#being a middle schooler is wild you’re just out there doing whatever

[deityofhearts]

thinking about my middle school worstie who would make me roleplay transformers with them on kik even though I was one, bad at role playing and two had never seen or read anything to do with transformers

[latenitetea]

what a shame it would be - rodrick heffley

in which rodrick takes a few too many shots...

cw: underage drinking, swearing

word count: 3,228

~~~

Great victories deserve great parties.

That was the way of thinking at Crossland High School when it came to homecoming. After weeks of anticipation from the entire student body, the Crossland football team had defeated their rivals with one touchdown in the last five minutes of the homecoming game. It didn’t matter that half the school didn’t care much about football to begin with - with a victory that big, there were bound to be parties all over town.

As a varsity cheerleader, you weren’t surprised that you were invited to the biggest homecoming party in town. And you weren’t surprised by the atmosphere when you arrived, either.

Music blasted in your ears as you entered through the backdoor of the crowded house. Cheerleaders were laughing so loud you could feel it in your whole body, people were drunkenly dancing and making out with each other on the dance floor, and the football team was taking a celebratory round of shots for their biggest win. Hell, you even saw the student body council and academic decathlon team on the dance floor. Bottles upon bottles of all kinds of alcohol were being pulled out at the bar - kegs of beer, bottles of tequila and vodka, and a giant bowl of punch that was being spiked with a frothing drink. Still, the abundance of alcohol wouldn’t last long at a party this big. But before you could get to the bar to get your pick, you heard your name being called from across the room.

“Y/N!”

There were too many people covering your view to see who called you when you turned around, but you knew exactly who it was coming from. It wasn’t too hard to weave your way through the drunken couples and football players to find him.

Rodrick was leaning against the basement’s doorframe, wearing his favorite Converse, a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, and his Loded Diper t-shirt with a cargo jacket. He ruffled his unkempt, raven hair and took a long swig from his solo cup.

“Give me your keys.”

You raised your eyebrows, stifling a laugh. “Well, hello to you, too.”

After taking another sip of his drink, he held out his hand. Rolling your eyes, you took your lanyard and dropped your keys in his hand, which he put in the pocket of his jacket.

“There we go.” His mouth quirked up into a smirk. “I thought you said you’d never go to another homecoming party again after last year. You still owe me for that, you know.”

Memories of Rodrick holding you steady as you stumbled to his van and slurred your words resurfaced in your mind. You couldn’t hide the tinge of embarrassment that crept up on your cheeks.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Do you or do you not remember me having to brush your teeth because you forgot how to do it yourself?”

Your once pink cheeks now turned scarlet. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“Fine. But I definitely don’t owe you anymore after being the only reason you didn’t fail physics last year.”

He paused, taking another drink from his cup. You could tell the alcohol was beginning to slow his thoughts already.

“I guess I stand corrected.”

You cursed yourself for being sober, wishing you had more confidence to flirt with him. You swallowed the forming lump in your throat and attempted a compliment.

“Look at you, making yourself look nice for homecoming. You even got the new converse and eyeliner and everything.”

God, that couldn’t have been worse. You mentally facepalmed yourself as the words left your mouth.

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve gotta make myself look nice if I’m gonna get one of these cheerleaders to go home with me, right?”

Your embarrassment dissipated into a twinge of disappointment. Quick to cover up any sort of reaction, you cleared your throat.

“I’m gonna go get myself something to drink. See you around, Rodrick.”

You heard him call out a warning about “knowing your limits,” but you didn’t turn around or respond. At first, you were only planning to get buzzed tonight. Your disappointment, however, made a change to your plans.

“Hey, Y/N,” your friend, Allison, said from the bar with a wave. “What do you want to drink?”

“Something strong,” you insisted. With a nod, Allison filled a solo cup with vodka and topped it off with the frothing punch.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She asked as she handed you the cup. You took a swig, ignoring the way the alcohol burned your throat.

“Who knows,” you sighed. “I just got back from talking to Rodrick.”

Allison raised her eyebrows. You paused for a moment, but you gave in to the temptation of getting your feelings out. “Every time I try to flirt with him, I feel like he ignores it. Or worse, he just brings up other girls.”

“Maybe you’re just not flirting hard enough,” Allison suggested. Her comforting smile became smug, pointing to the solo cup in your hand. "Or maybe that liquid courage will finally get you to tell him how you feel.”

The taste in your mouth turned sour at her teasing. Last year’s drunken shenanigans seemed harmless compared to any hypotheticals of you blurting out “Hey Rodrick, I’ve had a crush on you since last homecoming!” and forgetting it by morning. You placed your cup on the bar, deciding that your original plan of a buzz was the safer option. “Actually, I think I’m gonna stick to beer tonight.”

Allison let out a laugh. “Whatever you say. But your feelings are gonna eat you alive at some point. You’re gonna have to tell him how you feel eventually.”

“Emphasis on eventually. See you, Allison.” You gave her a small wave and went out to the dance floor, hoping to find some of your friends and dance your way into forgetting about Rodrick.

~~~

As the wild night began to die down, waves of stumbling high schoolers started leaving the party. Watching the clock hit 3 AM, you decided that it was time for you to head home. Waving goodbye to your friends, you made your way out of the house and to your car, more than ready to open the door and practically fall asleep at the wheel and-

Damnit.

That asshole still had your keys, didn’t he?

Pulling out your phone, you called Rodrick, nearly praying that he didn’t already leave. As you put your phone to your ear, you heard another phone’s ringtone go off. Muttering a “what the hell?” under your breath, you looked up from your car.

Rodrick was standing on the sidewalk across the street, holding onto a streetlight pole as though it was taking everything in his power not to fall.

A noise of both amusement and concern left your lips, and you hung up the call and made your way over to him.

“Hi,” was all he said. His eyes were glazed over and a sheepish smile was spread across his face.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh, how the tables turn, huh?”

“I don’t,” he paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You let out a laugh. “You’re drunk off your ass.”

“No, I’m not!” He blurted out defensively. You cocked your head, giving him a do-you-really-think-you’re-gonna-convince-me look. After a moment, he sighed. “Maybe I’m a little drunk.” He let out another sigh, but it quickly turned into a fit of giggles.

Suppressing the thought that his drunken giggles were extremely cute, you draped his arm over your shoulders. “Come on, drummer boy, let’s get you home.” Rodrick leaned his bodyweight into your side, trying not to fall in the middle of the street.

“I like that nickname.”

“Where’d you put my keys?” You asked him. Instead of answering, he broke into another fit of giggles. With a sigh, you pushed down your embarrassment and started rummaging through the pockets of his jacket. He leaned his head into the crook of your neck, making butterflies swarm in your gut. You tried your best to ignore them and finally pulled out your keys from his pocket, helping him into the passenger seat of your car.

“Wanna hear something funny? I wanted to take home the cheerleader with me. But now the cheerleader is taking me home.” His smile turned into a smirk as he buckled his seatbelt, and you reminded yourself that he was only joking.

“You’re a pervert.”

“You’re pretty.”

Your eyes widened at what Rodrick had just said. The next second, you couldn’t be more thankful that it was too dark to see the blush on your cheeks. You believed that he meant what he said for a second, but the smell of alcohol on his breath brought you back to reality.

“You’re really drunk.”

“You’re really pretty.”

Instead of responding, you started the car and turned on the radio, hoping that it would act as a distraction.

Pulling out of the driveway, you started the drive home. You heard Rodrick laugh again from the passenger’s seat. And then he placed his hand on your thigh.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you tried to stop your breathing from turning shallow. “What are you doing?”

“Flirting with you.”

Your cheeks burned at his direct manner, but you reluctantly took his hand off your thigh. “You can’t flirt with me when you’re drunk.” Pulling into his driveway, you helped him out of your car and to his front door. You grabbed the spare key from under the doormat and opened the door.

After helping him to his room, you filled up an empty glass with water and grabbed a bottle of pain medicine from his kitchen, bringing it upstairs and placing it on his nightstand.

“Here’s for tomorrow when you have a hang-“

“I don’t remember how to take off my shoes.” Rodrick looked up at you from where he was sitting on his bed, his blank stare turning into another eruption of laughter. “I sound like you right now.”

You sighed, letting out a chuckle. You took off his Converse and his jacket, placing them in his closet.

“Well, as long as you don’t need anything else I better get going-“

Before you could finish your sentence, Rodrick grabbed you and pulled you onto his bed. “Can you stay a little while?” Your cheeks burned even brighter, and you knew he knew it too. His flirting was overwhelming; you thought you were going to explode from the butterflies. Still, you managed to stay somewhat composed.

“You need to sleep.”

“I don't want to sleep.”

You shook your head, but the look on Rodrick’s pleading face was enough to convince you. “Fine.”

“Why don’t you let me flirt with you?”

“What?”

Rodrick was looking directly at you. “I always try to flirt with you. And then you act like I’m just joking.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t know what he was talking about, that he was just drunk and the alcohol was talking. But Allison’s words of advice were echoing in the back of your head.

You’re going to have to tell him how you feel eventually.

“Because I didn’t think you could ever be serious about actually liking me.”

His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. “Of course I’m serious. You’re the prettiest girl in school, you like good music, and you’re just so nice. And pretty.”

You let out a chuckle. “I bet you weren’t thinking those things when you were brushing my teeth for me last year.”

"Yes, I was," He moved a piece of hair from your face. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you, Y/N.”

The smell of alcohol on his breath was enough to make you want to burst into tears. Here you were, laying on Rodrick Heffley’s bed, close enough to make out the dark outline of his pupils, and you were confessing how you felt for him. And he wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.

“Can I kiss you?”

His abrupt question silenced your thoughts. “What?”

He closed his eyes and started leaning in for the kiss, but once you processed what he had just asked, you pulled away. “Not right now.”

“Why not?”

You took a deep breath, trying to slow your racing heartbeat. “Tell you what. If you wake up tomorrow and you decide that you still want to kiss me, you can kiss me.”

He thought about your offer for a moment. “Okay. But tomorrow feels so far away.”

“Tomorrow won’t feel far if you go to sleep.”

He smiled and buried his head into your side. “You’ll stay until I fall asleep, right?”

“Right.”

“Promise?”

You felt the urge to cry again. You knew that every promise made tonight would be broken by tomorrow.

“Promise.”

You laid in his bed as his breathing slowed into soft snores. Taking one last look at him, you gently climbed out of his arms. As much as you wanted to stay, wanted to wake him up and confess every feeling you had for him, wanted to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him, you knew that would be wrong. You had to ease the inevitable future pain as much as you could.

So you grabbed your keys and left, not finding it in you to look back.

~~~

When Rodrick woke up, he could barely find the energy to open his eyes. The ache he felt across his entire body was throbbing, but he fought the urge to give in and go back to sleep. Opening his eyes, he saw a glass of water and pain medicine sitting on his nightstand.

Considering how awful he felt, there was no way he put that there. Taking two of the pills and downing the glass of water, he tried to connect some of his memories of the night before. As the medicine started to set in, some of his fuzzy memories began to clear. Taking a shot of tequila with his bandmate, taking another shot of tequila with his bandmate, your face turning bright red when he reminded you of when he took care of you last homecoming.

Even though he’d never find the courage to admit it, you looked cute when you blushed. And he always seemed to have butterflies in his stomach around you after last year's homecoming party. But there would be absolutely no way he would ever admit that.

You probably were the one that got him home last night. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed that you saw him that drunk, even if he’s seen you even drunker before. He hoped he hadn’t said anything too humiliating to you last night.

His stomach twisted with another wave of embarrassment. What had he said last night?

He stood up, noticing your jacket laying on the other side of his bed. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and unknown embarrassment. He picked up your jacket and grabbed his keys to his van, ready to give it back and thank you for getting him home last night.

But when he picked up the jacket, more memories flooded his mind. You laying in his bed, him pulling the hair out of your face, you being close enough to him that he could have kissed you.

Oh, shit.

He ran to his closet and threw on his converse, too frantic to even tie them. Running out the door, he practically jumped into his van and started the drive to your house.

~~~

You sat on your porch, drinking a cup of coffee and enjoying that crisp October air on your cheeks. Thankful that you didn’t have even the remnants of a hangover, you were certain that every upperclassman at Crossland was sporting a massive one.

You opened your phone and anxiously twiddled your thumbs at the keyboard. You wanted to text Rodrick and ask him how he was feeling, but you were too nervous to contact him after last night. Hell, you weren’t even sure if you would ever be able to look him in the eyes again.

Your concern for him overshadowed your embarrassment. No matter where your relationship with him stood after last night, you still cared about him. Pulling his contact up on your phone, you typed a short message.

Morning, sleepyhead. You feeling ok after last night?

But just as you were about to hit send, you saw a van barreling down your street from your peripheral vision. You didn’t need to see the messy writing on its side to know who’s van it was, either.

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Did Rodrick remember what happened last night? Was he here to reject you, to tell you that he couldn’t even be friends with you anymore? You wanted to run inside your house and pretend you weren’t home, but you felt frozen in place.

The van pulled into your driveway, and Rodrick stepped out from the driver’s seat. He was still wearing the same outfit from the night before, but he had his drumsticks in one hand and your jacket in the other. He ran up to your porch, almost frantically.

“Y/N?” He said.

You took a shaky breath, trying to act as casual as possible. “Hey, Rodrick, you feel okay after last night?”

“I’ve had worse hangovers. Er, you left my jacket at my house.” He handed you your jacket.

“Thanks.” You shifted on your feet nervously, looking for the right thing to say. See you Monday? Sorry I confessed my feelings to you last night?

Rodrick looked down at his feet. “Can we talk?” He blurted out.

A plethora of curses went through your head, and you felt the urge to run into your house and curl up in a fetal position until you disappeared. Still, you stayed standing where you were.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Last night, did we,” he anxiously twirled his drumsticks in his hands, “did we kiss?”

Your eyes widened. He did remember last night.

“Well, you wanted to kiss me.” Your stomach churned, and your head was swirling with so many thoughts that you couldn’t stop talking. “But we didn’t kiss because it was just the alcohol talking and I know you didn’t actually want to kiss me and that last night was just the alcohol and I get that you wouldn’t want to kiss me which is totally fine and really it’s no big deal-“

“It wasn’t the alcohol talking.”

Rodrick looked up from the ground and stepped closer to you. You had never seen him look more serious in your life.

“Y/N, everything I said last night. I meant it.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve... I’ve felt this way about you for a while. And I know I’m not a serious person, but I am really serious about this. And I really, really like you.” He took another step closer, and once again, he was close enough that you could see the outline of his pupils.

“So about that promise we made last night,” your breath hitched in your throat, “I think it would be a shame if we broke it.”

“You’re right,” Rodrick’s shy smile spread into a smug grin. He lifted your chin so your faces were barely inches apart.

“It'd really be a shame, wouldn't it?.” He said, closing the gap between your lips.

[infinitegalahad]

RAY IN THE BATHROOM

Summary: Ray is hiding in a bathroom and has a panic attack over the fact that his only real friend and the love of his life has (supposedly) left him for Brad.

Word-Count: 2.1k

Warnings: References of suicidal thoughts, ptsd, and severe anxiety. Brad is a semi-asshole. Hop on the angst train (with fluff at the end!)

A/N: I was listening to Be More Chill because let's just say that I can heavily relate to Micheal In The Bathroom due to recent events in my life. So then again, what better way to cope then using my biggest kin, Ray Person, in a totally not self indulgent fic?? Also as for the prompt requests-i'm working on them! Sorry, school has been bad. I'm keeping a promise to myself to release at least once a a week and I'm on a gen kill rampage. Idk what else to add so enjoy!

Taglist: @theboardwalkbody

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

Ray doesn’t expect himself to be hanging in the bathroom at their first year reunion. But instead of “hanging”, he’s hiding. Those emotions that never come out are now coming back to haunt him. Ray knows he can't hide behind a shit eating grin and sunglasses. He leaned up against the tub inside of the cramped room, his sunglasses tucked into the neck of his polo as tears sting his eyes.

Ray’s legs felt numb and he knows if he looks into the mirror and sees his flushed face and eyes, he won’t be able to conceal his crying. He’s not able to go back outside and would prefer to fake pee or just check his phone in the bathroom.

“C’mon brah!” Q-tip whined like a child, crossing his legs. “This hurts like a butt cheek on a stick”

“You can’t come in!” Ray yelled as he held back a sob, “The little man is going. Suck it up, buttercup.”

Q-tip had been knocking on the door for over ten minutes before giving up and choosing to pee outside. Ray let out a shaky sigh and fell onto the thin side of the bathtub, biting his lip and he batted his wet eyes with his palms.

Ray and y/n had been an unexpected trio. Partners in crime, double trouble, you went well together despite their differences. You were an educated college student and he was a whiskey tango mess who couldn’t shut his mouth for the life of it. You cried, laughed, and did everything together. Little known to y/n, Ray didn’t have a crush on her-but he was more than in love.

However, when Ray is having severe social anxiety, an event he would typically rely on y/n to help him with, his “partner in crime” falls short. Ray knows that y/n is light years better than him. Here was the smartest and most beautiful woman he had met next to a college dropout who didn’t make it past Geometry.

Now the “perfect pair” is severed, leaving one half alone in the bathroom.

Ray’s forgotten how long he’s been in the bathroom for. These types of events always felt forced, and everyone knew that. Whenever that awkwardness would arise, Ray and y/n would choose to ditch and steal a few beers and sit in the bathtub, watching an obscure eighties film in the dark, cramped room with Ray’s god awful commentary.

But even though Ray has Born American downloaded, he can’t bring himself to watch it. Now he’s laying in the bathtub, picking at grout as he softly grieves. He’s hiding in there while y/n is ignoring all of their history.

Ray first arrived at the party, making a dramatic entrance. He made sure everybody knew that he was there, especially y/n. His original plan was to wear a purple tux he had snatched from walamrt since it was ugly as fuck, and Ray knew that. But knowing that you were going to be there, Ray made an attempt with an expensive navy polo and khaki shorts, courtesy of Nate.

Upon seeing you, Ray ran over from whatever he was doing to talk to you. Whether you were OD’S or a casual jumpsuit, you looked dead drop gorgeous-and Ray never knew how to express his affections. So he pulled you into a hug and muttered a shitty joke, and you just laughed.

Over the course of the next hour, the two of you catched up about your mundane lives. It made Ray feel guilty since he knew that you were better than him in every way possible, on the road of success. Your future sounded like you would go to some fancy school and then marry a lawyer. Ray wanted to be good for you, but he didn’t know how to at all. He followed you around like a lost puppy for the rest of the party, feeling a tinge of jealousy whenever one of the guys would give you a chaste hug or when you wouldn't pay attention to him for five minutes.

Ray didn’;t know why the fuck eh was feeling so sappy. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating (even though that’s exactly what he wanted).

Ray doesn’t hate Brad, but he just hates whenever he talks to you. He sees the two of you, smiling and laughing as you catch u[. Ray knows it’s rude, but he buds in and offers to get drinks for the “three amigos”. You kindly accept and Ray goes away to get drinks. He makes sure to spit inside of Brad’s drink as a childish act of revenge.

As Ray walks down the hallway balancing the three drinks, he pauses to hide behind the door since he hear’s Brad mention his name. You and Brad had moved to the couch, sitting too close for Ray’s comfort levels. He had an arm slung over the couch, which was barely touching you, but Ray had taken it as an offense.

Standing by the doorway and leaning, he overheard Brad’s words.

“Ray’s a little shit, whiskey tango loser, sister fucking, type of man. I don’t know what you see in him,” Brad had casually said, cold and straight to the point. He truly lived up to his name.

That’s when Ray dropped the drinks and ran towards the bathroom. He didn’t hear you respond, and that was the last thing he needed to hear.

Now Ray’s sitting in the tub, no longer holding tears back, but there coming out. A sob escapes his mouth and he tries to smile, but he can’t. He gets a taste of his salty tears and tries to stop the waterworks, but they come back, bigger and faster. It’s been a while since he had a good cry-but it happened at one of the most inconvenient times. And it was over a stupid girl-who he coulnd’t deny that he was in love with.

But y/n was lightyears ahead of him. Besides, Brad was (seemingly) a better fit for her. The scenario began to play in Ray’s wild mind. The memories of “double trouble” will get erased. Their wedding will be small, paid for by the Colberts. Q-Tip will DJ, Godfather will make a speech with his horrid voice, and Ray will make a shitty joke as usual. Worst had come to the worst.

Ray hears a drunk Q-tip sing along through the door to “I wanna dance with somebody”. His feelings sink even deeper cause it makes him think; now there’s no one to make fun of drunk girls with anymore. That was y/n’s favorite hobby about these forced get-togethers.

Ray knew that at some point, he’d be forced to come out. As he chokes back the incoming tears, he waits until his face becomes dry, planning to blame it on weed or something in his eyes or the five bud lights he regrets drinking.

Knock, knock, knock, knock

Ray looks up and wipes his face, forcing a fake laugh. “Oh hell yeah, I'll be out soon.”

“Ray, it’s me.” It’s y/n’s voice, and Ray can’t believe it’s her. A part of him wants her to come in, but the other part wants him to defend himself.

“Why do you want me to come out when you can hang out with your new big strong viking? Who talks all educated and shit since you just love being around him.” Ray spits out with a few sniffles.

Based on his words and the sniffles, you can tell something is clearly wrong.

You shake your head and lightly knock again, “Please, that’s not what happened. Brad’s an idiot, and we’re just friends. “Please, come out.”

Ray got out from the tub and came close to the door, feeling your frantic breathes again the door. “My biggest mistake was showing up. I wished I stayed up watching cable porn, or I offered myself. Besides, he’s better for you. Just go away.”

Hearing him say such things made you worry even more, afraid that he could do something to himself that he’d regret.

“Ray, open the damn door. Don’t say dumb shit.” You pleaded, frantically twisting the door knob. The worry was evident in your voice.

“No, fuck you! Fuck this whole place. You’re smart; just leave me alone.” Ray banged against the door as tears came down his face. He immediately regretted his choice of words, knowing that they would hurt you. He turned away to return to the bathtub, only to stop when he heard you now sniffling.

Mega fuck.

Ray reluctantly walks back to the door and opens it, to see your face, all red and wet like this. Both of you stood there, disheveled, tears both running down your face.

Not a single word was spoken between the two of you as you ran into his arms, pulling him close as you cried into his chest. Ray used his foot to slam the door shut and then proceeded to pull you into a bearhug, stroking the back of your head as he comforted you through your sobs.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated as his tears stained your shoulder as well, “I didn’t-fuck. I’m such a retar-” He froze, knowing that you hated that word. “Idiot. I just-fuck. Don’t cry. You’ll ruin all the stuff on your face-”, Ray said as he tilted your face up and started to wipe your tears.

“Makeup. ‘S fine, I’m not wearing much. I just didn’t wanna get mistaken for a middle schooler again.”

Ray and you both let out a chuckle in the midst of your shared crying session. He’s still wiping the tears from your face as you rest your arms on his waist.

“First time we met, y’know. Godfather thought you had a dick for a long time.” Ray added, which earned another laugh from you.

You shook your head, “Remember when Trombley found out I was a girl?”

“Looked like he was about to shit himself-he wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Ugh, ‘s a nightmare.” The two of you filled the void with the awakened laughter you shared. Ray’s tiny hands moved to your chin, directing it slightly up.

“I still think you’re pretty hot either way, angel.” Ray confessed. The two of you looked at each other for a minute, seeing the love and pupils widen in both of your eyes. Standing on your toes, you and Ray’s lips gently pecked at each other. You could taste the bud light on his lips as Ray’s lips overpowered yours, gently cupping and sucking passionately.

“Fuck,” Ray breathed through the kiss as your foreheads touched, “I love you.”

“Shit, I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” You chuckled as your finger’s played with Ray’s dark hair. It’s gotten longer, and it’s at a length where he can awkwardly style it, but since Ray is Ray-it’s a mess, “I love you too. I’m sorry about Brad, you know how he is.”

“I just thought you and him were having a moment. I just started overthinking it since I thought you didn't wanna be around me. Which is chill, I was vibing,” Ray attempted to joke, which was a way to cope with his pain.

You shake your head and hold his face to reassure him. Ray looks down at you in awe, which makes a smile curve on your lips.

“Brad wasn’t touching me, he just was stretched out on the couch. Ray, don’t say that. You were in the bathroom for over an hour. I knew that you were ethier upset or having explosive diarrhea from Nate’s vegan casserole-or both.”

“That shit was beyond nasty. I bet he got all the ingredients at Trader joes and sold his soul just to buy it.” Ray quickly quipped.

“Jesus, don’t make me vomit.” You huffed as you looked at the bathtub, “Now are you gonna come out now without beating up someone?”

“Yes babycakes, as long as you do one thing.”

Cringing, you force a smile. It’s not because you don’t love him, but sometimes what comes out of his mouth can be questionable. “Yes Ray?”

He grabs your hand, which fits right into his. “Gotta show the homies who’s the alpha around here.”

You don’t mind holding Ray’s hand. You like the tight squeezes and the feel of his soft skin. As the two of you walk out of the bathroom back into the life of the party with the smell of barbeque and the august heat in the air.

“Oh god Ray, shut up.”

Ray simply responds with a goosey laugh.

[em-writes-imagines]

study group: a social media au where you work at iroh’s boba tea shop with zuko, try to keep up with your college courses, and stir up an irresponsible amount of chaos with the gaang

prev. / part three / next

((author’s note: this update is a little bit different; instead of just screenshots, i’ve written out a scene for this one! hope you guys like it!!))

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“HEYYYY THE PARTY’S FINALLY ARRIVED,” Sokka shouts the second you walk through the door, Zuko trailing behind.

“High schoolers are the worst,” Zuko grumbles under his breath, and you toss your bag to the floor with an exasperated sigh.

“But,” you force a smile, “we’re here now! What’s the plan for the night?”

“Wellll, I figured we’d start out with a good ol’ fashioned game of King’s Cup, if everyone’s down?” Sokka asks the group.

“Oh HELL yeah,” Toph runs off to the kitchen to start preparing drinks, and Katara calls after her,

“Don’t make mine too strong!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how you like it, sugar queen.”

“Wait, is that Sonic?” you ask, watching the screen for a moment. With the amount of colors swirling around the screen and Jim Carrey playing Robotnik, you find yourself almost entranced by the wild image.

“Yeah! But, I guess now that you’re here, we should turn it off.” You can hear the pout in Aang’s voice as he speaks, and laugh before joining him on the couch.

“Nah, we can let it play a bit longer! This scene looks pretty climactic anywa— holy shit, did they just blow up the pyramid?’

“Oh, yeah, there’s this whole thing where Robotnik got one of Sonic’s quills, which apparently are capable of “infinite” power, whatever that means, and now he’s as fast as Sonic— oh! And they use rings to teleport to different places! That’s why they were in Egypt, Sonic was going to all the different landmarks he could remember to try and shake off Robotnik—”

“Aang, shh,” Sokka covers the younger boy’s mouth as one of the characters begins monologuing.

Zuko sits on the floor in front of the couch, leaning against the space between you and Aang. “That is… a lot.” His tone is a mixture of confusion and what sounds like a headache, causing you to laugh.

“Jeeze, Zuko, you don’t know about the deep Sonic lore??”

“I said, shush!!!”

“Yeah, jeeze (y/n),” Zuko mimics you, barely holding back a laugh, “don’t get in the way of Sokka and his one true love, Sonic the hedgehog.”

“Will you guys PLEASE keep it down??”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You are the worst King’s Cup partner,” Zuko groans before taking another drink alongside you. “You have to keep your hand on the table.”

“I know, I know, it’s just— Katara made that rule eight rounds ago, that’s such a long time…” You draw the next card, laughing as you slap down a jack. “Aha! My rule is that Katara’s rule is GONE, no more hands on the table.”

The entire group lets out a sigh of relief, including Katara.

“Man, that rule SUCKED,” Sokka shouts, resulting in a shove from his sister.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you guys are dumb enough to keep falling it for it!”

While they continue to bicker, Aang shouts, “Seven!”

The rest of you point to the ceiling immediately, staring at the two siblings until Katara finally notices and raises her hand as well.

“No fair! Katara distracted me!”

“Rules are rules, Sokka,” Toph says, pointing at him with a laugh. “Now drink up!”

After finishing off the last of his drink, Sokka stands up, losing his balance for a few moments before righting himself.

“Where are you going?” Katara asks. “We’re in the middle of a game!”

“I need to find Appa!!!” he shouts as if it’s his life’s mission, sprinting off to Aang’s room, only to stop in the middle of the hallway. “…running...bad idea…”

“You know, for such a tough guy, he sure is a lightweight,” Zuko laughs, taking another drink.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you wake up the next morning, you’re surprised to find you don’t have much of a headache. While you definitely remember most of the night, you know you overindulged yourself, making the memories a bit jumbled…

“Come on, you’ll thank me in the morning,” Zuko holds the bottle of water in front of you. “At least drink half of it.”

“But I wanna go to sleep…” you curl up around yourself in the recliner, covering your face to block out both the light and Zuko.

“I know,” he laughs under his breath, pulling your hand away from your face and placing the bottle in it. “Just drink this first, and then you can sleep in as late as you want.”

You groan, but sit up nonetheless. “What are you being so nice for?”

“Hungover (y/n) is no fun.” He walks away once he’s sure you’ll finish the water, lying across the couch. “Besides, we have a shift tomorrow afternoon, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t complain the whole time.”

“Like you don’t complain about every customer.”

“Is it complaining if we both agree?”

“…points were made. Those fucking kids that came in at close oh my GOD I was about to lose my mind.”

“And yet you still put on that customer service smile— ‘Welcome to the Jasmine Dragon! How can I help you today?’”

His impression makes you burst out laughing, “That is not what I sound like!”

He continues, “‘I totally care how your stupid day is going! Please, tell me all about your kid and your cat and your shitty job!’”

“I’m trying to get tips, Mr. ‘Look At Me Wrong and I’ll Grab That Decorative Sword Off The Wall and Fight You.’”

“Oh, so you’re telling me you’ve never wanted to do that? Not once?”

“…okay, honestly, it would be kind of badass to just flip over the counter like, ‘hyah!’” You swing your hand around lazily, pantomiming the sword toward Zuko.

“With that form?” he laughs. “Nothing badass about that.”

You let out a yawn before replying, “Yeah, like you know— wait… you do know all that stuff, huh.”

“Go to sleep, (y/n).”

Maybe it’s because you’re about to pass out, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

Oh. So that’s what happened.

You immediately sit up and look over to the couch, blush rising to your cheeks. Thankfully, Zuko is still asleep, one arm resting across his face while the other dangles off the side of the couch. He looks… 

“Morning!” Katara calls out from the kitchen, thankfully cutting off your train of thought. “I’m making eggs, do you want some?”

The rumble of your stomach is answer enough, and you laugh as you reply, “Definitely!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[hargrove-mayfields]

Add A Link and See It Grow

Today’s the last day of the Harringrove Week of Love! The final prompt I chose was Found Family! Read this here or on ao3 posted by ej_writer !

Word Count: 7,305

Rating: T

“Are you serious right now Nancy?”

It was 7:30 at night when Steve heard his doorbell ring and, upon answering it, was met with a swarm of middle schoolers rushing into his house. He had plans to go out to the quarry with Billy in like, a half hour, he could not afford to be the babysitter.

“I’m sorry, Steve. My mom was supposed to watch the kids but she had to go out so she asked me to babysit, but I already told Joyce and Jon I’d help them plan Will's birthday party and it’s only a few days away now and-“ Nancy talked about a thousand miles a minute as she tried to justify dumping the brats on him.

“Whatever, it’s, fine.” It wasn’t, but it wasn’t worth arguing over either. “Aren’t they old enough to watch themselves at this point?”

Nancy didn’t even respond to that, just gave him a stern look that said ‘you’re watching these kids no matter what, get over it.’ She crossed her arms and squinted at him and, even if it didn’t really matter if he agreed, his resolve broke. “Alright, fine.”

She smiled and thanked him before hurrying back to Jonathan’s still running car. Steve sighed and braced himself before turning around to go back inside. The brats were known for wreaking havoc in a matter of minutes, and he wasn't looking to let them destroy his parents’ house.

In the five minutes he was outside they’d already raided the fridge of all of his pop, added the leaf to his dining table (how did they even know where that thing was?), had game pieces and boards thrown all over the place, and made a stack of their bags in the corner of his living room.

“Wait a second, is this a sleepover?” Steve groaned at all of the overenthusiastic nods he received. “Where am I supposed to put all of you little shits?”

Dustin shrugged. “You have enough rooms in this place to house the whole neighborhood. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Well, since nobody felt the need to run this by me first, I’m already busy. Can you dipshits handle yourselves for like, two hours?”

The look on Mikes face perfectly mirrored the one his sister had given Steve at the door. “Dude, Nancy will kill you if she found out you left us here alone.”

“Not if I kill her first for dumping all of you on me.” The threat had still stuck, she absolutely would kill Steve. There was no way he could get away with leaving them unattended.

He figured he could just call Billy and cancel, but that was really the last thing he wanted to do. He tried to come up with some compromise, but with all the kids pulling up chairs to his dining table with intentions of staying all night, he didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter.

Dialing Billy’s number into the kitchen phone, he walks around the corner into the bathroom, shutting himself in as best he can around the phone's cord in an attempt at having some semblance of privacy from the six sets of prying ears in the next room, but he hears nothing from the other end.

He let it ring a few more times before he gave up, wrapping the cord back up and hanging the phone back in its slot. This wasn’t going to go over well.

Because it wasn’t like he could just be like ‘hey, I have to go do this, be back in a few’ when what he had been planning on doing was going on a date with Billy Hargrove. They were sneaking around behind the kids' backs, so that just wasn’t a luxury they had.

But Billy wouldn’t answer his phone, so he couldn’t explain the situation to him either, and now Steve was backed into a corner, and exponentially screwed.

At first, he was trying to just stay out of the kids’ hair, hover in the corner while they did their thing just to make sure they didn’t get it of hand, but he was feeling too jittery and nervous, so he pulled up one of the thousand extra dining chairs his mother kept around for dinner parties and joined in their stupid game.

For once, they were playing normal people games instead of that role playing thing he couldn't wrap his head around, so he could actually understand what was happening enough to participate.

Not that that meant he ever won, being outsmarted by these kids was his specialty. Round after round they ran circles around him, and he was getting frustrated enough he was considering making them sleep outside.

He was about to throw his cards down and quit for what was probably the tenth time already when he heard the telltale sound of Billy’s Camaro pulling into his driveway.

That was really bad. He’d stood Billy up, and he’d be pissed, he couldn’t let him just barge in here and make a scene in front of the kids. Because not only would that mean they knew Steve was not crushing on some imaginary girl or whatever he’d made up to thwart their suspicions, but that he was with Billy Hargrove of all people. They’d never let it go.

He shot a quick look at Max, who no doubt would’ve been able to recognize the sound of her own brother's car, hoping to somehow communicate to her to keep these other assholes occupied while he dealt with this. He was pretty sure Max already knew about them anyways.

Forfeiting again, he got up from the table and hurried towards the front doors.

Will called after him with a sympathetic, “It’s just a game, Steve!” which thankfully meant they either hadn’t heard or hadn’t recognized the sound of Billy’s car.

Holding up the pack of camels he always kept in his pocket, he turned around to face the kids, backing towards the door still. “Just need a smoke break.”

That seemed to appease them, and they went back to what they were doing. He practically ran the rest of the way to the door, as he opened and closed it before they could see the boy on the stoop.

Billy was standing there probably about to lay on the doorbell, something he always did just to drive Steve crazy, and seemed surprised at the way he came all the way outside and shut the door behind himself. “Listen, I’m on babysitting duty, so I kind of can’t do this right now.”

At the same time Billy’s face fell, Steve felt his heart drop into his stomach. This wasn’t about their rendezvous, turning up at Steve’s house usually meant he needed something, and judging from the way his hands were stuffed deep into his pockets and the way he was worrying his lip between his teeth, it was something important. “Whatever, Harrington. I’ll get out of your hair.“

“That’s not what I meant.” Steve reached out and put his hand on Billy’s arm to get his attention. “I’m sorry. I want you to stay, I just, I needed you to know they were here.” The additional so you didn’t out us and ruin our lives forever went unsaid, but Billy knew the implications of being caught by the kids.

“I need your first-aid kit“ It was hard for him, asking for help, but these days it was something he needed a lot of.

“Okay.”

Without another word he opened the door and led Billy inside, making him kick off his muddy biker boots before following him up the stairs to where he kept the band aid kit in his bathroom. One of the perks of having a big house was that the kids, from where they were in the dining room, couldn’t see the door, and only heard them go up the steps.

This had become routine for them, Billy showing up at his door in need of a little TLC, and Steve desperate to give it to him, but up to this point they’d been able to evade the kids. He didn’t think it would honestly be all that bad if they knew, Billy’s sister was among them and probably wouldn’t let her friends run too wild with the information, but Billy had made him swear on his life he’d never let them, or anyone else for that matter, find out about it.

Of course he understood that. There was a reason this kept happening, these nights when Billy would show up at his door in need of assistance, and that reason, who’s name happened to be Neil Hargrove, would undoubtedly kill the both of them were he ever to catch word that his son was dating Steve Harrington.

Steve had the displeasure of meeting Neil in person only once in late December, when he’d dropped Max off at her house after a Christmas party at the Byers. Being that he was such a responsible and caring father, or at least that’s what he was for the public eye, he just had to meet the boy who was watching his daughter.

Steve’d been beyond unsettled by the unnecessary firmness of his handshake, the distant look behind his so obviously practiced smile, the way Billy, with his arm in a cast for reasons he wouldn’t tell anyone, loomed in the corner as Neil did his interrogation.

When he was satisfied with the answers he’d been given, sure that Steve wasn’t carting the kids around because he was a creep or something, he’d let him go with a slap to the shoulder that was a little too hard to be friendly, and made Billy, maybe as a show of some sort of old fashioned respect, walk him back to his car.

“Did he do that to you?” Maybe it was because his experience with his own father had made it easier to recognize, but Steve was pretty sure he had a good idea of what was going on here.

Billy kept his eyes downcast and his shoulders squared, defensive in a way that was distinctly un-Billy. The broken arm must have been preventing his fighting instincts from taking over, or maybe it was the guilt from already beating the shit out of Steve once. “Maybe.”

That was enough of an answer for him. “Look, if you ever need anything, just like, I don’t know, come find me or something, man.”

Billy’s head snapped up to look at him. Steve could practically see the gears turning in his head as he tried to think of some response, but that had gotten to him. He kept his lips pressed in a flat line, and stared at Steve like he just grew a second head.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, just, my door is always open, or whatever.” It was extremely awkward, Steve offering help to the boy who’d literally just beat the shit out of him and concussed him like a month ago, but he could see through him.

The scar in his eyebrow didn’t come from their fight, nor did the cast on his arm. Seeing the way Neil acted, the saccharine smile he wore as he made subtle threats on him when he literally did nothing but drive his daughter around, he had enough to figure out that those injuries had been from what Billy had faced once he came home that night.

Billy hadn’t said anything, just scoffed and turned around to go back into his house, but a week later he showed up at Steve’s house, having gotten the address off of their sort of mutual friend Tommy, with a broken nose and bled all over his living room carpet, and the rest was history.

Steve walked him into the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet seat, popping open the first-aid kit where it sat on the tiled counter. “Where’re you hurt?”

A nervous habit of his, Billy was chewing on the side of his thumb nail. His gaze flickered between Steve’s face and the framed painting behind him on the wall. “S’my ribs.”

Steve got him to shrug out of the two different jackets he was wearing, his first winter in the Midwest had proved to be far too cold for a Cali-raised boy like Billy, and pull the Henley shirt he had on over his head. The damage hidden underneath was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

Reaching out, Steve gingerly touched the deep purple bruises littering the other boy's chest and ribs. He felt breathless, this was by far the worst he’d ever seen it. “Jesus, Bills.”

Billy wasn’t very good at accepting sympathy from others. It made him feel all squeamish to be fussed over, and Steve was the king of fussing over him. He muttered, “Think there’s a cut towards the back.”

Steve wrapped his fingers around Billy’s forearm and gently pushed his arm up over his head to inspect the damage, and sure enough, there was a gash about 6 inches long on his left side. “What the hell did he do to you?”

Billy sniffs, looks away and says, like it’s nothing, “Steel-toes break the skin easier.”

Every time they did this, Steve’s heart broke into a million little pieces. The nonchalance of it all was the worst part, the way it was so normal for Billy to have his father kick him until his ribs were bruised black and bleeding, it made him so sad to see his Billy that way.

He let Billy put his arm down and crossed his own arms over his chest, “You’re gonna need stitches.”

“You know how to sew.” Another shot right in his heart, Steve didn’t know how much of this he could handle.

“Barely. And this is completely different.” Steve stepped forward and put his hand on the side of Billy’s face, keeping him from looking away again to stare at that stupid painting on the wall. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it, Stevie. Either you do it or I will.” If Billy gave an ultimatum, he meant it.

He definitely didn’t know how to sew, it was a skill considered too feminine to be taught to a son despite its usefulness, so he never learned how, but if Steve didn’t agree he would’ve very much done it and hurt himself a thousand times more in the process just to prove a point

So Steve reluctantly did it, made Billy hold his arm over his head and turn to face the other wall so he could see it better. Not that he was an overly emotional person, or maybe he just wouldn’t admit he was, but the sight before him put tears in his eyes.

Billy caught that, and despite the swell of nervousness in his own chest as he saw Steve threading a needle from out of the kit, he offered comfort to his boyfriend.

“Only a few more months before I’m outta there, then we won’t have to worry about this shit any more.” Billy would turn 18 in June, just under three months from now, but when he showed up at Steve’s door bloodied and bruised every other day, that long stretch of time offered no comfort.

It wouldn’t be as easy as Billy seemed to think it was to leave. He wouldn’t have any money, the Camaro wasn’t in his name, so he wouldn’t have any way to get around, and he didn’t even know where he would stay yet. That was all hypothetical for if he’d even be able to leave too.

With an abusive father constantly looming over his shoulder and keeping tabs on him, he’d know he was going to leave and try to stop it at all costs. It was only a matter of time before he started trying to manipulate Billy into staying.

It clearly didn’t have the desired effect on Steve. Billy’d even offered his assurances with a smile, but his boyfriends face stayed grim as he wiped at the cut with an alcohol pad so he could start to try to stitch it shut.

They stayed silent after that, while Steve tried to steady his shaking hands for long enough to get the needle in and out of Billy’s skin without hurting him too bad. The only break in the silence was the occasional gasp from Billy when Steve made another hole in his skin, or the noise drifting up from when the kids started yelling downstairs.

After a few more times in and out he was able to tie it off, the sutures were sort of crude, but were doing their job, and he made Billy move his arm all around to make sure they wouldn’t tear right through his skin. Once he was appeased, he made him put a new shirt on, the other one stained with his blood would have to be washed.

Billy stood up and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist. “I’m gonna be okay baby.”

Steve reached his arms around the back of Billy’s neck and pressed their foreheads together. “I know but-“

Cutting him off with a quick kiss, Billy interjected. “It doesn’t matter about him as long as I have you.” Another peck to his lips. “Love you.”

It hardly did anything to cheer Steve up or comfort him, but there wasn’t anything that could when every night, he sent his boyfriend back into the arms of a monster. He sighed and ran his fingers through the long hair at the back of Billy’s neck. “I love you too.”

Neither of them knew how much time had passed when Billy pulled away to grab his jacket off of the counter. Shrugging the layers back onto his shoulders, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket again. “I should go. The nerd herd’s gonna wonder where we went.”

“I want you to stay.” Steve kissed him one more time. “Not gonna let you go back to him yet.”

Billy looked like he wanted to protest, but Steve must’ve been looking as sad as he felt, because Billy sighed and gave in. “Fine. But your kids aren’t going to be too happy about that.”

“They’ll be fine.” Billy always seemed to underestimate just how much the kids liked him.

It was true that they hadn’t been his biggest fans at first, but when they first started doing this, Steve made him swear he’d apologize to them, and he did.

They were smart kids, they understood how the situation had looked when he got pissed, all of them hiding from him in a strangers house, and they understood the implications too of him begging Max to leave with him and his arm being broken literally the next day when she hadn’t.

It wasn’t immediate forgiveness, they were pretty wary around him until they felt he’d done enough to prove that he meant it when he apologized, but they’d all more or less accepted it by now.

Because he hadn’t stopped after just saying sorry. The words themselves never meant much to him at all, what with the situation he grew up in, so he tried to show them he was sorry.

Which was how he had become the secondary chauffeur after Steve, taking more than just Max home after trips to the movies or the arcade, and consequently how he had started helping them sneak around.

More than a few times he’d helped them smuggle Eleven out of her dad's cabin, because he understood feeling trapped, before he had his own car Neil had been able to keep him under 24/7 surveillance. He always covered for Lucas too, driving him home first before anyone else, and when Neil wanted to know who Max had been with, he’d lie and say it was just Dustin or El. After what happened it felt like the least he could do, but Steve was right, by now, they were pretty much over it.

Either way, he didn’t exactly want to have to explain away why he and Steve had disappeared upstairs for the last hour, hour and half. They might forgive him for his stupid outburst, but he couldn’t be sure where they drew the line.

Steve smiled at him and wrapped his fingers around Billy’s wrist, pulling him out of the bathroom and back through the hallway to the stairs. “Just follow my lead.”

Any semblance of a plan was lost when they made it back to the kitchen, Billy leaning in the doorway while Steve announced his presence, and they saw Eleven washing blood off of her hands in the sink.

There were some things Billy knew he’d never understand about these kids, Steve had made him promise he wouldn’t ask questions even though that was what had got them into a fight in the first place, so, despite his confusion, he didn’t even try to ask.

Not even when Steve put his hands on his hips and reprimanded her. “Oh, you were not spying on me.”

She smiled coyly. “I was.”

Billy felt the blood drain out of his face, felt his heartbeat skyrocket as he and Steve exchanged a look of fear. Steve stuttered and started trying to explain. “Listen you guys-“

Dustin cut him off, always overly eager to complain. “She won’t tell us anything.”

Nodding, Mike agreed. “She says it’s an ‘invasion of your privacy’.” He used air quotes around the last part as if spying on people in their own homes wasn’t exactly that.

The fear on Steve's face shifted into anger as he pointed his finger in Mike's face. “That’s because it is. I told you little shits a thousand times: no spying.”

Lucas interjected, agreeing with his friends. “What’s it matter if she won’t tell us anyways?”

Max fixed him with a deadly look and scoffed. “It matters because she didn’t want to and you made her. Why should she tell you what she saw?” Typically, Max would be on Lucas’ side, but they must’ve been fighting again.

Billy, watching the scene unfold while leaning on the door frame, clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth and announced. “Seems like I walked into something.” He turned to walk away and called over his shoulder. “Catch ya ‘round, Harrington.”

Before he could get away, Steve grabbed him by the back of his jacket and tugged, stopping him dead in his tracks. “No way. You’re not leaving me to deal with this by myself.”

“Your children aren’t my responsibility.” He reminded him, but he had no actual intentions of actually leaving and they both knew that.

The kids hadn’t understood at first why Steve got along with Billy after he’d been the one to be beat up, so, to put it in a way that made sense to the brats, they pretended to argue so it seemed like they were only begrudgingly hanging out, and so far, they hadn’t seen through it.

Steve had a retort ready, but Dustin beat him to it. The kids were constantly rubbing it in Billy’s face that they’d turned him into a babysitter too. “Yeah, we kind of are.”

Lucas, obviously only trying to get some sort of points towards Max’s forgiveness, agreed. “Especially since one of us is your totally awesome sister.” Max just rolled her eyes at his attempt.

Realizing he was still holding onto Billy’s jacket, Steve pulled him back into the room and let go. “You’re staying.” He turned to Will and asked him like nothing had happened, “So what are we playing?”

Unsurprisingly, the kids had developed tiny attention spans. They'd gotten quite the taste for crazy adventures, so unlike normal teenagers, activities like watching movies and playing truth or dare all night wouldn’t really do it for them.

Since Steve had left, they’d apparently played through two different games and had been about to start a third before they decided to spy.

Mike tells them, “We’ve narrowed it down to Uno and Monopoly.”

“Mike, Will, and Max vote Monopoly. Me, Lucas, and El vote Uno.” Dustin further explained, “We need a tie breaker.”

“I’m not any good at Monopoly. Too much counting.” Steve nudged Billy with his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“Last time I played Monopoly I broke someone's nose, and I’m colorblind. Don’t think my vote counts.” Neither of those facts are particularly untrue, but the only reason Billy brings them up is because he’s still trying to deny that he’s their babysitter.

Staying for Steve, whatever, that was fine, but playing board games with the little shits, that would be giving in, admitting that he wasn’t above hanging out with middle schoolers on a Friday night.

But he doesn’t get out of it, because with the excitement of all of the kids combined, Will pipes up. “Don’t worry, I am too! My mom put shapes on all the cards so I can tell the difference.”

He hurries and fishes out the playing deck, bringing it straight to Billy to look through. “See! Reds are squares, greens are circles, yellows are stars, and blues are triangles!”

Steve smirks at Billy, at the defeated look on his face. “Looks like you’re not getting out of this one, Hargrove.”

Tumblr decided this was too long, go ahead and finish reading on ao3! Over there I’m ej_writer !

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

4. Making friends 101

Genre: Yoongi x OC

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.4k

“Have you decided what you’re going to wear to this thing?”

I nearly jump out of my skin as a wild Sebastian wanders into my room. I’m still a little on edge from the stalker a few days ago.

“What thing?” I ask, folding my clothes as I repack my suitcase. We’ll be heading out tomorrow morning bright and early for Hong Kong. It’s quite the trip from Paris, and I wish that we could have scheduled things out a bit better. We’ll be in Asia for the next three weeks before having to turn around and come back to Europe.

From there, we’ll finally head back to the states for the final stages of promotions and the premier. Nobody was too happy about the revised schedule, but neither did they dare pass up extra promotions in Asia thanks to a certain K-pop group.

“You know...this festival we’re invited to.” Sebastian makes himself comfortable on my bed, smirking at my agonizingly organized suitcase. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

As if I could forget about that. “It’s my most reliable source of anxiety, what would I do without it?” I chuckle sarcastically as I struggle with a thick sweater that refuses to lay flat.

The film festival has been on my mind quite a lot since I first found out that we were invited to it. While now I know what really happened; that it was Kim Seokjin that invited me and not Min Yoongi, I still can’t help but feel a pang of fear every time it’s brought up.

Really, the topic of what I’m going to wear to what may be the most awkward meeting of my entire life is at the bottom of my long list of worries.

“I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to wear.”

I raise my eyebrows at my friend. This is the most he’s hung around me for the past week, and I welcome the promise of banter. Heaven knows I could let off a little steam.

“Oh? Do tell.”

Sebastian stretches like a cat on the bed and I giggle at the sight. His eyes light up when he looks at me, imagining what else he could do to make me laugh.

“Here’s what I’m thinking. People over there are...stylish. Like, they wear edgy cool clothes all the time. So I’ve got to represent, you know? I’m thinking of raiding Saint Laurent or something in preparation for this festival. It sounds like it’s a pretty big deal over there. There’s bound to be lot’s of people.”

It’s not very often Sebastian gets super into fashion, but when he does, it’s a guaranteed laugh for everyone involved.

“Saint Laurent? That’s your whole paycheck, buddy.”

“Hey! Don’t ‘buddy’ me, you little weirdo. If you’re nice to me maybe I’ll take you along.”

I roll my eyes at his offer, however tempting. “No thanks. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, you know? Everyone is already expecting me to be tripping over my feet the second he walks in-”

“He? C’mon, Car. He’s not Voldemort, you can use his name.”

I flush when I realize that I’ve been purposefully avoiding speaking about Yoongi directly.

“Whatever. What I’m saying is that it’s already awkward enough. I don’t want to show up looking like a girl getting ready to go to her first prom.”

“Nonsense,” Sebastian hands me another sweater when I reach for it. “More like your second prom.”

He’s met with a sweater to the face.

“Shut up, you’re not even helping me with anything. Why are you in here?”

Sebastian makes a show of folding my sweater. “I’m in here to make sure you’re getting ready to leave tomorrow and that you aren’t passed out on the floor from anxiety or something.”

I wince from the unspoken words. Like before.

“Yeah, I’m ready. And I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look all that convinced, but lets it slide for now. “You know, things are only going to get more intense in Hong Kong. The closer we get to Seoul, the more intense things will become.”

“Not. Helping.”

🌙

I wish Sebastian didn’t have to be right all the time.

The second we get off the plane, it’s a madhouse. Like a literal madhouse. People are shoving, cameras flashing, and the questions are being yelled right into my ears. They’re mainly in English, a few in Cantonese, but there are quite a few in Korean as well. It’s easy enough for me to drown out the latter language, but the ones in English do their job well enough.

“Cara! Cara! Have you been in contact with Suga?”

“Are the two of you attending the festival together? What are you going to wear?”

“Just give us a smile, Cara! Cara!”

We don’t have a lot of security, only about three guys. Soon enough they’re surrounding me, and I am being moved along within a sea of black clothing and mumbled orders. I’m just able to crane my neck to see Sebastian pushing through the mess of reporters, tugging Rhea along behind him. She catches my eye contact and waves me forward.

I fight against the pang of guilt that hits me as I realize that this is all because of me. Never did I think that things would get this bad. I never thought that I would have to be surrounded on all sides by bodyguards.  

By the time we’re shoved into the car waiting for us outside, I’m out of breath and so is everyone else.

Sebastian and Rhea share my car with me. I’m not sure whether I should try to sleep or apologize or resign-

“Cara?” Rhea’s hand grips mine as she gives me a reassuring squeeze. “You ok?”

I give her a shaky nod. “Y-yeah. I think I’m fine. We’re just going to the hotel, right?” I give out a sigh of relief when she confirms. Good. I could use a bed right around now. Especially because we spent a good chunk of our flight going over the promo schedule for Hong Kong and it looks like it’ll be pretty much nonstop starting tomorrow morning.

I hate to ask, but I also know that if there’s another stalker waiting for me in my rooms I won’t be able to sleep at all, no matter how tired I feel.

“Could we...check my room-”

“Already on it,” Rhea says with a sympathetic smile. “I sent a couple of people ahead of us to check all the rooms out. They should be done before we even get there, no worries.”

I relax a little, thanking her for her foresight. We fall into a groggy silence after a bit, the car ride from the airport to the hotel being about thirty minutes. Hong Kong is small, but it’s packed. With it comes traffic and bright shiny buildings that I can’t help but gawk at.

For living in the big city of Seoul for two years, I can’t help but be amazed at big cities like Hong Kong. They never get old.

I’m so distracted by those shiny buildings that I almost don’t notice my phone lighting up with an incoming call. Its vibrations finally pull me from my daze, and I smile as Bong-cha’s photo smiles up at me.

I took the photo for her on her first day of school after she changed programs. She’s grinning like an idiot in front of an intimidating building, holding up a big thumbs-up. Bong-cha has always hated the photo. She says she looks like a kindergartener on her first day of class. I agree, which is why it’s my contact photo for her. Purely just to piss her off.

“Wow the love of my life is calling me again? You must really miss me.”

Bong-cha’s laugh is either a beat too late or a touch too loud, but I notice it immediately. The knots in my stomach that were just beginning to untie themselves suddenly tighten up again.

“Yah, have you landed?”

Oh, right. I was supposed to text her when I landed. “Umm...yes. A little while ago. We’re in the car now.”

“I knew you’d forget to text me. You always do.”

“Hey, that’s not true! And you can’t blame me this time. The airport was a mess. I hardly had enough time to whip my phone out and text you when people were trying to claw their way down my throat.”

Again, she’s a second late in responding. “It was really bad, then? I was worried about that. You have bodyguards, right?”

“Yeah, we do. Just three, though. I felt bad, I had to ditch the rest of the crew to walk between the bodyguards. Everyone else had to fend for themselves.”

Now it’s silent for more than a few seconds, but something that sounds like hushed voices breaks it.

“That sounds hor-”

“Bong-cha, what’s going on over there? Are you at work or something?”

It’s as though I break some sort of spell, because suddenly a laugh tears through the silence, but I know it doesn’t belong to my friend.

Last I checked she doesn’t sound like a windshield-wiper when she laughs.

There’s something about it that has me furrowing my brows in a mixture of confusion and anger. Rhea and Sebastian share a look, not entirely sure what’s going on in my conversation but understanding my expression.

Bong-cha is in the middle of trying to explain. “Well, yeah, I’m at work. We got to talking about you traveling today and the boys wanted me to call you and check in on you and-”

“Am I on speaker phone?” Again, silence. I’m getting real sick of the silence. “Kim Bong-cha, I swear if you put me on speaker without even telling me, I’m going to catch the next flight to Seoul and-”

“Aaand there’s the Cara I know and love!” Bong-cha interrupts, confirming my fears. I’m definitely on speakerphone. “Please, we both know you’re too busy with work to come over here, even if it’s for a good cause like the one I’m sure you were about to explain. Also, the boys say hi.”

The boys. She says it so casually, as if we all went to high school together and are just checking in with each other to see how life has been.

“The boys? Like, all the boys? Also, you only called me because they told you to, and not because you were genuinely concerned for me? I see how it is, Bong-cha. That’s low.”

Before my friend can defend herself I hear a voice that sounds too much like a certain Kim Seokjin.

“You’re right, she is funny!”

I snort, fighting the blush on my cheeks. Am I really on the phone with BTS? What world is this?

“Is that Seokjin?” Even just saying his name makes me feel like a giddy middle schooler.

“Yeah,” Bong-cha responds.

“Well, you’d better watch out Seokjin. Once I’m done beating Bong-cha I’m coming after you.”

“M-me?” Jin has the sensibility to sound a little scared. “Why me?”

A dry laugh sounds, but I can’t tell who it belongs to. Few others have such a distinguishable laugh as Kim Seokjin.

“Bong-cha told me that it was you who started this whole mess with the film festival! Do you know how much anxiety you’ve caused me?!” My anger from this entire mess infuses me with more boldness than I could have mustered in this situation otherwise.

There’s some scuffling noises on the other side of the line, followed by a few grunts. Jin shouts in disdain.

“Yah! I was just trying to help! You’ll be thanking me!” A door slams, blocking out any further shouts from the man. I can’t hide the grin that splits across my face as I imagine what must be going on over there.

“Ok, he’s gone. I’ve banned them all from this room for the duration of this call.” Bong-cha reassures me. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I was calling to ask you something, actually. Don’t feel any pressure, but I think it may help relieve some stress on both sides-”

“What are you getting at, Bong-cha?”

She takes a deep breath. “Is it alright if I give Yoongi your number?”

My jaw falls open. I’m about to freak out when I realize that there’s a small chance that somebody may still overhear me on the phone. Barely composing myself, I respond to my friend, ignoring the obvious shake in my voice.

“Does he actually want it? Because it sounds like all of this has been thrown on him as much as it has me.”

“Er...yeah. He wants it. He was trying to ask about you today, but in that way where he doesn’t want it to look like he’s asking about you, you know? So I finally told him that he should just get your number so he quits bothering me about it. It’s been like this all week. So I figured I’d just give it to him, if you’re alright with it?”

In most situations, I know what to say. I’m usually pretty good at coming up with something to say in order to keep the conversation flowing. Maybe when Graham Norton dropped the bomb on me about Yoongi, I wasn’t the best at it but I at least inserted little comments here or there.

Now, I’m not really sure what to say anymore. It seems that the second I begin to relax and feel like I’m finally getting a handle on this, something happens.

It’s that same fear that I’ve had since I was a child kicking back in. It seems silly, in a time like this. I’m a completely different person since then, in a completely different environment. And yet, that fear that I’ve carried with me all my life comes bubbling back up to the surface.

“Bong-cha…” I struggle to keep a neutral expression as I’m aware that I’m not alone in the car. “I’m not very good at making friends.”

Any other person would be quick to jump in and reassure me. Any other friend would race to recall experiences that would prove my claim wrong.

I guess that’s why Bong-cha is my best friend. She doesn’t do any of those things, instead quietly listening and thinking before she responds.

“You know, Cara…” she begins in a sincere tone. “Maybe that’s not the point. Maybe you’re not meant to be amazing at making friends. But you’re really good at letting people be friends with you. Which, honestly, is a talent. A weird, obscure one, but a talent nonetheless.”

What’s meant to be a laugh comes out more as a sigh of relief. Bong-cha always knows what to say.

“I’m going to do some research on that talent, because I’ve never heard of it before.”

“So...are you alright if I give it to him? I think he wants to just apologize to you more than anything. I swear he won’t be weird with it.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, mulling it over. Honestly, at this point, what do I have to lose?

“Yeah, go ahead.”

🌙

I’ve barely lugged my suitcase inside and collapsed on the bed when the first text comes through. I immediately jump up, senses on high alert. It would be a lie if I said that I haven’t been on edge just waiting for my phone to ding ever since I got off the phone with Bong-cha. Bracing myself for the bite of disappointment when it’s the “Young Rising” group chat, my heart nearly stops when I see it’s an unknown number. 

UNK: Is this Cara? 

UNK: This is Bong-cha’s friend, she gave me your number.

“Ah, he’s smart,” I note as I realize he didn’t give me his name just in case he mixed up the numbers. I quickly save his number in my phone, the action making me feel a little strange. 

ME: Yes, this is Cara. 

I overthink the four-letter message for way too long before I press send. I sound cold, but I don’t know what else to say. It doesn’t take long for three dots to appear on the screen. 

“Oh, no. He’s typing. What do I do if he’s typing?”

 I’m ashamed to admit that I consider chucking my phone out the window for more than thirty seconds. Only the ping of my phone stops me in my train of thought. 

MYG: Have you made it safely to your hotel?

I blink at his message. The fact that I really don’t know this man at all is hitting me like a ton of bricks. He seems kind though...from the twenty or so words he’s typed. That’s all you need to judge someone’s character, right?

ME: Just made it, actually. 

Pausing, I quickly type out a message before he can respond.

 ME: No need to worry

Well, if this isn’t the most dry conversation the earth has ever witnessed. I cringe when I see the three dots pop up again. He’s probably thinking the same thing and is looking for a quick way to end this entire conversation. 

MYG: Good, although I think I may need to worry. It sounds like the airport was out of hand today. 

ME: ...were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Bong-cha?

MYG: Speaker phone doesn’t count as eavesdropping.

ME: It does if the person doesn’t know she’s on speaker!

I have to wait nearly five minutes before he responds again, and the tell-tale ping of my phone has me rushing over to where I left my phone on my nightstand, leaving my toothbrush on the bathroom counter.

MYG: I’ve thought about it, and I think I need to apologize for eavesdropping on your conversation with Bong-cha earlier today.

 ME: That was easy.

MYG: I think I’ve made things difficult enough for you, don’t you think?

Huffing out a laugh, I nod in agreement. 

ME: You have.

When more than ten minutes pass without a reply, I convince myself to take a shower. Then I persuade myself to stand in the shower for more than three minutes, even though I’m itching to see if he’s replied yet.

Fifteen minutes later there’s still no reply. Cozying under the covers I stare at my phone, answering a text from Bong-cha asking if Yoongi has texted me yet.

Even though I’m a fan of the band, I can’t say that I’ve ever really gone out of my way to learn a lot about them. Beyond the music, I know very little.

At least, that’s the excuse I give myself as I watch video after video about Suga: the biggest baddest soft boy in the universe.

It’s nearly two in the morning before I force myself to put my phone down and get some rest. The thought that maybe my text came off more harsh than I intended it to has crossed my mind several times, but it’s too late now to try to take it back.

It’s nearly four in the morning when the sound of my phone vibrating drags me out of my slumber. Groggily, I reach for my phone, hissing as I hit my elbow on the nightstand.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groan, squinting at my phone. “I swear, if it’s Bong-cha at this time of night…”

MYG: I’m sorry.

MYG: I’m trying to fix this, thank you for being so kind and patient. Things will get better.

MYG: You don’t have to come to the festival, just so you know. Let me know, and we can cover for you somehow. Make up an excuse. Don’t feel like you have to come, or even speak to me. I’ll understand.

MYG: Sorry for texting so late! I just realized what time it is. Go to sleep. Sorry if I woke you up.

MYG: Sorry.

I’m caught between feeling choked up about the apology and trying to even wrap my mind around the fact that Min Yoongi is up in the middle of the night typing out an apology text to some girl he’s never met.

“Who even are you? Who does this?”

Hardly trusting myself to write back a proper reply, I squint into the screen as I hesitantly type letter by letter. Writing in Korean at four in the morning is not one of my strong points.

ME: I think I’m more exhausted by the amount of times you just said sorry than with what time it is. Go to sleep, Yoongi.

It takes all of thirty seconds for a reply to come through.

MYG: 😅 I guess good morning, Cara.

ME: Good morning, Yoongi.

I fall asleep watching the three dots on my phone appear and disappear as Min Yoongi ponders what next to say in this unlikely forming friendship.

Previous - Next

taglist is open!

taglist: @taylorroe3​ @eusticenatalie​ @agustneeds​ @prdshobi

[clansayeed]

coming next year on choices: stories you play*... *except not really because this is a joke post; satire; making fun of the dumb stuff they keep doing

*~The Royal Education~*

MC is the crown princess of Cordonia; imported from TRR and TRH but the plot doesn’t really make sense if her father isn’t Liam but oh well Maxwell will make a quip so it’s all okay 

who because of some wacky wild law or ancient tradition has to attend her mother's New York High School in order to fully ascend to the crown. she’s beautiful and full figured despite being a freshman and can wear whatever she wants -- and what she wants to wear is a mini skirt and a cut off sweater that shows off her royal shoulders -- but the school has to deal with it because APPLES or something

but the girl everybody knows and loathes, who has been the most popular since day care and is the head cheerleader, and whose daddy invented toaster strudel, doesn't want the competition for Homecoming queen!! you probably didn’t even want to sign up!! but she dumped her oddly healthy and bougie high school tray lunch on your head in front of Boy 1 and Boy 2 so ITS ON. don’t worry, your friends will help, since they each have an oddly unique and necessary hobby that will help you win votes

"You're already getting a real crown! This one is mine!" Bad GirlTM whines the night of the dance, then she keeps you from the dance by stabbing MCs hand with the heel of her shoe because Bastien wasn't paying attention and because she’ll do anything to win

but don’t worry, you can flirt with her through the whole book and if you buy a premium scene at the end to confront her in the locker room shower, your eyes can roam up and down her soft body and curves and you can feel your cheeks flush as you learn she has a really sad home life as an only child despite being white and rich so everything is totally forgiven with a hug even though you’re both technically naked??

live like a real high schooler!

join the cheerleading squad! even though your friends are in other activities. you’re a princess. you have to join the cheerleading squad. buy your uniform for only 25 diamonds, and impress that special someone with a hair scrunchie in theme for only 18 diamonds

hang out at the mall like a real teen! just ignore the mobs of press, Bastien probably just went for a coffee he’ll be back soon

give your new inner-city school a Cordonian apple tree. they’ll find somewhere to put it its fine

customize your locker! buy the locker right next to your crush! or just keep the one next to the janitor’s closet that’s fine too. throughout the book you’ll be able to make your locker look glam -- with matching apple binders and pens, a locker door mirror, some fun corgi stickers, and don’t forget your signed copy of The Royal Romance by Maxwell Beaumont

and don’t forget to grab a quick java boost with your LI on your way to school. you won’t be late, your sleek vespa will get you there just in time for the bell. you might even get to feel his desire against your back. wait what? you chose the woman? oh shit. uh... just pretend her desire is her bouncing beautiful bosom that’s still on your back

featuring...

- the violent red-head best friend, an obvious Olivia parallel but she’s from New York so it’s not the same thing and totally okay. did I mention she loves winter and has always wanted to vacation in Lythikos?

- the cute comedic relief guy in all his gay-coded glory, but if you don’t have an official LI at the dance you can dance with him and its all fine

- the nerdy WOC, who can’t be asian because here at pixelberry we defy stereotypes like that, and who has never so much as seen a weed because doing calculus and planning for college is much more important. this is why she’s never around for you to romance, even though she’s the only woman LI. she’s always studying for college

- Barty, who didn’t want to go there in the first place but somehow got forced along, and is literally just an aged-down Bertrand sprite

- Boy 1, a wealthy popular kid who was dating the rival homecoming queen until this year when he dumped her to “find himself” in his music and ended up finding you instead. he doesn’t want to date you because “you come with drama” but what he really means is “you make him horny”

- and Boy 2, who just moved to NY too so you have a lot in common being outsiders and all, even though he grew up on a farm in Texas and compares everything to pig-wrestling and only ever wears flannel until the dance when he can suddenly afford Gucci suits... even though there was an 8 episode story arc about his family’s financial struggles

- with a special mention to your gender-customized homeroom teacher, who is always driving you home and tutoring you in your worst subject. and there’s a forum rumor that in book 3 when you turn 18 and graduate you can confess your love to them and screw on your old school desk

Will you... take it to the next level at the dance? Because for just 30 diamonds (well... those and the 20 diamond scenes you’ve been pretty much guilted into buying because if you don’t your LI fails high school or something) you guys can screw under the gym bleachers... in the middle of the dance!!

Find love. Find friends. Find your English homework before one of your fifty (50) CORGIS eats it and the teacher won’t believe you! 

*(sorry, even if you get all the timed choices right it happens anyway)

But most of all... find yourself... in every apple-themed wardrobe piece you own.

coming to your app next year! and by that we mean january, because we need to milk this for all its worth

and be sure to check back soon for more book updates, like Hero 2 for VIP, the Home for the Holidays Halloween special, and our super secret mystery book that we still haven’t released yet!! yay!!

[bunnis-babes]

#38 for the end of the year ask thing, please! Also, would you be cool with writing boyfriend headcanons for Daichi and Tendou? If not, that’s totally fine lmao. Thank you in advance:) have a great day, I love your work!

Daichi and Tendou General Relationship Headcanons

So I’m still working hard on those raffle winners things, but I need to take a break for a bit because I’m a little burnt out right now. I’ve been not great like emotionally and I’m not about to bother anyone with that so I gotta power through! Anyway, thank you for requesting and I’m glad you like my stuff, I hope this was worth the wait lovie! ❤️

Daichi

🦵🏻This fucking M A N, okay he is going to treat you so damn right.

🦵🏻He’s a very respectful person first and foremost, so he always takes into account how you feel about things before he does anything.

🦵🏻Your comfort and happiness is his top priority, and he will do anything to maintain a smile on your face.

🦵🏻However, he himself kind of sucks at communicating and properly displaying his emotions to you. He’s new to this whole relationship thing, and he might need a bit of hand holding.

🦵🏻Speaking offffff, he’s not like big into PDA. He isn’t opposed to it, but he definitely isn’t going to initiate it very often.

🦵🏻The most HE will do is hold your hand or give you forehead smooches, but he’ll happily go along with anything you initiate as well.

🦵🏻Behind closed doors he’s a huge teddy bear, he loves to hold you and be held by you as much as humanly possible.

🦵🏻He’s more of the type to show his affections through actions like getting your favorite food for you for lunch on some days, or lending you his jacket occasionally. Little things to show he cares.

🦵🏻He definitely is one of those guys who either has to have eyes on you or be touching you in some capacity out in public. It makes him feel secure to know he can see that you’re safe.

🦵🏻He’s not a super jealous guy either, just extremely protective. Like you can hang out with any person you want, but the second they make advances on you/make you uncomfortable you know he’s going to be right there to step in if you need him.

🦵🏻You are not spared from his dadding either, actually, he tends to lecture you a lot more on things because he’s so concerned about you all the time.

🦵🏻He just wants you to be happy okay…

🦵🏻He also can tend to overwork himself, so he isn’t really one to talk all that much. Because of this, the two of you have designated ‘couple rest days’ where both of you just lie around and be useless all day.

🦵🏻His hands are very calloused and yet they are very sensitive!!! He likes it a lot when you give him little smooches on his hands!!! It makes him a very happy Daichi!!!

🦵🏻Dates with him a very simple, as he is a simple broke high schooler, let him be.

🦵🏻Most of them consist of the two of you grabbing something to eat at a cafe or shopping for something together.

🦵🏻Also, idc, y’all have cooking dates where you teach each other how to make things and 9/10 both of you end up covered in flour.

🦵🏻Like I said, he doesn’t have a whole lot of money, but he does like to buy you something nice every once in a while. Maybe a new bracelet or a cute thing that reminded him of you.

🦵🏻You’ve got a lot of assorted gifts scattered across your shelves that he’s given you bc he’s precious and can’t help but buy everything he thinks you’ll like.

🦵🏻He’s not super creative with nicknames, preferring to stick with babe or baby or a variation of you name.

🦵🏻All around he’s a big sweetie who wants to give you the world.

Tendou

👹This RAT right here is the simultaneously the worst and the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

👹First and foremost he is a tease, and he is relentless about it.

👹He thinks you’re just too cute when you’re flustered, he just can’t resist teasing you.

👹Though he’s the only one who can tease you the way he does, like sure other friends can poke fun at you, but he’s the only one who can tease you.

👹Despite his relentlessness on teasing, he’s super in tune to your emotions and knows when to back down and stop before it actually hurts you.

👹Still he’s not great at communicating his own emotions, but he puts in a huge effort in your relationship to be more open because he really cares even if he’s a little shit.

👹He’s your little shit.

👹You guessed it, guess monster here is a huge fan of PDA of any and all kinds — more specifically the kinds that annoy and inconvenience other people.

👹Like he will make out with you in the middle of shiratorizawa’s hallways and then smirk when he gets reprimanded by someone — probably semi or a teacher.

👹Gives you his jersey before games and always give you looks during the game and is just all around obvious about you being with him.

👹Please do that stereotypical launching yourself into his arms after he wins, he’ll give you so much shit but he totally openly loves it too.

👹SO uh, he’s a pretty possessive guy, which stems from his insecurities about his looks and personality being a bit too wild for you.

👹He knows you could do so much better, and his swears on his life he is not going to loose this chance he was given by whatever god is out there.

👹So most of the time when you’re around him he’s got a hand on you or is all over you, and even when he isn’t even near you he’s got something to show exactly who you’re dating.

👹His jacket, a hoodie or shirt, something a little more permanent on your neck maybe??? Who knows, so long as it gets the job done.

👹Luckily for him most people are pretty put off by him and don’t even attempt to flirt with you.

👹You know how his fingies are all bandaged and stuff, he likes it when you wrap them up and give his finger tips kisses before games. It makes his feel invincible.

👹Dates are a bit more extravagant with him, as he has more money to spend on you and having fun.

👹His favorites are arcades where the two of you mess around and try to beat the high scores on any of the games, or amusement parks where he sees you let loose and have fun.

👹Also, sidetone, he’s got a weird affinity for winning those rigged carnival games. You always go home with at least two giant stuffed animals he won for you.

👹He doesn’t actually get you gifts often, with most of the ones he does get you being candy or manga he want’s you to/you want to read.

👹His nicknames for you are just about anything he can think of, but his personal favorites are: angel, princess, sweet eternal goddess of his heart.

👹The last one is said mostly in jest… mostly.

👹Overall he’s still a big goofball, but now he just kind of loves you a lot. So yeah.

A/N: It is 3am at time of my finishing this. I’m in my feels, I want to get in contact with an old friend but I don’t want to bother her. Also I really love Tendou so fucking much, and I just am all around loosing my damn mind. Hope y’all don’t mind! Also, after doing a once over of this, why was I so infatuated with giving hands kissed?

[charlietheepicwriter7]

A Pinch of Lila Redemption

Because as evil as she acts in canon and despite nearly everyone hating her behavior, she’s... she’s still a middle schooler, guys. She’s not pure evil. An asshole, yeah, but literally every middle schooler is an asshole. So, here’s a moment of Lila redemption. 

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

Lila, during her self imposed exile after Ladybug humiliated her in front of Adrien and got her akumatized, has a lot of thinking to do. Some about Ladybug, because wow, did she ever want to punch the superhero. Lila’s lied about a lot of things, but never got shit thrown back at her once/if they found out. And that was the problem. She didn’t like being humiliated like that. 

But she couldn’t just stop lying! At least, not at this school. She’d already told her new class all about her celebrity connections, her wild adventures, her friendship with Ladybug. If she told the truth now, she’d be humiliated again, and that was to be avoided at all costs. 

So, she couldn’t stop lying. But she could... tone it down. It would be hard, considering she’d positioned herself as the class meal ticket to meeting their favorite stars and they wouldn’t stop mentioning them. Plus, she wanted the attention, sue her. Being the center of everything was the best. 

But the real problem... was Hawkmoth. How dare he manipulate her like that!? She might not particularly like the super duo, but he had real nerve to try and control her. She was Lila Rossi and no one used her like a puppet!

Come Hero’s Day, while Lila was hanging out in her room, a purple akuma appeared and she didn’t run away. No, she stepped up and grabbed it. 

“Don’t worry, Hawkmoth, I’ll do what you want. We both want the same things after all: that little pest squashed.” 

So she becomes Volpina again and this time she keeps her memories, proving her theory true. If you work with Hawkmoth, you keep your memories of what happened when you’re akumatized. 

She’ll work with Hawkmoth. She’ll gain his trust, follow his orders, do whatever it takes to get close to him. And when the time is right, she’ll show his identity to the world.

[thrushpot]

whipped

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“can you do something with billy where like she has to babysit the party but it’s also date night so she drags billy with her and they all pile up on the couch to watch a movie either scary or romantic and everyone is shocked how gentle and caring billy is because they’re used to see him in a scary way thank youuu” requested by @allabouthargrove​

word count: 3,554

warning(s): swearing

a/n: I loved this idea! thank you for letting me write it, and I will sorta admit I got a teensy bit carried away? c’mon tho we need Billy bickering with the kids, that would’ve been so adorable to see. had trouble since there’s so many characters, I chose to have just 4 out of all of the kids to be there since writing that many characters was a little daunting to me. enjoy:)

—

“Babe, I’m just saying that they’re old enough to fuck off and do whatever they want while their folks are gone. When we were their age we never had a sitter that read fuckin’ bedtime stories and cuddled us all night,” Billy reasons, grumbling as he rips apart the third bag of popcorn he’s made so far for tonight’s movie night with the kids. He shoves the movie snack in the microwave and slams it, huffing more complaints under his breath about hating the children for not allowing him his one-on-one time with his girlfriend.

You’ve of course noticed by now this far in the relationship you’ve shared with Billy how high his temper can elevate to. Maybe it’s directed to someone else, such as his dad (whom infuriates him the most, and rightfully so). However, his anger has never taken a tole on you. Ever. Maybe there’s a sprinkle of a disagreement between the two of you here and there, but he’s proven himself more than worthy of your trust. Thick and thin, he has been outstanding at comforting you and never lashing out at you if he had a hard day.

With that being said, his relationship with the kids is a different story.

Billy blatantly shows his disapproval and not to mention distaste for Dustin and Lucas in particular, whom have shown interest in his little sister. Nothing’s escalated to a full on fight before, he’s never stooped that low to throw hands on a kid. Although Billy vows to protect what’s his and he knows what goes through their heads, given that he was once their age and in awe of girls. So you could imagine the internal battle the teen is going to be fighting, having to sit pretty and stay calm for the sake of his girlfriend. Yes, he could have just skipped the ordeal entirely, maybe reschedule their date for when things could be a little more private. But when you offered that he could still come over while you babysit, with your goddamn puppy eyes and gentle pleas of desperation, fuck him if he can’t say no, alright?

Billy promised to be on his best behavior, but his patience has already worn thin and none of the kids have even arrived yet.

You sigh before sauntering over to where he stands, idly watching the transformation of the popping corn in the microwave with his hands on his hips. Turning his chin so that he meets your eyes, knowing that eye contact always seems to force him to snap out of it, you speak lowly in his ear.

“Listen, I get that they’re not your favorite to hang out with, but I promised you a little something if you play nice, didn’t I?” you pet his dirty blonde curls, another tactic for persuading Billy that you’ve learned. His pout fades a little, and he turns away before muttering a moody “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, look at me. Billy,” you request, turning his head gently once more. His blue eyes meet yours.

“Things’ll be just fine. You’ll do great, I know it. Because I didn’t fall in love with an asshole, I fell in love with you.”

How the fuck is Billy supposed to argue that?

—

All at once, the kids come as promised at seven, riding their bikes to your garage. It’s Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will that have been put under your wing for the night. Max has been on vacation to visit her side of the family, and El is spending her night watching Miami Vice with her dad. Steve wasn’t available either, working tonight at Family Video, which makes the perfect coincidence that you and Billy were to watch them together.

Dustin and Lucas were equally weary about Billy’s attendance at your movie night, shakey and worrisome about getting into it with your boyfriend. Will, however, could really care less. Billy never had any beef with him, probably because he never tried hitting on his sister.

“I’m just saying, Lucas, it would’ve been a good idea if we brought protection! We know he won’t hesitate to fucking murder us, so we need to be prepared!” Dustin whisper-shouts, his anxiety clouding his proper judgement. Lucas rolls his eyes and pushed the curly haired boy’s shoulder, knowing how ridiculous and sensitive he can get. Yes, Billy scares him shitless too, but he has faith in Y/N to tame the wild beast.

“You guys are idiots. God, Dustin, just shut up already. He would’ve killed us a long time ago if he planned on it, he’s had like a hundred chances already,” Mike complains, thinking that that’s somehow going to serve as reassurance to his friends. Dustin’s eyes grew impossibly wider than they already were, and Lucas curses under his breath before the door is ripped open in front of them.

Billy is the one to greet them at the door, chest puffed out as he eyes the shorter boys. He then leans on the side of the door, mocking them with one hand on a hip and a smirk playing his face.

“Well well well,” the older boy says. Without turning around and breaking eye contact with any of the middle schoolers, he shouts to get your attention. “Babe! Your Goonies are here!”

From inside the house in the living room, you squat in front of the television as you continue attempting to set up the film you chose.

“Yeah? And are you gonna let them in?” you ask, already smelling his alpha male behavior from a mile away. Billy reluctantly gives in, knowing he couldn’t deny you of anything you want, and opens the door wider to let the dorky dwarfs in. One at a time, they all rush to get inside, with a quiet Will being let in first by Billy, then come Mike second, and Lucas third. Dustin swallows audibly and keeps his eyes glued to his shoes as to not give the older boy any reason for trouble, and nearly loses it when he’s stopped by a hand on his chest.

“It wasn’t me, I swear! It was all Lucas’s idea, he was the one who was gonna hit on M—“ Dustin is quick to throw Lucas under the bus to save his own ass, and Billy would be lying if he said it didn’t make him wanna laugh for days. Of course this one kid in particular is the narc of the bunch. Makes sense.

“You agreed that you’d be civil, Billy! Ten seconds, you lasted not ten seconds!” you scold him as you march over to the door, livid enough to scare Billy back to being nice again. Without any further stalling, Billy looks down in what the kids see as shame, which they didn’t think he was even capable of feeling, then allows the ballcap wearing kid inside. Like a completely different person than he was not even five seconds ago, has he been fucking possessed, he walks over to where you stand and look knowingly at him. With a kiss on the cheek, and a whisper that none of the younger ones are able to hear, you’re back to normal and Billy is unusually quiet.

All the boys watch the show, seeing him go from alpha dog to obedient puppy instantaneously. Dustin mouthed ’what the fuck was that’ to Mike, baffled by the affect you had on the malicious blonde.

Mike rolls his eyes as he takes off his coat before muttering, “Love makes people crazy. And weird. But mostly crazy.”

—

“Billy was oh so very kind enough to make all you guys popcorn for the movie we’re watching tonight,” you squeeze Billy’s hip when you refer to him before he yelps and blushes. All the kids have no fucking idea how this monster has transformed, blushing because a girl touched him.

“Uh, thanks,” Dustin awkwardly reaches for one of the bowls of popcorn, hasty when he takes a piece and puts it in his mouth, trying to play detective to see if Billy put something in it.

When you and Billy walk to the kitchen he starts a dramatic coughing fit and lets out a string of curses, spitting it out then warns Lucas that he thinks it was poisoned.

“Everything okay out there?” You check in after hearing odd commotion, pulling away from the kisses that Billy was sprinkling all over your neck.

“Yeah, Dustin just choked on a kernel. He’ll be just fine, won’t you, Dusty?” Lucas harshly pats the boy’s back in an effort to cover up his stupidity as an accident. Will shakes his head at his dumb friends, but offers to eat it if he doesn’t want it.

“Hey Y/N, when are we starting the movie? We didn’t come here to sit and wait around, you know!” Mike calls out, all four of them going to the kitchen to see what the hold up was before peeking at quite a sight. It was you sitting on the kitchen counter, Billy between your legs, exchanging kisses and whispers of promises for what’s to come later as he softly combs his fingers through your hair keeping it out of your face. All four of their jaws dropped at the nauseating poster of pure tenderness being displayed in front of their eyes. The other hand that wasn’t in your hair was rubbing your waist, and it didn’t even look that sexual, instead looking just so goddamn loveable that it nearly made them all simultaneously hurl.

“I’ll — We’ll be out there in a minute, guys,” you stutter and laugh when Billy makes a face then traces a sweet line down your jaw with his thumb. “We’re making more popcorn!”

“Okay, no they’re not. That’s not what making popcorn looks like,” Dustin shakes his head and fakes a gagging sound.

“No shit, doofus. Who the hell would ever think Hill-Billy Hargrove could ever be that in love with someone who’s not himself,” Mike mumbles, before wordlessly throwing a pillow that lands directly at Dustin’s face.

When you and Billy finally emerge from the kitchen after whatever gross activities that high schoolers do, nothing but bickering is to be heard. You surrender with a shrug and an empty apology before pressing play on the film.

“So what is it that we’re watching, exactly?”

“Nightmare on Elm Street,” Billy answers the curly haired boy, not taking his eyes off the screen or his hands off Y/N. You two have somewhat of an unspoken language, communicating with nods and gestures that none of the middle schoolers can wrap their heads around. You’d nod your head to the bowl if you’d like to be fed a piece of popcorn, and without any protests on his end, your boyfriend feeds it right to you and then grabs a handful for himself. Mike wants to throw up, Dustin wants to die because of the horrible movie choice, and Will simply sits tight and kicks back his feet, somewhat enjoying himself.

“Uh, who the hell picked this garbage for us to watch?” Dustin asks, shoving his toothless mouth full of the buttery snack.

“The lady gets to pick whatever we do and whatever we watch, because she was sweet enough to even let you come over in the first place,” Billy spits, before earning a certain look from you that says ’you know better’ making him shut his trap. He nestles his face into your neck as a sheepish way to say he’s sorry, that he’ll try better before you get excited when asking him for another one of his heavenly massages. Billy is the number one champion at getting all the knots that sit in your shoulders and your neck out, and he never complains about doing the job either. He loves pleasing you. Turning to the side to give him a better angle at your back, he gets right to work and even puts his elbow into the mix. He always loves the soft sounds you let out from how pleasant the sensations are.

“Mm, you like it here? Want me to go up higher?”

“No no, it’s perfect right there. Wait, little lower. And harder. Yeah, that’s it,” you guide him and he follows your directions flawlessly, ignoring the glares from the dwarfs that have to sit and listen to this shit.

“Should’ve brought those barf bags that they use on planes,” Mike grumbles, turning his head back to the television where Johnny Depp is talking on the phone in a crop top. Freddie Krueger has yet to fuck shit up and kill people, but Dustin still covers his eyes and hides in Lucas’s shoulder.

Halfway through the movie, after Billy had given up massaging you given the cramp that started up in his hands, he gets bored. So bored, in fact, that fucking with the kids sounds like the perfect entertainment for right now. His girl is still nestled under his arm, and he’s sure as shit proud that you barely even flinched while watching Freddie slit numerous bodies open, cheap scare after cheap scare. And then the perfect idea comes to him.

“You know, I actually read somewhere that this movie’s based on a true story.”

Dustin snaps his head to the teenage blonde and gasps aloud, hiding further into the blankets. You on the other hand laugh at the absurdity and his attempt at scaring the kids, but allowing him to continue. It’s the first time he’s actually spoken to them without making a threat or ridiculing the boys anyway.

“You’re shitting me.”

Billy shakes his head, somehow in some way keeping a straight face as he stirs up even more complete utter bullshit. “Nope. They say that there really was a guy in a fedora that would come to you in your dreams, and if he killed you in your sleep, you’d die for real.”

The kids begin to outrage.

“Alright, that’s just—“

“Nuh-uh, no way, man. I’m never getting a second of sleep ever again!”

“Now WAIT a second, that can’t possibly be possible!”

And that’s where you draw the line, deciding they’ve had enough. “Okay, guys, GUYS! He was joking. That was his attempt at a joke,” you silence the chaos, while Billy sits there with a shit eating grin at the gasoline he poured into the fire. He could rile them up without even lifting a finger, and he was happy about that.

“You’re a goddamn demon! Jesus!” Dustin roars, pointing a finger at Billy as he sits and stares, not intimidated by the Little Red Riding Hoods that threaten him.

“Demon Jesus? Never heard of that one,” he smirks, getting up and throwing a blanket over the kid’s face. Dustin scrambles to shove it off him, annoyed at how Billy is Mister Nice Guy to Y/N but a fucking asshole to everybody else entirely.

“Shut up you guys, I wanna finish the movie already,” Will objects, trying to turn the sound up on the television to tune out the dispute. After the whole house finally seems to settle down and finish it up, you end up asleep and cuddled into Billy’s entire side as he pets your arm as to soothe you even though you’re not even awake, Will’s knocked out on the floor, same goes for Dustin and Lucas. The only ones left that haven’t yawned once are Billy and Mike.

It’s somewhat awkward when the credits begin to roll, giving the two boys no more room for something to do as they uncomfortably lay in silence. Mike almost wants to pretend to be asleep just to ditch any attempt at conversation Billy may potentially try, but it’s too late when they accidently make eye contact.

“Um, I’m gonna tuck her in to her bed real quick,” Billy whispers, holding up a finger to his lips to make Mike stay quiet. The younger boy nods in understanding, and then Billy carefully gets up from the couch and grabs you bridal style before carrying you to your room. When he comes back, Mike is still staring at the ceiling, thinking loud enough for Billy to want to say something to the kid.

“I was just messin’ with you kids, uh, about the movie being real and all. I didn’t know it’d piss all you off that much,” he scratches the back of his neck. Mike nods again, assuring him it didn’t freak him out nearly as much as it did his other two dweeb friends.

“Um, would it be cool if I asked you something?” the younger boy whispers after he gets up to join Billy in the kitchen, thankfully more private and away from all the sleeping figures in the living room. Billy stays standing but nods at the chair, signaling Mike to sit. He complies before awaiting an answer.

“Depends on what you ask.”

“Um, you seem really good at like, how to treat a girl. You’re usually terrifying but tonight I witnessed you hand feeding Y/N and giving her a massage for like an hour, not to mention the kissing and other gross stuff, but I just don’t get it,” he finishes, not knowing if he worded any of that right. And also worrying about getting punched for even asking.

“What don’t you understand?” Billy furrows his brows, unaware of what he was being asked here. “I love her and respect her. Which is what you’re supposed to do,” he answers, opening the fridge to grab a beverage. He looks back at Mike, then back to the fridge, then wordlessly snatches a Caprisun and throws it at Mike who barely catches it in time.

“No! No I know but I just—“

“Shh,” the older boy scolds, whispering for Mike to keep his voice down. He shakes his head then beckons the boy to come out back with him. Mike, somewhat frightened and confused, follows his lead not knowing where this conversation is leading. Billy takes a seat on the lawn chair before pulling a pack out of his back pocket, taking a stick out and putting it between his lips.

“Wanna elaborate then, please?” he scoffs with the cigarette in his lips, searching every pocket and even the outside table for a lighter. Mike stands stiffly as he fumbles to do as he was asked.

“I wanna know how you did it, y’know, got all that ‘feelings’ stuff down and then get to the good stuff,” Mike stumbles.

Billy, having found a lighter, pauses as he burns the top of his cigarette then takes a puff before letting out a laugh of disbelief.

“You’re comin’ to me for advice on how to get with my own goddamn sister.” Billy concludes. “Well, I’ll have you know that if you or any of you twerps lay a fucking finger on her I’ll—“

“Woah woah woah, no. That’s not what I want, okay! Your sister is annoying and gross,” Mike defends himself, even holding his hands up in some sort of pussy way to protect himself.

Billy pulls another face, huffing smoke out his nose akin to a dragon before getting even angrier.

“Don’t you dare call her that either, motherfucker!”

“So you don’t want me liking her or hating her. Makes perfect sense,” Mike gives him attitude, seemingly forgetting who he’s talking to.

“Hey, shitbird. I don’t want any of you piss-for-brains even near Maxine, but if you’re not talking about her, who the hell are you talking about?” Billy wonders, finding himself actually curious for once about middle school gossip.

“Wait, it’s not that little girl named after a number, is it?”

Mike’s avoidance serves as a confirmation.

Billy chuckles as he blows out more smoke, then even offers the middle schooler a hit, raiding his brows. He knows how bad the girl trouble gets, especially at that age when you have no idea what’s going on and why girls are hot and make you nervous all the sudden.

Mike’s face scrunches up in disgust.

“Dude, Y/N would kill you if she saw you offering me that.”

“That’s... yeah, you’re right. Pretend nothing happened,” Billy agreed.

“Okay. So were you just planning on making fun of me and then suggesting I smoke, or—“

Billy puts his hand up to silence him.

“Kid, I learned through bad experiences. But it takes the right girl that forgives and forgets when you fuck up. A special girl, not just the first one that walks by,” he explains, ashing the last of his spliff and putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

“Y/N did that? Forgive you and forget all the messed up shit you pulled?” he asks.

“Well, yeah. Only ‘cause she loves me. And she keeps me in line,” he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger as he speaks, still giddy and lovesick even after all this time he’s been with you. Mike doesn’t find it cute in the slightest, he snorts at it even, but takes his advice and keeps it at heart. He mutters ”whipped” on his way back inside, before gasping as a hand yanks on the back of his shirt, forcing him backward.

“Good luck with the girl, kid. But I’m holding you responsible for keeping your friends the fuck off my sister.”

—

had to put a dash of mileven in cause adorable, and when I pictured Billy offering the kids a smoke I laughed and knew it had to be written. hope this didn’t suck!

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Request: MomoJirou prompt! Jirou gets gravely injured protecting/saving Momo from danger!

Ah, yes! The angst and pain over the safety of a loved one~! Happens to be one my specialties, Anon!

Trigger Warning: Violence, Blood/ Gore

Rescue work was something that Jirou had a handful of experience with. She’d done her part during a hostage situation while doing her internship in her first year at UA. Her second year, she’d done her work study with a more general Heroics agency, working directly under a Pro named Genre Hopper. He was a fun Pro to work under, whose Quirk was that his fighting style changed based on what type of music he was listening to. He had taught her a lot about how to adjust her fighting style to prepare for the unexpected, and she was grateful for everything he taught her.

For her third year, though, she’d decided to join her girlfriend, Momo, and check out an agency that focused on rescues exclusively. They handled hostage situations, natural disasters and villain attacks. The agency was led by a Pro named Snowdrift, whose Quirk was Snow Leopard. Her ears, fangs, tail, and legs were feline in nature. She tended to only be around during the cooler weather, showing up at the tail end of September and then leaving in mid-March, as her body was better adjusted for cooler climates, to tend to business at a few agencies she operated in other countries. On the first day while they filled out their work study paperwork, she offered them some insights about how to manage multiple agencies, travelling, and things like that, as well as talking to them about priorities in regards to rescue missions while they were working with her agency.

“Your priority is always, first and foremost, any civilians caught in a disaster,” she said, holding up a finger, “and after that, focus on any other Pros that have been caught in the disaster; especially in the circumstance of the disaster being caused by a villain and their Quirk. As Pros, we’re better equipped to handle dire situations for longer than a civilian can. When it comes to this particular line of Hero work, your focus is always going to be doing what you can to save people. Property damage and ass-pats from reporters will come secondary to that.” She reached up with one finger and poked at three long, jagged scars running down the side of her face, starting just an inch below her right eye and curving all the way down to the hinge of her jaw. Her blue eyes lit up with amusement and she flashed them a cheeky grin. “And trust me, if you do your job right, you’ll get lovely little warning signs like these ones here. Warns future villains just what kind of Hell you can unleash and puts the fear of your name in’em!”

Jirou had decided she liked her right then, but Snowdrift just kept providing reasons to enjoy working for her. Unlike with her time working under Genre Hopper, who treated her like a student and kept her on a tight leash, Snowdrift tended to let them take charge more often than not. She gave them their patrol routes, when they were scheduled, and let them take it from there. It was strange for she and Momo to have a Pro outside of their teachers put so much faith and trust in them. “You’re on the cusp of stepping into the business proper,” Snowdrift answered when they asked, skimming through a file they’d brought her and grinning as she did. While on patrol, they'd caught a small gaggle of bank robbers but needed her sign off regarding the arrest since they were still considered students. She tugged a pen out of one of the little pouches on her belt loop, clicked out the tip, and signed off easily. “I trust you understand what that means, or else you two wouldn’t still be in your program. You may still be students, but you aren’t children, so I’m not gonna treat you as such.” She had said, offering the file back over to them with a grin still in place.

For the first few weeks, they mostly dealt with basic patrols. But then they got a call; an unexpected snow storm had started up near a campground where a group of middle schoolers were having a class trip. Snowdrift yanked her thermal cape and clawed gloves on when they got the call before turning to face her staff. “Creati, Earphone Jack, Heat Wave and Earth Shaker, you’re coming with me in Squad 1! Page Editor, I want you to lead Squad 2 and see what kind of recon you can get for us!” she barked out, motioning the others to follow her.

“Yes ma’am,” Page Editor called back, giving a brief salute before turning to call over two other sidekicks to join him.

They headed out in an armored vehicle that had been designed to handle the tough terrain of backwoods and such, as well as being designed to house up to thirty disaster victims. They were within the camp site in a matter of minutes, with Snowdrift and Heat Wave leaping out the second they could see the site up ahead. The snow storm seemed to intensify as the two Heroes made their approach. Earth Shaker took the vehicle up to the site, turning it and backing it closer to the campsite. Jirou and Momo scrambled out with a few thermal blankets in their arms, flocking over to the students clustered around Heat Wave. His Quirk was that he could amplify his own internal temperature to reach high temperatures that he could then channel out through small spouts all over his arms and legs. The middle schoolers were all crowding around him, their teeth chattering as they held their hands up towards the warm air coming off of him.

“Here,” Jirou said, carefully pulling one thermal blanket from her arms and draping it over a nearby student.

“T-Thank you,” she choked out, offering a shaky smile. Jirou nodded, offering a small smile, before darting to help distribute the rest of the thermal blankets. Earth Shaker darted over and clenched her hands to move the ground hidden below the layers of snow, forcing them up and over to form a dirt tunnel. It helped to keep out the chill and keep in some of the heat that Wave was generating.

“Get them into the vehicle and situated immediately; they need to be warmed up something fierce. Page Editor, any word on where this is coming from?” Snowdrift directed, pausing to click the little head set hooked to her ear.

“Well, it’s one of those good news, bad news situations, boss,” Page Editor’s voice chimed over the channel, his voice a little distorted due to either distance or the weather conditions.

“I take it the good news is that you know what’s causing it. Or, rather, who is causing it, but I'm guessing that's also the bad news," she answered, one hand settling on her hip as a small sigh escaped her.

“Bingo. Looks like we’ve got a few of the League’s little lackeys causing this trouble,” he agreed.

Snowdrift let out a swear, kicking at some snow under her paws. “Just great! Anyone of particular note?” 

“There’s the one creating this storm, who has been a bigger player for them for a while now. Looks like that lizard guy who has been running with them since early on is there, too, but other than that they’ve got three untested. Most likely just some bruiser-type lackeys here to play rough if we get too close,” Page Editor explained.

“Any indicators as to what kind of Quirks those three newbies are toting?”

“One of them looks like some kind of minotaur sort of guy; got the horns and a nose ring and everything. The other two just look like high school punks, but nothing too particular to pick up on with them from the distance I'm at. One of them seems real bothered by the cold, though, so that might give us something,”

Snowdrift hummed thoughtfully. “If the League is leading this charge, they have to be up to something. Editor, I want you to send word out to any other agencies in the area for back up. If you can get Hawks, Endeavor, or both of them on the line, they’d be preferred. They may be a showboater and a jackass respectively, but they’re effective and have experience dealing with the League,” she instructed before turning her attention back to her team. She motioned Momo and Kyoka towards her, leaning down a bit and keeping her eyes on the line of evacuating students. “If I had to wager a guess, the League is targeting at least one student here in specific. May be a kid with a particularly remarkable Quirk that they think would be of benefit to them.”

“So we’re going to have to get the kids out of here immediately, and prepare for the League to pursue,” Momo commented.

The older woman smirked and nodded. “Spot on. Heat Wave and Earth Shaker can manage well enough with the vehicle. The two of you have had some run-ins with the League of Villains before, yeah?” she prompted. They both nodded and her smirk widened. “Perfect. The plan is going to be that we hold them at bay. I’m pretty unperturbed by the colder temperature and the sleet, so I’ll see if I can’t dispatch the one making this flurry. I want you two to stay down here and keep the other members of their little posse from going after Wave and Shaker if they make their way down here.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they agreed eagerly.

She chuckled and nodded, moving to stand upright as the earth barrier began to crumble around them. “Take whatever measures you feel are necessary to incapacitate or nullify your opponents; I trust both of your judgment. Remember that your priorities are the civilians and each other, stay alert, and I know you’ll make those villains fear your names. Creati, Earphone Jack,” she said, offering a fond grin before she turned and tore off in the direction of where the heaviest of snow was plummeting down from.

It was less than five minutes later that the three rookie League members arrived.

There was the minotaur character that Editor had warned them about with either of the other two perched on a shoulder. They were both dressed in proper winter attire with wild hair and piercings. One of them had a neon green mohawk that had particularly stiff looking yellow streaks in it. If she wagered a guess, she thought those streaks might actually be something akin to spines since, unlike with just gelled hair, they were completely unfazed by the storm whipping around them. The other’s hair was long and composed of pastel shades of yellow, pink and blue in nonsensical patches. Despite the storm, their hair wasn’t tied back and whipped around them like a colorful flurry, somehow matching well with the manic grin and rusty pipe they were sporting.

“Well hello there, little heroes!” They shouted, hopping off the minotaur’s shoulder and beaming at them. Through their bangs, a pair of violet eyes with a black spiral pattern branching out from the pupil and intermingling with the hue of the iris were visible.

“Who are you calling little?” Kyoka scoffed, carefully moving her feet to be better grounded.

“You don’t seem to be any other than us,” Momo agreed with a small frown of her own.

The villain sneered at them, eyes fixating on the taller of the pair as they responded. “I may be the same age, but I’m nothing like you idiots! I know what the world is really like and I’m ready to tear the status quo of this shitty world to ribbons!”

The other rookie shifted, nudging the minotaur with the heel of their boot. Minotaur seemed to understand the unspoken request and reached out to help them slip down carefully. “Hey, Kie, can we hurry this up? I can’t stand it out here!” they whined out loudly, pitch rising and dragging out their words at the tail end.

Kie, as they were called, snorted and glared at their associate. “Ugh, what kind of man are you, Suoh? So fucking annoying!” they shouted back. They then indicated Minotaur with the flail of one arm. “You don’t see Oda whining like a little bitch! Your sorry ass could stand to take some points from him!”

“Oda doesn’t talk in general. And like you’re one to talk about acting your gender. You’re supposed to be a polite young lady and instead you’ve got a mouth on you that could make an inmate blush,” Suoh groused back quietly, shuddering as he hunched his shoulders in on himself. While the two of them argued, Jirou stole a glance at Yaomomo. The other met her gaze before glancing between the pair, staring particularly at Suoh, and then at Kie purposefully. The two of them had gotten so good at working together that barely a word needed to be exchanged.

She shifted her earlobes down towards her amps discreetly, keeping her eyes trained on them. Oda, as the minotaur man was called, seemed preoccupied with watching his associates as they bickered, the pair ready to come to blows. Kie suddenly jolted to attention and whipped to face them, the black spirals of their eyes turning. “Oda, it’s play time!” she squealed excitedly while pointing at Momo.

Oda perked up before letting out a low snort and running around his associates and heading straight for her. Momo barely had enough time to conjure up a shield for herself before the other was ramming his long, jagged horns towards her. He hit with enough force to dent the shield and send her skidding back through the snow a few paces before she managed to get enough grounded to shove him back and dart over towards Jirou. “Earphone, now!” she shouted as she rushed toward her.

“Cover your ears, boys!” Kie shrieked with manic glee before clamping her hands down over her own just as Jirou’s earlobes connected with the amp. The two did as she said as a loud, rattling sound wave came from her. They didn’t have protective gear that would keep them completely safe, but the forewarning the other had given them certainly helped. When the sound wave died away, Oda shook his head with a small huff, his large ears flicking in irritation. “Pretty shitty that I know what you’re planning to do, huh?” the young villain goaded, cocking her head at them.

“Earphone, I’m pretty sure that-!” Creati started to say between small pants.

“Bingo, sweetie! You’re on the right track!” she mused happily, tapping at her temple.

Suoh rolled his eyes. “Your Quirk isn’t hard to figure out once you start using it,” he groused at her. He then reached up to grab at the stiffer portions of his hair, snapping it and producing a long spike. A part of Jirou was proud to know that her guess had been correct, but her eyes flickered back over to the female. They knew what all three of their Quirks were, now, which did a lot, but that girl, Kie… She posed a very different kind of threat.

It was clear she had some kind of mind reading Quirk. The moving black swirls in her eyes seemed to be an indicator of when she was using it, but they still had no idea what the limitations were on it. How long could she keep that up for? And how far was the reach for it? Was it like Aizawa-Sensei’s Quirk, where she had to have her eyes on the target? Or could she focus on multiple targets at once? She stole a glance over at Momo and could see she was staring Kie down as well. Her brows were knit in frustration, a clear indicator that she was thinking very hard about something.

Kie cocked her head again at Yaoyorozu, letting out a small amused puff. “Do you really think that just reciting your homework over and over will work to beat out my Quirk? You’ll have to think about what you’re doing soon enough, you stupid little bitch,” she growled out lowly, smacking her lead pipe down hard in her other palm.

Jirou’s eyes widened a bit as she looked between her partner and the villains. Momo was painting a target on herself specifically to get them some more answers. From this, Jirou could deduce that she could only handle one target at a time. After all, she’d been focused on Momo from the minute they’d shown up and only took action when, presumably, the other was thinking about their strategy. This must mean that they had some amount of intel about what to expect, had known that one of Creati’s greatest strengths was her ability to strategize. If they took that ability away from her, though, they could try to back them into a corner.

She was snapped from her musings when Oda charged at her, narrowly avoiding him by dodge-rolling off to the side. Oda stood between she and Momo now, head dipped as he readied for another charge. Behind him, she could see Kie’s form making a mad dash from Momo, Suoh moving to join her. She’d been expecting the divide and conquer approach to be the method they picked, given there was more of them with Snowdrift trying to get the other member of their team. So, Jirou thought with a growl, she’d need to get this guy out of the way as quickly as possible to even the odds. Her gaze flicked over to the twitching bull ears on his head. She needed to test her theory to see if it was plausible.

As she dodged two more lunges from the minotaur, she managed to change the settings on the left boot speaker. With that done, she slipped one earlobe into it and sent out a sound current, though this was of a slightly higher frequency. She had tinkered with the idea of finding ways to adjust the pitch of her sound waves to diversify her fighting style a bit. Up until the thought occurred to her, she’d mostly just relied on the volume of the sound to get the job done. She watched as the other’s ears twitched frantically before he shook his head, dark eyes sparking bright with anger.

With that theory tested and proven, she knew how to get him down.

It was a struggle to adjust her setting after that. It seemed he had realized that she was looking for something to exploit to beat him. If it came to a matter of physical strength alone, he’d wipe the floor with her in seconds. And if he kept her playing the dodge game, she wouldn’t be able to enact her plan. She managed to get a few more sound waves off to at least disorient him a bit to try and get the settings up higher, to a more grating level.

But then she heard the distinct thump of metal making contact with skin and stole a glance over just in time to see Momo's form slumping toward the ground. Oda took the chance to rush her again, a snort from him snapping her back to focus. She twisted to move away, but was a step too late, the jagged tip of his horn colliding with the hinge of her jaw and dragging along the bone up to her chin. She had to bite her tongue hard to keep from crying out as her skin was sliced through, the sensation of bone on bone with how deep in he'd gotten agonizing. She spun and hit the ground, taking in a shuddering wheeze as she watched blood pour steadily to paint the snow beneath her, fingers digging into the slish for some kind of support. If she fell over then she'd definitely be done for. He snorted again, moving behind her slightly, but she seized the chance she'd been given.

She whipped around and chucked a sizable stone hidden beneath the snow at him, catching him in the eye and causing him to stumble back with a feral shout. With her other hand, she adjusted the settings one final time, then let out the loudest of the sound waves she could produce. She'd approached Kouda once to ask about ways to ward off animals outside of just volume of a sound. He had suggested she take frequency into account as well, since there were pitches that only animals could hear and that would distress them.

Smug satisfaction coursed through her as the villain stumbled back with a furious shout, reaching up to clamp his hands down over his ears. She took the chance to dart towards him, leaping and digging the heel of her boot right into his head. He hit the ground hard, going as far as trying to burrow his head into the snow to escape the sound, and she gave another two firm kicks to his head.

When he went limp, she whipped around and rushed towards where Momo had been fighting off the other two. Kie had her back to her, lead pipe raised to strike again, and Jirou threw herself into her. She looped her arms around the other's stomach and tossed her aside with all her strength. She hit the ground and went tumbling a few feet away with a series of displeased swears. Jirou whipped around to locate the third one, Suoh, before a jabbing pain seared into her right side. Her body tensed as she glanced down, seeing the villain in question kneeling before her, two of his quills piercing clean through Jirou.

His chest was heaving and blood was dripping from his left temple. His right ankle was also clearly cracked, the foot itself  tilted at an odd angle with gore and bone peeking out. The wrist of the hand twisting the quills into her side was also red and looked swollen, while the left arm was wrapped around his own stomach, clearly trying to soothe some kind of ache as he took in laboured breaths.

Momo had clearly given them Hell before they got her down.

She seized his bad wrist to wretch his grip off the quills and yank him to the side, eliciting a pained shout from him, and slammed the hand speaker on her other hand into the side of his face. She made sure to aim for where she'd seen the blood and swallowed hard when he went limp from the blow. She then turned around, yanking out the quills in her side and lashed out with them. She clipped Kie in the face with them as the other approached.

"You bitch!" Kie screeched, stumbling back a step before making a mad charge at her again.

Jirou anticipated it and braced herself for the impact, the two of them tumbling into the snow in a mess of limbs flailing to land blows. She kept her grip on the quills and managed to pierce one through her attacker's hand, who retaliated by elbowing her in the wound along her jazz. Her vision went white for a split second at the searing pain but she reminded herself that she couldn't give up.

For Momo's sake, she couldn't let this little monster take her down.

They grappled briefly, both worn out from the fight, but Jirou managed to get behind the other and wrap an arm firmly around her neck. "Y-You gonna kill me, Hero?" Kie sneered, clawing at her arm frantically. She dug her nails in hard enough to break the skin, leaving jagged bleeding marks in her wake.

"Putting you down for a fucking nap, you overgrown toddler!" she snapped back, pulling back with more force and using her other arm to help her maintain the hold and pressure. Kie squirmed and thrashed for a little longer, but her movements slowed until she was limp. Jirou shoved her aside, watching her roll face first into the ground. She swallowed hard and the taste of copper tickled the back of her throat.

But, she noted as she took to her feet shakily, the snowstorm had died down. She hobbled her way over to Momo, her movements languid as her the adrenaline coursing in her veins started to dwindle. She fell to her knees beside the other's prone form, cautiously reaching towards her to guide her from her side to her back. There was blood on the side of her head and trickling down the side of her face, as well as some smaller defensive wounds on her arms. Ultimately, though, it was clear she'd been doing well against both opponents until they landed that head blow. She was still breathing, too, which had her breathing much easier herself.

"Little miracles make all the difference," she panted softly, reaching out to gently grip one of Momo’s hands in her own. She then reached up to tap at her headset with her free hand. "Earphone Jack to Snowdrift. Come in, Snowdrift."

There was static for a moment before a small click. "Snowdrift in. How are things on your end, Earphone Jack, Creati?" The Pro's breathing was labored but she sounded pretty composed other than that.

"The three here have been knocked out for easier arrest. Creati and I took a good beating though," she managed to get out, shaking her head as spots started to appear in her vision. She hoped her words didn't sound as slurred to Snowdrift as they did to her. "Creati took a hard blow to the head and is unconscious. I've got a lot of blood loss from some puncture wounds."

"Earphone Jack, I can barely understand you. Are you okay?" Snowdrift asked, voice becoming stiff with concern.

"Lots of blood," she managed to wheeze out, body sagging slightly.

"Wait, blood? Is it yours and Creati's?" she asked frantically. "Shit! Page Editor's on his way down! Hawks, get your sorry ass down there, too! Earphone Jack, stay with me! Keep talking until they get there!"

Jirou tried to open her mouth to answer, but the exhaustion that had been creeping in became too much. She felt her body slump into the snow, barely registering the whine she released as cold snow jabbed into the gouge on her jaw.

"Earphone Jack? Earphone? Damnit, Jirou Kyoka, answer me!"

[tenseoyong]

Bottoms Up

Description: Running into your childhood neighbor that also doubled as your childhood crush at a house party makes for an interesting reunion.

Warning: Smut

Ko-Fi | Masterlist

What am I doing here? You asked yourself for the umpteenth time, while carefully moving through the crowd, attempting to avoid bumping into the moving bodies around you. People were dispersed everywhere; dancing, playing games, drinking, making out in the corner shamelessly in front of their peers. Lights were flashing, music blasting loud enough to shake the walls. Empty cups and chip bags scattered across the floor, a stray condom still in the wrapper discarded beside the couch.  I hope whoever’s that was, isn’t upstairs right now without it... “Hey, you made it!” You heard Hyujin shouting over the music before you were able to spot her in the swaying crowd, making her way to come to your ‘aid’ and save you from looking like a stray just wandering into a party without an invite.  “Yeah, I figured I should at least show up.” You yelled back, glancing around at the mass amount of people crowded ina house significantly too small to occupy the population, leading to them spilling out into the front yard as well.  “Good!” Hyujin grinned. “You need to get out more! Now all you need is a drink!” She clutched your arm, pulling you towards the kitchen that homed the large beer keg sitting atop the dining table, surrounded by a group of boys playing beer pong. Letting you hover by the entrance, Hyujin fought through the sea of boys. She shoved one of the boys to the side for access to the keg, and he yelled out and turn to look at who ‘ruined his shot’. Cute, you couldn’t help but note when he spun around. Wild, blonde-dyed hair hung in the way of shining almond eyes. His eyes settled on you, and his frustration was replaced with a wide smile. “Aye! I remember you!” He exclaimed, abandoning his game and slinging his arm around your shoulder, nearly spilling whatever drunk he had grasped in his other hand all over himself. Even in his slightly drunk state, he was able to recall you easily. “We lived next door to each other! Do you remember? Remember that time I chased you with a worm and you cried? I remember!” “Er, yeah.” You muttered, leaning back to save your poor eardrums from his drunken shouting. You maintained a cool attitude, as to not excite him any more than he already was. You’d never seen him drunk before. He was so different with alcohol in his system that your memory recalled. “I told my mom on you, and she told your mom. You got in trouble. Long-time, so see, Yukhei.” “H-how’ve you been?!” He stumbled, almost taking you to the floor with him before he regained his balance. “I haven’t seen you since, what? Second-year of high school? Where’d you disappear to?” “Oh, uh, I went to a different high school. We moved.” “And you didn’t tell me all this time? Well, it’s nice you’re back! You got a drink? No, doesn’t look like it, but you need one! Here!” He handed you his half-full cup. “I’ll get another one, we need to catch up! Wait here!”

You remembered him. Probably more than he actually remembered you. Leaning against the wall and sipping at the half-drunk beer, you recalled being a young middle schooler when his family moved in next door. You’d watched from your bedroom window, observing the family that finally bought the vacant house that’d been empty since you were a baby. Curiosity couldn’t be helped, and you shamelessly stared out the window at the newest edition to the neighborhood. Your eye was caught when a young boy, ran from inside the house to the car to help his mother carry a box. He looked about your age, maybe a hint older. A sweet-looking boy, happily helping his family without fuss. It all started when he looked up after lifting one box and spotted you watching them. He had to be strange, you remembered thinking when he, instead of being freaked out that some unknown kid was watching him, he had grinned madly and waved excitedly at you, nearly dropping his box in the process. That led you him coming over later that day after they had called it quits for the day, and introduced himself to you as Wong Yukhei, your new neighbor. From then on, you played together every day. You wouldn’t say you were inseparable, but you had a nice friendship from then up until you moved.

“You know,” Yukhei muttered into the night air after the two of you had escaped the crowded house party to sit on the back porch, away from the wild college students. “I was so upset when I went next door...that day and you weren’t there. That my mom had to be the one to tell you moved away, without even so much as a goodbye...” “Yuk, I told you I was sorry.” You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder. “It was a spur of the moment move, and I didn’t have your number. We saw each other every day, why would I have your phone number?” “Still, I don’t know if I could forgive you for breaking my little teenage heart.” He teased, leaning his head against yours, sighing in content. “Oh, you poor baby.” You pouted jokingly. “is there anything I can do to fix your poor broken heart?” Tilting his head to look down at you, catching your eye through the darkness. “Hmm...I’ve got something in mind...”

After kicking out some drunk that’d collapsed on the floor, your back hit the bed of whoever’s room Yukhei had dragged you in, now completely alone. Crawling over you, eyes clouded with lust, Yukhei let out a shaky breath at the sight of you spread out before him, spread out for him. “I’m not going to lie,” Yukhei whispered, swallowing hard, throat dry with excitement. “I’ve thought about this before...” “Can’t say I haven’t either...” You shied from his eyes. “Good.” Yukhei smiled, ducking his head and letting his warm breath hit your throat before nipping it softly. “Then I know you want me as much as I want you.” You moaned quietly, tangling your fingers in his bright hair as Yukhei trailed his lips down your neck, gasping as he bit down harshly at the base of your throat, sucking hard, determined to mark you as much as he possibly could. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk; happy with your response, he soothed the red bite mark with his tongue and blowing cool air over the heated skin before sitting up, pulling you with him. Yukhei pressed his lips to yours, hand coming up to hold your face to his, curling his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back again, exposing your neck. He descended again, sucking another mark on the opposite side of the first, higher, just beneath your ear before whispering, “Arms up.” You obeyed without a second thought, much to Yukhei’s pleasure. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, he effortlessly lifted it from your body and tossed the clothing behind him. Yukhei curled his arms around your bare waist and pulled you flush against him, returning to your lips as he pressed his hips to yours, making you fully aware of his need for you. Your hips moved subconsciously against his, drawing deep and guttural moans from him; his fingers dug into your hips, encouraging your movements.   “Don’t be a tease.” He muttered in between messy kisses, only separating when you pulled at his t-shirt, leaning back to let you remove it before immediately reconnecting your lips. Yukhei pushed you from his lap, laying you back down against the bed. Kicking off your shoes, you let him loop his fingers in the belt loops of your jeans, slowly wiggling them down past your hips and off your legs, dropping them off the side of the bed before you reached for his belt.  Leaning over you, arms on either side of your shoulders, caging you in where you lay beneath his warm body. You whimpered in need as he rolled his hips against yours, building a steady rhythm against your core. Tugging desperately at the leather, you barely managed to mumble against his lips, “Off..” Yukhei was all too happy to oblige, shuffling to prop himself on his knees, dark eyes watching you as he took his sweet ol’ time unbuckling the clasp, the sound of metal sent a tingle straight to your core. Teasingly, he worked slow, sliding the belt through the hoops, popping the button of his jeans and dragging the zipper down, never once breaking eye contact. It took a little effort you remove his pants without standing from the bed, but he somehow managed before dropping back to press his full body against your form, not letting an inch of skin go untouched by his.  Yukhei traced invisible lines across your chest, hands coming up to slightly pull down your bra before getting annoyed at the uncooperative fabric and stripping it from you altogether, turning his attention to your exposed chest. “Beautiful.” He muttered, breath ticking your skin, the warmth compared to the cold room causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. “So, tell me...” Yukhei whispered, hooking his fingers in either side of your panties. Confidence high as it was, you still couldn’t help the flush that covered your face that didn’t go unnoticed by Yukhei. “You’re not going to run out on me again, are you? I want a number after, you’re not disappearing on me again.” “It’s a deal.” You cooed, bucking against him impatiently. “Now, fuck me.” Yukhei tsked softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  “So impatient, aren’t you...” His warm touch trailed down your bare stomach, the light touch tickling oh so slightly, as his hand made it’s way south. A single finger brushed against your core, making you suck in a breath, anticipating his every move. He gathered your arousal before slowly sinking his digit in your warmth. Pulling your lip between your teeth, shifting your gaze back and forth between his glazed eyes and his fingers working a steady rhythm in your pussy. Not willing to cut the foreplay short, Yukhei added another finger, grinning at the way your breathing got ever so slightly heavier, and teasingly brushed his thumb over your clit at unexpected times, giving you just a quick flash of extra pleasure before stealing it away again.  “So wet,” Yukhei muttered, curling his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion, brushing against your g-spot and forcing you to arch your back, a surprised squeak jumping out of you. “And so, so easy to please.” “Don’t tease me, Yukhei.” You whined, bucking your hips in a desperate attempt to get him to touch that hidden spot. “I swear to god, I’ll disappear again, I swear!” “And very demanding, it seems.” Yukhei snickered. “I don’t know, I don’t like being bossed around under the sheets, that’s my job.” Fixing a faux look of anger on your face, you reached out and grasped his bulge through his boxers, taking the words right out of his mouth. Gently squeezing, you relished in the deep groan he released and falter in his fingers. “Unfortunately for you,” You whispered, roughening your touch. “I like being in charge.” “Well, that might be a small problem,” Yukhei growled. He withdrew his touch and grasped your thighs, yanking you closer to him. Tucked underneath his body, hard cock pressed to your core, the power tease tipped in one direction. “I don’t get bossed around.”  His body firm against your own, Yukhei tightened his grasp on your waist. You still managed to wiggle from his hold, defiantly giggling at his frustrations. With a grunt, Yukhei had you both rolled over. For a moment, it settled into your brain how awkward this really was, being so close to a man you hadn’t seen for years, feeling the warmth from him radiating between your legs. But that was washed away quickly, Yukhei played with a strand of your hair, pulling you into his chest. Gently lifting your eyes to his, you could see the tender gaze he returned. “Are you sure about this?” Yukhei asked softly, soothing a hand down your back to settle on your waist again. “Yeah,” You swallowed. “I’m sure, I’m just...nervous...” “It’s okay,” Yukhei assured. “It’s just me, no one else. We can stop any time, and we’ll just forget this, yeah?” Reassured, you nodded, leaning down to reconnect with his sweet kisses. It seemed like Yukhei was submitting the reigns for the night, making no move to shift you from his lap and take control again. He maintained his hold on your waist, following your movements as you started to rock against his clothed bulge, sighing in relief into the kiss. Your hips ground harder against his cock, Yukhei slowly buck up against you, aiding to your pleasure.  All of a sudden, you halted your grinding and lifted yourself to grasp the sides of his boxers and wiggle them down enough for his hard length to be freed. Yukhei sucked in a sharp breath at the cool air hitting his leaking cock and didn’t attempt to stifle his moan as you grasped him. Shifting again to be able to rub the leaking tip between your slick folds. Yukhei’s fingers tightened around your hips, patience wearing thin but still determined to let you move at your own pace, held his breath as bare flesh rubbed against bare flesh. And as if to reward him for his, ahem, efforts, you bit your lip in anticipation and lowered yourself. Gasping as each inch was buried inside you, you dug your blunt nails into Yukhei’s shoulders for support. An eternity later, you were settled back onto his lap, Yukhei balls deep in your pussy. Subconsciously, Yukhei’s hips twitched, aching to pound you into next week, each tiny move sending you shockwaves of pleasure. In an attempt to keep his hips at bay, Yukhei settled on turning his attention to your chest; massaging your breasts, pulling you close enough to suck a nipple, nipping a hickey here or there.  Your fingers released his shoulders, relocating to get lost in his unbelievably soft hair before hesitantly shifting your hips. That little movement was enough to have you toss your head back and whimper, Yukhei groaning lowly against your chest. Unable to contain yourself, you started up a rhythm. Yukhei’s deep thrusts matched your firm grinding. Each thrust sparking against your poor cervix, the pleasurable pain forcing you to pull back only to be filled with his cock again, repeating the spark until you saw fireworks behind your eyes. Your back arched, feeling the heat inside you growing with every move of the gorgeous man below you, pushing you closer and closer to becoming undone. Digging your nails into Yukhei’s skin again, you yelled out as you cum, thighs twitching on either side of his lap. Yukhei’s groaning grew louder, feeling your walls contracting, fluttering around his cock, milking him until you felt the wet warmth in your core. Sensitivity setting in for both of you, you could only withstand a few more thrusts, a couple seconds of grinding against one another in a desperate attempt to prolong your high before you were forced to separate.  Heavy breathing filled the room, the faint booming of the music from the party still raging down below, Yukhei held you still for a moment. You couldn’t begin to know how long he’d held you, your breathing seemed to take hours to return to normal. Still joined down below, sitting up straight felt odd. You could still feel him buried deep inside, growing softer by the second. The thought alone was almost enough to get you going again, but the unwelcome wave of painful pleasure tickling you forced you to move. Yukhei carefully helped you off, a wet sound was detected as his slick member slipped from you, leaving a wet trace against the inside of your thighs. In the same motion, Yukhei guided you to lay beside him, pulling the blanket from beneath him to gently clean you, chuckling every time you twitched and whined as he brushed over your abused core.  The dark look in his eyes was gone when you turned to him, curling into his warm side, his arm finding it’s way around you, holding you softly. Lust clouded eyes were replaced with that tender look again, and he half-smiled down at you. “Quite the reunion, huh?”

[smartguyreviewed]

2x2 - Working Guy

Originial air date: September 17, 1997

Did anyone have an actual job when they were teens? I remember how embarassing it was for me, a high schooler in the mid-aughts, to tote around resumes in my little manila folder and then be told to either apply online or have some snooty white asshole at Eddie Bauer all but dismiss me because he was clearly racist. The only jobs I really “held” included being an election judge twice, once during that totally insignificant 2008 presidential race and the other being a summer camp counselor at the church I went to. 

Those little jobs sucked but I chose them. The students of Piedemont High were not that lucky. 

The setting for this episode is the work experience program that shows students what it’s like to have a job. I have a lot of questions. I’m sure some of these students fared better than me back then and already have jobs, so wouldn’t this make no sense? Would they have two jobs? Are all of these jobs suitable for minors? Why does Piedmont fund such strange things?

Mo, as usual, (or depending on the plot of the episode) only cares about the perks of whatever he’s doing. With the band, it’s the girls. With this program, it’s being able to leave school after lunch. Wait, what? They’re having the students skip multiple classes for this? Is this part of a class or an elective? I wonder because this seems like it takes up a lot of time.

TJ is more excited about working in the industry of his choice, but if that was the case, he’d already have a job assigned to him as opposed to having to pick what’s on the board, making it first come, first serve. This is dumb and I can’t believe I have this many questions about a fictional high school. Anyways, TJ is short so he can only grab what he can reach and it’s not what he wants at all because he has a menial blue collar job.

Meanwhile, at the crib, Floyd is pissed because his basketball buddy who is a doctor apparently has cancelled their game because he has to do surgery. Floyd is only petty every once in a while so I’ll let him have this one. Then Marcus comes in wearing a suit and even though we’ve definitely seen him dressed up before, the audience goes wild. I hate canned audience reactions! He says not to hate him because he’s wearing Armani. 

I first thought Marcus was joking because it looks like a Sears original to me, but apparently he took Floyd’s credit card and had a ball buying clothes for his fancy schmancy job. Okay, I have more questions. Marcus had to buy a whole suit and shoes to enter his predominately white workspace. Is Piedmont paying for things the students need to even work at their job? What if you’re a natural black woman and you have to get your hair straightened if you have Marcus’s job? This is all for a part time job during school hours, so will these hours count towards credit since you’re not in class? I am so confused. 

Floyd is surprisingly okay with Marcus running up his card because his next question is asking if he can help Floyd get ready for his game. Marcus jokes that he’s going to be drinking with the guys after work. Floyd doesn’t press further and says he’ll practice alone until Yvette offers. Marcus and Floyd have a nice kii at this because duh, Yvette’s a girl and girls don’t play basketball. I love how all the Henderson men (including Mo) are sexist in their own ways. This isn’t the first time Floyd disregards his daughter when it comes to doing “manly” things and Marcus and TJ bond over their hatred of Yvette when her feminine ways don’t align with their default male ways. 

TJ comes in and doesn’t want to talk because he’s embarassed to have this job that was forced on him. Marcus adds insult to injury by informing him that he’s working at Marcus’s job.

Speaking of Marcus, this dude just doesn’t quit. He begins sexually harassing one of the women who works there, inquiring about what she does. She has to explain to him what a DVD is, immediately dating this show. Luckily, she has sense and shoots down his attempts. Sis can’t even do her job without some horny little high school boy bothering her. This program is stupid, by the way.

TJ enters, wearing his blue collar work uniform and ringing a bell. After fending off the usual “aww he’s so cute” remarks, he’s led into the office that needs the grub. The buffoons working there can’t seem to figure out whatever physics equation makes the DVDs run and of course, TJ is effortlessly able to offer a suggestion. He gets poached from this stupid temp position to help them out.

Floyd and Yvette are practicing in the garage when Marcus and Mo show up to gloat about their temporary yet important positions. Marcus has his own office. I would hate to be the person who worked there for years, sacrificed weekends, holidays and their sanity to get a promotion and their name on a door, only to watch a punk ass intern from high school get it instead. Mo is somehow working for a judge but I’m not sure for how long because this briefcase that was foolishly given to him contains a document that should have already been mailed off to William Renquist. Mo quickly dashes from that scene to deliver the mailpiece. Marcus makes an extremely dark joke that i didn’t even catch at first about someone getting the electric chair due to Mo’s carelessness. I’m sorry but I bellowed at that. However, I question how many lawsuits will be filed against Piedmont after this program is over.

TJ comes home and announces that he quit his blue collar job and is now working as a special consultant for research and development at DVD Electronic. That’s the name of the company? It’s so bland and generic that i sounds like an Amazon seller of used books and shit. Floyd is confused but TJ gets hired by a large company every other week so it’s whatever.

At work, we see TJ has his own office. Remember that person I would hate to be? They have to watch a fucking 10 year old get it instead. Maybe they did a mass firing or something because they seem to have plenty of rooms to just give to people. Of course, TJ likes the new digs. After his friendly secretary introduces him to his space, the resident hater shows up. I guess the person I was describing earlier is this white man, because man is he salty about having to share a cubicle when he started. White man is now attempting to get into TJ’s head and asks that he pitch all ideas to him first. How TJ, who is probably a psycho or sociopath didn’t see through this as a ruse for him to profit off his black ass ideas is beyond me. Or maybe TJ is faking dumb so that when he does reveal white man’s treachery, it’s more believeable? 

Marcus barges in and the white man is two seconds away from calling the cops before Marcus lets him know they’re related. But white man thinks him calling TJ his brother is a “black” thing until TJ says they are related albeit with similar genetic coding. I assume this is an obvious reference to Marcus being darker than him? Funny because I just wonder if Floyd’s wife was dark or if they both have a dark skinned parents and it just so happened to manifest in Marcus and no one else? Or maybe Marcus is actually his half-son? Let me stop. 

After the white man leaves, Marcus correctly assumes he is a piece of shit but TJ disagrees. He then gets a call to join a meeting. The head boss who is stationed in Zurich makes it a point to consider that TJ’s work study day ends at 5--wait, so they’re away from school for that long?--but quickly ignores that tidbit when some meeting gets pushed to 6. Of course, TJ shouldn’t be here unsupervised and out this late but we’re gonna ignore that even if the logistics of the Piedmont Work Study Program still boggle my mind.

So yeah, TJ is stuck at work and being asked about one of his ideas, the big boss says that the white man told him to filter all ideas through him. The white man is clearly displeased with TJ snitching but the boss man ends up making TJ the new head of the project. That’s how you use your privilege, even if it is child endangerment! The hating white man (whose name is Dick Ferrett by the way) comments to another coworker that TJ is toast. How dare this little black bastard be better than him?

Meanwhile, at home, Floyd is nursing an Yvette inflicted wound from when they were practicing basketball. TJ comes home acting like a middle aged adult, complaining about work and how bad traffic was. When Floyd notices how TJ is being affected by this job, he suggests that he quit. TJ whines for a little bit and Floyd relents. What the fuck Floyd, drag him by his collar and make him sit down! TJ promises to make Floyd’s game which means he won’t be able to make it because of work.

The next day, TJ is at work and discussing things with his secretary. The hating white man is just itching to fuck up TJ’s day and it shows. You might not be wondering who replaced TJ as the chow wagon boy but it turns out that it was Mo. Yes, instead of being fired from this program that he had no business being in to begin with, he was demoted to TJ’s job.

TJ is about to leave for the day when hating ass white man comes and dumps a bunch of work on TJ’s desk. See? Told you he wouldn’t be able to make Floyd’s game! Luckily, his secretary is going to film it for him.

Back at work, TJ is falling asleep trying to carry these stooges to a victory and the hating ass white man is actually calling TJ names. They even go back and forth for a moment. Floyd finally decides that enough is enough and he’s bogarted his way through security to get TJ because I’m sure it’s midnight at this point. TJ tells Floyd he must be mad that the game was missed. Floyd says he isn’t mad although the other guys’ kids showed up. Aww Flody. Parents have feelings, too.

The head white boss offers Floyd to hire TJ permanently but Floyd declines. TJ is able to get the hating ass white man fired before he leaves, in a move that is definitely petty but deserved. Fuck that guy, exploiting a gifted black child like that.

TJ is mad at Floyd according to a conversation between Yvette and himself. He thinks TJ is going to be mad at him forever but he comes downstairs and asks to play dominos with him. Aww. This is quickly ruined as per the usual. We all know TJ only abruptly forgives and forgets when he has an ulterior motive. This time, he’s going behind Floyd’s back to keep working with DVD Electronics. Floyd comes in during a session. I’m assuming he got his ass whooped after this but we just fade to black before an arms-folded Floyd can dole out any punishment. Eh, guess we’ll find out in the next episode. Ha. No we won’t.

Stuff I noticed:

- DVD Electronics video chat has a pretty stellar, crisp quality for 90s internet.

- Mo rewore this shirt from a prior episode. I really like when characters rewear clothes. It’s much more realistic than characters who seem to always have money for new outfits no matter how broke they claim to be.

- When TJ is bringing in the food, there’s an audience member who yells “You go, girl!” I have heard this woman in the audience of a Boy Meets World episode and another show that I can’t recall, but further proves that canned laughter is creepy and needs to be banned everywhere.

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [22]

Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 23

➜ Words: 5.6k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

Rarely do cases go on trial. Unlike most lawyer-related and crime television shows, family law has much less action than criminal or civil law. The most exciting things that happen are arguments that break out during mediation or reading case files and seeing all the things that transpired. Divorce can get ugly, that’s for sure.   But while you rarely get to see Hoseok in a court setting duking it out with his opponent, there’s still a lot of times when you get to see his passionate side.   Like now.   “God, have you tried this pineapple juice?! How did they even get this into a coconut. It’s spectacular! You have to try this!”   Okay, to be fair he wasn’t being passionate about his work right now, but it’s still cute and endearing. And you might just be a little whipped for this nerd.   “Isn’t this supposed to be a business trip?” You have your elbow propped up on the counter of the bar, cheek in your hand as you stare out at the ocean that reflects the afternoon sunlight, blinding your vision.   “It is.”   “Then why are we on the beach drinking pineapple juice?”   “Why not?” Hoseok smiles, all too casual in sunglasses, taupe cargo shorts and a loose flannel that screams he’s a tourist. No one would ever expect he’s a hot shot lawyer in this get-up. “Didn’t you tell me to loosen up and that it’s not always about work?”   “Yeah, but this just doesn’t feel like a business trip…..at all.”   “The trial finished early.” Jung Hoseok sips on his coconut, looking both cocky and comical at the same time. It was definitely a bizarre sight to behold. “I can’t tell you the details because of confidentiality, but the opponent may or may not have accepted our terms and now the father may or may not have his kids during weekends and thankfully those kids don’t or do have to be taken by the government.”   The beaming sun pierces in your eyes too painfully and you look away. “...you know, Jung.”   “Yes?”   “I’m kind of impressed you managed to bring me here since I literally have nothing to do with your trial.” The only people that were here was Taehyung, Seokjin, Naul, and then the two of you. It’s miraculous that the lawyer snagged you, an HR manager, to be here with him.   Hoseok merely shrugs. “I may or may not have a way with words.”   “I’m starting to feel like your sugar baby.”   The man’s mouth pulls into a smirk. He winks and leans closer until your knees and shoulders are bumping each other’s. “How much would I have to pay to spend a night with you, sweetheart?”   “Double my salary and we’ll talk,” you whisper back to him in a low voice, starting to like the sound of this.   His arrogant act almost crumbles into a fit of laughter, but he manages to keep it up. “How about I make this trip all-inclusive and you get free meals and you can spend two days in a hotel suite with me?”   You’re the first to break, laughing and pushing him away before the bartender walks past and really thinks there’s some kind of wild arrangement going on. “How can the firm afford this many trips?”   “I’m loaded, y’know.” Hoseok is being overly flirtatious and greasy — maybe the heat’s getting to him. But you hate that it’s actually working and that he knows it too. “In my wallet and in my pants.”   “Oh my god.” You snort. “You’re ridiculous.”   “Does that make me more appealing to you?”   “Would you really want me to be a gold digger?”   “You could be whatever you want and I still wouldn’t mind.” Hoseok openly ogles at your lips and your face hurts from your widening grin.   “What happened to being professional?”   He moves away on his own accord, laughing and throwing his arm over the back of your chair, returning to sipping on his coconut through the straw. “We stopped being professional the moment we both agreed to this. The attempt is still nice though.”   Your brow is lifted and you quip, “Agree to what?”   “You being my girlfriend and me being your boyfriend.”   “Hold up, hold up. I never agreed to that,” you point out, bringing this conversation to a halt. “I agreed to us dating.”   “And isn’t dating being boyfriend and girlfriend.”   “You make it sound so juvenile, like we’re high schoolers.”   “We’re still young, babe.”   “Yeah?” You play into his greasy act, smiling and staring at him like you’re being seduced by a stranger at a bar in the middle of your vacation. But then you deadpan, “Tell that to your declining eyesight.”   “Hey.” Hoseok sulks. “My eyesight is still good. At least I’m not blind like Namjoon.”   “Didn’t you tell me your back was hurting last week?” You reach over, stealing a sip of his drink. It’s indeed strange to be having pineapple juice from a coconut, but it’s very refreshing and makes you feel rejuvenated.   “That was because you blew out my back.”   You nearly spit out your mouthful. It ends up sliding down your throat into the wrong pipe while you do a double take, and you end up in a wheezing and coughing fit. Hoseok’s entertained watching you die, ignoring the old couple a few seats away who was eavesdropping and are now mortified. When you manage to see the light again, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely containing yourself. “Why are you like this?!”   “Why do I like you so much?” Hoseok grins, spinning around in the bar stool like a child with too much sugar. “Good question, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re too cute, too pretty, and too fun to tease.”   You slump into a pout. “You’re mean.”   “I know.” Still, Hoseok leans over and plants a kiss right on your cheek.   //   The three others decided to go on a sightseeing tour, a package offered by the hotel at a discount. But you and Hoseok opted out. He simply brushed it off by saying he wanted to finish something up and you said you just weren’t feeling up to it. In reality, you both ended up walking by the beach instead, having a little date on your own. You felt guilty for lying to them, but Hoseok made it all worth it.   “Hey.” He smiles, approaching them in the lobby, running into the group by coincidence. “How was it?”   “A lot of fun!” Taehyung already appears tanner, skin radiating with a healthy glow. “I got this hat, like it?”   “It’s nice.” You nod, admiring the round straw hat.   “Glad you got out and saw some sun too, Jung,” Naul notes in approval. “We thought you’d be cooped up all day working.”   “Nah. Y/N and I went to grab some of those fruity drinks the front desk were raving about earlier,” he stretches the truth without batting an eyelash. “It was pretty good. You guys should try some. And I finished all my work earlier, so I’m free for the rest of the day.”   “Are you guys doing anything now?” you ask them. “Do you want to eat somewhere later?”   “Actually…” Jin clears his throat, arms behind his back and revealing what he’s been hiding. They’re two slips that look like movie tickets, but they’re bright blue like the ocean. The paralegal tries to play it off nonchalantly as he sweeps his fingers through his hair. “I might've won two vouchers for a spa day earlier.”   Taehyung laughs and lifts his hands straight into the air, extending his arms above his head. “And he’s taking me! We also won tickets to watch a show tonight too!”   Hoseok’s impressed and he takes a look at the tickets. “Wow. You guys are lucky, huh?”   “Sorry.” Taehyung leans on him, smushed cheek on his shoulder and grinning mischievously. “Jin already promised to take me, boss. You can come too, but you’ll have to pay yourself.”   “It’s okay.” He hands them back.   “I’m going to my hotel room to rest,” Naul says, telling them about her plans. “I’m exhausted.”   “She fell asleep on the bus.” Jin hitches his thumb to the woman, appallment evident in his low timbre. “Didn’t enjoy the last half of the journey.”   “I’m old, I know.” She pats him on the back. “You don’t have to keep saying it.”   You nod. “Looks like you all have plans then.”   “Yup.” Taehyung shifts slightly, brown irises shining in his rounded eyes. “Did you want to do something with us?”   “No, it’s okay. We always have tomorrow morning. Hoseok and I might head out again after freshening up and using the washroom. There’s still a lot to see, so don’t worry about us and enjoy your spa trip.”   “Sounds like a plan.” Jin smiles. “Our appointment is starting soon.”   “Same with mine.” Naul already has her hotel card in her hand, envisioning the bubble bath and raiding the minibar for a nice drink. In the meanwhile, no one notices the way you exchange expressions with Hoseok. You’re satisfied either way as long as you’re with him.   //   The diner is small with few patronages. The fryer is heard sizzling from the kitchen, bell chiming every time the front door opens, and an old lady serves you with a smile, yelling at the cooks from where she stands. It’s a cozy atmosphere, a place you would imagine existing in a smaller town.   “Did Sunyi and Yoongi end up signing that form?” Hoseok cuts into his strawberry waffles with his knife, piercing it with his utensil and dipping it in the sweet syrup.   “They signed it.” You slice your own fluffy pancakes, holding it out and he eats it off your fork. “But apparently it’s complicated and they’re in the process of figuring it out.”   He hums, brows raising and sending an approval look at the taste. “I’m shocked that they’re...together.”   “You can never be as shocked as I am,” you snicker and he cuts his waffles again, feeding you. You stuff it in your cheek, sweetness exploding on your tongue, voice muffled as you chew, “but Sunyi complained about Yoongi every single day. I would’ve never guessed they were involved with each other like that.”   He agrees, exasperated at the thought. “And for two years?”   “Shh…” You giggle, ducking your head. “Keep your voice down.”   The corner of his lip tugs. “No one’s here.”   “Okay, yeah, but Yoongi never exposed us so we shouldn’t expose him either. Ah.” You open your mouth, twirling your fork in front of his own, this time feeding him and returning the favour.   Eventually, you’re both walking outside again. The breeze is cool, kissing against your warm cheeks, carding through the strands of his black hair. You’re both holding hands, fingers laced together, arms swinging back and forth, and making you laugh. “Do you think they’re a good match?” you ask in curiosity. “You’ve known them for so long...”   “To be frank...I do. Yoongi’s similar to me, but he’s only passionate about selective things. I haven’t seen him so happy to tease someone before in my life. They’re cute together,” Hoseok muses.   “And what about us?” You glance at him, blatantly fishing for compliments and being shameless about it. “Do you think we’re cute together?”   “We’re the cutest obviously because you’re the cutest.” He boops your nose, making a high-pitched sound and you giggle, shoulders tense and cringing at his gestures. But much to your dismay, Hoseok adds on, “also, I’m the cutest.” He puckers his lips, quirking his head to the side.   “Uh-huh. So cute it’s nauseating.”   The fountain show begins and you momentarily stop to watch. The water spritz up into waving streams, glittering with the multicoloured lights flashing from below. It creates a mist in the air, following with the rhythm of the music playing from the stereo. There are children gathered around with their parents, big eyes amazed at the show, friends and other couples around too.   “Are you cold?”   “Only a little bit,” you murmur.   Jung Hoseok gets closer to you. He bends his knees until his head is propped on your shoulder, arms coming to wrap around your frame before clasping his hands together. The man leans against you, giving you a side-hug, affectionate in his movements and you melt into his body heat. It’s comforting and calming, the same words you would use to describe his existence to you.   “Are you ever bothered by it?”   “By what?” he asks, matching your tender tone. You don’t notice that instead of looking at the water show, he’s staring at you softly. Your features are illuminated by the faint lights and it’s so pretty, Hoseok can’t keep his eyes away.   “That you don’t remember?”   “No...not anymore. Why? Are you bothered?”   “No. I’d be more bothered if you were bothered.”   He grins, slight dimples marking into each cheek. “Sometimes I feel guilty that I don’t remember, but then I look over and you’re here. We have the rest of our future together, right?”   A slight noncommittal noise is made in the back of your throat, and you finally look at him, smiling. It sounds exactly like something he would say. “To be honest, it doesn’t feel all that different. You’re not that different from how you used to be.”   “And how was I?” he asks while you walk away from the ice-cream parlor, mind still lingering on the topic. Hoseok’s eyes are pinned on your mouth and he motions for you to open. When you part your lips, he feeds you a spoonful of his chocolate ice-cream.   “Bright, energetic, outgoing…..annoyingly obnoxious.”   “Me?!” He gasps, wholly offended. “Annoyingly obnoxious?!”   You laugh, holding your hand out to placate him. The man is still not satisfied until he leans down and chops on part of your vanilla ice-cream cone. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”   “You’re beginning to sound like my sister.” Hoseok pouts, eating his own cold treat in his cup, scooping it up and eating with his mouth cutely downturned. “Are you talking to her these days?”   “No. I should though. How is she?”   “Fine. As usual. I don’t know what she’s doing these days aside from causing trouble. But speaking of which, I think my parents want you to visit soon. They keep asking me about you.”   “Have they found out about us?”   “No. They haven’t.”   Your shoulder bumps into his and you smile. “Then...should we tell them?”   Hoseok matches your smile, eyes slightly crinkled. “If you want to.”   After discarding the cup, spoon, and napkins, you both wash your hands. When you leave, he’s waiting outside the washroom for you, staring up at the night sky. But when you appear in his peripheral vision again, he eases and his warm eyes are all too inviting.   “We should tell them,” you decide. “It’s not good to keep your parents in the dark. I’m sure they would be happy anyways.”   “Okay.” He grins. “I’m just worried they’re going to cast me aside for you again.”   “Well it’s understandable. They’ve always loved me. Don’t you know how charming I am?”   Laughter bubbles from his throat. He never once disagrees and reaches down to hold your hand again, walking off with no destination in mind. “How does the weekend sound or is that too soon?”   “I’m fine either way. I miss Mickey too.” You turn your head, hesitating for a mere second before you decide to tell him, “you know...he used to be our dog.”   “What? Really?”   “Yeah, but we gave him to your parents before we moved and you went to law school.”   It’s quiet for a moment, Hoseok deep in thought. You wonder if it was a mistake bringing up the past that he doesn’t remember, if somehow he’ll end up feeling guilty for forgetting again even if it’s not his fault. But then— “Maybe we should take him back.”   “No.” You smile, poking his shoulder. “I’d feel bad for your parents. We can’t just take him back. Plus, he seems pretty happy living with them.”   “That’s true. But it’s no wonder he ran and jumped on top of you.”   You nod, looking over the horizon. The dim light of the stars appear ever so slightly, all spilling across the black sky if you stare for long enough and allow your eyes to adjust. Beside you, Hoseok slows down his pace, admiring them as well. “I think we should visit my mom too. She might not say it, but I know she’s been lonely these days.”   “Should we invite her to come with us this weekend then?” he suggests. “Didn’t you say my mom and your mom were friends?”   “Yeah…” You smile, happy that he remembers and is considerate enough to come up with the idea. “She’d like that.”   The pair of you continue on your stroll until he comes to a stop. Hoseok squats down on the side of the road and then he picks up a flower and jumps back up again. He holds the small daisy up. “Look! It’s me!”   You’re not impressed. “It’s you?”   “It’s me! See?” he happily announces, showing it to you. The delicate flower has white petals, and a bright yellow center that reminds you of the colour of the sun. It’s cute and you melt into a sheepish smile, about to agree just to placate him. But then Hoseok’s eyes flicker up and he gently tucks the flower behind your ear, right by your hair. “Wow...now there are two flowers side by side.”   “Oh my god,” you groan, pulling away and cringing while he laughs boisterously, quickening his pace to catch up to you.   “Why? Am I wrong?”   “You’re too cheesy. It’s giving me cavities.”   “But you like it!”   “Be thankful I like you because I wouldn’t be able to do this for anyone else.”   “What do you mean?”   Yet, as dumb and cute as Hoseok likes to act, you hate that he’s right. He could probably beg you to shave your head (and not like you would give in since you’re not a spineless idiot), but he’d get away with it. He could throw you into a flash mob right now, make you dance, and at the end of the day, you’d still be with this fool.   And that’s why you’re watching him fiddle with this baby blue bike that he’s just rented, like watching a two-year old about to cause chaos and doing nothing to stop it. It’s just too endearing to watch him this excited and upbeat. “C’mon, get on, Y/N!”   You look at the tiny rear passenger seat, sighing before getting on. “Do you even know how to ride a bike?”   “Course, I do! Learnt when I was five,” he boasts like it’s so impressive, having no clue just how hard it was going to be to pedal when there are two people on.   But Jung Hoseok manages. It feels like you’re in your youth again, jumping on the bike of some neighborhood boy and being taken for a ride. It’s like you’ve returned back to high school, a period before you even knew of his existence, when you were still young and naive and you didn’t know what you wanted to do. A part of you wishes you met him during that time.   The two of you probably would’ve never been high school sweethearts though. You did your own thing back then and he would’ve been that outgoing kid that was all too noisy — the biggest interaction you both would’ve had is you sending a glare across the room.   You quietly laugh at the thought of it.   “Y/N, let’s play a game.”   You hear him above the cool breeze whipping through your hair. Your arms are wrapped around his waist, head pressed against his firm backside, but you lift yourself up to make sure he hears your response. “If your game is leaving me on the side of the road, I’m going to push you off the bike right now to save myself.”   A soothing laugh tinkers into the crisp air. “No, why would I do that?” Hoseok inhales a breath. It’s an empty bike path, no one ahead or behind you at this time of night. The wide ocean is to your left, waters black but illuminated by city lights and reflecting the tall buildings and cityline. “Let’s play a game. Let’s pretend…..this is twelve years ago. But the difference is that I never left you and I never got into that accident.”   “Twelve years ago….?”   “Ready? Let’s start.” He slows his pedaling, sitting tall while your hands are still holding onto his waist, eyes pinned to the magnificent view. “We were in the same class together twelve years ago. How old were we again?”   “Twenty-one.”   “Wow, we’re old now, aren’t we?”   “You’re the old one, not me.” The corners of your lips raise meekly, shoulders slightly loosening from their tension.   “It was a finance class, right? You sat next to me?”   “We sat next to each other every day.”   “Then how was your first impression of me?” he asks with a tinkering laugh, sounding all too joyful and curious, mixing with the clinking sound of the metal chains when he stops pedaling and uses the built momentum to push you both forward.   “To be honest….I didn’t think anything of you.”   “What?! Was it not love at first sight?”   “No,” you manage through a fit of giggles. “You were just another face in the class of three hundred.”   “Unbelievable. Because I know for a fact that I would’ve taken one look at you and fallen head over heels.”   “Oh, yeah right!” You hit his shoulder lightly and the bike teeters from side to side, causing more giggles to ensue.   “I would!” Hoseok defends. “I would’ve taken one glance at you and I would be breathless. My entire world would stop. It was probably the most romantic thing in the universe, just like all the movies. We’d beat Romeo and Juliet.” Hoseok continues with a grin, listening to your laugh behind him, “And here on your side, you thought nothing of me! I’m offended!”   “You’re so full of shit!”   The lawyer lets out half a scoff and the other half is a laugh. You’re scared he might stop steering and you’ll both fall over, so you hug him tighter, listening to the sound of his melodic voice. You savour his warmth, his smooth timbre, lulled by the lights sparkling from the shops, a mosaic of hues fading together like watercolour paints. “Who was the one who spoke first?”   “You did.”   “See? If I was the one who talked to you first, then it means I was probably already in love!”   “I think you asked me for the previous class’ notes cause you missed it.”   “It was a tactic, a tactic!” he tries to convince you.   Eventually, the two of you get off the bike and he walks it beside him, enjoying the stroll even if you’re a bit lost and not sure where the hotel is anymore. There’s still a slight bustle on the other side of the street, a few on the shore and enjoying games. It’s an atmosphere worthy to get lost in.   “—and after I bailed on meeting you at the library, you sent me a huge angry text message. I had to scroll through the entire thing, that’s how long it was. I was so scared.”   You continue to recall the memories, one after another spilling from your lips, pouring all out without restraint. And Hoseok listens, providing his own commentary and thoughts, humming along. “It’s part of the push and pull tactic. You gotta show them your cold side and then your warm side. Jimin taught me.”   “You didn’t even know Jimin then!” Your cheeks ache, lips upturned and unable to be put down.   “He sent me a telepathic message from the future,” he says to you so confidently.   You tell him about the time you ran into him at the library, the time you didn’t end up meeting him to work on the project, the time he held your hand and you were so surprised that you thought it was an accident, the first date, the first time he kissed you. You end up recalling each and every one of these memories — memories that you thought were a burden….but they aren’t.   They feel like fun stories, tales that you remember were never sad in the moment until you made them that way. You recount each of them to him, some fuzzier than others and when you can’t recall the details, he fills in the blanks with his own silly thoughts, like how he wasn’t mad at you or that he probably wanted to kiss you a hundred times more.   You talk about history and he talks about the future.   “And then when we were twenty-five…” An inhale is stolen through your lungs and when you look at him, he already knows and squeezes your hands comfortingly.   “That was the year we got engaged with each other.” He leans in with a soft smile, affectionately brushing his forehead against yours before pulling away. “Thankfully, it was just a pregnancy scare because I’m sure neither of us were ready for kids yet.”   You snicker, agreeing. “Yeah.”   “You were pretty stressed about planning the wedding and I was too, but it got a lot better when we handed it off to both our moms who took a hold of it,” Hoseok’s ranting and you listen to every syllable of his story, believing this fantasy as reality. His side of the story that you never knew, he fills in with whatever he wishes. The gray areas become coloured, no longer a mystery held over your own head. “Of course, they would’ve taken too much control, but we were able to pick out the little things, like the colour schemes and the kinds of flowers we wanted.”   “Daisies.”   “A bunch of me’s.”   A rush of air comes out of your nose, too tired to laugh, but finding it still funny. “Yellow and violet colour scheme.”   “I like that,” he notes in approval before moving on. “And then when we finally got married, it would be such a relief that it was all over. Not that you were turning into bridezilla or anything….but you were kind of turning into bridezilla.”   “Well, of course, I want our wedding to be perfect.”   “I’m just happy that we’re getting married.” Suddenly, he stops. Hoseok halts his footsteps and turns you to face him. He swallows hard, eyes locked into your irises before flickering down to your mouth. He leans down and in, tilting his head timidly and planting a kiss on your lips. It’s soft and hesitant, feather-light. It’s as if you were standing at the aisle, under the arch with people watching, sealing the union and promise of forever with a kiss.   When he pulls away, a smile is on his face, watching as your eyes flutter open so slightly and you stare up at him through your lashes. You’re so beautiful, he feels an urge to kiss you again.   But Hoseok represses it, pulling you along, walking and listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore. “Our honeymoon was a nightmare.”   “How so?” Something blooms in your chest, butterflies tickling your stomach and you curl your fingers around his tighter, feeling him squeeze back in response.   “We got stuck at the airport overnight because our flight got delayed, but thank god we made it.”   “And where were we?”   Hoseok sings a low note, considering all the places in the world before settling on one destination as he returns the rental bike. “Somewhere in French Polynesia.”’   “Fancy.”   “You deserve the best.” He flashes a grin and a wink. “We’d spend a lot of time by the beach.”   “Like right now?”   “Like right now,” he confirms. “We’d take a helicopter ride around the island and go to a vanilla bean farm and pick fresh vanilla beans for my dad and your mom. You’d probably tell me I’m picking up too many seashells after it takes up three quarters of our luggage. But also, let’s be honest here, we wouldn’t leave our little, private overwater bungalow that often.”   The mischief twinkling in his orbs only makes you give him a knowing look. “Why not?”   “Well, until we break the bed and we have to call the front desk, I’m not sure I would ever want you to leave.”   You expected nothing less from the man but the thought of getting maintenance and having to switch rooms because of a broken mattress makes you slightly embarrassed. While strolling together, you lean against him. Jung Hoseok is detailed, carefully describing year after year, filling in the missing time of your lives. And it sounds all too nice.   “—even though Jung and Park would’ve been running for three years, Jimin wouldn’t mind us taking time off together.”   “Are you sure he can handle running the office without his partner and without his HR rep?”   “He can handle it and if anything, you could hire a few more people before we take the break. Didn’t you say you wanted to run an entire HR empire and be their ruler?”   “I never said that.” You scoff, lightly smacking his chest. “I only wanted an assistant.”   “Sure, have your little, hot, young assistant.” The way he jokingly emphasizes each word makes it sound sexual and you don’t know if you want to smack him again or if you want to laugh. “But let me tell you, I won’t be jealous.”   “Why? Wouldn’t you have gotten bored of me and found me stale after being married for so long?”   “Course not!” Hoseok jumps up, blinking his big eyes, and being playful all at once. “I’m just saying I wouldn’t be threatened since you’re mine. And I’d never be bored of us. Every time I’d look at you, I’d be blown away.”   “That sounds exhausting,” you consider it realistically. “You’d be blown away constantly.”   He laughs. “But you being pregnant would make me even more blown away!”   “Wait. How many kids are you even planning? We still haven’t had this talk and we already have a kid on the way! And we’re still paying mortgage on the new house! Shouldn’t we be more responsible?”   “Okay, okay. Five.”   “Five?! Are you out of your mind?!” You’re almost screeching, for once being as loud as he naturally is. “You’re going to have to put insurance on my uterus!”   Hoseok grins, hugging your side again. “How many kids do you want?”   “Three. Or actually two seems like a good number.”   “One girl, one boy?”   “If it’s possible.” You nod, finding it the right number for a picture perfect family.   “How about three girls?” Hoseok muses.   “You don’t want any boys?”   “I’d like it if they were like you,” he says. “Three little angels with mommy’s personality and daddy’s beautiful looks. What do you think?”   Even if you’re joking around, you send an accusatory expression his way. “You wouldn’t want them to look like me?”   “Well, if they’re too much like you, my heart might just explode with love. But I’d love them regardless, so looks like I’m getting a heart attack either way.” He dramatically shuts his eyes, placing a hand over his chest like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest.   You keep walking ahead, mumbling about how ridiculous he is, but your smile is unmistakable.   At the end of the lovely night, you both manage to make your way back to the hotel, tired and sleepy. Neither Taehyung, Naul, or Seokjin are around to notice how you sneak into Hoseok’s room. It feels like you’re breaking the rules or back when you sneak into each other’s houses during spring break without either of your parents knowing.   You slip off your shoes, exhausted after spending the entire day outside, and you collapse on the plush bed side-by-side with Hoseok as he finishes writing up the future. “—and then at one hundred years old, we would die together, just like this.”   “Like this?” You turn and he does too, both facing each other in the peacefulness of the room.   “Together. Peacefully sleeping in bed….or like that old couple in the titanic.”   You prop yourself up onto one elbow, eyeing him. “Isn’t this too morbid?”   “Is it?” The corner of his mouth lifts and spreads into a grin. Hoseok opens his arms and rolls right on top of you. You’re stuck in your spot and he laughs, tickling your sides slightly until you wheeze and beg for mercy. Then he calms down, nuzzling against you like some kind of cuddle bug. “I mean, we’d be reborn and we could do it all over again.”   “Are you sure you want to spend lifetime after lifetime with me?” You stare into his eyes, murmuring from your slightly parted lips, caught off guard with what a hopeless romantic he is.   The man lifts his arms and holds your cheek in his palms, legs on either side of you. He leans down, pecking your lips once gently, finding no need to deepen the kiss and seek something different. “It would be my absolute pleasure, Y/N.”   You melt into a sheepish smile and after another extended moment of silence, of feeling his body pressed against yours, his scent surrounding your frame, you muse, “It sounds nice.”   “Which part?”   “All of it.”   “I’m glad.” Hoseok finally lays down, slightly crushing you, but he places his ear over chest, right where your heartbeat is. He shuts his eyes and listens. “It’s my goal to make you happy.”   You wrap your arms around his head, holding him close, becoming more and more sleepy. “I’m very happy, Jung Hoseok.”   And you mean it. You’re happy that he’s here. Happy that he’s in your life again. Happy that you’re both slowly, but surely going to make all these dreams and fantasies into reality.  

[the-sweetest-dragon]

A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - No Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery -

Fandom: It

Characters: Ben, Eddie, Richie, Bev, Bill, Stan, Mike

Word Count: 1613

Ships: Eventual Benverly, Reddie, Stan x Patty

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN: Hi!  This is the seventh chapter of this series, so I have done a chapter for each loser!  I’m at a bit of an impasse on which one to write for next and would love to know who’s story you’re most interested in seeing next!  I have big plans for everyone of course, but knowing who you’d like to hear about would allow me to set those plans in motion.  Thank you to everyone who has been reading! <3

Tags: @nerdsarebetter @audder17 @just-another-shipper-01 @sapphic-bottlexap

Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six  

_________________________________________

Chapter Seven

Ben Hanscom is a good person.  An exceedingly good person, in fact.  He had grown into himself a lot the last few years, had finally figured out what worked for him and stuck to it.  Ben was no longer that chubby middle schooler that Bower’s liked to terrorize. Ben had started working out to help lose some more of the baby fat that stuck around far too long.  He was looking, and feeling, good for once.  And the one person he wanted to notice these changes, never seemed to look at him long enough to see them.  Until now.

Ben fixed his hair in the bathroom mirror for the third time that evening.  He wanted it to look just right for her.  Bev was always well put together in public, every hair in place.  It wasn’t that way when she was alone with the Losers, where she was crazy creative and downright wild.  It had taken a few weeks for her to return to that wildness after the breakup, but she was recovering quickly, something that made Ben’s heart soar with happiness. 

He’s brought out of his thoughts by a banging on the bathroom door.  Ben sighs and walks out of the bathroom.

“Sorry Benny.  Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen in,” his mother says with a soft smile.  Ms. Hanscom was a little odd, but Ben rarely worried about it.  She loved him and that’s what mattered to Ben.  He smiles back at her.  “Ready for your date tonight?  You’ve got the flowers and everything?”

“Yeah, picked them up this afternoon at Stan’s shop.  He recommended daffodils, said those were her favorite.”  Stan also said that Bill had never once given Bev flowers, which had made Ben both sad and happy, a conundrum he wasn’t sure how to solve.  Sad because she deserved to be given flowers at any given chance, and happy because he would be the first to give her any.   Ben grabs the wrapped bouquet from the kitchen table and heads out the door, keys to his mother’s car in hand.  

“Alright, well you tell her hi from me ok?  And take care of my car!” she yells after him.  Ben walks backwards out the door, waving to his mom before he leaves.  

Once outside and in the car, Ben takes a few moments to compose himself.  He had been nervous the whole day, worrying over what to wear and what to say until his mom reminded him that this was Bev.  Ben closes his eyes and takes several deep breaths, then turns the car on.  He puts it in reverse and pulls out of his driveway, the radio playing softly in the background.  

The drive to Bev’s aunt's house is short, which helps keep his nerves from fraying.  As he pulls into the driveway he spots Bev sitting outside, her bright red hair softly shining in the late afternoon light.  She’s smiling and sketching in her notebook when she notices Ben’s there.  He watches her stand and wave at him, before disappearing into the house.  Ben waits with bated breath, focusing on the chalk art in the driveway instead of his quickly fraying nerves. 

When she comes back out a few moments later, Ben is stunned at how amazing she looks.  Of course he always thinks she looks amazing, but this felt different.  She had dressed up for him, because they were going on a date, something he had dreamed about since he moved to Derry in middle school.  Bev had pulled her hair into a bun on the top of her head, with small pieces of hair falling around her face.  The light caught the tendrils of hair and made them shine like a halo around her.  

She reached the door of the car and gave a slight pull, frowning when it didn’t open.  Ben scrambled to open the passenger door, smiling apologetically.  Bev throws herself in, bouncing slightly in her seat.  Ben felt his palms grow damp with nerves.  This wasn’t the first time they had been in a car together, but it was certainly the first time they had been alone in a car together.  Bev turned to him and smiled.  

“So, what’s the plan New Kid?  We just gonna sit here in my driveway or what?” she asks.  Ben bites his lip and smiles.  Before divulging the plan, he reaches behind her to retrieve the flowers from the backseat and hands them to her.  Her eyes go wide and glossy, as if she’s trying not to cry.  Ben panics slightly.

“I’m sorry!  I thought they would be a good idea but obviously I was mistaken.  You don’t have-”  Bev cuts him off with a soft laugh.

“I’m not upset Ben.  This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”  She smiles and takes the flowers from him, her green eyes sparkling.  Ben breathes a sigh of relief.  Bev straps herself in, balancing the flowers between her knees.  “Where are we going?”

Ben, being a hopeless romantic, had planned a very nice dinner in an Italian restaurant one town over.  He had read that it was the most romantic spot in town and that was the atmosphere he wanted to create.  Ben didn’t expect Bev to immediately fall in love with him, but he desperately wanted her to at least agree to another date.  And the way to get another date is to make the first one as good as possible.  

“We are going to a restaurant.”  Ben smiles and starts to drive.  “You look amazing by the way.  Did you make it?”  Bev made a lot of her own clothes, something that Ben thought was incredible.  He couldn’t imagine how difficult that must be.  

“I did actually, yeah.”  Bev smiled and smoothed out the skirt of her dress.  The deep green sundress was lovely and detailed sunflowers were embroidered on the hem.  “Took me about three days to get everything to look right.  I don’t think I hemmed it short enough though.”  Ben choked a little, but turned it into a cough.  Bev glances over with a sly smile on her face.  

“Not short enough?  Is that even a thing?” he tried to joke.  Bev laughed, loud and happily.  It was like music to Ben’s ears.

Ever since the breakup Bev had felt far away.  Something had changed and Ben couldn’t figure out what it was.  He thought that she had just been sad, but it wasn’t just sadness over a breakup.  Something had happened between them that could never be repaired, but Ben knew better than to dig into things that were better left uncovered.  

They drove peacefully for awhile, conversation flowing easily.  Both are very excited to be done with high school and move on to other things, though Bev confided that she wasn’t sure she’d be going to college.  

“What would you want to do then?  College isn’t for everyone you know.  Lots of people have very successful lives without going to college,” he says when they pull into the parking lot of the restaurant.  A poignant pause is the response he gets, and Ben looks over to see silent tears streaming down Bev’s face.  He unbuckles himself and leans over the console to take one of her hands.  “What’s the matter Bev?  Did I say something wrong?  I didn’t mean-”  

Bev once again cuts him off, but this time with her lips crashing into his.  Shocked at first, Ben isn’t sure what to do, but then he relaxes and kisses her back.  They stay like that for a few moments, lips pressed together and Ben lets himself enjoy the moment.  However, the moment Ben’s moves his hand to hold her face, Bev backs away.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” she says quickly.  Ben shakes his head, but she doesn’t stop talking.  “That came out of nowhere I’m so sorry.”  She dabs at her face and eyes, trying to rid herself of the lingering tears.  Ben waits patiently, knowing that she’ll open up when she’s ready.  Bev takes a deep breath, steadying herself before speaking.  

“Everyday I get told that I should go to college, that it’s the only way to be successful in life.  I get pushed into going on tours of colleges I don’t care about and know that I don’t have the grades to get into.”  Ben nods; out of all the Losers, Bev had the worst report card.  It’s not that she isn’t smart, but that the school doesn’t teach her anything worthwhile for her to learn.  

“Lots of older people don’t understand that college doesn’t necessarily help you get a job anymore.  Sure, it can help you gain knowledge but lots of careers don’t require that kind of knowledge.”  Ben smiles softly at Bev, hoping that his words have helped at all.  “And I think that whatever you do, you’ll be amazing at.  College education or not.”  Bev smiles, nodding along with his words.

“Thank you Ben.  I needed that.”  She pauses a minute, her eyebrows scrunching together slightly.  “I’m sorry for kissing you.  That probably came out of left field.”

“Don’t apologize.  I’ve been thinking about kissing you since eighth grade when-”  This time, Ben stops himself realizing that he’s said too much.  Bev’s eyebrows are in her hair, they’re raised so high.  Her eyes have widened to the size of saucers and Ben mentally scolds himself for being so dumb.  “I’m sorry!  I’ve said too much!”  Bev’s look of surprise turns into a sly look that reminded Ben of a cat who had caught a canary.  He was in for it now. 

“Since eighth grade huh?”

[pizzabookbuying]

10 comfort movies & wildcard

I got tagged by @natsugia and honestly feel so attacked rn because apparently I’m incapable of summoning any works of fiction to mind that aren’t episodes of Gilmore girls here’s my very very labored attempt I guess (these probably aren’t in any specific order except in which they came to mind) I should probably say spoilers because I don’t know when to stop talking

1. Twilight? The first one? Maybe?

I was very late to the twilight hype and only started reading/watching the series a few years ago. HOWEVER dear lord the movies are so bad they’re good. The amount of times I’ll be talking to someone and have to fight the urge to not quote these movies are rediculous. I meAn come oN “hold on tight spider monkey” ?!! “SAY IT” “...a vAmpire” iconic. Truly iconic. I’ve definitely seen the first one the most and I like the tone the best, it’s got weird vibes and I like it. But also the shot spinning around Bella while she’s being emo because Edward left? Yes please. (Breaking Dawn part 2 is also hilarious, Dakota fanning yeeting a baby into the fire? Aro and his horrid laugh? “You nicknamed my baby after the Loch Ness monster?!!!”)

2. Zombieland

It’s a family favorite, what can I say. If I’m watching TV and it comes on I am legally obligated to finish the movie.

3. Princess Bride

Another movie I grew up watching and have yet to get tired of. It also doesnt help that sophomore year of high school I read the book and it just pulled me deeper into its thralls. It’s the perfect movie to put on when you’re sick so you can pretend you’re the kid whose brother was in boy meets world. (Also, it’s very very quotable)

4. The Hunger Games Series, particularly Catching Fire

This series is one of the very few exceptions to rule of “I don’t tend to watch things when they first come out because reasons” It was all aboard the hype train for me. And I loved every second. The second movie really feels like the pinnacle of the series to me, though. The first film’s costuming and art design feels a little tacky at times (looking at you weird training garb) but the second film mmm so good. The mockingjays had some weird tonal shifts and were missing the great costuming of the first two (it works from a story standpoint but still) Plus, it means the ensemble cast is at its best, the introduction of some truly spectacular characters and most of the main cast doesn’t die this time! Plus plus I just really really love the party scene at snow’s house. Ooh and the training part with peeta’s painting and Katniss’s doll lol.

5. Scooby Doo Spooky Island & Scooby Doo Monsters Unleashed

Listen. It’s a weird pick. I know it is. BUT I cannot emphasize how much I loved Scooby Doo growing up. I had the box sets for the original series and what’s new scooby doo. I loved it. So watching the movies just gives me the warm gooeys inside. They’re just so delightfully rediculous.

6. Pretty in Pink

Duckie. My boy deserved better.

7. Pride and Prejudice

I’m basic and love hands.

8. Pretty much any period drama tbh

Anna Karenina? Yep. Although, the feels may be too strong.

The duchess? Not as good but acceptable.

Marie Antoinette? Slightly questionable in historic accuracy but damn if those aesthetics don’t do it for you. It’s a very pretty movie.

9. Made of Honor

Is it an objectively good movie? No. It’s rather questionable at times and doesn’t have a great theme. But, it’s a mom movie. I sit down, I snuggle in, and it’s like im watching it for the first time as a middle schooler wedges between my mom and a bowl of popcorn. It’s something I can watch and feel annoyingly comforted by. (Plus it’s Derek! And Owen! Even though I hate Owen, he’s very nice here!)

10. To All the Boys I’ve loved before. I guess.

The movie has similar yet very different vibes to Gilmore girls. It has that sense of safeness and comfort that shots of the town gazebo have. It’s also based off a great book series. Although my view of the movies has been seriously damaged by the second movie (my ship was ruined! Ruined I say!) I’ve still watched the first about a thousand times. (And when I say the second movie was bad let me just explain two things, my favorite character got all of 10 minutes of screen time, was used as a plot device, and the director seemed to find it necessary to include a scene of the main character gliding down the hallway lip sincing to a very emo song while also making direct eye contact with the camera. I was horrified.)

So Wildcard. I don’t really know how wild I’m allowed to get here, mostly because I scroll through about #2 on other peoples lists and get bored and yeet out. But, idk maybe atonement? That perhaps doesn’t seem wild but it’s one of my favorite movies and yet I haven’t seen the entirety of it. I’ve seen clips, read the wiki, and cried because NO. It also includes James McAvoy and I’m just now realizing I didnt even mention the X-men movies, which I love. Whatever. This whole list has been a wildcard.

Time to Tag!! Except I have this paralysing fear of rejection so instead I’m just gonna say if you’ve somehow made it through that horrid list YAY you just got tagged! Unless, of course, you don’t want to, in which case, I’m not tagging you and you don’t have to feel weird about not continuing the chain. If you do end up doing this because I somehow inspired your list making feel free to mention me so I can scroll down to your #2 and get bored. I’ll still heart it though, I promise!