#michael never looks spelled right to me

[lou-struck]

Made with Love Part 1

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST !

~After Luke uses a bowl from Solomon's Lab to make some Cookies for the Valentines Day party. Everyone starts acting a bit... Love Drunk.

a/n: I hope you guys like this little Valentine's Day series! If you want to be tagged in part 2 Comment Below!

Introduction:

As the Angel reaches up on his tiptoes to reach an upper kitchen cabinet, Luke's little white beret slips from his white blonde head. The sweet smell of angelic sugar cookies wafts through the air around him from the dozens of batches he has made today. From what he has 'sampled' earlier, he can tell that if he were to wrap them up right now, even Barbatos would have seconds. But he wants to frost and decorate the little heart-shaped cookies with a whipped-cloud icing you like before bringing them to Diavolo's castle for his Valentine's Day celebration.

The party may be small, but it was planned especially with you in mind. 

Although he was up in the Celestial Realm running an errand for Michael, Luke heard all about the little prank that Solomon played on Simeon and the others about some evil, human-world monster called Cupid that was trying to steal you away. 

You were never in any real danger, but he and everyone else agreed that the prank made the day less enjoyable for you. Which is the last thing anyone wanted. 

Meetings were held, contracts were signed, and it was agreed that for this Valentine's Day, there would be no funny business. 

Today has to be perfect for you, so his cookies need to be frosted.

Fueled by his good-natured desire to make you something sweet, Luke is able to reach just a bit higher, his fingertips grabbing the ceramic mixing bowl by its patterned edge. 

This victory is short-lived, however, as it slips past his butter-coated fingers and thuds to the ground, the heavy bowl splitting in two.

The broken bowl in front of him causes the Angel to feel a bit distressed. Why couldn't he be bigger?

To clean up the fallen pieces.

But as his kitchen timer takes down slowly he realizes that he's running out of time. He has to get the frosting made soon.

"Where are all the other mixing bowls?" he wonders aloud as he looks through the other cabinets and dishwasher, finding none. 

He knows that there are more than just the ones he has been using for the batter. But where are they?

He puffs out his little cherub cheeks with a pout as he tries to think where they could've gone.

And then, it hits him.

Solomon…

The Sorcerer has a habit of 'borrowing' things from the kitchen, bringing them into his Lab, hoarding them, and not bringing them back for weeks. The batch of cookies in the oven only has a few minutes left, so he wastes no time scampering up to the Lab to retrieve the stolen mixing bowls.

Thankfully, the dark wooden door to the Lab is unlocked, and he slips inside. Every step is anxious for the little Angel. You never know what is crawling about Solomon's Lab. 

This time, the air is unusually sweet, like cotton candy and pomegranate seeds. 

The mouthwatering smell has the angeling giggling to himself, although Solomon can't cook an edible meal to save his life, some of the spells and potions he cooks up can be classified as tasty.

From the corner of his eye, Luke sees a small stack of his mixing bowls on the countertop. But as he gets close, he sees that they are completely filthy, covered in remnants of some experiment.

Luke knows not to try to touch those ones; after all, the last time he tried to clean some of Solomon's dishes, he ended up cursed with webbed feet for a whole day. 

As he shudders from the memory, he spots a light blue bowl on the edge of another table. 

It's his favorite bowl; this one would be perfect for him to use to make the frosting. 

The best part is it looks clean. 

BUZZ...

The sharp ringing of the kitchen timer causes the little Angel to jump as he hastily grabs the bowl and runs downstairs so his cookies won't burn. 

But in his rush to prevent what he thinks would be the day's biggest disaster, he fails to notice the small layer of shimmery glaze that has gathered at the bottom of the bowl.

~

There is Love in the dark, chilly air of the devildom as you make your way to the Demon Lord's castle. Your feet are not quite running, but they step with an embarrassed quickness, 

The Valentine's Day outfit that Asmodeus picked out for you earlier had caused a few delays, so now you worry you are running late to the party. 

How can one shirt have so many different types of buttons and zippers?

A part of you wonders if the Avatar of Lust had given you this particular outfit to distract you and prevent you from leaving for the party with the other brothers. 

Your hands pat the back pockets of your jeans again as you feel the solid outline of your DDD through the fabric and sigh in relief. Barbatos wrote on the invitations that bringing the device was necessary for today's events since he had planned a few party games that required them. 

It's then you notice a little figure dressed in white slowly making his way up the path just ahead of you. 

Luke's steps are as small as he awkwardly carries a large container. You are about to ask him if he needs any help, but the look of determination on his face tells you not to try and take it from him, so instead, you raise a friendly hand and call after him.

When he sees you, he stands up a bit straighter. 

"Mc, Happy Valentine's Day." he beams. 

"Thank you, Luke." you look down at the box curiously. "Whatcha got there?"

The little Angel's cheeks turn a bit pink as he looks shyly away from you. "I made angelic sugar cookies for the party.

Your grin is elated at his words. "Those are so good. That was very thoughtful of you, Luke."

He perks up like a little dog at your compliment. "It was nothing, I made that frosting you like too, but I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, so only a few were frosted."

"I'm sure everyone will love them." you smile purposely, making your strides small so the little guy can keep up with you. "Did you remember to bring your DDD for the party games?"

His blue eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you with an expression of pure distress. "Oh no, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Since you have that big box of cookies, I can just run back to Purgatory Hall and grab it for you." you offer with a kind smile. "Where did you leave it."

He looks at you gratefully, and his shoulders relax as much as he can with that huge box of cookies in his hands. "You would really do that for me? Thank you, you're the best Mc; I think I left it on the kitchen counter."

Sounds good, I'll see you in a little bit." you smile. As you turn around, you remember one more thing. "Make sure to save a cookie for me."

"Don't worry," he calls back happily. "I will."

~

The enormous doors part for Luke in an almost haunting manner as he approaches the castle door. He fights the shudder as he steps inside, clutching his box of cookies with a death grip as his ears pick up the faint sound of conversation. 

He follows it closer and closer to the banquet hall, where he was told the party would be held. 

As the sounds grow louder, he can make out the excited rambling of Leviathan, the loud and merry laughter of Diavolo, and the animated squealing of Asmodeus. 

Although they are demons, their happy chatter soothes his nerves as he pushes open the door with his shoulder. 

The conversation in the room dies as the door creaks open. And when he steps out from behind the wood, he notes that everyone has been staring at him. When everyone sees it's just him, they quickly return to their usual conversations. 

"I'm glad you could make it, Luke," Barbatos says with a polite smile, being the first one to recover from the momentary disappointment. 

Simeon approaches the smaller Angel friendlily, placing a hand on top of Luke's head and ruffling his hair. "It seems everyone heard you approaching and assumed you were Mc."

"It could've been." he mumbles embarrassedly, "I had forgotten something back at home, and they offered to get it for me so I could bring over the cookies."

"Cookies?" Beel says, his head snapping towards Luke with gluttonous intent.

Luke's fondness for the Avatar of Gluttony's interest in his sweets causes him to smile and place the box on the table.

He removes the first layer of beautifully frosted cookies for all to see. "Yeah, I made these for the party. That's why I was running late today. 

"Smells good," Beel mutters, taking a slow step toward the tray of cookies. Luke is so proud of the attention he garnered that he doesn't realize that everyone else is staring at the plate as well, enthralled by the sweet smell. 

"Ohhh, they're soooo cute." Asmodeus gushes, holding up the heart-shaped cookie with his freshly manicured nails. The little red heart decals stand out on the glossy pink background.

Lucifer clears his throat. "May I try one?" he asks, "I do not have the biggest sweet tooth, but since it is a Holiday, I may as well."

"S-sure." the Angel replies, as everyone reaches for a cookie. There are only a few left on the plate, so he decides to wait to have one himself until you get here.

"Thank you, Luke, these look delicious," Barbatos says, removing his white glove before touching the gooey sweet. 

Luke watches as everyone takes a bite of the cookies, his heart feeling full when he hears the sounds of approval as they chew. 

"Wow," these are really good," Levi says, being the first to try to take another cookie.

"Wait," he says quickly, snatching the plate off the table. "These are Mc's favorite; let's wait until they get back to eat another one.

Lucifer giggles and stumbles back clumsily. "Yay, Mc's coming…" The dreamy lift in his tone makes Luke's eyes go wide in alarm. 

Something is wrong. 

Are they drunk???

"Mc…Cutie Pie." Satan hums; the usual sharp intelligence in his expression is gone and replaced with giddy lovesickness.

There is a haze to the Prince's eyes and a ruddiness to his cheeks as he nods thoughtfully. "I'll bring this plate up to my chambers. I want to feed them every bite myself. 

"No way," Levi says way too confidently. "If anyone will be alone in a room with Mc. It will be me.

Barbaots stretches his arms out lethargically. "I'm… going to lay down in my room." he yawns. "Tell Mc to come to my room when they get here."

"You're tired, Barbatos?" Belphegor asks, the Avatar of Sloth looking wide awake."

"Yer not?" Mammon slurs, his pupils dilated. Luke turns and looks into the Avatar of Greed's eyes and sees that his pupils are now heart-shaped. 

"How could I be?" the youngest of the seven answers. "Mc is coming soon, and I don't want to waste my time sleeping when I can be looking at them. 

"Do you think Mc would give me a piggyback ride?" Beel hums absentmindedly. 

"Course they would." Mammon gushes. "Mc is super strong and pretty and smart. And….~" his love-sick rambling is cut off by a dark chuckle from Simeon. 

"No way," he coos. "You would crush them if you jumped on their back. You clearly don't know how to treat someone as special as Mc. 

"And you do?" Levi laughs.

Simeon's smile is sinful. "Let's just say once I had my turn with them, Mc won't be thinking about any of you."

"That's so inappropriate." Asmodeus gasps with wide eyes. "I-i can't have you speaking about Mc like that." he covers his ears with his hands to block out the sound. 

"Some Avatar of Lust you are," Simeon smirks, leaning in and using his writer's brain to get a bit descriptive with what he would like to do to you when you get to the party. 

"What is wrong with you guys?" Luke stammers as he tries to block out Simeon's sinful words. 

With everyone else thinking about nothing but you, Solomon shyly taps a rather distressed Luke on the shoulder. His cheeks are a soft shade of pink as he stares down at the floor, "I-i think I know what is happening…"

~Why was in those cookies??? Find out what happens next in part 2

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: *sitting in front of Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos while staring at them blankly*

Diavolo: We're really glad to finally see you conscious, MC.

Lucifer: Please tell us if you're still feeling unwell. *smiles* We can stay here in Demon Lord's Castle for your fast recovery.

MC: ...

MC: *tilts their head* Fast... recovery? Have you never been aware that this body has lost its soul?

Diavolo: We're aware of that fact, yes. But seeing you right now, it means that your soul has found its way back.

MC: *blinks at him* Why would it return? Does it have any reason to?

Diavolo: ...

Barbatos: I'm guessing that there's not-

Lucifer: You love us, MC. Yes. We might've driven you to despair, but we will do everything in our power to fix that.

MC: So you think you can fix a broken glass?

MC: You are... so full of yourself. No wonder this body feels so empty inside.

MC: That I want to shatter it.

Diavolo: I won't allow you to hurt yourself!

MC: Why not? Its previous owner wants the same thing, for this body to begone.

MC: If you're truly concerned about them, wouldn't it be better to follow their wish?

Lucifer and Diavolo: ...

Barbatos: MC- No, what are you?

MC: Nothing. My existence is of no importance. Just allow me to end it so I can be on my way.

Lucifer: That won't happen. *uses a spell to make them sleep*

MC: *their body goes limp as they close their eyes*

Barbatos: Lucifer...

Diavolo: It seems MC is still angry with us. But I'm certain that it will go away just like with Satan's.

Barbatos: ...

Luke: *still cuddling MC* Are you really the MC I know? You're not just an illusion?

MC: *smiles* Yes. It's me, Luke.

Luke: *tearing up again*

MC: Please don't cry. Your eyes are already puffy. *wiping his tears away*

Luke: Will you never leave again? I see that you've become an angel. D-Does that mean father has given you another chance?

MC: ...

MC: *masked their expression as to not worry him* Yes. Isn't that wonderful?

Luke: Hm! *finally smiled* You look great as an angel, MC!

MC: Thank you, Luke.

Raphael: I've failed to catch them.

Michael: They must've found a secure place to hide.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: You don't seem to be worried now, Michael. Why is that?

Michael: MC is still an angel. Sooner or later, I would be able to feel their presence and they could never hide from us again.

Raphael: ...

Raphael: Once we see them, I suggest that you finish what needs to be done.

Michael: Hm? Why, Raphael?

Michael: What's wrong with having a little bit of fun?

Raphael: ...

Mammon: You told us that MC finally woke up and now you made them sleep?!

Lucifer: I had to. MC is not in their usual self. I'm only trying to protect them.

Levi: We understand that, but... Is that an enough reason to make them stay in the attic?

Lucifer: That is the safest part of the house.

Belphie: *feels sick hearing that, but he doesn't make a comment*

Lucifer: All of you, when MC wakes up, pay heed no mind to whatever they say.

Asmo: What does that mean?

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: *holds their cheek and caresses it with his thumb* They are unwell.

His brothers: ...

[devildomwriter]

Can i get some headcanons on the angels being guardians of MC? 👀 In the manga, a pact with a demon requires them touching foreheads to make it, and they have to listen to their master's orders. What can the guardian and the charge do? Call for the other for help? Know when the other is in trouble or just need a hand? -Water Anon

Guardian Angel Headcanons

• An Angel canonically can only be the guardian to one human. It’s not specified if it’s one at a time or not and if they’d be able to guard someone again when the previous charge has passed.

• They get chills when their charge is in serious danger, they can hear their pleas for help, and stronger angels can answer telepathically if they only need an answer to a question or reassuring words.

• They can dispel viruses and curses more easily than if they weren’t your guardian, and can heal virtually anything with ease, be it mental or physical, whatever you ask for.

• They will immediately put their lives on the line for you and will not allow harm to come to you while you are their charge.

• If they for some reason cannot reach your side when you are in danger or in pain, you will receive some of their energy to keep you safe.

Simeon

• Simeon’s style of guarding is very relaxed. He believes it’s better you find things out for yourself and will give gentle pushes for you to find the right answers or make the right changes.

• He will always show up if you call for him, even if it’s ridiculous, because he loves you so he’s always willing to pamper you, but he does have a job so you might have to wait sometimes.

• If you’re in serious danger, he’s there instantly because he already sensed it. Simeon is normally calm and relaxed so to see him become serious and upset when he needs to protect you from something can be very surprising. If it’s person putting you in danger, his sadistic side comes out with cheerful smile and laugh as he takes care of the threat—as an angel he can’t kill them but the fear he instills is enough.

• Simeon can always tell when you need him, even if it’s not dangerous. He’ll be there for a pep talk, comfort kisses, cuddles, and a nice meal.

Luke

• You’re a handful. He has his work cut out for him, and before this he thought you were the most normal of the bunch.

• “No, MC don’t touch that!” “But you’ll protect me right?” “That’s not the point— NOOOOO MC!”

• Thanks to your guardian pact he can hear your pleas for help and he’s always super panicked but most of the time it’s because you want sweets and don’t know the recipe. He’s relieved and happy to help but make sure not to use him like a personal chef.

• He can tell when you’re in danger and gets chills but most of the time you’re just hanging out with one of the demons.

• He makes you say something specific when you’re in literal immediate danger in case he needs back up. Don’t misuse it because Raphael will show up with spears and he won’t be happy if it’s for something ridiculous.

Raphael

• Raphael is extremely protective and efficient with his job. Sometimes he can’t tell why you called him to specific situations so you’ll need to tell him.

• No matter what you called him for, he already has the spear ready. He scared people a lot by mistake. Police are still looking for a man walking around with a giant spear that cared away a group of people intimidating you.

• After saving you, Raphael won’t leave your side for a while, he needs to make sure you’re still oky and nothing else happens.

• He might guard your door at night, especially if you’re not in a good head space.

• Raphael struggles with understanding emotions so he takes a minute to learn how to help you with yours when you ask for help calming down, feeling happier, etc.

• Raphael can take on anything by himself so he never needs backup. Just calling for him scares people who know of him.

Michael

• Michael became your guardian because he knows that if you were to suddenly die it’d spell doom, as the brothers, ruler of hell, his greatest warrior, etc. would not ever be okay again.

• He already canonically saved you many times. When you almost died in the reaper cave for breaking a rule, and when Solomon’s good sent you into the past.

• He was pleasantly surprised when he found out you weren’t a wicked person but sometimes he’s baffled by your decisions and will telepathically communicate to definitely not do that thing.

• If you’re mentally stressed he sends you blessings and if he can meet you in person he will. His presence is also powerful enough to banish any curse without trying.

• Try not to call him upon demons because this could spell serious trouble for peace between the worlds but if he knows you’re in trouble he’ll lend you holy power to protect yourself to avoid disturbing the alliance with the Devildom.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A four part miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Robin poured over the book that Eddie had bought at the Flea Market. She was reading it rather intensely. She looked up at Eddie.

"You said you bought this at a Flea Market?" Robin asked.

"Actually, it was free. There was this woman selling only this. I thought it was strange, especially when she wouldn't sell it until I came up. She said, "This is for you," and gave it to me," Eddie said. "I tried going back the next weekend, but she was gone, and no one ever heard of her."

"That is. . .odd," Dustin said.

"Well, everything else is in English, but the spells are in Latin," Robin said.

"No, they were all in English. I read English," Eddie said.

"Uh, Eddie, you weren't speaking in English when you said the spell," Lucas said.

"I wasn't?" He asked.

"No," Dustin, Mike, and Lucas said.

"Why are you still glaring at me, Michael?" Robin asked. "I almost punched you, but I didn't. . . Anyway, it says here that only people with Wiccan blood can automatically translate the spells in their head and perform them."

"Wait, does this mean that I'm a witch?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

"Holy shit! This is the COOOLEST!" Eddie yelled.

"Hey, maybe you can use your powers to help Steve find his parents," Dustin said.

"Oh, shit, that's right. . .Harrington was kidnapped," Eddie winced and whirled around. "Sorry, man."

Steve had plopped down on Eddie's throne and leaned back against it as he crossed his legs. He was staring straight ahead, looking at nothing. Eddie tried to ignore how good he looked in that chair and also the fact that he wanted to untangle his legs to sit down in his lap. His face looked troubled, so Eddie easily pushed those thoughts away.

"You okay, man?" Eddie asked.

"Steve?" Robin asked.

"Shit! Robin, who's at the store?!" Steve asked, sitting up.

"I closed the store and hitched a ride with a customer. Keith is going to be pissed but I thought you were being murdered," Robin said. "Anyway, more important things to focus on here, babe. Are you okay?"

"Well, my parents aren't my parents, which I kind of always thought, but I didn't think they kidnapped me. Do you think they might have killed my real parents?" Steve asked.

"I don't know, but we're going to fucking find out because you look like a goddamn kicked puppy and the way you're inflating your eyes like that is killing me," Eddie said as he ripped the book out of Robin's hands.

"We're just going to ignore a lot of the secrets that Steve spilled, right?" Dustin asked.

"Even the sex dream about - " Lucas started to say.

"Yes, because that's my fucking sister and Will's brother!" Mike exclaimed.

"Ah, the sex dream. Did you mention the clown sitting in the corner watching while it made balloon animals?" Robin asked.

"No!" Steve scowled. "Fucking clowns."

"Did you really touch Steve’s dick?" Dustin asked Robin.

"Yes, and my lesbianism is still very much intact," Robin said. "Thank God."

"I thought we weren't going to talk about this!" Mike yelled.

"Mike's such a prude. He's afraid to talk about sex even though we're all sentient walking water bags made of sex and flesh," Dustin said.

"Okay. Now, you just made me uncomfortable. Never describe it like that again," Eddie said.

Dustin gave him a toothy grin, and he smiled softly before looking back at the book.

"What are we going to do if my parents are like dead or on the other side of the world?" Steve asked.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Steve," Dustin said.

"You want to know, don't you?" Robin asked.

"Yeah. . .yeah, I guess," Steve said softly. "I guess it's the feeling that I don't know what to expect here that's overwhelming me. I'm trying not to get my hopes up for really good parents."

"That makes sense," Robin said softly. "I'm sure it'll work out."

"I can't believe Eddie's allowing you to sit in his chair," Mike said. "No one sits there except for him."

"It's cause he's pretty," Eddie said without looking up, and Steve giggled. "Hey, I found it! Steve, get your gorgeous ass in the circle and take off your shirt. Oh, you also need a blank piece of paper."

"Does it really need me to take off my shirt?" Steve asked.

"Yes it does," Eddie said seriously.

Dustin looked over his shoulder, frowned, and opened his mouth to say something. Eddie quickly put his arm around him and pulled his face to his chest, cooing at him. Steve looked doubtfully at him for a moment before getting up off the chair and pulling off his shirt. Dustin shoved Eddie away, scowling at him. Eddie grinned at Steve as he moved back into the circle with a sheet of paper. Eddie relit the candles and got the others to stand around Steve.

"Am I good?" Steve asked.

"Hold on, you need to be a little bit more even," Eddie frowned.

He placed his hands on Steve’s hips and moved him slightly.

"I think you're just finding any excuse to touch me," Steve smirked.

"Who? Me?" Eddie asked innocently.

"If I look in the book, it's not going to say I need to be shirtless, is it?" He asked.

Eddie smirked and moved his hands to Steve’s stomach. He dragged his fingertips up, moving softly over his skin. Steve shuddered. He rested his hands on his pecs for a moment before moving them to his shoulders.

"On your knees, big boy," Eddie said as he pushed him to his knees.

"I just want to remind you that there are children in the room, and one of them is me!" Robin yelled and Eddie jumped.

"What were we doing?" He asked as he blinked a lot.

"Oh my God! Finding Steve’s parents!" Dustin shrieked. "Have your way with our babysitter later!"

"You act like it's my fault!" Eddie exclaimed. "Tell Steve to stop being so pretty!"

"Steve! Stop it!"

"I can't help it! It just naturally happens," Steve smirked.

"Well, since you're not human, I guess you could say it's SUPERnatural," Robin said.

Robin and Steve giggled before high fiving each other. Dustin sighed.

"Steve, do you want to find your parents or not?" Dustin asked.

"Not if you're going to have that attitude," Steve scowled.

"It's his tone, right?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, let's get this done before our kid has a conniption," Steve said.

"He's really eager to meet his grandparents," Eddie cackled.

"Oh, now, you're in on the joke?" Dustin asked as Mike and Lucas laughed.

"Yeah," Steve and Eddie said.

Eddie opened the book and began to chant. The lights flickered, and the flames from the candles shot up in the air. Wind whipped around the room as Eddie continued to say the spell. Steve twitched and then shook before falling backward. He started shrieking in pain as the paper fell from his hands.

"Eddie! Stop! Stop! STOP! SOMETHING'S WRONG!" Lucas yelled.

Eddie stopped the chant, and as soon as he did, Steve stopped screaming.

"My back, my back. . .something's on my back," Steve said.

Eddie shut the book and rushed so quickly to get to him that he ended up sliding across the floor on his knees. He turned Steve over to find a painful looking rune flaring up in the middle of his back.

"What the fuck is that?" Mike asked.

Eddie opened the book and began flipping through the pages, cursing as he did so. Meanwhile, he had Steve’s head in his lap, blinking up at him.

"Okay, it says here that it's some sort of rune of protection. . . Against fae. . .you know, fairies. . .a witch placed it on you," Eddie said. "Well, that's fucked. . . No wonder your parents couldn't find you. . .well, let's see if we can't get this fucker off of you. . . Shit, I hope I can do this. . .it says I need to be related to the witch who placed the rune on you."

Eddie took one hand off the book and began stroking Steve’s hair. He muttered something, and the page turned. He did that quite a few times as he read.

"Eddie, what did you say to the book?" Mike asked.

"Oh, I said,"Turn the page." I guess I was speaking in Latin again," Eddie said.

"That's so cool," Dustin muttered.

"Okay. . .getting this rune off is going to hurt a lot. . .do you want to do this?" Eddie asked Steve.

"I'm used to a little pain. Bring it," Steve said.

"Okay, sit up," Eddie said and pulled a knife out of his pocket.

Steve sat up, putting himself on his knees again. Eddie sat behind him and muttered something else. The spellbook floated in front of him, and he opened the knife. Eddie sighed and hesitated before placing a kiss on Steve’s shoulders blade.

"Is that part of the spell?" Steve asked.

"No, it's just going to fucking hurt a lot. It's basically me cutting it out. . .so, yeah. . .sorry, so, so, so sorry," Eddie said.

He muttered another spell as he looked at the book and held the knife over a flame, letting it get hot. He chanted for a moment, and the flames flared up around the blade. Eddie hovered the blade above the rune and started to say the spell as he moved the knife as though he was actually cutting it off. Steve let out an inhuman shriek, his yells bouncing off the walls. The wind picked up, the flames grew higher, and the lights above them exploded as Eddie continued to chant. Tears rolled down Steve’s cheek as he threw his head back. Finally, Eddie stopped, and Steve collapsed in relief.

"Shit, that did hurt," Steve said, and he paused when he didn't get a response. "Eddie?"

Steve turned around and found Eddie still sitting on his knees. Blood was pouring out of his nose. He swayed and fell backward. Steve moved over to him and cradled him in his arms.

"Eddie?" He asked.

"There was a suggestion in the book to not overdo it. I was just like. . .fuck it, I can do it. I'm fine, I'm fine. . .I just need someone's lips on mine," Eddie said and closed his eyes, puckering his lips.

"Alright, I'll just go find Principal Higgins, shall I?" Dustin asked, peering over Steve’s shoulder.

"I'm up, I'm up!" Eddie sat up quickly. "Oh, too fast! Sleepy. . ."

He pressed his cheek against Steve’s chest and closed his eyes again. His snores filled the room.

"I guess we'll take him back to my place," Steve said and picked him up.

Robin pulled out a tissue and wiped Eddie's nose.

"Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Your tits are still out, you slut."

"Right. Thanks, Robin."

When Eddie woke up, he found himself in a very ugly room. Plaid walls, plaid curtains, plaid sheets. . .Eddie screamed. He screamed louder at the single car poster hanging on the wall. . .it was all so sad. Steve burst into the room, wielding a bat with nails.

"Steve, where the hell am I?" Eddie asked.

"My house and my room," Steve said.

"Oh my God, this is your room? This is hell, Steve," Eddie said in horror.

"Well, my parents like everything neat," Steve said.

"You mean, your kidnappers," Eddie corrected.

"Right," Steve frowned. "Come on, let's get something in you."

"Hell yeah!" Eddie exclaimed and started unbuttoning his pants.

"What are you doing? I was talking about food. There's pizza downstairs," Steve said.

"Yeah, that's what I was talking about," Eddie said quickly. "I was just unbuttoning them to make room for the pizza."

"Right," Steve smirked. "As much as I would love to do that with you, some secrets should remain secret. I do not want the kids to know that I'm a screamer. Let's go, sweet cheeks."

Steve slapped his ass and Eddie cursed.

"I hate you!"

"No, you don't!"

Dustin immediately threw his arms around Eddie the minute he walked into the kitchen. Steve smiled softly at the sight of them and ruffled his hair.

"You scared the shit out of us, man," Dustin said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Just needed some rest," Eddie grinned. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. Are you going to do the location spell again?" Mike asked.

"He just woke up, Mike. Let's get some food in him first," Steve sighed.

"After I eat," Eddie said, snapping his fingers at him.

Sitting down to eat, Eddie spent the majority of the meal laughing with the kids and playing with what he thought was Steve’s leg under the table. It had been Robin's.

"You could have told me!" Eddie hissed.

"Then it wouldn't have been funny," Robin replied.

They gathered in the living room and pushed the furniture out of the way to create the circle. Eddie knelt in front of Steve this time, the book floating beside them, and the piece of paper on the floor.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Steve said.

"I kind of do. . .I judged you harshly before. . .because you're a jock and because of the assholes who's bothered us in the past. I used to think that since you had a big house and a fancy car that you had it easy. I used to mock you mercilessly in Hellfire, and that wasn't right of me to do that," Eddie said. "Not all jocks are bad."

"Well, no one is perfect," Steve said. "This is a lot even for all of that. Thank you, you're a good man."

"I mean, so are you," Eddie said, blushing. "I'm still an asshole though."

"Yeah, that's true," Steve said with a grin.

Steve cupped the back of his neck and pulled him for a kiss. It was short and sweet. When Steve pulled away, Eddie let out a soft giggle.

"I am loving this," Dustin grinned and then frowned. "But also, gross."

"Yeah, kids never like it when their parents kiss," Robin said, and Dustin sighed loudly.

Grinning, Eddie performed the spells without any problems. Words appeared on the paper. One of them was an address in Indianapolis, and one of them was a plot number for the cemetery in Hawkins.

"Well, shit, I guess one of my parents is dead," Steve frowned.

"Sorry, Steve," Dustin said quietly.

"We don't have to do it tonight, but we can check out the cemetery whenever you want to," Robin said.

"I'm curious now, and at least, I'll get one answer tonight," Steve said. "Although, going at night seems like a bad idea."

"Don't be a chicken shit, Steve, let's do it," Dustin grinned.

So, now, here they were. . .at night. . .in a fucking graveyard. They had flashlights, and Steve made sure to bring his trusty bat. Meanwhile, Robin made sure to bring a thermos full of hot cocoa that she was currently sharing with the boys in front of them. Eddie was walking beside Steve, swinging his arms and letting his hand brush up against Steve’s.

"So, was that kiss just a one-time thing, or are you planning on doing it again?" Eddie asked.

"I definitely want to do it again. . . Would that be okay?" Steve asked.

"Definitely," Eddie grinned and then paused. "You said back in the drama room that you'd always be in love with Nancy Wheeler."

"Well, yeah, a part of me, anyways. There's just so much history there, and she's just so. . . Nancy. She's beautiful, and she cares so much about people. She's willing to put it all on the line for her friends and for her family. She's the bravest person that I have ever met. I don't regret falling in love with her. . . But I regret that I didn't get to know her best friend and I wish I could have been there for her when she needed me the most. I know what happened to Barb wasn't our fault, but I still can't help feeling guilty. I think there's always going to be that connection between us," Steve said.

"I know that Barb died, and she was Wheeler's best friend, but isn't it that Brenner's guys fault? The one Dustin told me about?" Eddie asked. "Why would you feel guilty?"

"Well, it was the first time that Nancy and I had sex together. While that was going on in my house, Barb was being dragged into the Upside Down and . . . Well, you know. . ." Steve said.

"Holy fucking shit. . .yeah, I could see how that could mess you both up," Eddie said.

"Yeah. . .it's pathetic, I know. . ." Steve said.

"No, man, it's not. You're not pining after her, you love her, and you accept the fact that you're not going to be together. I can see why either of you would want to hold onto the good parts of your relationship. You all have been through so much shit and if you guys can come through it all while still having love in your hearts. . . It's amazing," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve smiled and paused. "Have you ever been in love?"

"I've come close. I think at the time, we both had stars in our eyes, and all we saw when we looked at each other were plane tickets out of town. In the end, I couldn't leave town, but she could have, and after everything she did for me, I couldn't go with her. I wish I had done it better, but yeah, I pushed her away so she wouldn't come back," Eddie said.

"Damn, you white fanged her?" Steve asked.

"I mean, I guess you could call it that," Eddie said. "You know White Fang?"

"Yeah, it's not my favorite," he said and paused. "I wish things had gone better with. . ."

"Paige," Eddie said.

"Paige," Steve said.

"I wish things had gone better with Nancy," Eddie replied.

"Yeah," he said softly.

"You like women, too?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "It took me a while to realize that I liked men at all or that I was even flirting with them. According to my best friend, Ronnie, it's not exactly very straight of me to go on rants about jocks' sweaty muscles."

"Was I in one of those rants?" Steve asked as he stopped and turned to Eddie.

He pulled Eddie into his arms, wrapping his arms around his waist.

"You were very prominent," Eddie said bashfully.

"Maybe you didn't hate me at all," Steve said, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe you just had a type."

Eddie kissed him, and Steve smiled against his lips. Eddie wrapped his arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth.

"REALLY ROMANTIC, STEVE, MAKING OUT IN A GRAVEYARD!" Dustin yelled. "YOU'RE KISSING OVER DEAD PEOPLE!"

Eddie growled as he broke the kiss and Steve bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"NO ONE IS SUPPOSE TO KNOW WE'RE HERE BUT IF YOU KEEP YELLING LIKE THAT THEY'RE GOING TO. . .BUTTHEAD!" Eddie yelled back at him.

"FOUND IT!" Lucas yelled.

"I don't think they understand the word subtle," Steve sighed. "Although, neither do you, so they're definitely yours."

"Were there doubts?" Eddie asked with a dramatic gasp.

Steve smiled softly at him, grabbed his hand, and laced their fingers together before pulling him in the direction of the kids. When they got to them, Robin and the kids were whispering together.

"There's no fucking way!" Mike exclaimed. "He never had kids!"

"That you know of. I imagine that it was probably painful to talk about your son getting kidnapped and being unable to find him in your own hometown," Dustin said.

"What? What is it?" Steve asked.

"Are we even sure it's the right plot?" Mike asked.

"Yes!" Dustin and Lucas exclaimed.

Steve moved towards the gravestone and shined his flashlight on it.

BOB NEWBY

SUPERHERO

Part Three

[thebestsetter]

The emperor's bad luck

An: This is actually my first fic! Also, english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any spelling mistakes! I just read Kaiser's backstory and got really sad. HE'S JUST A BABY 😭😭

Michael Kaiser has never been a lucky guy. And I'm not talking about that kind of luck of finding a penny on the floor or getting a question right even though you don't know the answer. I'm talking about a luck that is harder to be found nowadays: the luck to be born with a great family, with loving parents and awesome siblings. The kind of family that you see on magazine covers or billboards, smiling and having fun together, looking like they've never had a bad time.

His mother left him when he was just a baby. A Hollywood actress who has probably already acted as a mother in a movie, although not in real life with her own son: ironic, isn't it? She looked like an angel, with pretty blond hair and beautiful blue eyes, but her looks didn't reflect her personality: a cunning and clever woman.

So, she came up with a plan to make her fame grow: she laid down with a movie director. After she became more famous, she left the man all alone. Well, maybe not ALL alone. She left him with their son: Michael Kaiser. But the man didn't appreciate it and often abused Kaiser. For every mistake Michael made, he hit and tortured the poor boy. When Kaiser was barely 8, his father started sending him to the streets to steal food and other things, since the man couldn't really work because he began drinking (he also didn't want to work, and sending his kid to steal things was a lot easier).

- Now go, Kaiser! - the man said while waving a broken beer bottle in the air - and don't come back without that milk you forgot last time, or else I won't be as gentle with your punishment.

Michael grabbed the backpack his father handed him and ran out of his "home", not wanting to spend another second with that man.

"They found out I stole from that shop" Kaiser thought while looking at the shop he stole from the last time he went on his 'robbery spree' "so I have to find another one".

He then began walking across the neighbourhood trying to find somewhere to steal from. The blond boy came across a new shop he had never seen before: it was a small shop with red colored walls. The german child decided that was the one he was going to rob. Passing his small hands through the shelves full of things he couldn't even think of buying, Kaiser shoved the important things down his bag, such as eggs, butter and other things. He then came across the dairy session. Reaching for the milk, Michael quickly grabbed it and hid it into his bag, wanting to get out of there before he got caught, when suddenly he heard a gasp coming from behind him.

- Are you stealing milk? - a (h/c)nette girl said, startling Kaiser and causing him to drop the bag from his hands, making all the items of his backpack spread across the floor. Scared, he began to pick his things and stuff them back on the bag - hey, what are you doing? COME BACK HERE!

The girl began to chase him around the store while begging him to stop running. After some time, she finally caught up with him.

- I-I'm sorry - he said, panting - p-please don't turn me in! I need to steal to s-survive. My father doesn't work and my mother left me with him. I'm sorry, but I need this things!

- Don't worry, I won't report you! - she said, smiling - my father is the owner of the shop. I can give you some cookies and snacks to go and won't turn you in, but with one condition: you need to answer the question I wanted to ask you when I saw you stealing the milk.

- O-okay - he said in a calmer tone - what is it?

- Do you wanna be my friend? - she asked, her toothy grin appearing and almost blinding Kaiser because of how big and bright it was

- W-what? - he asked, making the girl repeat herself - sure, I guess…

- GREAT! You're my friend now! Come on, I'm gonna give you something to eat.

The girl gave Michael some snacks (without her father seeing them, of course) from that shelves that had things he thought he'd never get to eat and went to the door of the store to say goodbye to him.

- Bye hm… - she began, then gasped - You're my friend, but I don't know your name!

- I'm Michael Kaiser - he said, clearly a lot more confident around the girl, but still a little weary

- I'm (Name) (Last name) - she smiled, glad that she made a new friend - bye, Michael! Come here tomorrow again so we can play!

- (NAME)! COME HELP ME OUT IN THE SHOP! - they heard her father yell

- COMING - the girl shouted and waved goodbye to Kaiser for the last time before disappearing inside her family's shop.

Althought Kaiser was a guy that didn't have a great luck, he considered himself lucky for finding her: his first friend ever since he was born. And for the first time in a few years, Kaiser went to sleep with a full stomach and a happy mind, with a new found hope in his soul: a hope for a better future, with friends like (Name) (or maybe even her, if his luck suddenly decided to change) at his side.

[soapymansuds]

Eternity and Counting

Pt.3

(Pt1, Pt2)

(I am SOOOOOO sorry I didn't post on Tuesday. Full honestly, I forgot. But today's chapter is a touch longer than usual as an apology. And by just a touch, I mean almost double the length of both previous chapters<3)

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad.

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.Keep reading

~/\~

Since that day, my life, or afterlife I suppose, has been relatively simple. When I'm not resting in the garden, I'm running small errands for Michael. It's easy enough to avoid recognition here, but for the sake of my peace of mind, I wear a cloaking spell whenever I'm out. Simeon agreed not to tell anybody about my presence, and in exchange, he asked that I let him join me on my errands, even if he doesn't recognize me. He claims I could have any face in all three realms, and my presence would still bring him comfort. Sometimes he brings me updates on how the others are doing. Usually, he talks about Luke and his growth. He often avoids talking about the Devildom, and whether that's because he doesn't want to upset me or because he simply can't face them knowing what he knows, I've yet to figure out. It's a nice thought, him trying not to remind me of the best part of my life. But it's not overly helpful, given that, even if physical representations of our bonds weren't burned into my skin, everything I do reminds me of them anyway. I know it's selfish of me to make him keep my secret. But to be fair, I decided nearly a year ago that I am an inherently selfish creature, and I've come to terms with it.

Now that I'm on my own, things are easier. Nobody relies on me for much more than fetching papers or goods, and any failures that occur are mine to handle alone. It's simple. It's lonely. But it's simple. And it's good.

I suppose all good things must come to an end though. As I follow my long-since memorized path through the Celestial Palace, I can't help but wonder why I've been summoned. Usually, if Michael has a task for me, he simply brings it to me. But today he asked I meet him in the throne room, so here I am.

I'm greeted as soon as I swing open the door. "MC! Thank you for coming so quickly."

I'm nearly caught off guard by the use of my real name in public. For the sake of secrecy, Michael and Simeon have taken to calling me a fake name for the duration of my stay here.

"How can I help?" I nod as I close the door behind me. I take notice of Simeon's presence and he looks nervous. Never a good sign.

"I have some paperwork I need run to the Devildom. Usually I'd send Simeon, but I need him for another task today and this is rather urgent." Michael grins at me, likely in an attempt to sweeten the plan he's certain I would protest if given the chance.

I'm nearly nauseous at the idea of it. "You're joking, right? I mean this so genuinely, have you lost it?"

There's a flash of amusement on his face before he responds, "I would never make light of your trauma, no I am not joking. You have your cloaking spell, and all you need to do is hand the papers over to Barbatos. Maybe if he's busy, you'll have to hand them to Lord Diavolo himself. But then you can just come straight back. Simple and easy."

I stare at him, dead eyed and confused. "Yeah, seems super simple." I groan, sarcasm laced in every letter. "There's no getting out of this, is there?" I glance desperately at Simeon who seems to have loosened some of the tension in his spine at my pseudo acceptance of the whole ordeal. He shakes his head.

"Fine." I sigh. "Open'r up." with a lazy wave of my arm.

Michael nods, same fatherly grin plastered on his face as always. I'm sure he's convinced he's won some sort of mental battle, and maybe he has. Either way, he summons the portal, and I steal my nerves to step through. "I'm getting two days off when I get back." I call, lunging through the portal.

On the other side, I take a quick moment to make sure my cloaking spell hasn't warn off before looking around. I'm right where I had assumed I'd be. The courtyard's grand arches and elegant gazebo bring a chilly feeling of recognition to the back of my mind. How many gallas and celebrations had I spent out here, in search of some form of peace from the hustle and bustle? How many times had I stumbled upon Levi, or him upon me, in search of the same thing? I think for a moment that I wouldn't mind him stumbling upon me now.

I shake the thought from my mind as quickly as it occurs. Just deliver the paperwork.

I begin the path to the castle without a thought. The trail ingrained into my very psyche. I almost laugh at the thought. I abandoned this place, yet it never left me. What is it Djo said about men and cities?

I never allowed myself to dwell on it from the comfort of Michael's garden, but God did I miss the sky here. Something about the ever present swirling of purples and blues splashed across the stars is purely... divine. Not to say that the Celestial realm wasn't stunning. But there was always this sense of perfectionism, even in the natural landscape. It never felt right to me. Not like this at least. This has always been chaotic, but in the way a toddler helping in the kitchen is chaotic. Sure, shit's a mess and you're near certain it's going to end poorly, but if you take just a moment to watch it unfold, there's beauty in it.

I wish I could have been reborn as a demon.

No. No I don't. Living out the rest of my days, infinite as they may be, facing them with my own selfishness. I'm sure it would kill me a second time.

I'm utterly lost in thought and the view of the sky as I follow the path. So much so, I nearly miss the tail swishing on the ground in front of me. Luckily for me, it bats my ankle gently before I manage to step on it. Double luck, the contact doesn't wake it's sleeping owner.

Belphegor snores softly in the grass next to the path, curled up with his back to me. Something in me instinctively wants to curl up with him, but I know I can't. So instead, I sit. Divine garb be damned, I'm sitting on the dirt, watching him sleep. I consider making a run for it, but the subtle pull he's always had keeps me calm and still. Even in his sleep, even with our pact burned away, his presence still lulls me like a child.

I shake my head as if I were actually dozing off. Was I? Regardless, I stand up, settling to move him out of the trail, just a little. For the sake of the hazard he poses to himself and others. He's as warm as I remember as I press him further into the grass, tucking his tail over his leg before quickly stepping away and back to my task.

A warm feeling I can just barely remember washes over me and stops me in my tracks. How could I, after over a year away, fall so quickly back into routine. Not only how could I, but how dare I? I made my decision, and I've got no right to just wander in here and return to my position, doting and fawning over them. I truly am a selfish creature.

I tried to explain it to them, time and time again. But they simply refused to believe me. I cared so much, not because of them, but because I needed to. I needed to care for them to feel useful. Asmodeus once told me that I was a "pleasure sub". I told him I was willing to rip my own heart out to please him, but mostly because i never much cared for it anyway.

(As always, thank you soooo much for reading. If you'd like to be tagged in future uploads, please comment to be added to the list!)

-Your Friend, The Author

*tags*

@spffldlbrnf

[another-lost-mc]

(Fallen) Angels Round Table Discussion: Fashion

Featuring: A mixed bag of canon and OC angels and some of their fallen brethren.

"So, honest question - who comes up with these outfit designs?"

GABRIEL: Most angels meet with someone from the tailoring guild and they can request what sorts of clothing they'd like.

SERAPHIEL: Clothing is also a popular gift for angels that pass their ascension trials.

"Does hierarchy or rank have anything to do with the types of clothes angels are allowed to wear?"

SIMEON: Not really. It mostly boils down to preference. Certain styles are more practical than others too. For example, most of the warriors choose not to wear robes on a daily basis. I only wear mine for very special occasions.

METATRON: Michael and Lucifer couldn't be more different style-wise and they were both Seraphs.

MICHAEL: I designed a new outfit for Lucifer that was a little bit more...relaxed...but he wouldn't wear it. Asmodeus even helped with it.

LUCIFER: That’s exactly why I refused. You show enough skin for both of us.

"Now that you mention it, is there a practical reason for designing tight clothes with, um, decorative cut-outs?"

RAPHAEL: It helps us stay cool and prevent heat sickness during our hottest season.

HABUHIAH: Loose clothing isn't comfortable to wear underneath armor.

RAPHAEL: I don't think that's much of a concern anymore.

HABUHIAH: You have more faith than I do when it comes to certain demons.

BELIAL: Are you still upset about our little scuffle in the human world? It's been nearly five-thousand years.

URIEL: You mean the pointless war that you started?

BELIAL: It was actually very profitable.

URIEL: You're the worst.

GABRIEL: Shh, darling. Just pretend he's not here.

BELIAL: That's not very nice, Gabe. You haven't missed me even a teeny-tiny bit?

HABUHIAH: You can't be serious.

METATRON: If we have time later, I'd love to talk to you about your involvement in that skirmish. The official records we have aren't very detailed.

BELIAL: Say no more! I'd be delighted to stay as long as necessary and—

GABRIEL: Absolutely not.

"So, back to the whole why angelic clothing is so revealing thing...?”

SERAPHIEL: Right. Well, from a utility point of view, form-fitted clothes usually work best because you still want to be able to move your body freely without any restrictions. Wearing something flimsy like a cloak is a potential disaster too, at least if you're in a fight.

RAPHAEL: Michael learned that the hard way.

URIEL: The younglings were in the garden and got a firsthand demonstration about combat safety so at least something good came from it.

MICHAEL: You set your cloak on fire by accident one time and your friends never let you forget it.

RAPHAEL: That was an accident? I thought you did it on purpose to get out of training that day.

SIMEON: The point is, a lot of those considerations aren't as important as they used to be. Now we simply wear what we like.

AZRA: Are we going to gloss over the other very important reason? That some of us just wanted to look good?

LUCIFER: Riveting input from our resident incubus.

HABUHIAH: What's that gesture Azazel is making with his hand?

SERAPHIEL: I'm not sure, but judging by Lucifer's expression it's probably not nice.

MICHAEL: Their demonic forms are much more impressive than the photos I've seen on Devilgram.

RAPHAEL: Should we try to stop them?

SIMEON: It's more entertaining if we don't.

METATRON: But I don't want anyone to get hurt.

URIEL: Wait, why is Belial fighting now too?

SERAPHIEL: He's upset that his suit got scorched when one of their wayward spells hit him by accident.

GABRIEL: I hope you're pleased with yourself since this was all your idea, Michael. But I have to admit, I expected much worse.

MICHAEL: See, I told you not to worry. It's just like old times!

A/N: Here's something silly that helped distract me from real life stuff that's kept me busy lately. This vaguely incorporates some Celestial Realm headcanons/worldbuilding, and to be honest, I just wanted to throw these characters into a room and see what happened. (Chaos. Chaos happened.)

[longtallglasses]

some miwi headcanons just bc ! older ones

i see young mike as kind of loud and not realizing how loud (and annoying) his yelling near people is (ie karen yelling in s1 “mike let’s go!” “COMING!!!”) however he quickly learns not to yell around will, adopting his softer voice for him BUT

in school he’s constantly calling over to will “will come here” “will sit next to me” “will! over here! look at this!” trying to get his attention “will, will, hey will…” other kids are like dude shut up… so many kids know will’s name who’ve never seen him, and mike’s thought of as that kid who’s always calling out for his friend.

i’m an avid rock collector!mike enjoyer. on the playground, in the forest, at the park, at the lake. he’s picking up all the cool ones, storing them away for very important scientific reasons like “this one’s shiny in A Different way!” he sets aside his favorites to show and give to will, very much in the style of a cat bringing a dead rodent to their owner, like “got something special just for you :) a Very Cool Rock :)” will loves how much mike enjoys it and is very excited to receive them, feeling quite special.

will loves stuffed animals (i mean we been knew) when he was younger they all had names and backstories, interpersonal drama and storylines he played out. two stuffed cats he definitely thought of as him and mike subconsciously, as they were best friends. he would act out little dramatic scenes of them running away from some oppressive kingdom, going on an adventure and meeting new friends along the way. … and he may have made them kiss a few times …

obviously small will loved drawing, but i don’t think he was always confident in his skill. after people tell him he’s good he gets caught up in trying to be really good, and gets frustrated when he can’t do something the way he wants. hence crumpled up attempts in the trash mike fishes out. there’s a spell of time where he gives up for a bit and jonathan asks why he hasn’t seen him drawing lately, and will says he doesn’t think he can get any better, it’s too hard. jonathan tells him it doesn’t matter if it’s perfect, he should just draw to make himself happy “draw for the campaigns, your friends think it’s so cool” so will keeps at it focusing on drawing what he thinks him and his friends will appreciate

while watching scary movies in the basement mike and will always held hands under blankets. it started when they were younger and they first got permission to watch a scary movie, they didn’t want to admit they might be getting too scared. during a big jump their hands reached out on instinct and too caught up in the movie they didn’t let go. when it was over they didn’t talk about it, but then it just kept happening every time they got scared. which led to holding hands when upset outside of watching movies. they never really discussed it, it just felt like their little secret thing.

all the boys were nice to holly but will was the only friend who actually liked seeking her out to play w them. (fascinated by a little sister unlike lucas and only-child dustin) mike and will would play games with her sometimes, will thinking she was really cute, and mike thinking it was cute will really liked her. cue karen thinking will is the best influence on her son

i have such a strong image of kindergarten miwi right after they become friends making mud pies together every recess. their teacher scolds them the first few times having to scrub their hands when they come back in. it gets so bad when the recess monitor sees them heading for the dirt they’re yelling “Michael! William! don’t even think about it!” they think it’s so funny to rile them up, they start spreading mud on each others arms “will you need more than that!” they only try to eat it a few times, it does taste really gross. after they’re banned from the dirt, they move to the sand box, it’s only a bit cleaner.

[yanderes-galore]

Hello can I request a yandere concept between ennard (hope I spelled it right) with a reader who finds out the truth about them that they aren’t actually Micheal? It can be platonic or romantic I’m not good picking ( I hope you have a nice day btw!)

Sure! So sorry for the long wait, I hope it was worth it :(

Read this as a supplementary concept to this one

Yandere! Ennard with Darling realizing they aren't Michael

Supplementary Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Body horror, Disturbing descriptions, Clingy behavior, Isolation, Implied kidnapping, Blood, Vomit, Forced companionship.

Let's be honest, at a certain point you can tell when Michael isn't Michael.

As his friend, you know him.

You've known his trauma and might have even been a childhood friend.

So when he disappears for a few days... and returns acting strange... you originally think maybe he's just sick or upset.

He doesn't seem to remember much about you... and while he looks like Michael for the most part...

It all feels too uncanny.

There's various issues going on that's described in the previous concept.

Multiple personalities, twitching, odd smells, purple skin, glowing eyes, mechanical whirring....

Ennard is unable to replicate Michael completely.

There's always something off.

It doesn't help that Ennard becomes obsessed... often stalking and visiting you in their tattered disguise.

Honestly, it won't take you long before you learn the truth.

You can figure it out yourself.

At first you had just been keeping an eye on Michael to make sure he was okay after his absence.

But now... as you notice the smell and uncanny nature... there's just no hiding it.

Ennard is aware of their time limit.

They just thought they'd have more time.

However, Ennard nearly freezes when you pull them aside.

They see the concern in your eyes, along with the fear when you're met with a glowing gaze.

"Michael... what's wrong?"

Ennard struggles with a response, doing their best to replicate Michael's speech once again.

"Nothing's wrong...?"

"Don't you dare lie to me!"

Ennard pauses at your sudden... assertive tone.

If they could sweat... they would.

"What do you mean?"

"You never went to the hospital to get checked, you don't seem right... and that smell! You smell like a... corpse."

Ennard twitches, making you jump a bit.

Corpse... you poor thing, too smart for your own good.

"... we thought we could enjoy you a little bit longer..."

"Michael" murmurs, looking saddened.

"We? What do you mean 'We'?"

"We aren't Michael... but we wish we were so we could stay."

Mechanical whirring echoes in the room as you notice Michael's purple skin tear.

You back up, nausea setting in as the smell gets worse.

Sickening snaps and rips echo in the room... blood pooling down and staining the... thing.

The sight makes you lurch over and vomit, the stress and smell squeezing your stomach in an uncomfortable vice.

Like some sort of stomach churning alien... Ennard emerges from the skin of your friend.

You nearly lose your stomach again as the mechanical beast stumbles forward... an amalgamated circus clown of robotic parts.

"We don't want to say goodbye..."

The robot murmurs sadly, stepping forward as you scramble to stay back.

"Maybe we don't have to...! Maybe you can stay...."

You go to try and leave, only for the mangle of parts to pounce.

Wires dig into your skin like claws... situating you in place like a trap.

Ennard's many mechanical eyes stare down at you.

They take in your scared expression and giggle.

"You're our friend now... we're so much better than Michael."

The robot coos towards you, grip tight and unrelenting.

"We'll be your friend forever... you just have to come with us."

You struggle the best you can, but the wires dig too deep.

"Your fear is funny... but don't be scared...."

You're walked towards the backdoor of your home, the robot giggling.

"We'll take you away... so It's just us and you! If you fight us..."

The robot hisses... turning you so you stare at their bloody face plates.

"We have other ways of keeping you with us forever..."

Your mind flashes to thoughts of Michael... and you learn it's better if you cooperate.

[pjo-tvs-version]

I wrote another Percabeth fanfic! After seeing that you all actually liked the first fanfic, I decided to write another one. This one is about Annabeth's POV of the scene in The Last Olympian where she gets stabbed by a poison dagger. Title is from Willow by yet again Taylor Swift (it's one of my favorite songs). Happy reading!!

Life Was A Willow and it Bent Right To Your Wind

"Percy!" I yelled. "You've already routed them. Pull back! We're overextended!" Percy was being too heroic at the moment. Just one look at my surroundings told me that we had to retreat. I saw the crowd at the base of the bridge. The retreating monsters were running straight toward their reinforcements. It was a small group, maybe thirty or forty demigods in battle armour, mounted on skeletal horses. One of them held a purple banner with the black scythe design. The lead horseman trotted forward. He took off his helm, and I recognized Kronos himself, his eyes like molten gold. The Apollo campers and I faltered involuntarily. Luke I thought. No it was Kronos. Luke did not have those cruel, heartless golden eyes, Kronos did.  But I couldn’t help but think about my memories of him- all of which broken in my mind because of everything he did. Focus Annabeth, see the battle around me. The monsters we'd been pursuing reached the Titan's line and were absorbed into the new force. Kronos gazed in our direction. He was a quarter mile away from us. 

"Now," Percy  said, "we pull back." The Titan lord's men drew their swords and charged. The hooves of their skeletal horses thundered against the pavement. Our archers shot a volley, bringing down several of the enemy, but they just kept riding. "Retreat!" Percy told the group of demigods. "I'll hold them.'" In a matter of seconds they were on us. Michael and his archers tried to retreat, but I stayed right beside me, fighting with my knife and mirrored shield as we slowly backed up the bridge. I couldn’t leave Percy alone in a situation like this and after our last experience in the Labyrinth, I never will. Kronos's cavalry swirled around us, slashing and yelling insults. The Titan himself advanced leisurely, like he had all the time in the world. Being the lord of time, I guess he did. I felt tears brimming at the corner of my eyes. Luke had been a brother to me when no one even cared about me. Whatever he did and is doing is beyond wrong but still I cannot make myself believe that we have to kill him soon enough or we are doomed. Ugh why are thoughts distracting me so much today? I try to concentrate on the fight so as to escape my depressing thoughts.

  I felt a stab of pain in my heart as I looked at Luke’s no Kronos’ army. I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren't monsters. They were demigods who'd fallen under Kronos's spell. I couldn't see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had been my friends. I slashed the legs off their horses and made the skeletal mounts disintegrate. After the first few demigods took a spill, the rest figured out they'd better dismount and fight me on foot. 

Percy and I stayed shoulder to shoulder, facing opposite directions. I felt a spark of warmth at the familiarity. Ever since the labyrinth, we weren't the same and I missed the many things we did together. I will never admit it out loud but Percy was the best battle partner I could ask for. I kept on blocking the attacks of a dracaenae when I saw a demigod, a knife in hand ready to plunge. .He wore an eye patch under his war helm: Ethan Nakamura, the son of Nemesis. He was alive only because of Percy’s generosity. I followed his gaze which was difficult considering I was already battling a reptile woman.  The knife was not aimed at me but at Percy. Panic arose in my mind and my thoughts were speeding inside me. I had a few seconds but my mind was running in different directions. Percy is invincible, I chided. But I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease inside me. I had to make a decision now. I had to make a similar choice back in the labyrinth. However I regretted it so I corrected my mistake now. I won’t let Percy get hurt again if I can help it. I take a deep breath and hurl my shield at the dracaenae. After that was done, I hurled myself in front of the knife.

I braced myself for the pain to hit. I had anticipated that it would be pretty bad considering the force with which Ethan plunged it and I just added more momentum by hurling myself in front of it. It was way worse. A scream arose which I couldn't control.I reflexively clutched my shoulder which was now oozing with blood. The blood had seeped through my camp t-shirt. My head felt dizzy and my knees buckled. 

Behind me, Percy shouted "Annabeth!". I couldn’t think thanks to the wound but there is something else too. The pain got more intense with every passing second and I could feel myself shivering. Percy’s face showed every possible emotion he was feeling. Confusion, concern,anger and worry. Percy locked eyes with the enemy demigod. Perhaps he was regretting his decision to set Ethan free. To my astonishment, Percy slammed him in the face with his sword hilt so hard he dented his helm. My vision is getting blurry now. From the pain? From tears? I had no idea.

 "Get back!" Percy slashed the air in a wide arc, driving the rest of the demigods away from me. "No one touches her!" I had a feeling that the pain was making me so delirious that I was hearing things. Did Percy just say “No one touches her” or was it just me hallucinating. I had never seen him so vehement about anything. Through my fuzzy vision I saw Luke (no Kronos)  towering above us on his skeletal horse, his scythe in one hand. “Interesting,” he said. It sounded downright ominous. "Bravely fought, Percy Jackson," he said. "But it's time to surrender . . . or the girl dies." No, I couldn't  let him surrender. Not now after all the training and preparation. After all the sacrifices. I find my voice and manage to croak the words "Percy, don't". It happened so fast, barely in the blink of an eye. "Blackjack!" Percy yelled. As fast as light, the pegasus swooped down and clamped his teeth on the straps of my armour. We soared away over the river, into the sky.

I must have passed out from the pain midair because right now I was covered in blankets, lying down on a lounge chair, on a balcony. Under different circumstances I would've loved the view from the terrace. It looked straight down onto Central Park. The morning was clear and bright—perfect for a picnic or a hike, or pretty much anything except fighting monsters. My thoughts race and my thinking process is still not clear because of the stab wound. My first thought was Percy. Was he okay? Is he alive? Did he die again because of me? My Athena heritage isn't helping much either. The many logical facts and the unfair odds threaten the hope I have about Percy being alive. I hear crying and recognize it at once. Silena Beauregard, daughter of Aphrodite, was sniffling and speaking. I heard her saying “... better come quickly with a healer from the Apollo Cabin. Hurry Percy.” 

So Percy is alive. Thank the gods. At once I am threatened by another thought- Did he surrender. Then a wave of pain washes over me causing me to grimace. My thoughts are scattered and I feel  as though my wound is burning. My forehead breaks into sweat and Silena places a cool cloth on my forehead. She is crying, sobbing and apologising. I try to ask her why she is so miserable but the words stay stuck in my throat. “I’m sorry Annabeth. I’m so sorry.” she sniffles. I am puzzled. Why is apologising? She wasn't even there when I got hurt. “It isn't your fault Silena.” I try to reassure her through my broken voice. “Rest now Annabeth, she said, feeling my forehead.”

It was difficult to abide by Silena’s request. I kept on drifting into unconsciousness and consciousness, unable to ignore the throbbing pain in my shoulder and the burning sensation I felt around the wound. It must have been a while when I heard panicked footsteps approaching towards me. I try to turn my head with all my remaining energy to see Percy running and Will Solace behind him.

He looked aghast whilst looking at me. Was I looking that beat up? “Annabeth-” he choked. He looked so concerned, so guilty that I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Poison on the dagger, Pretty stupid of me. Huh?” I mumbled. Will undid the bandages. He exhaled with relief. "It's not so bad, Annabeth. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar." 

Percy grabbed the canteen of nectar faster than I could have said Seaweed Brain. Will started applying the godly drink on my wound and as if on reflex. I grabbed Percy’s hand, squeezing it. The pain was too much. Will had told me to lie still which was becoming more difficult with every passing second. "Ow," I said. "Ow, ow!". Silena muttered words of encouragement. Will put some silver paste over the wound and hummed words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. I felt better. The pain was relatively less intense and the poison’s burning sensation had been significantly reduced.Then he applied fresh bandages and stood up shakily. The healing must've taken a lot of his energy. He looked almost as pale as me. "That should do it," he said. "But we're going to need some mortal supplies." I realised that I was still gripping Percy’s hand (which had now turned purple because I gripped it a tad too hard) and let go awkwardly.

Will  grabbed a piece of hotel stationery, jotted down some notes, and handed it to Malcolm. "There's a Duane Reade on Fifth. Normally I would never steal—" "I would," Travis volunteered. Will glared at him. "Leave cash or drachmas to pay, whatever you've got, but this is an emergency. I've got a feeling we're going to have a lot more people to treat." Nobody disagreed. There was hardly a single demigod who hadn't already been wounded . . . except Percy. "Come on, guys," Travis Stoll said. "Let's give Annabeth some space. We've got a drugstore to raid . . . I mean, visit." The demigods shuffled back inside. Jake Mason grabbed Percy’s shoulder as he was leaving. "We'll talk later, but it's under control. I'm using Annabeth's shield to keep an eye on things. The enemy withdrew at sunrise; not sure why. We've got a lookout at each bridge and tunnel." "Thanks, man," Percy said. He nodded. "Just take your time." 

He closed the terrace doors behind him, leaving Silena, Percy, and me alone. Silena pressed a cool cloth to Annabeth's forehead. "This is all my fault." "No," I said weakly. Why did she keep blaming herself? "Silena, how is it your fault?" "I've never been any good at camp," she murmured. "Not like you or Percy. If I was a better fighter . . ." Her mouth trembled. Ever since Beckendorf died she'd been getting worse, and every time I looked at her, it made me worried even more about her. Her expression reminded me of glass—like she might break any minute. "You're a great camper," Percy told Silena. "You're the best pegasus rider we have. And you get along with people. Believe me, anyone who can make friends with Clarisse has talent." She stared at Percy like he had just given her an idea. 

 "That's it! We need the Ares cabin. I can talk to Clarisse. I know I can convince her to help us." Silena beamed. "Whoa, Silena. Even if you could get off the island, Clarisse is pretty stubborn. Once she gets angry—" Percy tried to say. "Please," Silena said. "I can take a pegasus. I know I can make it back to camp. Let me try." He exchanged looks with me. I nodded slightly. I didn't like the idea. I didn't think Silena stood a chance of convincing Clarisse to fight. On the other hand, Silena was so distracted right now that she would just get herself hurt in battle. Maybe sending her back to camp would give her something else to focus on. "All right," Percy told her. "I can't think of anybody better to try." Silena threw her arms around Percy. Then she pushed back awkwardly, glancing at me. Well that was weird. "Um, sorry. Thank you, Percy! I won't let you down!" she added.

Once she was gone, Percy knelt next to me and felt my forehead. He had so much concern in his eyes. The expression on his face was endearing. Maybe the poison did something to my head because the next words just sprouted out from my lips. "You're cute when you're worried,". "Your eyebrows get all scrunched together." My thoughts were unclear, but here I am complementing Percy on his looks after being stabbed by a poison dagger. It was true after all. His eyes reminded me of a cute baby seal and his hair was tousled making him look cute. No Annabeth, I chide myself, I am not going to go over my feelings with battle going on. "You are not going to die while I owe you a favour," Percy retorted. 

"Why did you take that knife?" He said nothing about my comment. It hurt a little considering the events of last summer (I’m looking at Racheal here). I sigh, hope doesn't come without a cost (the cost here being my broken heart but lets ignore that, we are at war).  "You would've done the same for me." It was true. I guess we both knew it. I stare at him and he looks at me dead serious, the twinkle in his eyes was lost. I realised then something else more serious must be going on in his mind because he was seldom this serious. 

"How did you know?" he asked, panicking. "Know what?" He looked around to make sure we were alone. Then he leaned in close and whispered: "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would've died." My heart skipped a beat as he leaned. Why do I always feel like this around Percy? Then my ears caught on the words ‘Achilles spot’. So he took a dip in the Styx. That was such a risky and stupid thing to do. But it was exactly the type of thing he will do. He would sacrifice himself for anyone close to him.  Even though I call it stupid, it was indeed a smart move. Maybe I’ll tell him that if (no when there can be no if) we come out alive from the war. He looks at me and suddenly I remember that I should answer his question. "I don't know, Percy.” I admit. “ I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where . . . where is the spot?" 

I didn't expect him to tell me his weakness though. I could be fatal and I would understand if he didn't want to tell me either (though it would hurt on the inside but let's forget about that part.) He should know that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone. "The small of my back." he answers. He told me? He told me his one weakness? His one fatal liability? I was in utter shock. I didn't expect  Seaweed Brain to trust me about something this fatal. But he did and that surprised me.

I guess curiosity is an ingrained trait of the Athenian brain. I wanted to know exactly where. Without thinking, I lifted my hand. "Where? Here?" I asked.  I put my hand on Percy’s spine, and my skin tingles from the warmth of the touch. Why do I keep feeling sparks every time I’m even close to Percy?  Percy moved my fingers to the one spot that grounded him to his mortal life. I shouldn't be feeling like this but  I will confess that I loved the intimacy that this moment carried. "You saved me," Percy said. "Thanks." I could practically hear the gratitude in his voice. It made the pain worth it. I cannot believe that I am saying this but I would have taken another poisoned dagger in a heartbeat for him. As much as I hated it, I removed my hand.  But I kept holding it. I am not going to lie, it made me feel surreal when it shouldn’t.  Small gestures by him send jolts of electricity through me. But I shouldn't feel like this. He saw me only as his friend and battle partner, nothing else. So I just switch to our usual banter.

 "So you owe me," I said weakly. "What else is new?" We watched the sun come up over the city. It felt peaceful and I was content for a moment. I wanted to savour the moment. In battle you appreciate the rare quiet times one gets. But of course my thoughts wonder as I study my surroundings.

The traffic should've been heavy by now, but there were no cars honking, no crowds bustling along the sidewalks. Far away, I could hear a car alarm echo through the streets. A plume of black smoke curled into the sky somewhere over Harlem. I wondered how many ovens had been left on when the Morpheus spell hit; how many people had fallen asleep in the middle of cooking dinner. Pretty soon there would be more fires. it made sad to see such a busy town being reduced to a battlefield by the Titans… and the Gods. Oh gods, Percy must be feeling terrible seeing his town in such a condition.  Everyone in New York was in danger—and all those lives depended on us. 

Did Annabeth sound a little too lovergirl in this? I don't know. Phew, this was a long one so it will probably have a lot of mistakes. As always positive criticism is appreciated. Hope you liked it!

You can read it on AO3 here

[undyinwxnchester]

‘If threes a crowd — Then were stuffed.’

(Male!Reader x Michael!Dean x Dean Winchester).

‘You thought having one of them was bad enough, but when some spell ends up making them split, well. You realise it gets worse.’

(Just straight up NSFW - Little plot).

It was so confusing — having two of them in the same room was terrifying. Given one was of course just normal old Dean but then the other was well, Dean but… Michael?

One evil — the other just a plain old friend. But in the end, both had a liking to you.

And it just ends up in a pickle of things. There both poking and prodding, each-other. At you. To the point you were so overwhelmed you ended up fainting.

But you wake up.. and they end up touchy again. As you sit on your bed, flinching as Michael caresses and rubs at your temple, and Dean is at your other side. Rubbing you arm. Both equally worried, just annoyed at the others presence.

“Your fine, doll. Breathe easy-“ *Michael spoke, but of course given they both have. Little. Care for each-other. And Dean interrupts.

“Look at me Y/N.” It ends up back and forth - they flare at each-other. Both hands on either side of you, possessive and protective. You feel overly loved and overly abused at the same time.

You don’t know who to look at, so you just sort of. Look at both of them and then away, muttering but your just cut off. “Safe and sound.”

They can agree on something it seems, in some way, “Can have you without this dick in my head.”

But now they have to share more so it seems, they don’t like that. A glare between them both once more. Before the smothering starts. And oh. Oh its so much. Yet so- good.

Michaels hand tangles into your soft hair leaning down and pecking at your cheek. Almost trying to pull you toward him. Whilst Dean pulls as-well, gently on your arm. His lips on your neck and jaw. Both just keeping you in the middle in the end.

But there equal love is — in the end both nice but a bit much. You don’t know if you can handle it.

“De- mic- fuck sake both of you let me breathe.” You mumble a little, moving in the bed a little as you attempt to wiggle from their grip. Which works a little. They give you a look, but it of course turns to them making it seem they blame it on each other.

They glare but you end up just, well. Do what you do to calm the other down. Which clearly makes the other jealous for a moment. Your lips first latch onto Dean, which makes Michael seethe. But then they meet his after , Dean slightly contempt. But not so happy after. Not like you have two lips.

And we all know how kisses get. Especially even when it’s just usually two of you. I’m the end their both the same in that aspect — can never just have a normal kiss.

Your lips are shifted as you whine gently, your shirt lifted with one to many hands on you. Michael pecking down your shoulder — massaging down your thigh, Dean at your lips. Gently making out with you as his hand also lingers with Michaels. Running up and down your skin.

You feel like you can’t breathe. It’s all to much but it’s heavenly. As your clothing removes, you’ve got two lips onto you. Both equally muttering how much they.. adore. Love. And need you. As they take turns in kissing your lips.

And.. taking turns seems to have to be more than that. As you all. End up naked. It’s odd seeing double of the same yet something so different.

Your laid against the bed, in the middle of them both. Facing Dean, but with Michaels cock buried in your behind. As you groan and attempt to keep quiet. Eyes fluttering — as Dean soothes you, a gentle rub at your lower abdomen. Gentle kisses to you.

And they do in fact. Take. Turns. As Michael slips away a little, you feel empty. But Dean just slides into you right after, and as much as Michael may not like that.

His hands are still on you aswell. On at your hip as he gently rubs his member between your back. And the other hand around and on your waist.

“..nn... so good for us.” Dean grunts, enjoying the feeling of being inside you while it lasts. In the end it’s just a fight of when one slips out the other just returns back in. Sharing but also clearly holding a grudge with it. “Such a good boy~..” Michael whispers from behind. Gently pressing his lips against your neck. Leaving generous -

Amounts of love bites down your neck and shoulders. Your going to be covered with them from front and back.

Filled. With both of their fluids, covered in their sweat and scent. And in the end.

Hell,

You just hope they never change back.

__________________________

[romione-trope-fest]

Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Fic Title: Hufflepuff Tea (Search)Party

Author Name: CowahBull

Selected Trope: OotP Missing Moment

Brief Summary: Hufflepuffs are great advice-givers. They’re the best argument mediators. Find a Hufflepuff if you need to be told the brutally honest truth. A Hufflepuff will never purposely steer you wrong. Hufflepuffs are also excellent gossip-finders. It’s a well-known fact around Hogwarts that if you ever need to know what’s going on in the school, you find a Hufflepuff. This particular group of Hufflepuffs has their eyes set on the story around a certain pair of Gryffindor Prefects.

Word Count: 2859 Rating: G Trigger Warnings: None

_____________

Attempting to be as inconspicuous as possible, Hannah and Susan exited the Room of Requirements to make their way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Hannah ensured that her prefect badge was securely attached as they passed a small group of third-year Slytherins in the second-floor corridor. She watched them turn onto the staircase leading to the Great Hall.

“Did you see me hit Zacharias with that Stunner?” Susan was chatting happily as they passed the portrait of the bowl of fruit, which hid the entrance to the kitchen. “He didn’t even have a chance to Shield.” Susan gave a triumphant whoop, and Hannah hushed her while giggling herself.

“Ernie got me a couple times tonight,” Hannah admitted as they approached the entrance to the Common Room. “I’m going to need to practice my Shield Charm before the next meeting. Do you want to practice with me after we finish Snape’s Potions essay?”

“I have Flitwik’s essay after I’m finished with Potions,” said Susan, giving the second barrel to the right a hard knock, revealing the entrance to the nearly empty Hufflepuff Common Room. “We’ll have work on it later in the week.”

“Damn,” Hannah said, disappointed. “Yeah, we can do that.”

They found seats around the table in the corner and prepared to begin working on Snape’s Shrinking Solutions assignment; they were joined shortly after by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Ernie Macmillan.

“Guess who I just caught snogging behind that tapestry of the unicorn hunt,” whispered Ernie, relishing in the chance to share the latest gossip.

“Peeves and Sir Cadogen?” Susan teased, trying and failing to keep her focus on the schoolwork in front of her.

“Ginny Weasley and Michael Corner.” Ernie took his seat to Susan’s left and began pulling Snape’s essay from his bag. “Third couple I’ve caught back there this month.”

“People need to find another place to snog,” Hannah said, rolling her eyes. “I found Ancrum and Hurst back there yesterday.”

“Amatures,” scoffed Justin, “everyone knows about that spot. You’re guaranteed to be caught back there. Surprised Filch hasn’t permanently posted himself there overnight.”

Susan shared a mischievous look with Ernie before returning her attention to her parchment; she still needed to add another four inches on the importance of the full moon on ingredient harvesting.

Scratching quills and the rustle of papers filled the room, interrupted only by questions asked of neighbors and the occasional curses on Snape’s name.

“So, when did Weasley and Granger start dating?” mused Ernie as he flicked through the pages of his textbook.

"Wait!” Susan exclaimed, throwing down her quill, suddenly extremely invested in Ernie’s latest news. “I didn’t know they’re actually dating. Have you been withholding information from us?”

“Haven’t you seen them in the last few DA meetings?” continued Ernie. “They never stopped flirting that entire time.”

“I don’t think they even know they’re flirting,” Hannah argued.

“They were joking around a lot between their Stunning Spells,” Justin said disinterestedly. “I don’t think that means they’re dating, though.”

“I think Neville would have mentioned it if Ron and Hermione were together,” Hannah said, not looking up as she opened her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Volume Five. “He shares a dorm with Ron, after all.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” argued Ernie.

“I really don’t think that’s enough evidence to prove that they’re together,” sighed Susan, returning her attention to the book in front of her.

“We can ask Longbottom tomorrow,” suggested Justin. “We have Herbology with Gryffindor in the afternoon. Hannah partners up with him whenever possible.” He gave Hannah a playful wink that she responded to with a rude gesture, her cheeks turning pink. Susan rolled her eyes and picked up her quill and a fresh piece of parchment. She had far too much homework tonight to debate the rumored love life between the two Gryffindor Prefects.

—

Greenhouse Six housed the tropical plants, making it the hottest classroom in the school. Susan and Hannah had already shed their outer robes and had pulled their hair into high buns on top of their heads when Professor Sprout charged the class to break into groups of three to take on the task of repotting Solanum melongena. Hannah was quick to claim Neville Longbottom as her and Susan’s partner.

Tucking into a station, Susan began prepping the new pot while Neville and Hannah set off on the task of calming the plant so it would allow them to uproot it without stinging them in the process. Susan eyed Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse as they began complimenting and stroking the plant sitting in front of them on the other end of the long work bench, with Potter to the left of them prepping a transfer pot.

"Wow, you have such beautiful leaves,” cooed Neville as he stroked the plumage. “Come on, dear, let’s have a look at those roots.” He gently lifted the leaves of their plant and extracted a small handful of dirt. The melongena twitched menacingly at his touch.

“Wonderful job,” Hannah said, reaching in to take a handful of dirt for herself. “So, Neville, we’ve been meaning to ask you about something.” She began to back away as a branch jerked at her.

“Now, now there’s no reason to be like that,” Neville scolded. “Hannah is just trying to help.” He didn’t take his eyes off the flower to which he was tending while addressing the girls, “What do you need to ask me?”

Susan leaned in close to him. “So what’s going on with them?” she gestured her head towards Weasley and Granger across the greenhouse, who were chatting happily with Potter.

Neville furrowed his brow. “Dean and Seamus?” he asked, barely lifting his eyes from the plant. “I’ve been wondering about them too…”

Susan stifled a laugh. “We all have.”

“Come on,” sighed Hannah, pulling a root from the pot. “You know exactly who we’re talking about.”

“Granger and Weasley,” Susan whispered. “When did they start dating?”

“I don’t think Hermione likes him like that,” Neville said, looking at them with mischief in his eyes. “Besides, isn’t Charlie a little old for her anyway?”

“Stop taking the piss, Longbottom,” added Susan, crossing her arms and glaring at Neville.

“Sorry, Susan.” Neville shrugged and returned his attention to the Solanum melongena, dodging to avoid being hit by one of its swinging vines. “I have no intelligence for you.”

–

That evening, Ernie was patrolling the west side of the castle, being sure to check behind every alcove and tapestry he passed. When he turned the corner to the third-floor staircase, he spotted a pair of Ravenclaws. Just who he was hoping to see.

“Michael, wait up,” he called, going up the stairs toward Michael Corner and Terry Boot.

The boys stopped as soon as Ernie reached them. “What’s up?” Michael asked.

“You’re still dating Ginny Weasley, right?”

Michael’s eyebrow cocked. “What’s it matter to you?“

“What’s the deal with her brother and Hermione Granger?”

“It’s not like we spend our time together talking about her brother’s love life.”

“So,” Ernie prodded further, “Ginny hasn’t said anything about their flirting during…” he looked over his shoulder. “–Er practice?”

“I’m not there to watch everyone else’s business,” Michael snapped. “I’m there to learn,” he added in a lowered voice.

“It did seem like Granger did hold his hand for a little longer than necessary when helping him up,” interjected Terry. “That’s hardly worth a fuss.”

“You could ask Lavender or Parvati,” shrugged Michael. “Do you think Hermione would have said anything to them?”

“I doubt it,” moaned Terry, appearing to be almost as interested in the rumors as Ernie. “Hermione doesn’t exactly seem like the ‘braiding each other’s hair and chatting’ type.”

Ernie considered their suggestions. “Hannah asked them before. No luck.” He turned to Michael. “His sister-”

“Yeah, I’ll ask Ginny what she knows.” He looked over Ernie’s shoulder suddenly and hitched his bag up his shoulder as Draco Malfoy and his usual posse came around the corner. “Better get out of here before he starts making trouble,” he added in a low tone.

They turned and walked away from each other before Malfoy could reach them. “No unauthorized meetings are allowed, Macmillan,” he sneered. “Ten points from Hufflepuff.”

Ernie scowled at the Slytherin gang and continued down the stairs. Making rude hand gestures when he was out of sight.

At the entrance to the Great Hall, Ernie found Hannah and Susan skipping toward him from the direction of the library, mischief in their eyes.

“Do you have any idea why Amanda Comstock would be in an empty classroom with Dexter Woodworth after curfew?”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

–

Justin jogged past a group of third-year Ravenclaw students waiting outside the Arithmancy classroom.

“Sally-Anne, wait up!” Just who he wanted to see. As he caught up to her, he leaned to whisper, “What’s this I’m hearing about Comstock and Woodworth?” He matched pace with her as they made their way to double transfiguration.

“What is it that you’re hearing?”

“Something about the Prefects’ bathroom…”

”No, that was Cedric and Cho last year.”

“Oh right,” Justin waved for her to go on. “A classroom?”

“Yes, a classroom.” Sally-Anne nodded. “I heard that Miss Maisy Blackmon was out on patrol when she heard rustling in Binn’s classroom.”

“NO!” Justin’s shout startled a pair of first-year Gryffindors walking past. “Old Binnsey’s room? I wouldn’t consider that the most romantic place.”

“He’s got a thing for troll riots, I guess,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Anyway,” she continued, ”Maisy goes into the room expecting to find Peeves-”

“Were they making that much of a ruckus?”

Sally-Anne only looked at him before continuing. “She goes in and sees the two of them all tangled up against the professor’s desk.”

“Here, I thought she liked girls.”

“She likes hot people,” Sally-Anne shrugged. “Hey, what’s the news on Ron and Hermione?”

“The rumor mill is all over the place.”

“You think Granger is still seeing Victor Krum?”

“She’d be crazy not to.” Justin jumped to tap his hands against a discolored brick above his head. “He is internationally famous, after all.”

“But we have no solid evidence?”

“I’m convinced they’re dating.”

“Granger and Weasley?” He had her full attention now. Justin had to pull her robe sleeve to help her avoid walking right through a passing ghost. “You have evidence to back up that claim?”

“Ron and Hermione have been seen in each other’s company more than Potter’s for the last few weeks.”

“They were doing an awful lot of laughing during dinner yesterday,” Sally-Anne added.

“The flirting really is getting out of hand.”

“That’s couple behavior, if I’ve ever seen it,” said Sally-Anne, shaking her head and smiling. “I wonder when it happened.“

“I’ll let you know when I find out,” sighed Justin as they reached McGonagall’s classroom door. “Troll riots, you say?”

–

Professor Binns droned on in front of them as Ernie spent his time scribbling on a scrap piece of parchment.

Don’t look now. What’s Weasley doing?

Hannah stretched in her seat, stealing a peek behind her. The Gryffindors were seated at the bench a few yards away. Hermione sat scribbling furiously in her notes, giving Binns her undivided attention. Harry was asleep with his face in his hands and his glasses propped on top of his head. Ron had his eyes closed and his head resting–

Oh Merlin! How long has he been resting on her shoulder?

A WHILE!

Does she even notice?

She was looking at him with total heart-eyes earlier.

Ernie drew a stick person with giant hearts for eyes and big curls coming from her head.

Hannah nudged her elbow into Susan’s side, jolting her out of the sleepy trance into which she was slipping. At her confused look, she passed the parchment in front of her and signaled for Justin’s attention as well. They both sat and read the note intently before they both found themselves with sudden cricks in their necks that simply needed to be stretched out immediately.

Susan gasped but covered it up with a cough. Justin stole the paper and his quill.

So they are dating!! We need to figure out when

A head on her shoulder does not equal dating. I do that to Hannah all the time.

Ernie craned his head to read the note sitting between Hannah and Susan. He shot them a look that meant one thing: ‘You’ve got to be kidding me’. Taking the paper, he scrawled.

You didn’t see the heart-eyes. If they’re not dating now, they will by the end of term. I guarantee it!!

He tossed the paper back to the group with a look of pride. The bell rang, rousing everyone in class from their stupor. Ernie watched as Ron jolted up from Hermione’s arm, both blushing and refusing to look at each other.

–

Prefect patrol duties were really cutting into their study schedule. Hannah complained to Ernie about their course load as they aimlessly roamed the halls for the last hour before curfew.

“She’s a sadist,” she cried. “Who assigns a four-foot assignment on Shield Charms without including class practice time?”

“Maybe Harry will be able to go over it with us again on Monday.” Ernie pulled his magic coin from his pocket to confirm the date. “I need to get Justin back for that Stunner he sent to my face.”

“I’m going to ask Hermione if I can look at her notes for Arithmancy. Mine just don’t feel complete enough. And you know how strict Professor Vector can be about thoroughness. I don’t know how I’m going to finish those problems for her by class tomorrow.”

Hannah talked non-stop for three floors while Ernie halfheartedly looked inside every classroom they passed.

“Shh,” he said to Hannah before calling into the long, unused classroom. “It’s almost curfew; you better get back to your Common Room.”

A mop of red hair appeared from behind the teacher’s desk, pulling up a very embarrassed-looking girl.

“Weasley, please,” Ernie started. “I’m much too tired to deal with this tonight.”

“Not a problem at all,, my friend,” laughed Fred (or was it George?) as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two small packages. “How about we part ways here and pretend it never happened?”

He put the bags of Weasley Wizard Wheezes products into Ernie and Hannah’s hands before pulling an apologizing Angelina Johnson down the hall toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

“No detours!” Hannah called after them, but they were already gone.

“That has got to stop happening,” said Hannah as she pocketed her bribe. “I’m going to be able to start my own joke shop with everything hiding in my trunk.”

“We could just report them.” Ernie shrugged. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Continuing their patrol, they peered into classrooms and behind statues periodically but found nothing but cobwebs and dust.

“We should head back to the Common Room,” Hannah yawned. “Double Potions with Slytherin first thing tomorrow.”

Ernie yawned his agreement and opened the door for the second-floor corridor. Before she could get through the door behind him, he froze. At the bottom of the stairs were Ron and Hermione, on their own patrol. Hermione was laughing animatedly at the impression Ron was making of Umbridge, their fingers interlocked.

Hannah shut the door, and the two leaped an arm’s length apart, realizing they were not alone. “Good evening, Ernie. Evening Hannah,“ Hermione said nervously, her cheeks pink. Ron nodded but refused to make eye contact with either of them.

"Hello, Hermione,” Hannah said, her voice a little too polite. “Good evening, Ron.”

“Evening,” Ron said as he and Hermione began ascending the stairs.

Ernie seemed to have found his legs again and continued to descend, passing them in the middle. Hannah followed close behind, her mind buzzing but her face remaining as neutral as possible.

As both parties met on the staircase, Ron cleared his throat and spoke in a low tone. “Er Harry hasn’t sent the notice yet, but -er- it moved to Thursday after dinner.”

“Right,” Ernie said, nodding. “Thanks.” He gave a weak thumbs up before he and Hannah passed through the space the Gryffindor students had created between each other.

The moment they were around the corner and out of earshot, Hannah turned to Ernie, her eyes alight. ‘Oh my god’ they mouthed to each other before hurrying toward the ground floor.

Ernie scratched his knuckle from pounding on the barrel blocking the Hufflepuff Common Room, but he gave it no notice as he and Hannah went running up to the table where Susan and Justin sat, absorbed in their homework.

“Oh my gods, you will never guess who we just saw!”

[bartonbones]

short little ficlet that i want to post before s3 takes this scene away from me: in which sugar finds out she's having a girl, which is the worst thing she can imagine being

"Don't tell Pete," she says. “Right?” 

Carmy stares up at her, unblinking, slightly ashamed, as if it's embarrassing to him that he doesn't immediately understand what she means. It’s like—Mikey would. Or no, it’s like, he really wouldn’t. But he’d know what Carmy meant. And that’s a failure from both of them—this deep, secret understanding between the Berzatto children that sometimes managed to stop just shy of Natalie.

"That you're having a girl?" he says, pressing his eyebrows together. "He doesn't know?"

"It's supposed to be a surprise," Sugar says, flashing all her teeth in an unconvincing mimicry of parental glee. "We're supposed to find out together, when she's born, but I couldn't—"

Carmy waits for her to finish. Doesn't guess her next words, partly because he hates when people do that to him and partly because there's no universe in which he can possibly imagine what they might be. It’s past the point of Sugar being left out of jokes and face-to-face with the cliff of being left out of Sugar’s experience entirely. Mikey wouldn’t get this, either, but, fuck, would anyone? Tina, maybe. Richie, even. Anyone except him, probably. But he wants to try, so he waits, patient, while Sugar looks at the ceiling with red, puffy eyes and opens her mouth without making any sound. 

“I couldn’t stop picturing his face,” she says. “Like, if it was a girl, he’d just—it’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him and he’ll look at me and it’s supposed to be the best thing that’s ever happened to me but I just—fuck!” 

Sugar smashes her palm against the table, surprisingly violent. It startles Carmy enough that he flinches back, a little, and worries him enough that he starts to reach out, to grab her hand, this battle between instinct and fear, old and gruesome, that strikes up whenever someone’s upset. 

She doesn’t take it. Brings her palm flat up to her face instead and scrubs away her tears, angry.

“I’m already so fucking bad at it,” she says. “I’m not supposed to feel like this.” 

“I think however you feel,” Carmy says, quietly. “Is, you know—okay.” 

“Thanks, Carm,” Sugar says, in the tone she gets when he’s said something particularly useless, usually something about money or taxes or anything involving numbers or spelling or high school science. 

She’s quiet for a second. Carmy clears his throat, flexes his hand that’s no longer holding hers. Even quieter, he says: 

“How do you feel?” 

"I wanted a boy," she says, laughing. "Is that fucking awful?"

Sugar laughs more, worse, looks at him and then the ceiling again and then at her hands, worrying at her silicone wedding band, her bracelet, her hangnails. Suddenly she shifts—away from him, enough that he feels it, tilts his head. She doesn’t look back at him and when she speaks, her voice is small and almost shameful. 

“I wanted a boy, and I wanted to name him Michael."

“Oh,” says Carmy. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much when she said it—it wasn’t like it wasn’t on his mind, on the table, like everyone didn’t halfway expect it. They’re Italian. Names had always been dead things, ever since the first sorry motherfucker got martyred and printed up on the inaugural Holy Card. It’s just different when she says it like that. It’s just worse than he thought it would be. 

But Sugar continues. 

“But it’s shitty, Carm. I’m being shitty.” 

“You’re not,” he says, finding it harder and harder to find his voice. “Nat, you’re not.” 

“I am,” she says, voice thick. “I am because—it’s not like—I didn’t want to name a baby Michael for Mikey, I wanted—I just wanted Mom to—and I thought, because I’m just fucking—stupid, I guess, I thought that—maybe Mom would like them more, you know? Maybe it’d give them this chance that I guess I thought—I felt like I didn’t have.” 

They’d never fought about this before. It’s weird that that is the first thought that Carmy has, but it is—they’d never argued, all three of them in a room, who Mom was the worst to. Mikey never said: before you two were born, or, as the oldest son. Carmy never said: when I was alone with her, or after you both left, and she started drinking more. And Sugar never, ever, as long as Carmy could remember, said: she’s never that mean to you. 

But she could have. And they’d all known it, so maybe it was why they didn’t fight about it when they were younger, when the rage and sorrow tumbled down from Mom to Mikey to Nat to Carmy, and they were all fighting about something—they always knew there was nothing to fight about. At least, not one they would win.

“Nat,” Carmy says. “Jesus.” 

“I know,” she says. “It’s so awful.” 

Carmy presses his lips together. Shakes his head. 

“It’s awful that she made you feel that way,” he says. “It’s not awful that you feel it.” 

“I can’t stand it,” she says. “I won’t be able to handle it if Mom looks at her the way she used to look at me.” 

Carmy opens his mouth. False promises threaten to tumble out of it—that Mom wouldn’t look at her like that, that Mom might never have to meet her. Things he doesn’t have any place to say, especially when he knows they’re probably not true. But he does know one thing: has maybe always known it. 

“But it’ll be different, Nat,” he says. “She’ll have someone who loves her—just, so fucking much. And so fucking well. And it won’t matter that Mom’s being fucking crazy, okay? It won’t matter to her. ‘Cause she’ll have you.” 

“You don’t know that,” she says. “I’m sorry, Carmy, but you have no idea—” 

“I do,” Carmy says. 

“Carmen—”

“Natalie,” he says, serious and sharp and accented in the way he only sounds when he’s home, when he’s with Nat and Richie and he’s laughing or screaming or otherwise unfiltered. “Natalie, look at me. I do know.” 

She does. It’s wet and open and her face looks so terribly sad that Carmy feels probably the worst he’s ever fucking felt since the last time she cried like this. His face burns and his eyes sting and he looks at her anyway, through all of the awfulness, just to see his sister as the same person he used to look at five, ten, twenty fucking years ago. 

“I know, okay?” he says. He reaches out, wraps his palms around her forearms and locks eyes with her. “I know, because I had you. I had you and I was so fucking lucky to, and it was enough. I don’t—I don’t reach out to Mom because I don’t need to. She won’t, either.” 

Suddenly she looks so young. Her face swells and breaks, falls into something soft and hopeful and grief-stricken. She was so young, Carmy forgets that, and now thinks about how much everyone babied him and how no one ever babied her, and how she would’ve only been nine when he was born, learning to make bottles and how to do long division in the same week. 

“I never thanked you for that,” he says. “You or Mikey.” 

“For what?” she says, thick. It’s obvious what the answer is, but even more obvious that she needs him to say it, so he does. 

“For raising me,” he says. He nods, licks his lips, sniffs what he is somehow surprised to find are tears. “You’re going to do such a good job, Nat. You already did.” 

“Okay,” she says. She the heels of her hands into her knees, nods her head. “You turned out okay, right?”

She sounds uncertain about this. Carmy has never been good at convincing anyone of that fact except himself, so he just shrugs, watery and helpless. 

“I don’t think anything about me that’s fucked up is your fault,” he says. 

“Alright,” she says, sounding uncertain. She sniffs, doesn’t stop looking at him like she’s scanning him for the things she couldn’t fix, until she’s pressing her hand against his face and running her fingers through his hair. He bends his head, lets her, in a way he maybe hasn’t done for a decade. “God, I just want you to be okay, you know that, right?” 

“Would you believe it if I said that I feel that way about you, too?” 

Sugar tilts her head, considering, still with her hand on his face. 

“I think so,” she whispers, thick. “I love you, Bear.” 

Carmy nods. It’s not something she has ever needed to say. 

“Pete’s going to go fucking crazy when he finds out,” he says. “There’s not going to be a pink blanket left in the tristate area.” 

Sugar laughs, but this time it's an uncomplicated, joyful one. It is suddenly the only sound in the entire universe worth hearing. He’ll need to do this a thousand more times to ever make up for half of what she’s done for him—and he’s decided, right now, to try anyway.

“I love you too, Nat.” 

[cryptidsmoocher]

FNAF SPOILERS

okay so, i know everyone is talking about it already but I'm just gonna do a quick list of my theories n beliefs bc i want to keep em all together and also why not so here we go!!

mike and garret's father is henry emily! hes the same man working on the animatronics on the training tape, and it makes sense that william would kidnap him and that garrett would be so unphased and willing to get into a vehicle with him.

garrett will be the puppet. im loving the theory that instead of michael being an afton like he is in the games, he's an emily. garrett in this instance would be charlie's replacement in the movies. his story follows the same timeline that charlies does: locked away from their protector (mike/the puppet), taken in by someone they know (william) and then killed by him. the puppet music plays at the end of the film, and right after that, letters spell out "come find me." this is garrett, who has possessed the marionette and is speaking to mike!

the nevada dream isn't real. dreams can be foggy, memories can be worse. mike tells vanessa and his coworker that theres a dream theory, where he can go back into his memories and look for details. but what if hes so focused on trying to get to the details of the car and the man that he's forgetting the big ones? what if he never actually went to nevada? it might seem silly and farfetched but there was a lot of emphasis on the soda spilling, the ketchup spraying, etc. i kept thinking it would go back to the pizzaria. so what if michael blocked out the pizzaria entirely? what if he saw garrett be taken by william? in the games, william comes out of his car, kills charlie, and leaves. what if in the movie universe he instead took garrett and left with him in his car? what if that part of the memory is true, but in a. desperate attempt to block the memory of freddy's he forgot it entirely? he seems unfamiliar when talking to vanessa, who is shocked he's never heard of it, since it was so popular. what if the reason she was shocked was because she knew he had been here before?

vanessa and mike knew each other as kids. vanessa is very vague about her childhood and about her knowing garrett, but she does reveal that she not only met him, but was at the pizzaria often (hence the photo and all her seemingly good memories, like being excited about the band playing). if mike is an emily, it would make sense that he was at the pizzaria with garrett and his parents, and that vanessa had known him. which leads to the question of: did she see when william killed garrett? did she help him? she's smiling in the picture with her father and his plane. did she have no idea until it was too late?

henry emily will come back. mike says that his mom died and his father couldn't handle it, so he left. im not sure how they're going to fit so much into three movies, but my hope is that the trilogy they've planned will end with Pizzaria Simulator. and if this is the case, henry emily would have to be present for it to happen.

abby will possess baby. i really dont have much on this i just think it would be super sick if it followed what would have been her fate if she was an afton, and if she's elizabeths movie counterpart it would make sense for her to have the same ending.

i have a lot more theories and hopes, im actually working out a mini timeline for what i think will happen in the movies bc i think it would be super cool but!! for now thats all i got thats super major to me. im so glad fnaf has had this resurgence in theories im having the time of my life i love thinking about this kind of stuff

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

4 + boyfs :)

Boyf Riends + 4. things you said over the phone

September 1, 2015, 7:12pm

"Hey, I got my stuff from my hookup. Where are you right now? I've been looking around the food court for like ten minutes and you're just, gone. Uh, I guess I'll check Hot Topic until you get back to me. See ya."

September 1, 2015, 7:47pm

"Jeremy, why did I have to learn from the cashier at Forever 21 that Brooke and Chloe offered you a ride home?? And that you ended up just walking out instead?? I can't find you in the parking lot, man, like... Did you just-... walk home? Some warning would've been nice, ya know? Anyway. Text me so that I know you didn't die or whatever. Later."

September 2, 2015, 12:25pm

"Oh fuck off, don't pretend you don't know I'm calling you. I can see you sitting next to Rich! Your phone is right there next to your lunch tray! Good job taming him I guess, but can you stop ignoring me? For like, a minute?? Ditching me at the mall was one thing, but this is just... weird. You're being weird. And not the good kind. The like, got-replaced-by-a-changeling kind. Look- can you just look at me, Jeremy?!"

September 2, 2015, 3:43pm

"'Optic Nerve Block-' dude, what are you doing?? Is this a bit?? Haha, very funny. Jeremy's hot shit now and is too good for Michael. Great. Cool. Just-... actually ya know what, it's not cool. I'm not laughing. I mean, congrats on snatching Brooke up. That's... I mean I thought Christine was... you've just been gushing about her since... I- something about this is... *sigh* Never mind. Let me know when you decide to stop doing... this, whatever it is you're doing."

September 6, 2015, 12:56pm

"I hope you know I'm just gonna keep blowing up your phone with texts until you acknowledge me. I'm not asking for much, man! Just... an explanation? Maybe? Just something so that I know we're still cool or whatever. I know you're probably busy with rehearsal and all, but it's... weird that we haven't had a sleepover this weekend. I... can't really remember the last weekend where... *huff* Ok, so your SQUIP clearly doesn't like me. Fine. It can join the club. But... you still like me, right? Can I... can I get that much?"

September 12, 2015, 2:36pm

"Hey, since you and Rich are like, buddies now or whatever, you think you could call him off? He's still pulling his bullshit on me. And normally I wouldn't care that much, but... I dunno, it was different when it was both of us. And now you're just letting him go off on me?? Where's the Jeremy that broke his finger on a homophobic dickhead's nose two years ago? Where's the kid that became a little ball of rage that I had to restrain when guys gave me shit? I know freshman year was like, a really angsty spell for you, but... fucker- what do you want from me?! Can we just talk? Please??"

September 28, 2015, 2:03am

"Look, if you never wanna see me again, can you at least just say that?! Just tell me so that I don't have to question if you've actually decided to look in my direction or not? You haven't blocked my number, so you obviously... You're just-! Ugh! This isn't like you! Even if you do give me the silent treatment, it's never for this fucking long! If I fucked up somewhere just-! Tell me!! As much as we joke about it, I can't read your fucking mind! Fucking- text me! Pass a note! Flip me off! Something! This is fucking stupid!"

October 14, 2015, 4:47pm

"Have I mentioned how weird it is to hear other people actually name-drop you in the hall? Like, I'm still Antisocial Headphones Kid and probably will be until graduation. It's not like I care. Shit's not gonna matter in college. And even if it does, it's not gonna matter in the real world. In jobs or whatever. ...I don't... *sigh* I can't just keep calling you to yell about how you left. It just- it's old. And annoying. For me. I don't care if it's annoying for you. You're probably not even listening to these. Just... ugh, whatever. I'll see ya. Gonna go out on a limb and say you won't see me though."

October 27, 2015, 10:56pm

"Look, I- ...something about this whole SQUIP thing is really fucking shady. I just... it-it's creepy, ya know? You had to buy it at the back of a Payless, the dude selling it was sketchy as hell, and there's fuck-all on the internet about it. It's... and this isn't just because I'm salty! I mean fuck you still, but this isn't about that! Like I'm genuinely... this- it just- it's weird. I shoulda- fuck, I shoulda picked up on it sooner. I should've-! Ugh, I wouldn't have to leave you all these stupid voicemails if I'd just used my brain for two seconds! I'll... *sigh* tonight's been exhausting. I'll pick this up later. If you decide ya wanna clue me in after all this time, be my fucking guest."

October 30, 2015, 10:32pm

"Shit- ok, I get you're still doing your dumb little ignoring me thing but- fuck, you gotta get that thing outta your head. It's- I-I have this online friend, his brother had a SQUIP and- I'm looking at the videos and-... Y-you just- it's bad. It's really, really bad. I wanna come to you about this in person, but you're like, never home when I go there. And your dad doesn't know where you are either?? He just assumed you were with me! Which, I don't blame him after all these years, but... Jer, it's so fucking bad. I'm... I'm getting you to listen one way or another, so fucking help me."

October 31, 2015, 11:47pm

(There's no sound for several seconds, besides slight shifts in movement. It's all very muffled. Any words spoken are too quiet to distinguish, if they even are words at all. There might be the slightest inkling of a song in the distant background, though it's anyone's guess which song it is.)

*knock knock knock knock*

"*sniff* Shit-"

(There's some indistinct sound on the other end akin to one clambering about in a confined space. Metal rings clatter on the curtain rod as the plastic sheet is swept back.)

*knock knock knock knock*

"Just a fucking minute, man!"

*ssssshhhhhhhhhh*

(The sink is turned on, water rushing out of the faucet and hissing against the pearly white bowl that it's confined to. Its flow is interrupted by the flesh of cupped hands collecting it every few seconds, followed by the splatter of it falling back down in a scattered arc rather than a focused stream.)

*knock knock knock knock*

(It's not long before the handles squeak and the water is shut off, leaving the indistinct thrumming bass of a song that's been turned up far too loud.)

"...Hello?"

(Besides the underlying hum, silence. A lonely, lonely lack of sound, before a long sigh.)

"Figures..."

(There's nothing more than this quiet, rhythmic thumping for a long time. There's very little to break the monotony of it beyond the occasional sniffle of swallowing of phlegm.)

"Is that really how you see me? Or were you just reaching for the pettiest fucking word you could've used?"

(The scream of glass echos chillingly in the small room. Sparkling crystals twinkle and sing against smooth porcelain, a prickly harmony to go with the melody of ragged sobs.)

"God-! Dammit!"

(There's a soft thud, and then a long dragging sound akin to one sliding down to sit against a wall.)

"Fuck..."

(An eternity of smothered weeping seems to pass, though in reality it's barely more than a full minute, before a blood-curdling scream is heard, disturbingly loud for how distant it sounds.)

"FIRE!"

"Shit- what the hell??"

November 1, 2015, 2:14am

"I'm guessing you don't know this, since you didn't run out of the house screaming or get dragged into an ambulance, but Jake's house burned down. Yeah, that place where that party was happening where you-... I'm fine, by the way, because you obviously cared. Paramedics got all the glass out of my knuckles. I just... wanna confirm you're fine too. Because... still fuckin' care about you and shit. Yeah, thanks for waiting up, by the way. There's no indication you were ever fucking here, so I can only assume you bailed before anyone even smelled smoke. Glad you're safe, dickwad. Hope you can extend the same relief to me."

November 12, 2015, 5:49pm

"Hey. I'm... coming to your performance. Your dad kinda... If he's suddenly wearing pants the next time you see him, you're welcome. Guess you can thank him for me coming to see your show too... I won't have any flowers for you, but... hopefully I'll have something just as good."

November 12, 2015, 6:52pm

"--- entire stu--nt bod- -- do it!"

"Wh- Jeremy?"

"Mich- GAH!"

"Shit! Where are you?"

"-- ---- ---- ---- -- ---! -- --- -- ------ --- ---!"

November 16, 2015, 11:47am

"Hey, um... it'll probably take you a while to listen to this, if you... choose to listen to it at all. Um... it was nice seeing you at The Play, all things considered. It... it was almost like things were normal again. I... I missed it. A lot. Maybe uh... maybe once you wake up, once things settle down, we could... talk? Just... at all? Doesn't have to be a call back. Could be a text, in person, note passed in class-"

"Carrier pigeon."

"Rich says carrier pigeon. He's your roommate. You'll see that soon enough if- ...when you wake up. You've been pretty determined to stay asleep though. Four days... heh, you tryna make us jealous? I just... hope you wake up soon. Before New Year's would be nice. No pressure, obviously, just... I... *sigh* 'I miss you' would be an understatement."

November 23, 2015, 4:13am

"Hey, Michael, um... I... listened to your voicemails a couple... couple hours ago. I was going to call back when I finished them, but it was late and I figured you were asleep. Um... I guess it's even weirder that I'm calling at 4am than it would've been if I called at 1:30, but... *sigh* I'm sorry. For everything. I know I said it at The Play, but I didn't... I couldn't really... I-I'm sorry. For bailing on you at the mall. For the optic nerve blocking. For the... the shit I said on Halloween- just- refusing to believe that you were trying to help, and- Fuck- the fire. I know I didn't have anything to do with it but... I'm sorry... for making you think I didn't care about your safety. I'm so glad you got out ok, really, and... I'm... sorry for making you punch a mirror. I don't... think you meant to call me in the bathroom, but... I heard... some stuff. I don't know if it was everything."

(There's an audible swallow.)

"I just... I don't... understand, why you still helped me in the end. After... after everything. I'm grateful, and thank you, but... I was so afraid I'd burned that bridge on Halloween. No- no pun intended. I thought you wouldn't-... I-I was so sure- the SQUIP was so-"

(There's a long pause. One would think that the message had abruptly cut off if not for the shaky breathing on the other end. There's a tightness in his voice when it eventually comes back.)

"'He won't come back to you. No one is coming for you.' That's what it said. And I was convinced that I'd fucked everything up and you'd never-... but you did. And-and I'm sorry we haven't done anything together since the hospital. I've just been really... it-it's an adjustment, not having a computer telling me what to do, and balancing hormones and chemicals and- fuck, I've gotten like, no sleep this weekend. I toss and turn all night and if I don't toss and turn, it's... it's nightmares, about... *sigh* Sorry, I shouldn't dump my shit on you. Not-not like this, not after..."

(His voice crumbles, like it's taking every ounce of strength he has to keep it audible without devolvng into indecipherable cry-speak. It's all but a raspy whisper.)

"I... I do wanna see you again. I do... still care about you. A lot. So much. Not seeing you for so long, it... it's caught up to me, and... I just wanna fall asleep next to you again. Which sounds clingy as fuck, and maybe it is, but I... You're the only one that..."

(He can't hold the sobs back anymore, but he does his best to muffle them. Keep them quiet. Avoid waking his dad. Hide the pain because he doesn't want this to be about him. It shouldn't be about him. Why is he making it about him?)

"*sniff* Fuck, how long've I been talking? Sorry, I'll- just- cut this off now. Ok, um... night. I... I love you. I just... wanna make sure you know that."

November 28, 2015, 1:12pm

Send you my love on a wire~

Lift you up every time

Jeremy startles awake at the sound of Michael’s ringtone, something he hasn't heard since before the start of the school year when Michael absolutely had to tell him about the dream he'd just woken up from. He tries to shake the remnants of sleep fog from his head as he pats around for his vibrating phone, thankfully finding it before the chorus ends.

"Mmg, h-" Jeremy's voice is scratchy from being woken up, so he clears his throat and tries again. "Hello?"

"Hey, bud." Michael's voice is quiet and soft through the receiver. He sounds tired as well, but in a constant, passive way instead of a groggy way. Jeremy wonders how long he's been awake.

"Hey, um..." Jeremy sits up and loosely hugs his knees, unsure of what to say next. Not wanting to leave Michael with nothing, he circles back to, "hey."

A weak chuckle flows through the speaker, colored with a fondness Jeremy's not sure he's heard since the last time they got high together. "Are you always this articulate?"

It's sweet, knowing that Michael's first reaction is banter instead of what Jeremy would consider much-deserved exasperation. He doesn't understand it, but it tugs his mouth into a small smile. "I uh... didn't fall asleep until like 6am, so..."

"Right, yeah. You did mention trouble sleeping, didn't you."

That smile crumbles as dread pools into his chest. He can't help but hide his face despite Michael not being able to see it in the first place. "Oh gods, you listened to that voicemail?"

"Couple times, yeah," Michael confesses, and it makes Jeremy cringe in embarrassment."I wanted to come see you earlier this week, but there was school stuff, and then Thanksgiving happened and..." he trails off a bit."Yeah, um... sorry."

Jeremy shakes his head fantically. "Nono, you're fine!" he insists. He doesn't want to lose this chance, but in the moment, his scrambled brain doesn't quite know what to do with it. "It's... I- do we wanna, I dunno, um..."

"Yes," Michael says immediately. "We- I do, yeah. Totally unrelated, but you should look out your window."

Jeremy blinks as he crawls off the bed toward the window. "Is it all snowy or are you waiting out there like you're in some kind of movie?"

He pulls the curtain back to see Michael standing on the sidewalk, a bright red swatch on a brilliantly white canvas, his hoodie lightly dusted with snow. It reminds Jeremy of powdered sugar on a lemon square. Michael waves his free hand, the other one still holding his phone to his ear.

"Yes."

Jeremy tentatively waves back, though it feels more like his hand trembles against the cool glass than it feels like a proper greeting. He feels his body shaking not from the winter weather creeping its way in, but from the nerves that come from seeing his best friend again after... well, admittedly not very long, but it's different this time. "Hi. I'll uh, I'll meet you downstairs, yeah?"

"Cool, see you in a second."

"See ya." Jeremy hangs up and pulls on some soft pajama pants before hurrying down the steps. He doesn't even check the downstairs window to confirm Michael's location before opening the front door.

Sure enough, there he is, a vibrant red light in the dull white fog behind him. Jeremy holds back on his urges just long enough to let Michael inside and shut the door before throwing his arms around him. Michael catches him easily, the cold from white flakes melting into red fabric doing little to negate the warmth of his embrace.

He remains sturdy as Jeremy quivers against him, silently refusing to let go of him any time soon. Jeremy attempts to blink back the tears threatening to spill out, but only really succeeds in disguising his sob a shaky sigh. As long as he can release the tension in his throat without being too loud about it, he'll take the win.

"I love you too," Michael whispers into Jeremy's hair, squeezing him snugly. "I hope you know that."

[shannendoherty-fans]

The Rolling Stone

AMERICAN IDOL

Nobody Could Break Shannen Doherty, and Everybody Tried

The Beverly Hills, 90210 star was America's favorite Nightmare Girl — hated, feared, idolized. She embraced it all with an ever-present, knowing smirk

BY ROB SHEFFIELD

JULY 14, 2024

MARIO CASILLI/"TV GUIDE"/© AARON SPELLING PRODUCTIONS/EVERETT COLLECTION Rest in peace, Shannen Doherty — the quintessential Hollywood bad girl of the Nineties, the Heather-est of the Heathers. Doherty made her legend on Beverly Hills, 90210, the best TV teen drama ever by a mile, playing teenage chaos agent and drama factory Brenda Walsh. The world is mourning the news of Doherty’s death, at only 53, after an agonizing, nine-year, public battle with cancer. Yet she faced her health struggles with the same fighting spirit she brought to everything she did. Doherty was always defiantly herself, America’s nightmare of a Difficult Girl, which made her the most vilified celebrity of her time. But she wore it proudly. “I have a rep,” she said in 2010. “Did I earn it? Yeah, I did.”

She always had that wonderfully cocky grin, from 90210 to her Let’s Be Clear podcast. It was that grin, more than anything, that made her controversial. It wasn’t her brief marriages or her “difficult” work rep or her tabloid feuds that made her Hollywood’s most hated woman — it was the smile, her cool self-satisfied look of knowing she was the shit. That’s what America could not forgive her for — she loved being Shannen Doherty and refused to apologize for it. Nothing she went through, even in her final years, could break that grin.

She blew up right before the Nineties explosion of feminist pop culture, as the Alanis/Fiona/Courtney/Missy/Liz/Left Eye revolution took off. She was the jagged little pill that America could not swallow, and it got her crucified in public. But it’s why so many of us idolized her.

In Heathers, Winona Ryder’s Veronica Sawyer asks, “Why do you have to be such a mega-bitch?” Doherty, as queen bee Heather Duke replies, “Because I can be.” Only Doherty could give that line such a stiletto twist.

I saw her last year making a rare public appearance at a Nineties pop-culture fan convention in Florida. She had the longest lines at her autograph booth — fans told me they’d camped out for hours before her sessions even started. Everybody knew she was battling cancer, so it was emotional to see the crowd erupt when she came out for a Charmed reunion panel, saying that she was “feeling great,” holding court with that same cocky smile. She also refused to take part in the Beverly Hills, 90210 reunion panel, featuring almost all her castmates, even though she was right there in the building — she scheduled an autograph session while it was happening. What a Brenda Walsh power move.

Even before 90210, Doherty was ferocious. She was just 17 when she became one of the all-time-great movie supervillains in Heathers, as the high-school mean girl Heather Duke. It was supposed to be a star vehicle for Winona and Christian Slater, but Shannen steals it, especially in the funeral scene. She’s dressed to kill, in black gloves and a royal-wedding hat. She kneels by the casket to pray over her dead friend’s body. “I prayed for the death of Heather Chandler many times,” she tells the Lord. “And I felt bad every time I did it, but I kept doing it anyway. Now I know you understood everything. Praise Jesus! Hallelujah!” Her sadistic smirk is still shocking after all these years.

Doherty was a child actress, appearing in Little House on the Prairie when she was 11, alongside frontier patriarch Michael Landon. She credited him for inspiring her combative streak. “He told me, ‘Go with your instinct, and never let anybody walk over you, and always stick up for what you believe in,’” she once said. She stood out in the bizarrely underrated masterpiece Girls Just Want to Have Fun, one of the Eighties’ best teen movies, as Sarah Jessica Parker’s sassy little sister.

But she became a household name with Beverly Hills, 90210. “This receptionist told me, ‘What you have done for brunettes is amazing,’” Doherty told Rolling Stone in a 1992 cover story. “‘It’s always the blondes that get the guy, who have the wonderful life, who are perceived as the most beautiful one. And you have totally turned it around.” Brenda and her twin brother Brandon (Jason Priestley) had just moved to Beverly Hills from Minnesota. The Walshes were an innocent Midwest family dropped into the decadent SoCal fleshpots, where her mom fretted, “You didn’t wear this much makeup in Minnesota.”

The joke was that Shannen didn’t have a drop of Minnesota in her — her family was from Memphis, but she grew up in L.A., with showbiz written all over her face. “I dress more for my figure than Brenda does,” she said to Rolling Stone, explaining why she wore a bodysuit to the interview. “She’d probably put a dress over this bodysuit to hide herself. Brenda’s more apple pie, girl next door, America’s sweetheart.” That wasn’t Doherty’s style. Her glamour was more suited to the L.A. shoulder-pads era — she made a fantastic hair-metal muse in a video for the band Slaughter’s power ballad “Real Love.” Brenda was originally scripted as the nice, wholesome heroine, but Shannen turned it around with her sheer force of personality. Brenda had drama with practically everyone at West Beverly Hills High School, dating the bad boy Dylan. (Luke Perry tragically died of a stroke in 2019, only 52, a year younger than Doherty.) Jennie Garth played her best friend Kelly, yet they famously despised each other; one on-set brawl got so intense that Brian Austin Green had to break it up. (Green and Doherty had a laugh about this last year on her podcast.) The tension blew up with the Brenda/Dylan/Kelly love triangle. Dylan and Kelly try to keep it secret, until the legendary scene when Brenda catches them at a restaurant. Naturally she turns an awkward public encounter into World War 3, snarling, “Kelly, if you’re trying to lose your bimbo image, I honestly don’t think this will help.” If you doubt her greatness as an actor, watch her in this scene: She was a genius at hostile eye contact. Doherty made it a classic TV moment — even though Dylan really did belong with Kelly, sorry.

Brenda became the most hated character on TV. The zine Ben Is Dead did a spinoff called I Hate Brenda, with lines like “Shannen: The Other White Meat” and fantasies about Ted Nugent bow-hunting her. Plus a spinoff album full of bangers like “Brenda Can’t Dance To This” and the sensual slow jam “Horny Brenda.” It came with an “I Hate Brenda” T-shirt riddled with bloody bullet holes. When Doherty hosted Saturday Night Live in 1993, it became a horrifyingly misogynistic get-the-guest episode, sadly typical of that SNL era. In one sketch, Doherty was in the dock at the Salem Bitch Trials, with the whole cast chanting, “Burn the bitch!” (When Luke Perry hosted SNL, one of the first jokes in his monologue was “Be nice or I’ll get Shannen after you.”)

The tabloids were obsessed with her public fights, especially when she battled with Paris Hilton over Rick Salomon, Doherty’s ex from a quickie Vegas marriage. When her name came up on The Simple Life, Hilton just sniffed, “I hate that girl.”

Doherty was the bad conscience of Nineties girlhood, which was why America was so fascinated with the idea of hating her. Like Brenda, she was judged by ridiculously hypocritical double standards, sexualized and then demonized for it. She was about one-sixth as destructive as your average Hollywood male star of the time, yet she was the one constantly on trial for being everybody’s worst-case-scenario of a messy girl in public, prosecuted in her own real-life Salem Bitch Trials. Yet she refused to back down or play nice. This bitch would not burn.The 1992 ABC TV movie Obsessed is largely forgotten now — it’s total trash, but Doherty is brilliant in it. Her character spends the movie stalking her ex, who is (of all people) Seventies character actor William Devane, who was in McCabe & Mrs. Miller before she was born. (When this movie comes out, she’s 21, he’s 63 — exactly three times her age.) Naturally, the movie presents him as an innocent family man seduced and trapped by a stereotypical psycho sexpot, but Shannen’s feral intensity makes it very different — she’s in a totally different movie from anyone else onscreen. It’s full of normal people living their hypocritical lives, all agreeing that she’s the problem. But she doesn’t see it that way and won’t play that role. It’s the Alanis “I’m not quite as well and I thought you should know” brought to life.

Doherty moved on to Charmed, in a threesome of witch sisters with Alyssa Milano and Holly Marie Combs. After three seasons of conflict with Milano, Charmed finally killed off Doherty’s character and replaced her with Rose McGowan. Doherty reprised the role of Brenda in the terrible 2008 Beverly Hills, 90210 reboot, and again in the campy 2019 BH90210 miniseries. She also had a great 2006 reality show on the Oxygen network: Breaking Up With Shannen Doherty. Each week she met with people desperate to escape their dysfunctional relationships, so she stepped in and did the breaking up for them. A perfect use of her skill set: the emotional assassin.

At the Charmed reunion panel last year, she kept snuggling on the couch with fellow bad-girl lifer Rose McGowan, who said her biggest career regret was that she and Shannen didn’t overlap on the show, so they never got to be witch sisters. A fan asked if Rose, Shannen, and Holly-Marie Combs would say the Power of Three ritual together, since they never got the chance on the show. It was indescribably moving to see these three women — all outcasts in Hollywood, all women discarded and demonized in different ways, all counted out and written off — huddle together and chant, “The Power of Three will set us free!”

It was a moment that said so much about her power, and why she will be missed and remembered. But she always lived up to that answer she gave Winona in Heathers. Why did she have to be Shannen Doherty? Because she could be.