#pink rol

[darkngoo]

Sketches with my gf

[pinkworkshop]

[phanthereal]

Power-hungry brilliant sun 

[corroded-hellfire]

Continuing on with my baby fever I came across videos of parents "laying" (softly hovering) on their babies lap to see their reaction. Some babies are gentle with one parent and push of the other parent. But I wanna see how Eliza would react to the entire Munson family doing this. Thank you!

Baby fever you say? 👀 Step into my office…

Honestly, looking up reference videos for this fic was the most heart melting thing ever and I thank you for bringing that into my life. I hope I have done this justice for you!

Words: 3.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Ugh,” Luke groans as he flops down on the floor of Eliza’s nursery. The Minnie Mouse shirt and pair of toddler jeans he’s holding smack him in the face as his dramatics bring him down.

Eliza sits on her miniature butterfly couch and watches her brother, face stoic as the two-year-old is used to the theatrics he’s inherited from their father. 

“What is taking so long?” Ryan strolls into the room and leans against the door jamb. He crosses his arms over his chest and arches an eyebrow as he clocks his brother on the ground. 

Flinging the articles of clothing behind him, Luke huffs and turns his head to meet Ryan’s questioning look.

“Every outfit I pick out she doesn’t like!”

Heaving a loud sigh, Ryan saunters over to the closet tucked into the corner of the pink room. Curious as to what he’s doing, Eliza cranes her neck in an attempt to see past her oldest brother. Try as she might though, she doesn’t have x-ray vision and has to wait for Ryan to turn around to see the black and white striped dress and pastel green sweater.

“Eh?” Ryan raises his eyebrows as he holds the items out towards the toddler.

Keeping her chin high, little Eliza looks over the proposed outfit before nodding her affirmation once. 

“What?” Luke shouts as he bolts upright. “The Minnie Mouse shirt is way better!”

Ryan throws a smirk over his shoulder at his younger brother as he helps Eliza get changed into the winning look of the day. 

“She must love me more.”

“Uh, no,” Eliza hums as her head pops free from the confines of the dress. “Better clothes.”

Luke cackles with laughter, arms crossing against his stomach as he falls on his back once more.

“Oh, that’s too good! Please, we all know I’m her favorite,” Luke says.  

At only two-years-old Eliza is already used to her brothers competing in almost every aspect of life. She rolls her doe brown eyes and allows Ryan to help her into the green sweater before leaving the two boys alone in her room. 

“I seem to recall us having this argument before and Grandpa somehow coming out the winner,” Ryan says, following the little girl’s lead and heading towards the door. 

“Well,” Luke says, stretching out the word as he scrambles to push himself up into a standing position, “then this time we don’t allow him to be part of our bet.”

The older Munson brother shakes his head in amusement as he walks out into the hall and to the right, towards the rest of the house. Luke is right behind him though, practically nipping at his heels as he waits for some kind of response. 

“What bet?” Ryan asks, stepping into the kitchen.

“Yeah, what bet?” Eddie echoes, eyeing his two sons over his “#1 Dad” coffee mug where he leans against the counter. 

“Seeing who Eliza’s favorite is. And not Grandpa this time,” Luke informs his dad as he slides into a chair at the table. 

“I believe that would be me,” you say with a proud smirk, traipsing in from the living room with an empty sippy cup. “I just turned on Rolie Polie Olie for her.” 

“No one can compete with the Rol,” Eddie jokes, giving you a playful wink and a smile. 

“She definitely loves that show more than she loves any of us,” Ryan says. He yanks the refrigerator door open and stares inside as if something new is magically going to appear before his eyes. 

“I bet I could interrupt it and she’d be okay with it,” your husband says. “And will you either grab something out of the fridge or close the damn door?”

“So, you’re saying you’re the favorite, Dad?” Luke asks, eyebrows disappearing into the curls that are getting too long for his liking. 

“Isn’t that old news?” Eddie asks with a smirk as he walks over to grab Luke’s box of Lucky Charms. 

“Everything about you is old,” Ryan says.

The joke has your hand slipping, causing the apple juice you were refilling Eliza’s sippy cup with to spill all over the counter. Avoiding Eddie’s eyes, you try to hide your snort of laughter as you grab a towel to mop up the mess. Once the sippy cup is successfully filled up, you turn back towards the living room—Eddie’s eyes still firmly burning your back—and go to give your daughter her drink. 

“Didn’t we already do this? I feel like we played this game before,” you say. “Eliza picked Wayne over all of us.”

Eddie shrugs and takes another sip of his coffee. “No beating the old man. The actual old man.” Eddie narrows his eyes at Ryan, who just chuckles in return. 

“No,” Luke says. He shakes his head as he lets the marshmallow cereal fall into his bowl. “We have to know who her favorite in the house is.” 

“Any ideas?” Ryan asks, plopping down in the seat across the table from his little brother. 

“Hmm,” Luke hums as he chews on a bite of his breakfast. “I’ll brainstorm at school today.”

In the end, it’s you who comes up with the idea that sets the competition into motion. Once Eddie heads out to work and the boys to school, you realize how much you’re able to get done around the house because Eliza is thoroughly hypnotized by her favorite show. It’s not until the hour of Rolie Polie Olie is done that Eliza is running around the house, wanting to play with every toy under the roof. 

After dinner that night, and once Eliza is in bed, you bring your idea up to the boys.

“So, like, we take turns? One person a day?” Luke asks.

You nod in confirmation.

“Right. Because if we all did it one after the other on the same day, she’d get cranky and it wouldn’t be fair for whoever goes last.”

“What, we like, pick straws?” Ryan asks. “Then someone goes Tuesday, then Wednesday...?”

“I’m game,” Eddie says. He lifts one flannel-clad arm and rests it behind you on the couch, giving you the perfect opportunity to snuggle into his side. 

“So…” Luke muses as he walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, on the opposite side of Eddie. “We just put our heads in her lap like this?” The younger Munson boy demonstrates by laying his curly head on your thighs, staring up at you with wide blue eyes. 

“Exactly,” you say, reaching down to boop the tip of his nose. “See if she cuddles you or pushes you off. And then we’ll see who she has the best reaction to.”

“I like it,” Ryan says.

“Me too,” Luke agrees. “Ryan, go get straws. Cut one short!”

With an irritated eye roll, Ryan does as his little brother says, feet shuffling along the carpet as he goes. 

The plan springs into action the next day. According to the laws of the straws, Ryan was up first. Followed by Luke, you, and then Eddie rounds it out. 

Tuesday morning starts off like every other weekday, everyone running through their routines to get ready for whatever lies ahead for them that day. Once Eliza is dressed in her purple long sleeve shirt, pink overalls, and her morning apple juice is finished, it’s time for the games to begin. 

You, Eddie, and Luke watch as inconspicuously as you can from the kitchen entryway as Ryan approaches the couch. Your daughter’s eyes never leave the little yellow robots, even as her oldest brother kneels on the dusty-brown cushion next to her and keeps scooting closer. 

Eliza’s leaning back, her legs out straight in front of her, and Ryan takes advantage of the open space to lay his head right down on her little knees. The two-year-old just seems confused at first. She looks down at Ryan, back up to Rolie, down to Ryan, up to Rolie, then back down to Ryan again. After staring down at her big brother for a little while, Eliza reaches for his head and begins to card her tiny fingers through his golden-brown locks. Her hands continue the movements even as she turns her attention back to the television screen. Ryan can’t help but smile; it actually feels really nice. She keeps up the motions until there’s a commercial. Then Ryan rolls on his back to look up at her and she giggles down at him in return, not sure what he’s doing, but happy to have his attention. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Ryan asks.

Instead of answering verbally, Eliza wraps her arms around her big brother’s neck and settles back against the cushions. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ryan says with a chuckle, before adding under his breath, “and as a win.”

Wednesday, it’s Luke’s turn. Once Eliza’s got her favorite show on and a cup of apple juice in her, he makes his move. It’s clear from the moment Luke’s head hits her lap that Eliza is in a feistier mood today. Whether she woke up like that or Luke brings it out of her is anyone’s guess. 

“Ow,” Luke groans as two small hands beat down on the side of his head as if it’s a drum. The boy winces, face scrunching up, but as you watch him alongside Eddie and Ryan from around the corner, you can tell Luke is trying to stick it out and see if he can somehow salvage a win. There’s a brief glimmer of hope when Eliza stops percussing on her brother’s head. However, it’s short-lived. 

Short, stubby fingers make their way up to Luke’s curls and the youngest Munson boy breathes a sigh of relief, seeing as how gentle the toddler was with Ryan’s hair the day before. The problem, they discover, is that since Luke’s curls are far tighter than his older brother’s, Eliza’s fingers quickly get caught in them. 

“Oh, please no,” Luke murmurs, but it’s too late.

Eliza tries to yank her hands free, frustrated that her fingers can’t run smoothly through his locks like she did for their eldest sibling. She pulls Luke’s hair while letting out her own whine.

“Ouch! Why are you whining? I’m the one who’s about to be bald!”

Next to you, Eddie lets out a snort of laughter. 

“Bald?” Eddie says. “Wayne? That you?”

Giving a roll of your eyes, you gently swat at his stomach. Luke also hears his dad’s remark and gives him a glare from the couch as he tries to wrestle himself free from the toddler’s grip. 

Finally, Eliza is able to slip her hands free from the rat’s nest that’s become of Luke’s hair—thanks to her. She’s thoroughly annoyed now and grumbles a few low groans, giving up on words completely. If she were old enough to know swear words, she’d definitely be using those.

Luke breathes a sigh of relief and raises a hand to rub at his sore scalp. Before he can make contact though, both of Eliza’s hands splay flat on the back of his skull and she gives a hard shove. The implication is clear: get off my lap.

Not willing to risk any more of her tiny wrath, Luke rolls off her and off the couch altogether. He lands with a thud on the carpet and gets the chance to rub at his head at last. His eyes narrow as he looks up at Eliza, who is no longer paying him any mind. She’s immersed in Rolie Polie Olie once again, the rest of the world forgotten. 

Your youngest son pushes himself to his feet with a huff. He shuffles back towards the kitchen, back towards the rest of you.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he mumbles as he passes, heading straight for the fridge. 

To Eddie and Ryan’s credit, they do both stay silent as the three of you turn to watch Luke yank a Yoo-Hoo out of the refrigerator and pop the top. He chugs down half the bottle before wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. 

“Ugh,” Luke says with a sigh as he heads toward the hallway. “It’s not even 8 am yet.”

With both of the boys’ attempts out of the way, you’re up. You debate going in straight for the lap when you give her the purple sippy cup of apple juice, but something tells you that you’d end up with a wet and sticky face though. Instead, you wait until most of the beverage is gone and she’s let the bottle roll out of her hand onto the cushion next to her. 

“Good luck, babe,” Eddie says, giving your ass a pat before you walk out into the living room. 

As soon as your knee touches the couch, the television show your daughter is so transfixed on goes to commercial. She turns her head to look at you, large brown eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

You freeze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. It’s odd to be struck still and silent by your two-year-old, but here you are. Rolie Polie Olie being on a commercial break could either make or break this for you. 

“Mama!” Eliza chirps.

A breath loses from your chest, and you give her a grin as you move to lay your head on her little legs. The moment your body makes contact with hers, Eliza’s arms encircle you as much as they possibly can, and she leans down to rest her head against yours. Her cheek smooshes against yours, her chin bumping into the corner of your eye. 

Warmth floods through you, your heart growing three sizes as she lays all her body weight against yours.

“Hold on,” you hear Luke mutter from the kitchen, “wait to see what happens when the show comes back.”

There are only about forty-five seconds until just that happens. 

Eliza’s skin brushes against your cheek as she adjusts her head to get a better view of the television, but otherwise stays where she is. In fact, it feels as if she cuddles into you even further as she settles in to watch her favorite show. 

“Oh, come on,” you hear Luke complain. The twelve-year-old is clearly not happy that he is losing this competition so far. It’s not as if Eliza could be bribed, though. Luckily, toddlers haven’t been corrupted by life yet. 

Luke walks into the room and stands at the side of the couch, hands resting on his hips. 

“Comfy, are we?” he asks. 

It’s evident your daughter is quite cozy as she doesn’t look up at her brother or move for the rest of the episode. 

“All right,” Eddie says, rubbing his hands together. “Saved the best for last.”

“Debatable,” Ryan says as he chomps on a granola bar. 

Your husband flicks Ryan’s black-rimmed glasses so they slide down his nose. With a huff that sounds far more sophisticated than one coming from a fourteen-year-old, your son shakes it off. 

“Ready?” you ask, slipping your arms around Eddie’s waist. 

“Always up for snuggles with my girls.” 

A wet, smacking kiss is placed on your cheek, and you let out a soft giggle.

“Gross,” Luke groans.

“I know you are, but what am I?” Eddie taunts, proving he’s as mature as his adolescent sons. 

You let your arms drop from around his middle and you cup Eddie’s cheeks. 

“Go get her,” you say.

He pecks your lips before heading out into the living room.

Eliza is as entranced as always in her cartoon and Eddie takes advantage of that by silently sidling up to her. She doesn’t even realize he’s there until the couch dips next to her and her empty sippy cup rolls until it meets Eddie’s jean-clad knee.  

He moves the cup aside and slowly lowers himself until he’s able to rest his head in his daughter’s lap. 

At first, it’s as if Eliza doesn’t even notice. She’s watching her show, letting her dad just lay down on her. But after a few seconds, her stare breaks from the television and her brown eyes meet matching larger ones. Her head tilts to the side, inspecting him, and her curls bob with the motion. Eddie smiles up at her and a slow grin grows on her face in return. 

One of Eliza’s tiny hands splays across Eddie’s forehead, some of his bangs getting pushed to the side, and some getting caught under her warm palm. Her other hand lands on his chin, delicate fingers curving around his jaw and rubbing against some stubble. 

Eliza stays like that, looking down at her father, not moving. It takes everything in Eddie not to laugh as he just stares back at the inquisitive little face that reminds him so much of you. 

Quickly, Eliza leans in and presses a kiss to the tip of Eddie’s nose. Gone is his urge to laugh, replaced by the most adoring grin as he revels in her affection. He’s about to thank her for the kiss when she leans in to do it again. This time, however, her mouth is open, and she ends up enveloping his nose in her small mouth.

There’s no way Eddie can hold in his laughter this time as he feels her drool dribble up his nose onto his face. The giddiness is infectious because Eliza pulls her mouth off only to begin laughing alongside of him. 

“You might just be as weird as I am,” he tells her, which makes her laugh even harder. 

That night at dinner, the results are discussed.

“So, who wins?” Ryan asks as he spears some green beans with his fork.

“Not me,” Luke grumbles, slouching down in his chair. 

“Oh, relax,” Eddie says, reaching over and clapping the younger boy on the shoulder. “It’s not like this was scored or anything.”

Luke drops his fork onto the plate with a clang and raises his hands up in front of him.

“My hair ruined it for me! That’s not fair!”

“You know, she can talk now,” you point out, looking at Eliza happily eating in her highchair next to you.

“Good point,” Ryan says. He clears his throat and leans across the table towards her. “Eliza, which of us is your favorite?”

The little girl pops a grape in her mouth and chews, looking like she’s thoughtfully thinking over the question.

“Me,” she finally says.

“No,” Luke says with a shake of his head. “Which of us?” He emphasizes his point by gesturing to the four of you around the table. 

Eliza nods her head once, with finality. “Me.”

Eddie huffs a laugh and shrugs his shoulders.

“Her Majesty has spoken.”

“I don’t think it counts,” Luke laments, looking back down to his plate.

“Yeah, her vote doesn’t count,” Ryan agrees.

You and Eddie share a look of amusement across the table. With these three around, life will never be boring.

[kaynothanks]

Tape From Hell

Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader, more

Ask: @hargrove-stan: Can I request an imagine where the reader and Billy are dating and instead of billy getting possessed by the mind flayer it’s the reader? And billy is the one trying to free the reader from the mind flayer’s possession in star court mall? Reader doesn’t die!

Warnings: NSFW! swearing (like a lot), t o x i c relationship, SMUT, oral (f receiving), p in v, choking, dirty talk, a hint of degradation, billy being bat shit? Idk if it's a part of his personality comes with the package, crying, angst, sad shit, violence! (not from Billy for a change), it's dark I ain't gonna lie, minors dnr

Word-Count: 14k (I know she’s a long one but it’s worth it)

There were a few things about Billy that had you seething with anger for a big part of your relationship. For one, Billy Hargrove was one big asshole. He could be oh so selfish and self-obsessed and sneaky as hell. Something about his way just played into one’s annoyance just right. Perhaps it was a talent, really, for him to be able to change someone’s mood from happy to sour with only a few words and calculated looks. Just like he had done to you only half an hour prior, leaving you to sit in your car, anger brooding in the back of your mind.

You had been on your way home, punching your steering wheel furiously, as you cussed him out, the mixtape he had made for you playing loudly in the background when you almost hit a tree. Deciding it was better to stop for a few moments and calm yourself, you now sat at the side of the road, head thrown back against the seat, eyes closed as you forced yourself to stand over it.

Everything had been just fine; you knew his temper and his habits of flirting. You knew and it was fine. But when you came to the Hawkins Community Pool, where you had planned to surprise him with some food and a new bikini, which you knew he would drool over, only find him grinning down at Karen Wheeler, while biting his lip and moving his hand to gallantly pull at the strap of her swimsuit – which was quite unsuitable for a woman her age, by the way. He had seen you then, after giving a wink to one of her lady friends. And he knew what he had done too, for the sly smile had frozen on his lips and his limbs seemed to stiffen dramatically. You had turned around then, walking back to your car with the two milkshakes and bag of food in hand. He had run after you, too, and you thought had he not done so, you would have been less angry now. It was nothing, he had said. They just like to look, no need to overreact. That one had gotten you and God you had reacted, for he had pulled such shit, too, back when you were both still in high school.

All images of him ever flirting with other girls and women while you two were dating flashed in your mind. And Jesus, they were a lot, but you knew what you were getting into when you first started seeing him. You knew and you didn’t care, because all that Billy was, he was good, too. He was so very good sometimes that your heart sputtered over with love and happiness, so much you had never felt anything to compare it to. Sipping the milkshake that hadn't landed on top of his head, you started up the engine of your car again, continuing your drive further into the town. You had just gotten off one of your jobs, where you worked as a secretary for men, who showed not a single bit of respect for you, only to gain further humiliation at your second job having to wear an orange-shaped head, while selling orangey beverages all evening long.

You parked the car, which once had belonged to your father, in a sunny spot close to the entrance of Starcourt Mall. Your head plopped down against the steering wheel, eyes lazily turning to your passenger seat. A pout worked its way to your lips at the orange, green-collared, pink-buttoned work uniform. With a huff you stripped of the fine shirt you were currently wearing, leaving you in the bikini top you had purchased. For Billy.

You rolled your eyes and slipped on the orange piece of pure torture, gripping the silly hat and locking your car. There was another half hour before you had to start your shift, so instead of heading straight for Orange Julius you went up the stairs, ready to bother the shit out of your one friend.

Ignoring the people whispering upon noticing your fast pace, you vanished inside the little shop, crossing it in seconds as you pulled a chair up to the counter, causing it to screech.

"Jeez," Robin stared down at you, as you let yourself fall on the uncomfortable plastic that made the skin of your thighs stick to it. You groaned at her look, pressing your face against the cold surface of the counter, barely missing the little bell there.

She pressed her palm flat to your forehead and lifted your head. "You know how many disgusting toddler hands were all over that surface? Remember the acne you had freshman year? Be ready to embrace it 'cause it's coming for round two, baby."

"Wheeler," you whined. "Goddamn, he was flirting with her."

"Nancy?" She clicked her tongue. "Can't blame him."

"No," you moaned ready to press your face back to the counter, but her hand stopped you. "Mrs. Wheeler." You pulled back then to lean against the chair, pushing back strands of hair. "I mean, what is it? Am I- I not wrinkly enough? Do I need to put on old people's clothes?" Your hand reached for her arm as you pulled her closer. "I'm not ready to look like an old lady, Robin."

She flicked at your hand so you would let go of her. "Ah, yeah, Hargrove. Such a nice guy," she mused sarcastically. "Been telling you how much I like him, right?" She grinned falsely, batting her eyelashes. "Dreamboat waiting to sail. Nothing wrong with that guy." She rested her elbows on the counter. "One could think you are a bull with how much you go for the red flags."

You rolled your eyes, before letting them wander over the different sorts of ice-creams. "Worst thing, I spent money for him. Again."

"Did you buy him shitty expensive cologne again? 'Cause everybody needs that in their life."

"Okay, firstly, it was his birthday and he liked it. Secondly, no I didn’t. Thirdly…" You quieted as you thought.

A chuckle from behind Robin got your attention. "You don’t have a third point, do you?"

You narrowed your eyes at the brunette. "You haven’t gotten your dick wet yet, have you?"

Robin snorted. "I should make a new scoreboard. This happens way too often for there not to be a scoreboard."

"What did you spend the money on, though?" Steve questioned. You shamelessly unbuttoned a bit of the work uniform which had Steve chocking on his own spit. Pulling away the orange fabric, you showed off the bikini.

"That is…" Robin cocked her head, her hand dangling in front of her own chest as she tried to gesticulate. "Tiny… very… strappy?"

"It's hot," you argued, buttoning the uniform back up. Pointing to Steve, you gave Robin a triumphing grin. "Shut Harrington up and he didn’t even see the bottoms. Two words for you; tiny and strappy."

Robin, too, gave a glimpse over her shoulder at her colleague. "Talking about scoreboards," she mumbled, getting the whiteboard from the back. With her teeth, she pulled off the marker's cap and drew a thick line on the YOU SUCK side of the scoreboard. Your eyes landed on the empty YOU RULE part.

"Why don’t you just dump him?" Steve inquired, coming to stand beside your friend. "I haven't seen him since school ended and let me tell you, the guy's not very miss-able."

You pouted. "Because I lo-"

"No!" Robin groaned, shielding her ears dramatically. "I had to listen to three months of whining because he wouldn’t take you out. I went through that and took it like a mother-effing champ. Don’t say the other thing. I can’t take that yet."

"Robin, Billy and I have been dating for a while, you know? Pretty sure you should get ready for hearing the L-Word."

"What, it's been like a month. Big deal."

"A year," you spoke slowly. "We have been dating for a year."

"Huh," she made. "Guess time moves differently with one foot in hell."

"Did you just call my relationship hell?"

"Yup."

You crossed your arms. "You owe me free ice cream now."

"No freebies for you anymore," Steve grumbled.

You frowned. "C'mon," you whined, patting the counter expectingly. "Give me the scoops, Ahoy Boy."

"No," he squeaked, scrunching up his face. "Not after last time." The last time he had lost a bet with you, saying he would be able to get some girl's number. He hadn’t been able to do that, winning you all the ice cream you wanted for a day, straight out of his pocket. You hadn’t held back, going home with a crucial tummy ache that evening.

"Doesn’t your shift at OJ's start like four minutes ago?" Robin chimed in, still playing with the marker between her fingers.

Once more a pout grazed your lips as you stood. "This isn't over yet, Harrington. I'm going to get my scoops."

Pushing the chair back where it belonged, you waved to Robin – the one friend you had had through High School before Billy had shown up from California. You had noticed him the second he pulled up in that beautiful Camaro of his. Unlike the car that you owned, his was polished and treated with care. Treated with love.

Billy didn’t hold love more many things in this life but his car surely was one of them.

After his big entrance, everyone around you had his name in their mouths, with the rumor-mill stirring like crazy. Before the first period had even started, you knew his name, age, and half of his family history. And he had known absolutely nothing about you. Not even known you existed – until later in the week.

You had been on your period, you remembered that. Remembered the ache in your lower abdomen, and that you had been forced to change pants after the gym class which the teacher hadn’t allowed you to sit out. So, you were walking the halls of Hawkins High in an already sour mood that had gotten significantly worse about halfway through Miss Click's history class. She had given back a surprise test that you hadn’t studied for, which was pretty clear after you saw the grade.

To say you were a bit feral that day – big understatement. When Billy Hargrove then ran into you after his afternoon basketball practice, you exploded into a fit of rage that the school hallways had never witnessed from you before.

"Are you blind? Or just blind stupid?" You had hissed at him. "I mean, understandable. That big goddamn ego of yours must be leaving no place for even just part of a brain, is it?"

As Billy spotted the crease between your brows and the furious fluttering of your nostrils and how you still just looked just so damn sweet, he knew he needed to have the devil in angel's clothing. No matter how much you resented him at first. He had managed to make you want him, so much that you spent months ranting about him to Robin. How he had managed it, you still didn’t know.

After receiving shit about the five minutes you were late, you took your spot and hat and filled the beverages in round glasses for the customers to enjoy. Once they were done, you were there to gather the dirty dishes and bring them to the back. It went on for about an hour until a perfectly styled mullet entered your vision.

"No," you said flatly as you saw his little grin. "I'm working and I don’t feel like talking right now."

His hand reached out to tug at the embarrassingly big hat you wore, which you slapped away with a huff. Mrs. Wheeler surely didn’t have to wear something so stupid. You took a step back and crossed your arms, watching as he harshly bit down on the minty chewing gum. He turned his back to you, giving you a second to freely roll your eyes, as he changed the sign on the glass door from open to closed.

"Billy," you warned. "I'm working. I don’t have time to listen to you try to talk yourself out of the deep shit you're in."

"Oh, Sweetheart," he mused, showing off his pearly whites. "Never said anything about talking, now, did I?" His fingers went up to pull out the piece of chewing gum which had probably already lost its taste.

"I swear to god, if you put that down somewhere without properly throwing it away, I will stick it to your forehead," you warned, already scrunching up your nose at the thought of having to scrub gum off any more surfaces. The ones beneath the tables were disgusting enough to clean each month.

"Princess," he spoke up, stalking closer which made you shift from foot to foot. You wanted to close your eyes and hit your head against one of the mixers to remind yourself not to let him get to you.

"No," you insisted, putting a hand out to push him away. "I don’t want your apology."

Seeing the seething red in your eyes, he sighed and finally took a step back. He leaned his back against the wall across from you, clenching and unclenching his fingers. You knew he did so to center himself, slightly pushing his nails into his skin as a reminder not to blow up when talking to the people important to him. "I'm sorry."

You lifted a brow. "For what?"

His mouth opened unsurely. "Everything."

"Everything," you whispered to yourself, before a light chuckle escaped you, with a shake of your head. "You're a bad liar, you know that?" As he went to argue about your statement, you lifted a finger, signaling him to just stop with the whole goddamn charade. You gripped the orange-shaped hat from your head and flung it aside, as you stepped further into the back. Distance was needed before you got close to bursting into tears from all your pent-up frustration with him. In front of the giant fridge, you stopped, far out of his reach, out of his sight. Both of your hands went to your face. You wanted to shout into a pillow, like you had done back in Highschool when something angered you. Or perhaps punching something, anything that would have eased what you were feeling.

Your name sounded from his lips as he rounded the corner, causing you to straighten your back. "Talk to me," he spoke, confusion in his voice as though he had no idea whatsoever of what was going on inside of your head; your heart.

"Fine," you hissed and turned to face him; angry tears stinging in your eyes. "You act like nothing's wrong when it clearly is! And I keep trying to tell myself that all of… all of your shit is just that. Your shit. And that it's going to stop at some point. That you will grow out of whatever egoistical trip you're on. But no matter how long I wait and how much I tell myself the wait is worth it, somehow, it's always a losing game with you!"

"I'm sorry," he repeated, eyes averted to the checkered floor.

"Oh, stop it." That got him to look up. "You're not. Because this is what you enjoy, Billy. God knows why but you fucking love me screaming at you, you like seeing me angry, you like us fighting."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He growled, unable to stop his own fury from rising. "I work at the goddamn swimming pool. I wear swimming trunks and I can’t fucking help them ogling me!"

"That's not even what this is about anymore!"

"What the fuck is it about then?!"

"You treating me like shit, Billy!" You shouted, throat hurting with the tone you were hitting. "What the fuck happened to all of your promises? I will take care of you, I promise to love you, I can’t wait to start a life with you," you spat in his face, ready to grip some of the filled cups that you had falsely made – in your occupation of mind - and were sent back, just to see something run down that goddamn annoyingly pretty face of his. Even if you had already smashed a milkshake on his head only hours prior.

Angry tears were pricking at your waterline, eyes burning. Or perhaps they weren't simple angry tears at all. They were a realization that somewhere along the way so much had gone wrong and still you couldn't bring yourself to give him up. You couldn't bring yourself to turn your back on the bad seemingly following your relationship because every time you tried, all the good moments invaded your thoughts, as though it was a sign that your relationship still could be everything you had hoped for.

You knew he could be. You were certain of it, had seen it in the way his eyes would make sure you were alright after coming home from a stressful day of work; In the way he checked if you had gotten enough water over the day since you tended to forget. Or how he brought back tapes which he thought you would like when it was actually him that had wanted some new music for blasting in his car.

He had a well-tuned stereo in his room, boxes placed so the center of the room would be hit with the perfect tune. You had laid on the floor the first time he played you a tape and he didn't question it, didn't look at you with anything else but adoration before joining you.

Not wanting him to see you cry, you turned with your head hung low, one hand pressed against your lips in case an uncontrollable sob tried forcing its way from your throat, while your other hand wiped at your eyes. Arms snaked around you from behind, pressing you tightly against his solid front.

"I'm sorry," he whispered over and over again, nosing at the side of your face as he pressed a kiss to your temple. You shut your eyes, turning your face to the left, away from him, and yet he continued. Admitting to being an asshole, admitting he didn't deserve you, admitting he loved you. Your heart ached until suddenly you couldn't help it as you turned your head to the other side, his kisses now falling to your cheek.

"I'm so fucking sorry," Billy murmured once more and you craned your neck then. His lips found yours immediately. Desperate and scared of losing you. Of having finally crossed the line after coming so, so close too many times to count. He couldn't understand why he was so intent on fucking up the thing he thought was the most precious achievement he had ever made. He didn't care about being popular, didn't care about making people gawk after him, not really. He cared about you so fucking much it scared him.

There were so many things in your relationship he was afraid of and somehow, he had already managed to do half the things he tried avoiding so furiously. He knew you deserved so much more, so many things better than him, better than this goddamned town. He had meant it when saying he wanted to start a new life with you somewhere else, had started circling ads for houses or apartments in newspapers that he usually wouldn't bother giving a second glance to. He had started saving up, too. Though money was one thing he couldn't say he had a fair share of.

"I'll be better," he promised, hushing it against the sweet flush on your lips which his kisses had caused. "You deserve better."

"I know," you whispered, promising yourself this was the last chance you were granting him as he turned your form in his arms. His hands, calloused by basketball and weight-lifting, fell to either side of your face, and once more his mouth was on yours; no less desperate, no less scared, no less guilty.

It was in the snap of a second that the softness faded and all the pain and betrayal was put into a messy clash of tongue and teeth. Your arms circled his shoulders as he backed you up against one of the metal tables. He tugged at the polo shirt you were wearing, almost tearing it over your head as he carelessly threw it over his shoulders.

The decorative orange and green lighting was a blur as he heaved you onto the cool surface. He halted for a moment, letting his eyes wander to the newest addition to your closet. A grin spread on his lips as he gave a swift tug on the fabric.

"Did you get that for me, baby?" His face was molten with a hint of cockiness, shaped slyly by his lopsided smirk. "Wanted me to tell you how pretty you are?" Billy questioned, lips hovering over yours before he dipped in for a soft peck. "You are, baby. My perfect girl."

My girl. Your breathing picked up and not a second you had his hair in your grasp, pulling him in close. His lips smashed onto yours in a forceful kiss. With expert fingers he snapped open the bikini top, making it join your shirt on the floor. Billy's rough hands found your hips as he pushed you closer to the ache pressing needily against the prisoning material of his jeans. One of his hands trailed up along your naked waist, finding one of your sensitive peaks, letting his thumb brush over it until he gave it a sudden pinch. You gasped.

"You liked that, baby?" He questioned against your lips, deepening the kiss before you could answer. His nose tenderly landed on your cheek, trailing down further. A small, innocent kiss was pressed against your neck as simultaneously his left hand tightened, digging into the flesh of your hip. With the tip of his tongue, Billy trailed along your pulse point, causing your eyelids to fall shut. There was no denying the comfortableness you felt when being in his arms, his kisses something to give you bliss and steal your breath.

"Billy," you sighed, the name falling from your tongue coated in all the sweetness you weren't sure he deserved. Your head felt as though it was rising to the clouds and every stroke of his tongue across your skin lulled you in contentment.

Though suddenly his mouth left your skin. You opened your eyes in confusion, only to find him sinking to his knees. "I'm gonna show you just how sorry I am."

Your thighs tensed, his bigger hands around them, spreading them however he desired, while your hands unconsciously followed the feel of his soft, blonde locks. Lightheadedness struck you as his breath fanned over the sensitive insides of your bare thighs. You didn't like a lot about your work uniform but the skirt you were growing quite fond of. The warmth caused your legs to clench as something deep in your lower tummy tightened.

"I don't care about any of them," he told you and you knew he meant the ogling women while his hands were squeezing and lifting your leg onto his shoulder. He brought your ankle to his lips, eyes boring into your own before he slowly worked his way up. "Only thing I want is you," he murmured, words smeared against the heated skin of your thighs. "Having those pretty legs spread just for me." He teethed incautiously against your sensitive spots that he knew oh so well. Again, a bright smirk spread across his face. "Getting to hear those perfect little noises from that smart mouth of yours when I make you cum."

Your legs shook as his hands bunched up the fabric of your skirt, hearing him suck in a sharp breath at the tiny bikini bottom barely covering your core. "You were going to wear that to the public pool, baby? Show everyone how pretty you look for me, how much of a whore Hawkins good girl really is?"

You swore silently as he gave a slap to your inner thigh, arching your back to press your core close to him. He gazed up at you through his gorgeous collection of thick, dark lashes that you had adored from the first moment of noticing them. "Billy- please, need it," you mumbled, brows furrowed.

He huffed out an amused chuckle. "Hold on, darling." Within seconds he had loosened the little bows and ripped away the bikini bottoms; him almost sending you from the edge of the counter, though before you could get far, he had you caged between the prodding muscles of his arms. There was little time for preparation as he pressed a messy kiss to your most sensitive bud. Your leg jolted at the sudden surge of pleasure that ascended from the very tips of your toes all the way up your spine, your nipples hardening. The hand in his locks tightened, forcing a groan from his lips, sending vibrations of his dark rumble through your core. There was no question that Billy knew what he was doing. No doubt as he parted your lower lips with his sinful tongue, exploring your pussy with a growling hunger. You shifted, the raw sensation of his muscles circling your clit too much but his arms kept you locked tightly against his tongue.

You whined loudly, forgetting about the masses of people outside the paper-thin walls, as his tongue prodded at your clenched hole, nose bumping into your glistering wetness. Billy flattened his tongue against your mound, nuzzling in messily with a slight shake of his head. His lapping at your folds didn't cease, the lower part of his face drenched in your slick.

Your hips bucked, and you weren't sure if you were trying to get away from the overwhelming stimulation or get impossibly closer to the pleasure he was giving you. You moaned out his name, purposefully tugging him closer by his blonde mullet. He sucked your clit into his mouth, your legs clenching before he let go of it with a pop.

"You're so fiery, princess- makes me want to fuck you so hard." With his teeth, he tugged on your throbbing bundle of nerves causing you to jerk forwards with a surprised moan. "You gonna let me do that, huh? Let me make you cry for the right reasons, baby?"

You nodded furiously, pleas escaping your swollen lips, easing up only at the sound of his belt unbuckling. Your ears picked up the ripping of plastic before his warmth returned between your thighs. His thick hardness nudged at your sopping entrance, as one of his hands pulled your face to his, fingers digging into your neck. "Tell me I belong to you."

You opened your mouth and though he had pressed you for a response he pushed in in one swift motion, rendering you utterly speechless.

"Tell me I belong to you," he whispered against your ear, pulling out until no more than the tip was left in your clenching core before he dove forward with no hesitation. You wetly gasped his name, nails digging into his broad shoulders but he remained relentless. "You're not gonna tell me, baby?" He teased. "Can't even think with my cock stretching that tight little cunt, huh?" Whining, one of your hands fell to his forearm while the other searched for something to hold on to behind you. It was all too much; the filthiness of his words paired with thrusts so deep your tummy felt as though it was bound to burst. "I still wanna hear it, baby," he insisted, hand circling your throat as he gave it a warning squeeze. Billy brought your ear to his lips. "Be a good girl."

"Fuck, Billy," you whined as he hit a certain spot deep in your cunt. "You bel-ah! belong to me."

"There were go, darling." His teeth tugged at your earlobe, delivering another sharp thrust that had tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Know how you feel, princess. If anyone looks at you- fuck- touches you, I'm gonna fucking kill them," he whispered, tightening his grip on your neck ere his tongue licked at the sweaty skin of your neck where his hand didn't reach. You clenched around him, head falling back in defeat as his length continued to split you open.

"Are you close, princess? Can feel you squeezing me."

"Uh-uh," you whimpered, nodding your head. "So close."

Billy landed a spank on your ass as he yanked you closer onto his cock. His hips stuttered when you tightened at the stinging sensation, tip slamming into your spot, making you choke on your moan. "Cum for me, princess, be a good girl."

Your toes curled in pleasure, thighs trembling under his every action. You cried out his name, your sudden orgasm leaving your lungs empty of air; voice broken as Billy continued his forceful thrusts for a few moments before a low rumble of a curse fell from his lips and he stilled. He lifted his head, resting his forehead against yours, thumb stroking your throat which he had been gripping with no remorse mere seconds ago.

With one more kiss on your forehead, he pulled out carefully, asking you where you kept your towels. You wordlessly pointed to a drawer of freshly washed cloths, not sure if you could trust your voice just yet. Watchful eyes followed Billy's every move while he took out what he deemed to be the softest towel, as he moved on to wet it in the sink before stalking back to you. He gave a quiet tsk as a sign for you to open up your thighs. Unnaturally gentle, he cleaned up the mess he had forced out of you in the best ways possible and expertly threw the wet towel into the laundry basket across the room; ever the basketball star.

Billy took his place between your thighs, gripping them though tender and attentive - nothing like the bruising digging of his fingers from before. "I'll be better," he promised once more, followed by a small peck on the lips.

You grimaced, encircling his neck with your arms. "You can say it over and over again, Billy. It won't change anything. I need you to show me."

"I—"

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Both him and you groaned simultaneously, heads dropping at the interruption. You jumped down from the metal surface, now sticky with sweat and you knew you would have to thoroughly clean and disinfect everything before leaving that evening. Hastily you pulled on the bikini top and shirt Billy held out for you, waiting for him to hand you the panties only to stare dumbly as he shoved them into the back pocket of his jeans.

"Billy," you stated with a tone to let him know you wanted them back now, though you were met with his cocky, pearly-white grin.

"You didn't think we were done, did you, princess?" He stepped closer, hand finding your bum as he gave a few innocent pats. "Haven't made you cry yet, now, have I?" He brought his lips to a level with yours. "Kiss."

With a pout you obeyed, agreeing to meet him back at his place later, since Neil and Susan wouldn't be there, going on a date night which Susan had insisted on.

...

After your shift – and another half an hour of cleaning – you closed the store, exiting the partly dark Starcourt Mall. On the drive home, you tried getting the static out of your old car radio, frustration clawing at you, you barely caught what was in front of you. You hit the brakes; heart-rate picking up as you understood that this situation could have ended so much worse.

Almost comical that Billy now seemed to be the better driver out of the two of you. He sure as hell wouldn't have almost hit the massive tree blocking the street. You rolled your eyes, knowing that now you would have to take the biggest detour of all. It was an almost complete round of the town to some old industrial district with many abandoned buildings and factories.

With a sigh, you turned the car around and headed in the other direction.

One of the tapes Billy had given to you was playing just loud enough for you to be able to blend out your own singing. Your fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as you squinted your eyes at the next factory you were to pass. Brimborn. You noted though it was too dark to make out what was written smaller below.

Ere you could get a second look something hit your windshield, shattering it. You turned the wheel in shock, the wheels of the car slipping on the sandy street, making you drift out of control as you once more hit the brakes until the car stilled. Cursing out every swear word you had ever heard, something dripped from your forehead. You lifted your hand carefully to your skin, finding it covered in red as you examined it.

Growling your clenched your hands into fists and pushed open the car door to get a look at your car. Smoke was rising from the engine hood which made you weary to even get close but then your eyes caught something weird. Brows furrowed, you stepped closer to the windshield an eerie cold running over your back as your fingers touched the gooey liquid covering the glass.

What in the holy hells did you hit? A jumbo toad?

Leaves rustled. You turned sharply, pressing closer to the smoking hood. It seemed better than being hacked up by an axe murderer from behind. A weird gurgling screech came from the dark.

"Oh, hell no," you whispered to yourself, rounding the car, and heading for the door. You pulled and rattled but the damn thing was bent shut from whatever it was that hit you. Something snaked around your ankle. You gasped about to look down when you were yanked from your feet. Screeching you tried digging into the ground to keep from being pulled into the factory by whatever this thing was. Your hand caught the iron of a handrail as you strained with all your might against the force of whatever dread awaited you in the dark.

The iron gave a creak. Your eyes shot up. It was in the blink of an eye that the iron gave and nothing of you remained in the light.

The stone floors were icy when you next opened your eyes. It was as though no more than two seconds had passed when you ripped yourself free from whatever had you in its grip. With a furiously beating heart, you dashed for the creaky metal stairs illuminated dimly by old street lamps. The gurgling of that thing still close on your heels, you took the steps two at a time, tripping when you finally reached the upside.

A shout of terror flew from your mouth as you thought it would get you once more and you hastily scrambled back to your feet and out of the steel mill. You opened the passenger side of your car and climbed through to the driver's seat, making a run with screeching tires.

Blood tickled into your eyes from the wound on your forehead. You went to wipe it away as you took in your hand covered in glinting red. Breathing picking up, you turned the rear-view mirror, a sunflower pendant Billy had gifted you dangling from it.

A figure covered in red stared back at you from the backseat. You screeched and hit the brakes. A hand shot forward from the backseat and you dodged it barely. Rattling on the dented car door curses flew from your mouth before you gripped the door handle and with full force rammed your shoulder against it. It fell open and you toppled out onto the street. Your eyes went back to the car, though the figure was there no longer.

The street lights went black. Tears of dread fell onto your cheeks, not able to see your own hand in front of you. You stumbled back to your car, tripping over something as your hand landed on the grimy surface of the engine hood.

"Build."

You whirled around and out of the black shot a streak of red lighting. The sky was lit up in a second as white flakes started to rain down from above. An eerie cold surrounded you and out of desperation, your eyes fell shut, trying to escape what was happening around the same way a child hid when being frightened.

A vision of rats zipped over your inner eye. The monster that had taken you; as its appalling arm loomed over your form back at Brimstone mere moments before everything went dark.

With a gasp, your eyes shot back open only to find the figure from your backseat grinning at you. You squinted your eyes, trying to make out who or what it was, as the horror inside your gut found a sudden surge of courage.

"What the hell do you want?!" You shouted but the figure did no more than chuckle darkly.

"Build." "Build." "Build."

The whispers came from everywhere around you. There were no more places left to hide as the figure dripping with blood moved toward you. Another sinister bold of lighting struck and the air flew from your lungs as your own face loomed back at you. The creature might have worn your face but the darkness in it was nothing you could have ever conjured.

This creature was a nightmare sent from the darkest of realms, you were sure of it, and for a second you contemplated whether it was the devil itself standing across from you.

"Build," she stated and leaped.

...

You shot up utterly breathless and disoriented in a way you had never experienced before. There was a ringing in your ears, a distortion in your vision and it took you a few minutes to understand you were at home. The room was dark, curtains shut completely which was unusual for you since you liked sleeping with the moon bringing a bit of light.

The ringing in your ears was joined by the unsteady thumbing of your heartbeat. You stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom across the hall which your mother had remodeled in an obnoxious shade of lime green. Gasping, you shielded your eyes from the sun streaming in and turned on the cold water. Your eyes caught your reflection in the mirror over the sink. The wounds on your face were gone. You cocked your head, furrowing your brows. Something was off. You lifted your hand, moving it toward your reflection and the second your skin came into contact with the cold surface, the bathroom was dipped into darkness. Black vines were running over the furniture and the floor and those white fragments filled the air. You let go and it all vanished. Shaking your head, you spattered some cold water onto your face before deciding on taking a shower.

No amount of droplets splattering against your shoulders helped you clear your mind as you exited and wrapped a towel around your body. You brushed your teeth as you did every day and applied some sun protection on your face as your vision stopped at the right side of the mirror. The cabinet stacked with your mothers cleaning supplies. As though you were caught in a trance, you set down the yellow tube and turned. Your mind was empty of thoughts or will, the only thing filling your thoughts was a spur of purpose that was not your own. You reached out and opened the lime-painted cabinet door, grasping a bottle of tile cleaner.

A concerned shout of your name went through the house. You staggered back just as your mother knocked on the door, the cap of the cleaner in your other hand. "Honey? You're going to be late for work."

You shut the cleaner, leaving the bathroom in a hurry, almost running over your mother, as you slammed the door of your room shut behind you. You pressed your hands to your face, fingers pressing into your scalp, as you pushed down the eerie cold inside of you. For the first time since you awoke, your mind felt free. You went on to get dressed and grabbed your car keys ere making your way downstairs. Close to the front door, your mother called for you once more. You stilled; the ringing lowly returned as you turned your head to the side.

"Build."

Your feet moved by themselves and before you knew what you were doing, you found yourself in the kitchen, the handle of a frying pan clutched in your hand. You took a swing, just as your mother turned to you, a plate of eggs in her grip. The plate clattered to the tiled floor and your mother yelled out with wide eyes as the pan found its mark for a second time.

You stared for a second at the unconscious form of your mother. There was no remorse or any other emotion in your bones. Making your way to the garage through the connecting door in the kitchen you searched your father's man-cave for some duct tape. You put a piece over her mouth and bound her arms and legs with it. Carelessly you let it fall to the ground before you took a hold of her legs and pulled her sleeping form after you. Opening the trunk of your car, you heaved her up into it with grunts and straining muscles and shut it after the deed was done.

You pressed the button in the corner of the room which opened the garage door and sat in the driver's seat before hitting the gas pedal; the garage door just opened enough for the car to fit through. The pace you were going was something you would have scolded Billy for with no end in sight as you entered a familiar area close to your destination. Brimborn, the sign read as your car came to a halt. For a few moments, you stayed seated as a sense of wrongness crossed over your shoulders, but in the blink of an eye, it was gone and you were pulling your mother's writhing body out of your car trunk. She hit the floor with a dull thud, leaving behind a trail in the dirt as you pulled her inside and down the flight of rusted stairs until reaching the bottom.  

Shushing her whimpering you noted a streak of blood running from her head that you were the cause of. Your hand tentatively ran over her face. "No need to be afraid, Mom," you whispered. "I need you to stay still, okay?" A tear escaped her. You caught it with your forefinger and once more let out a shushing sound. "Don't cry. It's gonna be over soon." You pulled off the piece of tape on her mouth and stepped back. Unnatural snarling emerged from the darkest corner and your mother turned her head toward it slowly. The creature roared lowly in approval of what you had brought, its barely made legs bringing it forward as an arm extended from the gooey mass.

Your mother gave a scream of terror before the arm crept over her face and any noise stopped. Something like horror scratched at the back of your mind as you watched the scene and involuntary tears pooled at your waterline. The hint of emotion was snatched away then and you turned, going on about your day.

...

When reaching the Starcourt Mall, the sun was blazing high up in the sky. Sweat soaked your work uniform the second you stepped out of your car. Shielding your eyes you hurried inside, the sun burning on your skin as though someone was trying to brandmark you. Your shoulder rammed into someone making you stumbled as they complained and threw an insult your way. Looking forward you found a crowd of people in and outside the mall. Your breathing picked up; vision blurred and skin burning from the exposure to the sun.

Pushing open the glass door of the Orange Julius shop and headed straight for the back, ignoring your boss shouting after you that you were more than half an hour late. A few customers were seated out front and after making sure that everyone was served, he followed you. You ripped open the door to the walk-in-freezer, grabbing a few packs of ice which you held to your neck, trying to calm down the throbbing of your skin.

"Do you hear me?" His hand landed on your shoulder. Your head snapped up at the gruff voice of your boss. "One more time and you're fired."

"Build."

He turned to walk away and you followed with quick steps, grabbing one of the aprons of the hook used by only a few co-workers. You wrapped one end of the string around your hand as you jumped on his back and pulled it tightly against his neck. He stumbled and your feet landed on the floor, while his hands pulled at the fabric around his neck, but the strength you possessed was not your own. Soon his movements slowed and he, too, fell into unconsciousness. You bound his limbs using whatever you found and stuffed a rag into his mouth before pushing him into a storage closet.

Taking one of the stupid hats, you wiped some sweat from your forehead and placed the orange-shaped cap on your head before making your way to the front of the store. Two customers you served, expression bland and words sparse until Billy's sister entered the store.

Her smile was bright as her eyes landed on you. She greeted you happily and introduced you to her wide-eyed friend. It had been a while back since Max had thanked you for dating her brother. She said she had never seen him being less of an asshole and their relationship had taken on a civil level. You tried paying attention to what she was telling you but your eyes fell back to her friend. Something inside of you thought you recognized her as a feeling of anger and want for violence zipped through you. Hatred, you noted.

Her eyebrows twitched as she found you staring. Max's repeating of your name snapped you out of it. "You okay?" She questioned. You blinked at her before giving a short nod and making the order she had given you. Your eyes still resting on the girl, you watched as they skipped away hand in hand.

At the end of your shift, you put the chairs up on the table and gave the floor a quick sweep before you locked up and went to the back. Your boss – no longer unconscious – was begging and squirming, trying to free himself from the knots you had bound around his arms and legs. After making sure he hadn't loosened anything, you excited through the back entrance of the Orange Julius with him in tow. It was usually used for bringing in massive amounts of oranges and down the hallway was an elevator, big enough for you and Billy to have had some fun in it.

On the level below, you stepped out of the elevator, dragging your boss after you. It was so late, you were certain no one else would be back here, as you opened the door and pushed him outside. You left him there for the time being as you went to get your car from the parking lot. The area was almost completely empty, except for the car of the cleaning people, your own, and the blue Camaro beside it. Billy was leaning against it, a cigarette hanging from his lips. The second his eyes landed on yours, he plucked the smoke from his lips and threw it aside.

Your steps ceased, heart racing. Pressing your eyes shut, you shook your head. The whispers in your mind didn't stop their churning. Whirling around you moved away from him but he shouted after you, big steps hot on your heels. A hand wrapped around your wrist and he yanked you to face him.

The ringing in your ears exploded. "Build."

"No!" You shouted, ripping yourself away from him. With fists, you hammered against your head, the ringing hurting. A pressure engulfed your head, feeling as though it was bound to split open. You screamed, falling to your knees, head clutched in your hands. Billy was at your side, concern running through his body in a way he had never thought it possible as he gripped your shoulders and shouted your name, not knowing what else he could do.

"No, no, no," you continued to plead as the whispers within got louder. Determined you steadied your breath. "No," you stated once more and the whispers subsided, the ringing eased and the pressure on your mind vanished. You sobbed as he took your face in his hands, kneeling in front of you. "Please," you cried. "I don't want to hurt you. Leave...please, please."

He pulled you against his chest as you begged him to leave, your hand grasping his wrist to feel the throbbing of his pulse beneath his skin. You could feel how fast his heart was beating; scared for you. "What's wrong, baby?" he pressed again after you distanced yourself enough to look at his face. Billy wiped away your tears, eyebrows furrowed at what was going on with you. "C'mon, Y/n, talk to me."

"He... He is inside my head, Billy," you whimpered. "I didn't want to hurt them, I promise, he made me." Tears blurred your vision. "He made me hurt them," you repeated just as a sliver of the ringing returned. In panic, you pushed him back and scrambled to your feet. As he tried going after you, you held out your hand in warning. "Stay away from me."

He stepped forward again. The ringing picked up. "Y/n—"

"Leave!" You screeched and he halted in shock. "Leave me the fuck alone!"

"No!" He belted out. "I'm not just going to—"

"I don't want you here!" You shouted back at him; your heart breaking just a bit. "I don't want you." You swallowed hard as hurt flashed in his eyes. "Just leave!"

Whispers crept in. "Build."

His nostrils flared and you saw a hint of a nod as he flexed his jaw. Billy turned on his heels, returning to his car and slamming shut the door behind him. The Camaro roared to life and Billy sped out the parking lot with tires screeching in protest.

"Build." The hurting in your chest was gone. You cocked your head as you looked after the car for a second longer before returning to what you were told. Building.

At Brimborn you brought your boss down the metal stairs, ignoring his cries and please. You removed the rag from his mouth and shushed him, telling him the same thing you had told your mother. It would all be over soon. The thing in your mind stirred, sensing something that shouldn't be there. Following its senses, you turned, squinting your eyes at the blurred figure of a girl.

"Her." The thing seemed to whisper and you took a step closer. Just as you went to reach for her, she was gone. You stared after her as a vision clouded your eyes. The girl all by herself shutting it out. Locking it away before it was able to do what it came here to do.

When you got home that night, your father was just taking off his jacket, and turning on the TV. He greeted you, asking how your day was to which you barely gave a reply. You found your mother in the kitchen, a row of empty plastic bottles of cleaning supplies on the table. She turned to you with a smile and a tenderizer in one hand.

"Could I borrow your car, honey?" She asked and waited, straight-backed.

"Of course." You handed her the keys and she went into the living room, still smiling as she took her first swing at your father's head. Leaning against the door frame, you watched and as the ringing got louder you, too, found yourself smiling.

...

Later that evening a storm was raging over Hawkins and your mother had taken your father into the car and left, while you threw out the empty bottles. You took the bloody tenderizer from the sink and let the water run over it. Humming to yourself, you took the dish soap and a sponge and scrubbed at the metal kitchen tool.

"Y/n?"

Your humming halted before you turned off the water. "Max," you spoke questionably and faced the ginger girl. And her friend. "El, " you greeted and had to force yourself to look away from her. "What are you doing here?"

"Where is he?" The other girl spoke. Your eyes fell back onto El and the girl repeated her question. She knew.

"Who?" You inquired and smiled at them.

"Your bo-"

"Boyfriend!" Max interrupted, though you could see that was not what El had wanted to ask. "We were looking for Billy. I, uhm, was, uh, concerned. When he came home before he was really mad and, uh, kinda out of it. He left in a hurry and I thought that maybe he might be here?"

"No," you clicked your tongue and smiled. "But it is so nice to see you getting along like that. That you are concerned about him." Your gaze flickered to El. Challenging almost ere looking back to Max. "Oh, excuse me. Are you two thirsty? I might have some cherry coke in the garage."

"Uh, no, we should be going," Max said quickly. "Thanks though."

"Are you sure you want to go out in such terrible weather?"

"Oh, it's no problem. You know, since we live so close by."

"Do you want me to take you? I could take my father's car," you smiled as your fingers found the metal handle of the tenderizer in the sink behind you.

"No, thank you!" Max exclaimed and took El's hand. They passed by the couch and you noted Max slowing before picking up her pace again. You followed after them when they had closed the door and watched them leave from the window. When they were out of sight, you went up to the couch, taking the bloody cushion with you.

...

The next day you went on just the way you had done the day before; working and spending your break in the freezer and in the evening, you went home. You had hardly put down your keys when the telephone rang.

"Hello?" Your name was said, followed by a small whimper. Confused you tried placing the voice until it made click. "Max?" You questioned. "Is everything all right?"

"Billy," she sobbed. "He was really angry and started shouting." Another sob was heard. "He left me at the pool. No one's here. Can you come and pick me up, please? My mom is not answering the phone and I didn't know who else to call."

Ringing entered your ears which wasn't there before. "Build."

"Sure," you replied. "I'll be right there." Smiling you hung up the phone and picked up your car keys. And so, the building would go on.

When you arrived at the pool, you expected her to be standing outside, waiting for you. Instead, the gate of the pool was opened widely. Huffing, you turned off the car's engine and went inside. "Max?" You shouted as a door slammed shut in the direction of the showers. Once more you called out for her. When no answer came you went inside the building where the showers and lockers were located.

No later you could clearly make out sobs. Following the sound, you went past the shower stalls and past the lockers to the far back. You saw a light on in the sauna, the door, too, open. When you got closer, your gaze dropped to the hooded figure bundled up in the corner. Your worry for the young girl exceeded the ringing and whispers. "Max? Are you okay?" You hurried forward, putting a hand on her shoulder as you turned her toward you. Confused you stared into the face of a puppet. The sauna door slammed shut behind you.

You whirled around, eyes landing on a group of children. Including Max and El.

"Her," he whispered in your mind, trying to take away the confusion and worry, but you pushed him away.  

"Max?" You questioned; your voice unsure. "Why are you doing this?" Laying your hand on the door, you peeked out the window in the sauna's door – trying to focus on her, but he was so curious about her that you couldn't help the glances in El's direction.

"Do it," the blonde spoke then. A boy went forward at her command, turning up the heat. Anger flared up inside you which wasn't your own. You stumbled back as heat filled the small room, sitting on one of the benches. The room was quiet, filled with nothing but your labored breathing as sweat started soaking through your work uniform.

"Please," you whimpered desperately; your skin on fire. "Please, Max. It hurts." Your hands rubbed over your skin irritated, attempting to soothe the ache. "Please, it's too hot for him, Max. It's hurting him. Me. It hurts so much."

Max stepped up to the window. "It's too hot for whom?"

"The darkness," you whispered with a shuddering breath. "He is inside my mind, Max. He made me do so many bad things." Wiping away the sweat that was running into your eyes, you stood and moved toward the door. Your eyes flickered downward to where a web of blackness spread under your skin and his anger coursed through your insides.

A door slammed shut as a furious shout followed. Billy. Max turned toward her brother, gaping with a wide mouth. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I went to get my wallet and find you here with a group of boys? Is that what you have been doing, hm, Max? Do you th-" His eyes landed on you and all color drained from his face. "What the- Let her out!" He roared, pushing past the group of children and taking out the metal bar from the door handle.

"No, Billy, don't!" Max shouted and pushed aside her brother when he started fiddling with the metal chain working as an insurance lock.

"I feel him," another boy in the back spoke, but your hand had already balled into a first, slamming through the thick glass in one hit as you went for Max's throat. A sudden surge of unseen power slammed you back against the tiled wall. Landing on the ground, you gasped for air, nostrils flaring in fury as you pushed yourself to your knees.

Her. Nothing like you had ever felt circled through your veins as the lights all around you started flickering. The shadow loomed in and found root deeper than before; webs spread around your body fully. You roared, throwing yourself against the door with an unnatural force. From the outside you heard Billy's angry shouts at Max, demanding to know why and what they had done to you, before you threw yourself against the door a second time, the metal of the chain creaking. Stepping back, you heaved, and for the last time your body connected with the thick iron door. The chain snapped. You came face to face with her.

She screamed and you were ripped from her feet, back smashing into a wall, a barbell flying toward you; caging you. It pressed against your neck and again Billy shouted out in terror.

"Her." "Her." "Her."

Your hands pressed against the bar, teeth clenched tightly, as you pushed against the invisible force until it gave. You hurled the barbell toward the girl, throwing her to the floor. One of the boys rushed forward, a broken pipe in hand as he went to hit you, but Billy caught the pipe and pushed back the lanky boy. Grinning you stalked toward the girl. But before you could get there, she lifted her hand. In the blink of an eye, her nose started bleeding more and she yelled out in strain before flinging you aside with such a might, you broke through the brick wall.

Bones inside your body cracked, setting themselves back together as you lifted yourself onto your feet and ran. Ran to the place you knew safety awaited you. Brimborn. You gave a full report of what had happened, letting them know that now she knew about you. "She could have killed me."

Your mother brushed your forehead and nodded to the darkness. "But not us." Your eyes followed hers to the crowd of people – all of them him. "Not us."

You gazed past them all, at the body, he had built for himself as he straightened and roared. "It's time." You stood, which had your mother give you a questioning look. "She is a curious thing, that girl. She will come looking. And this time, I'll be ready." You walked home then, with no tiredness or muscle ache. Numbness filled your being as your body healed from the fight with the girl; the shadow made sure of it. In your room, you took a seat, grabbed a trashy magazine and waited.

It wasn't long until you felt it. Her; tucking at the strings of your mind as her voice carried through, distorted but there nonetheless.

Can you hear me? It echoed lowly. Can you show me what happened to you? Your eyes snapped up to her, your hand going for her arm. She gasped. The corner of your mouth lifted as you pushed her back and she fell into the depths of your mind. In concentration, you watched her cross through, allowing her a little insight into the past you had lived before she came to the turning point of it all; the day of the car accident and your big fight with Billy. You closed your eyes and waited for a moment - just as she was about to leave, open her mind back up, you lunched.

When your eyes opened you found yourself in the bedroom encased by wooden walls.

"Mike?" Her voice questioned in panic at the sudden emptiness.

"He can't hear you," you spoke dimly, stalking out of the room, causing her the take a few steps back. "You shouldn't have come looking for me. Because now..." You smiled even though you didn't want to do so. "I see you." You cocked your head eerily. "You let us in and now, you're going to have to let us stay." The more she distanced herself from you, the closer you tried to get. You fought to stop yourself, strained on the inside for some kind of power. "Don't you see? We've been building it." Bringing your left hand to your chest, a sighed. And below it all, not even your heartbeat was your own. Running at a pace too slow for any human being to survive. "All that work and now... it's time. Time to end it. And then, we are going to end you." The meaning behind the words sunk in, something that had been in the air, between the lines, from the first moment you – he – had laid eyes on her. There weren't many steps for her left to go, you noted, three more and she would be backed up against the kitchen's sink. "And when you're gone, we're going to end everyone." A tear trickled from your cheek, the only sign that whatever mind you possessed hadn't fully been canceled out by the giant shadow in the front of your mind. That you weren't him. Not yet.

"No!" She screamed and with one sharp tug, ripped herself from him, the way you hadn't been able to do, no matter how hard you had tried it.

Alone in your room, he didn't leave you alone like he usually did. Instead, there was something new he needed you for. You felt as the others joined him, became him, and went to find her. There was an unexplainable connection between the shadow and everyone he had taken. A pain that wasn't your own seized your body. You roared out in pain, gripping the duvet as you waited for the strange torture to end; and for your new mission to find its beginning. The abnormal net of darkness unfurled under your skin and you watched helplessly – caged inside your own mind - as it took over every inch of you. His intentions became your own and his drive for revenge moved you. Within seconds you were seated in your car, engine scorching as you followed the call of the hive mind.

He had fought her once more; you knew, somehow. She had won once more, though this time it was a close call, getting injured when trying to hold her ground – getting infected. And you followed that part of you, of them, of him, inside her being. Your car slowed to a stop outside Bradley's Big Buy, watching to see for any movement inside, though the shop seemed to be dipped in dead silence.

Directly upon setting foot inside the deserted space your gaze caught the flickering lights and the groceries strewn carelessly over the floors. You took a deep breath, plucking out the tinge of fresh blood in the air and following it. Gauze, half-empty water bottles, and other medical supplies were sitting on the floor surrounded by small puddles of glinting red liquid. Crouching down, your finger dipped into the enticing redness. Your breathing picked up as you rubbed it between your fingers; she.

"Close," the whisper echoed and dreadful, unfamiliar joy spread in your chest. "So close." Your eyes fell shut, concentrating on where they had moved on to. Leaving back the chaos, you took a seat behind the wall and hit the gas.

You screamed but no sound made it to the outside. His plan, now unfolded shamelessly in your mind, left you with little hope – little power. But as you screamed internally and the ringing was drowned out by the throat-ripping screech, your fingers on the steering wheel cramped up and a small trickle of blood flowed from your nostril.

The mall, even illuminated by countless signs so late at night, stood proud and new as you turned into the parking lot. The well-known blue Camaro stood aslant in one of the parking spots beside a car which you had seen Mrs. Wheeler take to the pool. Whistling you turned off the engine, stepping out and up to the closest car. As your hands went to tear open the hood of Billy's car, some sense of what was happening filled you, and your movements wavered for just a split second. The aluminum of the hood was pleasantly cool under your skin as you pried it open and ripped out what Billy had once explained to you to be the ignition cable.

Once more your actions slowed to a stop as a memory of you two flashed before your eyes. It was at the beginning of the school year after you had miserably failed the first math test of the season and were utterly certain you wouldn't be receiving your diploma with the rest of the class of '85. Billy had offered you a ride home, gave Max money for the arcade – which you had found incredibly odd – and had taken off at a pace too fast for the small people of Hawkins. You had gaped when he kidnapped you in the other direction of your home, refusing to answer any of your questions. Instead, he had given you a bright smile. "Can't have my baby frowning all day long," he had said and taken you to a diner far outside of Hawkins, pushing you to order anything you wanted and more. With four bags of take-out, the drive had continued to a quiet spot, where you spent the rest of the night sitting between his legs on the hood of this car.

"Have you ever seen the ocean, princess?" He had questioned out of nowhere, to which you shook your head, plucking at a cold fry. "I'm going to show it to you one day," he had promised. "Gonna show you everything you want to see."

Warm, salty droplets fell to your cheeks as you closed the hood and moved on to the Wheeler's car, ripping out the second cable to leave them trapped, too, inside a small space with nowhere to go. And God did you know the feeling.

...

Billy paced inside Starcourt Mall at a safe distance away from the group of freak kids and airhead Harrington with his parade of nobodies. You had levitated, he thought again, turning once more beside the unconscious Russians – or something -  to start his circling anew. His girlfriend had levitated and had been thrown through a wall of bricks and had continued running. The quick rundown of the shitshow going on behind the backs of Hawkins' citizens Maxine had involuntarily given him - after he was about to go out and search for you – did not help him understand shit.

"She is possessed!" Max had shouted after he hadn't stopped raging at her which had gotten him to shut up. Though only for a moment before he had started laughing at the absurdity of it all. "Billy!" Susan's daughter had stomped her foot and pulled his collar down, catching him off guard. He was about to grip her the same way, anger present on his face when she stared into his eyes. "She is in danger."

He had been forced to listen then, listen to the hundred possible ways you could die or could kill them, listen to what that thing – the Mind Flayer – was doing to you.

Wailing from behind him caused Billy to turn, finding the girl, whose name he couldn't remember, writhing on the ground. The other freak Byers was standing over her with a knife in hand and Billy blinked at the scene dumbly as all the other kids gripped the young girl to stop moving. Even he flinched as the older Byers made the cut, trying to pull something out of the wound with his fingers. The weird wonder girl took charge, screeching as she extended her hand and he watched unmoving as a piece of gooey mass was lifted out of the wound by some invisible hand. She flung it aside and he carried on speechlessly staring as the alive mass robbed forward on the floor.

A foot landed on the gooey thing. His eyes followed up the leg and beer belly to the familiar dickwit's face that had cost him more money than he had earned in the few weeks of being a lifeguard. Sheriff Hopper. To his right stood a lanky woman whom he had seen around town once or twice and on the sheriff's left someone that looked as though he belonged in the '70s porn industry.  

What the actual fuck was going on?

He sat on a bench, head reeling. Face planted in his hands his breathing was uneven, heartbeat thumping irritatingly in his ears. You might die. A voice reminded him. Yet again he might lose someone he loved. His chest ached. You might die and he hadn't kept any of his promises. He had made you cry the last time you had been yourself, hadn't taken what you had said too seriously. Instead, he had hidden that he cared so much for you that he didn't know how to handle himself and had taken it for granted.

At the end of the night, he might not ever get another chance with you ever again.

"Billy!" Max called out and when he looked up, half of the group was gone and the ones that were left were trying to carry the girl to the outside. He wiped at the wetness in his eyes and joined them wordlessly.

...

Your attention picked up as a group of people left the mall and your smile faded, hidden in your car by the darkness of the night when you didn't catch sight of her in their midst. The engine of your car gave a loud howl after they had seated themselves in the Wheeler's car, while Billy went to his beloved Camaro; their head snapping toward you as the lighting of your floodlights blinded them. In vain they tried starting their cars only for both Jonathan and Billy to hastily pop their hoods.

The grin on your face returned at the dread in theirs as they hurried back into the mall, the place they thought to be safe. And you stayed back. Silent and waiting. As he entered proximity your skin prickled. With unblinking orbs, you watched as he climbed onto the full height of Starcourt Mall and broke through the glass roof. Your eyelid twitches, hearing its frustrated roars and screeches until out of nowhere, the group of kids poured from the back door, dashing for the car.

Your foot pressed down and once more the engine bellowed. Nancy Wheeler lifted a handgun with the precise aim as though she had done so all her life and took her first shoot. The bullet hit the windshield, splintering it, as it went past your shoulder. Fear settled into your bones. Your very own. And the next bullet hit.

Not able to witness the scene playing out in front of him, Billy gripped Nancy's arm, trying to wrangle the gun from her grasp and suddenly your car took off in their direction. Your heart rate skyrocketed no matter how much he tried to control it as you saw the headlights reflect in Billy's glassy eyes. Not able to stop it, your eyes fell shut, blood seeping down to your lips; your mouth filling with the metallic flavor.

The breath was wrung from your lungs as you flew to the side, head smashing against the car window. A male screech of your name faintly entered your ears but your limbs felt too heavy to lift, mind too foggy to respond. Your car door was ripped open and you fell. No harsh floor collided with your side, instead, you were engulfed in a loving embrace.

You didn't need to see his face to know who it was that even after everything you had done, tried to keep you safe. A sob fell from your lips out loud and no longer locked inside. "I told you to leave," you whimpered and the shadow loomed over your shoulder.

"When have I ever done what you told me?" He joked, choking on his words.

"Please," you cried. "He is coming. And I don't think this time he is going to go away again." You kept repeating your please as Billy's arm slid beneath your knees about to pick you up when your gaze caught hers. In one flash, each vein in your body was dipped in black and Billy gasped as you swung him aside. You rose to your feet, no matter how many broken bones were left in your body. They ran and you followed them into the back entrance of the mall.

The lights flickered as you followed the sound of reverberating footsteps in the emptiness of the halls until you a bolt of ginger hair rounded the corner. Max turned to you, eye flitting to her friends still struggling to get away. "Y/n, please, stop," she begged. "Remember! You are Y/n, you let me stay at your house when my parents fight. You love Billy no matter what shit he pulls. Please, remember- I'm Max and you treat me like your little sis—"

With no remorse, no hesitation you had smashed her head into the wall and brought your focus back to her. The lanky boy you flicked aside with no strength needed whatsoever, his head hitting against waterpipes. The girl threw out her hand and you felt the pressure of her powers, though before she had time to react, you gripped her head and pushed it back against the wall. Unconscious, she fell. You took a hold of her feet and dragged her into the elevator and into the center of all shops. Presenting her to him. Kneeling you leaned toward her ear.

"No need to be afraid," you spoke. "I need you to stay still. It's gonna be over soon." Her eyelids fluttered open and snarling he turned. You stood and watched as an arm broke loose from the mass and dove for her. Before it could reach her, an explosion rang through the mall, and a torturing burning spread across your back. You fell to your knees, screeching in sync with the creature as explosion after explosion hit. The girls scrambled away and you just so managed to grasp at her ankle and pull her back.

Arms slung around you from behind, rendering you unable to move as you trashed in the embrace you had always found to be a safe place. "Help her!" Billy cried out to the girl still laying on her back on the floor.

"I—" She scrambled to her feet at his anguished tone. Her eyes bore into yours as she tried to find a way, her powers as good as gone from the strain of having to fight him off. "Tell her," she spoke after a heartbeat of recalling what she had seen in your head when wandering through your memories. "Of the night you met her parents. Her happiest memory."

With one straining grunt, he forced your trashing form against the dirt-covered floor, caging you with his body; your wrists in his hands pressed beside your head.

"Graduation night," he started. "You were going crazy because you thought your parents would kill you for having a boyfriend." He grinned through the throbbing in his chest, recalling that night. "You remember how your dad's face dropped when you brought me into the kitchen?" He chuckled. "And your mom... she just knew all along, didn't she?" A tear dropped from his eye, hitting your cheek. "I heard her, you know? When your dad took me out back for a man-on-man talk. What she said." You writhing ceased at that. "She told you she knew that look on your face. Because it was the look she wore when she decided she would marry your dad." He laughed then. "And when I asked you what you two talked about, you turned so red you looked like a tomato. And that's when I thought she had to be right because I couldn't see myself with anyone else but you." His hand let go of your wrists, encircling your cheeks, while his thumb tenderly cleaned away the blood on your face. He brought his forehead against your icy one and for the first time in so long you longed for warmth.

You wept as you pressed closer to him, drowning out the screeches of a dying creature, as that thing inside you lending you its power vanished and you were left to feel what was broken. "Everything hurts," you cried. "I don't wanna die, Billy."

"No, no, no." He shook his head furiously. "You won't, you won't." Billy looked around at the strewn kids and teenagers, cradling you closer. "Someone get a fucking ambulance!"

From the outside light flooded the mall as soldiers equipped heavily with different kinds of weaponry stormed in. Sirens of ambulances and firetrucks sounded. More and more people rushed in, as someone loaded you onto a stretcher and Billy thanked every god from above and below for the chance to fulfill his promises to you.

...

One year later

"You're holding it wrong," Billy complained as you sushed him. His hand went out but you dodged out of the way, smacking his fingers. "We're going to end up driving off a cliff," he huffed to himself.

"You concentrate on driving," you stated stubbornly. "I'll handle this."

"But you are holding it wrong!"

"Maybe you just have no sense of direction."

"I might not but I know for sure that the N for North isn't supposed to be at the bottom!"

Your eyes fell to the bottom of the map, where indeed an N stood on its head. "I just have a different way of reading maps," you declared but he drove to the side of the road nonetheless, where there was a designated spot for stopping.

"Gimme."

You pouted, reluctantly handing him the map. He turned it the right way around, giving you a triumphing side-eye as you leaned over with a roll of your eyes, placing your hands on his shoulder. "You know what?" He hummed in question and you continued. "I want to visit every art museum on the way and look at paintings I don't understand the meaning of and I want to speak to people who know lots about lots."

"Any other wishes?"

You bit your lips, trying to keep your smile at bay. "I want you to teach me how to surf, meaning you'll need to save me from drowning several times. That's it for now." You sighed. "I can't wait to see the ocean."

He smiled, taking your right hand and pressing a kiss to it, as his thumb tenderly grazed the diamond-studded ring there, and he looked at you like you were the only thing worth having eyes for. "I'm gonna show you everything you want to see."

[spencerdaze]

'Barbie' is a transgender masterpiece

I'm going to go away from my usual clown related content for this post, but i've watched Barbie twice now, and aside from the movie painting a beautiful portrait about men's rol in feminism as well as reivindicating being a mother is ok, the movie has proven to be a transgender masterpiece in many ways, just like Barbie as a figure! Buckle up because this is going to be a long, long post.

For startes, fashion dolls, and specifically Barbie as the most important of them, has been a queer icon more than a feminist icon. Feminism has distanced itself from Barbie as a figure because her representation of womanhood was faulty (something i disagree on, since Barbie was a powerful successful woman who didn't let that make her not be interested in fashion and other feminine hobbies and interests!!), but the queer community has, i feel, a different appreciation for Barbie as a character and doll. Gay men, drag queens and transfemme folks mostly share memories of playing with Barbie and dreaming, via the doll, about the lifes we could have as adults. Barbie was a very important role for many drag queens who loved the glamour and fashion, it helped gay men relate to female friends who where more friendly and safe (usually although not always) than other boys, and it helped us trans women and femme enby folks to distance ourselves from the masculinity society tried to force on us. Barbie has also proven to be an icon for lesbians since, i mean, nobody ever bought a Ken doll, and even for some trans men who used Barbie dolls transitioned into boy dolls to enact heteroromantic fantasies! The union between Barbie and feminism is a faulty one, and i can't blame the feminist movement for it, but the relationship between Barbie and the queer community is very real and strong. It's no surprise that many trans women and drag queens use the term 'doll' to refer to themselves, or that Ken has always been a sort of feminine and, let's be honest, queer man.

So how is the new Greta Gerwig Barbie movie transgender ? Well, Barbie herself, as a protagonist, is such a real transfemme experience! Barbie moves from Barbieland to the real world, learning what it really is to be a woman in the real life world of California, much like many trans women have to look at the world around them to learn and internalize their new lifes at the beginning of their transitions. Barbie also says, explicitly, that she doesn't have a vagina, or genitals, and by the end of the movie she decides to turn into a human, and goes to her gynecologist, which implies she went from not having a vagina to having one. Isn't this the most trans thing ever ?? Of course there are some problematic implications in this reading of the movie, because Barbie turns into 'a real woman' and gets a vagina, which is not what being a real woman is, but i also think this is a very powerful messaging. Consider also some minor details like the fact the color palette used for Barbie is one with blue and white added to her always bright Barbie Pink, which isn't odd since Barbie has used this combo before, but it cannot be a coincidence. Barbie going from a hyperfeminine woman to a more laidback woman is also very parallel to a lot of trans women's experiences, since many of us behave and are hyperfeminine from an early stage in our transitions because of dysphoria but then we become more comfortable in ourselves and realize that we don't own anyone hyperfemininity (even though i am, still, a hyperfeminine woman, but it's more in my own terms of femininity!!) Of course, we also have Hari Neff, a trans actress, as a Barbie in Barbieland, which is amazing, and in one scene we see that, in the Mattel headquarters, there's a small transgender sign in the wall, which is subtle, but still there.

This movie has so many queer undertones and experiences, showing Ken dolls that were queer coded in the market like Magic Ring Ken and also proving how patriarchal relationships between men are very homoerotic in a way, which is shown in how Ken interacts with other Kens and viceversa. Weird Barbie is also a very much queer character, being played by a lesbian actress, and i feel like the movie is so campy and has such an aesthetic that reminds us of queer movies like But I'm a Cheerleader. We also have to aknowledge the references to big queer favourite and queer films like Matrix and Wizard of Oz. I think this reading of the movie is definetly plausible and i hope to hear some of your thoughts!

[revenant-coining]

80srolrinpattec

[PT: 80srolrinpattec /End PT]

[ID: a rectangular flag with 6 equally-sized horizontal lines and a thick line in the middle. colors in this order from top to bottom: red-pink, pink, grey, purple, grey, light green, green. /End ID]

requested by anon

80srolrinpattec: a gender connected to 80s roller rink carpet patterns.

Etymology: 80s, rol(ler), rin(k), patt(ern), “ec” meaning from/deriving from

@radiomogai

[ID: a dark blue line divider. /End ID]

[willowser]

edit to add: it's because of this incredible fanart that i got this brainworm

no bc i need to talk about this, like i'm NOT DONE like bakugou as your next door neighbor !! since you were a child !! and it's a nice neighborhood and his parents seem well adjusted and have clean-cut professional jobs and hold dinner parties with your parents and they're always bringing something delicious for the neighborhood new year's get together.

BUT THEIR SON IS A LITTLE HELLION. the kid that had a mohawk in middle school and made fun of you for not using cuss words until you were like 13. and he's not a bad kid, bc he still is at the top of all his classes and never breaks the law or anything -- but he comes to school after his 16th birthday with a piercing through the middle of his lip and the clothes he wears are black and baggy and he drives an old beat up, cherry red shelby mustang and you're pretty sure he got the tattoo on his forearm before he was 18.

and your dad is like. absolutely not. don't even look at that boy. can't even be caught dead with him.

you've been neighbors for almost your entire life, but it's not like you're really friends. hung out together when there was no one else and your dad was too busy talking about the upcoming season for fishing and golfing to notice. your mom doesn't mind so much bc he's really not terrible, just a wicked little brat, and the week he started playing the drums, nobody in a five mile radius got any sleep. still blares music with open windows and turns it up even louder when you wave at him from across the lawn to shut up.

at graduation, he accepts his diploma -- summa cum laude, of course, the little shit -- and almost gets kicked off stage for sticking his tongue out in the picture. wears all this smudged liner under his eyes and gels his hair out at a million different angles. bc he's the WORST. and your parents try to throw a combined graduation party bc it's easier to plan, but of course bakugou could care less. doesn't even show up until the very end, after most of everyone is gone. counts all the money from the congrats grad! cards he got and then tells you,

"'m gettin' the fuck out of here after this."

you don't think he means the party.

"hate this shit," he grumbles, and you're surprised that he's even talking to you. in his backyard, in front of the beautifully built fire pit for those cold fall nights. it's still hot in june, but he lit it out of spite, bc he doesn't mind the heat. "never gonna be like these fuckin' losers, worried about what everyone else thinks of me 'n shit. oh the HOA will be upset if we decorate the lawn with skeletons, fuck you."

it makes you laugh--he kind of always does, with how crass he can be--and he looks at you, sitting in the wicker chair beside him. he looks like he's glowing in the fire light, liner looking even darker with the shadows on his face. he's traded the stud in his lip for a little hoop in his septum, another in his eyebrow almost hidden in his hair.

"know your ass is gonna stick around here," he says it like an accusation, frowning. "gonna fuckin'--look for some prince charming, tuxedo mask douchebag. shack up and buy a house in the hills or somethin'."

"maybe," you shrug, earning a scoff from him. now that high school is over, the future seems so--open ended. you thought you'd be prepared by now, after all that your parents have tried to instill in you since elementary school, but. you don't know. maybe you don't want to go to law school. "or maybe i'll--join a rock band. dye my hair pink and split my tongue, or something."

you stick your tongue out for emphasis and he watches you closely, sticking his own out in response. when you laugh again, he shuffles in his seat and looks away.

"whatever." bakugou snorts, "you don't know the first thing about bein' in a band. i'd have to teach you everything."

"oh, you think you could?"

"hell yeah," he grins, wicked, all sharp teeth and sin. "learn from the fuckin' master."

"oh my god," you roll your eyes, but smile at him anyway. his eyes dart down to the curve of your lips, the apple of your cheeks, and then he's looking away again. speaking into the fire instead.

"i mean i guess i could, if you wanted, or whatever." the only fully painted fingernail remaining on his left hand is his pinky, and he picks at with interest. "if you--wanna come with me, not like i give a shit."

you try to picture it, you and him. katsuki. in the passenger seat of his car with nothing but clothes in a backpack, money stuffed in your pockets. wherever he's going--you don't even know--but it couldn't be too bad, with him. stopping in a motel when the driving gets old, buying snacks to feed him so he doesn't have to take his eyes off the road. he could be there when you get your first tattoo, and even though he'd make fun of you no matter what you choose, you don't think there's anyone else you would want there but him.

"when are we leaving?" you ask it to the sky, open and unending. dark and dazzling just like him.

from the corner of your eye, you can see him look at you for a long time before he snorts again, soft. disappointed, almost, because he knows it could never be. your fate has already been sealed, molded, starting from the day you moved in next door, and no matter how much you'd love to throw caution to the wind and follow him--it's just a dream.

"first thing tomorrow," he murmurs, and your heart thumps harder in your chest. so violent that it hurts. when you look at him, his face is turned up to the sky, too. "don't be late."

[stingraywipe]

Hey! Here's a little thing I wrote for @sincerely-sofie 's The Present is a Gift AU with her characters Twig and Kip. I wanted to get it out sooner, but alas life happened and I was unable to work on it as much as a wanted to. This is also the first time I've done any sort of creative writing in years, so hopefully it isn't too bad. Anyways, here it is! I hope you like it :)

The Sunrise

It was dawn when Kip woke up. It was rather early and he was still tired, but he rolled out of bed to go check on Twig. He knew she probably wanted her space, but he couldn’t help worrying about her more than usual after the previous few days’ events. He yawned and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then quietly cracked open the door of Twig’s room. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that she wasn’t there. He rubbed his eyes again to make sure he was seeing right. Yup. Twig wasn’t there. Feeling panic begin to set in, Kip took a moment to breath and recollect himself.

“Calm down, there’s NO need to be freaking out about this,” he thought. “Twig likes going on walks when she needs to clear her head, or if she wants to be alone to think on something. She’s probably just doing that. She’s been through a ton the past few days, so it makes sense that she would want to do that. She’ll probably be back here soon.”

Despite knowing that, Kip decided to make a quick check outside anyway. He was already pretty awake after the initial shock of Twig’s absence, and taking a look couldn’t hurt. Maybe he could watch the sunrise while he was out there. He hadn’t done that in a while, and it would be a good way to unwind for a bit after the stress of the past week.

Apparently Twig had the same idea, because she was already sitting near the edge of the cliff looking off into the distance. She was visibly ok, and even seemed less tense than she had been recently. Despite this, Kip felt the need to make sure she was actually fine. He knew too well how Twig feels the need to hide anything that ails her from everyone no matter how serious it is, so it was going to take more than just visual evidence to convince him.

“How’ve you been holding up?” Kip asked as he approached. Twig jumped a little and spun her head around, relaxing again once she realized it was just him.

“Jeez dude, you scared me! Did you have to sneak up on me like that?”

“Oh no, I didn’t mean to startle you!” Kip responded. He hurried over to where Twig was and sat down next to her. “I just wanted to check up on how you were doing. I saw you weren’t in you room and I-”

Twig cut him off. “Relax man, I’m just giving you a hard time.” She gave him a playful punch to the arm. “And, umm. I’ve definitely been better. I think I’ve cried more than enough for an entire lifetime over the past few days. Maybe even two lifetimes. I didn’t even know fire types were capable of producing that much water.”

Kip chuckled at that. “Yeah, but it needed to happen, you know. That’s what you get for being silly and stupid and somehow convincing yourself that none of us like you.”

Twig sighed. “I know, I know, you’re right. It doesn’t mean I have to like it though. It’s physically AND mentally exhausting.”

“I feel you there. I feel worn out, and I haven’t cried anywhere near as much as you!”

“Yup. I totally have you beat.”

Kip gave her a baffled look. “Are you seriously bragging about how you’ve cried more than me?”

“I sure am. I gotta take my wins when I can get ‘em.”

He burst out laughing at that. “Well, if your jokes are anything to go off of, I’d say you’re holding up pretty well. Seems to me like the funny Twig I know and love is finally starting to come back. I guess I was worried about nothing.”

Twig shrugged. “I guess.” 

Neither one of them said anything else for a while. They sat in silence and watched the sun slowly climb higher on the horizon. It was one of the sunrises with lots of pink mixed in with the oranges and yellows; the kind that Twig loved the most. The sea below them glistened like gemstones, with rolling waves that shimmered in the bright light. Kip had almost forgotten how beautiful the sunrise was at Sharpedo Bluff. Sure, he could watch the sunrise when he was away on his expedition, but they just weren’t the same there as they were here. Besides, he was with Twig now, which made it even better.  

Kip smiled. “I missed this,” he murmured.

“Missed what?” Twig asked.

“This. Watching the sunrise with you. Going on walks. Just talking. You know, enjoying the little things in life with you.”

“Dude, you know you can still do those things without me right?”

“I guess, but they wouldn’t be the same. You’re what makes them special.”

They were both quiet for a bit. Twig was first to speak again. “Dang, I really messed up a lot of stuff with my dumb thoughts then. Sorry about that.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop apologizing for that!?” Kip responded. “None of us blame you for any of that stuff. If anything, it’s MY fault for not doing anything sooner despite seeing through all of your terrible lies. Besides, it’s in the past now. All we can do is focus on what we can do now, in the present.”

“I guess you’re right.” she said. “You know dude, if you really wanted to hang out with me THAT badly, you could’ve just asked.”

“Ok, noted. You’d better be prepared for lots of requests then if that’s what it’s gonna take.” Kip glanced over at Twig. Her expression was a bit troubled, as if she was contemplating something he had said. Seeing that, he nudged her and spoke again. 

“You know I meant it right? What I said before.” 

Twig turned her head to look at him. “What? The part about how me being there somehow makes things better?”

“Yeah, that one. I want to make sure that sticks with you, because you seem to be quick to forget it. You’re an amazing person. I know it’s hard for you to see it right now, but we all really do care for you more than you could imagine. And it doesn’t matter how long it takes you to convince yourself of all that, because all of us are happy to remind you as many times as it takes. Nothing you think or say or do will ever change that.”

Twig’s eyes started watering at that. “Seriously dude,” she croaked. “I was just complaining about how I was tired of crying. Did you really have to go and make me-”

Kip pulled her into a hug, cutting her off. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Twig. You always will be. Please don’t ever forget that.”

They stayed like that for a while. Kip held Twig there for as long as she needed to cry. After a bit, Twig slowly pulled away and took a moment to wipe the tears out of her eyes and regain her composure. 

“You good now?” Kip asked her.

“Yeah, I think so. I think I actually feel a bit better than before, funny enough.” She shifted her gaze back to the horizon, where the sun had climbed a bit higher over the ocean. They sat there quietly, simply enjoying each other’s presence. For the first time in a while, it seemed as if everything was truly at peace. 

Twig eventually broke the silence. “You know what? I missed this a lot too. This is nice.”

“Yeah,” Kip said, nodding in agreement. “This is nice.”

[thenigotthisfamily]

Teasing and Traps

Notes: I haven’t written very much recently since I’ve had a lack of inspiration, however @widowsistersandfriends has been asking for this fic for a long time and I have to say, it was very fun to write. Thank you for always making me laugh. 💙💙💙 

Summary: Natasha meets a shy yet stubborn doctor who she can’t resist messing, and flirting, with.

Words: 2844

Natasha groans as she blinks and takes in her surroundings. She hears the familiar beeps of medical devices around her and glares at the IV stuck in her arm. She’s still in her uniform, but it’s ripped apart on her left side where there is now a large bandage that is already soaked through with blood. There’s no one in the room currently, but by the looks of it, there had been plenty of surgeons there very recently.

Shit. Natasha thinks as she slowly recalls what happened. Her and Clint were on a routine mission in London when someone threw a grenade out of nowhere. The last thing she remembered was Clint yelling her name.

Shit. Yelena was going to kill her. She’s honestly surprised the blonde wasn’t there already.

The Black Widow yanks the IV out of her arm and moves to try to stand. She curses and holds her side, feeling some of the stitches stretch.

A young doctor rushes in. “Ms. Romanoff you really shouldn’t move.” The woman tries to gently push the Avenger back onto the bed.

Natasha cocks her eyebrow at the woman as if surprised someone had dared to try to make her stay. The doctor blushes a bit and looks away, turning to a computer.

“33 stitches in your left side. You lost a lot of blood. Likely a concussion as well.”

“Is that all?” Natasha mumbles.

The woman hesitates. “And you have a large gash under your right…breast.”

Natasha smirks at the pinkness that creeps onto the doctor’s face, deciding to have a little fun. “Seems like you examined it closely...Pam.” Natasha reads the nametag on the doctor’s coat.

The doctor scoffs, quickly looking away from the Black Widow’s smirk. “Don’t flatter yourself Ms. Romanoff. You’re just another patient.”

“Hmm do you bully your other patients right away too then? Or are you usually more charming?”

Pam rolls her eyes and sighs, but the widow can see the blush still on the woman’s cheeks. “I’ll have you know that I am very charming.” It comes out as more of a pout than she wanted, and the redhead looks at her skeptically. She huffs.

“Get back on the bed.” Pam tries to say it in the most demanding tone she can muster which still isn’t that demanding.

The redhead smirks yet again, much to the other woman’s annoyance, but walks back to the bed and sits down.

“Good girl.” The doctor says without thinking. Quickly flushing as she realizes how she just talked to the Black Widow of all people.

Natasha chuckles lowly at that. “I am good.”

The other woman flushes against her will, annoyed at the affect the Avenger was having on her. But she wasn’t going to back down. “Yet here you are.” Pam points to the large bandage on Natasha’s side. “With me. So can’t be that good.”

Natasha’s lips twitch upward, “Being with you isn’t so bad.”

Pam huffs, “I beg to differ.” Though she quickly looks away in embarrassment, something that is not lost of the redhead.

“Well in that case, I’m sorry you didn’t get a different Avenger in your hospital instead. Perhaps you’d find Tony more charming.”

The doctor sighs and rolls her eyes, “You’re plenty charming Ms. Romanoff.”

Natasha grins at that, “So you admit this isn’t so bad.”

The woman huffs, annoyed at herself and the situation. She turns sharply on the Avenger and holds up her hand.

“One. I would’ve much preferred Captain America.” Natasha can tell the doctor fully doesn’t mean it but raises an eyebrow. “Two. I don’t think you’re charming, I was just being polite.” Natasha tries to hide her laugh at that ridiculous lie. “And Three. I don’t appreciate being led into traps.”

“Oh I didn’t lead you there.” Natasha quickly responds with a grin. “You just walked in all by yourself.”

The doctor rolls her eyes, trying to busy herself and pack up her things to leave even though her shift doesn’t end for another half hour. She was really done with the annoyingly attractive Avenger.

Natasha barely surprises a chuckle, knowing what the doctor is trying to do. “But if you want to see Steve so bad, I’m sure I could arrange that for you.”

“No thanks, I’ve had my fill of Avengers already and I’m really not looking to date.”

“Woah, I didn’t say anything about a date.”

The woman flushed. “It was implied.”

“So, you would date an Avenger.”

“I just said I wasn’t looking to date!”

It doesn’t even sound convincing to Pam as she says it, and she avoids looking at the smirk she knows is on the redhead’s face.

“So…I guess I shouldn’t ask you out on one then.”

The doctor almost gets whiplash with how fast she looks back at the widow. She immediately regrets it but tries to steel her features. She wasn’t going to give in that easy. “Not everyone so easily falls for your charm Ms. Romanoff.”

“Ah, so I am charming.” The redhead’s eyes glint.

The doctor glowers, even as a blush creeps up her neck and cheeks for the millionth time in this interaction. She’s about to respond with another insult when a blonde woman bursts into the room. For once, the doctor is grateful for an interruption in her work. She didn’t want to embarrass herself more that day. Plus, she needed to go process the fact that she had sort of almost been asked out by the Black Widow.

“Poser!” Yelena yells harshly. Natasha winces at the tone and turns away from the attractive doctor. She knew her sister would be upset.

“I didn’t see the grenade-” Natasha begins to defend herself.

“You’re a spy how could you not see it?”

“Someone threw it out of nowhere!”

“Grenades don’t just come out of nowhere!”

“It’s not like you’ve never been hit by a grenade before!”

“I’m the younger sibling!”

“How does that make any difference!?”

The two sisters glare at each other for a minute while the doctor just glances back and forth between the two wondering if she should leave or if she will need to get between the two sisters. She figures she probably wouldn’t be very successful at stopping them from fighting.

After a minute though Yelena’s features soften, and she wraps the redhead in a tight hug that Natasha quickly returns. They start talking in Russian and the doctor suddenly feels like she’s intruding so she moves to quietly slip out.

“I’ll talk to you later?” Natasha’s voice stops her in her tracks. The doctor bites her lip. She had been so close to escaping.

“If you can find me.” The doctor chuckles a bit before rushing out of the room, trying to hide yet another blush and process everything that just happened.

——————

“What are you doing Poser?”

“Nothing!” Natasha puts down her phone much too quickly.

Yelena grins and grabs the device before the redhead can stop her. “Hey!”

The blonde looks curiously at her sister. “Who’s this?”

“No one.”

“Ooooo I recognize her. The doctor that was there last week.” Yelena grins. “Looks like someone’s got a crush.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, trying to fight back her embarrassment. “I don’t.”

“Then why do you have like 20 tabs open of different articles about her.”

“I was just doing…recon.”

“Uh huh.” Yelena tosses the phone back. “Why don’t you just text her instead of being a creepy stalker.”

Natasha huffs, “I don’t have her number.”

“You didn’t get it at the hospital?”

“No.” Natasha mutters. “She was kind of…stubborn.”

Yelena grins. “I like her.”

The redhead rolls her eyes.

“Text her.” Yelena points at the phone demandingly.

“What? I don’t have her number.”

“Aren’t you a super spy?” Yelena huffs.

“I thought you didn’t want me to be a stalker.”

The blonde rolls her eyes. “You already found her on Instagram. Just dm her.”

“Fine.”

Natasha pauses for a moment, wondering what to say. She settles on something and types it out.

“Hey Pam?!” Yelena reads over her shoulder. “I thought the great Black Widow would have better pickup lines.”

Natasha gives her sister a sharp shove on the couch and goes to continue her conversation privately, ignoring the blonde’s laughter and teasing behind her.

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

Pam frowns in her apartment as she sees a dm from a virtually empty profile. She almost blocks it, but something makes her respond. “Who is this?”

“The most charming Avenger. Did you miss me?”

Pam’s stomach flips as she looks at the text. She could practically see the smirk on Natasha’s face. She quickly types out a response. “Took you long enough to find me.”

“I was just giving you time to rethink your stance.”

“My stance?”

“On dating an Avenger.”

The doctor flushes but feels excitement in her chest. She honestly didn’t think Natasha would reach out again after the day at the hospital. “Depends on the date.”

“Oh, I assure you it won’t disappoint.”

The doctor shakes her head with a smile. “Prove it.”

Natasha grins at that. “I will. Tomorrow at 7pm.” She sends an address to meet at.

“How do I know you aren’t some stalker?”

“Don’t worry. It’s a very public place we’re meeting. And if it helps you verify who I am. You told me the other day I have a cut under my right…breast. 😉”

Pam can’t help but giggle to herself at the memory, feeling relieved that she knew for sure it was Natasha she was talking to. “Fine. I’ll see you there.”

—————

“You stole my color.”

Pam whips around to come face to face with Natasha Romanoff, dressed in black jeans and a black jacket, similar to the outfit Pam was wearing. Pam smiles but looks away shyly. It felt weird just meeting with the Black Widow normally outside of work, especially as a date.

“Don’t worry. It suits you.” Natasha grins.

Pam blushes but finds her voice. “So where are you taking me? I’m expecting this date to be top notch.”

Natasha smiles, “There’s a smoothie place nearby I’ve really been wanting to try.”

The doctor giggles out loud at that. “The great Black Widow likes smoothies? That’s so cute.”

Natasha pouts a little at that which just makes her cuter. “My sister loves them and consequently got me into them.”

“Cuttee.” Pam playfully teases the widow.

The redhead rolls her eyes and bumps the doctor’s shoulder, making her turn away to hide her blush.

Natasha gets their smoothies, and they sit in a booth. “So, tell me about yourself Pam.”

“You know, it’s weird to hear you call me by name.”

“What would you like me to call you?”

“I don’t know, it’s just weird. But anyway, I’m just a doctor.”

“No you’re not. You just graduated recently. Top marks. And you played softball in college.” Natasha rambles on, not really thinking about her words.

“Wow, stalker much?” But there’s a softness to Pam’s voice.

The redhead looks slightly embarrassed. “Sorry, force of habit. It’s cool you played softball though. Seems like you were the best on your team.”

“Only because everyone else was not good.” Pam says easily. “But I want to hear about you. What’s under that tough shell of the Black Widow?”

Natasha rolls her eyes at that, but the two women fall into easy and deep conversation that goes on for hours. By the end of the date, Pam has seen a softer side of the Black Widow that she never imagined existed. The widow even had a plushie puppy from her sister that she holds when she’s sad. If that isn’t adorable, she’s not sure what is.

The two women continue to talk over text the next few weeks until Natasha finally asks Pam out for real. Pam can’t remember the last time she felt so excited yet shy when she got the handwritten letter from the redhead asking her to be her girlfriend.

As time goes by, Pam feels more and more comfortable with her girlfriend, yet there is one secret she’s still been hiding from Natasha. But a few weeks into them officially dating, the secret comes out.

It starts when they’re on the couch in Natasha’s room at the compound watching a Disney movie. Natasha’s arm is around Pam’s shoulders and she’s lightly tracing her arm when suddenly the doctor flinches.

Natasha jerks back, “Sorry, did I hurt you?”

Pam shakes her head, “No it’s okay, you can put your hand back.” She shifts slightly, trying to shake off the feeling.

The redhead looks skeptical but puts her arm back slowly. It’s only a few minutes later though that Pam twitches again. “What is going on?” Natasha looks at the woman curiously.

“Nothing!” Pam squeaks, cheeks starting to burn.

Natasha’s eyes narrow. Pam gulps. Shit.

“Wait…are you ticklish?” The mischievous grin that lights up Natasha’s face at the realization sends shivers down Pam’s spine.

“N-N-no.”

“Hmm let’s test that statement then shall we?”

Pam tries to move but Natasha pounces on her quickly. The redhead’s fingers are everywhere. They poke into Pam’s sides, making her giggle like a little kid. They scribble over her ribs, making her breathless from laughing. They trace up to Pam’s underarms, causing the doctor’s eyes to widen in panic. Not there! The black widow just smirks and tickles Pam’s underarms relentlessly.

“NoooNoonoo HEHEHEHE STOPPP NO! HEY! HEHEHEH NOOOOO!” Pam giggles uncontrollably and squirms around, trying to get out of the redhead’s reach. But it’s futile. Natasha is too strong, and Pam is weakened by the tickles all over.

“This is a great finding.” Natasha grins as her fingertips glide over Pam’s stomach. “Let’s find your most ticklish spot.”

“No!” Pam’s eyes go wide as she flushes in embarrassment. But she can’t do anything to stop the treacherous path of the redhead’s fingers.

When Natasha reaches Pam’s neck the doctor squirms and tries to pull away as much as possible. Her neck was an especially sensitive spot, but unfortunately Natasha figured this out. The redhead laughs deviously as she lightly crawls her fingers over Pam’s neck and behind her ears, finding a sensitive spot which makes the woman squeal.

“Noooo STOPPPP NATASHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!”

The redhead blows in Pam’s ear just to be annoying, causing the doctor to shake her head rapidly, trying to get away. “Let’s see where else. Hmmm. How about the back?”

“NO! I’m not ticklish there hehehehehehehe.”

The redhead had Pam turned over in a heartbeat and was running her fingertips lightly over Pam’s shoulder blades and spine. She’s sure to drag her nails over Pam’s lower back for good measure, causing the doctor to shout in giggles.

Then an idea forms in the redhead’s mind and she pulls back completely for a minute. The doctor struggles to catch her breath, still face down on the couch. But Pam starts to tense up at the lack of tickles. She could sense an attack coming but didn’t know where to expect it.

“Natasha don’t you dare… AHAHAHAHAHA!”

Natasha pounced, lightly squeezing the back of the doctor’s neck, causing the woman to scrunch up to protect her neck at all costs.

“I think I found a sensitive area.” Natasha grins. She continues her attack on the back of the neck and ears for a bit when something catches her eye.

“Hmmm…what about…bare feet.”

“No no no no no no.” Pam exclaims through her breathless giggles.

Natasha doesn’t listen though as she continues to hold the doctor still and looks down at the bare feet. “Hmm but which part is ticklish? Let’s try the heel.”

The redhead squeezes the heels lightly, causing the doctor to squeal and kick with giggles and defiance. “Nononono stoppppp.”

“Hmmm or maybe the soles are more ticklish.” Natasha scribbles the bottoms of Pam’s feet, causing the woman to yelp.

“Oh I know. It’s got to be the toes.” With that, Natasha quickly and lightly tickles the tops of Pam’s toes, causing the woman to laugh so much it turns into silent gasps. Natasha grins down at the woman triumphantly. “This is a great piece of knowledge to have.”

“Noooooo.” Pam huffs out.

Finally Natasha has pity and relents. The doctor lies there catching her breath before sitting up and immediately moving to the far end of the couch, away from Natasha.

Pam folds her arms and pouts like a little kid. Natasha laughs slightly, thinking its adorable. Pam huffs. “Meanie.”

The redhead grins, “You seemed to enjoy it.”

The doctor flushes even more red. “I did not!”

It didn’t take a super spy to see the lie. Pam pouts more when she realizes she hasn’t convinced Natasha she isn’t ticklish.

The redhead laughs and holds her arm out. “Come back over here and finish the movie.”

Pam shakes her head with a pout. Natasha chuckles and shakes her head and starts the movie again. Slowly Pam creeps back over toward the redhead and eventually ends up cuddled back in her arms.

“I hate you.” Pam mutters sleepily into Natasha’s shoulder as the movie ends.

Natasha grins. “I know.”

[pinkworkshop]

[got-to-love-a-badboy]

Request - Your story for sinking Billy Hargrove  is amazing do you mind like doing a one shot of Billy finding out that y/n is prego [Billy, Billy like mean Billy finds out]

You’re shitting me!

Billy Hargrove x y/n

'Friday night!' You thought to yourself, which meant one thing, party at the lake, hook up with Billy Hargrove and getting absolutely wasted. You and Billy had been hooking up for a few months now, not too serious, well not at school anyway, he would come around your house some nights, pick you up to go for a drive when his dad had been an ass hole.

At school was a different story, he would wink at you and because the two of you hung out in the same crowd you were always together but nobody would know that the two of you were sleeping together, except Lisa, your best friend.

It kind of hurt you because you loved Billy more than you would tell him and way more than he knew, deep down you hoped he cared more but the doubt always stopped you asking.

You looked forward to the lake parties the second you heard someone mention it, you had been feeling run down lately with all the studying, late nights with Billy and cheer practice, so you thought a party was just what the doctor ordered.

As you was getting ready for the party a sudden wave of nausea came over you, you had to bolt from your vanity to the bathroom where you threw up all your stomach contents, "damn cafeteria food!" You told yourself before returning to the vanity still unable to shake off the sick feeling.

Finally once your make up and hair had been done you chose your favourite dress, a tight fitting hot pink body con dress with your black kitten heals, you really had to squeeze yourself into the dress, fitting extra tight on the stomach and breast area, thinking nothing of it you adjusted the girls in your bra and headed downstairs as Billy would be picking up in 10 mins.

Once you see Billy's Camaro pull up outside you head out of the door shouting goodnight to your parents. You step inside the Camaro and see Billy with his signature look, hair curled to perfection, shirt open just the right amount and his jeans tight enough to stop his balls working.

"You look good y/n", he told you very monotone, he was never one to give compliments or be soppy but this was him trying, "aww thanks Billy, you look hot yourself, I wish I felt as good as I look, I threw up when I was getting ready, that shitty food at school I'm not eating it again" you moan to him, "y/n you better not throw up, I'm not kidding I will let you walk home" again very monotone, he was not kidding.

The two of you made conversation on the drive to the lake, as soon as you arrived Billy started taking beer out of the trunk of his Camaro, you headed off to find Lisa.

Not long after setting off you found her on a bench with a few people, "y/n! Hey girl, I'm glad you made it, you aren't looking too fresh though are you ok?" She asked you, "yeah I'm fine I think I ate something bad at school, Billy has driven me here so don't think his driving helped" she laughed at your reply.

Your girl group met up with Billy and the boys as the night went on, you had stopped drinking around an hour ago  as you felt sick again and right now you had your head on Billy's shoulder while he laughed and joked with the group, all of a sudden you shot up and ran behind a tree to again throw up.

Billy looked at you a little worried from the park bench he was on, Lisa ran over to you to help out.

After you had finished the two of you walked over to your crowd of friends, "can anyone give y/n a lift home I think she is really sick", they remained silent for a minute before Billy put his drink down and said "fine Il take her home but y/n I mean if you throw up in my car and your walking the rest of the way sick or not", you couldn't be bothered entertaining his need for drama so you just replied "ok Billy".

He managed to get you home without been sick, you quickly left the car but not before Billy said "il see you at school".

The morning rolled around and you felt no better so you stayed in bed, you did this for a few days.

Finally Lisa showed up at your house wondering where you were, you let her in and the two of you sat on the couch watching tv, you began filling her in on your bug, "ugh Lisa is has been horrible, constantly being sick, I haven't eaten anything even the thought of food makes me want to throw up, actually are you wearing a new perfume because I'm sorry but it's making me feel the same way", Lisa looked at you shocked by your harsh comment, "ok I'm going to let that slide, don't panic ok but you know my brothers girlfriend just had her baby like 3 months ago" you just nodded in response, "well remember when they were living at my house and I would tell you what she was like at the start", your eyes shot open wide, you knew what she was getting at, she just nodded at you, "what if you aren't sick y/n, what if this is morning sickness".

You began pacing around the room, "I can't be, no, no way, I'm going to college next year!, I'm not, obviously I'm not pregnant!.... Am I? Oh god, what if I am, Billy will kill me, my mom and dad will disown me!", Lisa ran up to you and pulled you into a hug, "nothing is going to happen like that ok, just breathe, I'm going to the store and getting a test, I will be back in 10 minutes ok, let's not panic until we know huh", before you knew it she had left.

The two of you paced your bedroom floor, you with a test in your hand waiting the 10 intense minutes it stated on the box.

Finally the colour appeared, "what does 2 lines mean Lisa?", your friend looked at the instructions in her hand and Simply said, "I'm sorry Y/N".

Your first reaction was to run, so you did, "I have to go", and with that you ran, you didn't know where you was headed until you arrived at 4819 cherry lane, you looked up at the house in shock that you managed to get here, Billy's car was on the drive but his dads wasn't.

You walked up the rickety old steps, once you reached the door you gave a timid knock before Max answered, "hey Max, Billy home?" She just moved aside and said "bedroom, left at the bottom", you simply gave her a nod, you had been here many times before unbeknown to her.

You gave a quiet knock on the door only to hear Billy shout back "go away Maxine!", "uh it's me Billy, y/n".

Billy soon came to answer the door, "what are you doing here? Where have you been I haven't  seen you all week, your not still sick are you" he asked, unsure of how to answer all the questions thrown at you, you decided to try explain, "kind of but that's why I'm here Billy I need to speak to you", he went back in the bedroom and sat on the bed, "ok so first of all I want to apologise, I am so so sorry Billy, I didn't want this to be the case and I don't like it as much as you won't", Billy looked at you exremely confused, you decided to just start.

"Ok Billy yeah iv been sick, well not so much sick, I'm ..... fuck, ..... Billy I... we are...., ugh....." you broke down crying, "y/n tell me" he said abruptly, you felt like the Penny had dropped, he just needed you to say it.

"I'm pregnant Billy", it was out. He just got up and walked over to his mirror with his head down for what felt like an eternity, you decided to go up behind him, you looked at his face in the mirror, the vein on his head was out indicating he was angry, "Billy talk to me, please.", you didn't get a response from him although he did look up and look you in the eyes through the mirror.

"This was an accident Billy, we aren't ready for this.... But we can do this".

He flipped, shooting around to look directly at you, "are you fucking kidding me y/n, 'we can do this' what sort of bull shit answer is that!, how can we do this!, you're going to college in a few months, I'm living here with this duche bag!, we're not even dating!, some causal hook up this turned out to he huh", Billy really hurt you with what he was saying but you had known him long enough to know he didn't mean a lot of what he said in anger, "yeah you're right this will change plans for me, and no we're not dating because some ass hole hasn't asked me out, he just wants to keep hooking up with anyone he feels like", you stood with your hands on your hips waiting for a response but he just stood there mouth open at your reaction, nobody spoke back to him like that, "oh you lost for words Billy? Well I have some for you, we can do this, you know why I believe we can, because I love you Billy Hargrove, I don't expect you to love me back I'm not stupid but I WILL be doing this with or without you, I'm going to leave now because I have given you your choices, you can either decide what we are and what you want to do about the child you have created with me or you can live your life in this shit hole with your father, hating every minute of your time here, you know as much as I do that you are only comfortable when you are with me, il be at home. Hopefuly il see you soon Billy....."

With that you left the Hargrove house.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

[neopronouns]

incorfunchaic incorolchaic | incorlovchaic

incorfunchaic: a gender related to playing chess incorrectly for fun

incorolchaic: a gender related to playing with chess pieces like they're characters/dolls/etc.

incorlovchaic: a gender related to playing with chess pieces like they're characters/dolls/etc. and making them kiss, fall in love, etc.

[pt: incorfunchaic: a gender related to playing chess incorrectly for fun

incorolchaic: a gender related to playing with chess pieces like they're characters/dolls/etc.

incorlovchaic: a gender related to playing with chess pieces like they're characters/dolls/etc. and making them kiss, fall in love, etc. end pt]

for anon! the outer four stripes are from the chessaic flag, red represents playing incorrectly, gold represents fun, and pink represents love. the terms are 'incor' from 'incorrect', 'fun'/'rol' from 'roleplay'/'lov' from 'love', 'ch' from 'chess', + 'aic'!

flag id: three flags with 7 stripes. the top flag's stripes, in order, are very dark grey, off-white, golden yellow, bright red, golden yellow, cream, and very dark brown. the bottom left flag's stripes, in order, are very dark grey, off-white, light pink, bright pinkish-red, golden yellow, cream, and very dark brown. the bottom right flag's stripes, in order, are very dark grey, off-white, light pink, bright pinkish-red, light pink, cream, and very dark brown. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

dni link

[goodmorningbatterycity]

Violent Ray *speaking into mic*: Hello Battery SHITTY, Violent Rays here, we just killed "Morales" if that was even his last name and threw his body in an unmarked grave, now we're going to free all the trapped killjoys and host the party of a lifetime, bring beer, bring pizza, bring marijuanas, anyway let's kick off this whole thing with a little punk rock classic, LIMP BIZKIT!!!!! Violent Ray: Keep rollin rollin rollin Toxic SUnshine: OMG yaassss baby! (☆▽☆) Keep rollin rollin rollin Tickled Pink: Uhmmm.....Keep rollin rollin rollinn Bomb Baby: Keep rollin rollin rollin o(*￣▽￣*)ブ Nurse Marysa: Keep rollin rollin rollin Violent Rays *scratching a record on a turntable and singing into the mic*: You wanna mess with Limp Bizkit (yeah) You can't mess with Limp Bizkit (why?) Because we get it on (when?) Everyday and everynight (oh) And this platnuim thing right here (uh-huh) Yo we're doin' it all the time (what?) So you better get some better beats and a... Get some better rhymes (dough) We got the gang set So don't complain yet 24-7 never beggin' for a rain check Old school soldiers blastin' out the hot shit That rock shit, puttin' bounce in the mosh pit

(Throw your hands up) (Throw your, your hands up) (Throw your, throw, throw your) (Throw your hands, throw your hands up) (Throw your hands up)

(Now move in, now move out) Hands up or hands down (Back up, back up) Tell me what ya gonna do now (Breathe in, now breathe out) Hands up or hands down (Back up, back up) Tell me what ya gonna do now Keep rollin', rollin', rol

oml

[finalgirlfae]

pretty names, tom riddle

pairings: tom riddle x reqder

genre: fluff

requested: yes

you were sat in the slytherin common room, legs lazily thrown on to blaise’s lap as you both read a book for your divination class.

“i know i’m looking at the page and reading the words but i’m retaining absolutely none of this.” blaise sighed, tossing the book over his shoulder and leaning back into the couch.

you laughed, turning the next page and flinching when someone stormed into the common room, carrying a dark energy among them.

the few first years that were laid on the floor scrambled up and ran to their dorms when tom entered making both you and blaise laugh.

“geez, tom. who shoved a stick up your ass?” you giggled, looking at his angry and stoic expression. he gave you a side eye as he looked in the mirror, attempting loosen his tie and taking off the rings from his fingers.

“stupid fucking malfoy and his stupid fucking brain, making me get a B- on the potions assignment all because he’s incompetent and couldn’t tell his head form his arse if it carried around a name tag.” tom spat, still struggling with the tie. you moved your legs off blaise and stood up, walking over to him and tapping his shoulder.

tom turned to you and eyed you as you began to undo his tie for him. “i’m sure you can speak to snape and have him change the grade-”

“but i can’t!” tom complained. “already talked to the bastard and he won’t budge.”

“woah, take it easy tommy.” you giggled as you slid the tie off his neck, touching his cheek in the process. blaise looked up from the book at you, giving you a concerned gaze because he knew how much the boy hated to be called ‘tommy’. but it was already too late to take it back and you both could tell. it had just slipped out!

“what did you just call me.” tom asked in that stern tone of his, eyeing you down as hues of pink began to creep up his neck.

“nothing.” you squeaked. you were almost scared but when you noticed the blush land on his cheeks a small smile formed on your lips.

“what’s the matter, tommy?” you spoke on a new teasing tone. he liked it.

“stop calling me that.” tom hissed through gritted teeth. he crossed his arms and stared you down with his best vicious look.

“why? ‘s cute name for a cute boy.” your voice was all sing-songy and he hated how it made his stomach twist and fill with butterflies, something unknown to the boy.

“shut up.” tom heaved, turning around with a red face and storming away from you. you laughed and sat back down ont he couch next to blaise, smiling at how easy who made him blush.

tom closed the door to his room harshly, beginning to unbutton his shirt and shaking his head at what had just happened.

he hated being called tommy. absolutely despised it. it was a stupid, childish and idiotic name so why did it sound so impossibly good when it fell from your lips?

that night and the next morning it was all he could think about. the way you said it, the smile when you did and the fact that you were holding his tie when it was said. everything just filled his mind, clouding his every thought and driving him mad.

tom walked into class, seeing you sit at the desk you two shared and rolling his eyes at how fast and pathetic he was. one glance at you and his cheeks were as pink as the cherry blossoms that sat swaying in the courtyard.

“morning, tom.” you said, paying him no mind.

“what? no ridiculous nick name today?” he replied as he sat down next to you, scooting in his chair and opening his notebook.

“no,” you shrugged. “you said you didn’t like it-”

he cut you off. “i dont.”

“alright!” you raised toy hands definitely. “tommy.” you said in a whisper.

tom banged his fist on the desk causing your classmates to look, he sent them a glare which immediately made them turn away.

you smiled at him and he forced the urge to smile back. “admit it,” you began, “you like the nickname.”

“i despite it.” he spoke, pushing his feather so hard on the parchment that it almost snapped.

“sure you do.”

tom hesitantly looked at you, rolling his eyes and ignoring you for as the lesson began. everything that snape said during potions went in one ear and out the other, he could only think about how good you looked when your brows were furrowed in concentration.

when the class was dismissed tom found himself training behind you, making you yelp as he pulled you aside to a less crowded part of the hall.

“fine. call me whatever you want, but if other people say it i’m literally going to kill you.”

you smiled at him and his stoic expression began to turn pink. “you like the nickname.”

“no i don’t.” tom quickly retorted.

“sure you don’t,” you shrugged. you pressed a kiss to tom’s cheek before smiling at him again. “later tommy.”

tom was left standing there dumbfounded. he hated how the stupid name made him blush, how your dumb smile made his heart beat faster and how the kiss made him feel like he was on cloud nine. he hated it.

[infamous-raven-x]

In lieu of your last art, didn’t seeing Hydranoid get tortured inspire Keith to become Spectra, rather than the other way around?

Welcome to my Ted talk on Spectra's Character, Topic of today, When did this B-word turn evil?, the Threat 🧵🪡

First I just want to stay clear that I don't know what does it has to do with my Art but I will serve you, that's my job.

It's not the first time I do jokes about Spectra been choke....

Anyway, If I'm not wrong you are asking something that my rol model @marukrawler has posted ones, the Spectra's wing escene...

For more information you can read it, But I will talk about it since I think she forgot some details (I mean is my perspective so you can guess that ALL that I say is purely based in my headcannons)

First of all, If I'm correct, when we are introduced with Spectra in the episode 1 we discoverd 2 things important for the plot, Tigress mention that she (he) is the last Bakugan of the Six new warriors but she (he) will not give up against Helios even if he already bit the other 5 bakugans, I will take this as an important details since we know that Hydron consider that Spectra is the stra ger drawelr of New Vestroia and the Leader of the Vexos (Hex).

I will mention this because a lot of thigs doesn't make sense in this, like they tried to retcon what we have seen so far.

First of all the times doesn't really match, If we not something important Bakugan came to Vestal the same time as Bakugans on Earth since the fracture of the Dimensional trasporter of Profesol Michael did hit.

But why does this is Important?, the Year gaps doesn't really make any sense.

For example, Dan in the first season has 12 years old and (Yes I will take this info from the wiki).

The important thing here is that Mira and Dan are the same Age so I will asume that the flashback of Mira where she lose to Pink wannabe Spectra is basicly when they started to brawl and so Mira is still learning.

It is Important becuase we can asume that time was use foe the Vestals to fine New Vestroia and create the space cities (1 year or 2), so the next step is that Drago when he is still the perfect core he starts to countdown all his friends that had been took by Vexos, putting Hydranoid penultimate before Tigress.

The time gaps doesn't make sense, Spectra was the one that capture all the Bakugan, How did he could be Spectra AND be Keith undercover?

(Apart from using wing)

And there goes my next point, if Spectra was the one that capture Hydranoid is almost imposible that he got corrupted in this moment since he ALREADY was evil, there is a part where Mira could have lie so that brawlers...

Let's rememeber that Mira was the one that told us that Keith turns evil.

I purely think he was evil since the begining.

There is a posibility since Mira at first didn't wanted to tell Dan the true....

I really think that the main reason everyone is so lost with this is becuase Mira tell us a thing but the history may not be the true to cover her brother with a la Lame excuse. To safe the unexistend ass of Spectra.