those things. He’s just feeling so fucking much right now that after saying goodnight to his brother and his boyfriend, Megumi he makes his wait into his makeshift studio in the back of the house.

The second he sits down, and pen meets paper, the words fall out like a fucking tsunami. After the words, come the notes. After the notes, comes the riff and it snowballs. Soon enough, he’s got a whole fucking song on his hands.

The next day, he rings Eso and Chez and they come running over to listen to what he’s come up with.

When he plays it for them, jaws fall slack.

“Holy fuck bro.”

“Fuck – I’m gonna try fall in love with my best friend if I get to be able to write shit that good.” Chez muses.

“Please fucking don’t, that’s me. I see enough of you as it is.” Eso cringes.

That afternoon and evening and well into the night, the drums and bass are added and it’s perfect.

“We’re playing this next weekend at The Tech, no questions.” Eso announces.

Choso clenches his jaw, this song – you can’t hear it. It would ruin everything, this perfect balance he’s so carefully curated.

But they were right, his soul went into that song and it’s fucking amazing.

“Fine. But absolutely – Y/N cannot know. Nobody tells her about the gig, she can’t come and she sure as shit can’t hear this song.”

Yuuji heard all this, because he’s eavesdropping. Megumi smacks him across the head, but he doesn’t listen. He knows what he has to do, and he whips out his phone.

Yuuji: Heyyyyyyyyy so IDEA Cho is playin a gig next weekend and he’s all shy about it n shit bc he’s dumb and won’t tell anyone but u should totally not say anything and surprise him!!! He won’t tell u abt it but it wld be a fun surprise for him!!!! Besties and all that wooohoooo

Your phone pinged with a message, and you smiled at the message. Choso had always been bashful about his talents, and you usually had to hound him to get the details of his gigs – but Yuuji was your little spy, and surprising him was a great idea, so after replying in the affirmative, you set your phone back down and continued dinner with Suguru.

The week came and went, and Saturday soon arrived. The gig was at 10pm, so at 6pm when your doorbell rang you were surprised.

Behind the door, stood Geto. His pretty face seemed uneasy in place of its usual languid smirk.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Oh, shit he did see; he saw me basically salivating over choso in the store last week. Gigs up.

“Eh, sure. This sounds ominous.” You awkwardly giggle as he walks in, hands in his pockets and sits at your kitchen island.

There’s silence for a minute, as you pour some coffee.

“Neither of us are being honest. With ourselves, or each other.” He shrugs, a small smile on his face.

You cock your head, a motion for him to continue.

“You’re in love with Choso.” He sighs, but still smiles.

You freeze. You were right, gigs up. You lean on the counter and look at the ceiling. There was no point in acting anymore, and you didn’t think you had the energy to pretend otherwise anymore.

“I’m sorry Suguru.” Your tears well up now, guilt overtaking you.

“Don’t be, I’m not.” He shrugs, sipping the coffee.

“What?” Your head whips to him.

“You’re in love with Choso, I’m in love with Satoru.” He smiles.

You’re actually… not shocked. It makes sense. Everything does. It all makes sense.

There’s a beat of silence before you catch each other's gaze, and you both begin to softly laugh.

“We’re fucking idiots, Suguru.” You say, running to wrap him in a hug.

“You’re an idiot. It’s just you now. Satoru told me he loved me last night, I told him I loved him too, have done since high school. You’re probably gonna hate me but – it was the best night of my life.” His lazy smirk has returned.

Despite just hearing you were technically just cheated on – you feel elated.

“Suguru, truly – I am so happy for you. You’re a good man – and I’m – I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you from the get-go. Truth is I’ve always been in love with Choso and, I’ve been trying to get over him for years.” The tears are back again. You try to will them away, but Suguru swipes them off your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“I know.”

“You’re still going to his gig tonight, right?” He asks.

You nod.

“Go get ready. I gotta go, but – I am sorry too. For how things worked out, but I’m glad I met you. Tell him tonight, Y/N. I think you’ll be surprised.” Suguru says, waltzing toward the door with that easy confidence that only he has.

“I’m sorry too, Suguru. I’m happy for you, really.” You shrug, smiling.

He opens the door and just before he leaves, he turns.

“Wear that baby blue set under your outfit - it’s fucking sexy as hell.” He says, winking at you as he closes the door and your jaw drops.

You’re left alone and as you stand there; you break into laughter.

That might have been the weirdest break up in history.

But – maybe, this was your sign.

If things could work out for Satoru and Suguru – maybe you could get your happy ending too.

By 10.15pm, you were walking in the door of the bar. The place was packed like a tin of sardines, and the first thing you heard was the Smokey tones of Choso’s voice mingled in with cheers and drunken singing from the audience, people were clamouring to the front to get a better view and place to enjoy the gig. The place must have been completely sold out, by the looks of things. You went to the bar and ordered a Gin and Tonic and sang along under your breath to the songs you’ve heard thousands of times as you sat in on practice sessions as the guy's test audience.

After about 15 minutes, you found a nice spot to lean against a pillar far enough away from the stage that you won’t be seen. You just want to enjoy the view for a while, he looks so beautiful under the lights. Signature buns gleaming with sweat under the lights and guitar hanging loosely off of his shoulder, another all-black outfit – tight black long-sleeved shirt with rips around the collar and black cargo’s again – your favourite on him. They make his ass look damn good.

You could hear murmurs in the audience as people passed, everything ranging from “Damn, I’d climb that front man like a tree,” to “the things I’d let their lead singer do to me would have me sent to hell,” and it make your skin crawl. Not that you disagreed, actually the opposite. You never used to feel such jealousy, hell you had set him up with some people but sometimes it reared its ugly head and tonight it was raging – pulsing through your veins like it was making its home there. You shake your head, looking back up at him. He looks so at home, so peaceful on the stage – that usual tension and awkwardness in his shoulders are gone when he’s on stage. You think happy Choso is the most beautiful Choso.

You were broken out of your thoughts by Choso’s words.

“Um – next songs a new one.” He murmurs into the mic and is met with cheers and applause.

The beat starts up, and you don’t recognise it. You always heard the songs first, before the other band members sometimes. You let yourself relax; he’s probably just forgotten. You take a swig of your drink.

I heard he got you a penthouse

on the westside when will he learn

That you're afraid of heights?

Choso’s voice croons through the room and you blink – wait, like that weekend Geto took you on? Did he take inspiration from your situation? That’s cool!

I heard he got you a new Benz

with the white wheels when will he learn

That you like to tandem bike?

Like the picnic weekend? He really had! That’s cool that your slightly mismatched relationship had been fodder for this song. No wonder he hadn’t told you, he was probably worried you’d be mad.

Mm mmh and I hate that

Wait, what?

His voice begins to swell, and the passion in his voice is something you’ve never heard in his covers of other artists, or in songs written by the other boys. This was new, the pain, the raw emotion seeping into his chords was so powerful it felt like the energy of the room changed completely.

And then, you heard the lyrics.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

Your heart stops, you drop the glass you’re holding but the sound is swallowed by the rasping delight of Choso’s voice booming through the speakers as he holds the mic and you stare at his face, eyes closed, and you could swear you can see his very soul in his body at that moment.

Because it hits you,

This song.

You weren’t just some inspirations.

You were the song.

He wrote it.

About you. For you.

He loved you.

Holy shit.

I heard he got you some new friends

with some big dreams when will he learn

That you already got your own? (Mm mmh)

Oh, I heard he got you the front row

at the rap show when will he learn

That you like The Rolling Stones?

You began to walk forward, still near the back of the crowd but close enough now that you’re within range for him to see you.

The chorus finishes, and he opens his eyes and his heart nearly drops from his body and his blood runs icey. You were there, standing, slack jawed and staring him in the eyes. You’ve heard the fucking song and you fucking know. It’s not hard to figure out when you hear it. How did you know? How were you here? He locks eyes with you, and sees tears glinting even from this distance but then – the corners of your lips, they quirk up into a smile. Wide, and so beautiful his breath almost catches. Your hands fly up to your mouth in surprise. He hopes to whatever power there is that’s a good reaction, because fuck, this is make it or break it. This could be 15 years of friendship and the love of his life gone.

Fuck it, damage is done now.

Might as well make it a good show.

And I've been thinking

Of all the little things

That you've been missing

When will you learn?

He wants you to understand, he needs you to feel what he’s telling you in this song. So, he pulls every fibre of himself, every ounce of love he’s ever had for you and spills it onto his guitar and down the mic.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold

Figure you out (mm mmh)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

to figure you out.

His eyes never leave yours, and your hand drops from your mouth and he almost missed the moment of your mouth.

Four tiny words. He can’t even hear them over his own voice and music, or the cacophonous crowd.

But he sees them.

You see them on your lips.

I love you too.

He can’t help it. The smile takes over his body as he holds one of his hands in a fist to his heart as he stares at you through the crowd. Eso and Chez have seen what’s going on now too, and the drums and bass get some extra oomph poured into them at the sight.

I could treat you so much better

I've known you forever figured you out

You throw your hands up into the air, he saw you. He heard you; he knows. He knows you love him.

He loves you.

Fuck, he loves you too.

I could love you with my eyes closed

Kiss you with a blindfold, yeah

Figure you out (Figure you out, yeah)

I might hold you with my hands tied

Show you I'm the right guy

To figure you out

With a final cheer, the song comes to a close and without even a goodbye to the crowd, Choso’s guitar is left abandoned on the stage as he pushes through the room toward you and then you feel large, warm, calloused and oh so sweaty hands grip your waist and your feet leave the ground as you notice you’ve been hauled by Choso onto his shoulder and he’s walking toward the backstage area with you.

Privacy.

How very Choso.

The sound dies down but you can’t even find your footing when your feet touch the ground because before you even open your eyes, you’re pinned against a wall – and you’re suddenly engulfed in the smell of sweat, smoke and sandalwood cologne. Hands are on your cheeks and then lips are on yours and this might be heaven. You meet Choso’s lips with equal passion and ferocity – years of longing and desire and love spilling into a kiss because words just won’t be enough right now, and he just has to taste you.

He tastes like rum and coke, his favourite drink to have before a show and with a hint of spearmint gum and his lips just slot so perfectly against yours you think that they were puzzle pieces destined to fit like this forever. One hand finds its way into your hair, and the other to your waist to pull you flush against his chest and yours find purchase in his raven hair, wild from the show. You vaguely hear a door open and close – as if someone came in then very quickly left, but you couldn’t care less. Not when right now Choso was everywhere. His hands clutched you tight against him and you’ve never felt more on fire than you did in that moment.

The need for oxygen soon overtakes your need for Choso and you pull your lips away. You rest your forehead against his, both pairs of eyes still closed, but you can see the small smile on his flushed face.

“Do you mean it?” He whispers.

“Every word.”

“Me too.”

“I’d hope so – you just sang a whole song about it.” You laugh and he follows suit.

He kisses you softly, almost chaste.

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids, since you gave me an animal cracker to buy my friendship.” He says, and you feel his lips move as he speaks.

“I’ve love you too Cho – since you let me buy your friendship with an animal cracker.”

You can feel him smiling into the kiss now, it grows messy – all teeth and giggles and shaking hands.

He stills.

And pulls away.

“Oh my god – we can’t, you’ve a boyfriend. What about Geto?” His eyes look panicked.

“In love with Satoru. We broke up earlier – he knew I was in love with you, told me to come and get my man.” You lean into him, cupping his cheeks so he looks straight down at you and his gaze softens.

“I’m all yours, Cho. I always have been.”

And that’s the final straw. You hear a sound you never thought the man capable of making as he grabs the back of your hair and pulls you in by your hip and fucking growls into your ear. You shiver.

“We’re leaving.” He says, grasping your hand and dragging you out the back door. Before you can think he’s lifted you onto the back of his motorcycle and plopped a helmet on your head, then he’s swinging a leg over and you wrap your arms around his stomach – as he revs the engine to life and takes off. You know he’s going back to your place – but you can’t focus when you can see his thick thighs flexing as he straddles the motorcycle and the purring of the engine does little to quell the heat between your thighs. As he parks up, he lifts you off the bike and once again throws you over his shoulder as you squeak in delight – he was so much larger than you, and the feeling of being manhandled like this was making you weak in the knees.

He takes your keys from your purse and opens the door, slamming it shut behind him and not even pausing as he strides straight for your room.

You’re unceremoniously tossed onto the bed and you love it and you squeeze your thighs together in the hopes of some form of friction where you need it most. He stands at the edge of your mattress and rips his shirt over his head before he falls down on top of you. Arms caging around your head and one thigh slotted between yours, the kiss that follows is all consuming. Devouring. You place your hands through his hair, pulling his silky raven hair from its buns and you tug slightly, and he bucks his hips into yours with a groan.

“Angel – please. Later, tomorrow, whenever you want - I’ll make love to you, properly. Show you how much I love you but right now, I gotta fuck you. I need’ta feel you, alright?” He growls into your ear, restraint quavering.

His words send a flush of wetness into your already ruined panties. That’s what you want, no - that’s what you need.

“Cho – look at me.”

And he does, the fire in his eyes is scorching and you stare right into it.

“I want you to fucking ruin me. Please, Cho.” You whine, and he can’t take it anymore.

Your shirt is being tugged over your head, and you can see him being so gentle - he’s trying to be, as least. You reach around and unclip your bra, flinging it across the room as he shimmy’s your jeans and panties down your legs. Had had worn the baby blue lingerie set – not that it mattered how in a heap on your bedroom floor.

Your senses clicked back into place and you were brought back down to reality. You were bare, naked as the day you were born, laying on your bed and about to have sex with Choso. Your Choso. Your best friend, your other half. The man you have always sworn you were destined for. You can’t help the tears that well up as you look at him. The light from your lamp behind him illuminated him in the most beautiful light and your breath hitches with a sob which startles him.

“Fuck, angel - what’s going on? Am I taking it too fast? We can stop – I don’t expect anything. Just talk to me.” He sits beside you now and you don’t even let him finish his sentence.

“I’m just happy, Choso. I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.” You say as you flip you both around so you’re straddling his thighs.

“Fuck angel, you’ve no idea. Always had me so fucking hard from doing nothing, have me feeling like a virgin all over again.” He says as you unbuckle his trousers and start pulling them down his thighs, as he finishes the job for you.

He pauses for a moment, his turn for a reality check.

His eyes scan your naked figure, no art could do this justice. No dream of what you looked like under your clothes, no wet dream could come close.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on. How are you even real?” He says, gripping your hips and sitting up to capture your lips once more.

“You’re one to talk.” You tease as you gasp, feeling his desire clearer now with just his black boxers between you.

All softness was gone now.

He laid you on your back, laid a big hand over your lower stomach to keep you still and spread your thighs with his other.

“Gotta fuckin taste you. God, such a pretty pussy. Knew you’d be just as perfect down here.” He’s not even talking to you now, just rambling.

And he wastes no time in getting what he wants, face diving into your slickness and tongue exploring your folds like a man parched. The feeling of his wet mouth on your most sensitive parts makes you whine and gasp as he laps at you like an ice cream cone – once he wraps his pretty pink lips around your little Pearl of nerves you know you’re done for. You were already so worked up, you know you won’t last long. You didn’t even realise he’d slid a finger inside until he thrust in a second and curled them up into your squishy spot inside making you gasp out a stuttered version of his name and he groans into you – the sound of his name on your lips being said with such pleasure could almost make him cum on the spot, and he realises she’s grinding his hips into the mattress like a horny teenager. He’s ready for use his trump card now, he knows your close – can feel you clenching your thighs around his head. He stops suckling on your clip and you protest the lack of stimulation until you feel it – oh my god, how had you forgotten? The small, solid, metal nub laving against your clit was his fucking tongue piercing and within seconds, he had you gushing all over his face and fingers and moaning out like you never have before – vision completely white as you body shakes and waves of pleasure control your movements. He lets you ride out your high on his face before lifts away, reaching for his pants pocket before a tiny shaking hand is stopping him.

“Cho - I’m clean, and I’ve a coil, and I know you’re clean too. You don’t gotta wear one.” Your lashes flutter at him as his heart stutters.

“Angel, are you asking me to fuck you raw?” He asks, incredulous as your wide eyes blink innocently as if you don’t know what you’re doing, and you nod up at him.

He lifts his head to look at the ceiling to try and regulate his breathing, so he doesn’t just finish then and there. He must have done something really good in another life.

Your eyes scour his body, and you land on the bulge in his boxers, it looks big, heavy straining against the fabric, and you can see the wet patch where his tip has been leaking arousal this whole time. You wrap your fingers into the waistband and pull them down to free him. His pretty pick cock slaps up against his abs, spreading shiny pre across the sweaty skin there and oh he’s big. You always thought he would be, from outlines you’ve seen in swimming trunks and sweatpants. He’s perfect, 7.5 inches or so – and girthy, so deliciously girthy that you know the stretch will send you to heaven. You wanna taste him, but you need him inside you like, yesterday.

He hissed when you grip his length and spit into your hand to allow you to pump him a few times before you lay back and open your legs, inviting him into you. In the blink of an eye, your hand darts into your bedside drawer and a bottle of lube appears, no matter how prepped and wet you are you know you’ll need it to take him.

He takes it from you and exhales a breath as he squeezes some onto his cock and spreads it around and the sight is glorious. You always had a thing for guys jacking off, and seeing Choso palm and tug at his own dick was peak dream-fuel.

He spreads your folds with deft, nimble guitarists fingers and you hook your ankles around his back as he begins to push in and you both hiss at the feeling, the first taste of your union.

“You good, angel?” He asks, always such a sweet boy.

You bite your lip and nod at him, clutching at his back to pull him deeper and he obliges by filling you the rest of the way with one smooth thrust and when he bottoms out a string of profanities from both of you fills the air of the room. You lust addled brains pause for a second.

“I love you, Cho.”

“I love you too, angel. Please, be mine?”

“I’ve always been yours. All yours Cho. Make me yours, claim me.” You whimper and with that he pulls out only to slam his hips back into yours and he begins to barrel his hips into yours with the speed and force of a jackhammer and your breath is taken from your body.

“You want me to claim you? Fuck, such a perfect cunt. Made for me, you were made for me. I’m all yours, forever – angel. Jesus, squeezing me so tight. Cock’s all yours, angel. I love you.” He groans as he watches himself thrusting into your wetness.

He hooks your ankles over his shoulders and you can see the bulge in your tummy from how deep he is and you wordlessly grab his hand and press it to your tummy so he can feel himself in you. He’s possessive, that much is clear – so you know it’ll drive him wild.

He actually fucking whimpers and you’ve never heard anything hotter and you attach your lips to his neck and suck a dark bruise onto the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he bites down on your throat leaving clear indication of where he’d been. You feel your peak approaching fast and he does too, he pulls down to watch your face as you cum.

“Cum for me pretty, I’m so close – where can I – fuck, where can I cum?” He whimpers into your skin.

“Inside Cho. Please.” You reply, sounding so fucked out that his hips grow sloppy and he twitches into your magic spot and you clench around him, and the fluttering feeling of your tight walls as you cum around his cock sends him over the cliff with the most powerful orgasm of his life.

He thrusts a few more times, savouring the feeling of your heat. As he pulls out, his eyes are drawn to the sight of your mixed spends leaking from your clenching hole and he swears he’d immediately hard again.

You grab his shoulders and pull him beside you, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re incredible.” You whisper.

“No more than you, angel.” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose as you giggle.

He relaxes and clutches you into him.

“So, ehm – are we like, yaknow – do you wanna… maybe?” His eyes dart around the room and you struggle to connect the lustful, dominant, possessive man who’s just fucked you into your mattress with the shy, kind boy trying to talk to you now.

“Yes Cho. We’re dating. I’m your girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” You giggle, swinging your legs from the bed and waltzing to the en suite door.

“That’s the best sentence I ever heard.” He says, with a hazy, fucked out smile.

You whisper sweet nothings into the night as you clean up together, and find time for another round before you finally drift off in each others arms, limbs entwined. No more separate beds at sleepovers, just wrapped up in each other.

Nothing had ever felt more right.

A 15 year old boy, curled up watching a film with his boyfriend jumped when his phone buzzed.

Big Bro: I know it was u little shit that told her abt the gig. She heard the song.

Yuuji: idk what ur talking about 😇😇😇😇😇

Big bro: idiot. But I’m not coming home tonight - I’m staying at hers. So, thank you – even if ur a menace to society. Megumi can stay, u can stay w ur bf bc I’m stayin w my gf.

And the boyfriend in question jumps out of his skin when Yuuji jumps up cheering.

“They got together! ‘Gumi! Look, Y/N’s his girlfriend! YES!” Yuuji is jumping in the air like he just won the lottery.

Megumi rolls his eyes, but mutters.

“Fucking finally.”

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 21: History

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 22, Part 23 (Coming Soon)...

AN: Welcome Back!! The next few chapters are going to be the months between season 2 and 3. Kind of filling in the gaps and working on the dynamic between Billy and the Reader.

Word Count: 4,668

Warnings: language

Things are different when you return to school on Monday. You can’t say for sure, but it feels like Billy is hovering. It’s such a shift that you seem to notice almost immediately. 

From where you sit, in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, you can see him a few spots over. He leans against his driver side door, smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling around his lips as he lingers in the cold. You write it off as him getting one more fix before entering the crowded hallways, something you had to prepare yourself for in your own way. 

“Something's off.” Steve comments next to you. Turning your gaze back to him, he leans forward in his seat fussing with his hair in the vizor mirror. “It’s just not… working, like it normally does.” He grumbles, running his fingers through his hair again. He sighs, sagging back into his seat. 

“You could try a haircut.” You quip, half joking. You would never tell him but in the past few weeks he had let his hair grow out and was beginning to look a bit shaggy. Steve rolls his eyes, snapping the vizor closed.

“Not helping.” He says dejectedly. You shake your head, smiling gently at him. This was not the first time Steve had become fixated on some aspect of himself, it was becoming a weekly occurrence. 

“You look great Steve.” you say, trying to sound as reassuring as you can. Steve turns his eyes to you, lifting a brow.

“Really?” he asks. You nod. “Even looking like a mop?” He asks frustrated, raking his fingers through his hair again. It was interesting at first, seeing Steve so self conscious when he is typically obnoxiously confident. But the more it happened the more you realize that maybe this has always been a part of him deep down. You know that it has something to do with Nancy and him breaking up. He would never admit that though, so instead you do your best to be a friend when he gets like this. 

“Yes Steve, and you don’t look like a mop.” You add. Steve glances at you, his face relaxing slightly at your words. Seemingly pacified, he smiles gently.

“To be fair, I think it’s the shampoo at your house.” He comments, twisting to reach into the backseat for his bag. You scoff at his words, rolling your eyes. 

“To be fair,” you mock his tone. “If you don’t like it, you can shower at your own house.” You respond, Steve chuckling. Both of you know that you are only joking.

Steve has spent many nights at your house since the gate closed. Typically it was on nights when your mom worked and Steve’s parents were gone. You both agreed that it was better to stick together and neither of you would ever admit it, but you both slept better with the other there. 

He spent the night so often that he constructed a makeshift cot that could slide under your bed easily so he wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor. You know in the back of your mind that it’s strange for the two of you to spend so much time together, but it was also strange to fight interdimensional monsters and secret government agencies so… you don't focus on it too much. 

“I’m just saying, I’m trying to help you too.” He says, cutting the engine as you gather your bag from the floor.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, cutting your eyes at him.

“I didn’t want to bring this up but… your hair is a bit flat.” He says with a grimace, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears. 

“My hair is flat?” you say in fake disbelief. “I can’t believe you would say that to me.” You place a hand over your chest, sounding hurt. You angrily open your door. “How dare you.” you say glaring at him as you climb out of the car, slamming the door closed for good measure. You can hear Steve laughing as he hops out of the car, following after you.

“Someone had to say it.” He says, jogging to catch up with you. You glare at him again, trying your best to keep up the facade. But, Steve’s smile is contagious and you are forced to crack a smile. 

“Fine, just bring over your shampoo.” You say, rolling your eyes. 

The two of you walk towards the school and as you pass Billy he finishes his cigarette before moving towards the school as well. Part of you wonders if he was waiting. You tell yourself that’s silly. But the rest of the day you feel like he is one step behind you. Like there is an invisible string connecting the two of you. 

You vaguely wonder if it has anything to do with the dance the two of you shared behind the gym. You have to admit, you’ve had a hard time putting it out of your mind. The way he had pressed you against him, holding you securely as the two of you moved together. The way his warm breath had mixed with yours in the small space separating you. How his hands had felt gripping your waist, guiding your hips against his, slowly intertwining your bodies in time with the music. It made you feel silly every time your mind turned to it. It was just a dance.

Although, when Steve had asked you how the dance went you didn’t tell him. You told yourself that he was only asking to hear about Nancy, that he didn’t want to know, not that you didn’t want to tell him. Even now as you think about it, your face feels warm and your stomach flips. But it’s hard not to think about when his eyes are following you through the crowded halls. You feel like an animal being stalked. You do your best to ignore it for the majority of the day, until you get to history. 

You freeze in the doorway as you enter. Instead of sitting in his usual spot, beside the window, in the back, Billy has moved to the seat right next to yours. You don’t know what to do. His head is down, pulling something out of his bag. You could probably run before he sees you. Before you can decide, someone behind you gives you a shove.

“Get out of the way, statue.” the girl grumbles, moving past you. You mumble an apology, stepping into the classroom. The burning in your face is only amplified when Billy looks up at you. Swallowing thickly, you force your legs to move. There are no assigned seats in this class, but it was an unspoken rule that everyone sits in the same spots. You keep your eyes down as you slide into your seat. You can feel Billy watching you.

You busy yourself, pulling out your textbook and notebook. Looking up, you see the boy that normally sits next to you enter. He sees Billy in his spot and there is a moment where you think he will say something. But when Billy locks eyes with him, you know he won’t. Instead he tightens his grip on the strap of his bag and moves to Billy’s old spot without a word.

You feel bad. You hadn’t taken his seat, Billy had. Somehow you feel partially responsible. You want to offer him your spot. You sit near the front to force yourself to focus on the material, but you can sit in the back today. 

You grab your books and bag, preparing to stand and switch seats with the boy. 

“How was your weekend?” Billy’s voice startles you slightly. You stop, turning slightly to see his eyes on you. He watches you, waiting for an answer. 

“What?” you blurt out. Billy sighs, running a hand over his face. 

“I said, how was your weekend?” He repeats, appearing mildly irritated. 

“I dont- It… It was good.” you answer hesitantly, very confused by the sudden question. Billy nods at your response, his brows pulling together.

“That’s good.” He responds, somewhat stiffly. You are about to ask him what is going on when Mr. Willson walks in, instructing the class to quiet down. 

You settle back into your seat, having missed your opportunity to switch spots. You open your textbook to today's lesson and do your best to absorb the information. History is your weakest subject. You enjoy hearing about it somewhat, but when it comes to recalling specific dates and analysis… you were hopeless. You alway leave class feeling drained and retaining little to nothing. 

It does not help that you can feel Billy’s eyes on you during class. Every time you glance at him he is looking away but your gut is persistent. Finally, the bell rings.

“Before you all leave, I have your graded exams from last week on my desk, make sure you grab them on your way out!” Mr. Willson calls over the sound of the class packing to leave. Securing your things, you head to the front to grab your test. Looking over the papers, other kids grabbing theirs, you can't seem to find yours. You’re about to ask Mr. Wilson when you feel a tap on your shoulder.  Turning, Billy stands holding a paper out to you. 

“Here, I grabbed yours by mistake.” he explains. You take the paper, your eyes catch on the red ink scrawled at the top. Your heart sinks at the score. 58%. Fuck. You should have studied more. To be honest, you found it hard to motivate yourself after dealing with yet another world ending threat.

“Thanks.” You mumble, folding the paper hoping to hide the red ink. It’s impossible that he hasn’t already seen it though. You keep your eyes down, your face burning, as you try to step past him. He moves in front of you, blocking your path. Looking up, you meet his eyes staring down at you. 

“I could help you.” He says. Your eyes widen in shock.

“What?” Billy rolls his eyes.

“I’m really starting to think you have a hearing problem, loca.” He comments. “I said, I can help… With history.” He clarifies, gesturing to the paper clutched in your hands. You feel utterly mortified. First, Billy had seen your bad test score and now he is pitying you. 

“What makes you think you can help?” You ask bitterly, shoving the folded paper into your back pocket. Billy smirks, holding up his own test for you to see. Sure enough, his score mocks you in green ink. 98%, with a small smiley face. Billy shrugs, lowering the paper with a smug smile.

“History is one of my strong points.” He adds. You grit your teeth together to keep yourself from biting back at him.

“No thanks.” you say firmly, moving to step around him again. He lets you this time, but quickly falls into step beside you. You grip the straps of your bag tighter. 

“I’m serious. I can help, I’m actually a pretty good teacher.” He says. You keep your eyes forward. You can already feel people watching the two of you walking together. 

“And what do you get out of this?” You ask, quickly navigating your way to your last class. There is a pause before Billy responds. 

“Nothing.”  he answers simply. You scoff. No one does anything for no reason, there has to be an angle, an explanation. But, the failed test in your back pocket is far from your first. You know that if you want to stand a chance applying to schools you need to raise your grade before graduation. You come to a stop outside your next class and turn to him, his expression is calm, his cool blue eyes watching you. 

“Let me get this straight. You want to tutor me in history… for nothing?” you ask point blank. Billy’s eyes remain on yours, wavering only slightly.

“Yeah.” he confirms, glancing down to his boots. You laugh harshly and run a hand through your hair. This is ridiculous. Not only the fact that Billy would offer, but the fact that you are considering it. 

Luckily, the last warning bell rings before you can truly contemplate it. 

“I have to go.” you blurt out, turning away to rush into class. The failed test sits heavily in your pocket for the rest of the day. 

There has to be a better way to raise your grade. You have friends. Friends that aren’t Billy, that can help you. When the final bell rings you make your way to the library, where you alway meet with Nancy. Sitting down at your usual study table, you get out your homework, leaving the test hidden in your pocket for now. 

A few minutes later Nancy arrives, Jonathan in tow. She gives him a quick kiss before he leaves. You’re thankful that they aren’t very physical in front of you. You still aren’t entirely sure how you feel about their relationship, and how it started. Though you know that your friendship with Steve complicates things. 

“Hey.” Nancy greets you with a smile, setting her things down across from you. 

“Hey.” you reply, returning the smile. 

“So, I got a couple more applications for you this weekend.” She says pulling a thick stack of papers out of her bag. “I think it’s a good idea to cast a wide net in case your final transcripts change.” she explains. The casual mentions of your final grades makes your stomach sink into your back pocket. You take the applications from her, doing your best to continue smiling. 

“Good idea Nance.” You say, swallowing past the shame you feel. You stare at the stack of applications in your hands trying to think of a way to broach the topic of your history grade while Nancy pulls out her own work. 

“Hey Nancy, can I ask you something?” You begin, clearing your throat. Nancy glances up at you before returning to her work.

“Yea, sure.” She says.

“Do you think you could help me study for U.S. History? I dont think I’m doing super well.” You admit, your face heating up. Nancy stops what she’s working on and fully looks up at you.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her brows knitting together in confusion. You have to look away, her gaze suddenly feeling judgmental.

“I mean, I’m not doing well in the class and was wondering if you would help me study.” You say again as best you can. There is a pause.

“You’re not doing well… in history?” She asks disbelievingly. You want to scream. Was it really so difficult to understand?

“Yes Nancy. History.” You grit out, hating the shame burning in the back of your throat. Seeming to pick up on your growing irritation, Nancy stops her line of questioning.

“Yea, I can help you study.” she agrees, accepting the fact that you are having trouble in a class normally considered easy. “What are you working on currently?” She asks, closing her own textbook and leaning forward to peer at what is in front of you. You let out a sigh of relief.

“The great depression.” You tell her, angling your textbook for her to see better. Her eyes scan the page quickly, nodding her head slightly as she takes in some of the information. 

“Alright, this will be easy.” She says with a confident smile. “Let’s start with a couple of drills.” She says reaching into her bag to retrieve a stack of flash cards. You smile as well, thankful you have a friend like Nancy. She’s so smart and always has good grades. She and Barb used to help you study all the time. You don’t need Billy. You have Nancy.

An hour later you are seriously regretting your decision. 

“In 1933, this gave the president power over the banking system and set up a system by which banks would be reorganized or reopened.” Nancy asks, reading directly from the flash card. You rack your brain, trying to think of which term she could be referring to. There are so many acts and dates rattling around in your brain it hurts. 

“Come on, you know this.” Nancy insists, sounding slightly frustrated herself. Closing your eyes you press your fingertips into your temple, as if that will somehow help the answer come forward. 

“The Federal Emergency Relief Act?” You say, with little confidence. Peeking your eyes open you groan at Nancy’s disappointed face. 

“No.” She says dejectedly. “It's the Emergency Banking Relief Act.” She informs you, setting down the large stack of cards. 

“Fuck.” You mumble, leaning forward to rest your head, face down, on the table. Hearing Nancy’s heavy sigh makes you want to crawl completely under the table instead. 

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits. “We’ve been over it so many times already.” She goes on. It feels like a stab in your pride.

“I know.” You mumble into the table. You feel so embarrassed. You have been over it multiple times and it still refuses to stick in your mind. You want to cry with how frustrated you feel. You don’t remember studying with her being this hard. For some reason, Barb always had a way of smoothing things out for you. To make them more clear and easy for you to remember. 

“Maybe… Maybe you should hire an actual tutor?” Nancy suggests. Lifting your head from the table, you narrow your eyes at her. 

“How much do you think that would cost?” You ask. Nancy shrugs. 

“I’m not really sure.” She admits. That does not fill you with confidence. You are already working hard to save money from babysitting and there is no way you are going to ask your mom to pay for a tutor. 

“I’m screwed.” You groan, lowering your face down again. 

“I’m sorry.” Nancy apologizes, sliding the flashcards across the table to you. She actually sounds genuine.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault my brain is broken.” you tell her. 

“It’s not broken.” Nancy tries to comfort you, reaching across the table to gently pat the back of your head. It makes you feel a little better, enough to lift your head off the table. 

“Thank you for trying Nancy.” You say, giving her a weak smile. She returns your smile, looking equally as defeated as you feel. 

Glancing at her watch she sighs. 

“I’ve got to get going. Jonathan’s picking me up in a few minutes.” She explains, beginning to pack up her things. 

“No problem.” You say, packing up your own things. Being sure to tuck the large stack of flashcards into the side of your bag. 

“Do you want a ride home?” she asks.

“No, it’s okay. Steve is driving me today after he gets out of practice.” you say without thinking. 

“Oh.” Nancy’s voice is small but you catch it. Your eyes widen slightly at your mistake. You always try to avoid talking about Steve with Nancy. You feel conflicted, being stuck between your two friends. There is a pause while you finish packing. “H-how is Steve?” Nancy asks, fiddling with the zipper of her bag. You curse yourself internally.

“He’s good.” You answer simply. You never want to go into too much detail when Steve is involved in the conversation. It feels too much like choosing sides, like you are betraying Steve somehow. 

“That’s good.” Nancy responds lamely. 

“How’s Jonathan?” You ask, hoping to change the subject.

“He’s doing okay, still worried about Will and everything.” She answers. She still fiddles with the zipper on her bag, her mind clearly thinking of something else. 

“Maybe you should ask Steve for help.” She suggests. You lift a brow.

“Steve?” you ask, slightly confused.

“Yea.” she confirms. “He actually likes History.” She tells you, a small smile pulling at her lips. 

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” you admit. And honestly, Steve was not the first person to come to mind when you were looking for someone to help with studying. But, it couldn't hurt. “I’ll definitely ask him. Thanks Nance.” You say, slinging your bag over your shoulder. 

“No problem.” She says, smiling gently. You’re not sure but you think you see something sad behind her eyes. That’s the way she always looks when she mentions Steve. You wonder sometimes if she feels somewhat guilty about how things ended between them. 

The two of you walk outside where Jonathan is already waiting. You hug Nancy, waving goodbye as she climbs into the passenger seat. You watch them pull out of the parking lot before glancing down at your watch. You sigh, seeing that you have another 30 minutes before Steve gets out of Basketball practice. Looking around the parking lot you see Steve’s car among the few remaining vehicles. A few spots over is Billy’s car. You know he’s on the team too, much to Steve's chagrin. 

It was something your friend complained about often. From what you could gather, with your limited knowledge of the game, no matter how much it irritated Steve, there was no denying that Billy was a talented player. They apparently butted heads often. You didn’t play many sports but you can’t imagine it’s easy to work as a team when two of the main players hate each other. 

Making your way across the lot, you grip your jacket tighter, the cold air sending chilsl down your spine. You try to open the door to Steve’s car, the cold metal biting into your fingertips, the door remaining latched. Locked. You curse, shoving your hands into your pockets, trying to keep them warm. You could wait in the library until they are finished, or in the hallway. Deciding that is your best option, you turn to head back to the school. 

The sound of a car horn makes you jump. Whipping around you see a flash of red hair in Billy’s car. Focusing, you see Max, watching you from inside Billy’s car, smiling brightly at you. You place a hand over your racing heart, taking a deep breath. Max waves you over, rolling down the window as you approach. 

“Hey Max.” You greet her with a smile. “What are you doing here?” You ask. Max rolls her eyes.

“Waiting for Billy to get out of practice.” She tells you. “I normally hang out with Lucas and Dustin in the middle school, but they are working on some dorky project.” She explains. You nod in understanding. The boys can get very invested in their projects, to the point of exclusion, you’re not surprised Max wants to distance herself for a bit.  

“I’m waiting around too, if it makes you feel any better.” You tell her with a sympathetic smile. Max glances at Steve's car behind you. 

“Want to wait with me?” She asks. You hesitate momentarily.

“Oh, I don’t know Max.” You say, not sure if waiting in Billy’s car is the best idea. 

“Please! Billy lets me listen to his cassettes.” Max offers excitedly, holding up one to the tapes. You smile at her enthusiasm, you guess that the boys aren’t very into the things she likes, the least you can do is hang out with her for a bit. 

“Okay, but only for a few minutes.” You tell her. 

“Yes!” She cheers, throwing open the door for you to climb in. You glance around and against your better judgment, lower yourself into the driver's seat. Max scrambles over the console to the passenger side, still smiling. You roll up the window and close the door, it’s surprisingly warm inside the car. Settling into the seat a strange feeling passes over you. The last time you had sat in this seat was after you had nearly died, again. 

Now, Max sits, bouncing her legs excitedly, as she looks through Billy’s tape deck. 

“Oh! You’re going to love this one!” Max exclaims, pulling out a tape. She quickly slots it into the stereo, hitting play. Loud music floods the car, Max smiling brightly, singing along to the lyrics. You have to laugh as she plays an air guitar during the solo. You aren’t sure who sings the song but you recognize it as one of the songs you had listened to the day you and Billy had painted the porch. 

“Who sings this?” You ask over the music. Max looks at you, her eyes wide.

“This is Van Halen!” she yells, like it should be obvious to you. You nod, unable to stop from smiling at her shock. “What about Metallica, or Bon Jovi?” She asks, naming bands from the tape deck. You shake your head. “What the heck! Have you been living under a rock?” She asks, laughing in disbelief. 

You might as well have. For the past year you haven't really been interested in music, or anything really. 

“Oh man, you have a lot to learn.” She comments, ejecting the current tape and slotting a new one in its place. 

For the next 30 min Max alternates between cassettes, telling you the artist and her favorite songs. The music isn’t half bad, when you get past how loud it is. There are even a couple that resonate with you, the lyrics standing out in your mind. 

“And you HAVE to listen to Prince and Madonna! Billy dosn’t keep those tapes in the car, but I know where he keeps them in his room.” Max gushes. 

“I’ll have to listen to them some time.” you say with a smile. This was nice. You liked the way the music flowed through the car, Max excitedly telling you about each new song. You lean back against the door, nodding your head along to the AC/DC song currently playing. 

Without warning, the door is pulled open, nearly sending you tumbling to the ground. 

“Whoa!” You exclaim, frantically grabbing the steering wheel to remain upright. 

“Who the hell is-” Billy’s angry voice yells, only to stop after seeing your panicked face staring up at him. He looks shocked for a split second before it morphs into his familiar smirk.

“Don’t be a dick Billy, we were just listening to music.” Max explains, leaning forward to glare at Billy from behind you. Billy’s eyes dart between the two of you before finally settling on you. 

You scramble out of the car, planning on slipping past Billy, but as you stand Billy places his hand on the frame of the car, effectively blocking your escape. Trapped between the car and Billy, you look up to him.

“I’m sorry, Max asked if I wanted to wait with her.” You explain, not sure why you feel the need to make excuses for why you had been in his car. Billy’s eyes remain on your face, taking in your flustered expression. 

“Hear anything you like?” He asks, raising a brow, leaning in slightly. His hair is damp, flattening his curls slightly, his jaw working on a piece of gum. You can smell the peppermint with how close he is standing to you. 

“I-uh-” You stutter, unable to focus with how his body is crowding you against the car. Billy’s smirk only grows wider. He opens his mouth to respond but a voice cuts him off. 

“Hey!” Steve yells, jogging across the lot towards you. Billy takes a step back, far enough for you to slip around him. You hurry towards Steve, meeting him halfway. 

“You okay?” He asks, looking you over, his eyes filled with concern. You nod, putting on your best smile. 

“Yea, I’m good. I was just hanging out with Max while we waited.” You explain, turning to give Max a wave which she returns. You hope Steve can’t see how flustered you are. He turns his gaze back to Billy in a scathing glare. Unbothered, Billy climbs into the seat you had abandoned and slams the door.

Steve grabs your arm, pulling you back against him as Billy whips out of the spot. You feel his grip tighten as Billy gives you a wink, before speeding out of the parking lot.

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 22, Part 23 (Coming Soon)...

AN: I hope you guys like this!! Let me know what you guys think! Leave a like or a comment!

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[thecluelessdoctor]

whike I mentally prepare myself to make a whole damn comic, it's time I talk about the FNAf movie because fuck you I am going to write what I want

cw: spoilers for the FNAF movie!!

At base value, I loved it. I felt the pacing was a little slow, but I love it. From the little refs to the games, to the in general plot, it was just very enjoyable, even if most of the plot is just from the fact Vanessa didn't tell Mike wtf was going on.

NOW! let's talk technical!

For a pg-13, it was pretty good! I feel it matches the games really well! It's not too scary, but it can give you a startle, especially to any newbie! My mom was startled by the balloon boy lmao. Also it had blood so it's a plus.

The acting, dialogue, and overall set is really good. Scrumptious if I do say so myself.

I loved how the animatronics looked. Freddy and chica being my overall favorites. Idk they made my boy Bonnie blue so I had to take a few points. The cupcake running around was weirdly funny to me lol.

Now lemme touch on the plot!

I liked the plot! Like I said before, it was a LITTLE slow, but nothing too bad. I found it really interesting with what they did with Micheal and the whole dream thing.

And the idea that the children communicate in pictures rather than words hit me pretty hard, because that how I myself communicate. Although I can be.. pretty good with my words, drawing, and art as a whole is relatable to me, making Abby a really relatable character to me.

I really don't understand the hate for the movies bc it's not lore accurate. So what??? A lot of movies based on games don't! I mean- look at the Sonic the hedgehog movie!! Or the Mario movie! So your point is invalid. And also- I'm pretty sure this is a lot more entertaining than watching Micheal do five nights at Freddy's smhhh.

Though I'm sitting here in complete wonder bc like- WHO WAS THE 5TH KID?! WE SEE HER IN THE PICTURES!!! BUT- IS IT CASSIE?? OR CHARLIE MAYBE?! IDK

Also what happened to Derek I need to know.

Did he get turned into a animatronic what the fuck happened to him

Anyway

Let's talk about the cons of the movie.

I keep bringing this up, but the movie was slow. Not unbearably slow, but still slow.

Also, the whole aunt subplot- idk I felt it wasn't really needed except for the mat pat scene (he fucking embraced that scene it was great the theater I was in started cheering and I had to explain to my mom why everyone was so happy)

Also I felt the one major jumpscare we get, of foxy, was waisted. It looked like he was rolling into the security guard on roller blades. I would have liked it if maybe foxy like jumped at the guard or something. Idk just a me thing

I also feel the 'i always come back' line was rushed, same with shaggy's- sorry I mean WILLIAM'S death. It didn't really feel satisfying ig?

also, I felt that Vanessa was more of a plot device than a character. Because most of the plot literally is riding on the fact she doesn't tell Mike the truth.

But anyway

What would I rate this movie, and should you watch it?

I give it a 8/10. It's fun, and nostalgic for old FNaF fans, and a fun intro to new ones. Go check it out

[celestiall0tus]

What If It's Us - Lukim - Syren Song

Table of Contents

            Kim ran to the movie theater to meet with everyone else. His eyes sparkled with hope that Chloe would be there, even though he knew she wouldn’t. It wasn’t her type of movie, but still he hoped to see her there. He grinned at the idea when cold water hit his feet.

            Kim stopped and looked down to see he was in ankle deep water that rose quickly. He grimaced as it overtook him and rose up to the rooftops. He surfaced and looked around to see everything had been flooded to the top of the buildings. Everyone swam over to a nearby rooftop and huddled together as they stared at the flood.

            Kim swam over to one where he threw his duffel bag, hoodie, and shoes onto before he enjoyed a swim. He dove under and marveled at Paris underwater. It carried a peaceful serenity he often found underwater. A slight smile tugged on his lips at the peace until a shadow passed over him. He looked up to see a boat passing through. He surfaced to stare at it when he saw a guy aboard with shaggy black hair with blue dyed tips and dressed in a blue hoodie and white Jagged Stone shirt.

            “Mom! We passed one!” the boy yelled.

            Kim’s eyes widened as he watched the boat stop and the guy threw out a life preserver. Kim clawed at the air as his eyes still on the guy. He snagged it as he was pulled towards the boat and pulled onto it. The guy took the life preserver and smiled at Kim.

            “Hey, you’re alright now. We’ll help get you to a rooftop,” the guy said.

            Kim blinked before his eyes widened. “Oh? Oh! Uh, thanks? Say, what’s your name?”

            “Oh, uh, Luka Couffaine.”

            Kim flashed a smile. “Luka, eh? I’m Kim Chiến Lê Ature.”

            “Kim? Do you go to College Francoise Dupont?”

            “Why, yes, I do. How’d you know?”

            “My sister has mentioned you before.”

            “Sister?”

            “Yeah, Ju-… oh, hello Jule.”

            Kim raised a brow as he looked behind. He jumped as Juleka stared up at him with malic in her eyes.

            “O-oh, hey, Juleka,” Kim said.

            Juleka glared at Kim, then moved to stand beside Luka. Anarka called for Luka and Juleka and they rushed off to help. Kim sighed as he watched Luka leave and Juleka shoot him a final warning glare. Kim rolled his eyes as he leaned on the boat rim.

            Kim didn’t understand the dirty looks he got from Juleka. He was just being nice and talking to her hot brother. Was there anything really wrong with that? He was sure that Luka loved the attention with how attractive he was. A thought crossed his mind as he wondered if Luka was single. He was startled by the thought as he stared into the water.

            Kim hadn’t thought that way about another guy before. Girls, sure. There was Chloe, the hottest girl alive. But there weren’t any guys hotter than him, until he saw Luka. Even Chloe was put to shame before Luka. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow as he stared into the water. Should he be thinking this? Did he really like guys, or rather Luka? Did Luka like guys? Did he have a chance with Luka? He tried with Chloe, but she always turned him down and Luka was hotter than Chloe. Did he have any chance with a hottie like Luka?

            The boat jerked violently. Kim gasped as he gripped the side. He looked around as the boat was being tipped over. He vaulted over the edge and saw a purple fish girl. He balled his fists and swam towards her as she turned and smiled.

            “Kim! There you are. I’ve been looking for you!”

            Kim furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, but inhaled water. The fish girl approached him and put a bubble around his head. He gasped and took in a breath.

            “I… I can breathe. I can talk!” Kim exclaimed.

            “Kim, will you come with me? I have something I want to show you.”

            Kim glanced back at the boat, then at the fish girl. “Only if you don’t hurt the people on that boat. They’re just trying to help the people caught in the flood.”

            “Of course! I promise I’ll leave them alone.”

            Kim nodded and allowed the fish girl to take him away. She whisked him away to the pool and sat him on the lifeguard tower made into a throne. He watched her for a time before Ladybug and Chat Noir showed up. He helped the heroes defeat Syren, who he learned after the defeat that she was Ondine. He frowned and puzzled over what caused her to be akumatized. Everything seemed fine with her when he left her, so what happened?

            Kim returned to the pool the next day. He arrived early to find out what hurt Ondine. He looked around the lobby, near the changing rooms, then near the pool. He paused when he found a scrap of paper from their game. He took it and saw that Ondine had confessed her feelings to him, but he hadn’t seen them.

            Kim frowned. He liked Ondine, but not like that. She was just his friend, one of his best friends, like Alix and Max. Ondine wasn’t Luka or Chloe, especially not Luka. He would have to let her down, but a part of him feared how she would take it. If it was enough to get her akumatized, would it happen again? Should he even mention it? What was the right option here?

            “Kim?” Ondine asked.

            Kim looked up to see Ondine staring at him and the slip of paper in his hand. He looked down at it and tried to hide it behind his back. Ondine frowned and looked away.

            “I’m sorry for yesterday. I just… I’m sorry.”

            “I… it’s ok. I did hurt you. I didn’t look at this when I should have.”

            “So?”

            “So what?”

            “Do you… do you feel the same way?”

            Kim paused, then sighed. “I’m sorry, I don’t. You’re my friend, just like Alix and Max. I just don’t see you like that. I’m sorry.”

            Tears fell from Ondine’s eyes as she forced a smile. “It’s ok. I… I had to take a chance. I just… I’m sorry I made a fool of myself doing this.”

            “This doesn’t change anything between us, does it? We’re still friends, right?”

            “I… I guess that’s all we’ll ever be.”

            Kim’s heart dropped as Ondine ran off in tears. He sighed, looked at the paper, crumbled it up, and tossed it aside. He changed back into his street clothes and left the pool. He went for a walk and ended up at the Seine. He paused when he saw the same boat from yesterday that Luka was on. He hurried towards it as faint guitar music grew louder. He passed near the boat as he saw Luka on the deck as he played the guitar.

            Kim took a breath as he steeled his nerves. His mind whirled with questions about Luka that he wanted to stop. He needed to know. He needed to take a chance. He took another breath as he approached the boat. He approached from the side that Luka saw him from.

            “Hey, Kim, right?” Luka called.

            “Yup, that’s me. Uh, may I sit with you?” Kim asked.

            “Sure.”

            Kim smiled as he rushed aboard and sat next to Luka. “So, how’ve you been since yesterday? That akuma was something, wasn’t it?”

            “It was a little terrifying, but we knew Ladybug and Chat Noir would save us. Mom just wanted to do her part as well.”

            “That was a brave thing you three did. You were heroes just like Ladybug and Chat Noir.”

            Luka smiled softly. “Thank you, though it was just something small. Nothing like what they do.”

            “Maybe, but it was still amazing. Thank you.”

            Luka’s eyes widened before his face softened again. He smiled and played a relaxing, enchanting melody. Kim listened for a while, lost in the music.

            “You play beautifully,” Kim commented.

            “Thanks, but I can’t take all the credit. This is your melody. This is what I hear.”

            “Wait, it is?”

            “It is. I’ve met only one other person with a melody like this, and I love it.”

            Kim blushed, then coughed. “I… I wouldn’t suppose you’d be interested in doing something, uh, together… would you?”

            “What’d you have in mind?”

            “I don’t know. Uh, maybe a movie together?”

            “Just the two of us?”

            “I… it doesn’t have to be. It could be a group thing if you don’t want it to be a date. I mean… it does sound farfetched, right? A date? Who said that?”

            Luka blinked, then chuckled. “A date it is then.”

            “Wait, really?”

            “Yeah. Tomorrow night sound good?”

            “Y-yeah. Yeah! Tomorrow is perfect. Do I… do I leave now? Could I… could I stay a little longer? Or would it be better if I leave? Is it too awkward if I stay? I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

            Luka smiled and strummed his guitar. “Relax. You can stay if you’d like. I’d like the company if you did.”

            Kim smiled. “Then I couldn’t dare deprive anyone of company, especially of my own company. Stay I will.”

            Luka chuckled before he played his guitar. Kim sighed and relaxed in his seat as he enjoyed Luka’s music and company.

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[stumped-on-bennington]

Don't Wanna Forget How Your Voice Sounds

Summary: Pete asks you out to prom, but his rough exterior angers your mom, who is always comparing you to your twin.

Pairing: Pete Wentz X Reader

Word count: 2,303

You hated this time of year. The past 3 years had all been the same, dozens upon dozens of cringe worthy prom proposals, girls always walking around with massive flower bouquets, and your twin sister had already brought home 5.

Your twin sister, Stella, was always the popular one. Cheerleading captain, student body president, volleyball center; she did it all. Got good grades, was good at sports, and if that wasn't enough, she was also extremely pretty. She was also your complete opposite.

You, on the other hand, were quiet. You spent most of your time in the bandroom, either playing piano when no one else was there or drawing while everyone else practiced. You dyed your blonde hair black and kept the cut shaggy, something you did your freshman year to avoid getting mistaken for your sister.

Stella was the most popular girl in school, everyone either wanted to be her or date her. You only had a few friends, Pete and Andy, who were in the same class as you, and Patrick and Joe, who were younger than you, but had joined the friend group from the sheer fact of them also being social outcasts.

You entered the bandroom, being greeted with a wave from the guys. Andy was reading a comic, Joe was playing with a nylon guitar, Patrick was messing with an upright bass, and Pete was listening to music from his headphones. You walked over to the group and plopped down on one of the chairs.

Pete took out one of his ear buds, “Whats up with you?” he asks, and eyebrow raised.

You let out an aggravated sigh, “Guess who got asked out to prom, again?” You say.

“Hmm, was iiiit… you?” Patrick said, a smile on his face.

“Ha ha, very funny Stumph. No, it was Stella. Did you guys know she's already gotten asked 5 times? She hasn't even said yes to anyone yet, she just collects all the flowers and chocolates. She doesn't even eat the chocolate.” You say, very clearly annoyed.

“I hear she's holding out for jewelry.” Andy says, not even looking up from his comic.

You roll your eyes, knowing that was probably true.

Pete leans over towards you. “So has anyone asked you to prom?”

You let out a laugh, “Ha! Are you kidding me? Everyone in school calls me “Stella's weird sister”. You 4 are the only ones that treat me like a person.”

“Well, what if someone asked you? Would you go with them.” Pete asked.

You stopped to think for a moment, “Well, I can't think of anyone that would ask me, and if someone did I'm sure it would just be a prank, honestly. Like I said, you 4 are the only ones that treat me like a person, so if anyone Other than you guys asked me, then I'd say no”

Joe suddenly sat up, “Woah, wait, do you have a crush on us or somethin?”

You try your best to keep from blushing. You did, in fact, have a crush on one of them. You had known Pete the longest and had developed a crush on him. The way he was always the class clown and always trying to put a smile on your face. He was definitely the guy for you, but you didn't want to ruincyoir friendship with him.

“NO! I-I mean, like I want to go to prom with you guys as friends, it is Pete, Andy, and mine’s last year, so I'd like to go to our senior prom, but only if you guys want to go too.” you say, trying to cover the fact that you really want to go with Pete.

The 4 boys look at each other, before shrugging in unison.

“Sure, why not?” Patrick says.

“Cool, I can pick everyone up in my mom’s car.” Pete says.

You mentally let out a sigh, thankful that the guys don't know about your crush, but also sad that Pete won't be asking you to prom.

After school you go home, taking the bus like usual. You were just in the kitchen grabbing a snack when your sister got home, being dropped off by one of her friends. In her arms she carried 2 more bouquets. You roll your eyes and head back into your room. You could hear your mom being all excited over your sister, like usual. Your mom always wanted you to be more like Stella, and it annoyed the trap out of you. Luckily your dad was always there for you, always proud of you no matter what and never comparing you to her.

Just as it started to get dark, you hear pebbles tapping on your window. You walked over and open it, expecting it to be another one of the boys who wanted Stella. It wouldn't be the first time they accidentally tapped on your window when they wanted to see her.

Just as you were about to tell off whoever it was, you saw Pete. And infront of him was the word “Prom?” burning into tour parents lawn.

“What do you say Y/N?” Pete says looking up at you. You were in shock, absolutely stunned that he was asking you.

Before you could answer you hear the front door open and your mother screaming. before you know it, Pete is running off down the street. You rush down stairs and outside where your dad is calmly hosing down the flames.

“I can't believe this! That delinquent could have killed us!” Your mom was yelling.

“That was one of Y/N's friends! I've seen him around school, always causing trouble!” Stell says.

“Is this true, Y/N? Do you know that boy?” Your mom asks you, clearly angry.

“Yeah, but-” before you can finish your sentence, your mom interrupts you.

“You are grounded! I don't care if you didn't start this fire, but you are clearly hanging out with the wrong kids!” Your mom yells.

“But, mom!” You try to protest.

“I don't want you going anywhere for the next week. I already know if you keep seeing that boy you'll end up covered in tattoos, piercings, and in jail before you even turn 19!” As your mom says the final words, tear are already in your eyes, rage boiling in your face. You turn and run back inside, running to your room and slamming the door.

As you cry in your room, your phone goes off with a text from Pete.

Pete: I probably could have done that a little differently.

Y/N: yup, now I'm grounded because of it

Pete: Yea, I could hear your mom from across the neighborhood. I'm sorry Y/N, I just wanted to do something special, I don't know what I was thinking really

Y/N: I know, dude. I still appreciate it. If you makes you feel any better I was going to say yes, even if you were just asking me as a friend.

Pete: Well, actually I was asking you out for real, Y/N.

You heart skips a beat. Pete was actually asking you out for real, you couldn't believe it. Just then there was a knock on your door.

“It's me, sweetheart.” Your dad says from the hall.

“You can come in.” You say. Your dad enters your room, sitting next to you on your bed.

“I'm sorry the way your mom reacted, I thought the flames were a little much, but it was sweet of that boy.” He says.

“Yeah, too bad I won't be able to go with him.” You say, looking down at the floor.

“Do you really like that boy?” Your dad asks.

“I do.” You tell him. Your dad reaches down into his pocket and pulls out a 100 dollar bill and hands it to you.

“I know prom is tomorrow, so use this money as go buy yourself a dress in the morning. I'll keep your mom busy so she doesn't realize that you're getting ready.” Your dad says, a slight slime on his face.

You hug your dad, “thank you.” You whisper to him.

“No problem, sweetheart. You know that boy reminds me of myself when I was in high school, I pulled a few stunts back in my dad to try and win your mom's heart. So just enjoy the night and don't give your mother much mind.” Your dad stands up and leaves the room. You go back to your phone.

Y/N: Change of plans, we're going to prom tomorrow. and as more than friends.

You then quickly text Andy.

Y/N: hey, are you up for a trip to the mall tomorrow? I have to pick out a dress.

Andy: I thought I hear your mom grounded you? I could hear her yelling.

Y/N: dad came to the rescue.

Andy: cool, I do want to pick up the new issue of my comic book before prom, so I can take you. Meet at my place at 11AM

You smile, put your phone to charge and get ready for bed.

The next day you quickly get dressed and sneak out the back door while your mom and sister go out to get your sister's hair done. You run to Andy's house where he is leaning against his car, waiting for you. Joe and Patrick are there too. All 4 of you get in Andy's car and head to the mall.

“So, Pete really asked you?” Patrick says.

“Yeah, he did.” You say, a slight blush on your face.

“Thank God, I didn't know how much longer I could go with the weird tension between you too.” Joe says.

“What are you talk about?” You say, turning to Joe, who was sat behind you.

Andy pipes into the conversation, “We could all tell you had a thing for each other, Y/N. It's just a miracle he finally acted on it.”

Once at the mall you quick start looking for the dress you'll wear. You tried all the traditional places for dresses, disappointed when you only see these brightly colored dresses covered in glitter. You were about to give up when you finally spotted the perfect dress. It was black with beautiful tule detailing, all tied off with a red ribbon at the waist. You bought them dress and met back up with the boys, with their shopping already done. You all headed back home with your purchases.

When you gor home, you snuck back in through the back, making your way into your room undetected by your mom or sister. You locked your door and started getting ready, with Pete set to pick you up in just a few hours.

You did your hair and make up, put on your dress, and finished up the look with your red converse to match the ribbon on the dress. You watched out the window as Stella's date pulled up and took her away to prom. A few moments later your mom left on an errand your dad sent her on, and then Pete pulled up in his mom's car.

You quickly ran down the stairs, seeing Pete being let in by your dad. “Sorry about the lawn.” Pete says to your dad.

“Dont worry about it, so long as you treat my little girl right.” He says

Pete sees you as you turn the corner. He looks at you with him jaw dropped, before composing himself. “You look stunning.” He says as you stand next to him.

Your dad quickly takes your picture and you and Pete head out.

As you walk into the school gym you see the other guys and give them a wave. They all smile and wave back at you too. You and Pete dance and have so much fun, that us before you see Stella and her date terrorizing your friends. Before you know it, Pete is pulled away from you too. While looking for him you find that he's been pulled into the dance pit, where he's actually busting a move! You cheer him on as he dances.

Once the song ends you and pete finally get to dance together. The whole world melts away, leaving just the two of you.

“I've wanted to be like this with you for a while.” Pete whispers to you.

“Same here” you tell him. Before you know it your both leaning I'm towards each other. You slowly close your eyes and your lips meet, it feels like seeing the sunrise for the first time, running down to open presents on Christmas day, and when your pet comes to cuddle with you, all at the same time.

As you pull back from the kiss, the lights in the gym flicker on, signaling that it's tike to go home. As you and pete begin to leave you look around and notice that Stella and her date are nowhere to be seen. You shrug and wave goodbye to Patrick and Joe, while Andy is busy making out with some girl.

Bonus!

When you get home you see that your mom and Stella’s date’s car are in the way. You thank Pete for the night and give him a quick kiss.

“I’ll text you when I get home. I love you Y/N." Pete says.

“I love you, too.” you tell him, and then make your way inside, ready to get yelled at by your mom.

As you open the door you see that Stella and her date are sitting on the couch, visibly disheveled with clothes and hair sloppy, the date has lipstick smeared on his face and neck.

Your mom is lecturing the two about underage drinking and sex, so you quickly sneak past and into your room, a smile across your face as for once it's your sister who is getting yelled at.

[scoobysfriend]

This is my ideal scooby gang. Explanation and scooby doo character analysis under the cut

I think Scooby Doo is a character driven show actually. Every time there is a mystery, and everytime we aren't always interested in what the mystery is but how the characters investigate it. Most scooby doo episodes and movies aren't about the mysteries themselves but are about the character shenanigans the gang get up to while solving that mystery.

The best way to possibly ever write fred is make him laios but with an ascot and for traps instead of food. You don't even have to change the monster part! A heart of gold and a specialized skill set. Can fred make a phone call? no. Can fred turn all the wheels on the mystery machine into suction cups so it can go up a wall to chase a tentacled bird demon? yes. He must also be kind, all the scooby characters must be, but fred most especially. Plus trap making is such a niche hobby, and mystery incorporated explored this a little bit, but doing that even more is great. Funny enough I also really loved mystery incorporated's stance on fred's family life. Being raised by someone who doesn't understand who you are fundamentally and wants you to change, poetic cinema. I also want Red Herring to be Fred's childhood friend turned nemesis turned weird I know you better than I know myself thing, my password is your birthday and yet we don't talk there's this distance. Like when kids are young and they bring their friends over to their house, and that friend never really leaves cause they aren't getting parented at home? That's red herring bringing fred to his house, and make his mom a mechanic and suddenly so much stuff fits. It also explains his mechanic skill. Traps and cars are different things. Fred is a crazy inventor who emotionally bonded to the mystery machine and learned mechanics from someone who was the closest thing he ever got to a parent. Fred is a crazy smart inventor. He makes traps and contraptions and rube goldberg machines for the thrill of it. We call a man boring who probably has twelve bear traps in his bedroom and he's so confused on why people don't want to live this way so more for him he guesses, but that also means he always wants to share it with his friends!!!!!!! He's a huge gentle soul that loves his people and his mysteries and his traps. In that order.

i think daphne should get to have a character arc actually?? There's been enough iterations of all the scooby doo characters that if you just mix and match them you have character development. She should start as danger prone daphne always getting in trouble. Then she should decide she doesn't want to be the one getting saved all the time. She starts learning skills to get her out of danger first lockpicking cause whats new scooby doo was my scooby growing up, then learning martial skills to the point where instead of getting rescued she is the one running into danger to rescue others. Someone who protects and never shies away from trouble. I also think it would be cute to make it so she's really into fashion from the 1960s, so that you could modernize the world but keep the old designs cause the gang wants to go matchy matchy with daphne. She does love fashion and knows about it, but just saying "loves fashion" is very 2 dimensional. Saying Daphne loves vintage clothes and using those clothes in the modern era especially clothes from the 60s opens a lot of opportunities to explain why the whole gang is going to this super duper spooky estate sale, Daphne heard this woman had an extensive collection. It also lets the gang have cool outfits and character models. On top of that by having the gang match Daphne, shows that she loves them enough tom share this part of herself with them and that they love her enough to be a part of it with her. Daphne also is almost always the backbone of the gang. Fred, shaggy, and scooby would give a stranger the shirt off their backs, velma and fred don't always recognize what is socially expected so can take advantage of because they are trying to fit in an uncomfortable social situation, but Daphne? Daphne is a fiery redhead who loves her friends more than breathing, no you can't have fred fix that for you, no you can't say that to shaggy and no velma won't do your homework. We are also bringing scooby in with us, if you don't like it that sucks. This combination of traits is stuff she already had, in one iteration or another, and gives a solid character. Also making her the youngest daughter of like twelve in a wealthy family slaps.

Velma, oh velma, JelloApocalypse put it best "A bad Velma is the worst thing that happened to Scooby-doo". Velma often suffers from being the workhorse of the narrative. Donatello of the tmnt often suffer similarly. Velma I feel like, even in character, should reflect this. Velma is the smartest person in the room, and due to her knowing this, she often feels responsible for doing something with that knowledge. The gang takes a lot of that pressure off. Velma is not a master of every single science, but she is one of the most gifted researchers alive. Yet, she is also compassionate, she feels responsible, because when seeing something go wrong and be awful, she believes that she could change it. She, maybe the most, benefits from having the scooby gang all together, because they give her permission to have fun. Velma will see a bad guy and already be twelve steps down in her thought process on how this will affect the carnival's income, while shaggy yells that they need to "Run, Man!". Velma is one of those characters where you could imagine her being very successful in dusty stacks for the rest of her life, but she gets color added to it, and first hand knowledge, by going out with the gang. She's curious to a fault, and wants to know about everything, and often thinks she can just find out from books and the internet, and is often right! But is just as often wrong! Velma will be twelve review articles deep trying to find the best place to eat and shaggy will say I know a guy and they'll be eating out of an illegal taco boat moored in the middle of the harbor. Or velma will be trying to make what is objectively the best decision in a given situation when Dpahne will come in and ask "Why are you in this situation in the first place, let's leave" or velma will be curious about the reproductive cycle of the three toed sugar cane frog and fred will show up with a cooler, night vision goggles and two plane tickets. The gang give velma the freedom to make choices without worrying about which one is the "right" one. This also extends to mysteries, because velma wants to prove that ghosts and aliens and werewolves and everything exist, she wants to prove it so so so badly, but she's been told intellectually her whole life that it's a load of hogwash, but with the gang, they all go get to prove if it's hogwash or not together and have fun doing it! Even when it's all fake, it's a puzzle, it's so much fun! And this is what makes Marcie Fleach such a good foil. Marcie is also gifted, beyond gifted, in robotics, but she doesn't have anyone to get her out of her own head. So Marcie is stuck in her own dark thoughts trying to make it work while velma is trying a sandwich that scooby made that has circus peanuts in it. There can be no knowledge without experience and that is what velma really proves. Her research skills provide such a strong base for the gang, and her observational skills are second to none, she might not always know what to do with those observations but that's what she can talk to the gang for. This responsibility she feels to the world and the people living in it and even just the ideals of the truth, all form this core facet of her personality that she gets to explore and uphold in a fun way through the solving of mysteries. She has a book for everything and a try anything thrice while documenting the results for science kind of attitude. Plus this pull between what she has been told it right, what she thinks academically is right and what she feels is right, all fighting in her head for dominance makes for great character motivation. Like in where's my mummy she dresses up as the bad guy because she thinks it's the right thing to do, and she's shown by the narrative to be right! Also velma should get to, and be required to, get up to as many goofy shenanigans as the other members of the scooby gang. They all take turns being the straight man and on particullarly goofy days, it's scooby.

SHAGGY IS A GODDAMN ANTHROPOLOGY MAJOR. And a wizard, but we have known that one. Shaggy is a nice witty guy, who likes helping people, but even more than that he likes learning about people. Like, he's the kinda guy who ten minutes after meeting him you bring him home to your family and they adopt and feed him. He's charming and snarky and a good listener. He's often a coward, but he's brave for scooby. Scooby will be scared out of his mind and so will shaggy, but shaggy will crack a joke so scooby will laugh and scooby will dance so shaggy will laugh. They are best friends. Shaggy also loves old horror flicks, the cheesier the better and video games that people don't think are very good. Shaggy as a character is like a celebration of things everyone trashes put into a lovable package. Shaggy is a coward who runs away and eats too much and loves b grade horror flicks and trashiest video games ever produced. Shaggy is the one who wants to go to the puppet museum or accordion camp or the world's most giant ball of yarn. There's this love and wonder toward everything in the world that many of the iterations of scooby doo miss. Shaggy wants to go and solve the mystery as much as any of the gang, because he loves every part of it. If shaggy is not scared, he is smiling and laughing and engaging with the locals and going dumb skits and reading comic books. Shaggy will work as a stage hand or carnival ring master or manager of a famous doll customizer's youtube channel for a summer because he likes hanging out with folks and likes the food. And people notice this trait about him and respond in kind. There's this curiosity that all the gang needs to share, that always gets surgically removed from shaggy and I don't know why. It's just that shaggy's curiosity is more about fun happy things. Like even in ghoul school, there were monsters and he was scared, but he realized they were people and immediately tried to be friend to them. Maybe it's my own bias, but if shaggy went to college he'd be an anthropology major, because wanting to know everything about people and eat their food and hang out with folks eternally, that is applied cultural anthropology lmao.

(Also i could do a whole thing on how the members of the scooby gang each represent a different branch of applied anthropology. Scooby as primatology, Fred as biological anthropology/Forensics, Velma as archeology, Daphne as linguistics, Shaggy as cultural anthropology, another day, another day.)

Finally last and certainly not least. Scooby Dooby Doo. The dog, the myth, the legend. It's really interesting to talk about scooby and the way he evolved, originally scooby didn't have that many words. He was like a parrot, had a certain number of set phrases but had to pantomime the rest. I like scooby talking, I like knowing his thoughts, but that pantomime. I'm so irrationally obsessed with it. I really think we need to bring it back. So much of his slapstick comedy and personality is removed when you removed that. Scooby isn't making quips, scooby is dressing as a cancan dancer while shaggy's thar barman and making the evil chicken ghost blush so much it bends over backward to buy them a drink that he throws in it's face so they can run again. Scooby has so much emotional intelligence and cares so deeply for the gang, to reduce him to a shaggy clone is a crime. Scooby has that classic dog mentality, Shaggy is his boy. His best friend and his everything, if scooby could go everywhere with shaggy he would and wait he does! Scooby wants to go on adventures, and go with his people, and for scooby an adventure could be a trip to the dog park or bowling alley or solving a why ghost pirates are attacking their cruise ship. And of course scooby's scared! He's a scaredy cat! He'll jump and yipe and be afraid, but he'll stick by his people even if he is afraid. He provides such tension relief and emotional solace, he is an emotional support animal. Anytime the gang is stressed or worried or sad or anything there is scooby doo! Either feeling it right along side you or comforting you through it, like that one scene in little miss sunshine when the kid has a breakdown cause he's colorblind and won't be able to fly and then gets comforted by that little girl. Scooby is that little girl. I really cannot emphasize enough how loyal scooby is, and there is no better illustration of that than scrappy. Scrappy was just a puppy but he thought his uncle scooby was the bravest dog in the whole world, and that's the thing scrappy never saw any different!! Scrappy would picka fight with a monster or someone bigger than him and everytime, without fail, there scooby would be to pull him out of it. Scooby is a loyal beyond all other things, even beyond his fear, and has an emotional breadth that can only come from not only being the heart of the show but the heart of his little family too! And shaggy is his best friend!!!!!!!! They do everything together and he loves him so much!!!! And sure he's clumsy, but so is daphne, and sure he can get jealous, but so can velma, and sure he's a coward but so is shaggy! Scooby does this thing where whenever he is there, everything is a little better, the sun a little brighter, the avocado toast a little more scrumptious, and he's smiling and cheering and so then is everyone else. I also thought of a hilarious bit, where since scooby is a dog and they like eating all the time they keep running into stuff that is poison for dogs so shaggy can't share it with scooby and he begs with the biggest possible eyes, and rests his head on shaggy's lap and shaggy feels so bad that he gets three scooby snacks and the bacon from fred's plate.

Really though. These are all goofball young folks who like solving mysteries together and traveling together and bonding over random activities. They love each other, they are all best friends, and it would be relatively easy to give them all character arcs based upon things that previously happened to them.

Fred as this guy, getting recognized for his achievements and hobbies even if they aren't what is considered normal. All his friends hyping up his most complicated trap or cheering when he makes the mystery machine a boat or being willing to tell his automatic breakfast machine. That transition from hiding everything about yourself to showing a little bit and then a little more and the relief each time from being accepted fully!

Daphne as the spoiled youngest daughter of a wealthy family to damsel in distress to danger prone Daphne to being the emotional backbone of the time to as many skills as a bard to having enough skills to protect herself to throwing herself into danger with these skills she's acquired to help other people.

Velma as this cloistered researcher always trying to make the 'right' decision and having her open up about her desires and fears, and what she wants to research and investigate, where she starts investigating and having fun and experiencing all these things till she is this well of knowledge and uses that well of knowledge to have fun and help people

Shaggy who drifts from group of people to group of people, finally having a group to call his own. Getting to stay with people, and have them really learn him and really express himself. Building up confidence, and if you believe the wizard shaggy theory like I do, using magic as a metaphor for that and having him come into his own as a powerful wizard. Or even just having him come into his own as a masterful people person or as an excellent chef or as a world class detective or all of the above. Letting shaggy acknowledge his skills and his growth in them and letting him be proud.

Scooby would also reflect shaggy. Scooby with his trust issues, opening up to someone who wasn't just shaggy. Being supported by others and supporting them in turn. Being understood and listened to. Having someone tell the hotel front desk, no scooby is coming inside, no you do not get an opinion and if you do we can take our business elsewhere. This relationship with other people making him braver, and happier, and bouncier, and sillier. Having fun with everyone you love always!

You fools! The whole time Scooby doo was about love and hanging out with your friends!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And how no matter how evil or weird or scary everything is, you can figure it out together!!!!!!!!!

[myhauntedsalem]

23 Parents Describe Their Kids’ Creepy Imaginary Friends

1. He doesn’t have a face

“My son from the age of three always tells me about the ‘creeper man’ who lives in my mom and dad’s bedroom. He brings it up after he visits them. I made the mistake once of asking what he looks like. My son said ‘Oh, he doesn’t have a face.’”

2. “You’ll get used to killing”

“A parent of one of my students told us in a meeting that she was concerned because her son (7 years old) talked about an invisible ghost who would talk to him and play with him in his room. He said the ghost was called The Captain and was an old white guy with a beard. The kid would tell his mom that The Captain told him when he grows up his job will be to kill people, and The Captain would tell him who needed to be killed. The kid would cry and say he doesn’t want to kill when he grows up, but The Captain tells him he doesn’t have a choice and he’ll get used to killing after a while.”

3. Little girl ghost

“When my daughter was three she had an imaginary friend named Kelly who lived in her closet. Kelly sat in a little rocking chair while she slept, played with her, etc. Typical imaginary friend shit. Anyway, fast forward two years later, the wife and I are watching the new Amityville Horror (the one with Ryan Renolds) and our daughter walks out right when the dead girl goes all black eyed. Far from being disturbed she said ‘That looks like Kelly.’ ‘Kelly who?’ we say. ‘You know the dead girl that lived in my closet.’”

4. Bad rabbit

“My cousin, when she was 5, and I was 17, had a stuffed rabbit that she talked to and carried everywhere. One day she was asleep on the couch while I was watching her, and she woke up and started yelling at her rabbit for no reason. One minute she was knocked out, the next, she’s awake, glaring at her rabbit, yelling, ‘No! You can’t do that! That’s bad! Don’t do it!’ I asked her what was wrong, tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn’t listen. I finally just took the rabbit up to her room, and when I came back down she was asleep on the couch again. Fuck whatever that rabbit was planning on doing.”

5. Roger won’t be around anymore…

“My little brother’s imaginary friend, Roger, lived under our coffee table. Roger had a wife and nine kids. Roger and his family lived peacefully alongside us for three years. One day, my little brother announced that Roger wouldn’t be around anymore, since he shot and killed him and his whole family. I don’t know if he remembers any of this, but his genuine lack of remorse was very disturbing.”

6. A boy in the tree

“My folks’ farm surrounds a cemetery, and my dad and my niece were walking down there. My niece (4) looks up and says, ‘What’s that boy doing up in that tree?’ There was no boy, but she insisted there was and could describe him.”

7. The bunny man

“When I was 16, I babysat twins who were in the third grade at the time. They always spoke of a man in an Easter Bunny costume, and they were terrified of him. One day I was babysitting, and one twin was in the shower. His brother and I were sitting downstairs watching television when all of the sudden, he said, ‘You need to go check on Matt.’ Seconds later, Matt yelled, ‘He’s in here!!! He’s in here!!!’ I ran upstairs, and I had to check every room before he would calm down. I’m not sure which part of the experience freaked me out the most.”

8. Poor Shaggy

When my mom was younger she had an imaginary friend named Shaggy. When she was finished with Shaggy, she ‘chopped him up and put him in the fridge.’”

9. “Smash Daddy’s head”

“When my brother was just learning how to talk he grabbed one of those small toy hammers and crawled onto the sofa where my dad was sleeping. He then leant in close and whispered one of his first sentences… ‘Smash daddy’s head’ right into his ear.”

10. Dark angels

When my brother was little he acted like he had angels talking to him every second. One day my mom overheard him say, ‘I can’t kill him! He’s my only dad!’”

11. “That’s the man”

“My daughter used to tell me about a man who came into her room every night and put the sign of the cross on her forehead. I thought it was just a dream. Then my mother-in-law sent over some family photos. My daughter looked right at the picture of my husband’s father (who has been dead for 16 years) and said ‘That’s the man who comes into my room at night!’ My husband later told me his father would always do the sign of the cross on his forehead when he was young.”

12. Message from beyond

“My wife and I overheard my two-year-old daughter on the baby monitor wake up on Saturday morning and say, ‘What? OK I’ll tell her.’ She then got up, came into our bedroom, and told my wife, ‘Mary says you’re doing a good job.’ Mary was her grandmother that she was extremely close to that passed away.”

13. I called him Spooky Guy

“As a kid, I said that my imaginary friend was a ghost. I called him Spooky Guy and said he died in the garage of the house on the hill behind ours. I even came up with his death. He was a 16 year old who got in a car crash and walked to that house to ask to use their phone (died in the 70’s). The person lived there grabbed him and sexually abused him there and killed him. He was my imaginary friend as far back as I can remember. This scared my mom so much that she tried to look up records to see if that happened and got me a therapist.”

14. Icy wants me to tell you it will be tonight

“In high school one of my best friends had a little sister who was five or six years old. One day we stopped by his place, completely high, because he needed to get his Magic cards. While waiting for him to come downstairs his sister came up to me and said, ‘Icy told me to ask you if you know when you’re going to die.’”

I laughed nervously: morbid question, right? But I knew all about Icy, her imaginary friend. I even helped her draw a picture of him once. So I played along and said, ‘No, of course not! No one knows that. Hopefully when I’m very old.’

The girl shook her head sadly and said, ‘No, Icy wants me to tell you it’ll be tonight.’ And with that, she just walked away.”

15. It is the punishment

“I was seventeen and babysitting a friend of the family’s six-year-old boy. He’d been in bed a couple of hours and I just peeked in to check on him. He wasn’t in the bed and when I opened the door, I saw he was standing in the corner, facing the wall. creepiest fucking thing ever. I asked him what he was doing and all he did was turn around, smile, and put his finger to his lips as if to say ‘shhh.’ I asked him again what he was doing and all he says is, ‘Leave us. It is the punishment.’”

16. Keep kicking

“My grandfather had a camp on Lake Dering in New Hampshire when I was a kid. One day when I was 6 or so, I fell off of the dock and into the water. I couldn’t swim. While under, I distinctly remember seeing a little girl down there who told me to look up towards the sun and just keep kicking and I’d be fine. I swam to the surface just in time for my grandfather to swoop me up and pull me back on the dock.”

17. Nope

“When my boy was 4, his imaginary friend would sit in the corner of the room when you switched off the lights and light the room with red glowing eyes.”

18. They were both dead

“Kid I used to babysit had imaginary friends. They were dead. One had no head. One was an old lady. They were both bloody. The one with no head had insides sticking out of his neck.

I didn’t ask him questions about them because fuck that.”

19. Tracy

“When my niece was about 4 she had an imaginary friend, which I don’t remember the name of. She would blame things she did on this imaginary friend but also talked about how this friend would watch Scooby Doo with her. One day I thought, ‘Why don’t I find out more about this friend?’ So I asked her to tell me about her friend. And she said, ‘She’s a she and she’s dead.’ And I said, ‘Does she have a job?’ And she said, ‘She does what my daddy does!’ Which is that her imaginary friend was a cop. So then I said, ‘Where is your imaginary friend a police woman at?’ And she said, ‘Right next I to where my daddy is a policeman.’ But then she said, ‘I met her when I was in my mummy’s belly. She touched it when I was inside.’

A few months before my niece was born my cousin Tracy had died. She was hit by a train. She loved watching Scooby Doo and had a ton of memorabilia. She was also a cop. She was a cop in the town that is right next to the one my brother-in-law is a cop in, my niece’s ‘daddy.’ My niece’s imaginary friend was my dead cousin. There is no other way she could have known all that at the age of 4.”

20. “That’s why I don’t like water now”

“When my kid was 4, we were watching a documentary on the Titanic. The scene was a picture of the schematics of the boiler room and the camera panned from left to right over the plans. He pointed at the TV and said, ‘That’s wrong. The boilers were on the other side. And I was right here.’ And he pointed to a small space in the boiler room. ‘That’s where I was. And that’s why I don’t like water now.’”

21. Emily

“When my sister was probably about 6 or 7, she had an imaginary friend named Emily. She told us Emily lived in her closet, wore an old black dress, and had long dark hair and she was the same age as my sister. My sister played with Emily constantly. My parents started noticing my sister acting weird. Just sitting in the middle of her room whispering to Emily quite a bit and acting a lot more distant towards them. I remember a very specific day, my brother was walking by her room and my sister was sitting in the middle of her room….but she turned around and hissed at him. He was scared shitless. He told me it didn’t even look like my sister. My parents ran up to her room and I could hear my sister just screaming and screaming.”

“I have no idea what happened in that room but I ran to the bottom of my stairs and the screaming stopped, I saw my parents holding my sister crying their eyes out, she was sobbing as well. I’ve asked her about it today. She’s 24 now. She told me that Emily used to tell her to do horrible things to herself. She actually used to wake up on the roof and not remember how she got there. I’m not kidding. Apparently Emily absolutely hated my parents so she turned my sister against them. She hates talking about it so I never brought up that specific night. This all happened at my old house. When we moved into a different house, Emily was gone. I’m not making any of this up. My sisters little friend was a really big deal to my family and messed things up for a long time. I’m just relieved we left that house.”

22. She floated above his bed at night

“When my younger brother was around 4, he had an imaginary friend named Victoria Meadowbrooke. He told us that she was the prettiest girl ever and she floated above his bed a night.”

23. “The Evil is coming”

“When my older daughter was two or three, she used to have a couple of imaginary friends, Dodo and DeeDee. They were typical imaginary friends. She would talk to them and play with them, and tell me about their lives.

Then one day, when she was about three, she was talking on her play phone when I walked into the room. She hung up her phone and said to me (with a completely flat voice and deadpan expression): ‘The Evil is coming.’”

[glenncoco4]

Chasing Pavements

A/N: Had a little thought about the hopeful time jump.

———-

“Should I give up? Or should I just keep chasing pavements? Even if it leads nowwwwhere.”

Rosa turns around as she and Tay try to bite back their smiles. “Is he okay?”

A smile curls at Kensi’s lips as her husband’s movements jostle her a little and a tone that reminds her of his sad drunk persona belts out the lyrics to one of his favorite songs. “Adele makes him weepy.”

“Adele does make me weepy.” He nods in confirmation leaning his head against hers before belting out another line.

As they make their way down the hallway of the Colosseum the girls’ excitement, buzzing. They’re still in their own little world when they all reach the elevator. The four adults exchange smiles, silence filling the void for a few seconds before Tay’s mom, Kelly, turns to the agent and investigator with a smile. “So Kensi, Marty, are you two excited about Hawaii?”

Mirrored looks of confusion cross their faces at the random question before the shaggy blonde speaks up. “Hawaii? We’re always excited about Hawaii.”

“Yeah, so much so he’s been trying to convince me that we should get a timeshare in Diamond Head since we’ve been together. Actually, even before then now that I think about it.” The brunette laughs, still, a bit confused by the odd question.

Tay’s dad, Jason lights up at the mention of one of his favorite places on the island. “Oh, that’d be great. What’s that like a 13-minute drive to campus?”

Kensi’s brow furrows sharing a look with her husband before turning back to Jason. “Campus?”

“Yeah, UH.” Kelly nods, brow furrowed.

Deeks tries his best to put the pieces together but nothing’s clicking. “Okay, I’m confused now.”

“As am I.” Kensi reiterates her partner's sentiments.

Normally someone would realize that these things haven’t been discussed yet, but Jason is not that person. “Did Rosa not tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Deeks asks as both he and Kensi turn their attention towards their 17-year-old and her best friend who have stopped talking all together and are now looking at them. The heat rising to Rosa’s cheeks not going unnoticed.

“Rosa, what’s going on?” Kensi asks, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.

Tay nudges her best friend. “I thought you were gonna tell them.”

“I was.” The raven-haired teen whispers, looking guiltily back and forth between her adoptive parents.

“Rosa?” Deeks calls her name once more trying to get some answers.

Releasing a calming breath, she relents. “A coach from the University of Hawai’i came to our scrimmage Friday.”

“Okay…” Kensi nods, urging her to continue.

“He wants me to come to the soccer camp they’re hosting this summer and…”

Her pause continues to lengthen and it’s a little agonizing so much so that the blonde feels his wife’s grip tighten around his hand more and more by the second. “And what?”

“He wants me to come to camp because he offered me a scholarship and wants me to get familiar with the facility.”

Deeks’s jaw drops as he releases his partner's hand, and closes the distance between him and their girl, wrapping her in a hug. “Oh my god, Rosa, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell us?”

The guilt in her eyes can’t be hidden as she’s released from Deeks’ embrace and immediately wrapped in Kensi’s. “I was going to when we got here but I fell asleep, and then I was gonna say something on our way to the concert but you guys were so happy, and I didn’t want to ruin your mood.”

The brunette pulls back, hurt shining in her eyes as she pushes the rogue hair out of the teen's face. “Ruin it? Sweetie, we’re so proud of you. You know how major it is to get an athletic scholarship your junior year?”

“That’s what I told her!”

“Tay, not helping.”

“I am definitely helping.” The corkscrew-haired teen rebuts.  

A barely there smile pulls at Kensi’s lips as she locks hands with her partner once again. Not really sure how to identify her feelings right now. “I just don’t understand why you told them before you told us.”

Tay looks between Rosa and her parents feeling somewhat at fault for this whole thing. “Oh, no, that was all me. I got offered, too, Mr. and Mrs. Deeks. I didn’t tell them not to say anything cuz I thougt they could read social cues. Anyways, for what it’s worth I’m really hoping you’ll let her go cuz I need my girl there with me in O’ahu.”

Rosa can only imagine what they’re thinking. I mean can she really asked them for honesty when she hasn’t been honest herself no matter how unintentional it was? “I know we talked about UCLA-“

Deeks shakes his head, stopping her before she can say anymore. “That doesn’t matter. If you want to go to Hawai’i then we’re gonna support you every step of the way.”

“Yeah, this is about what you want.” The brunette agrees, her eyes shining with understanding.

“Is this what you want?”

Taking another calming breath Rosa looks at Tay and then back to the two people who have shown her more love than she ever thought possible again. “Yes, I really do. I didn’t know it until it was right in front of me.”

“Well then, looks like our girl’s a D1 athlete!” Kensi beams, shouting loud enough that Adele could probably hear it from the penthouse of Caesar’s Palace.

“You know what this calls for?” The blonde asks to no-one inparticular.

The special agent looks at her husband with a knowing smile. “Rocky Road?”

“Rock Road!” Deeks throws his arm around Kensi’s shoulders once again exchanging a dad smile with Jason before the elevator dings and they step inside the box.

A few minutes later as they’re walking into the parking lot, a knowing grin forms at the corner of the form detective’s lips. Leaning in, his lips but a breath away from his partner’s ear his smile grows wider. “I knew my late-night Zillow searches for O’ahu weren’t for nothing.”

All Kensi can do is smile because as unexpected as it is, this is their new chapter. This is the life she never thought they’d get.

[cocoabubbelle]

Watching ��Scooby Doo, Where Are You?” (1969-1970 CBS) + Thoughts

Episode 25: Don’t Fool with a Phantom

Not me trying to pronounce the flashing “KLMN” on the building as one word before realizing it’s probably an Acronym for something.

Fraphne dance for what seems like a talent show.

Is Johnny Sands based off of a celebrity?

Even without them handling it for their dance routine, Shaggy and Scooby’s taffy (it’s called toffee in the show but it’s too stretchy) looks yucky.

Monster of the week almost looks as bad as the toffee.

Velma looks comically angry at the monster’s stunts.

Johnny Sands is gone, which mean’s he’s either the culprit or the victim—oh wait, there he is.

“Come on, Johnny. The publicity stunt’s over.” She says to a man tied up in a chair. If Johnny winds up not being the masked monster, Velma’s going to look pretty insensitive.

The Wax Phantom.……Okay, yeah, no. The name doesn’t sound very intimidating (though admittedly hot wax on skin HURTS)

Ah, wax figures. That’s understandably more creepy.

Mr. Stevens the station manager, who was there earlier with everyone, including when the Wax Phantom first appeared, is suddenly gone for some reason. If he turns out to be the culprit, I hope there is an explanation as to why he was still present when the monster made its debut (such as having an accomplice or using a projector.)

Johnny isn’t helping alleviate my suspicions when he doesn’t want to call the police for risk of the studio being shut down.

“Well, it looks like we have another mystery on our hands.” Velma borrowing Fred’s catchphrase. (Frelma)

Fraphne and Shelma + Scooby split ups, because that’s always original.

Animation Goof: Daphne forgot to apply her lipstick/gloss.

Cute angry owl is cute.

Animation Goof: Shaggy is too tall for the screen’s frame.

Mr. Grisby looks suspiciously like a color swap of one of the gang’s earlier masked culprits from the first season.

“Hmmmm, looks like Mom’s stew!” He says as he’s about to take a sip without permission before skull-shaped smiley face bubbles (yes you read that right) make him lose his appetite. Also, I have questions regarding Ms. Rogers’s cooking.

Mr. Grisby flat out admits that he performed black magic to conjure up Wax Phantom. Shelma + Scooby obviously don’t report him to the police for questioning.

Remember viewers: a) Fraphne is totally a thing because Daphne is hugging Fred’s arm; b) Daphne is totally a damsel in distress who totally did not almost bash Shaggy’s head in self-defense thinking he was a masked ghost coming after her one time.

Daphne jumps into Fred’s arms after being startled from knocking over a wax figure in the wax museum. It’s an obvious attempt at another Fraphne moment and in my opinion it ignores what moments of fearlessness Daphne had in the earlier episodes but I’m highlighting it because I like a good bridal/princess carry, mmmkay~? 🤪

We don’t see Shag and Scoob looking for a window for them and Velma to enter through after the Wax Phantom locked the entrance door because that would be too interesting.

Turning on the lights brightens the scene by 3%.

Crash-into-reunion gag. More heartwarming or painful? Depends on how you really feel about your friends, whether you or they were the ones doing the crashing, and how how hard the impact is.

“Sure glad to run into you, Velma.” “Where’s Shag and Scoob?” Am I shameless and ridiculous for highlighting these as Frelma and Shaphne? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes.

You can tell which background artists actually enjoyed or overthought (thank? thunk?) their job when some of the walls of the museum are plainly colored while others look like they have a texture similar to a cavern.

When Shaggy and Scooby open the sarcophagus they somehow landed in due to shenanigans: “Shaggy! What are you doing in there?” “Like, who knows? We just dropped in to see my mummy.”

I failed to mention this earlier bc I wasn’t sure it was worth posting but those random colored screens that come with funny noises to indicate necessary/unnecessary cuts from one scene to the next are back.

Shag and Scooby get distracted by food on a display in a WAX museum and fail to connect the dots.

“Now if the Wax Phantom doesn’t drop in on us—” *cue humongous trapdoor that swallows her, Fred, and Velma whole.* Danger-Prone-Daphne never fails to disappoint.

Shag and Scoob hijinks don’t get them out of trouble this time.

Hey, it’s me from the future. For some weird reason Tumblr is giving me trouble over making this post for this particular episode, so I will be doing the rest of the points super summarized that can only be enjoyed if you read them in your best caveman voice. Even then, this site will entire/partial points that will render the rest of this post as incomplete and clunky. Apologies for the mess. Have no idea how to make Tumblr stop deleting and resurfacing my bullet points. Maybe in the future I will re-edit the post and translate what I originally had.

Apologies again.

Velms find money. Fred remember it from station. Me forgot.

Velma stop foot. Open trap door. “Velma you amazing!” “Because me angry?”

Waxy push Shag and Scoob. Want to commit murder.

Shaggy no impressed by bad guy doing predictable bad guy stuff.

Scoob and Shag no roll off conveyor belt bc that too smart.

Daphne save her man and his dog. Accidentally yes but thought still count.

Waxy chase Shag and Scoob. Fred Daphne Velma chase Waxy.

Cinderella dress. Me like.

Oh no lovey dovey chase music. Me no like.

Ok actually me like but why lovey dovey?

Shaggy’s false lashes purty.

Song: Pretty Mary Sunlight. “I tell them girls were made for kissing.” And punching. We punch too.

Loony toons physics.

It work? Yes and no WUT??

Uh oh Fred has plan.

Shag and Scoob trick Fred before Fred lure them with Scooby Snacks.

Joke on them they do plan after all when accidentally meet Waxy.

Skateboards!

Fred does oopsy and kill Shag and Scoob with wax + Waxy???

No they alive and no burned bc children’s show.

Mr. Stevens = Waxy.

No explanation for why Waxy there earlier with Mr. Stevens in beginning bc writers don’t wanna ‘splain.

Animation Goof: purple neck Daph

Day 25 of no "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

Shag and Scooby dummy word privileges deprecation privilages bc no no if someone else call them dummies.

Day 25 of no "And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

Day 25 of no “And I would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids!”

No ending gif bc tumblr no like me

Hey, this review for this episode has been giving me trouble for a while now because tumblr keeps messing with my drafts whether in progress or attempting to save them because my bullet points keep getting deleted or “deleted” only to randomly pop up later when trying to write other points.

Velma accidentally opens a secret stash of money that Fred deduces was stolen from the tv station. I had to rewind the episode to be reminded that was a thing in addition to Mr. Stevens getting caught.

“Velma! You did it again!” “What, lose my temper?” That too, but Velm’s little stomp of frifrustration of their situation triggered a secret door lever so the three of them can escape.

I see Shag + Scoob tied up and the Wax Phantom wheeling them close to a boiling bowl (??? I forget if their is a more technical term for the big bucket used to hold and mix things in factories and google isn’t helping.), and conclude this guy is capable of murder.

“Not the old ride-on-the-conveyor-belt-into-the-wax

Will the hovering ghost hand ever be explained? Also, Velma being the strongest by carrying Scooby carrying Shaggy as they escape.

The Wax Phantom…

Oh wait they found him pretty quickly. Fastest mystery solved??

Even without Shaggy and Scooby handling it in their dance routine, that toffee looks yucky.

Oh hey, the goopy monster of the week looks a sma tinge less gross than the toffee. Also, Johnny Sands/the host is gone, which means either he’s been nabbed by someone with a vendetta or he’s the culprit.

[dont-leafmealone]

we took a hard left (but we're alright)

A missing scene from chapter 11 of cancel your reservations / no more hesitations, where Jet is reunited with part of his found family and Smellerbee learns about her best friend's new boyfriend.

read on ao3

"Bee? Someone's here to see you!"

Smellerbee looked up from her notebook and the summer homework she had for Science, frowning. Anita — her soon-to-be stepmom — knew the names of her friends, which meant whoever was at the door wasn't one of them. Who is it, then? She wondered. It was late enough that anyone visiting was weird.

She put aside her notebook and took out her earphones. They didn't work for playing music anymore, but helped at least muffle the noise around her and let her focus on her work. She opened her bedroom door; Anita stood outside in the hall. 

"He asked for you. I don't know if you know him from school, or..."

He. That at least helped narrow it down, though not by much. Bee sighed. "Thanks, Anita." She squeezed past her, going toward the front door. Anita's footsteps were close behind her. Through the window, she could make out the bed of a pickup truck, but the dim light made it hard to distinguish a color. Don't get excited. Everyone and their mom drives a truck around here, she told herself, squashing down the ridiculous hope that had come up. If it was somebody from school, chances were it was their mom's, or dad's, truck.

She opened the door. For a second she didn't register who it was; when she did, her jaw dropped. 

"Jet."

"Bee!" Jet smiled, the same crooked way he'd always done, and Smellerbee could have killed him. 

Jet was still riding high on the feeling of being back here, having Zuko reunited with his uncle, and getting to see his family again. It hadn't crossed his mind, until Smellerbee answered the door and immediately leveled him with a ferocious glare, that maybe he should have called or something a little sooner. Possibly three days sooner. 

"When did you get here?" Smellerbee demanded, pushing past Jet to get out on the trailer's small porch. The door shut loudly behind her. 

"Today," he said, stepping out of her way. "What's going o—"

"It's been days since we heard from you! I had my mom call the hospital after you didn't get back with us, and they couldn't tell us anything except that you were gone. And you didn't answer your phone." 

Jet winced. He'd been unable to find his phone at the cheap apartment he, Bee and Longshot had been less-than-legally renting, and had figured it would turn up somewhere in his truck. It hadn't. "I'm sorry."

"Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?"

"I didn't," he said. "Now I do."

"Well, what the hell else were you thinking about?"

Jet had a choice here. He could tell her what he'd been thinking about, that he'd been selfishly thinking about turning around and going back to the shitty apartment, about staying in Washington, until he'd seen Zuko standing there by the road. That, for a moment, it had seemed possible — easy, even — to make a new life somewhere nobody knew him, nobody depended on him, and the excitement he had felt at the prospect terrified him now. 

Or he could keep his mouth shut, shrug, and say none of that, because that would only make her more upset, and the thought of delivering a blow like that felt like someone dropping a brick from ten stories up into his stomach. He hadn't been thinking about her and the other kids, when he'd considered staying away, but that was the problem, wasn't it? The last thing she needed was being forgotten and abandoned, even if that wasn't how he meant it. 

"I guess I wasn't thinking," he said, which was close enough to the truth for now. The heavy stuff could wait. 

"God, you're such an asshole," she said, throwing her arms around him. He instinctively returned the hug, feeling the tension ooze out of her bony frame. 

"I'm sorry," he said, burying his face in her shaggy hair. "You can still be mad at me if you want."

"Don't give me that permission," she grumbled against his chest. "I'll hurt you."

"Understood," he chuckled. He stepped back. "Am I allowed to come in?"

Bee sniffled, rubbing her eyes with a glare that dared him to say anything about it, and nodded. She pulled open the door. 

"Anita! Jet's coming in for a while!" she shouted. 

Anita. The name was familiar from dozens of phone calls, and the description he remembered matched the tall, dark-skinned woman who'd answered the door. "That's your —"

"Mom's fiancée," Smellerbee said. "They're getting married in winter."

"Huh." Jet tried to decipher Bee's attitude. "You like her?"

Bee shrugged. "She doesn't bitch about me wearing boys' clothes or too much makeup," she said, shoulders hunched. Jet guessed that was the closest thing to a 'yeah' he was going to get. 

"Well, that's good." He ruffled her hair. "Come on, it's too hot out here."

"Syd and Cameron are at the house this week," Bee told Jet, handing him a cup of iced tea. He sat in the rocker next to the couch, his tattered tank top and cutoffs looking out of place with the old-fashioned carved wood and plaid cushions. He gave a hum of indifference as he sipped the tea through the straw. 

"Were they disappointed to hear I made it?" he asked, putting the cup down. Smellerbee frowned. 

"Syd didn't really say anything when I told her what all had happened. Just hung up the phone. I guess she'd probably already got a call, being your guardian 'n all that."

"Some guardian," Jet muttered. He sighed, rocking the chair a couple times while he sipped, ice cubes clinking in the glass. "Guess I'm sleepin' in the truck bed again. You know how many bug bites I got over he last couple days?" He held out his arm, where red bumps covered his wrist. "Total nightmare. It's just a good thing it didn't rain overnight."

"Your piece of junk truck made it over all the state lines again?" Smellerbee asked with wonder.

"Yep. She's stronger than my ribs, you know," he said, and Bee couldn't help flinching. His amused look faded, guilt replacing it. "Sorry. I'm working on not doing that."

"You wouldn't be you if you weren't making people uncomfortable," she said, taking a long drink of her tea. "Other than the bugs, how was the drive?"

Jet held his cup with both hands, looking down into it. "Pretty good," he said, ducking his head, not enough to hide the red creeping up his neck. His voice was a couple octaves higher than usual, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I mean, it was fine. You know."

Bee stared at him, before getting up on her knees and shoving his shoulder. "Don't tell me you went and got a girlfriend!"

"Ow!" he exclaimed, rubbing his shoulder, and rebalancing his drink to keep it from spilling. "Fine! I don't have a girlfriend!"

It was too genuine to be a lie, but that blush hadn't faded. Smellerbee scoffed. "What happened, you hook up with some guy at a truck stop?"

"No! Jeez." He rolled his eyes. "He needed a ride home, so I let him tag along. We got along pretty well, so..."

"Oh my god. You picked up some random guy and, what, wined him and dined him in the back of your shitty truck?" she asked, laughing.

"This is why I don't tell you things, you know that, right?" Jet said, deadpan. Bee shook her head, still in disbelief. 

"I thought you had standards, man."

"I do."

"It's been a total of, what, a whole week since you left Washington —"

"Three days."

"And you found your true love at some truck stop —"

"It was a quarter mile from a bus stop, get your facts straight —"

"And in that time you've gone and fallen in love with this random stranger." Bee stared at him. "Do you even know where he lives?"

"Next county over with his uncle. He knows Jin," Jet said, with a raised eyebrow like he dared her to argue with that point. What are even the odds of that? she wondered in bewilderment. 

"Fine. Fine," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "I'm sure you and the weirdo who somehow fell for you after spending time inside your truck will be perfectly happy together."

Jet shoved her shoulder, but smiled a little. "His name's Zuko," he said, with the sappy look she'd been used to seeing in association with Jin's name; then Haru's; then Katara's.

 Oh brother. He's in deep, isn't he? 

"Zuko like the guy from that crappy '70s movie?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. Jet rolled his eyes. 

"No, ​​​​​​not Zuko like the guy from Grease. You think I'd date a tool like that?" he asked, leaning back in his seat and chewing on the end of his straw; he looked off at the other side of the room, his expression suddenly a million miles away. "He's...he's like me, you know? He knows what it's like to do shit you regret and to run away from it. And...you can't, you have to come back and face it. I think I need someone like that."

Smellerbee watched Jet, quiet. He didn't really talk about his feelings a whole lot, but when he did, it was hard not to listen. She sighed. 

"Okay," she said. "I wanna meet him, though, so I'm reserving judgement until then. And I will put the fear of death in him if he so much as looks at you wrong," she warned. Jet cracked a wide grin, ruffling her hair. 

"I missed ya," he said. 

"Oh, cut it out," she huffed, pushing his hand away with a fond glare. She got up, grabbing his empty cup. "Come on, Anita made cookies this morning, let's see if she'll let us have some."

Jet smiled and got up, tucking her under his arm as she led him to the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the dry-grass and gasoline smell of his clothes. 

It was good to have him back. 

[anxiouswritingbitch]

heyyy!! it would mean a lot if you could write some hcs on how nick furcillo would be during halloween 😭😭 tysm again i love ur blog ❤️

Hi ! Of course ! I hope you like it ! I wrote some stuff about Americans and Halloween but I'm European, so forgive me if I got things wrong lmaoo

Remember, requests are open in my inbox <3

ɴɪᴄᴋ ꜰᴜʀᴄɪʟʟᴏ ᴀᴛ ʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ (ft. Jacob and the counselors)

First of all, Nick is Australian. He probably grew up there, so even if every country know what is Halloween and some people celebrate, nobody does it like America.

So yeah, when he got to the states, he was a bit confused. He felt like Halloween was like a religion there. Sure, he got trick or treating with a few of his friends when they asked, but he never lived the full experience.

Enters Number #1 Himbo : Jacob Custos. He is DETERMINED to make Nick love Halloween as much as he does. It's his life goal since summer.

Nick won't admit it, because he feels like saying "I want to go trick or treating" makes him sound like a child, but he's really excited.

Jacob has this idea to throw a party at his house and to invite all the counselors, Laura and Max included. We all know how the last party went, so it took a lot of convincing they're still traumatized lmao but they all say yes.

Nick stayed closest to Jacob after the events of the summer. They kept in touch and texted frequently, hence how Jacob learned that he had never had a proper Halloween.

SO. Party at Jacob's ! As we know, Nick was the cook at camp, so of course he was the one who baked all the sweets and made the candies. It's insane how much work he put to make them scary. He looked at recipes for orange food and even asked Abi for scary cupcake icing ideas. He stays the day at Jacob's, who spent it decorating the house.

He even makes punch Jacob adds most of the alcohol, because he saw American teens drink it at parties.

The costumes. Oh boy the costumes. That's probably what he is the most excited about. He chose to go with Dracula. He isn't white but who cares, not all vampires are pale. The clothes look very classy on him.

Speaking of costume, everyone got a vibe check by Jacob when entering the house.

Abi is dressed as a witch, Emma as cat-woman. Jacob went full nasty and dressed as a Hot Nurse. Laura came as Frankenstein and Max as Shaggy from Scooby Doo it fits his vibe sm, fight me. Kaitlyn is a gremlin, Dylan is Mr. Spock and Ryan is a zombie. Before you ask, yes they are all hot.

Dylan wanted Nick to be Crocodile Dundee, Jacob wanted him to be a kangaroo. Nick said they were being racist. Jokingly ofc.

Whenever the door rings, Emma or Abi go to open the door. Nick always takes a sneak peek at the kids' reactions to his candies. They love it. He's very happy.

Finally, it's trick or treat time. Of course, Jacob, Dylan, Kaitlyn, Laura and Nick go. The other are either too happy or afraid to go. Max stays mostly to watch over them. He has that mom energy.

Jacob is ON FIRE. He drags Nick everywhere with him, and Nick is living. his. best. life. It's definitely way funnier than when he was a kid.

Then something happens. They ring a house's bell, and an old lady gives them fucking Peanut Butter Butterpops. One bag. Kaitlyn and Dylan burst out laughing, Laura is lost.

The contest is ON. Whoever has the fullest candy bag gets to keep the treasure.

They stay out until way too late. And maybe are too drunk.

Nick ends up again winning the contest. But because he's a kind boy and that the whole thing was Jacob's idea, they share the bag.

Pretends that his bag is so full of candies because he wanted to give them to Abi. It's a lie it was for the butterpops, but a man gotta keep a face.

Nick really enjoyed the night, his tummy will probably burst from the candies and the expired butterpops (pop pop pop 'em in your mouth !) and he can't wait for next year to do it all again.

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

If Hunter was raised by a better adoptive family, would he have any interests other than reading books? Like any sport and if so, which one? Also I have a question about Ada and Gunner - you mentioned that Ada would going to dance, did you have a specific style in mind? Would Gunner have had short hair or longer hair while living with his adoptive mothers? And what about the style of clothing? Sorry for asking about such trivial things, I got sucked into this AU 😅

So many questions, I love it! 💞

Hunter in my mind is a little nerd and always will be. He can still be athletic, defiantly likes playing games if asked or in P.E at school, and will play soccer with Gunner and Spider in the cabin but he wouldn't actually have an interest in any sports and that’s regardless of better parents

Ada would start dancing ballet around 4-5 but would branch out into other styles as she get's older. I can see her really enjoying tap too, because of how loud and energetic it is.

Style wise, Ada is very colorful and eccentric, lots of hot pink, purple, bright blue, neon green, fun patterned leggings, and glitter everything. I’ve been writing a part 3 and in that I mentioned that Ada is big fan of Tangled and decided when she was little that she wanted hair like Rapunzel  so it’s insanely long, like past her butt. She’ll wear lots of big bows in it or flowers or clips with rainbows and unicorns on them in her hair and one of her moms always helps her style it.

Gunner is the complete opposite. He’s very laid back and low maintenance, and his style reflects that. His clothes are sporty, easy to move in, comfortable. Probably would go out wearing things that clashed if his moms didn’t help him pick his outfits, because he legitimately does not care. Clothes are clothes so why can’t the bright orange basket ball shorts go with the striped purple shirt and the lime green shoes. He doesn’t care about his hair either so it’s just kept short, off his neck, out of his face, with just enough length on top for his curls to show. It’ll actually start to annoy him when it gets long enough to get in his eyes.

I had the kinda dumb idea that maybe Gunner’s hair was getting to that point were it starts to annoy him when he was kidnapped, so after a few weeks it’s just a grown out mess that’s driving him absolutely crazy but he won’t say anything about it. Since the twins are only 10 Ada still needs a little help maintaining her hair but she won’t let any of the adults help her so Spider does, brushing and braiding it for her every day. While helping his little sister Spider notices Gunner blowing his bangs out of his eyes, looking like he wants to punch a wall because of it and offers his assistance. Gunner’s hair is still too short to braid but Ada runs and grabs all of her hair clips. The ones with rainbows, butterflies, flowers and unicorns on them. And her and Spider just pin all of Gunner’s shaggy hair up so he’s comfortable. He looks crazy in the end but he doesn’t care, he feels better now so what else matters. Quaritch sees his youngest son and is just like what the fuck kid, just let me cut it for you. Gunner can see the clear disapproval in his father’s eyes and because he’s petty and stubborn decides to grow his hair out, even though it annoys him, and let his siblings do the silliest shit to it every day just to see a little bit of Quaritch die inside when he lays eyes on him. Probably a bit of crack idea but it was entertaining in my head at least.

[aparticularbandit]

Stolen: Chapter One: Starburst

Chapter Summary: Billy has a horrible headache.  He gets into a fight with his brother.  Then his headache gets worse.

Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M for adult themes, particularly regarding loss of bodily autonomy.

AO3

previous chapter / next chapter

Roughly a decade later:

Billy’s head aches.

It’s not like his head hasn’t hurt before; Tommy pushed him out of the tree in their backyard once because he’d thought maybe he could fly, and Billy landed flat on his head.  His neck felt weird when he stood up, but he twisted it this way and that, heard a sharp crack, and then been fine.  Mostly.  He had a sharp pain in the back of his head for almost a week after that, and a nice slash through his forehead that his mom stitched back together with a wave of her hand, but that was different than this.

This is just a constant, thrumming, low ache.

Billy furrows his brow, but that just makes the pain worse.  He closes his eyes, shakes his head.  It doesn’t help.  Of course, this ache has been here for almost a week; it’s not bad enough to tell his mom about it.  It just makes everything so loud. Sometimes, it feels like there’s a running line of static through his brain at all times, like he can’t quite make out what anyone else is actually saying.

And right now, it feels a little too much like—

“Boys?”  Billy’s mom calls from somewhere downstairs, voice loud enough to make it through the floor. “What do you want for dinner?  I’m going to start cooking soon!”

Man, I want pizza, Tommy, Billy’s brother, indicates loud and clear.  Mom should get pizza.  Or stuff to make pizza.  Then I can throw flour in Billy’s—

“Boys?”

Billy shakes his head again.  No way. He ignores his mom’s call and pops his head out of his bedroom doorway, glares down the hall to where his twin brother is starting to stomp down the stairs.  “I hate it when you put flour in my hair!”

At first, Tommy sniggers.  Then he stops and turns to Billy.  “I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, you did!”  Billy continues to glare at his brother.  “You were talking about pizza and making pizza and then about throwing flour in my face!”

Tommy’s eyes narrow.  “I didn’t say any of that!”  He runs down the stairs.  “Mom!  Mo-om!”

Billy pushes himself from his bed, winces when the throbbing ache in his head grows louder (Momcan’tknowhecan’ttellhershe’llbesoupset), and then thunders down the stairs after his brother.  “Mom, I don’t want pizza, Tommy’s just gonna use it to throw flour at me!”

“You can’t prove that!  I never said that!”  Tommy shoves Billy just as he makes it down the stairs and then runs away, giggling, as Billy falls to the ground.  I’m gonna get to Mom first and—

“No, you’re not!” Billy yells out. He pushes a hand through his shaggy black hair, winces again (everything is so loud now, and it didn’t used to be, and he doesn’t know why it started being that way, and his head hurts, and—), and forces himself up.  There’s no way he’s going to catch up to Tommy, but he tries anyway.  His twin has always been the faster of them, and it’s not fair, and he doesn’t want a flour fight, and—

Billy runs smack dab into Tommy’s back.  “Ow.”  He steps back, rubbing his nose.  “What’d you stop for?”  Then he glances up, and a bright grin plays about his face.  “Auntie Agnes!”

There are two great constants in Billy’s life (well, three, if you count Tommy, which he doesn’t): his mom, pretty and sweet and rigid, and his aunt Agnes, pretty and sweet and flexible. Actually, they’re both flexible, but Agnes is never rigid.  His mom could say no sweets before dinner and maybe change her mind if Agnes brought cookies over.  Agnes, knowing his mom’s rule about sweets before dinner, would bring cookies (and sometimes talk her mom into more than one).  If his mom has a rule, Agnes knows how to find a way around it without really breaking it, and both twins love – and hate – her for this in equal measure, mostly because it means they never know who’s side she’ll be on in one of their fights.

In all honesty, Agnes should be on Tommy’s side.  She’s the one who introduced them to flour fights, after all, when she’d first taught them how to make chocolate chip cookies (Always add a little more sugar than the recipe calls, and just a touch of cinnamon) and then booped the tip of his mom’s nose with that same touch of flour.  His mom stared at her, wrinkled her nose, and grinned (So you want a fight, do you?), and Agnes’s eyes twinkled as she started to stir her pot of homemade caramel (Oh, no, dear.  I would never pick a fight with you).  Tommy, however, took her cue and threw more than a dash of flour at Billy, who’d hidden in a cabinet during the ensuing battle.  He hated it. Hated it.

But – in this case – because Agnes is expected to be on Tommy’s side, she’ll probably be on Billy’s.  She’s a lot less easy to pin down that way.

“Howdy, neighbors!”  Agnes smiles because she always smiles, and she beams at them because she always beams at them.  Point of fact, Billy doesn’t think he’s ever seen her anything other than cheerful. His mom, sure, she has her moments, and sometimes she snaps at them when she’s mad (although she takes great care to apologize later, and she doesn’t do it very often), but Agnes?  Never snaps.  Never gets mad.  Gets rightly sad when Tommy tells her he’s stubbed his toe or Billy says Tommy pushed him out of a tree (again), but always has a quick joke to get them back to feeling better.  “Say,” she props one hand on her hip, “what’s cooking? Something smells absolutely divine.”

Tommy wrinkles his nose.  “Nothing’s cooking.  Mom was just asking us about dinner, and I was going to say pizza, but—”

“He wants to throw flour in my face,” Billy finishes for him, crossing his arms and staring up at Agnes, meeting her bright blue eyes.  “He doesn’t actually want pizza.”  His face contorts, and he frowns, gaze dropping.  “He just wants to make fun of me.”

“I never said—”

“Yes, you did!”  Billy whirls to his brother, glaring at him.  “I heard you loud and clear!  And saying how you were gonna get to Mom first and how I couldn’t because then I’d tell her—”

“I didn’t say any of that!”

Billy just continues to glare at his brother.  “I heard you, Tommy!  Don’t lie!” He looks up at Agnes, meeting her eyes again.  “Tell him! Tell him he shouldn’t lie!”

“Well, I don’t know, Mr. Shakespeare,” Agnes says.  She taps her chin with one slender finger.  “If Tommy says he didn’t say any of it, then—”

At first, Billy just hears Tommy’s laughing, “See?” but before he can turn away to his brother, hands clenched into fists at his sides, he hears a loud yowling, piercing screaming.  It rings in his ears so loud that he hunches over, covering them.  That doesn’t help.  Nothing helps.  If anything, covering his ears just makes the screaming louder.  It wracks through his already aching skull, echoing and reverberating and layering itself over itself, over and over and over again.

For a moment – just a moment – Billy is convinced that it’s Agnes.

Then it’s so loud that his ears start to feel like they’re splitting, except he’s not sure the sound is coming through his ears, so maybe it’s just his head that feels like it’s splitting

Billy yells.

The last thing he feels before blacking out is Tommy’s hand on his back, Tommy’s hand gripping him, Tommy’s hand shaking him roughly, and the last thing he sees is Agnes standing above him, bright blue eyes wide, panicked, with confusion, her mouth pressed shut in a thin little line.