#anyway good evening to mike ONLY for throwing down with me like a real one

[chamerionwrites]

There are a number of specific personal anecdotes I could cite here. But many years later, the one that (sort of ironically given how it ultimately turned out) hacks me off the most is this:

In college, walking in a park at dusk, with my friend and his two roommates (all dudes). We came over a hill, heard a yelp, and silhouetted against the fading sunset we saw the shadow of a large man throwing what was clearly a much smaller woman to the ground.

My friend and I sprinted down the hill, shouting and clenching our fists, fully prepared to try to fuck this guy up. It’s at this point that I should probably mention that in college I was all of 130 pounds (at 5’9”). My friend Mike was a little Filipino guy several inches shorter than me; I quite possibly outweighed him. (Also he happens to be gay, which is not an indicator of somebody’s prowess in a fight, but you know. Plenty of people sure think that it is.)

This story has a happier and more anticlimactic ending than it may initially appear, because as it turned out this was a guy and his girlfriend goofing around and we jumped to the worst conclusions because it was dark and nobody else was around. She thought the whole thing was hilarious. He was extremely red in the face, but also kind of sheepishly grateful to us for intervening. A minute later Mike’s roommates came down the hill, also looking sheepish and a little wary, and everything was explained and no harm was done.

Afterward one of the roommates playfully took me to task for it. What did I think I was going to do, against this guy who was twice my size? I told him I didn’t really have time to think about it, I just reacted, but I wasn’t going to do nothing. “So you started a fight that I would have had to finish,” he told me. Still playfully, but I thought I could sense some real frustration there. “I’m the one who would have had to intervene, to keep you from getting your ass kicked.”

Like I said he was being playful, and at the time I didn’t react as strongly as I wish I had in hindsight. But the older I’ve gotten and the more I’ve thought about that situation, the angrier I’ve become. I signed him up for a fight? He and the other roommate were the ones waffling at the top of the hill. There were four of us and one of the other guy, and he hung back like a coward, and then he tried to frame that as a failure on my part instead of a failure on his.

This is what I always think about, when I hear that kind of who-will-protect-you-if-not-for-traditionally-masculine-men whining. As a person who tends to get along pretty well with men, whose most beloved and admired friends are and always have been mostly men, who frankly has always had a bit of trouble making friends with women and fitting into women-only spaces (and there is A LOT to be said about the whys of this, much of it about toxic femininity and women as enforcers of misogyny and the gendered violence they will aim at other women who don’t Do Gender correctly - so don’t clown in my notes)….I have enormous respect and admiration for my male friends! I get as annoyed as anyone when people are unnecessarily shitty to or about men.

But also, I’m gonna be real with you guys. When the chips are down far too many of you - white straight cis men especially - are abject self-centered cowards who will not raise a finger to defend anyone more vulnerable than yourselves. Who actively loathe vulnerability, in fact, because you have been taught to have zero compassion for it in either others or (tragically) yourself. Who would not last even a single day in the shoes of the women and queer people that you secretly or not-so-secretly consider soft.

Possibly THE most obnoxious misogynist talking point to me personally is the whining about how only a good guy with a gun patriarchal masculinity can stop a bad guy with a gun patriarchal masculinity, so you stupid women had better stop shit-talking men (complaining about misogyny) because who will protect you otherwise?

Uh, statistically? Not you.

Anecdotally, in 9 out of 10 cases the person who intervenes when a man is being violent/threatening/creepy/etc is a woman or a queer dude, so. Also not you.

[tmnt-tychou]

All Hallows Eve

Meant to be Bayverse, but you could probably imagine its any of them.

Female Reader x All Four Turtles (Slightly Mikey x Reader)

All Hallows Eve

She was dressed as an angel, standing on a street corner looking lost. The white feathered wings with matching boots seemed to glow with a light all their own in the dark, tin-foil halo glittering above her head. She caught Michelangelo's attention with her costume, but he had no plan to approach her at first.

Halloween was the one day a year where he and his brothers could walk the streets in the open without people screaming for their lives. But it still came with its own caveats. They only went out at night and stayed away from any bright lights that could give people a clear look at their forms. And they could never stay in one place for too long. People would compliment their “costumes” in passing, but if they lingered, people would realize they were too big, too real to be costumes.

So even though they were out among the humans, they continued to live in the shadows like ninja, but enjoying the fanfare of a New York Halloween. It was the closest any of them could get to feeling like part of society and Michelangelo milked it for all he could. He kept moving through the neighborhood block parties, enjoying the costumes and partaking of the street food.

That was when Michelangelo saw her. She seemed to be looking for something, or she was lost. But he wasn't sure if he should approach. Not until she looked his way; looked right at him. Her eyes were big, haunting. And they drew him in like she needed him. He found himself walking out of the crowd toward her.

“Hey there, Angel,” he said, referring to her costume. “You okay?” He knew he was big, even for someone pretending to be in a costume. He tried to hunch, make himself smaller. Non-threatening to a woman being approached by a stranger.

She didn't seem to be bothered by his looks or his size. She almost seemed relieved someone had asked about her. “I...I think I'm a bit lost. I was trying to get to a party, but I don't know the city very well and...” she looked at her empty hands, “I've misplaced my phone so I don't have the address.”

“Well that's no good,” Michelangelo replied. “Can I help you find it? Do you remember the address?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I only moved to the city a few weeks ago. I don't know where anything is. I met some people who invited me to this party.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to stop herself from getting emotional. “I just wanted to make some friends here.”

Michelangelo knew better, but he spoke anyway. “I'll be your friend. My name's Mike. My brothers and I are just out enjoying the vibe. Do you want to hang with us for a bit? Then I can make sure you get home when you're ready. Uh...that is if you're okay kicking it with some strangers for a while.”

She smiled, grateful. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Are your brothers giant turtles, too?”

He laughed. “Yeah, we all decided to wear the same thing. Like a group costume.”

He didn't notice she mentioned nothing about costumes.

***********

“What I'm saying is the whole shtick of The Addams Family is that they're weirdos,” Donatello said as he chewed on a caramel apple slice. “They're different than anybody else. But when you put her in a boarding school where everyone is weirdos—supernatural creatures—you're throwing the whole gimmick of the franchise out the window. The story would have worked better if the school was full of normal people. And she would have been the only one able to solve the murder mystery because only she would have suspected a supernatural killer.”

Raphael picked up his forth taco of the night. For a mutant his size, they were hardly a mouthful. But damn, they were so good. “I dunno about any of that, Don. But if you didn't like 'Wednesday', you don't have to keep watching it.”

“Yo, broooos!” Michelangelo called from below. “Come meet our new friend.”

The three other turtles looked down from where they sat on various levels of a metal fire escape. Each had been enjoying the food they collected from the street party, but had ultimately decided to eat in private and watch the people from the alley where they hid.

Leonardo, who was perched just a little higher than Raphael, leaned down so his face was more to his level. “Does Mike have a human with him?”

Raphael sighed. “Looks like. He's always been a sucker for a pretty face. Especially one that will say two words to him. Any two words. Even if it's 'fuck off.'”

Leonardo smirked and then gripped the railing. “Well, let's go meet Mike's new friend and hopefully that will be that.” But he wasn't thinking. He just hopped over the rail and landed two stories down like it was nothing.

Even Michelangelo was silently motioning for him to cut it on the ninja stuff as the two remaining brothers climbed down like normal people.

“So these are my brothers: Don, Raph, and Leo,” Michelangelo introduced. “And this beautiful angel is uh...” He looked helplessly to the human woman.

“Angel works,” she smiled back. “Hi.”

They all smiled back at her, a little awkward and a little clueless on what to do with her.

“Angel got lost trying to get to a party,” Michelangelo continued. “She's new in town and doesn't know the city too well. I thought we could hang out with her for a while and then make sure she gets home safe. What do you guys think?”

The brothers looked at each other and wordlessly agreed. How could they turn down anyone needing a safe chaperon for the night?

“You hungry, Angel?” Raphael asked.

“I could eat.” Her shrug made her cute little wings flap slightly and all four turtles went a little soft for her. She was a woman their age and she looked at them without fear. Like they were her peers. Like they were normal. How could they not go a little soft for that?

As the bottomless pits they were, the turtles didn't mind buying more food for themselves as well. They were happy to purchase anything Angel wanted while they were at it. At first, they wanted to make it quick. They knew lingering out among the humans for too long would give them away. But this time, something amazing happened.

Angel happened. All it took was one person to be with them. To talk with them like they were normal people and that strange bridge between human and mutant was built. With Angel near them, no matter how much their size crept into the uncanny valley for the masses, they were normal. Other people partying on the street didn't stare at them and quickly walk away anymore. A few people even stopped to compliment them on their costumes or even ask how they were made.

Raphael usually answered with random comments like “animatronics and rubber suits” or “it's CGI” and people would walk off confused. But not scared, and that was the important part.

As Leonardo ordered a basket of fries at a food truck to share with their new friend, he heard her talking to Donatello.

“Right?” she was saying. “This boarding school wasn't even really Addams Family core either. It was like...slightly spookier Hogwarts. Slightly. Fucking Harry Potter. Now everything has to be at a school.”

“I see you both have some strong feelings about a TV show,” Leonardo joked as he approached them. He offered Angel the warm fries in his hand. He thought she would take the whole basket, it was mostly meant for her. But she only took a few.

“For the most part, I was pretty on board with the whole show,” she continued. “But when Wednesday was stabbed, that was...jarring. Usually the family is portrayed as either liking pain, or they are somewhat impervious to injury. Maybe a bit of both. You never really know for sure. There's almost an immortal feel to them. There's just too many stories today that should have been original projects, but they keep being tacked onto existing franchises, but they don't have any respect for the lore.”

“Exactly!” Donatello agreed. He also grabbed a few fries and put them in his mouth. “The show and the story weren't bad per se, but it's not really an Addams Family story, so it wasn't as satisfying for fans as it could have been with a few tweaks.”

“God, are you still dragging that show?” Michelangelo sighed. “Angel, come dance with me. Let's enjoy this party while we can.”

He grabbed her hand, so small and delicate in his. She allowed him to lead her out into the thick of the crowd. The Monster Mash was playing over the speakers, a DJ at the stage in the front. The two found themselves a space to boogie and went about shaking their asses, just another normal pair in the sea of costumed party-goers.

“So what made you move to New York?” Michelangelo asked.

“Just trying some place new,” Angel replied. “Got tired of the little podunk town I came from. Not a lot of work there. Was hoping to find more opportunities out here. Maybe get some schooling in. What about you? How long have you been in the NYC?”

“All my life. Was born here. Might even die here. Big fan of the Big Apple.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do with yourself here?”

“Uh...” He paused for a bit, brain trying to come up with a reasonable response. No one had ever asked him his occupation before. “I work with the city in kind of a...crime watch capacity. Trying to clean the crime off the streets, make neighborhoods safer. That kind of thing.”

“Oh, like with the police?”

“I mean...we work with the police sometimes but what we do is more like...a neighborhood watch situation but on a larger scale.”

“Does that pay anything?”

“Uh, not really. It's more of a non-profit type organization. Donnie's the one that makes all the money. He's into tech and sells patents and stuff. He sort of bankrolls us so we can keep going.”

“Oh wow, that's a really noble goal. Though how to do watch the neighborhood on nights that aren't Halloween? With you guys being big turtles and all?”

At first, Michelangelo thought she was joking. “Heh, what?”

“You know, you guys are big turtles. How do you get around the other days of the week if you look after the neighborhoods? You can't convince people these are costumes forever.”

It was such a jarring revelation that Michelangelo's brain shut down, and then immediately went into panic mode. He picked her up under his arm like she was a plank of wood and fled the open area. He slipped through the crowds of people with an uncanny ease for his size and then continued to run past where his brothers were standing.

“Mike!” Raphael called after him.

When that didn't even slow his brother down, the three followed after him into a small, dead-end alley that was poorly-lit and would have very little visibility from the street.

“What?” Leonardo asked as they caught up with him. “What happened?”

By then, Michelangelo had set Angel back on her feet and then chewed nervously on his nail. “She knows!” he hissed, as if he were trying to keep it a secret from those who may be nearby.

“She...knows?” Raphael parroted, confused.

“That we're turtles.”

“Yeah, of course you're turtles,” she replied. She touched Michelangelo's arm and he visibly stiffened at her contact. “Clearly, these aren't costumes. I just think it's cool that you come out one night a year to hang out with people like this.”

“Uh...we actually come out a lot...just not...you know, street level,” Michelangelo replied.

“You mean you...” she pointed to the rooftops. “Is that where you live?”

“No, but it's how we usually get around.”

“Oooh! Like Batman!”

“Right! Yes! Like Batman!” Raphael agreed with excitement.

“Okay, okay, lets calm down,” Leonardo said. “This is a lot to take in all at once. You realized we weren't in costume and you didn't really say anything?”

Angel shrugged. “Hey, you guys were nice to me and you weren't trying to like get me alone in a dark alley or anything. Uh...except for right now. But you guys seem safe. What do I care what you look like? There's not many nice people in this city.

“I thought I would at least be meeting some fun strangers for a night and have the best Halloween. And maybe I would see you guys again, or maybe you were something magical that only happened on All Hallows Eve. Either way, it would be a good memory.”

She looked at the brothers who all had various bewildered looks on their faces. This person, she was someone special. Someone interesting. Someone who rolled with the weird and uncanny. Someone they could possibly make friends with. It had been years since they had dared to bring a new person into their world.

“So...what do you want to do now?” Donatello asked.

“I liked what we were doing,” Angel replied. “Let's keep hanging out. Eat good food, dance to music, talk to each other. And maybe I'll see you again after this?”

The brothers all looked at each other and smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Raphael agreed while Michelangelo nodded excitedly.

“If you're okay with the turtle thing, we're definitely hanging out again.” Michelangelo offered his arm and she took it.

They went back to the block party. They danced and joked. They enjoyed the music, the food, the costumes. The turtles were brighter now. Not so guarded, not so careful or suspicious of the people around them. It had been a long time since anyone new had appeared into their close circle of people they trusted. This was the first one who was their own age. She had seen them and accepted them on sight. This knowledge came with a bit of a happy high for the turtles. A burst of hope and joy at being discovered and immediately accepted without even a demand for an explanation.

And they wanted her to know. They wanted her to see their world. After this night of costumes, they planned to see her again, to show her and share what they were with her. It had been a good Halloween night.

“It's getting late and it's getting cold,” Leonardo eventually announced. “Angel, can we help you get home?”

“If you could walk me to my car?” she replied. “I parked a few blocks away.”

She nodded in the direction they needed to go and Leonardo hovered a hand over the small of her back to guide her.

“It's our pleasure.”

“You think your phone is in the car somewhere?” Michelangelo asked. “If you find it, we can trade numbers.”

“You guys have phones? Like normal phones?” she laughed.

“Of course,” Donatello said in a pragmatic tone. “Why wouldn't we?”

“Oh uh...I guess you could get phones if you really wanted them. Sorry, my bad. I guess you guys feel more magical than practical to me. Like you'll just poof away at the stroke of midnight. Knowing you have phones makes you feel a little more real.”

“Oh, we're real, Angel,” Raphael said with a flirty smile.

“And we'll be your friends if you want us to be,” Leonardo said softly. “We don't have many of those.”

“Neither do I,” Angel replied with the same soft tone. “I would really like that a lot.” They walked a few more feet and she pointed to the last building on the block. “My car is just around this corner.”

As they turned the corner, the turtles jumped back at the sudden red and blue flashing lights. Several police cars and one ambulance were clustered around the accident site of a two-car collision.

“Shit, Angel, I don't think we can walk you all the way to your car. But you should be hella safe with all the—” Michelangelo turned to the woman who had been standing right next to her. But in a blink, she was no longer there. “Angel?” He looked around, then looked at his brothers. “Dude, where'd she go?”

“She was...just right there,” Donatello said in confusion.

Leonardo peered around the corner to see if she had gone on ahead while Raphael looked behind them.

“I don't think she bailed. Where is she?”

Pressed to the side of the building, Leonardo audibly gasped. “I think...I see her.”

The others huddled around him to see what he was looking at. Out of one of the smoking cars, paramedics carried a female body dressed all in white, complete with halo and feathery white wings. White that was marred with smatterings of dark red blood. The body was set on a stretcher where the entire form was covered in a white sheet. No further first aid was administered to costumed angel as she was wheeled to the ambulance. That could only mean one thing.

“What? That...no, that can't...” Michelangelo struggled. “She was here with us all night. I touched her. I fucking picked her up in my arms!”

In his ear, he heard Donatello's ragged breathing, as if he were about to have a panic attack.

“Hey!” A police officer caught their shadows peering around the corner and they quickly ducked out of sight. When the human started toward their location, they quickly took to the rooftops in hopes of getting a better view. But by then, the body was already loaded into the ambulance to be taken away and Angel was nowhere else to be found.

***************

Her death didn't even make the news. What was one collision with a drunk driver with all the other crazy stuff that happened in New York on Halloween? And the turtles were never quite sure what happened that night; what they truly witnessed.

Only a few days into November, they all stopped talking about it. Tried to pretend it didn't happen. And it worked for most of the year. But then...October rolled around again. And as Halloween drew closer, the brothers didn't generate their usual excitement for their one holiday a year when they could go out on the street among the citizens. They still didn't talk about it. And when the night came, there was a certain unspoken trepidation in the air.

“You're not going out tonight?” Splinter asked them as they all brooded in the living room.

“Thinking about it, but...” Raphael trailed off.

“It just feels...weird,” Michelangelo added.

The other two brothers didn't say anything, but they seemed to agree with the sentiment.

“It is a shame your friend passed away after you had only known her for a while,” Splinter said. “But I don't think she would have liked that her memory tainted this holiday for you. You should be thankful you were able to have that time with her before she was gone.”

There was an uncomfortable silence from the turtles. As much as they tried to explain, Splinter never quite understood what they experienced. In his mind, they had met their friend during the party and then she had died in an accident on the way home after. All attempts to explain to the contrary resulted in failure.

“What if you went out just for a while to pay your respects? Perhaps find some closure,” Splinter then offered.

The brothers perked up a little and looked at each other. Something about that felt right.

**********

They went to the site of the crash, a year ago that day. They thought maybe anyone else might be there. Someone who missed her. Someone who felt the loss of her. Humans left flowers at sites like these on an anniversary like this, right? But there was nothing there. A year later, no evidence that the incident ever happened. The only proof that a life was lost here was that several of the road's street lights had been fixed. The collision had been largely blamed on most of the street lights being in disrepair at the time, even though one of the drivers had been drunk.

The turtles stood beside the street, out of the direct glow of the repaired street lights.

“So...do we say something or...?” Donatello asked softly.

“I dunno, we hardly knew her,” Raphael responded.

“Say something if you feel like it,” Leonardo offered.

They were all quiet for a moment, then Michelangelo spoke. “Well, Dudette, you seemed to be a super awesome chick. Too bad we didn't get a chance to see how awesome you really were.”

“A true tragedy,” Donatello agreed.

They stood for a while more and then turned to leave. The music and noise from the block party near by reached them before they could remove the nearest manhole cover.

“You guys wanna pick up some food before we head home?” Michelangelo suggested. “Grab something for Splinter too? See a few costumes, listen to some music before we go?”

The season called to them. It always did. The one festival a year about darkness and masked faces. Spooky fun and all sorts of delicious food. They had to be a part of it, just for a while.

The brothers split up, aiming for their favorite vendors. It wasn't like the year before, where they had a human friend hanging out with them, making them look normal. Now it was back to sticking to the shadows. Darting in and out to get what they were after and then sneaking back to the allies so no one stared at them for too long, lest they be figured out.

Michelangelo meant to grab some caramel apples for himself and one for Splinter, but the music and the atmosphere of the party caught his attention. He still wished to be in the middle of it. Talking with people, laughing, feeling like one of them. Even on this day of magic, he could only exist on the outskirts.

And then...something caught his eye. A woman dressed all in white. A little glittery halo and white, feathery wings. His breath caught in his chest. She turned, as if sensing his eyes on her. Angel looked right at him and smiled.

Happy Halloween

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[murdockmeta]

welcome back to watchmojo where we are counting down ren's top 5 mike murdock moments

5. Killing Bullseye that one time

so, technically this didnt ACTUALLY happen (or itd be my number one lmfao), it was in a dream Matt was having while he was dying. but listen, okay, mike was still so real for this. bullseye was this close to killing Matt and Mike comes outta nowhere, declares his love for Karen Page, and boom shoots the guy right off a fuckin skyscraper how could i NOT talk about this, okay?

4. Being thrown to the ground

listen, he looks good a little roughed up, alright? what are you, a fuckin cop or somethin? aint it my right as a living, breathing, human being to enjoy pretty boys being thrown around a lil sometimes? damn

for reference: the first photo was when he was pretending to be Matt, trying to deal with some mob bosses. one of them got angry and pushed him down. the second was when mike was first introduced in the soule/noto run. bad guys bust into the bar hes at and matt throws him behind cover lmfao

3. this EXCELLENT reintroduction in the 2020 annual

the 2020 annual is when we get mike's whole backstory and THIS is the first panel we see him in. this is genuinely poetic. mike murdock wouldnt exist without first being made-up by matt (and matt pretending to be mike). we all know the story of matt losing his eye sight, he pushed a person out of the way of a van that was carrying toxic chemicals, blah blah

well. here we are yet again. except everythings flipped on its head. mike is pretending to be matt. he's jumping in front of this van to make the guys think theyve hit him so he can help rob them. he isnt saving anyone but he sure as hell is putting himself in danger. it sets the tone for his whole character. its just. yeah. this was fantastic, honestly.

2. his reaction to butch assualting hammerhead

okay so this was the moment in vol 6 that genuinely caught my complete attention. this was the moment i realized just how different and special mike was.

murdocks are known for, well, violence. jack was a boxer, he wanted matt to grow up and be nothing like him. he didnt want matt to fight only for matt to become daredevil later in life. we are led to believe there's almost this inherent violent streak to being "a murdock"

this is after a mob boss meeting, mike is watching hammerhead (a boss) from the shadows, helping butch keep track of him. he lets butch know where hammerhead is. butch proceeds to threaten hammerhead, bash his head into a car, yell at him, then gouge one of his eyes out.

and, well. this was mike's reaction.

this is the first time we are given a glimpse of mike's morals, his values. besides how much he cares for the people close to him, we find out he has an aversion to violence. he's a career criminal, i'm not saying he doesnt know how to throw a punch, but he goes out of his way to avoid it.

he's repeatedly shown to be a voice of reason, a mediator, and every time a violent solution is brought up, he immediately protests and wants to figure out a different way. that's fascinating to me.

he's breaking the mold of being "a murdock" in the most unexpected way. we think he must be so much like jack to so easily get involved in crime (with even jack saying so himself), but here we are shown that's wrong.

i wish we could've gotten his and butch's convo directly after this. also, another thing, mike's reaction to people he cares about doing something he doesnt approve of isn't to get angry, it's to worry. which, again. fascinating. admirable, even.

when he finds out matt's "in rehab" he's worried, and yeah a little angry, but mostly concerned for his brother. even after this incident, we are seen mike being very worried later. he's concerned for butch's mental state and wants to stop him from making any rash decisions (ie killing someone)

but, yeah. sorry for the damn essay (and heres another) anyways

trying to save wilson fisk from being assassinated

christs sake hes so fucking gorgeous. also ignore matt being an asshole here because that's all he ever did when mike was around.

this was another very interesting moment in which we see mike's strong morals on full display. we are repeatedly told mike isn't the kind of person to be trusted, he doesnt take things seriously, he's morally ambiguous yada yada. and yet.

as soon as he finds out butch is planning to maybe (which he later find out he's correct about) put a hit on wilson fisk, wilson fuckin fisk, he wants to stop it. mike is under the impression that killing someone is not a line you can cross and come back from. he's deeply concerned about the path his friend is headed down.

In this scene, he's coming to visit foggy in the hospital to talk to him about maybe getting butch out of jail while also hoping to catch daredevil there. he does, obviously.

his full intention is to team up with daredevil to try and take fisk down. mike thinks if he can take fisk down it'll stop butch from trying to kill him.

him going to daredevil also shows his ability to extend his compassion to others. he has no fuckin reason to trust daredevil. daredevil has done nothing but insult mike, yell and argue with him, and even rough him up a couple of times. and still, mike decides to reach out because he knows daredevil is supposed to be a good guy. he also knows daredevil is supposed to be matt's close friend.

he brings it up more than once that the reason he trusts daredevil is because of matt being his friend (despite mike and matt supposedly not being close).

so, yeah, i got a little off-topic, but that's why i love this scene so much. it shows not only how deeply mike cares for people, but also his compassion and aversion to violence. he's trying to take care of his best friend and trust daredevil despite their differences. he's showing how good of a person he is and how dedicated he is to his cause of a "bloodless" coup.

-----

if you made it this far fuckin THANKS, mike is my favoritest most specialist boy lmao and this turned into a character study high key but im not mad about it

[sitchski]

OMG!!!! more steve harrington x fem!black!reader smut PLEASE!!!!

hmmm.. only cuz you said please 🤭 no but lowkey i’m glad you asked this so i now have the excuse to post this yayyy!

off limits.

summary: your boyfriend loved to gloat about how lucky he was to have you, but what he didn’t know was that steve had you first.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!black!reader

includes: unprotected sex, rough sex, oral stimulation (f receiving), choking kink, pet names, dom!steve, older!sinclair!sister, cheating

author’s note: so idk if y’all have heard the song restroom occupied but that song is a BANGER. and i’m not sure why but it inspired this oneshot. so did scandal i have been watching aLOT of scandal. idk where i was… lost but i am now found. anyways enjoy !

steve harrington was a good friend. he was so good! you, him and robin became such a cute little trio even though he was to graduate pretty soon.

even while at school, he managed to keep a watchful eye on your little brother, lucas, and his friends, mike, will and dustin. the party as they liked to call themselves.

steve harrington was a great guy. so why was he doing something so bad? and why, oh, why did it have to be you?

"your boyfriend has some real fuckin' attitude, y'know that?" he muttered discreetly, pretending to look for something to drink as he caught you in the kitchen.

a house party, one your boyfriend was throwing. he was sweet... a little boring but ugh so sweet! you had been dating for a couple of months now and were truly starting to feel comfortable.

but ofcourse, right there to disturb your peace was him.

"attitude? you really wanna sit here and talk about attitude?" you countered through gritted teeth. you absentmindedly grabbed the first thing infront of you in order to get your eyes to look anywhere but at him.

you settled on a coke bottle, unscrewing the cap and pouring it into your cup as you continued, "this night has been so good. he invited you to his house in confidence. can you for once not let your pride get in the way and act cool? please?"

he rolled his eyes dramatically. he was over your pathetic pleading. he knew that wasn't what this was all about.

"y/n, look at me. look at me."

"nope. i've got a drink to make."

"look..." he emphasised sternly but still quietly. this caused you to put the bottle and glass down, sighing as you didn't give in just yet. "...at me."

though you did some internal fighting, you caved. locking eyes with him. you only saw admiration; pure admiration. so raw it turned ruthlessly animalistic. you knew, because of how well he inflicted it on you.

"d'you think it's been easy? watching—" his breathless laugh interrupted him, his head turning away for a brief moment. "watching him kiss you? touch up on you? stare at me with a fuckin' smug face like your thighs weren't locked around my head this same week?"

your mind instantly pulled up vivid screenshots of the act, causing you to inhale sharply. you couldn't look away, though. he didn't even touch physically to force you to hold that gaze but there was something strong, almost magnetic, telling you you didn't stand one chance.

he was the one to break it though, glancing down, at your dress. black, sleek, tight. his jaw clenched as he drank you in, parched the whole evening.

"fuckin' teasing me with that dress. you know, we know he's not the one you wore it for. like- like he would know what to do when the dress is off. like he would know how to make those thighs shake," he mumbled. his voice got lower the more he talked, supposedly jumping onto a train of thought himself. one that stopped at the same destination as yours did.

he looked back up at you again. "go to the bathroom in about ten minutes. i'll meet you there in five after."

you scoffed, looking away to give a studious laugh. "like that isn't gonna be any more obvious?"

"nope," he chugged his full cup and slammed it on the countertop, "was just leaving."

you watched as he said goodbye to all of your shared friends, stopping at your boyfriend, where the exchange was done awkwardly and tensely.

silently, you screamed. in your head there was only one reaction. your consciousness had sat down your heart in a chair where she was repeatedly getting beat up. but it didn't matter. no matter how hard the blows were, your heart was still beating. for him.

and it beat in a happy and excited rhythm as you waited in the bathroom. you leaned against the sink, arms folded and anticipating.

it was pathetic, really. how consumed and controlled you were by the connection you two shared. you fixed your hair in the mirror, smoothed out your dress and, out of nervous habit, nearly chewed through your pinky nail.

that was until he showed up. climbing through the window like this was the heist scene in a big action blockbuster. speechless, you eyeballed his terribly indiscreet entrance and the way he dusted his knees as though it was a job well done.

"james bond, everybody," you slyly commented on his overt performance, arms folded like a true member of the audience.

"shut up," he bluntly demanded before claiming your lips with a cup of your cheek.

he appreciated your banter, he always did, but not right now. you were doing something to him. just standing there you were doing it. as long as that dress stayed on your body there was no need for talking. it needed to come off you.

you moaned softly through your lip lock, hands moving to tug at his green sweatshirt. he stopped you though, pushing your hands away quite forcefully. breaking away from the kiss to stare at your body. sorry, the temptation known as your body.

"off."

the word was muttered at first but when you didn't do what he had ordered, he glanced up at you to repeat himself. "off, angel. take it off for me."

you were going to listen. obviously. but it didn't mean you weren't going to have fun while listening. slowly, one of your hand reached back to the zipper. it took a lifetime to undo a few zips, though in your world it was only a few seconds.

already way too much time. he gave up, grabbing you by the arm and spinning you around so your back could press up against his front. the bathroom mirror being right infront of you both, you kept your eyes on him as he began to talk. his right hand makes sure to wrap around your neck so your eyes don't do him the disservice of wandering.

"you tease me every single day, y/n. every day you're with him. kissing him, hugging him- quite frankly, i don't wanna talk about what you two do together, it'll just piss me off," he interrupted himself, breathing in for a second.

"but i finally get to have you all to myself, alone, and you fuckin' stand there and tease me in that dress? d'you have any idea how hard this night has been for me, baby?" he questioned as he pressed his lips against your cheek. while putting emphasis on the word, he decided to also make you feel something very hard that was growing in his jeans.

you hummed in pleasure, moving your ass against his hard slowly. this made him hiss, tightening the grip on your neck.

"i think you're gonna have to take all of me now. make up for it, no?" he proposed. but he didn't even have to; he knew that he has you trapped in an imminent chain. all signs only pointed to:

"yes."

"then take off your dress, beautiful."

that was how it all lead to this point. you sat on the sink, naked and legs spread wide open. how it lead to steve mercilessly rutting his cock inside you to the point where your mouth wasn't even capable of moaning his name anymore.

"good God," he groaned, hands grabbing you by the thighs and roughly pulling you closer. one hand gripped your neck again, forcing you to lock eyes with him.

the green sweatshirt he wore here was off quite quickly, though his pants were simply pulled down  as well as his boxers. he clearly didn't want to waste anytime but that didn't matter to you. the quicker he got inside of you the better.

your g-spot was being bruised and abused by this man, each thrust giving you that same wondrous sensation that got you closer and closer. there was something so specific about the way he stretched you out, how each vein from his girth caressed your walls and the way it almost hindered his roughness.

"look at you," he murmured with a hinge of endearment, "my good girl, my good pretty girl. taking every inch of my cock for me."

'my'. he always used that word 'my' when he knew it wasn't (totally) true. this was bad for you, it was so bad. but you couldn't never bring yourself to the focal point of guilt. not when your focal point was wrapping your legs around his torso as he lifted you up, slamming you against the wall beside the sink.

claiming your body with his strokes, giving you no real option but to scream his name.

"you gonna cum for me, angel? tell me, has your precious boyfriend ever gotten you this close?" he asked as if this whole ordeal was normal, as if it was normal to fuck a taken woman.

it was humiliating as it was gratifying. but you answered every question, gave into every taunt, moaned at every position, fuck, flick of his tongue. you were his. some stupid boyfriend didn't matter.

you answered sheepishly, "no, steve. only you. it's always been you."

your arms were wrapped around his neck tightly as you felt your stomach grow heavy and your legs grow weaker. he seemingly felt it too, burying his head in the crook of your neck after grunting loudly.

"shit," he cried, turning his head to the side so he could plant some sloppily placed kisses on your skin, "and you love it don't you? love my cock buried deep in you. love cumming all over my dick while your boyfriend wonders where you are, you love it don't you baby?"

him whining his words, begging you to release like he needed it more than oxygen seemed like pure mockery. jeering at your pathetic desire. your walls sunctioned around him, much to your dismay, as it let him know how powerful his words were.

he finally hit that spot that made you scream with pleasure, forcing him to quickly wrap his hand around your mouth. he wanted to scold you until you creaming all over his shaft felt way too good to focus. he grunted harshly, dropping his hand and nearly sinking from the feeling.

but you didn't even get a chance to ride out your high, as you were already being lifted. physically. steve had literally picked you up, throwing your legs over his shoulders and burying his head inbetween your legs.

naturally, you were petrified of falling. somehow, this thrill and fear added to your elation. it almost felt like a sick form of punishment for what you had done earlier — you were literally convulsing and he was eating your cunt like he wanted you to feel pain.

"fuck, steve!" you cried, bunching fistfuls of his hair against your palms. there, he stopped, muttering, "my thighs, my beautiful angel. mine," he looked up at you, hopefully.

breathlessly, unconsciously, you confirmed to him, "yours."

him beneath you like this, watchful and attentive eyes made you get a surge of power. maybe the feeling was shared. steve harrington possibly feels controlled by you and not the other way around.

although, that thought is soon gone as he let you down. his eyes didn't leave you once. not even as he grabbed your hand and lead you to the door. he didn't open it, he didn't unlock it. all he did was press your bodies against it.

"s-steve?" you murmured, "what are you—" you glanced back to see him removing his pants fully from his body, wanting to get comfortable is what you presumed.

"oh, me?" he reiterated, "i'm taking my pants off."

you rolled your eyes at his fake cluelessness. stopping you from opening your mouth was the jolting force that was him grabbing you by the hood and forcing his backside right against his front.

"and i'm also fucking you against this door so he knows exactly who you belong to."

[irenic-raccoon]

My first proper attempt at writing a genuine fanfic instead of the joke fics I've written in the past. Idk what the title is and I'm definitely not that great of a writer so there might be typos or grammar mistakes so ermmmmm go easy on me.

It's Vyvyan x Neil. There's only one fic of these two and I gotta stick up for the less popular ships bc that's just how I am.

________________________________

Yelling, violence, and filth. An average day in the life of The Young Ones. Mike sat at the kitchen table, casually reading the daily newspaper. Vyvyan and Rick bickered about some bullocks next to the telly. And then there was poor ol' Neil. Neil, Neil, orange peel, standing there sulking and making the tea, since he practically did everything around here. All of the cleaning and all of the cooking. He was practically a 1950s house wife!

Vyvyan and Rick's banter turned violent, per usual, as the spikey haired ginger began throwing punches. He then grabbed the nearest object to whack the spotty bastard with. His weapon of choice just so happened to be Neil's rustic acoustic guitar. Before Neil was threatened to make the god-awful lentil tea they consumed every day, he was sat by the couch, playing a crappy tune. The sound of Vyvyan bashing Rick's head in with the already busted up guitar filled the room. Damn thing can barely play a note as it was poorly put back together with cheap ducktape, done by Neil himself in a futile effort to repair it. The guitar practically crumpled in his arms everytime he played a note. It's not like he'd be able to get new one anyways. None of them could even afford to use clean water. Hope you're happy, Thatcher!

The gloomy hippie turned his head at the sight, wearing his trademark frown. "Awh man, that's really heavy, Vyv. I've been, like, making a concept album for about two months now, and I was finally coming around to one of the songs. Not like any of you care, since you all hate me so much-" He was cut off with a shared "SHUT UP, NEIL!" From both the punk and the poet. Mike just nodded, agreeing with the statement as he continued to read his paper, wearing his sunglasses indoors. Neil sighed heavily as he began pouring the lentil nightmare that they considered "tea". He'd have to tape up his guitar some more, if there's even any tape left, that is.

Neil served them the lentil slop before getting assaulted with whatever item Vyvyan chose to use, then he sulked up the stairs to his bedroom, dragging the broken guitar behind him. As Vyvyan saw him do so, a peculiar thought came to to his mind, "I could fix that easily." It's true, he could, but he didn't want to be nice, especially to Neil of all people! On the other hand, Vyvyan was extremely bored. Even the violence was getting somewhat tedious. Not like he'd stop anytime soon, but Vyvyan hasn't partook in any of his actual hobbies in a long while. Like combining random chemicals to make some sort of "medical breakthrough", only for it to end up being explosive. Or tinkering his beloved car. Hell, Vyvyan even played guitar as well, he just wasn't able to play since he broke his beyond repair. In comparison, Neil's guitar would be a breeze.

Vyvyan decided that he was going to snag that guitar from Neil real quick and get working at it in the toolshed... Not like that, you pervy! He was definitely not doing it to be nice to Neil. Of course not! It's not like he held some sort of miniscule soft spot for him. He also didn't deep-down admire how much Neil did for them all, even if he moped about it constantly. Vyvyan ESPECIALLY did not like how Neil looked in that dress that apparently belonged to Rick. Nope, that image definitely didn't come to mind every once in a while when he's having a good wa- *BANG!*

Loud construction noises came from the dinghy tool shed Vyvyan put up months ago. Okay, he wasn't the best handy man. Bugger off, he's doing his best!

"Vyayan." Rick called out, standing outside said tool shed, hands on his hips, ready to yell at him for whatever he did this time. Vyvyan ignored him.

"Vyvyan!" He called out louder. Vyvyan ignored him again.

"VYVYA-" Rick screamed before the door cracked open, only for Vyvyan to hit him over the head with a hammer. That'll shut him up for a bit. He needed to concentrate, for once. He actually wanted to make sure he did a good job on fixing Neil's guitar.

When any of the housemates came along to ask what he was doing in there, he'd respond with something outlandish like "A time machine to prevent Rick from being born". Mike only asked once before going about his own business. Rick tried to be nosy, but it'd only come back to hit him over the head. Literally. It didn't take long for Rick to get a headache and a shiner from it all. Neil didn't bother to ask, likely based off the results from Rick. Instead, he only came by the tool shed to ask for the watering can, in which Vyvyan tossed at him from inside the shed. It nearly hit him but instead it hit the ground next to him. He thought it was strange, but Neil didn't feel like getting a shovel to the groin like Rick, so he just went about his gardening, even if his plants are past their death. They were so shriveled up and dark you couldn't make out what he even planted in the first place.

Vyvyan would take breaks throughout the day, causing the usual chaos around the house, but he made sure to return to the toolshed to finish up that guitar. He did this for the past two days until he was finished. He honestly felt proud with his handy work here, even if it didn't look the best. A few dents and scratches were permanent on its body, but it was a major improvement overall. Vyvyan decided to test it out, tuning the strings by ear and playing an a simple A chord. Bloody brilliant! He was lucky that his uncle Eddie taught him a thing or two about tools, even if he was a total tool himself. He was pretty sure him and Rick's uncle were going out. He cringed at that thought. Rick's uncle was as much of a pratt as Rick himself was. Must be genetic, similar to how alcoholism runs in Vyv's family tree.

It was dark out and Neil was still awake in his room, insomia keeping him up as he painted out his astrological chart. Some of that hippie bullocks he likes. He heard foot steps outside the door, but paid no attention to it, that's until he heard the door crack open. As soon the tall brunette turned his attention to the door, it was shut immediately, leaving only his guitar leaning against the wall. Neil's eyebrows raised, perplexed. It was like his guitar came back from the dead. Was he being haunted by the ghost of his guitar? He didn't even think that they had souls. He slowly made his way to the door, looking to see if anyone was out there. No one was in the hallway, but in the corner of his eye he saw Vyvyan peeking his head out his door like a meerkat, before quickly closing the door behind him. Suddenly, Neil felt like his stomach was full of butterflies... That might just be the lentils acting up again. Time to continue that song on the toilet, hopefully without being hassled this time.

[andiwriteordie]

best me's, bleed // bravest soldier, frontlines, you're losing me - god its like. el's the only one trying to keep the relationship intact even if its w lying / pretending to be smth she isn't / fighting as hard as she can bc mike only apparently notices her then.

loss and indecision, pain // imposition, down the hallway, till it's gone - the fight abt mike not saying that he loves her, its teeming with the loss of something she thought she had unconditionally and mike's indecision. mike runs after her while she's being taken away in the police car, and he didn't know what he had till it was gone.

throw out // keep it, tired // phoenix, rising from the ashes, mending all her gashes, dealt the final blow - she's worked so hard to build this relationship (again, even if through lying) and she's used to bouncing back, and love turning out to be conditional or not for all parts of her, but she didn't think it'd be from mike, who took care of her, who was her first friend. that might've been her final blow.

love // dying, signals - her old self, the one who needed mike to be there and would need him to save her is dying, and mike can't tell that, he still views her as the scared little girl who ran away from the lab, who hasn't learnt anything abt the world and how it works or how to keep a friend. she keeps showing him that she does. she's dealing with the death of her dad and bullying and trying to be normal so desperately, and the loss of her powers, which were a constant to her, so she knows about the 'real world' but mike refuses to see her as she is.

don't understand // i know you don't, cure would come // i fear it won't - mike doesnt understand how she wants to be loved, and its not the same way that the little girl wanted to be loved, and since he's still in that mindset, he won't ever learn to love her the way she needs unless he is cured of his incorrect thinking abt her and what she wants from life and love, and el thought it might happen eventually (you can see in the airport scene that she had hope, but it was extinguished after 'from mike' on the card w the flowers) but now el thinks it might not, and she has to live with that.

~

ANYWAY hi andi this long ass ask is for u !! i Meant it when i said i was insane abt el - you're losing me btw. 😭💗 love u

SARA I'M SHAKING YOU SO VIOLENTLY

tagging abby in this as well @strangeswift bc if i have to suffer through reading this (i mean that in a good way i promise) so does she

no but literally you hit the nail on the head. this is one of taylor's saddest songs imo, and it really does just sum up el's feelings towards mike and how unloved their relationship makes her feel! god i'm so so upset over this, but it's sooo good 😭😭😭

[scheodingers-muppet]

sorry i haven’t been posting i lowkey forgot i was real. but anyways back on my bullshit let’s go

fearless. y’all know the drill

Fearless: Steddie. Eddie to Steve. 1) i’m a sucker for fics where Steve just decides “who cares about homophobia, i’ll intimidate them until they leave us alone” (i know it’s unrealistic just let me have this) and Eddie is just starstruck anytime Steve stands up for him. also the line “run your hands through your hair” screams Steve. “you pull me in and i’m a little more brave” Eddie just wants to be brave, to stop running.

Fifteen: El. “somebody tells you they love you, you’re gonna believe them” “next to a redhead… and soon enough you’re best friends” her and max. “you’re dancing around the room when the night ends” you can’t convince me she didn’t do that. “your first kiss makes your head spin” “i swore i was gonna marry him but i realized some bigger dreams of mine” and “in this life, you’ll do things greater than dating the boy on the football team” we only know about el in her relations to other people. the other characters have pieces of their plots that show us who they are outside of the group. el, however, only has the rainbow room and her interactions with the party. even in california, we can see the heavy influence from her old friends.

Love Story: Lumax!! “i close my eyes and the flashback starts” she thinks about Lucas for her happy memories. “daddy said stay away from Juliet” Billy tried to keep them apart; it’s not hard to imagine her stepdad would have an issue with him too. “escape this town for a little while” it’s not unlikely that they would want to leave hawkins. “they’re trying to tell me how to feel” both the racism and people trying to help her through Billy

Hey Stephen: STEDDIE!!!!! from Eddie. “i know looks can be deceiving” “as we walked, we were talking and i didn’t say half the things i wanted to” “of all the girls throwing rocks at your window, i’ll be the one standing out there in the cold” the whole chorus reminds me of the joke that Eddie hates loving a jock, but he just can’t help it. the references to shinning and i just know eddie would call steve his “knight in shinning armor” “all those other girls are beautiful but would they write a song for you?”

White Horse: El and Mike. I think El would get her ideas of romance from fairytales and movies. “this ain’t hollywood, this is a small town” “i was a dreamer before you went and let me down” “this is a big world, that was a small town” she’s gonna move on and be okay

You Belong With Me: Byler. the whole song is about being in love with your best friend. ignore the internalized misogyny and view it as “you guys are so different, but we fit together at such a good level” “i’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re about to cry” and the “crazy together” where they comforted each other.

Breathe: Nancy about Barb. there isn’t a huge reason other than the fact that this doesn’t fit any of the breakups and i think we don’t discuss the nancy-barb thing enough

Tell Me Why: Stancy. “you know you got a mean streak” about both of them. “i remember what you said last night” and the halloween party. “you tell me you love me then you cut me down” steve did not do enough to help nancy deal with losing barb. i feel like their relationship would have been very on-again-off-again and toxic tbh.

You’re Not Sorry: Stancy again. like i said, on-again-off-again

The Way I Loved You: Jopper. “he” is bob, “you” is hopper. i fully think they dated before she got with lonnie. and that it was a rollercoaster relationship. i think they were on-again-off-again and when they were off, she got with lonnie and ended up pregnant so they stayed together. i don’t care if it’s canon or not, that’s what happened.

Forever and Always: Byler fighting. “we almost never speak, i don’t feel welcomed anymore” they used to be so much closer. “i stare at the phone, he still hasn’t called” mike didn’t write will. “did i say something way to honest?” mike telling will “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls” “here’s to everything coming down to nothing” tearing down Castle Byers

The Best Day: El. the first part about hopper. “i know you’re not scared of anything at all” and saying hopper is her hero. the second part about max. “i don’t know how my friends could be so mean” and her breakup with Mike. “we talk and window shop till i’ve forgotten their names” “i have an excellent father. his strength is making me stronger” the last part about joyce. “ you set up a paint set in the kitchen and you’re talking to me” joyce would show her so many different hobbies. “you’re the prettiest lady in the whole world” and “i love you for giving me your eyes” she starts doing her hair and dressing like joyce.

Change: the whole group, talking about the 4-year battle with a mirror/hell dimension “i’ll do anything to see it through” “the time will come for us to finally win.” “it’s hard to fight when the fight ain’t fair” “fight for what we’ve worked for all these years” “it was the fight of our lives”

Jump Then Fall: Steddie from Steve. “i watch you talk, you don’t notice” “i like the way your hair falls in your face” “i love each freckle on your face” from eddie “when people say things that bring you to your knees, i’ll catch you” i also just think this is how steve loves

Untouchable: ronance. robin loves the stars, you can’t convince me otherwise “untouchable like a distant diamond sky” “it’s like a million little stars spelling out your name” “i’m reaching out and i can’t tell you why” i also love the idea of “untouchable” being because robins scared to make her move (as we saw during her opening scene in season 4)

Come In With The Rain: stobin. platonic of course. i have a horrible feeling steve is gonna die in season 5 and i doubt robin will handle it well. “i know all the steps to your door but i don’t wanna go there anymore” the entire chorus “i know you by heart, and i don’t even know where to start”

Superstar: steddie. very steddie album. but imagine eddie going on tour and steve joking he’s gonna have to fight off all the groupies in love with eddie and he surprises him at one of his shows “you played in bars, you play guitar” “you sing me to sleep” steve would totally call eddie “superstar”

The Other Side Of The Door: lumax. we know max pushes people away when things get tough and we’ve also seen her and lucas fight and break up various times but she still loves him and misses him.

Today Was A Fairytale: i honestly can’t think of one

You All Over Me: Stancy, from steve’s perspective. he changed *because* of nancy. he’s a better person because of her. “i still got you all over me” “we were never really meant to be so i lied and i cried and i watched a piece of myself die” “held out and held on, god knows, too long”

that’s all i got

[oldarticles]

College vs. Real College

by Jake Hurwitz

Like many of you, I grew up watching Saved by the Bell, Boy Meets World, and (don't tell anyone) Dawson's Creek. Those shows taught me all I knew about relationships, family problems, and, as years passed without network cancellation, college life. Well, you can imagine my disappointment when I moved into my dorm freshman year only to discover that the college life portrayed on television during my youth was not even remotely similar to real college life. Allow me to explain:

Saved by the Bell: First of all, the fact that Zack got into UCLA without ever doing any homework (aside from that project he did with the Native American that one time) just because he got a good SAT score is ridiculous, but I won't even get into that. Zack moves in to his dorm with A.C. Slater and Samuel "Screech" Powers. Talk about a stroke of luck! Who saw that one coming?! As freshmen, Zack and the guys had a sweet common room, complete with a kitchen, which connected them to one Miss Kelly Kapowski and her two hot roommates, Leslie and Alex. My freshman year I lived in a 12 by 10 cinderblock cell with a strange Indian kid who had a nasty Hot-Pocket addiction and rampant body odor. There was no common room connecting our room to the room of three gorgeous women. Instead, we had a hallway with a puke-stained carpet connecting our room to the R.A.'s room - who, by the way, was not an awesome ex-football player named Mike but a tiny computer nerd named Barry. Yeah, my first day on campus was a let-down, and it only went downhill from there.

Boy Meets World: Just like Cory, Eric, Topanga, Sean and Angela, I applied to Pennbrook University. Sadly, I didn't get in, but not because of my low G.P.A. or because of a lack of extra curricular activities. No, I'd say the biggest determining factor in my not being admitted was that Pennbrook doesn't exist. That's probably the reason my spell check has it underlined in red right now. Anyway, as if that wasn't bad enough, I was totally thrown off when I went to my first class and didn't see my favorite teacher from high school standing at the front, ready to throw some sweet life lessons my way. What the hell, Mr. Deck? Mr. Feeny followed his students from school to school. I know change is difficult, and you might be missing that PhD, but, dude, get with the program. I mean, what am I supposed to do if Topanga gets mad at me? Or what if Angela wants to move to Europe for a year with her Dad? I can't solve problems like this on my own!

Dawson's Creek: That's when I started thinking, why should I even go to college? Pacey didn't go and he did fine. He was an investment banker, and later in the very same season, a chef. Those things sound like stuff I can do without ever getting any sort of actual training, right? So I put on a suit and went out there and gave it a shot. Amazingly, no brokerage houses or five-star restaurants hired me after my interviews. I did everything Pacey did; grew the goatee, drove a cool vintage car, even tried to use unnecessarily big words in my sentences"; unfortunately my math knowledge is at or below third grade level, and I don't know how to use a calculator. The chef thing didn't go too well when they discovered my culinary skills were limited to making Easy-Mac, and even that comes out a little watery sometimes".

What I'm trying to say is that college is not like TV. You're not going to bang Joey Potter, Topanga or in Zack's case - whoever the hell you want. Your teachers aren't gonna be Mr. Feeny or Professor Lasky (Thanks IMDB!). And you're gonna have to work hard to excel in life, my friend. But there is one upside that TV didn't tell you about. There's tons of alcohol to drink and crazy drugs to do in college, way more than any TV shows let on. So have a ball! Cut loose! Get fucked up! Hey, maybe Topanga will pass out and you can feel her boobs.

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

having will start to come out and shock the audience by having mike react very bad to then realizing it’s vecna and they cut to mike trying to wake will up honestly sadly sounds like something very plausible. on one hand i’m glad this means will actually gets screentime and something to do in the story instead of being sidelined or the other end this is probably just going to end in him not wanting to say it even more. but i can see a scenario where we the audience get confirmed he likes like/is gay but the characters don’t get informed until probably s5? idk

With Will having basically admitted that he's afraid to tell Mike how he really feels in episode 5, I can see only two possibilities for a confession:

Will feels like his relationship with Mike has reached a point where he thinks it might go well. He's just going to throw it out there and hope for the best.

Will thinks there's a very good chance that he's going to die, and he doesn't want to take this secret to his grave.

When we consider how Vecna operates, by exploiting his victims' greatest fears and traumas, then this would be the perfect time for him to strike. Will would be at his most vulnerable, regardless of the scenario. All he has to do is craft a bad outcome for him, and Will's resolve would collapse. Even if Will figured out what was going on, Vecna would have him ensnared before he could do anything about it.

Honestly, if this ends up just being an irrelevant scene where Will confesses and Mike freaks out, then the Duffers will have failed. It would be serving no purpose other than to crush Will. A scene like this after Will has already been tranced would be downright depressing, as Will would have overcome a nightmare, only to fall into it for real. Maybe it could be something that weakens him to set him up for a trance later, but that's as far as I'm willing to accept.

To me, the worst thing that could happen, aside from a legit hurtful rejection, would be for Vecna to interrupt Will's confession with a trance, leading to Will losing his nerve and backing down from confessing for real. Vecna would still have done his damage, leaving Will in a bad place anyway.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E3; Chapter Three, Holly, Jolly - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘠/𝘯, 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘈 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

El sat on Mike's couch, fiddling with the supercomm while the rest of us gathered around the D&D table.

"We just tell our parents we have AV Club after school. That'll give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood." Mike states.

I nod my head in agreement. I never liked lying to my mom, but this was our best bet. If it will give us time to find Will, I'm all in. However, based on Lucas's nervous shifting, he isn't as sure.

"You seriously think that the wei- uh, El knows where Will is?" Lucas darts his eyes at me as he catches himself.

"Just trust me on this, okay?" Mike pleads.

"He's right. Will would do the same for any one of us." My words come out softer than anticipated and I look to Lucas, Mike then Dustin. I can tell they agree with me.

"Okay."

"Did you get the supplies?" Mike asks the three of us.

I straighten up, ready to present what I brought to the table. Lucas perks up, reaching down into his backpack and begins listing off the things he brought.

"Yeah. Binoculars... from 'Nam. Army knife... also from 'Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana, and the wrist rocket." He pulls out the yellow wrist rocket excitedly, and I chuckle to myself, impressed.

"You're gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?" Dustin asked, unimpressed.

I scoff and look at my brother, knowing well enough it was better than what he brought.

"Well, what were you planning on doing, throwing a Nutty Bar at it?" I ask with a hint of humor in my tone. Lucas however, takes offense to Dustin's words.

"First of all, it's a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon's not real." I look down at my shoes. "It's made up. But if there is something out there, I'm gonna shoot it in the eye..." he pulls back the empty sling and lets it loose, nearly hitting Dustin in the face. "-and blind it."

I have to say, I've got to agree with Lucas's logic here. Then again, we never thought that anyone could move things with their mind and look what El did. I am pulled from my thoughts when I hear Mike sigh.

"Y/n?" He looked to me hopefully.

"Well, with all things considered, I figured at one point or another we would end up needing this." I pulled the makeshift first aid kit from my backpack. Among it was a handful of ace bandage wraps, gauze, ointment. Some band-aids, and even a small pair of tweezers.

I smile proudly and look to Mike who nods his head in approval. "Good idea. We don't know for sure what we are up against." He looks to my brother. "Dustin, what did you get?"

Dustin perks up and empties the contents of his bag out onto the table.

"Well, alrighty." I look to my friends to try and gouge their reactions. "So, we've got..."

Dustin begins naming off all the snacks he brought as Mike and Lucas stare at him with a confused glance.

"-Nutty Bars, Bazooka, Pez, Smarties, Pringles, Nilla Wafers, apple, banana and trail mix." He finishes off with a proud smile, and I can't help but feel bad for him. I mean, I see where he's coming from. It's smart to have snacks in case, but I also feel like it might be a last resort type of thing.

"Seriously?"

"We need energy for our travels. For stamina. And besides, why do we even need weapons anyway? We have her."

"She shut one door!"

"With her mind! Are you kidding me? That's insane! Imagine all the other cool stuff she could do. Like..." His face lights up and he runs over to the plastic Millennium Falcon and picks it up. Oh, this'll be interesting.

"I bet... that she could make this fly! Hey. Hey. Okay, concentrate. Okay?"

I stand there, crossing my arms with an amused look on my face.

She stares blankly at him as he lets the toy fall to the ground with an obnoxious clatter.

"Okay, one more time." She looks back at him, the faint look of mock confusion crosses her face and I bring my hand up to my mouth to try and hide the growing smirk.

"Okay."

I notice from the corner of my eye as Lucas drops his head in what looks to be a mix of disappointment and embarrassment.

"Use your powers, okay?" He drops it again and I can see the amusement in her eyes, which only makes me giggle.

"She's not a dog!" Mike yells.

He stomped over and ripped the toy out of his hands, while I made eye contact with El and we shared a smile.

"Kids! It's time for school!" Mrs. Wheeler's voice carries through to the basement.

We all hastily pack up our things and Lucas and Dustin run up the stairs. Meanwhile, Mike and I stayed behind to say goodbye to El.

"We are gonna need you to stay here, okay?" I ask kindly. She nods her head.

"But you can't make any noise and you can't leave." Michael pleads. She seems uneasy about this but nods in agreement.

"Michael! Y/n!"

I'm about to say something when Mike turns around suddenly and shouts. "COMING!" I jump back slightly, a laugh escaping.

"You know those power lines?" he returns to El, in a completely calm voice, as if nothing happened.

She looks between us confused. "Powerline?"

"Yeah. The ones behind my house?"

"Yes."

"Meet us there, after school." I pipe up, catching on to what Mike was thinking.

"After school?"

"Yeah, 3:15." She sends us an apologetic look, she was clearly confused.

"Mike, what about your watch?" I nudge him, gesturing to his wristwatch. I would give her mine, but I don't have one.

He catches on quickly and begins taking off his watch.

"Ah." Once it's off his wrist, he gestures for her wrist.

El smiles slightly and lets him put the watch on her wrist. She looks to Mike, a smile still on her face as he adjusts the watch. I smile to myself.

'They are too cute.'

"When the numbers read three-one-five, meet us there," I said, grabbing her attention.

She looks down at the watch and recites my instructions.

"Three-one-five."

I smile at her and give a small nod. "Yeah. Three-one-five."

She smiles kindly at me, then at Mike once more. It might just be me, but I could have sworn I saw him blushing. Suddenly, he jumps up and runs up the stairs. I stand up, and dig into my extra bag I brought from home and bring it over to her.

"So, I didn't want you to be bored so I brought some things you might like." I open the bag quickly, knowing I'm keeping everybody waiting. I pull a couple of puzzles and some paper and pens.

"I don't know if you know what puzzles are but I brought you some of my favorites." I place some of my favorite puzzles on the table next to her and she eyes them curiously.

"It's a picture that is in a bunch of different pieces, and you try to fit them all back together. It's a great way to pass the time. And, I didn't know what else you might like so I just grabbed some paper and some of my best pens. You can draw all you want. I wish we could stay with you, but we have to go to school so nobody will suspect anything. We'll be back. Promise." I smile at her and she returns it.

I swing my backpack over my shoulder and wave goodbye before darting up the stairs.

Halfway up, I stop in my tracks and run back to the bottom for a moment.

"Oh. And if you get hungry, you are more than welcome to have Dustin's snacks." I wink and run to catch up.

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part III

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so. 

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

 You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored. 

 He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

 He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status. 

 Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy. 

 He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

 Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

 You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

 “What do you mean?”

 You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

 “Are you calling him a predator?”

 You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

 Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

 “A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

 “Sounds about right.”

 “I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

 “Even him perving on you?”

 “Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

 Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

 You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

 Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do. 

 “A little.”

 You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

 Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

 “Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

 He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

 The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him. 

 “Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

 Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.” 

 You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

 Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

 That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

 *

 “Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

 “Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

 You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

 “It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

 “That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

 Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

 Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

 “Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?" 

 All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

 Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

 Fuck yes. Half the battle is won. 

 “Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

 You snort. “Try again.”

 “Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

 “Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

 Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

 “I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

 You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

 “Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

 “Holy shit.”

 Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

 “I guess.”

 This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

 Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable. 

 These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group. 

 It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands. 

 “Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped." 

 “Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.  

 Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

 You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

 “Ah, of course he did.”

 Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks. 

 “Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

 Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

 The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.  

 “Glad to hear it.”

 The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit. 

 “You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

 He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

 “Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

 “That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

 “Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

 Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before. 

 It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game. 

 You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

 You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom. 

 “You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

 You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

 “It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

 “Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

 It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience. 

 He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire. 

 You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick. 

 “Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

 That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs. 

 “Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

 “Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

 Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

 You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

 He chuckles, “You know it.” 

 Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

 He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head. 

 “You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

 “Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

 Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

 “Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

 “I have a refractory period, you know.”

 You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

 Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower. 

 *

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality. 

 The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well. 

 But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

 He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

 “I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time. 

 He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

 “So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

 “I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

 You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

 Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

 Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

 It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him. 

 You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time. 

 “No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

 You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

 He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things. 

 Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips. 

 “We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

 He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible. 

 It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

 In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

 “Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

 Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

 “The hell does that mean?”

 “It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

 You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

 It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

 And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

 *

 Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning. 

 Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall. 

 “Is Erwin here?” You ask.

 Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before. 

 “Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

 “Cool, thanks.”

 “You know which one it is?”

 Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

 The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

 You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

 It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

 “Uh, hey?”

 “Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

 Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

 His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

 “Studying?” You question.

 “Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did). 

 “Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

 Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move. 

 “So, what’s going on?”

 Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks. 

 “You need to make up with Mike.”

 Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

 “Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

 “Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

 “Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

 “Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

 “Don’t say that.”

 “It’s true,” he smirks.

 You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

 Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

 “So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds. 

 You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

 His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

 You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

 Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil. 

 In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls. 

 Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile. 

 “You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away. 

 “Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

 This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

 “Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

 Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did. 

 “You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

 He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate. 

 Are you calling him a predator?

 He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea. 

 “You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

 The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

 You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

 “Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

 “Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

 Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response. 

 But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

 He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

 And, so you do. 

 "Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

 "So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious. 

 You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.  

 "I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

 "I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

 "Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick. 

 "You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up. 

 "No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare. 

 And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike. 

 Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?" 

 "Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

 And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours. 

 Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you. 

 Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

 You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

 He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

 "No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

 Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

 He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

 "Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?" 

 "I… I don't know. You just—"

 "Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

 "Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic. 

 "Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

 Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt. 

 "Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

 "Yeah, okay," he nods.

 You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

 That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess. 

 Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from. 

*

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him. 

 "What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

 He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows. 

 "Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

 He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to. 

 Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike. 

 Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

 And, of course, Mike is too smart for that. 

 "Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

 "I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night. 

 Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?" 

 The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin. 

 Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to. 

 Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out. 

 "I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

 You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him. 

 He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college. 

 The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this. 

 "Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him. 

 You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing. 

  "Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks." 

 "What're your plans?" 

 You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek. 

 When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort. 

 And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

 "Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

 "Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

 You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind. 

 Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them. 

 "I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

 "Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

 "And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

 "I'll think about it," you stop him. 

 Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes. 

 Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'. 

 *

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch. 

 It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs. 

 You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object. 

 It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones. 

 Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint. 

 You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to. 

 Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog. 

 A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired. 

 The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family. 

 He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money. 

 Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park. 

 You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep. 

 The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.  

 "What in the world…"

 Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house. 

 It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food. 

 "Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion. 

 Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt. 

 "Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!" 

 She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest. 

 Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug. 

 You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic. 

 What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you? 

 It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

 "Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

 That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

 "Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

 "I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

 "Obviously not."

 He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time). 

 "I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days." 

 "I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

 He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

 Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

 He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

 “Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

 “And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.” 

 You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

 You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him. 

 "Yeah."

 It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead. 

 "Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

 She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

 "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

 And, she's hugging you again. 

 "I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

 You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

 He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say. 

 "Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

 He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

 Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear. 

 "So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

 "It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life." 

 Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

 "Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off. 

 Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later. 

 Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

 You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something. 

 The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day. 

 When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father. 

 "Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?" 

 "Dad!" 

 Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

 You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

 "Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

 "Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier. 

 All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

 Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

 "Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle. 

 Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches. 

 You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

 He grunts. "That makes one of us."

 Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy. 

 You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?" 

 Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

 When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins. 

*

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

 She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school. 

 "Look how cute you are with braces!"

 "Please stop."

 "All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?" 

 "Mom made me."

 "You were so skinny. What happened?" 

 "Are you calling me fat?" 

 "No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

 Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap. 

 It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his. 

 He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you. 

 Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream. 

 You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders. 

 You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh. 

 He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more. 

 So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day. 

 "She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

 "Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

 You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

 Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were." 

 "What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous. 

 Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

 "We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

 "Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?" 

 "That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

 "We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

 "So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?" 

 "Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

 You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

 Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

 You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

[ next ]

[moxfirefly]

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

[granolabird]

I’ll Always be There For You

Tonights episode was a doozy. BUT!! We got some solid Hournite moments so I’m here with a fic of Beth taking care of Rick after his fight with Artemis, and they have a conversation regarding Rick’s self-sacrifice habits. 

Warnings: Mention of injury. Lots of fluff :)

Post 2x06 so if you’re not there yet in the show, there are spoilers ahead!

Tagging @blackfemmecharacterdependency 

!! If you want to be tagged for next Tuesday’s Hournite fic feel free to ask :)

.

It’s late at the Pit Stop, but neither Beth nor Rick want to go home. Yolanda is long gone, having to comply with the curfew set by her parents, leaving Beth and Rick alone. So here they are, sitting close as they try to comprehend what’s happened. Things had been going so well, and then Eclipso had escaped, killing Issaac, Cindy, and possibly The Shade too. Rick adjusts in his chair with a grimace, his breathing labored as he struggles with the pain of his broken rib.

“Rick! Are you okay?”

Rick forces a smile onto his face as he turns to Beth,

“I’ll be alright, yeah.”

“Are you sure? There’s not much I can do, broken ribs need to heal on their own but I can double check that everything’s okay, if you want?”

“It’s a broken rib, it’ll heal in time. I’ve had one before, I’ll live.” “You’ve had one before!? Rick, how do you get yourself into these situations?”

“It wasn’t my fault. It was Matt.”

“Oh.”

A moment of silence, and Rick sighs as he sees Beth begin to fidget restlessly. She does that whenever she isn’t sure what to say. He’s pretty sure it’s a habit she’s picked up from him.

“There is something you can help with.” He offers, and Beth immediately perks up, looking his way.

“Really?” “I think there’s a cut on my arm from one of the porcelain shards from my fight with Artemis. Now that the rib pain is starting to settle, my arm is really starting to hurt.” He rolls his left arm as he says it, and Beth gets up immediately, sliding around him to look at his arm.

“Well, roll your sleeve up and I’ll take a look.” She gestures to his injured arm, and he forces back a wince as he rolls up his sleeve. 

“Jeez!” 

“What? Is it that bad?” Rick cranes his head to see his wound, but stops when it sends a jolt of pain through his cracked ribs. “Well it’s not that good. But you’ll live.” Beth provides a small laugh and Rick is glad that she still has the capacity to joke despite everything they’d witnessed tonight.

Beth walks over to the table and begins organising her first aid kit, grabbing cotton balls, rubbing alcohol and bandages and putting them into a neat stack.

“Doesn’t your costume protect you from injury? How did this happen?” She asks, and Rick sighs, rubbing the back of his neck with his good arm.

“The cape protects me. The costume is just as vulnerable as I would be without it on.” He explains and Beth’s head shoots up, her eyes wide.

“Rick!” Her tone is accusatory.

“What?” “You jumped in front of me when Artemis shot at me. If those arrows didn’t hit your cape, they could’ve killed you!”

“It was worth the risk. I couldn’t let anything happen to you. I’d never forgive myself if something happened and I could’ve saved you.” And that’s the honest truth. 

If anything happened to Beth, it would be the end for Rick. He would go off the deep end, let his rage consume him, probably get himself killed doing something stupid. She was the only person he truly trusted, the person who always had his back no matter what. The two of them had a bond like no others on the team, they grounded one another, and kept each other safe and sane. If something were to happen to Beth… Rick can’t even bring himself to think of what he might do to whoever had done it.

“Rick.” He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t realized Beth had sidled up to him with her medical supplies tucked under her arm. He doesn’t look at her, not sure if his words had been too intimate. This is just like him, to go and say something that ruins a relationship, now things are going to be awkward between him and Beth and-

There’s a soft hand on his cheek, directing him to look at Beth.

“Rick.” She’s got such a deep look of concern on her face and it tugs at his heartstrings to see her so worried for him.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t need to risk yourself for me. I can fend for myself.”

“No, Beth, you can’t. You don’t have strength like me and Yolanda, or a weapon like Court. You have your goggles, and you're brilliant, but on the battlefield I worry that isn’t enough. I worry that it’ll get you hurt one day, and if you get hurt I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Her hand is still resting on his cheek, and as he makes eye contact with her he can see she’s formulating a reply, trying to find words to reassure Rick that she’ll be alright. 

“If I get hurt, then you’ll get me to safety. You always do.”

“Beth, we saw Issac and Cindy die tonight. That could’ve been any of us. I can’t get you to safety if you’re… if you...”

“I could say the same about you.” She shakes her head softly and lifts her hand from his face, kneeling to begin cleaning his arm wound.

“That’s different.” Rick huffs, trying not to jerk his arm away when he feels the sting of rubbing alcohol on his cut.

“Really? How?” Beth asks, giving Rick a side glance.

“I’m me. I can take a lot of hits, and if something happens to me? The world keeps turning. I’m more of a nuisance than anything.”

“Rick!”

“It’s true! I have no potential, I’m not going anywhere with my life. You, on the other hand? Beth, you’re destined for great things. Everyone loves you, and you make everyone’s life better. I make everything worse. That’s just who I am.”

“I am going to give you a stern talking to as soon as I finish bandaging your arm. I just need to focus, give me a moment.” Beth huffs, as she begins to wrap Rick’s arm. 

Rick can’t help but laugh, but his chuckle causes the pain in his ribs to flare, making him stop abruptly with a grunt. 

It’s a while before Beth is done, but as soon as she is she gets up, face determined, and pulls her chair in front of Rick. Then she sits so her knees are touching his, and frowns at him. Rick can’t help but smile a little. She looks so cute when she’s trying to be angry at him.

“Hey! Don’t smile, this is serious business.”

“Right, sorry, no smiling.” 

He still smiles just a little.

“Rick, we care about you. You know that right? He shrugs awkwardly, looking at the floor. “Yolanda, Court, Pat, Mike, me, we all care about you. You can’t just keep putting yourself in danger for us saying it’s because you don’t matter, because you do matter! You matter to us!” 

A pause, and then she says a little quieter

“You matter to me.”

He looks up at her, and there are tears in her eyes. She’s genuinely concerned for him. Rick doesn’t know how to react. In all his life he cannot recall someone being so worried for his safety. His parents were, once, but his memory of them is so faded that he barely considers it real.

“You matter to me too.” It’s an awkward confession, but Beth provides Rick with a smile, and so Rick smiles back. The pair laugh for a while, until Rick’s ribs flare up again and he has to stop. 

“So, do you promise not to recklessly throw yourself into danger anymore?” Beth is back to her stern side, and he sighs.

“Fine. But if you’re in trouble there’s no guarantee.” 

“Rick!”

“Hey, I’m just being honest!”

“I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t want you to put yourself in danger because of me.” Beth pokes his knee indignantly.

“But I will. I’m sorry but I will, You’d do the same for me. It’s just the way we are, I think.” 

Beth throws her head back with a disgruntled huff.

“I hate that you’re right.”

He smiles at her, and when she moves her head back down to look at him he sees that she’s smiling softly too. 

“What are we gonna do with ourselves? We’re a mess.” Beth says with a breathy laugh, as she presses her head into her hands.

“Keep on protecting each other I guess.” That’s the best answer Rick can provide. It’s not perfect, but nothing ever is with him.

“Right.” Beth is looking at him again, and there’s something there. Some sort of tension, and Rick thinks there’s something she wants to say. Whatever it is, Beth leaves it unspoken and pushes her chair back, getting up. 

“Well, now that you’re all taken care of I should probably head home. I don’t want to get back too late.” She brushes herself off awkwardly and then starts to pack up her first aid kit.

“Oh, yeah. I’m staying here for the night, but I can give you a ride home, if you want?” Rick offers.

“Can you even drive with broken ribs?”

“Probably. It’s not that far anyway.”

“Alright, but if it hurts too much I can walk.”

Rick nods in agreement, and takes as deep of a breath as he can before he stands, powering through the pain. Then, he and Beth make their way down the stairs to his car. She hops into the passenger seat, and he slides into the driver seat. It’s quiet as he puts the key into the ignition, neither of them quite sure what to say after the deep conversation they’d just had. As the car begins to move, Beth speaks up.

“Thanks, Rick.”

“For giving you a ride? I always do that, you don’t need to thank me every time.”

“For everything. For saving me, for being there for me, and for giving me a ride. And for every other thing you’ve done to keep me together through everything. Just… thanks.”

“Oh. Uh, you're welcome I guess? It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done for me.”

“You always say that, but that’s not the point. The point is, over the last little while you’ve done so much to help me. And I’m grateful for that. You don’t need to compare yourself to me. Just know that I’m grateful.”

“I… Alright.” Rick taps his fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly as they pull down Beth’s street, and then stop in front of her house. 

There’s another moment of tense silence that is so common between the unsure teens, and then Beth turns and throws herself at Rick, embracing him in a hug. Rick is startled for a moment, and then the pain in his ribs sets in and he lets out a faint

“Ow. My ribs, Beth.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I entirely forgot!” She lets go instantly, and she looks him over frantically. 

“It’s okay Beth, I’m fine.” He chuckles, and that eases her worry. 

She still checks him over one last time with her goggles just to be sure, and then unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door.

“I guess if you’re sure you're ok I should get going... Um... goodnight.”

“Goodnight Beth. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow! And if you start coughing up blood, or the pain gets worse, call an Ambulance! Don’t call me, I am not a medical professional. Do call me afterwards though, so I can make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay Beth. I’ll be fine.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

They share one last Smile, before Beth closes the car door and heads to her house, throwing one last look over her shoulder and waving to Rick. Rick gives her a small wave back, before turning around and driving back to the Pit Stop. After tonight, Rick isn’t sure what the two of them are to each other. There was some sort of admittance, he’s not quite sure how to explain it. It wasn’t a grand confession of love, but it was something. Something has changed between them, and all Rick can do is grip his steering wheel and hope it'll all turn out alright. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his shattered ribs, he knows it’ll turn out alright.

[tatsumology]

1-cm High World

Location: Seisou Hall Courtyard

Mitsuru: Sniff sniff… Just as I thought, the scent of bread is coming from over here!

They gotta be sweet buns~☆ It smells like the ones you can get at the supermarket!

Ah, found it! So it really was here!

But why is it hanging from a tree branch? It kinda looks like a bread-snatching race.[1] Hmm?

Well, anyway. The bread will go bad if it stays here. I should bring this to the dorm supervisor[2] right away! Dash dash, ju~mp!

Uwaah!? I got stuck in a net and now I’m hanging in the air!

So basically, this is a trap someone set up? Maybe it was the mischievous Hinata-chan? Or could this have been one of Shinobu-chan’s ninjutsu tricks?

When I move my body it feels like I'm shaking like a yoyo, it's fun! Bounce Bou~nce♪

Kohaku: ...It actually caught him.

Mitsuru: Ah, Koha-chan. Hello!

Kohaku: Though this isn’t a situation to be greetin’ each other so casually…. Good day.

Ya certainly look like you’re utterly hog-tied. I'll get ya down, so don't move.

Mitsuru: Okay! I'm bad at staying still, but I'll control myself♪

Kohaku: (Even in such a situation he’s not fazed in the slightest... sorta like Madara-han.)

(Although we’re doin’ activities together as Double Face an’ I know about the ”Mikejima” name, I still don’t know Madara-han’s true self real well.)

(Even if it’s just for a short while, I feel mighty anxious bein’ in the care of someone like him.)

(I was tryin’ ta figure out one or two weaknesses o’ his, an’ then I pieced together that I needed ta go to the Track & Field Club.)

(In order to not stir up any unnecessary trouble, I can’t touch Narukami-han, who’s real close ta bon[3]. An’ as fer Otogari-han...I can’t quite grasp his physical strength just yet.)

(Rulin’ those out, I had ta choose Tenma-han.)

(Although ‘t was me who set the trap, I didn’t think he would come. Yer run-of-the-mill folks wouldn’t get caught up in such an obvious trap, right?)

(Just how much does this dude like bread?)

(Well anyhow, it’s all dandy that I’ve been able ta get him while Madara-han ain’t around.)

…. Now yer loose. ‘M sorry that I set out a trap like this, but there’s just somethin’ I hafta ask ya.

Mitsuru: Not at all! It felt like an amusement park ride, so it was fun! I’d welcome a trap like this any time!

Kohaku: I- is that so? Well, nothin’ better than a good mood right? Here, have some bread as an apology.

Mitsuru: Yaay, I scored another piece of bread! Yesyes~!☆

Munch munch…. So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?

Kohaku: Y’see.. Y’know Madara-han? The one from the Mikejima household? I pretty much only know ‘bout how he is as an idol.

Tenma-han is also in the Track & Field Club with him, right? Can’t ya teach me what kind of person he is?

Mitsuru: I got you! Then let’s change into our tracksuits and meet up in 5 minutes!

Kohaku: Thanks a lot, ya really saved me there~

…. Eh, tracksuits?

5 minutes later

Mitsuru: Okay, first of all, let’s have a match! Get ready to dash! ☆

Kohaku: (So basically, we’re gonna run? I haven’t got a clue what this has gotta do with Madara-han, though.)

(In order ta gain his trust, it’s best ta just go along with him.)

Mitsuru: Dash dash~!

Kohaku: Hollup, how far are ya plannin’ on goin’?!

Mitsuru: Thanks to the bread I’ve just eaten, I’m all fired up! It’s just so much fun to run!

It’s the first time that I’m running together with Koha-chan. You’ve gotta show how much you can run!

I’ve become a proper oniichan now that I’m in my second year. I’m not a child that you can just baby all the time!

Kohaku: Haaa… huff..

Mitsuru: Koha-chan, are you okay? Please eat some bread and jazz up!

Kohaku: Are ya serious?! If I were to get anythin’ in my stomach right now, I’d totally throw it all up.

Mitsuru: It’s gonna be fine if it’s bread! I have some …

Huh, I don’t have any bread on me?!

Let’s go to a bakery to get some! So dash dash with all I got~!

….Not with all I’ve got. I should match up to Koha-chan’s pace, then dash dash at half power~☆

Location: Time Street

Mitsuru: Munch munch… Bread is super duper tasty when you eat it after running!

Kohaku: Yer right...it’s tastin’ better than usual ‘cause we just worked up a sweat.

Mitsuru: ....

Kohaku: ? What’s the matter? Yer starin’ like a rock...

Mitsuru: I just always got the idea that you practically don’t have any friends, so I’m happy that we’re hanging out together! Ehehe♪

Kohaku: “Practically don’t have any friends”...you don’t beat around the bush, huh. Compared ta you, I don’t have heaps, but I do have some.

(‘s all well. Although Tenma-han looks like he’s got his head in the clouds all the time, he’s real aware of his surroundings. It’s kinda surprisin’.)

(.... This ain’t the time for admirin’! I totally forgot about my objective.)

(I could keep goin’ along with him, but with bread and dashin’ I won’t make any progress. Let’s cut to the chase now.)

Tenma-han. This is about Madara-han, I don’t really understand what all this runnin’ around has got to do with him. Could ya explain it so that even I can understand?

Mitsuru: Okey-dokey! Up you go~☆

Kohaku: Waah?! What are ya doin’! Don’t carry me on yer shoulders! Egh, I can’t get down if ya grab me so tightly!

Mitsuru: Mike-chan-senpai loves festivals! He carries me like a mikoshi[4]— gives me a ride on his shoulders and all. He’s a super nice person!

Whenever I’m in a fix, he helps me out. He’s a good guy. But I’ve also become bigger too, I'm already a second year!

I wanna go from being helped to being someone who helps out others!

So if you’re ever troubled about anything, Koha-chan can also come to me for advice!

Kohaku: …. Right. If I’m in a pinch, I’ll count on ya.

(His eyes are sparklin’ when he’s talkin’ ‘bout Madara-han.)

(“A super nice person” huh … So he appears like that to a kid who knows nothin’ of the face beneath the mask.)

(Though I didn’t quite get the information I was hopin’ for, I still spent a meaningful day like this.)

Mitsuru: Sniff sniff … I can smell freshly baked bread!

It’s coming from that bakery! Dash da~sh … ☆

Kohaku: Whaah?! Put me down first~!

Proofreaders

JP: Anonymous

EN: Amagiiz

Translation Notes

A bread-snatching race in Japan is mainly done during school events. Bread is hung on a string, then children need to grab it with their mouths and carry it over a course to the finish line. You can see an example of this in Mitsuru’s bloomed 2015 Sports Festival 4* card ↩︎

The dorm supervisor is Keito. ↩︎

This is how Kohaku refers to Tsukasa. ↩︎

A Mikoshi is a Japanese portable festival shrine that you carry on your shoulders. ↩︎

[boognish-worshipper]

Sunrise, Sunset

switching it up with a franklin and lamar centered fic (not exactly as a ship buuut more or less some one sided feelings?) jus a silly little idea i had that was originally gonna be a one shot sorta thing or whatever,, changed my mind tho n i’m jus gonna split it up, this is part one !!

i feel like lamar would be very oblivious about his feelings towards frank tbh LMFAOOO

//

Lamar and Franklin sometimes drove out to the highest point in Los Santos to watch the sunrise. Well, more Lamar than Franklin, seeing as Franklin preferred to sleep in. He often dragged him out of bed to go take Chop out and see the sun peak up from the horizon, lighting the city up with natural reds and yellows.

“C’mon you lazy fuck, we gon’ miss it!”

“Lamar, the sun rises every fuckin’ day! Trust me, it’ll be there tomorrow.”

“You jus’ a lazy bum who don’t wanna get his lazy bum ass outta bed. Man get up already!”

Chop barked, and Lamar nodded to him.

“Yeah, you right Chop. This muhfucker don’t wanna budge, huh? Don’t even wanna take his precious dog for a walk. You oughta be ashamed of yoself Frank.”

“Chop wasn’t even my dog to begin with!”

“Man fuck you, you became co-parent of him when you had to take him in!”

Franklin could only groan into his pillow, missing the blissful sleep he had been shaken awake from.

“Just go away Lamar! Damn!”

He felt the taller man looming over him, grabbing his shoulders to shake him further awake.

“We’re running outta time, fool. C’mon, I’ll let you ride shotgun this time.”

Chop barked in protest.

“Chop, it’s the only way we might get him out the house.”

Accepting that arguing would get him nowhere, Franklin sat up right, glaring at Lamar.

“For fucks sake man, fine. I’ll go. Jus’ lemme throw on some clothes that ain’t the shit I wore to bed.”

Lamar grinned widely at him.

“Fuck yeah! Chop, let’s go wait in the car.”

The small dog trotted not too far behind Lamar’s long legs. Franklin wondered what force he disturbed that landed him in this position. He sighed, knowing that he wasn’t exactly a saint, so there wasn’t much to wonder at all. If this was his punishment then so be it. The car ride wasn’t too long, especially not after Franklin moving out of Strawberry to Vinewood Hills, making it easier for them to get there. Minimal traffic because of how early it was helped too. Lamar never dropped his grin, just happy to do his favorite thing with his favorite person. Who wouldn’t love watching the sunrise with their best friend? Especially seeing the way the sun lit his face up, a delicate smile on his face seeing an excellent sunrise and- Woah. Where’d that come from? Lamar figured it was just his excitement to see a particularly gorgeous sunrise, using that as an excuse for the feeling that sat in his gut. As soon as they pulled up to the spot, he bounced out of his seat, keeping the door open for Chop.

“We here homie!”

“Mhm.. so where the fuck’s the sunrise?”

“Patience Frank, patience.”

“But you jus’ fuckin’ bitched at me for the last half hour about how we was gon’ miss it! Fuck you mean patience?!”

“It’s coming! Don’t ruin a moment that’s gon’ be special, F.”

He grunted in Lamar’s direction, turning around to go play with Chop for the time being. The sunrise crept up, a ray of sunlight hitting Lamar in the eye. He blocked the light with his hand, hitting Franklin with his free one.

“Ay Frank, look!”

The sunrise that crawled up from the depths of the horizon shone in glimmers of gold and pretty shades of orange. Lamar smiled again.

“Man.. look at that. It’s beautiful ain’t it-“ He turned to face Franklin, who was caught in a trance. The sun hit his face just right, and he looked incredible. Like some sort of focused statue or whatever. It was alright to admire your homies like that, right? Nothin’ wrong with admiring a dude. Franklin turned back to answer him.

“Yeah, it sure is.. you good man?”

Lamar coughed slightly, shifting his weight onto one of his feet.

“Uh.. yeah man, just thought I saw a bug crawling on yo face or sum’. But damn, I’m glad we caught this.”

“Me too. But I’m still pissed you dragged me outta bed so fuckin’ early.”

“Man what’d I say? Don’t bitch while we havin’ a moment!”

Franklin only laughed and Lamar felt something in him stir. It was good to hear him laugh.

“So now what?”

“Well, if we leave now by the time we get back into the city some of them diners should be open for breakfast.”

“This early in the day?”

“Believe it or not Frank but the rest of society does their shit earlier than you. So ya, people eat this early.”

They went back to the car, with Chop riding shotgun this time. Franklin wanted to rest his eyes until they got to whatever food place Lamar was taking them to, earning a snarky comment from him. Lamar wanted to pick a decent place to eat and eventually settled on an old diner they went to as kids. He poked Franklin, reanimating him back to life.

“Look where we at dog.”

“Ohh shit, this that diner we used to go to after school everyday! It’s still in business?”

“Guess so man. Let’s go!”

“Wait! What about Chop?”

Shit. Right. Chop looked at the two men, tilting his head sadly.

“You wanna jus’ bring the food back to yo crib?”

“Eh fuck it. Why not.”

They decided on some basic breakfast food and brought it back to Franklin’s place. The big windows in his kitchen would illuminate the room well enough, and Lamar could value the view from there.

“So tell me Lamar, why’s it you only wanna go see the sunrise? You never mention watchin’ the sunset dog.”

“Ion really know myself homie. One day I just started gettin’ up early wit’ Chop to go walkin’ n shit.”

“Can we watch the sunset sometime then? I am tired of gettin’ up at the asscrack of dawn.”

“That’s cuz you ain’t get yo 9 hours dog.”

“Man, shut the fuck up. Who the hell gets 9 hours at our age? Bozo.”

“I’m just sayin’ maybe if you got some normal sleep for fuckin’ once you wouldn’t be such a GD grouch.”

“Whatever you say bro.”

The two finished their food in comfortable silence, with Franklin scolding Lamar at least once or twice for feeding Chop table scraps.

“So whatchu wanna do now?”

“We could always go catch a movie or sum’, maybe go see that Meltdown movie ya boy Mike was talkin’ ‘bout.”

“Yeah, I never did get the chance to go see it, with all the chaotic bullshit goin’ on.”

They left Chop at home after a long goodbye from Lamar, telling him that as soon as they got back that he would get all the treats in the world and all that other mushy shit. Franklin mocked the high-pitched voice he used to speak to Chop, earning a smack in the arm from Lamar.

They arrived for a matinee showing at the the theater closest to Franklin’s house, getting a bunch of complimentary snacks and some drinks. The movie was awful, but in a way that it was enjoyable to watch. A movie so bad it was good. Franklin kept leaning in to whisper to Lamar how corny the whole thing was, saying that it was definitely right up Michael’s alley. He ignored the closeness between him and his friend as best as he could, but he still shuffled in his seat awkwardly.

“Hey uh, Frank. I’mma go to the bathroom real quick, stretch my legs n shit.”

“Aight, see you in a minute homie.”

His walk to the bathroom felt stagnant, and when he got there all he could do was look at himself in the mirror. What the fuck was his problem right now?

“Get it the fuck together LD. It’s just Frank, it’s nothing weird. Chill out.” He spoke aloud to himself.

He splashed water in his face and walked back to the room showing Meltdown. The movie was almost over and Franklin didn’t make anymore comments. Lamar sighed inwardly, just wanting to get out of there already, despite the whole going-to-see-a-movie thing being his idea to begin with. He didn’t know why he was feeling the way he did right now, and he didn’t know how to make it go away. Franklin leaned over to whisper in his ear once more, sending a chill down Lamar’s spine.

“Dog, this movie sucks and it’s almost over anyway, you wanna just get out of here?”

“Uh.. yeah, yeah. Chop’s prolly missin’ us right now anyway.”

Lamar drove them back this time, driving a lot faster than he should’ve been.

“Woah, homie slow down! What’s the fuckin’ rush for?!”

“I jus’.. Ion know I’m not feelin’ too hot right now and I really jus’ wanna get back to yo place. Maybe lie down or sum’..”

“That ain’t gon’ happen if we get in a fuckin’ car wreck though!”

He slowed it down a bit hearing Franklin’s concerned tone, frustrated by that feeling again. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch. They pulled up into Frank’s driveway, Lamar nearly knocking over his recycling can, earning another disgruntled comment from Franklin.

“You been actin’ so weird bro, what’s goin’ on?”

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe the food we had jus’ not sittin’ right wit’ me.”

“Well, like you said go lie down or sum’. You wanna sleep in my bed for now? I’ll go take care of Chop or-“

“Uh sure, aight. I’mma go.. do that.”

Franklin looked at him like he had two heads, lifting a brow up in suspicion.

“Aight then, holla at me when you feel somewhat better.”

Lamar basically ran down the stairs to Franklin’s room, closing the door tight behind him. He slid down the door, looking straight ahead. Why did he feel so- so weird right now? He had a pleasant day overall with his best friend, what could possibly be bothering him?? He tossed his head back, making a small thud sound against the door. Groaning out loud, he did a walkthrough of today. He drove to Franklin’s, wanting to see the sunrise. Nothing unusual, this was a common thing they did. The sunrise was pretty, and lit everything up wonderfully. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. Franklin wasn’t entirely a buzzkill when they made it there, if anything he looked tranquil, the sun making his brown eyes glow. Then what? They got food, which tasted just like how he remembered from when Frank and him were just teens. Went to a movie which they basically talked the whole way through, Franklin continuously whispering in his ear. His voice so low and close made him feel hot all over, but it was just because whispering was like that no matter who was doing it. So what the hell was his problem right now? He must not have noticed how long he was in there, because he heard a light tap at the door.

“Lamar? You good homie?”

He rushed to stand up, pretending like he just woke from a short nap.

“Uh, yeah dog, doin’ just fine. Think layin’ down helped.”

“Good. You want me to take you home or do you wanna stay here?”

Part of Lamar wanted to stay just to be around Franklin a little while longer. The other part of him wanted to run right out the door. He thought it over, and figured he might need time to himself. He didn’t think he had it in him to be around Franklin after such a strange day. At least, a strange day for him. Franklin was thankful for the fact they had one normal day to hangout without shenanigans on Lamar’s part… besides the way he had been acting up to now.

“I think I’mma jus’ head back.”

“Aight then.”

The car ride back was silent. Lamar felt like the air was suffocating him, like any minute he’d pass out. He shifted in his seat to look out the window, familiar streets coming up. He didn’t want to look at Franklin for some reason, turning away from him.

“Hey, we here.”

He sat up, getting ready to get out of the car, until Franklin grabbed his wrist. Lamar felt like he was burning him with the contact.

“Ay man, what the fuck’s your problem today?”

“I already told you, it was the food or sum’, chill out dog.”

He loosened his grip, looking unsatisfied with his answer.

“Man fine, but if you hidin’ somethin’ from me I wanna fuckin’ know.”

“I’m not, I promise you.”

“You better not be, you mysterious bitch. Remember, you dragged me out of bed to hangout today.”

He winced, feeling guilty somehow.

“Yeah F, I know.”

Lamar looked back at his house, not wanting to get caught in Franklin’s death stare.

“I’ll see ya later or sum’ Frank.”

“See ya homie.”

He turned back, watching Franklin drive away. Torn between a relieved mood, and a pang of loneliness. As he walked inside his house, he slammed the door in frustration. Franklin and him were on the same page- he didn’t know why he was acting the way he was. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he went to a last resort to get an idea of something. That stupid psychic shoutout website that was growing in popularity. At least it was free.

Hello. What brings you to Miss Marcy’s site?

fuck you think, lady. help me out here

What with?

some fuckin explanation for why i feel weird rn

Were you just with a friend?

uh yeah

kinda why i’m here to begin with

I see. How close are you to said friend?

well, he like a brother to me ig? idk

never thought 2 deeply abt it.

A family friend? Hmm… I’m seeing the letter F, or T.

damn, you kinda good. it’s f

Wait a minute, I’m getting another letter. L!

yeah! my name starts with l!

You wouldn’t happen to be… I see it now… Lamar?

woah, you really fuckin good lady.

Well, I know I’m a psychic, but I have a feeling I spoke to your friend already.

you did?

Since when did Franklin visit stupid sites like this? He felt a blush creeping onto his face, wondering if Franklin might’ve been in the same boat as him at some point.

Yes. I think I have the answer to your problem, Lamar

please.

anything’ll help

Are you absolutely sure you want to hear it?

When I spoke to your friend, he didn’t seem too pleased with what I had to say.

c’mon lady don’t be a cocktease rn i need help

Well… okay.

You love him.

uh duh

he’s my best friend

why wouldn’t i?

No, I mean

You’re… *in* love with him.

His jaw went slack. He stared blankly at the screen. What?

the fuck?

uh no

ain’t no way.

I’m seeing a long time friendship. Lots of pining.

you ain’t seeing shit lady

u got it wrong

I knew you would say this - you can be mad at me all you want, but think it over

seriously, just think it over.

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself.

“Fuck!”

He tossed his phone across the room onto his worn down couch. That didn’t solve his problem. If anything, it just made it worse. Love? Franklin? Him? What the fuck was that bitch smoking? He threw his palms over his face, groaning. He didn’t wanna think about what the fuck she meant. Because there was no way in hell he was in love with Frank. He couldn’t be. That was his day one. His best friend. That would be wrong, right? He paced around his living room, mind racing too quick for his liking. That couldn’t be the explanation for today. No way. That’s just ridiculous. There’s no way… no way he-

Then he thought about it. Like, really thought about it. The gears in his head were running at full speed now.

“Oh shit.”

//end of pt 1!!!!! this is already long as is, and i think i’m gonna finish it in another part or so. apologies for any grammatical errors ofc 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️

[allaboardtheussharringrove]

So @billy-baby mentioned That 70’s Show and Harringrove, and it reminded me of a *whole ass* set of hc’s about a 70’s/Stranger Things AU that has been sitting in my notes for literal years collecting dust, so here it is:

-Billy & Hyde would be besties, probably neighbours in the same shitty neighbourhood

-They headbang to hard rock and metal, jam to 60’s & 70’s rock while drinking TONS of beer and hotboxing the Camaro and El Camino, respectively

-Bands they’d have in common: AC/DC, Black Sabbath & Ozzy Osbourne, Scorpions, KISS, Judas Priest, Van Halen, and Led Zeppelin just to name a couple

-Hyde always gives Billy shit for like, never wearing a shirt, Billy gives Hyde shit for his ever-present sunglasses & sideburns

-They know each other’s parental problems, and take refuge in the Forman’s basement/the empty Harrington house (yes, we’re talkin’ a Hawkins, Indiana/Point Place, Wisconsin mashup here)

-Billy still has a major crush on Steve (Harrington that is, Steven Hyde will only be referred to as Hyde [and that possible name mix-up could cause some hilarity whenever anyone calls out “Steven”, and some embarrassing rumour drama for Billy, Steve, & Hyde (or omg a block party at the Formans where Kitty calls out “William! Steven! Michael!” And she turns around and has Billy, Will, Hyde, Steve, Mike, and Kelso starting at her expectantly)])

-Billy probably also thinks Eric and Kelso are kinda cute, but total dumbasses, they both definitely annoy him

-Fez would have a totally awkward and hilarious crush on Billy, and you just know Billy would flirt with him on purpose just to make him nervous (this might make Steve a lil jealous and annoy him to no end)

-Jackie would have the BIGGEST crush on Steve, after Kelso, and drag him around to go shopping and shit, he would tolerate it but Billy would absolutely hate her as a “bitchy rich entitled snot-nosed brat” cause she would be vocal about him being poor and he’d have to be calmed down by Hyde and Steve all the time

-Billy would give Hyde an unimaginable amount of shit for going out with Jackie, hooo boy!

-Steve would get a kick outta Kelso, but I think he and Eric would be pretty close friends, with Steve always pushing to hang around at the Forman’s cause Eric’s parents are always present, as opposed to his empty house (he adores Kitty Forman for SURE as the mother he never had)

-But the gang would surely hold parties at the Harrington’s....and only sometimes get away with it (both these groups are known for their KEGS! and the 70’s teens would lose their damn minds over Keg Kings Billy & Steve)

-Billy would put the charm on for Kitty sometimes just to see her blush, and Red would get annoyed and just a little threatening saying something like “Like to see how charming you are with my foot up your ass” and Billy being the abused kid that he is automatically takes it a little too seriously- probably flinches, goes a little pale, stutters out a “Yes sir, sorry sir”

-This would make Kitty and Red a bit concerned, pay a visit to the Hargrove household- I wouldn’t be surprised if they experience Neil putting Billy down or catch a glimpse of a smack or something and they would for sure take action with Red intimidating Neil cause you know he could

-Anyway! Girls. Robin and Donna would be THE BEST FRIENDS EVER, cause Donna had no other cool girl friend to hang out with and you just KNOW Robin might have an “itsy bitsy” (huge) crush on Donna, cause she’s Hot Donna, also they’re both super into female empowerment (and honestly, when Donna/Eric break up I could see her maybe falling for Robin too)

-Donna and Billy would be buds, she might like him for a hot minute but be cool with him being gay (Out of everyone in the 70’s gang, I think he’d most likely share this with her - cause she’d probably figure it out - even if it’s just to gush about their dumb, brave, pretty brunette boys to each other)

-Max would LOVE Donna, not just because of the hair (but also redhead solidarity is important), but because they’re both badasses and would totally vibe together- Max, Billy, and Donna would be an unexpectedly fun trio (and Billy would complain about having to drive the “GingeTwins” around all the time or something to that effect)

-And Jackie having to babysit Erica (because Donna does it sometimes, but she’s out for the night) would be the best thing ever good lord, Erica would put Jackie in her place, but they’d probably make up some schemes together too

-Also Erica would be absolutely appalled at having a similar name to Eric, she’d probably call him something along the lines of “Supreme Nerd” or “King of the Nerds” and have an endless supply of unimpressed looks for him during their debates of whose name is better

-Eric would totally join Mike, Will, Lucas & Dustin in their nerd exploits (STAR WARS!) And he and Dustin would get into loooong nerd debates

-I think Kelso would join Dustin & Lucas (and maybe the other boys too) in doing mischievous experiments including but not limited to: pyrotechnics, wrist rockets, radios and electronics... He’d begrudgingly listen to the scientific explanations of the boys (which would all fly right over his head) and they would have a moderate success rate, but also have to run away from the trouble they’d get in

-Lucas and Hyde would always be cool, but after finding out about Hyde’s biological dad they could become closer (Hyde’s dad and Lucas would have the best banter)

-Will and Eric would geek out over comics, and I think Eric would be super nice/supportive about seeing Will’s drawings

-Jonathan would be pretty quiet at first, but might talk to Fez since they’re both kinda the odd man out in each group (and he’d be genuinely NICE to Fez, *side eyes 70’s teens*)- then he’d be roped into doing random/stupid/mildly illegal stuff with the gang

-And despite Billy & Hyde being besties, I think Jonathan would bond with Hyde over shitty dads (plus I think Hyde would love Joyce, and she’d be another offer of refuge for him & Billy) and WEED WEED WEED

-Actually that might definitely be a sub-trio: Jonathan, Billy, & Hyde- they’d all have each other’s backs when it came to family drama (and later on when Hyde gets his record store, he’d offer them both jobs and Jonathan would be over the fuckin’ moon and work there)

-Billy would for sure work for Red in his muffler shop, and Red would take him under his wing, probably unwittingly become the father figure Billy never had.

-Nancy, hmmm, well she’s on the richer side of town so her and Jackie might be friends? but she’d for sure get annoyed with Jackie’s shallow bullshit

-OH and Robin would also hate Jackie I think, ‘cause of her entitlement and relentless obsession with boys (poor Jackie, I’m not setting her up for anything great here huh)

-So that’d be why Steve is friends with her, if only ‘cause he feels bad when she alienates herself from the rest of the teens, they (and I hate to say this) *could possibly* date for like 5 minutes, it’d be a REALLY hard time for Billy...and Kelso. And those two would probably come up with some hairbrained scheme to break them up (and succeed, but each get ripped a new one because of it)

-But at least the group of teen girls would be bigger if Donna, Robin, Jackie, and Nancy all hung out together sometimes (and if they tried to have a sleepover or something there would be toooo many idiot boys trying to creep on them, I think Billy would be the voice of reason and tell them they’re all being dickheads)

-And he’d give Fez a fuck ton of shit for being such a voyeuristic creep, probably make him stop hiding in people closets (wait what? Fez is like constantly coming out of closets in that show?! hello?? is that a thing??? Oh ho-ho they’d have a whole talk about that)

-Steve would get a kick outta Fez, probably think he was the funniest dude on the planet, as I’d say they’re the goofballs of the group (and yes, I am mostly excluding the King Steve narrative from this and using only cool mom Steve, cool? cool.)

-Steve might also have a lil crush on Donna, (‘cause a strong personality and blue eyes is like his kink, we all know this) but Eric would throw a fit about that and then they’d be all buddy-buddy discussing Donna & Billy (I think Eric being kind of a dumbass about his own gay kiss might put Steve off for a bit [and make Billy super hesitant and real pissed], but I also think Eric would be cool with hearing Steve out about his big bisexuality-discovery-adventure)

-Donna and Eric trying set Steve and Billy up by saying they’re all gonna hang out, and then like locking Billy/Steve in a room together or something and leaving😈

-When Billy/Steve’s relationship comes out, Hyde’s reaction is probably “That’s cool, man” Kelso would make some corny statement about how hot *he* is, Fez would probably fangirl over it with big ole heart eyes, Jackie would be like “weird, whatever”, Kitty would get flustered and then overly excited about it after a while, Red would be uncomfortable but okay with it saying something like “I better not catch you two dumbasses doing anything in my house”

-Ohmygod, Red as a father figure to Billy, Kitty as a mother figure to Steve, and they end up being so supportive of the boys ‘cause they have to put up with so much parental shit (say what you want, but the Formans have compassion) and they convert their house/backyard into a little private prom for the whole gang just so Billy/Steve can dance together and be themselves

-Billy, Steve, and Robin would die laughing every time they saw/talked to Leo. And I feel like Robin would talk her way into a job at the Photo Hut and then just end up being the manager and hires Jonathan herself to do the developments

-And you know how Hyde is always punching Kelso in the arm? Well he’d always get one, and Billy would punch the other arm as he’d classify Kelso a special kind of idiot, they’d always be teasing Kelso together, but Billy (and Steve I’m sure) would have some wicked BURNS that Kelso would love

-Steve and Kelso as friends? Sure, pretty boys gotta stick together~ especially when Steve gets called that by Billy, and then Kelso insists he’s a prettier boy, and Billy either rolls his eyes or flirts aggressively cause Kelso doesn’t understand WHY that’s Steve’s nickname, and it’s a whole can of worms you guys

-(And I didn’t forget about El, I’m just not quite sure where she fits in this AU... she probably doesn’t have powers and is the new kid who moves into town cause of a bad home life, she’d befriend Max in school and then I think Donna would take her under wing, then she’d be a hit with the teen gang cause she’d break her quietness with witty comments/one-liners, and since she’s very intuitive still, she gravitates towards Billy & Hyde and there would be some touching heart-to-hearts about shitty parental situations followed immediately after by inappropriate offers of beer to which she responds with a firm “gross”)

-And finally, *the Circle* would be so much bigger and funnier with the Stranger Teens in it