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hoomandoescosplay · 2 months

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Offline | Velvette x Reader Oneshot

“I have snacks.” I cheer as I open Velvette’s bedroom door. I readjust my grip on all of the snacks in my arms, looking towards her. “Oh hell yeah.” Velvette says, her phone in hand. “Come in, I’ll make room for ya.”

I quickly take a seat next to her on her bed before releasing everything from my arms. All the snacks pile up on top of us as I grin at her. Velvette laughs as the snacks all pile up on them. “Damn, did you bring the whole snack selection or something?”

As she starts looking through them I snatch her phone from her. “We can’t have a good girls night without an overload of snacks, love.” I snicker. “And you’re offline for the rest of the night. No more phone.”

“Oh come on..” She says with a huff, crossing her arms. “I was texting Vox..” I roll my eyes at her. “Vox can survive a few hours without you. And if he can’t then he can go find Val and suck his dick or something.” I pocket her phone in the back of my jeans before grabbing a random snack.

“We haven’t had a girls night in forever Vel. You won’t even realize how long you’ve been without your phone.” Velvette dramatically lays back and groans. “Ugh, fine..” She says, rolling her eyes. “But I’m only doing this because I love you. You know that, right?”

My face heats up slightly making me silently curse. “I love you too.” I respond quickly before grabbing another snack and throwing it at her. “What’s the plan for tonight anyway?”

After Velvette sits back up, she crosses her legs. “I was thinking we could raid my closet and try on outfits. Watch some dumb romance movies, gossip.. normal girls night type stuff y’know?”

“I’m so down for that.” I open the chip bag I’m holding and start to eat them. “After I eat these though.” Velvette chuckles. “Alright, we’ll do outfit raiding after you’re done stuffing yourself with chips, you gremlin.”

“You’re too kind to me.” I say as I laugh at the nickname. “Damn right I am. I’m such a saint, I honestly deserve a reward for putting up with your snacking habits.” She says sarcastically.

I gasp dramatically. “I snack a normal amount, thank you very much.” I then place another chip in my mouth. “You snack more than me, which is a sin honestly.” She jokes, also grabbing a chip and eating it.

“Hey there are worse sins than gluttony.” I shrug as I tilt the chip bag in her direction. “Mm.. you have a point. I guess I’ll let it slide this time. Just for you.” She grabs a few more chips before grabbing the chip bag out of my hand and putting it on her bed side table. “Okay, snack break over. Time to raid my closet.”

“Alright alright. Let’s play dress up.” I laugh as I stand up from her bed. “Perfect.” Velvette says, standing up as well. “You know the drill, pick out whatever you want. I want to see you in something absolutely fierce. Like, something that will make others look at you and say, ‘holy hell, that girl is hot’.”

I give her a small salute as she pulls me into her enormous walk-in closet. “Yes ma’am.” “You know where everything is so feel free to dig through whatever you want. I have a few ideas for outfits I want you to try on, so I’ll also be picking out stuff here and there.”

Velvette starts digging through the dresses in her closet, already finding a few she wants to see me in. I can’t help but glance at her every so often as I start to look for outfits as well.

She occasionally glances over at me every so often as well making me smile. I can see she already has a few outfits she wants to have me try, and each one just gets… more revealing.

As I continue to look I feel her phone buzz in my pocket. I let out a small sigh as I pull it out and see that Vox is calling. I glance towards her one more time before answering it. “Velvette is busy but I can totally take a message.” I say innocently.

Velvette’s eyes widened when I answered her phone, immediately realizing what was going on. “(Y/N).” On the other line, Vox was confused upon hearing the unfamiliar voice respond. He paused for a moment before responding. “Uh.. who is this?”

“Aww boo does she not talk about me?” I whine playfully. “She talks about you and Val a lot. Guess she doesn’t love me.” I sigh dramatically. Vox chuckled. “Oh, I think I know who you are. You’re (Y/N), right?” Velvette was about to snatch her phone back from me when he said that, making her pause.

“Ding ding ding. Look at that, the TV is pretty smart.” I continue to tease as Velvette and I circle each other. Vox laughs a bit more. “What are you doing answering her phone, anyway?”

Velvette was getting annoyed now, and starting to reach for her phone again. I dodge her attempts, continuing to talk to Vox. “I told her she’s offline for the night.”

Vox snorts on the other line. “Did you really?” Velvette finally manages to snatch her phone out of my hands, and pins me against the wall. My face immediately turns red from our position. “Hey-” I start off as I try to collect myself.

“We had an agreement Vel.” I whine as I stare at her. God she’s extremely close to me right now. “I never agreed to that, and you know it.” She says, getting closer to me, her face inches from mine.

On the phone, Vox was quiet. “Uh.. am I interrupting something…?” Somehow my face heats up even more from his words. Velvette moves closer still, basically pinning me between her and the wall. She holds her phone up to her ear. “You could say that, yeah.”

Once again, Vox is quiet on the other end for a few moments. “Uhh, should I hang up or-?” Velvette and I stare at each other before she responds. “Nah no need.”

“You sure? Because I feel like I’m interrupting something.” Vox says, still confused. Velvette’s gaze turns back to me and she smiles, her nose almost touching mine now. A small squeak escapes me.

He laughs as he hears me. “Yeah, definitely interrupting something.” Velvette lets out a small chuckle, her lips almost brushing against mine. My breath hitches as my eyes dart between her eyes and lips. What the hell is happening right now?

Vox continues to chuckle. “Vel, is she blushing?” Velvette smiles at the question, her thumb tracing my cheek gently. “Oh, she definitely is.” My eyes narrow at their teasing. “Fuck off both of you.” Vox laughed again as I said that. “Damn, she’s feisty.”

“You have no idea.” Velvette says. She still hasn’t moved, her gaze still fixated on me, studying my every feature. My hands grab her waist pulling her in closer. “Love ya but I didn’t sign up for a threesome.”

At that, Vox laughs even harder. “Oh my God-” I start to laugh as well. “Settle down, dumbass. I’m not interested.” She directs to Vox. Her hand is still pressed up against the wall trapping me, but my hands on her waist make her eyes widen a bit, still staring into mine.

I let out of my hands trail up her body until it grips her phone. “As fun as this was, Vox I think she’s going to hang up now.” Vox laughs even more, completely enjoying this. “Oh by all means-” Before he can finish his sentence, I hang up the call and toss the phone.

“Much better.” I say happily before my gaze darkens. “As interesting as a threesome would be, you gotta communicate a bit more.” I tease. “Is that so?” Velvette says, a smirk on her face. “So you’d be into that, huh?”

“I said nothing of the sort.” I grin as I stare at her. “You said a threesome would be interesting.” She says, bringing her face closer to mine. “Which means you have at least some interest in it, darling.”

“I’m more interested in when you developed feelings for me.” I say lowly. Velvette is slightly caught off-guard by my question, her eyes widening for a second but she quickly regains her composure. “And if I said awhile ago?”

“Then I’d say I’m as blind as a fucking bat.” I laugh slightly. “Maybe you are.” She says with a shrug. “Or, I’m just the master at hiding my feelings for you.” I hum in thought. “I thought my feelings were one-sided this whole time.”

“You did?” She says as her hands come to rest on my shoulders. “Darling, I thought mine were one-sided. I thought you were completely uninterested in me in that way.”

I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms around her waist, and resting my head in the crook of her neck. “Were both fucking idiots oh my god.” Velvette laughed, wrapping her arms around me in return. “Looks like it.” She lets out a content hum before speaking again. “Damn, we’re both dumb as hell… We could’ve been making out ages ago.”

I lift my head up as I give her a sly smile. “Never too late to start.” Velvette smiles back at me. “I like the way you think.” Without another word, her lips press to mine, her hands moving up from my shoulders to my face, caressing my jaw while mine are still wrapped around her waist, keeping her close.

My hands grip her hips tighter as I deepen the kiss. Velvette’s tongue brushes against my bottom lip and after a moment I part my lips, letting her tongue explore my mouth.

Her hands grip my face a bit tighter as she kisses me harder. When she finally pulls back, she chuckles slightly. “Damn, you’re a good kisser, darling.” I can’t help but laugh at her words.

“All because I took away your phone. Being offline can be beneficial sometimes, love.” She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll give you that one. It was worth giving up my phone for a bit just for that.”

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skylarstarlight · 8 months

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More prompt ideas.

But this one is special, it’s from, yours truly; AN AUSTIN UPCOMING FIC!!

It’s a small little excerpt, and I hope you like it! It’s inspired by all of my asks about Jouno’s Autopilot!

—

Jouno has a weird…thing.

He doesn’t know what it is, or how to quite explain it but it’s there, nonetheless.

The best way he can call it is “Autopilot.”

Say for instance; have you ever forgotten your phone? When did you realize you had forgotten it? It didn’t dawn on you spontaneously, you probably reached into your pocket and realized it wasn’t there.

Autopilot is the term of a certain brain mechanism when you have a habit or a routine. Once the routine is triggered, there’s really not much a person can do to really stop it. Say you’re about to do the routine, but something small yet important slightly disrupts it. Not a problem, you fix it, infraction forgotten, routine started.

Autopilot engaged.

When this happens, there’s a specific part of your brain that deals with the routine once it’s triggered, so your brain is thinking of other things. When Jouno is at the cafe, he isn’t thinking of moving the latte through his intestines, he’s thinking of that one time Tecchou gave him a food combination with this specific latte, one which Jouno was washing his mouth out for hours.

When he’s brushing his teeth in the morning, Jouno doesn't think of making sure he’s standing and keeping his balance or to breathing. He’s probably thinking about what he's gonna eat for breakfast today, what he’s gonna wear, what Tachihara is doing around now.

It’s almost like a trigger system too. A few words can trigger old routines he hasn’t done in almost forever. He guessed it’s like PTSD too but not quite.

All it takes is a simple title he hasn’t heard in a while, and all of the sudden it’s; Autopilot engaged.

And it’s frustrating, because it’s not like he can fully control it either.

Like that time almost all of the Hunting Dogs, except for Jouno and Fukuchi were kidnapped.

It involved some old bad blood at the mafia he used to work at. His mom screwed some people over, died, and left him with the baggage of it. And even if he only joined just to get off death row, he guessed he…cares for the Hunting Dogs. In his own way, of course.

It was the one time he decided to call out for a mission and his team and captain suffered for it. He remembered when he found the commander, almost immobilized and the stench of blood filled his senses.

“Well, if they were going to the East for that investigation,” Jouno began, his nose scrunched at the memories of that guy’s face, his scent. Old and expensive cologne with alcohol and just pheromones of an uncle your parents told you not to talk to. “They would have to go into the woods. If anyone knows where they are, it’s that beaded eyed perverted motherfucker.”

Fukuchi sighed on the infirmary bed, and Jouno could hear the anxiety pounding in his heart, the way the commander bawled up his fist, how he was barely breathing. Jouno didn’t think he'd ever heard him so anxious, maybe the commander viewed them as his own. It’s almost the same heart rate as a parent who’s lost their kid under rubble of a coming down building.

“Jouno,” He began. “Bring them back. By all means necessary.”

Woah, what?

The white-haired male paused, replaying those words almost a thousand times in his head, hell even he stopped breathing. His brows were furrowed, his posture stiff as his body remembered something or knew something his mind didn’t and was trying to stop it. There was an odd uncomfortable comfortable familiarity with those words. By all means necessary. Where had he heard that before?

“Jouno,” His mother had cooed, putting her hands on his face. “Remember: you can't screw this up. Complete this mission,”

“By all means necessary.”

All means necessary.

Autopilot engaged.

—

apjaiajajajajajab *gives you this and runs away like the gremlin I am*

*frames it on my wall*

NO I LOVE THAT ESPECIALLY THE BEGINNING WHEN YOURE COMPARING IT TO LIKE MUNDANE ROUTINES ITS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!

Also screw Jouno's mom all my homies hate Jouno's mom (my au Jouno mom ALSO sucks rah)

Keep writing it I have a gun to your head you better /j

#skylar rambles #ask

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miammey · 7 months

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A prompt idea!

But this one is special, it’s from, yours truly; AN AUSTIN UPCOMING FIC!!

It’s a small little excerpt, and I hope you like it! It’s inspired by all of my comments and basically my take about Jouno’s Autopilot!

—

Jouno has a weird…thing.

He doesn’t know what it is, or how to quite explain it but it’s there, nonetheless.

The best way he can call it is “Autopilot.”

Autopilot engaged.

It’s almost like a trigger system too. A few words can trigger old routines he hasn’t done in almost forever. He guessed it’s like PTSD too but not quite.

All it takes is a simple title he hasn’t heard in a while, and all of the sudden it’s; Autopilot engaged.

And it’s frustrating, because it’s not like he can fully control it either.

Like that time almost all of the Hunting Dogs, except for Jouno and Fukuchi were kidnapped.

“Well, if they were going to the East for that investigation,” Jouno began, his nose scrunched at the memories of that guy’s face, his scent. Old and expensive cologne with alcohol and just pheromones of an uncle your parents told you not to talk to. “They would have to go into the woods of Yokohama. If anyone knows where they are, it’s that beaded eyed perverted motherfucker.”

“Jouno,” He began. “Bring them back. By all means necessary.”

Woah, what?

“Jouno,” His mother had cooed, putting her hands on his face. “Remember: you can't screw this up. Complete this mission,”

“By all means necessary.”

All means necessary.

Autopilot engaged.

—

apjaiajajajajajab *gives you this and runs away like the gremlin I am*

ANXKSKDJA THIS IS SO GOOD!!! I love the description you gave of the “autopilot” too!!! I can’t wait to read the rest of it, please feel free to tag me or message me when it’s done!!!!

#also I’m so sorry for replying to this so late #life’s been a little stressful and I’ve been pretty out of it #asks

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hirudou · 1 year

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i am , manifesting here🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ to tell you :pointemoji: that your portrayals in general are always a joy to see on my dash regardless of who you're writing and what fandom they're from. your passion for them is always so infectious , and i've always thought that you had a way with delving into certain aspects of your muses that others may tend to overlook. your ocs are always a joy , they're so big brain and im putting them in my pocket. and i enjoy your portrayal of jade sm , i love reading your metas on him whenever i see it on the dash. you're so fun to talk to and all our plots and dynamics are so dear to me. ily and all your gremlins mwa mwa mwa i am blowing u a kiss rn💓

SOPHIE!!!!!!!! LOML FR!!!!!!!! grabbing you, and spinning with you on the roof tops right now aaaaaa-- thank you SM ;; we've known one another for a bit now but....TBH it feels like i've known you forever! you're such an incredibly sweet and silly person. i'm always looking forward to our convos, or ic stuff or literally anything really. you and muses really sit in my head and my heart rent free 24/7. ;;;

here is to a very long, very happy friendship! gonna go dive into the ocean now and go find sen to ask for her hand in marriage

beep beep- how's my portrayal?

#curious? i suppose i can tell you…. ( answered asks )#literally grabbing for u #holding you SO close #YOURE SO IMPORTANT TO ME SOPH!!!!#I HOPE U KNOW!#MWA MWA MWA!!!!!!!!!!

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3000-200-grains-of-salt · 3 years

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SBI: Survival 101 (SBI Fanfiction)

Read it on Wattpad here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/275527714-sbi-survival-101-my-version

Chapter 1: Great View From Up Here

A shiny black alarm clock strikes nine PM.

Tommy had been waiting for this day for months. Tonight, he is finally going to see a concert by his favourite band, Lovejoy. Tommy's parents weren't as ecstatic as he was when he told them his plans. Even after weeks of begging, telling them he'd pay for it, even promising to do extra chores, the answer was still a resounding "no".

So, like any other teen without permission to do something, Tommy snuck out.

Grabbing his red and white camera, a few microSD cards, and a pre-loaded backpack, Tommy slid open the window and clambered out. The sun was casting its last rays of light on the surrounding neighbourhood and the warm night breeze gently brushed Tommy's golden hair. He slid onto the grass and walked to the bus stop.

All of the teen movies really hyped this up way too much. Sneaking out was way easier than Tommy thought. At 9:15, the evening bus arrived right on schedule. Tommy jumped on and dropped a few dollars into the driver's open hand. Sitting down on one of many empty seats, the excitement finally hit Tommy. He smiled. Today would be one of the best days he's had for a while.

Tommy spent the 20 minutes on the bus hyping himself up for the upcoming ecstasy. His smile only grew wider as the bus slid to a halt in front of an outdoor stadium glowing with lights. Tommy got out of his seat, thanked the bus driver, and jumped off. He tried to contain his excitement as he walked to the entrance. He showed the guard his ticket and stepped into the concert. Even though Tommy was early, the crowd was huge. Burgundy posters with Lovejoy's symbol hung on every empty surface. Shops were selling novelty Lovejoy merchandise.

Tommy remembered that his friends Tubbo and Ranboo were coming as well. He scanned all of the people standing around him, looking for Ranboo's tall silhouette. Tommy spotted him over by the snack bar, Tubbo standing next to him. Shoving his way through the crowd, Tommy made his way over towards Tubbo, using Ranboo as a beacon.

"Tubbo! Ranboo!" he called.

"Tommy! You made it!" replied Tubbo as his face lit up.

"Of course I did." Tommy turned his gaze to Ranboo. "Good to see you too, man." Tommy playfully shoved Ranboo.

"When's it gonna start?" asked Ranboo.

"I dunno. Maybe in like, two minutes?" replied Tubbo.

"Well then, we better get good spots. Right in the middle and towards the front, where we can see," suggested Tommy.

"Tommy, you can sit on my shoulders," Ranboo joked.

"Ha, ha, very funny. Come on, let's get to the front!" Tommy grabbed Ranboo's wrist and started pulling him towards the middle. But before they got there, the crowd pushed Ranboo from Tommy's grasp.

"Meet up with you later?" Ranboo yelled to Tommy.

"Yeah!" Tommy called back. He hoped that Ranboo would stay with Tubbo. Maybe his tallness would prevent Tubbo from floating away. Tommy pushed his way to the centre front just as the band members started to walk out on stage. The lead singer, Wilbur, had curly brown hair swept to one side and peeking out of a grey beanie. He was wearing a black leather jacket on top of a pale yellow T-shirt. The crowd clapped and cheered.

The opening riff started. Here we go.

"She's always asking,' Am I alright?' " Wilbur, the lead band member, sang.

"As if auspicious or in my pint," Tommy had never been so excited.

"I'll find the answer or a good night," He was being pushed around by the crowd.

"Thank God the time is short." Tommy looked around for Tubbo and Ranboo.

"And yes, you always do that one thing," The crowd was smothering.

"When you wrinkle up the nose bridge," Ranboo waved to Tommy.

"I'm tryin' to figure out what that meant," Tommy couldn't hear what Ranboo was saying.

"I took it as a taunt." Tommy turned away from Ranboo and faced the stage.

"Remember way back then in school?

Oh, did anybody ever say no to you?

Oh, did anybody ever say no to you? Whoa," Wilbur sang. Tommy was happy.

The rest of the show passed quickly and slowly at the same time. Tommy enjoyed every second. The band even played a bunch of songs that hadn't been released yet. After an hour of music, it was finally the end of the concert. Tommy had the entire thing videotaped and stored on a microSD card. He was sad it was over, but still satisfied. He started to look for Ranboo again.

Tommy saw him and Tubbo by the snacks again. Ranboo and Tubbo were buying treats for themselves. But when Tubbo turned around, he was holding up a green Lovejoy bandana. He waved to Tommy, yelling something that he couldn't hear over the hubbub. He gestured to the bandana, then pointed to Tommy. He understood. Tubbo bought Tommy a bandana. He smiled and started to walk towards the snack bench. But before he could reach them, a hunched man clad in red shoved past Tommy roughly.

"Hey! Watch it!" Tommy yelled. The man turned back towards him. Ghastly white eyes poked from beneath dishevelled hair. Thorny red vines crept over clammy grey skin. The man— thing? Whatever it was— turned away from Tommy and continued pushing through the crowd. Surprised outbursts came from whoever it shoved past. Tommy shook his head to clear it. His phone rang. It was Tubbo. Tommy accepted the call and held the phone up to his ear.

"Tommy? You there?" Tubbo's voice came through the speaker.

"Hi. Yeah. I'm here," Tommy looked around for Ranboo and Tubbo. "Where are you guys?"

"Uhh..." Tubbo paused. "We're towards the front of the stage. See you there?"

"Yeah. Hey, did you see that guy wearing red? He was kind of shoving his way through the crowd,"

"I did," Ranboo's voice piped in through the phone. "Kinda sus." Tommy ignored the joke.

"It doesn't matter anymore." Tommy shook his head. "Hey, I'm gonna go see if I can meet Lovejoy. Talk later?"

"Of course, big man. Have fun!" Click. Tubbo hung up. Tommy put his phone away. He started to walk to where the band was standing.

Tommy heard screaming behind him.

Tommy whipped his head around as the entrance doors flung open. Hundreds of people—were they people? They looked vaguely humanoid, but not enough— flooded in through the doors. All had glassy white eyes and dead grey skin. Thorny red vines clung to tattered clothing and ripped skin.

Tommy didn't know what the hell was going on.

All he knew was that the things—maybe zombies?—were spreading these vines that radiated evil. Tommy would have investigated more, but his fight or flight instinct kicked in. He fled. Faster than he had ever run before. He caught a glimpse of Ranboo and Tubbo sprinting out of the stadium unharmed and internally sighed with relief. They would be safe for now.

Tommy slid to a halt and surveyed his surroundings. He could barely see anything because of the stampeding crowd. His gaze turned to the stage, now devoid of any band members except for Wilbur, who was using his sturdy guitar like a club.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE MY MUSIC, FUCKER?" Wilbur knocked down a cluster of zombies. He was doing well, but seconds away from being overtaken. Adrenaline couldn't last forever.

Tommy snatched a heavy bass off of the stage and swung it at a bunch of zombies. Wilbur spun around, almost hitting Tommy as he smashed through the remaining zombies. He looked towards the huge doors of the exit. Tommy followed his gaze. A white van with Lovejoy's symbol on it sat just outside the doors.

Wilbur started running towards the van. Tommy followed, attacking any zombies that got in their way. Wilbur slipped on a green piece of cloth. Tears pricked Tommy's eyes as he realized what it was. The bandana Tubbo had bought him. Tommy grabbed it and spurred Wilbur onwards. The zombies were crowding around them. Wilbur and Tommy finally broke through the mass of bodies.

"GET IN THE VAN," Wilbur screamed. Tommy jumped into the driver's seat.

"Keys, keys, keys!!" Tommy exclaimed as Wilbur slammed the passenger door shut. He fumbled in his pockets and tossed Tommy the keys to the van. He shoved them in the socket and twisted the guitar-shaped keychain. The van shuddered to a start.

"Castaways... We are castaways..." The song from a kids' show blared through the speakers.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS MUSIC??" Tommy started spinning the radio dial.

"JUST DRIVE FUCKING DRIVE," Wilbur called back.

"WHY IS THIS ON THE RADIO??"

"SHUT UP, GREMLIN CHILD," Wilbur shoved Tommy's legs aside and pushed down the gas pedal with his left hand. He placed his right hand on the steering wheel and swerved away from a car just in time. The van veered onto the freeway. Tommy moved Wilbur's hand off of the wheel and straightened out the van. Wilbur sat back up and looked out the back of the van. He faced forwards and leant back. Tommy sighed and hoped that Tubbo and Ranboo were alright.

But for now, Tommy was in for a long night.

#so remember when kuwukie's twitch chat was brainrotting about an apocolyps sbi au?#yeah thats what this is #sbi fanfic #dream smp fanfiction

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lesbianlovelanguage · 4 years

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i want to feel something (i’m numb inside)

It’s another HfBLM Prompt for imperfectabstraction on AO3, who requested pining!Billy who’s bad at communication. Thank you endlessly for your donation!!

Also a huge ass thank you to @gideongrace for your patience and help in me writing this and basically betaing it. I love you so much.

Read it on AO3 here or below the cut

-----

1. Welcome to Hawkins.

Billy had been attending Hawkins High for two weeks when he realized what was happening.

It wasn’t anything special, no fireworks or butterflies, but instead a cold frustration frosting over him. Because he realized he had a crush. On the most popular and decidedly straight boy in the miserable town of Hawkins, Indiana. Neil’s beatings could never compare to the sinking feeling in Billy’s gut when Steve Harrington stood in front of their english class and gave a frankly terrible report on Moby-Dick .

It certainly wasn’t Harrington’s presentation that made Billy recognize his crush, but the way his soft hair shined and he stood tall and confident even as the words that poured from his mouth were utter bullshit .

Billy had always been a sucker for confidence and cockiness.

But once Harrington had sat down, and was thus out of Billy’s sightlines, the warmth that came with a new crush turned to the familiar iciness, and it felt as if a great gaping maw had opened below him.

Even after the bell rang and the classroom emptied out, Billy was stuck in his head.

It wasn’t fair, he thought. He was supposed to hate everyone and everything about this town, and be fucking thankful when he got to put everything in his rearview mirror. But here he was with a ridiculous crush.

It wouldn’t couldn’t change his plans. Billy was resolute to not act upon his feelings, to avoid Harrington at every turn.

That resolution to ignore Harrington stayed for the next 5 periods, until he got to basketball practice. Harrington was clearly in his element on the court, no math problems or english reports here. Just sheer athleticism and strategy. And it made Billy angry. Because he couldn’t do anything about Harrington’s breathless panting or the way he was clearly showing off. So Billy did what he always did when he was angry.

He played dirty.

He used every trick in the book to trip up Harrington, guarding him by pushing every body part up against Harrington, using even the tiniest of openings to steal the ball, and he rammed into Harrington to steal the ball. He showed off a little, bolstered by the knowledge that Harrington’s focus was entirely upon him, the anger replaced by the feeling of pride.

When he landed after dunking the ball, he turned and continued to use the excitement of being Harrington’s sole focus to bound over to the tangled heap of lanky limbs and pale, creamy skin. He even put out a hand to help him up before he came back to himself, violently.

What was he doing? This is the exact opposite of ignoring Harrington .

He tried to save face by growling some stupid one-liner about planting his feet, and then dropped him like a sack of potatoes.

When Harrington popped back up and ignored Billy completely to chase after the ice princess herself, he shook his head and continued to play. This time, his showing off and dirty moves turned vicious as he continued to foul right and left before the coach was forced to bench him. He tried to shrug off the anger and left to take a shower.

Thankfully the showers stayed empty, and Billy was able to escape. After the disaster that was basketball practice, he decided to firmly clamp down his feelings and avoid Steve Harrington at all costs.

2. Can’t Ignore Him Anymore

Billy was having a bad night, to say the least .

His plan to head off to Indianapolis and the nearest gay bar with a loose ID policy was ruined because his shitbird step-sister decided to fuck off with her weird ass friends, probably with Sinclair even though he tried to warn her that Neil wouldn’t be happy. He had proof of what happened when Neil wasn’t happy blooming on his back too. At least it wasn’t worse, he thought with a grimace. He wasn’t sure when walking away with bruises had become lucky but it was what it was.

And now he had to run all over Hawkins to find the little shitbird, and with every house that sent him somewhere else his admittedly small patience was dwindling. By the time he was pulling into the dark driveway of the Byer’s house, he was itching for a fight.

And then Steve fucking Harrington walked out of the house. Because God hated him.

Or at least, it felt like the Big Man hated him as Harrington sauntered towards him, dish towel casually tossed over one shoulder and hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?” He felt himself call out before fully processing the words.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Harrington sounded blase in his response, but a faint blush appeared on his cheeks as Billy took off his jacket. Interesting. As he walked towards Harrington, a familiar bush of bright red hair popped in and out of the window and shocked Billy back to reality. He stopped, leaving plenty of space between himself and Harrington, enough to hopefully let him keep a clear head.

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy taunted. Maybe he would finally see some action tonight, at least enough to wipe the bitter taste that flirting with Mrs. Wheeler left in his mouth.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Harrington retorted, sounding exactly like a fifth grader.

“Well, I would. ‘S why I asked, cause I don’t really like the picture that’s being painted here. Max goes missing all day, and then I find her here in some stranger’s house, with you of all people. See what I’m seeing, Pretty Boy?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, me of all people?” Of course Harrington would pick up on that.

“What does King Steve want with a thirteen-year-old girl? Not a great look man.” The adrenaline bubbled up in Billy’s stomach in anticipation of a fight, fists clenching and skin buzzing. But Harrington never reacted how Billy expected, and this was no exception.

“Yeah, but letting demon monsters kill a group of pre-teens isn’t so great either,” he said casually, as if his words would make a lick of sense. Billy gaped a little before shaking his head and laughing a bitter, mean laugh.

“You’re digging your own grave man. I just wanted my step-sister, but it looks like I’m gonna have to kick your ass.” That was the only warning he gave before closing the distance and swinging. Harrington went down like a sack of potatoes and Billy couldn’t help the smugness in his voice when he bent over and spit, “Told you to plant your fucking feet, Princess.” He then stepped over Harrington’s sprawled body and walked inside.

He noticed all of the usual brats that hang off of Harrington, but his gaze zeroed in on Lucas. All of the anger and frustration Billy had felt over the course of the night collided into one comprehensible thought.

He had warned her.

He wasn’t proud of what he did, but at least he had the ability to stop. He just wanted to scare the kid, hoping that if he couldn’t warn Max he could scare the kid off before Neil got involved.

If he got involved, he wouldn’t stop, not until Sinclair was really hurt. Or even dead.

Billy didn’t like himself while he was doing it, knew that his behavior was revolting and monstrous, but he was willing to play the bad guy if it kept the gremlins from the real bad guy. He was thankful when Harrington forced him around and clocked him in the face. Then he had something better to focus his rage and fear on.

They were in the middle of fighting when Billy thought he lost his mind. He had grabbed the fridge door, planning to use it to clock Harrington in the head, when a thing fell out. It didn’t move from it’s spot on the kitchen floor but it left a trail of something slimy and Billy went mental.

“What the actual fuck. Someone had ten seconds to explain what this is,” he growled, and was promptly educated about the Upside Down, demogorgons, and something the brats called The Mind Flayer. Apparently Hawkins was housing some horror movie level shit, and of course Harrington was involved. So much for ignoring him forever.

3. Summer Sweetness

Billy didn’t just enjoy summer. He thrived in the summer. The sun, the heat, the smell of the ocean and the sound of busy beaches filled him with a happiness even Neil couldn’t touch. There were no ocean waves that summer, but chlorine was a close substitute. Anything was better than the disgusting stench of cowshit that seemed to permeate Hawkins in the fall.

And even better was the silent agreement he had made with one Steve Harrington.

It started at Prom. Billy had agreed to go with some girl, he hadn’t bothered to remember her name, only to get the promposals to stop. It was a good ego boost at first, but after six in four class periods, it got exhausting to try and politely decline. So, the seventh girl who came up to him with a big home-made card practically dripping in glitter got a ‘Yes’ from the Billy Hargrove. Ridiculous.

He made the mistake of telling Max somewhere that Neil could overhear him, so he ended up having to rent a limo and buy a corsage and dress up in a full tux. All for a thing he didn’t want to go to with a girl he didn’t care about. To just get through the night, he ended up downing an entire bottle of tequila by himself.

The next morning he would definitely be blaming the tequila, but he would be lying to himself that it was the only reason he did what he did.

It had been building for a long time, but it wasn’t until he saw Steve in the bathroom furthest from the gym that he realized what it was.

He had stumbled down the darkened hallways of Hawkins High, desperate for the escape a cigarette would bring him. He knew the bathroom in the english hall had a busted fire alarm, so he made a beeline towards it. He was so focused on pulling the pack out and lighting up, he failed to notice there was someone else, not until they cleared their throat. His head shot up, ready to fight, only to be met with big brown eyes and pale creamy skin.

“Oh hey, Pretty Boy. What are you doing here?” He tried to play it casual, not letting on that blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was in his throat.

“Could ask you the same question. I’m pretty sure Colleen is asthmatic, won’t appreciate the nicotine smell,” he said, gesturing to the cigarette he had just lit up. It took him a minute to figure out who the fuck Colleen was, until he realized it was the date he had abandoned in the gym.

“Pretty sure she won’t care what I smell like, if you know what I mean.” Billy waggled his eyebrows and dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. He was caught off guard though, when Steve’s pupils dilated. Interesting.

“You’re nasty,” Steve tried to cover the few seconds of silence, but Billy was a shark who had smelt blood.

“Oh really, Stevie?” He asked before taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing it towards Steve. “You don’t like the idea of Colleen and I getting freaky? What’s a little locker room talk between amigos after all?” He smirked before going in for what he hoped was the kill. “Unless… You’re jealous?” His smirk only grew as Steve stuttered, trying to form a rebuttal.

“I am not jealous of Colleen. I feel bad for her, going to one of the most special nights with you.” Steve’s words were meant to cut, but Billy could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

“Never said you were jealous of Colleen, Stevie. But if you are, I think I have a solution.” That was the only warning he gave Steve before walking over to be right in front of him. They were so close their shoes were touching, and Billy could smell the smoke on Steve’s breath.

“Seems a little hypocritical to yell at me about smoking when you were doing the same thing.” Billy may have noticed that Steve wasn’t the best in school, but he would never say the boy was slow. He seemed to get with the picture pretty quickly.

“Oh yeah?” His voice was breathy and soft. “You gonna do something about it?”

“I think I have to. It wouldn’t be right if I just ignored it.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Do it,” Steve challenged. And Billy never backed down from a challenge. He lunged forward the few feet between them and smashed his lips against Steve’s.

The kiss wasn’t nice or gentle. It was a battle between two wild animals, only softened when Steve’s hands snuck up Billy’s back and tugged on the golden ringlets. Billy broke the kiss with a moan and Steve grinned.

“Like that, tiger?”

“Shut up and get back here,” was Billy’s only response before they collided again. Shaky hands unbuttoned shirts. As soon as Steve’s torso was exposed, Billy moved down to suck what was sure to be an impressive hickey along Steve’s collarbone, unable to resist marking the pale skin.

Steve’s moan was loud as Billy moved his hands from the small of his back to his thighs and picked him up. Like he was nothing. He was placed on the edge of a sink, and then Billy moved down Steve’s chest, kissing every mole he could find. After successfully making his way down to his knees, Billy unzipped Steve’s pants and proceeded to rock the boy’s damn world.

That was the only time they had sex during school, but it wasn’t the last time they had hooked up, far from it in fact. He was dropping Max off at the ice cream shop, Scoops Ahoy, when he saw Steve again. He was in a truly ridiculous parody of a sailor’s costume and Billy wanted to eat him alive.

He was surprised to find the feeling was mutual. He walked up to the counter to tease Steve about the uniform, and somehow ended up in the storage room getting his dick sucked this time.

The summer proceeded to pass like that, until some time in July when Steve said he couldn’t keep having sex at work and gave Billy his phone number with a wink. Then Billy started sneaking into Steve’s bedroom at ungodly hours and left before the sun had risen.

But all good things came to an end, and Billy was nothing if not a coward. As soon as August came around, and the pool closed, Billy took all of his savings and the four boxes it had taken to pack up everything he cared about, and left. Without a word, a text, or a note. He ran away from Hawkins, ran from his father, and from Steve, who had started talking about having movie nights and cooking dinner together and other domestic crap fuck buddies weren’t supposed to do together.

He ran.

4. Hey Pretty Boy, Long Time No See

Billy loved Chicago. He had moved there with plans of just saving up enough to fly back to Los Angeles, but a year into living there he had fallen in love. Sure there were things he hated, like the winters and the tourists, but there were so many more things to love.

Like the food, and the people he had met. Both of which he was enjoying on a perfect summer’s day. And to top it all off, he was finally going to get a tattoo.

Robin, a girl he had met through work and then started to hang out with after running into her at the annual Pride Parade, had convinced him to finally indulge in it, helped him work out what exactly he wanted, and even gave him a recommendation for a guy at her shop that specialized in the style of tattoos that Billy had decided he wanted.

So, on the day of his appointment, he met Robin during her lunch break where they grabbed some tacos from a street car and walked back to her shop. Billy was silent, nervous as hell, but luckily Robin was enough of a chatterbox to fill the silence and keep it from getting awkward.

“You will love Steve, Billy. Swear to God he’s one of the sweetest people I’ve met.” She let out a small huff. “Of course he’s a total dingus, but so are you. Boom. Match made in Heaven.” She waved her hand around, almost dropping her taco, and Billy couldn’t help but laugh at her antics.

That laughter died in his throat though, and he nearly choked on his own spit, as they walked through the door of The Mind Flayer Tattoos and Piercing because behind the desk was a face he never thought he would see again.

Steve Harrington.

Of course he had fantasized about this moment, had dreamed about those Bambi eyes and impish grin, even years later as it was. He had tried to distract himself, tried to move on, but he quickly realized it wasn’t working. Once he realized he had been silently comparing every other guy to Steve, he gave up, resigned himself to being alone, and had gotten a cat.��

Just like in high school though, all of his resolve to move on disappeared when faced with Steve Harrington.

The years since high school had clearly been kind to him, and while Billy had always thought he was pretty, now he was downright gorgeous. His hair was still perfectly styled, but he had grown it out so that the ends just barely touched his shoulders. He was also wearing a pair of stylish glasses with thin golden frames that glinted softly in the warm lighting of the tattoo parlor. Most notably though, Billy could clearly see his left arm where it rested next to a book he bent over, and it was covered in a beautiful, intricate tattoo sleeve. All Billy wanted in that moment was to trail his fingertips over the black lines that formed shapes that resembled flowers. Looking closer though, he realized some of the flowers actually held rows and rows of teeth, and mixed in was the rough outline of a baseball bat with nails. It was a mural dedicated to his experiences that one fall day, a constant reminder of what he had been through.

Steve finally looked up at them as Robin led Billy to the counter, and he clearly recognized Billy, as his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened.

“Holy shit.”

Billy felt a small smile form as he lifted a hand and waved awkwardly at the boy he had left behind. “Hiay Pretty Boy. Long time, no see.” He had hoped that the nickname would lighten the mood, but instead Steve’s shock was replaced by hard lines and tense shoulders.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” His voice was dripping in hostility, making Billy flinch slightly before tensing up as well. He knew he was the one in the wrong, but fuck if that had ever stopped him from being the weak one.

Robin beat Billy to a response however, letting out a small noise before looking quickly between the two boys.

“I think I’m missing something here, and that something is big,so I’m jist going to walk over here and let you two work it out. Please don’t kill each other.” Despite the lingering angst in the air, both boys couldn’t hold back a chuckle as Robin walked away from them and disappeared into the back room. As the door swung shut though, and they were alone in the shop, the tension could be cut with a knife.

“Let’s get this over with,” Steve said with a sigh, and all Billy could do was nod and follow him to a prepared work station in the back corner of the open-plan parlor.

He double checked where the tattoo was going, on his right shoulder, and then gently placed the stencil on and smoothing it over. He removed the plastic to reveal a purple version of the tattoo and then nodded to where a full length mirror had been hung on the wall.

Billy checked how it laid, and took in how the design had turned out once again. He had seen the draft in an email, but to see it on his body was an entirely different experience. It was a depiction of the beach, detailed with old school flowers and a setting sun, and a perfect symbol of Billy’s origins. He had decided that while he didn’t want to return to California, he wanted a reminder of the peace an evening on the beach brought him.

Having confirmed that it was perfectly placed, he returned to the workstation and settled into the chair. The tension remained as Steve silently placed his arm in the best position and loaded the gun with ink. He returned to Billy’s side and sighed.

“You need to relax if you want me to actually do this.”

“Sorry, Pretty Boy. Guess you just fill me with butterflies,” Billy shot back, trying to regain some of the bravado that had conveniently left him. Steve snorted before setting down the tattoo gun and muttering Jesus and rubbing at his temple.

“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta cut that shit out.”

“What shit?”

“The- the fucking flirting and the nicknames. That shit.”

“Sorry, Pretty Boy,” he emphasized the name with a cocky smirk. “It’s just part of the Hargrove charm.”

“Well if you want a good tattoo, you’ll dial back the Hargrove bullshit. Now take a deep breath and fucking relax.” Billy gave a sarcastic salute before deliberately taking a deep breath and dropping his shoulders. Steve rolled his eyes, but reserved all his smart comments in favor of starting the tattoo.

They sat in relative silence, only broken by the gentle whir of the tattoo gun and Steve occasionally reminding Billy to not hold his breath. It wasn’t until Steve muttered a soft, “Halfway there tiger,” that he found the courage to break the silence. Whether consciously or not, Steve had used one of his favorite pet names for Billy and that action alone gave him hope that he hadn’t ruined their relationship completely when he left.

“Nice tats Harrington,” he said casually, nodding at his left arm. Steve snorted.

“Thanks. Of course, you know the whole story behind it. Robin and everyone at the shop just think it’s some insane movie monster they’ve never heard of.”

“Yeah, not exactly the easiest thing to explain to people,” Billy agreed, nodding his head.

“As chill as Robs can be, I think if I tried to tell her I fought off intergalactic demon dogs with a nail bat and a group of four middle schoolers she would check me into the nearest institute.”

Billy faked an offended gasp. “It wasn’t all middle schoolers, I was there too. Saved your ass at one point too.”

“Bullshit you saved me. If I recall, you screamed like a little bitch until Max threatened you with my bat and then stole your keys. If she hadn’t threatened to drive your car I think you would never have come with.” There was a fire in Steve’s eyes now, a warmth Billy thought he would never be privy to again.

And then Steve looked up from his arm and his face shuttered back into stone. He wiped the excess ink and blood off of his arm and studiously ignored any more attempts Billy made at conversation, which ranged from commenting about the photos littering his workstation to commenting on the fucking weather. Eventually he got the message and shut his trap for the rest of the session.

Steve walked him through the after-care steps clinically, and he faintly picked up the “wash with antibacterial soap twice a day” and “apply scent-free lotion when it starts flaking”, but his brain was mostly stuck on “touch-ups are free up to six months after the first appointment.”

He still had a chance. Maybe the shock was too much, but if Steve was offering up the chance to meet again?

Billy wouldn’t let it slip past.

5. Let’s Try This Again

Billy loved his tattoo. He made sure to take meticulous care of it, applying lotion religiously and steadfastly ignoring the urge to pick at the peeling skin. Luckily, the amount of sunburns he got back in California prepared him for it pretty well.

Even if it was healing perfectly, and he was ecstatic about the final result after it had finished peeling, he still decided to talk to Robin about scheduling a touch-up. She had looked it over when he asked while they were grabbing burritos, and told him that he definitely didn’t need a touch up, but when he continued to insist that he wanted another appointment she looked at him skeptically and agreed.

He had it scheduled for a month after his initial appointment, and the weeks seemed to drag by as he eagerly awaited his second- well, technically third- chance with Steve.The day of, he and Robin agreed to the same schedule of grabbing lunch and then walking over to the shop together, but instead of Robin filling the silence, Billy instead prattled on about a couple cases he was looking over and how well they were going. As much as he could without breaking the NASW Code of Ethics of course.

Robin nodded along agreeable and made all the right noises in the right places, but she was overall quieter than usual, until the shop got into view.

A block away from the neon sign, she stopped them both and turned to Billy. “I’ve been pretty patient, but I have to know before we walk in there. What is the deal between you and Steve?”

“I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Brat. There’s no story there,” Billy tried to brush it off and keep walking, but Robin was surprisingly strong for her slender frame. She grabbed his arm and forced him to stop.

“That’s a blatant lie, and I can’t let you in there if you’re on some sort of weird revenge quest or something. He was seriously shaken up after your session, and I love you, but I love the dingus too.” She paired the serious tone of her voice with stern eye contact and a slight tightening of her hand on his bicep.

“Jesus Robin,” Billy said, shrugging off her vice-like grip, “It’s nothing like that, I swear. If anything, I’m trying to fucking apologize.” She just raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his explanation. “Fine. We went to high school together and I fucked up in a big way, alright? I regret it, and I want to try and make it up to him.”

“Yeah, well. You seem to have forgotten that this-” she emphasized with a sharp point at the parlor “-is his work. His job. He doesn’t deserve you pestering him here of all places. Just do what everyone else does and fucking ask him out to coffee.”

Feeling slightly chastised as only Robin could do, he looked down at the scuffs on his work boots and muttered, “Yeah, whatever.”

Finally satisfied, she continued their walk to The Mind Flayer Tattoo and Piercings Shop, Billy trailing two steps behind her.

The little bell tinkled again as the door opened, but this time Steve wasn’t at the front desk. Instead a tan woman with long, curly, dark hair was popping bubble gum and casually scrolling through her iPhone. All of the frustration seemed to seep out of Robin at once as she squealed, “Heather!” and launched herself at the girl behind the desk.

Letting Robin and Heather do their thing, Billy wandered over to where he could see the top of Steve’s head peeking over the low wall of his work station. He could see that all of his focus was on a drawing pad, where he was carefully sketching out something in pencil. He was so in the zone that the tip of his tongue was poking through his teeth. Cute.

Loath as he was to break the peace on Steve’s face, he cleared his throat and called out, “Hey Harrington.”

Steve, predictably, shot up out of his chair and whirled around to face Billy. “Jesus Christ Billy. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, amigo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What, no Pretty Boy?” Steve spit out as he tried to recoup from being startled. The tone brought back the sense of shame Robin had made him feel earlier, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“No, um,” he tried to start. “Actually, I’m here to ask if we could get a cup of joe? Talk some shit out?” Steve seemed startled by the proposal, but masked it with a suspicious glare.

“Is this some kind of joke? You want to get coffee?”

“Yeah. I want to- want to explain I guess.” Steve continued to glare at him, but after finding or not finding something, he nodded his head and sighed.

“Fine. Fuck it. You were my last appointment, so why the hell not.” Billy blinked, surprised that it had somehow been that easy to get Steve to agree. Maybe they could work it out, at least enough to be friends again.

He decided to wait in the front area while Steve packed up his station and grabbed his bag from the back room, nodding at Heather and Robin when they left.

They mutually agreed to walk the block down to a local coffee shop, called Joe’s Joe. Billy got a black iced coffee while Steve got a complexe medley of coffee, oat milk, and sugar. After they got their drinks, they sat at a table by the window.

“Do you want to start?” Steve asked.

“I mean, I guess. That’s kind of why we’re here or whatever.” Billy hadn’t wanted to start out hostile, but his nerves were starting to get the best of him. He took a swig of his coffee, letting the scalding heat coat his tongue. “Just, I’m sorry I guess.”

“You’re sorry?” Steve asked indignantly, “For what? Fucking with me for an entire summer? Leaving without a single fucking word? Or just being an all around asshole?”

“Technically, I was fucking you, not fucking with you,” Billy corrected absentmindedly, before wincing as Steve’s expression grew even more hostile. “Shit, I’m sorry. For- for everything alright? I was a dickhead, I shouldn’t have left but you have to underst-”

“I don’t have to do shit, Hargrove,” Steve interrupted.

“No, you have to understand that I didn’t have a choice. I packed up and left in the span of like four hours. There wasn’t time to tell you.”

“There wasn’t time to send a fucking text? Call? Something? I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere. I had to find out from Max that you just pissed off to who knows where in the middle of the goddamn night. And you couldn’t bother to send anything? It’s been eight fucking years jackass.” Steve was almost yelling by the end of his rant, panting and visibly trying to calm himself down.

“It didn’t seem like something to send over text, I just figured it was better to do a clean break. Let you move on.”

“Let me- Fucking hell, you let me move on?” Steve was borderline hysterical at this point. Billy wasn’t sure when he had lost control of the conversation so drastically, but he felt the chances of him and Steve rekindling some sort of friendship slipping away. This wasn’t how he wanted to do this at all. Fuck.

“Yeah, because you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like me, Pretty Boy. I’m sorry I hurt you but I was stupid and young and I didn’t see any better way to do it.”

“You fucking broke my heart Billy. You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that,” Steve said, and walked out of the coffee shop.

6. Billy Does Better

After the disastrous coffee date, Billy steered clear of everything to do with The Mind Flayer, including Robin. He buried himself in his work, doubled his gym hours, and let the weekends pass by in a haze of cheap whiskey.

It took Robin a week to decide she was over him avoiding her. She stormed into his apartment on Sunday morning and forced him to take a shower, put on clean clothes and go with her to her apartment.

Once there, she sat him down on the couch and told him in the sternest voice she had to stay, and then left him to go let in someone else. He really shouldn’t have been surprised at who it was, but he still blinked rapidly when Steve appeared in the doorway.

“Am I dreaming, or is that you Harrington?” Billy asked, his voice hoarse from the lack of water he had drank in the past 48 hours.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” If Billy sounded hungover, Steve sounded wrecked. He looked like it too, eyes rimmed red and puffy, lips chapped and bitten within an inch of their soft, plush life, and skin even paler than it usually was. Robin dragged him by the back of his shirt over to the couch, next to Billy, and pushed him down.

“Alright. I tried to give you two assholes space to work it out yourselves, but I am officially over it, so you’re going to figure it out here and now. I’m going to go in the kitchen to make lunch and when I get back, I expect you both to at least stop moping like fucking widows.” She turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen, where she could give them some semblance of privacy, but would still be within ear shot if they decided to kill each other or something.

Once she disappeared through the doorway, Billy turned hesitantly to face Steve, but when they made eye contact, any words he may have managed to string together left him and he was left there gaping like a fish. Steve saved him the trouble of starting though.

“You were moping?” He asked, voice quiet and defeated.

“Yeah, Bambi. Pretty heavily too if Robin had to step in.”

“What were you so upset about? You broke my heart after all.”

“Because I never meant to. I only meant to break my own damn heart, but not yours. Never yours Pretty Boy,” Billy’s voice was dripping in honesty and vulnerability, the dredges of alcohol still in his system making this entire situation exhausting. He just wanted to go back home and sleep until tomorrow.

“You- you loved me too?” Steve sounded so damn unsure, it hurt Billy to hear.

“Yeah, of course I loved you. That’s why I had to leave. I couldn’t love you and be under Neil’s roof. He would kill me. He would kill you. So I had to leave.”

“A clean break,” Steve finished for him. He didn’t sound as angry as he had at the coffee shop, more defeated.

“Exactly.”

They sat in silence for a few moments that seemed to stretch on for eternity before Steve finally broke it.

“So, where does that leave us?”

“Can we, can we try friends?” Billy asked hesitantly, eager for any opportunity but scared to push his luck.

“Yeah. I think that could work,” he said with a faint smile. As if on cue, Robin burst through the kitchen door armed with a plate of sandwiches and snacks and declared it a movie night.

7. Steve Takes A Leap

It had been two months since Robin’s forced intervention, and Steve couldn’t have been more thankful towards her. He had been scared that having Billy back in his life would drag up the memories he tried so hard to hide from, but it was actually refreshing to have someone to call when the memories came back, someone who understood what he was going through.

He also realized how much he genuinely missed Billy himself. He had grown and changed for sure, but it was only in that he was far less angry all the damn time. Steve had really come to realize just how intense the hold Neil Hargrove had over his son in high school. Now the sharp wit Billy had wielded as a weapon in high school was more playful than hurtful, and his more self-destructive tendencies of driving recklessly and chain-smoking had been replaced by a gym membership and therapy. Apparently, Billy had gone through a lot of therapy.

With all of the changes, he realized that it was just that much easier to find the Billy he had fallen in love with all those years ago. He had started recognizing the feelings a month into their rekindled friendship, but he waited for another month to make sure the spark was still there, that it wasn’t just him romanticising the past. They had added each other on snapchat and had even started a streak. It was at a solid 55 days that Steve finally made his move.

It was a simple snap of his work station with the caption What are you doing Saturday night?

Not even two minutes later he got a response. The picture was of Billy’s coffee mug he kept at his desk and said Nothing, wbu?

He snapped another hasty shot of his station, replied, Thinking about going out. Wanna join?

Another notification, another shot of his mug. “ Sure. What’s the plan?”

He was in the middle of prepping his station for an appointment in twenty minutes, so it was a quick shot of sterile packaging. Dinner and then hit up a club I know in Boystown?

This time the response was immediate. Sounds good.

Cool, I’ll make a reservation for six? Then club at like 8?

Why do we need a reservation? Want to spoil little old me, Pretty Boy?

The old nickname gave Steve the courage he needed to finally take a selfie and stop beating around the bush. He gave the camera an impish grin and raised eyebrows. I just want to make our first date memorable.

There was no response to that. Steve waited with bated breath, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as the minutes ticked by. His appointment had shown up, and he finished the 45 minute session. Still no response.

Anxiety coursed through him, swirling around in his head. He could see that Billy had opened the picture as soon as he had sent it, a whole hour ago. But no response. No notifications. Nothing.

Steve tried to reason with himself that maybe he had a meeting or a lot of paperwork or something, but that didn’t stop him from bouncing his leg and fidgeting around until Robin finished her final appointment.

She only needed to look at him once to know something was up. She decided they were going to dinner together, and they walked to the diner three blocks down in silence.

It wasn’t until they had sent in their orders that Robin finally broke.

“Okay, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you this nervous since your first date with Julian,” she stated.

“I might have fucked up Robin. Like big time.” She sighed, used to Steve’s dramatic tendencies, and sipped at her strawberry milkshake.

“I doubt that, but I need more information. So spill.”

“I asked Billy on a date,” he blurted out, knowing there was no use in bullshitting Robin.

“And? Seems like a logical move, Dingus. I was getting sick of the intense pinning like ten days ago.”

“But, he left me on read Robin. We were talking about going out on Saturday and then I mentioned it was a date and boom. Radio silence.”

“Okay, chill out. He was probably busy at work. You know how seriously he takes that shit.”

“Yeah, but no response for three hours?” He said, voice raising in pitch on the last words.

“I’m sure there’s some explanation. Have you reached out again?” Robin’s patient and even tone calmed Steve down a little, but his leg still bounced up and down rapidly as he thought over what she said.

“No. I didn’t want to pressure him.”

“Just send something unrelated to the date. Like your milkshake. You’ve done it a million times, it’s safe.”

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” He nodded to himself before pulling out his phone, only to see a single snapchat notification amongst the barrage of emails and other random updates. It was from Billy.

He immediately felt his heart leap into his throat, and Robin reached over to grab his hand that was still resting on the table.

“Is it from him?” She questioned, deliberately neutral.

“Yep,” he choked out. His finger shook as he opened up his phone, and he felt paralized by the little blue box letting him know it was a text response. He took a deep breath before clicking on it.

Sorry I was MIA, Pretty Boy. Got busy with work, but I’d love to see where you want to take me. He included a winking and smirking emoji. Steve let out a startled laugh as the anxiety slowly dissipated.

“Code red officially over. I have a date on Saturday,” he informed Robin, and they finished up dinner with casual conversation about their various appointments throughout the day. They paid and eventually parted ways towards their respective apartments.

He trudged up the stairs because the elevator in his building was perpetually broken, but stopped in his tracks when his door got within view. There, resting innocently on his doormat, was a simple bouquet of sunflowers and baby’s breath. He gently picked them up and noticed a small piece of cardstock. In simple black scratch it read I am sorry for the no response. I got nervous. Bill.

Steve smiled gently at the note and pulled the flowers close to smell the soft fragrance they held. He felt another wave of confidence swell and push him to walk into the apartment and pick up his phone. He called Billy and waited in excited anticipation for him to pick up.

“I love them,” he said, and smiled a little more when Billy chuckled.

“I’m glad. They made me think of you.”

“Can’t wait for Saturday,” Steve confessed and Billy finally smiled back.

“Me too, Pretty Boy. Feels like it’s been years in the making.”

That it had been, but man had it been worth the wait.

----

tag team: @lostnoise @gideongrace @stevefuckingharrington @a-magey @trashmouth-hargrove @catharrington (lmk if you would like to be added/removed from the list!)

#harringrove for blm #harringrove #a dash of #bucklway #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #pining!billy hargrove #billy hargrove centric #billy hargrove #steve harrington #tay writes #holy shit #i think this is the longest thing I've ever written #minus lost boys

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strawberryjmilk · 5 years

Text

ace of spades! | lee minho

word count: 5032

a small warning that this imagine is steamy, but contains no smut! asexual!reader, fuckboy!minho

"Don't do it," a voice spoke up. You resisted the urge to groan, rolling your eyes instead. Hands were placed firmly on your shoulders, eyebrows drawn into a stern furrow as he looked at you. "I'm serious, Y/N. I know this guy. He's nice, sure, but he's a... heartbreaker."

You sighed, looking at your best friend, annoyed. "I don't care, Chan. I can't spend my entire life living on your couch. Besides, a flirty boy isn't a problem for me, and you know it."

Chan pouted, pulling you closer so he could hug you. After knowing him for so many years, you'd grown used to his constant attention and affections. His voice was muffled slightly as he spoke, "I know. But about the couch thing — you could."

"I am not living on your couch, Bang Chan," you snorted. The curly-haired boy pulled away, pout still lingering on his lips as he looked at you. You fought the grin that was trying to form on your lips — you would not give into his puppy eyes!

"What's so bad about living with me, Y/N?" Chan asked. His voice was offended, but with the playful gleam coloring his eyes, you knew he was only kidding. "We could be bff's forever — or whatever it is the kids say these days."

You only sighed, shaking your head. "Oh, geez. That's why, Chan."

"I'm even more offended now, you gremlin!"

—

You stood in front of the apartment building, assessing it slowly. The building itself was a light beige, and it only had about four stories. You really hoped you weren't living on the top floor — the ground always seemed to tremble that high up.

With a breath of encouragement, you walked into the lobby where you were going to meet your — hopefully — new roommate. You licked your lips as you opened the door, eyes scouring the area to look for the boy.

You didn't know much about Lee Minho. You knew his hair was light brown, and that he somehow resembled an annoyed house cat. With Chan's description, you only knew Minho was flirty and not shy about it in the slightest.

You didn't know much — but, you knew the man swaggering up to you was not Lee Minho.

"Hi," the man drawled out. You merely smiled, trying to ignore him in the politest way possible. The stranger moved closer, hands hidden in his pockets. He tilted his head coyly. "Oh, c'mon. Not even a little hello?"

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly. Geez, can I breathe for a second? Opening your eyes, you cleared your throat, not even looking at the man. You knew his motive — knew he was making advances. Still, your voice was polite, "not interested."

"Oh? Why's that?" His voice was patronizing, as if he was talking to a child. His head was still tilted, his smirk being covered by a purse of his lips. He really is acting like I'm a child — what an anus.

"You're not my type," you tried to stay polite. Still facing forward, your eyes danced around the apartment lobby. No one was looking at you — though, a boy was glancing your way with furrowed eyebrows.

The man chuckled, inching a little closer. One more step and his shoulder would be brushing against yours. The thought made your lip curl. "What's your type, then?"

Your smile turned sarcastic. Some people were just too pushy. You looked him up and down slowly before pouting at him mockingly. "Attractive."

In an instant, the man began to snarl. His hands escaped his pockets and you could see they were curled into fists. Eyes narrowed in slits, the stranger began to glare at you.

Seems like someone can't handle rejection, you thought in amusement. You weren't scared — you knew everyone's weak spot was settled between their thighs. One wrong move, and you wouldn't hesitate to knee him.

Someone else was beside you now — someone new. The boy had light brown hair and a small crinkle between his eyebrows as he looked between you and the man. He stepped in front of you, acting as a shield. "Is there a problem here?"

At the sight of someone else, the man from before backed off. That annoyed you — you could've taken control of the situation. With his hands held up in defense, the strange man left.

You looked to the light haired boy. His gaze was still on the man, making sure he was actually leaving. Feeling your almost-glare settled on him, he turned. An eyebrow raised in question, and you opened your mouth without thinking. "I was handling that pretty well."

"A decent thank you would've been enough," the boy said with a snort.

You glared even more, eyes narrowing into small slits. Really — really — you should think before you speak. But, that was a habit you didn't have. So, you couldn't control what came out of your mouth next.

"What? You want me to get on my knees and call you daddy?"

The sentence lingered, being eaten away by silence. Your stance was firm — arms crossed, sneer still painting your face. You held no embarrassment for what you said, and that seemed to make the boy grin.

"You must be Y/N," he spoke with a grin. He laughed a little, shaking his head and looking down to the floor. "Chan warned me about your smart mouth, but I didn't think it was this bad. I'm Minho."

You scrunched your nose, relaxing slightly. Minho had a playboy grin and a teasing aura that seemed to surround him. Chan was right, you thought. This boy is a heartbreaker.

"Well, Minho," you said his name as if it was sour. He only grinned further. "I'd like to see the apartment. Please."

You only said the 'please' as an afterthought. You didn't want to be nice to this boy. But, Chan always made sure you were at least a little polite — as mentioned, your mouth frequently caused trouble for you.

Minho's grin never faded as he began to lead you to the left. "I think we're going to have an excellent time together, Y/N."

—

A week or so had passed since you moved in with Minho. It wasn't as chaotic as you expected — though, his friend Jisung was a little loud sometimes. And your neighbor across the hall, Seungmin, always glared when you passed by him — Minho glared back, so you just left it alone.

You resided on the first floor and you couldn't have been happier. You liked to sit in the living room and look out of the large window because it held a view of the dog park your apartment had. You would convince Chan to bring his puppy to visit — eventually.

"I'm going out," Minho called. You were in the kitchen, every cabinet door open as you searched for something to snack on. You turned to look at Minho, your lips pursed like a fish in boredom. He looked up from the shirt he was buttoning up, grinning at you. "Cute, Y/N. I'll see you later, okay? Keep the door locked and only open the door if it's me!"

Your teeth unlatched from your lips, making a small pop. Your face was a monotone as your voice as you stared at Minho. "You've got it, mom."

Minho rolled his eyes, waving as he opened the door. He paused before turning to face you. You raised an eyebrow raised in confusion — until Minho blew you a kiss, that is. His laugh lingered, even after he shut the door.

Hours passed until it was pitch black outside and nearing the one a.m. mark. Keys jingled outside, a slight scratch coming from behind the door accompanied with a giggle. A giggle you knew too well. You rolled your eyes and continued to eat your ice cream, eyes glued to the tv screen.

Minho stumbled in, hair messy and the smell of alcohol ingrained in his clothes. You sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

He didn't drink — no. Minho just liked to be surrounded by people who did. He liked to be in the limelight; liked to be in the middle of smoke-clouds and dancing crowds. Living with Minho allowed you to witness just how much he liked being in his type of euphoria.

"Y/N!" Minho cheered once he caught sight of you. He clumsily shut the door before walking to where you were, plopping on the couch beside you. He sighed, placing his head in your lap. Making a small noise of confusion, Minho raised his head to look at your legs.

Your bare legs.

The shirt you were wearing was quite large on your frame. You couldn't remember if you bought it big on purpose, or if you stole it from Chan. You raised an eyebrow at Minho's smirk. He turned onto his stomach, setting his chin into the palm of his hands as he put his weight on his elbows.

"You know, Y/N," Minho licked his lips, almost purring at your name. He paused, looking at you from underneath his eyelashes. You only ate another spoonful of ice cream. "You're really hot. Like — really, really hot. Are you even wearing pants?"

"No," you said honestly. Minho's grin grew as the excitement in his eyes became more prominent. You kicked your leg up, allowing the shirt you were wearing to slide down more. "I'm wearing shorts."

Minho pouted. "You got me excited there for a minute. What a shame — we could have a lot of fun together, Y/N."

"Oh, geez," you mumbled. You cleared your throat, looking at Minho almost apologetically. "That isn't going to happen, pal. It's not just you, either — it's not happening with anyone."

This seemed to intrigue Minho as he straightened up, now using his hands to hold his body up. Looks like he's in a yoga position, you grinned to yourself.

"What?" It was a whispered shriek. Minho leaned in closer, his breath fluttering against your nose — you scrunched your nose in response. "You mean you don't get horny? Like, you don't see someone and you're like damn, what I would do to them!"

You shook your head, "nope. More like I can see how attractive they are, but that's it. I don't want to suck anyone's nipple or anything."

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N," Minho tsked, shaking his head. "One does not simply suck on a nipple. Aside from that, I have an excellent idea!"

"Doubtful."

"Ignoring that!" Minho sat up straight now, his gaze dancing across your legs before meeting your eyes. "I want to see if I can turn you on — can I do that? You can say no! I've just never met anyone that's not interested in sex."

"It's not just sex," you shrugged. You thought it was normal to look at someone and not want to drop to your knees. Truly, you did wait for the urges to hit — they never did. "It's kind of everything about it — the before, after and during. Grosses me out, I think."

Minho pursed his lips, thinking his idea through. He hummed after a few minutes, seeming to have finally made a decision. "Okay, here's the deal. Any time I make you uncomfortable, all bets are off and you can knee me in the stomach. Otherwise, we see what your limits are."

"I already know my limit," you spoke. You snapped your fingers, aiming two finger guns his way. "It's zero."

Minho laughed softly, smile falling from his usual smirk and to a tilt of his lips that was somehow gentle. "You won't know until you try, right?"

You shrugged again. You hadn't tried anything, you just knew you didn't feel the 'normal' feelings you were supposed to feel when attracted to someone.

"Why not?" You sighed out.

"Great," Minho grinned again. This smile, though, held a mischievousness that matched the gleam in his eye. Minho glanced at your legs again before bidding you a goodnight.

You were already regretting your agreement.

—

The first time Minho advanced on you was almost your fault entirely. You had walked into his room, holding a bag of popcorn in confusion. What does the watt measurement have to do with cooking popcorn?

Sighing, you didn't allow your confused look to relax. You walked into Minho's room without knocking — a bad habit that should've been broken sooner. "Hey, Minho, do you know what wattage our microwave is?"

Silence. You finally looked up from the bag to see Minho in just a towel, because he just got out of the shower. He turned your way, hair a darker tint because of the water that still dripped down his body. Minho turned to face you fully, his bare torso in your view.

"Oh," you blinked. It was silent still — a kind of quiet that was slowly growing awkward. Minho started to grin, leisurely walking up to you with his left hand adjusting his towel tighter against his hips. "Sorry for intruding."

"No, it's fine," Minho spoke coyly. He stood in front of you now, heat radiating from his skin. Minho tilted his head, "what was it you needed, Y/N?"

Your nose scrunched — you didn't like the way he said your name like that. A purr almost; a seductive word that curled off of his tongue perfectly. You shrugged, "just need to know how long I need to cook the popcorn. I don't know the wattage of the microwave — I didn't think that mattered."

Minho was still grinning, the smile turning playful and sly. Licking his lips, Minho grabbed the popcorn bag from your hand, setting it on a nearby dresser. You watched silently, even allowing him to grab your wrists lightly.

"Can I try something?"

Oh. Oh. He wanted to play his little game — that's why he was acting so coy. You only shrugged, allowing him to do whatever. All you had to do was say stop — you trusted that Minho would.

"Okay," he bit his lip. He grabbed your hands, placing them on his bare shoulders before dragging them down his torso slowly. Your fingertips brushed over his skin, his eyes fluttering shut. "Anything?"

"Nope," you spoke. Pausing, you made a noise that sounded like a snort. "I just touched your nipple."

"Y/N, please stop giggling, I'm trying to turn you on."

You only shrugged with a grin, fingertips still brushing over every indent of Minho's chest. "Well, it's obviously not working. Nice pecks, though."

Minho let out a laugh at your comment. He took your hands from his body, but still held them in his own hands. He turned them so that your fingers laced with his. He was still smirking when he spoke, "physical contact is a no-go, I assume?"

"Guess so," you sighed out. You stood there, just holding hands until you caught sight of your abandoned popcorn bag. You met Minho's gaze again — it seemed gentle as he glanced down to your laced hands. "Wanna have a movie night?"

"Just let me get dressed!" Minho grinned. He pulled away before pausing and turning to face you again. He spoke with a little wiggle to his eyebrows, "unless you don't want me to."

You waved his comment off, grabbing the popcorn bag. "Do what you want — don't complain if you get sick, though!"

Minho only laughed, making you smile.

—

Being alone with Minho was difficult now. He tried everything he could to get you flustered — you only grimaced when he stayed in your personal space a little longer than you liked. Feeling his arms around you was so familiar now — it was odd to go a day without holding hands or having Minho's arm around your waist.

He didn't kiss you, though. Minho swore this thing — this game — was strictly platonic. To keep it that way, he didn't kiss you.

Not that you wanted him to. Not yet, at least.

You were humming to yourself, legs swinging in time with the beat that played throughout your apartment. You were sat on the counter of the kitchen, answering Chan's texts because he got a little too worried when you ignored him.

And then, someone was parting your legs so he could slide between them. You glanced up, smiling briefly at Minho before looking back to your phone. Minho pursed his lips sourly — he wanted your attention.

"How does this feel?" Minho's voice was quiet as he slid his hands up your thighs, leaving his fingers to firmly wrap around the top of them. His thumbs were rubbing across your legs slowly, inching dangerously close to a very off-limits place.

You paused your texting, adjusting his hands so they weren't so close. You stilled, allowing Minho's hands to dance around your bare legs. I should really stop wearing shorts around this boy, you thought.

A pinch to your thigh is what grabbed your attention. Minho was looking at you with a pout, upset you lost yourself in your thoughts and away from him. You hummed before answering his question.

"Warm. Comfortable," you trailed off. Minho slid one hand up further, latching it onto your hip. His thumb dipped under your shirt, now brushing against your bare hip. "Familiar."

"Nothing bad at all?" Minho asked with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head, finally setting your phone down to give him your full attention. "Feels nice, actually. Comforting, in a way. Like a blanket fresh out of the dryer."

Minho beamed at that, squeezing your thigh lightly. "So, like cuddling? Skin-to-skin contact is a no for a turn-on but a yes for any other time."

"Sounds about right," you nodded. Minho's hands continued to brush against your hip and thigh, warming you up without trying to. You peeked at him, watching as he bit his lip, his gaze locked on where his hand was touching your skin.

"What if I moaned?" Minho spoke up after a while.

You grimaced immediately. Minho smiled softly, taking his hand from your hip to poke your scrunched up nose. "Please don't."

Minho took a moment to look you over. His hand squeezed your thigh again, looking up at you curiously. You thought it over briefly — what's the worst that could happen? You met Minho's eyes, giving a minuscule nod.

He leaned in quickly, lips attaching to your neck softly and sensually. His mouth was open, tongue poking out every now-and-then. It gave you chills, you'll admit. But, more in the ew don't like that way than a yes do that way.

"Anything?" Minho's voice was breathy as he paused his lips against your neck. You smiled awkwardly — I still don't get it. Minho continued to trail small kisses up and down your neck as you tried to feel something — anything.

Eventually, you sighed with a small shake of your head. "You're making my neck sticky, it's kinda gross."

Minho let out a breathy laugh, warmth spreading where his mouth was. Opening his mouth more, he moaned lowly. He trailed his lips up so he was settled near your ear. Then he moaned again.

"Ah, geez, yikes," you cringed. Minho pulled away immediately. He raised his eyebrows, asking his question silently. "I don't mind the kisses. They feel nice, but they don't get me going or anything. The noises are a definite no, though."

Hesitation swirled in Minho's eyes as he looked at you. Slowly — just in case you objected — Minho locked your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His own hands settled on your hips, fingers splayed out so he was holding as much of you as he could.

"Does that mean I can kiss you whenever I want to?" The room fell silent and Minho tightened his hold on you. Your eyes were hazy as they wouldn't meet his gaze — what did that mean? Minho's voice was delicate as he spoke again, "Y/N?"

You licked your lips because they suddenly felt dry and your throat suddenly felt parched. What did that mean? What does that mean? What happens to this? What happens to us? You blinked, realizing you were staring at nothing and your eyes were going dry. "Yeah. If you want to."

"Do you want me to, though?" Minho corrected naturally. He gave your hips a squeeze, reminding you that your hands hand curled into fists on the back of his neck. "My feelings or wants don't matter here, Y/N. Yours do. It's all up to you."

"Yeah," your voice was airy and you still wouldn't look at him. "Yeah, you can kiss me."

Minho only kissed your cheeks after that, sending you off to bed. You were thankful that he didn't push you — thankful he allowed you to think it over. You turned over in your bed, hand reaching up to brush over your neck lightly.

What does this mean? What does this mean? What does this mean? You buried your face in your pillow, forcing your brain off and forcing your eyes to close.

—

Minho latched onto you after that. Before, he merely held your hand or waist. Now, though, his face was always in your neck or his hand was constantly clutched to one of your thighs.

You weren't as uncomfortable as you originally thought you'd be. A sense of warmth shot through your body when Minho held you. You'd told him before that his touch was familiar, and that still stood.

He still hadn't kissed you, though. At this rate, you were keeping note of how long it took for him to push his lips against yours. You felt like the lovesick protagonist of some cheesy movie as you waited for him to make a move.

"Y/N!" a voice sang. Minho barged into your room, jumping belly first onto your bed. He turned so he was facing you, a grin etched onto his face. You smiled back, watching as Minho scooted closer to you. He was leaning on his elbow, perched up so he could see you, his free arm laying on your waist.

You received a kiss to the cheek that was a little too close to your lips and that lingered a little too long. You looked up at the boy from where you lay comfortably, "what's up?"

"Dunno," Minho shrugged. He scooted closer, nose nuzzling into your neck. He let out a sigh before he began to leave little kisses on your neck. You tilted your head so he would have more room, earning a grin you could feel against your skin. "Just wanted to be near you."

"Sounds like you have a crush on me," you snorted. Your voice was teasing, a joking note wrapped around your words. But, you hoped they were true. Deep down, you wanted them to be true — way, way deep down!

Minho hummed against your neck — you could still feel his crooked grin as he continued to trail kisses around your throat. "Maybe I do."

A few times, Minho had somehow convinced you to browse sex shops with him. Online, of course — you couldn't think of why you would actually need to go to one. He would point things out and tell you what people liked to do with them.

You tensed up and recoiled away from him each time.

That's what Minho what doing now — scrolling through his phone as if he hadn't just kind-of-sort-of confessed to you. Both of his arms were wrapped around you now as your head laid against his chest, watching as he passed through different forms of entertainment.

"Don't like that — ew, people like that?" You broke the silence. You looked up at Minho, face scrunched up in mild disgust. He let out a little giggle at your facial expression.

"Stop kink-shaming everyone, Y/N!" Minho declared as you wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling closer to him.

Kind-of a confession is still a confession, right?

—

You sighed as you wrapped a towel around your body, breathing in the steam that lingered from the shower. Running a towel through your hair, you opened the bathroom door. Minho was still sprawled across your bed — he perked up once he realized you'd returned.

Minho's eyes trailed up your legs, dancing to your arms, and watching water droplets fall from your skin. He sat up slowly, scooting to the edge of the bed so his feet sat flat on the floor. His lips were parted, breathing in the scent of your body wash.

You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion — why was he looking at you like that? You tousled your hair with the extra towel you held, helping it to dry quicker. A thought popped into your mind, causing a devious grin to form.

"Hey, Minho," you broke him from his trance. Minho blinked, meeting your eyes with a smile. "Do you think I — the sex repulsed asexual — could turn someone on?"

"You?" He asked. His eyes trailed up and down your body slowly, not letting an inch go unseen. Licking his lips, he hummed and nodded. "Oh, yeah. You could definitely turn someone on."

You let out a small laugh, turning to grab a change of clothes. "Please don't pop a boner."

"Oh, my god, Y/N!" You heard Minho's voice echo as you went back into the bathroom to change. You grinned, imagining what was going through his head.

Your smile faded slowly, familiar questions still circling your mind. What does this mean? Was it a confession?

Fully dressed now, you hung up your towel so you could have room to brush your teeth. Pasting on the toothpaste, you smiled to the mirror to begin the tedious — yet necessary — task. The bathroom door creaked open, light brown hair popping in before you could see Minho's face.

He slithered in behind you, arms locking around your waist comfortably as his chin sat on your shoulder. When he caught your attention in the mirror, he would only beam at you gently before kissing some part of you. Whether it was your cheek, neck, or nose — Minho had made those few minutes seem to last.

"Okay," you spoke once your teeth were clean. You turned in Minho's arms, facing him with a small smirk. He returned the gesture, pulling you closer. "What should we do tonight? Movie? Karaoke? Or should we just sleep?"

Minho's eyes lit up at that and he stood a little straighter. "You want me to sleep with you, Y/N?"

"Do you not want to cuddle?" You counteracted with a frown. So I want a cute boy to hold me all night — sue me! Without acknowledging his answer, you escaped his arms and walked to your bed. Puffing out your cheeks, you exhaled slowly as you sat on your bed.

Socked feet were in your vision and suddenly a hand was on your chin, lifting it so you had no choice but to look at Minho. He was frowning, too, a small line of wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. His voice was a whisper, "don't overthink this, Y/N."

"That's all I've been doing," you admitted. You moved your chin from his hold, looking back to the ground. "Since you asked if you could kiss me. Is it — is this more than I think it is, or is it still a game to you? Do you want it to be more? Do I want it to be more? I haven't really thought about anything else."

Gradually, you moved further from the edge of the bed until you were sitting in the middle of it. Minho followed your movements, not letting his eyes leave you. Slowly — so achingly, painfully slow — Minho came closer and closer, caging you in.

Minho's hands were on either side of your head as you lay flat, looking up at him. He was hovering above you, a serious expression painted on his face. Finally, he spoke. "It's so much more, Y/N. Don't overthink it — you deserve the world. And, I want to give it to you."

Lips were on yours then, preventing you from speaking. Your eyes widened before sliding shut, melting into Minho completely. Your arms had somehow wrapped around him as he held your jaw with one hand, the other keeping him from falling on you.

You parted from him lazily, eyes still half-lidded as you looked up at him. Small movements captured your attention, though your mind was still hazy and fuzzy. Your hands had moved to where they were above you, and legs were on either side of your hips. Your mind finally caught up with you.

Minho was still on top of you, just gazing at you affectionately. It was odd — you thought it would've been sexual. Everything you did lately was sexual, whether you felt that way or not. And, having him hold your hands above your head as he straddled you was the definition of sexual.

Bending down slowly, his lips trailed across your neck. It'd become comfortable now, a familiar feeling of his lips pecking your jawline. Humming, he trailed up to your ear. "Like that?"

You snorted. Sighing, he leaned away from you with a glare. But, it wasn't hateful — he expected this from you by now. More playful, with his fond smile growing.

"Now why are you laughing?"

"Nothing, it's just—" you pitched your voice in a strange way, wiggling your eyebrows with every word you spoke. "You like it when I do that, big boy?"

He laughed with you now, the room full of giggles. His head was back in your neck, warm breath puffing out with every giggle he released. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned back slowly.

"I really adore you, Y/N," Minho said softly. He nudged his forehead against yours, noses brushing together in a brief bunny kiss. "Don't forget that, okay? I like you, Y/N, a lot. This isn't a stupid game or anything. Got it?"

You only grinned, "shut up and kiss me."

How could he say no to that?

— happy pride month! she says 400 days late smh i know some people dont count asexuality in the community, but i do! i also know not every ace feels the same way, but i hope i represented it well! i hope you enjoyed this - thank you for reading, ♡

363 notes · View notes

have-each-others-six · 5 years

Text

face to the wind, eyes to the sun (pt. six)

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

okay, so i lied a lil bit.

you will have THREE parts today, and an epilogue tomorrow.

i am not good at creating an outline for things, apparently.

also that megasix today. wow. my soul hurts but also feels rejuvenated somehow.

***

one.

Catherine of Aragon doesn’t believe in bargaining.

She never really has.

The idea of desperately offering everything you own in exchange for something else seems foolish, not to mention illogical. The value of what you’re giving away far outpaces what you’re receiving.

Even when Henry had come into their bedroom one night and announced he was going to divorce her for Anne, she hadn’t bargained. She’d argued, of course she had. She’d asked him over and over why he was doing this as they stood in their nightclothes, yelling at one another, but she hadn’t offered him anything so that he might let her stay. Maybe she should have, but she didn’t.

Now, though?

Now, she’s standing downstairs, waiting for the rest of the queens so that they can leave for their last show ever before they all die. Again. And she finds herself wanting to promise anything, anything, so that they can live.

She’s beginning to think it might not be so illogical after all to give everything up for the people you love.

Anna comes down the stairs, her crown a little askew and her eyes clearly red from crying.

“Hey, Cleves,” Aragon says, fiddling with the cap on her waterbottle.

Anna looks startled for a moment before composing herself. “Hey,” she replies nonchalantly.

Out of all the queens, Anna is probably the one who Aragon knows the least. The other queens would probably say the same, actually.

There’s a barrier there. Aragon doesn’t fully know why. Most of them were wary around each other for the first few weeks, but their common experiences brought them together and they soon started to make connections.

Anna has always been funny, been comforting when people needed comfort and given space when they didn’t, been strong and kind and understanding.

But, for the most part, she’s alone. She tends not to talk about things that are hurting her, even when Aragon can tell it’s eating her alive to hide her feelings.

She never asked about any of it because it didn’t seem like the right time. But since now there’s almost no time at all, this seems like her only option.

Aragon weighs the choices and makes her decision.

“Anna?”

“Yeah, babes?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Anna looks surprised for just a second, but she covers it quickly and shrugs. “Nah,” she answers nonchalantly. “I feel like discussing my death’ll be a bit dark, yeah?”

“Sometimes talking about the dark things can help,” Aragon offers. “I know it helped me.”

That draws the ghost of a smile out of Anna, like the idea of sharing her feelings is almost laughable. “I’ve tried that whole feelings thing before,” she says grimly. “Didn’t work out too well.”

Aragon can infer based on the set of her jaw and the way her eyes unfocus slightly that she’s talking about Henry, and this time she chooses not to ask. She takes Anna’s waterbottle and hands it to her, trying to silently communicate her support.

Anne comes down the stairs in a whirlwind, carrying a completely open backpack with the main pocket flapping open, her arms full of books and bags of food and charging cords for her phone and her barrettes and her flats for after the show.

Aragon’s yelled at Anne for forever to clean up after herself, to be more organized, to not run down the stairs holding a million things at once, but the routine of Anne coming down a few minutes late in a state of chaos is oddly comforting in the slowly mounting dread that’s starting to surround them, and she finds herself relaxing at the sight of Anne’s mess.

The rest of the queens join them soon enough, and Aragon herds them all into the car. She’s driving tonight. She needs to have control over at least one aspect of what’s happening, or else she’s going to lose her mind. She’s powerless against this curse, whatever it is.

It’s eerily silent when they pull onto the road. Anne and Katherine aren’t screaming the lyrics to some new song that comes on the radio, Jane and Anna aren’t running through a checklist of necessities before the show, and Parr doesn’t have her nose in a book.

The air feels stiffer to Aragon somehow, like it takes more effort to get it into her lungs when she breathes in.

When Katherine speaks, it’s a relief, even if what she’s saying isn’t.

“I don’t want to die.”

It’s a statement more than anything else. Aragon can’t see her face in the dark, but she notices the way her voice quavers a little, and she can hear the now-recognizable rustling sound of Katherine fiddling with the skirt on her costume.

“Kit, it’ll be okay,” Cathy replies, but her own voice is far from confident. “This isn’t the end.”

“What if I forget you? What if I forget all of you?”

A shiver of panic runs through Aragon. She hadn’t even thought of that. What will happen when they’re sent back to the moment of their death? Will they still retain the memories of this life?

“That won’t happen, sweetheart,” Jane says, and it’s genuinely admirable how sure she sounds, because Aragon feels terror setting in. What if they do forget each other?

The theatre looks different when they drive up to the back. Normally, they would all breathe a collective sigh of relief, because this place is their safe haven. If they’re fighting, they set their differences aside once they enter the stage door. They can talk about things that matter here, let themselves be honest with each other, be silly and overexcited and real.

Now, it just represents everything they’re going to lose.

“We should go in,” Anna says, but it sounds reluctant, and the rest of them mumble a halfhearted assent.

Aragon knows how easy it would be not to say anything. She knows she could just walk into the greenroom, allow herself and everyone else to fall into a grave silence, and not discuss anything until after the show.

But she doesn’t do that. She puts her keys in her pocket and stands up, because she needs to be the strong one right now..

“We’re going out with a bang, ladies!” She’s shouting a little too loudly for the otherwise quiet street, but she’s far past caring. “This is our last show. I wish it wasn’t, but there’s nothing we can do about it, so we’re just going to have to throw our entire hearts and souls into this one. Forget about tonight. Forget about dying for seventy-five minutes. We’re going to do this, and we’re going to do it right.” She takes a breath. “So let’s go.”

Everybody looks a little taken aback, but Parr has a tiny smile on her face, and Aragon tries to memorize the way her goddaughter looks right now, affection filling her heart.

“All right then, Aragon,” Anne says, shock and a little bit of awe apparent in her expression. “Let’s fuckin’ go.”

With their heads held a little higher, the group of six walks into the theater.

It smells like dusty carpet and hairspray and takeout, each different smell evoking a different memory. Aragon fiddles with the cross necklace she always wears, trying to occupy her mind so she won’t have to think too hard about the reality of this performance.

“Warm-ups in five,” Anna calls out, poking her head out from the greenroom door, and the rest of the queens nod.

They all try to heed Aragon’s ultimatum from earlier, outrunning the fear in every way they can think of. They laugh harder than normal when someone slips up during tongue twisters, and go all out during physical warm-ups, hard enough that Aragon gets a little scared that somebody’s going to pull something.

Before she knows it, they’re standing in their places behind the curtain, and Aragon is so nervous she’s trembling. She’s always a little anxious when a show starts, but this is a new level, her heart pounding in her chest and her legs going numb.

She knows that she, Catherine of Aragon, can’t afford to be nervous. She never could.

When the spotlight flashes over her head, her voice cracks a little as she says ‘divorced’, but that’s the most she allows herself to show the audience of what’s happening inside her head.

For the first time, she wishes her song wasn’t first. She needs more time to prepare, she can’t do this, she can’t, she can’t-

She has to.

The queens start singing her intro line, and she jumps in half a beat early, but adjusts quickly. She concentrates on the words, finding solace in the familiar rhythms, the dance moves coming instinctively with the melody.

She lets her anger and her fear and her devastation bleed into her singing, and when she’s done, she is completely spent, emotionally exhausted from giving everything she has.

Aragon doesn’t really even process when Anne starts talking, so the over-the-top music cue for ‘Don’t Lose Ur Head’ startles her a bit.

She makes all the right facial expressions during Anne’s song, disgust and malice and frustration, but she can’t keep a smile off of her face as Anne throws her whole heart into singing, a warm affection filling her chest for this crazy gremlin of a girl.

In a million years, she never would have thought she’d forgive her for what she did, for tearing apart her marriage with seemingly no care at all.

From the beginning, Anne had apologized over and over again, but Aragon refused to yield. Forgiving the woman who destroyed her marriage felt like a surrender.

But she did, eventually. She doesn’t know exactly when it happened, only that one day she woke up and she wasn’t immediately incensed with anger at the thought of Anne.

Forgiveness is a funny thing. It doesn’t always happen like you expect it to.

While she’s lost in thought, Jane takes the stage, and the rest of the queens sit on the steps behind her.

Jane’s voice is unsteady, and there’s less of her normal emotional force present than just a broken mother, lost in the past.

Aragon can tell that the song isn’t about Edward tonight, though. Jane is clearly singing this song to Katherine, and when Aragon looks over, Katherine’s tears are glistening on her face, illuminated by the colorful stage lighting.

The song ends, they do their bit before Haus of Holbein, and then they release all of their pent-up crazy energy by jumping around the stage and employing their obnoxious German accents.

Too soon, it’s over, and Anna takes the stage.

Aragon notices that she’s not as devil-may-care and flippant as she normally is when she sings. There’s more of a cautious air to her movements, and her bragging in the song is definitely toned down.

The conversation from earlier flashes through her mind.

I’ve tried that whole feelings thing before, Anna had said. Didn’t work out too well.

To be completely honest, Aragon doesn’t think it’s working out for them now either. They’re all destroyed, each trying their best to appear put together for the audience and barely succeeding.

Aragon feels like she’s watching from an outside perspective throughout the rest of the show. When Kat breaks down completely after her song, crying brokenly as the lights fade, Aragon wonders how long it will be before they’re all in a similar situation, because heaven knows they’ve all come close today already.

Parr steps up after her dialogue to begin her song, and when she starts, it’s like something breaks, and Aragon feels the sudden need for a hug.

It’s odd. The other queens are more touchy-feely, needing contact and comfort to stay grounded and feel safe. But Aragon has never been that type of person. She’ll accept Katherine’s tackle-hugs, of course, and sometimes Cathy just needs someone to hold her and tell her it’ll be all right, so she does that too. But she doesn’t actually seek out hugging and closeness like the others.

Now, though, all she wants is someone to take her into their arms, because it feels like she’s been holding her breath for twenty-four hours and she needs someone to tell her that everything will be okay.

The show ends, and it feels incredibly anticlimactic. It’s the same confetti that they almost slip on, the same cheers from the audience, the same riffs from their ladies in waiting that they always hear.

But, suddenly, violently, everything shifts.

“London, we actually have an announcement for you,” Cathy says, and by the set of her jaw and barely concealed tears, the audience can tell that it isn’t good news.

“We can’t perform anymore,” Anne continues, almost robotically, trying not to cry herself, and Aragon winces at the gasp from the crowd.

“S-something’s, um, a conflict has made itself known and we won��t be able to do the show because of it,” Katherine states, trying to be stoic and failing miserably.

Aragon takes it upon herself to finish the delivery of the news. “The show’s closing. We wish we could explain more, but we can’t. We aren’t allowed. We’re sorry, really we are, but there’s nothing we can do.”

There’s nothing we can do.

There never has been, really.

The audience is silent, stunned by what they’ve just been told. Aragon knows their explanation isn’t enough, but it’s all they can give them without sounding crazy.

She’s ready to go offstage and say goodbye, but then someone starts talking.

“We love you,” Jane tells the audience. “So much. You have supported us every step of the way, and we can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done. You’ve truly been the best group of people any performers could ask to be in front of. And even though we have to say goodbye, we’ll never forget you. That’s a promise, okay? We love you,” she says again. “We love you all.”

The audience starts clapping, and then one by one they stand up, until the queens are looking at a huge crowd of people, with tears streaming down their faces and playbills clutched in their hands.

Aragon doesn’t care how much time is left. She just wants to stay here, forever, with these people, hearing their stories and telling her own.

But they have to leave, and so they do.

Walking out of the theatre for the last time is like leaving Spain all over again. Familiarity, home, family, all of it ripped away from her quicker than she can blink.

It feels a little like her heart is being strangled in her chest, like she can’t quite get enough breath in her lungs. It feels like when she’d had to leave Mary alone at court after Henry had divorced.

Her heart had well and truly broken then, when her smart, beautiful fifteen-year-old girl had looked at her with fear in her eyes after Henry had told her what was going to happen.

Mary had slowly walked over to her, clearly trying not to cry.

“Please don’t leave me, mum,” she’d whispered, and it nearly killed Aragon to see her daughter trying to be brave and not cry.

But she had left.

She didn’t have a choice.

She wrote letter after letter, trying to still be there for Mary even from far away, but eventually the replies stopped, and Aragon died a few years later.

The only silver lining in this whole situation is the fact that she might get to see Mary again when they’re sent back to their old lives.

She gets into the car and starts it, lost in thought about her girl’s bright smile and precocious little statements that made her laugh.

A tap on her shoulder brings her back to earth, and she turns to see Katherine, next to her in the passenger seat.

“We’re home,” she tells her, concern apparent in her voice, but Aragon shrugs it off. Her eyes catch on the electronic clock on the dashboard, and it’s 11:22.

Twenty-four minutes.

Katherine notices what she’s looking at and flinches. “That’s not a lot of time,” she says softly.

Aragon doesn’t say anything, she just stands up and heads inside, taking Katherine’s hand and leading her in. She knows she’ll sit frozen outside otherwise.

Leaving Kat with Jane, she heads to her bedroom, which looks very strange in the darkness all of a sudden.

She sits down on the bed, and then she starts to cry. She doesn’t really know a concrete reason for why she’s crying, actually, only that she can’t stop.

The lights are out, and she’s sitting up against the headboard, wiping away tears, when Anne walks in, holding a pillow to her chest.

“Can I-” she starts, and Aragon nods, pulling her legs to her chest as Anne curls up at the foot of the bed.

She looks cold, so Aragon pulls a spare blanket out from behind her pillow and lays it over her.

Someone taps lightly on the door, and Jane’s silhouette appears in the doorway, carrying a sleeping Katherine.

“She’s exhausted,” Jane mouths.

“Sit here, you can stay with her,” Aragon whispers back, grateful for the decision she’d made to splurge on a large bed when they’d appeared in this new time.

Jane gives her a grateful smile, although it’s hard to make out in the low light, and sits next to Aragon, holding Katherine close.

“Mama,” Katherine whimpers, wakened slightly by the change in position.

“Shhhh, sweet girl, Mama’s right here,” Jane soothes her, tucking a wayward piece of hair behind Kat’s ear.

“Having a cuddle party without me? Not allowed,” Anna states, entering the room, although her voice is clogged with tears. She joins the group on the bed, finding space by Anne, and Aragon nudges her with her foot and gives her a smile.

Last to join is Cathy, who sits square in the middle of the bed, scrunching into a tiny ball, clutching onto Aragon’s leg like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Aragon almost laughs at the typically mature queen acting so childish, but she doesn’t, figuring Cathy has earned the right to be clingy tonight. She adjusts herself, moving to the right so there’s more space, and then pats the vacated area next to her, which Cathy shifts into. She wraps her arms around Aragon, and Aragon accepts the hug easily, pulling her closer.

That anxiety she’s been feeling since the show abates slightly, and she finally gets her hug, her goddaughter nestling closer in the dark.

It’s quiet now, and the time ticks by in the silence faster than any of them want it to.

“I remember that it was a beautiful day when I died,” Jane murmurs, barely audible. “It was sunny, and the fall roses outside my window were blooming, so I could see them from my bed. Maybe I’ll get to see the roses again.”

Aragon stays silent, but she thinks about her own death. It was January, so it was cold, and the sky was grey. She remembers thinking about Mary as she died, hoping that she was playing in the snow somewhere.

Maybe it’ll be easier the second time around.

She looks at the clock.

Two minutes.

“I love you,” Anne says abruptly. “All of you. I don’t feel like I told you that enough. I love all of you so much.”

“I love you guys too,” Anna echoes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to express how thankful I am to every single one of you.”

“You taught me how to live again,” Parr whispers.

“You all taught me how to love again,” Jane amends. “You gave me my daughter.”

“You gave me my mum,” Katherine adds quietly. “And all of you saved me. In your own ways, you all saved me.”

Aragon closes her eyes and leans back against the headboard.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without all of you,” she says honestly. “I love you.”

She can’t look at them right now, or she’ll break. She’ll shatter like a piece of glass.

“One minute. There’s one minute,” Anna tells them, panicked.

Aragon hears the queens’ hysteria, but can’t register it above the humming in her own ears.

“This can’t be real. This can’t be real, right?”

“Mum, don’t leave me! Don’t make me go, mama!”

“It’s so dark when you die. It’s so dark, and so cold, and I can’t go back, I won’t go back, please don’t let me go back…”

“I won’t leave you, love. I won’t ever leave you. Just don’t forget about me, all right? I’ll always be with you.”

“It’ll be okay.”

“I love you.”

A flash of light, and a sound like all the air being sucked out of a small space, and the six wives of Henry the Eighth disappear.

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfic #yup so that was a thing i wrote #currently i am listening to 'i'll make a man out of you' in french so that's a bit of a tone shift #i did warn you about the angst #face to the wind eyes to the sun

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dxmagedrose · 4 years

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GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it.

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now! [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore. even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye. i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way.

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all.

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER. F L Y P A P E R. FLYPAPER. FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street. roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani. I am but a simple opossum.

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’) It’s the most grounding smell in the world.

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I—— I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!! take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT… the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //

#||: && the mundane ( ooc );#( get to know a bitch!! )#( this was... a lot of me rambling about weirdly personal shit at 2 am )

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mischiefmakingmuses · 5 years

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LD:AU {Ch1} - Spirits Awoken

Sherise watched the clock on the wall tick by slowly. One minute, thirty-five seconds. One minute, thirty-four seconds. Every time the second hand moved, she felt her excitement level rising. It was Halloween, and once school was out, she’d make preparations for that party she’d been waiting all month for.

“Sherrie, can you calm down a bit...? You look like you’ll bolt out the door the instant the bell rings...” Yenten, her best friend, sighed. “You’re making me a little anxious, not gonna lie.”

“I can’t help it, Ten, tonight’s gonna be absolutely stellar!” Sherise balled her fists. “I’m gonna get ready for the best night of the year, in forty-two seconds...forty-one seconds...”

“Cripes, don’t starting counting the seconds!” Yenten uttered.

The teacher continued to prattle on with her lesson as the countdown continued. And finally...three seconds...two seconds...one second...!

Brrrrriiiing!

“ALL RIGHT!” Sherise shot up from her chair like a rocket. Everyone just stared at her, even the teacher. After an awkward silence, she slowly picked up her bag and books. “...sorry.”

“Hmmph. Someone’s in a hurry,” local rich girl Gess huffed. Sherise just glared at her, which didn’t faze her in the slightest. In fact, she just got a shit-eating grin on her face. “Oh, by the way! Ms. Green! Didn’t you say there’s an assignment we have to do over the weekend?”

“Oh! Indeed there is! Thank you for reminding me, Gess!” Ms. Green clapped her hands together. The entire class groaned, especially Sherise who immediately sank back into her chair.

“You totally did that on purpose,” she hissed.

“Whatever do you mean?” Gess asked, trying to play dumb. “I just didn’t want Ms. Green to forget about our important assignment due on Monday!”

“Remember, class! Your assignment for this weekend is a five page essay on any myths or legends of Feridae of your choosing! That’ll be all! Dismissed!”

~*~★~♥~★~*~

“Y’know, I really hate Gess sometimes,” Sherise grumbled. “Who wants to write an essay on ghosts and myths? That stuff isn’t real!”

“Well...I mean...I guess you can’t really prove whether it’s real or not...” Yenten nervously quipped. “But...you don’t think it’s interesting at all? I think it’s pretty cool!”

“It just doesn’t feel logical to me! A lot of the legends don’t make se--oh, cripes, look who it is.”

Sherise and Yenten stopped walking as they were approached by Gess.

“What do you want, Gess?” Sherise asked bitterly. “You trying to ruin the rest of my day or something?”

“Oh, I just couldn’t help but overhear how someone like you, a total Halloween nut, can possibly not enjoy the rich lore of our world!” Gess did a noblewoman’s laugh. “Maybe instead of prepping for some dumb Halloween party...”

“Hey!!” Sherise interjected. Gess continued.

“...you should go check out that haunted mansion at the end of Drawn & Quarterly? Prove that the legends are such rubbish like you say they are...! Or are you too scared?!”

“I’m not scared!” Sherise cried out, throwing her hands up. “It’s just illogical to me!”

The two parties began to bicker, as a strange boy in a mask approached them.

“Oh...hello...sorry...did I hear...you talk about the mansion at Drawn & Quarterly...?” he interrupted.

“OK, two things. One, who the hell are you? Two, yeah, what of it?” Sherise placed her hands on her hips.

“Oh...hehehe...my name is Desley...and I’m just interested...you want to go to that mansion...? I hear...there’s a room with a singular burning candle...out of 100 total...it’s said that the previous visitors played a game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai...but got too scared and didn’t finish...they say that if you put the candle out...a monster will appear...” Desley slowly brought his hand up to the mouth on his mask and giggled softly. “Maybe it’s real...but maybe not...”

“Even better!” Gess cried out. She pointed at Sherise and Yenten. “Alright! If you go and put that candle out...I’ll do your homework for a week!”

“Deal!” Sherise wasted no time accepting the bet. She grabbed Yenten’s hand. “C’mon, Ten! We’re going!”

“W-wait, why am I getting involved in this?!” the boy called out as his friend dragged him behind her.

“Ah...there they go. Hehehe...” Desley slowly started shuffling in the direction the duo went off in. He turned to look at Gess. “I hope you’re ready...to uphold your promise. Hehehe...maybe you shouldn’t be so much of a bully...I could’ve easily given this offer to you...”

“Excuse me?!” Gess snapped. “What did you call me?! Get back here, you little masked gremlin!”

“...oh...you should be happy my friends...weren’t around to hear that...but...I feel like you won’t be able to evade their detection forever...hehehe...”

“Hey! Are you threatening me?! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

“Haaa... Auf Wiedersehen...” Desley continued on his route without looking at the girl screeching behind him.

~*~★~♥~★~*~

“I heard that the monster that shows up at the end of a game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai is called ‘aoandon’,” Yenten explained as he kicked a rock along the sidewalk. “But usually, people don’t finish the game because the atmosphere grips them with fear and they give up before telling the hundredth story.”

“But...aoandon can’t be real. Can they? So that means that they get so close to their goal and they just, stop? What a load of bunk,” Sherise scoffed.

“Maybe you should keep a lid on your skepticism until we’re done...”

They stopped in front of the old mansion at Drawn & Quarterly. As expected, it was dilapidated and looked like no one had even so much as opened the door for decades. Yenten gulped.

“Sherrie...are we really doing this?” he whimpered. Sherise harrumphed.

“Yeah, of course we are! Don’t you wanna stick it to Gess for once? Look, all we gotta do is go inside, find the candle, put it out, and bam! We’ll be done, Gess’ll do my homework for a week, and we can get to the party in time!” Sherise saw no issues with this plan.

“OK, OK...let’s just get this over with...”

The duo stepped onto the pathway towards the decrepit and rotted front door. There was a lock on it...Sherise gently held it up to inspect it, only for the lock to detach from the door completely. Startled, she yelped and dropped the lock, which fell to the floor and shattered into pieces. She glanced over at Yenten, who merely shrugged.

Going inside, the entire mansion was covered in dust and cobwebs, and the air was musty and hard to breathe. Sherise found herself lifting the collar of her shirt over her nose just to stop herself from getting a lungful of rotten wood particles.

“Yuck. This really is the funk of forty thousand years, isn’t it?” she groaned. Taking a step forward, the floorboards made a creak so loud it could wake the dead. The girl facepalmed. “I feel like the mansion is going to disintegrate if we so much as breathe.”

“You wanna stick it to the people who didn’t finish their games of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai or not, Sherrie?” Yenten muttered passive aggressively. “Don’t get cold feet now.”

“Alright, alright...sheesh...”

The floorboards continued to creak unceremoniously as the two students made their way through the mansion, the cacophony enough to drive even the most holy of saints crazy. And, unfortunately, their search lasted for a good half hour or so, seeing as there were many, many rooms to check and not a candle in sight.

“I’m getting really tired of this,” Sherise wheezed. “Where’s this room at?”

“I can help you with that.”

Sherise cried out in shock and ended up falling into Yenten in her panic, sending both of them to the floor. After regaining their composure, they noticed that the voice belonged to Desley, the strange boy from earlier.

“Desley? Where did you come from?” Yenten asked, coughing out dust that flew into his mouth. “And how didn’t we hear you coming?!”

“The floorboards were too loud...” Desley murmured. Waving his hands in front of him, he giggled. “It looks like you two are kinda, lost, though...so I decided to help. By any chance, did you think to check the basement...?”

“B...basement?” Sherise uttered.

“Yup...if you’ll get up and follow me, I’ll take you there...hehe...”

“OK, then...” Sherise picked herself up and dusted off her pants before offering Yenten her hand. “Sorry about that, Ten...”

“I-it’s OK...” the boy responded, blushing. He took her hand and Sherise yanked him up. The duo looked over at Desley, who nodded and began to walk off. Admittedly, his steps were meticulous and light, making much less noise than they had been earlier.

In only a matter of minutes, the masked boy led the two to a staircase leading down. At the very bottom of the stairs, a very faint, blue light could be seen.

“Watch your step...”

The trio carefully made their way down the stairs, taking care not to slip and fall in the dark. Upon reaching the ground, Desley walked off towards a room with its door slightly ajar; from here, the light was more visible. Sherise gently opened the door a bit more, letting herself into the room, with Yenten following behind her.

The room was filled wall to wall with a hundred candles, some more melted than others, and all but one extinguished. The lone flame flickered in the middle of the dozens of candles, seeming a bit forlorn in a way.

“There really was a lit candle...” Sherise gasped. Slowly, carefully, she made her way to the candle. Nearby, there was a candle extinguisher. Sherise took it in her hand, and steadily moved forward to extinguish the candle. However, she felt her arm being grabbed from behind.

“Just a second, you two...” It was Desley. He looked at both Sherise and Yenten before digging around in his pocket and pulling something out. In his hand were two gemstones. They were clear and colorless. “Here. These are for you.”

“What are they?” Yenten asked. He gingerly took one of the gemstones, only to cry out a bit. He’d cut himself on it. “Oh, no, I’m bleeding!”

“I am, too!” Sherise whimpered. The two looked at their gemstones. Their blood was drawn into the middle of the stones, which then formed a heart inside. Upon further inspection, the edges had smoothed out, making another cut impossible. “What...just happened?”

“Those...are Reversal Shards. You’ll need to take care of them from now on...and they won’t work for anyone other than you...now...you can extinguish the candle...and end this game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai.” Desley gestured to the lit candle.

Sherise was still curious, but did as she was told. Taking a deep breath, she topped the candle with the extinguisher, the flame going out with a soft fizzling sound. The room became entirely dark, and all was silent.

“...that’s all?” Sherise asked, pouting. “All this build-up and nothing ha--”

Before she could finish, all the candles lit themselves with bright blue flames. The flames danced off their wicks and joined together in the middle, causing Sherise to back up hastily, nearly knocking down Desley in the process. The flames grew larger and larger, swirling in the middle of it all.

“W-what’s going on?!” Sherise shrieked.

“You just summoned the aoandon, that’s what!” Yenten yelled in response, voice shaking.

The flames began to contort in shape, forming a figure within. First, a moderately sized glass and metal lantern appeared, containing a small flame inside. The rest of the fire burned away, revealing a flat creature wearing blue clothes. It was mostly white, with many blue stripes running down its body. As the last of the flames went out, the creature’s tail tightly wrapped around the handle of the lantern. It floated in place, seemingly asleep.

“Is...is that...” Yenten stuttered.

“The aoandon?” Sherise questioned.

As if activated, the aoandon stretched itself out and yawned. It shook itself, small puffs of blue ash swirling around in the air in small clouds. Finally, it opened its eyes.

“Ahhh...that was such a nice nap!” The aoandon shook itself again and stretched itself out to full length, its tail never letting go of the lantern. “Hmm? Hiya! Who’re you guys?”

“U-uh...I-I’m Sherise...and this is Ten--I mean, Yenten.” Sherise said, gesturing to her friend. Yenten merely gave an awkward wave.

“I see, I see! A pleasure to meet you both! I’m Sunny!” The aoandon held out a hand for the kids to shake. Not wanting to leave him hanging, both Sherise and Yenten shook his hand once. “Sew, I’m guessin’ you’re the reason I got woken up?”

“I...I guess so...” Sherise nervously answered. She fiddled with her fingers before speaking up again. “Hey, Sunny...are you really an aoandon?”

“Yup! But only on my father’s side! My mother is an ittan-momen, don’chino? I think I really take after her!” Sunny did a little pose to accentuate the statement. Both Yenten and Sherise were sweating nervously.

“Yes, actually, about that, Sunny...” Desley spoke up. “Your parents were the ones who asked me to find you. They’d noticed you stopped writing letters for a while...and thought something happened to you.”

“Oh, is that sew? Thanks for updatin’ me on the stitch-uation!” Sunny flew up very close to Desley. So close, you’d expect the boy to flinch--but he remained completely unfazed. “Though, I don’t think I know ya. Who are you?”

“My name is Desley...and it’s true, you were gone long before I was even born...I guess you could say I’m a bit of an intermediary...between the Wayside and the Trueside.”

“Hey, Desley? This is great and all, but...why did you get us involved? A-and I thought...if aoandon were really real, wouldn’t they be a lot scarier? I mean, there has to be a reason why people don’t finish their games of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai! But look at Sunny! He’s positively adorable!” Sherise thrust her hand out, gesturing at Sunny.

“Aww, why thank ya!” Sunny chirped, blushing. “Buuuut, just the same as how not all humans are alike, not all monsters are alike, don’chino? Sure, there’s monsters and stuff who’re a real thread, but I’d like ta think a lot of us are lovely individuals.”

“In fact...it might be good for you to know that most of the figures in the myths and legends you find so illogical, Sherise...” Desley pushed up on his mask. “...are just trying to live their lives the same as humans are.

“But, they are quite often misunderstood...so most of them are invisible to humans as a means of defense...the only way to see them...is by forming a blood bond with a Reversal Shard...”

“Reversal Shard...like the ones you gave us?” Yenten asked. He’d already forgotten about the gemstones Desley had given them. He moved his fingers slightly to feel the Reversal Shard still in his hand.

“That’s right...” Desley leaned to the side and tapped his fingers. “As for why I got you involved...to tell you the truth...you just happened to be in the right place at the right time...I was already on my way to this mansion when I overheard your conversation. The thing is...aoandon are often spirited away from their homes in the Trueside when humans play Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai...but since they have a propensity to give up before telling the last story, the aoandon end up stuck between this world and the next...like Sunny here.”

“I see...but we put out the last candle, so he’s free now. So, job well done?” Sherise clapped her hands together. “Also...I guess we can just see ghosts now...?”

“Yup. Now then...it’s probably time I take Sunny home.” Desley gestured to Sunny to follow and he slowly began to walk off. However, he ended up turning around. “Although...since you two have formed blood bonds...and have Reversal Shards...you could help me escort Sunny home...and see the Trueside...what do you say?”

“Hmm...what do you think, Sherrie?” Yenten looked at his friend expectantly. She hummed and began to think, but was immediately interrupted by Sunny getting up in her face.

“Hey! Not ta influence yer decision, but I wooled really appreciate knit if ya came with us! Knit’s not often I make new friends...!” The ao-momen looked at her with pleading eyes, clasping his hands together. “Pleeeeease! Tonight’s also Halloween, wool all have a party! Knit’ll be a scrim!”

Sherise simply stared at the specter. Those big, sad eyes of his were absolutely adorable, but also, the cloth puns were getting a little out of hand. Part of her wanted to go solely to see how much longer Sunny could keep it up. She sighed and closed her eyes.

“There was a party I wanted to go to tonight...” Upon hearing that, Sunny’s expression fell. “But...I honestly think I’d have more fun seeing real monsters for once!”

“Yeeeeessss!” Sunny cheered. He flew about the room, zipping here and there with pure joy. He stopped in front of Sherise, positively beaming. “Then knit’s settled! We’re gonna have a party, all night long! With new friends! C’mon! I’ll race ya there!”

Sunny took off like a rocket out of the room, up the stairs, and outside of the mansion. Meanwhile, Gess had shown up with her posse, consisting of Emrit and Meryl.

“Hey, Gess...do you really think Sherise and Yenten went inside?” Meryl asked, looking exasperated. “It feels like we’ve been here forever, and I still don’t see them!”

“Oh, you know Sherise. She probably bit off more than she could chew, again,” Gess waved her hand dismissively. “Any second now, they’ll come out all wide-eyed because they saw a spider or something.”

Right at that second, Sunny came barreling out of the front door. However, since he was mostly invisible to Gess and the others, all that they could see was a ghostly blue flame charging out towards them.

“Wh-what is that?!” Emrit screamed. He jolted up from his spot and staggered backwards, nearly tripping and crashing back down to the ground.

“That’s it, I’m outta here!” Meryl squealed. Both she and Emrit dashed down out of the yard and into the street, leaving Gess all by herself.

“H-hey wait! Get back here, you cowards!” As the trio ran off screaming, Sherise and her friends just made it out the door.

“...was that Gess?” she asked.

“Looks like Sunny gave them a run for their money,” Yenten chuckled. Sherise grinned broadly and let out a triumphant laugh.

“Thanks, Sunny! Now I don’t gotta do my homework for a week!”

“Ehhh? What’s ‘homework’?” the ao-momen asked, flying over his new friends’ heads excitedly. “Aren’t we gonna party?”

“Yeah! Let’s get this show on the road!” Sherise cried out, pumping her fist in the air.

And so, Sherise and Yenten made their way to the Trueside. Of course, this was only the first adventure of many to come...

#lasting desires another unity #extremely long; sorry #a halloween to remember

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segenassefa · 3 years

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10: Musical Discourse: Slime Language 2

Young Thug’s new project, Slime Language 2, is almost reminiscent of Pi’erre Bourne’s TLOP4, except more features (Thug got all these niggas in the studio and told them “We’re doing this now or never”), including ex-girlfriend and entrepreneur Karlae, Jim Jones, Drake, Travis Scott, and Coi Leray. There is a heavy YSL l influence (obviously) as well as some OVO features (hey Drake, hey Nav!), Coi Leray (no comment), and even a Rowdy Rebel feature, fresh from the pen. This project does a good job at touching different extremes of the rap music spectrum – Thug manages to get some songs for the ladies (“I Like”, which, to me, is very reminiscent of the City Girls, “On the Low”, and “Trance”), typical athlete walk-out music, and some songs that follow that “no one ever believed in me/everyone leaves me” kinda vibe.

If we’re gonna keep it 100, the album in itself is not necessarily a stand-out – very few songs have that “wow” factor - and to be honest - it’s mid, as the kids would call it. BUT, in the spirit of neutrality, I’ll be breaking down my favourites, as a self-proclaimed know most and trap music enthusiast, especially since today marks the one-month anniversary of its release - and if you disagree, suck ya mum (JK….kinda.)

“Take It to Trial” – Young Thug, YSL, Gunna, Yak Gotti

This track is probably one of the best on the album, and not just because the Yak Gotti feature ties it all together, but for the overall cohesiveness of everyone on the track, which almost makes it sound like one person entirely throughout. Take It to Trial was one of the tracks on the album that was released before the drop of SL2, giving it some time to marinate before the drop of the project in its entirety. While the beat is nothing too crazy, it’s still a standout due to the lyricism of the track and the abnormally high pitch Thug manages to hit on the chorus, as he adamantly requests to take this shit to mf’in trial.

I don’t know if the herpes bar making me think of NBA YoungBoy makes me a bad person, but I guess only time will tell.

“I Like” – YSL, Karlae, Coi Leray

Now, listen. I am not going to lie and say that I support all women. Somewhere in my heart, I know Coi Leray got to where she is due to a combination of light skin privilege (insert noises of disgust), some form of nepotism, her marketability, and her longstanding time in the industry (she was, in fact, one of the Mindless Behaviour video girls, so that in itself should tell you how long she’s secretly been in the game. She’s almost like a slightly darker Alexa Demie, except she isn’t lying about her age).

But this song???

THIS MF SONG?

There has to be crack in it. Because it’s not that good - the beat is not one which you run back for its complexity, nor its lyricism, but DAMN, it’s a good ass song.

Both she and Karlae captured the effortless sexy feeling certain songs are supposed to give you (fellas, not sure if you’ve ever felt it, but I feel like the laydeez know what I mean). It’s giving very much Uber Black on the freeway in an amazing outfit, drunk out of your mind - and I’m here for it! While I do feel like Karlae can rap circles around Coi, if given the opportunity, I think one thing I can say is that Coi does have the unabashed confidence of a man in her same position and that in itself makes this song *that* much more powerful.

“Mil in Vegas” – YSL, Young Thug, NAV

When I’m old and in my nursing home of choice (Astagfurallah, but you never know), I hope Young Thug drops a purely R&B album; something like Hndrxx but a lil’ less suicidal.

Or that the nursing home has enough money to hire him for a mid-afternoon senior citizen concert, but let’s tackle one problem at a time.

This track is almost like the niggas’ version of “I Like” but instead of boo boo Mizz Leray, we get a melodic NAV feature. In addition to my appreciation of him realizing he needs to stop using the fucking n-word (he shouldn’t have been using it in the first place, but progress is better than perfection), I think there’s something to be said with rap songs that are done outside of the major key; it def adds a little pinash, and some depth that wouldn’t have been there before – and NAV’s voice is suited perfectly for these otherwise challenging scales.

The only other thing going for this song is the way Thug looks in that yellow turtleneck on the Spotify visualizer – and with that being said, I hope niggas will be rocking more bright colors in the seasons to come.

(Also, what the fuck is NAV’s obsession with Los Angeles? I swear there’s at least one bar in every song).

“Slatty” – YSL, Young Thug, Gunna, Lil Duke, Yak Gotti

Mark my motherfucking words - when we have in-person sporting events, I will bet my Large Telfar bag that at least one draftee has this song as their walk-out music.

This track incorporates the one word that every nigga in YSL records (and current rap culture) has heat-stamped in their vocabulary, and while the word “slat” has been massacred by hordes of white teenage boys on TikTok, I will say that this chorus is catchy as fuck.

The real star of this song (shockingly) is the juxtaposition of Yak Gotti’s gritty, emory-board vocal cords, the raspy voice of Lil Duke, and the familiar buttery sound of Thug’s vocals.

Why the visualizer has P. Diddy in it, God only knows. But our adeer is doing his thing in those big ass Versace shades, so who am I to say anything.

“Diamonds Dancing” – YSL, Young Thug, Travis Scott, Gunna

I have no commentary other than asking rappers to please stop using Dr. King for any of their metaphors – he cheated on Correta with a white woman (and only one that we KNOW of, for that matter).

So, I stand here humbly before you, petitioning for the alternative bars including:

“Dripped in Dolce & Gabanna / Black diamonds like Thomas Sankara”

“New girl like Lori Harvey / chain Black like Africa, Marcus Garvey”

or something along those lines. Even a Sojourner Truth bar, at this fucking point.

“Solid” – YSL, Young Thug, Gunna, Drake

Of course, OF FUCKING COURSE, this track was saved by none other than the culture vulture himself - the man, the myth, and apparently now, the fucking candlemaker, Mr. Aubrey Drake Graham.

(Sidenote: Why is graham such a hard word to spell?).

I know y’all niggas heard - and felt - him very clearly when he said he needed some head and some moral support right away (not like y’all are gonna get any, but understandable if you felt it).

Something about the subtle use of steel pan, and mafioso type beat that the OVO clan has such an affinity for, really brings this hoe all the way together.

Another interesting point to note – and why I think Thug and Gunna make such an incomparable duo - is the fact that Thug and Gunna could almost pass for one another on the second verse, and even in the chorus. The only distinctive giveaway in this is the fact that Gunna does not make use of the whimsical bars in the same way that Thug does (because who the fuck is putting macaroni and cheese in their pockets besides the man who made a whole Instagram live about having a dirty dick? Exactly.)

Surprisingly though, this is one of the only songs on the album that hasn’t drilled holes in my eardrums, even after listening to it for an entire month, so bravo on them for that.

“Proud of You” – YSL, Young Thug, Lil Uzi Vert, Yung Kayo

I’m going to use this song to expose my corniness in saying I’ve definitely thought of using this song for some Instagram captions.

I think the combined genius of Thug and Uzi is often overlooked due to everyone wanting to worship Uzi with the androgynous Vampire Ma- I mean, Carti (who also makes a great duo with Uzi in his own right, but Uzi and Thug just remind me of two eccentric uncles, minus a few decades).

It was also rumored in 2018 that these niggas had over fifteen hundred songs together and I honestly wouldn’t it put it past them for that to be true.

Will they all be hits? Probably not, but it’s nice to be a dreamer – plus, their previous tracks (What’s the Move, It’s A Slime and Strawberry Peels) can’t be disregarded either.

“Really Be Slime” – YSL, Young Thug, FN DaDealer, YNW Melly, Bslime

In my honest opinion, I think YNW Melly (and TayK!) should have been pardoned from jail way before Reptar (Kodak) or the other gremlin, Mr. Weezy F Baby – not doubting this artistry, but I do think this man requires a serious rest; musically, emotionally, and physically).

This nigga Melly bodies every feature and brings such mischievous energy to every single track. Also, the minute the rhymed “butter pecan” and “Puerto Rican”, he was fr a genius in my high school eyes.

You can’t deny that the other niggas on the track, even Young Thug himself, fall a little short and that FN DaDealer is trying a bit hard to give us Lil Baby teas, but for what it is, it’s not a bad song. The beat, again, nothing too impressive, but I’m honestly just so glad to hear a YNW Melly feature after what feels like forever.

And that about wraps it up – overall, I’d give this project a solid 5/10. It could have done a bit more; and for the number of features (as well as their duality), honestly could have been more experimental. I get that this was highly anticipated, but in that case, I’m sure niggas wouldn’t have minded waiting a bit longer for it to go the extra mile.

If you feel like I missed any important tracks, that’s too damn bad; but feel free to argue with me in the comments of Instagram.

Until then…*turns on “I Like”*.

#cashmoneysegs #slime #language #2 #young #thug #rap #hiphop #blog post 10 #cm$

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sleepytoycollection · 7 years

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SpacePops: A Review Part 2

Part 1: Here

Well, here I am again, this took me longer to get around to than I intended, but hey, I had four times as many dolls to look at. Not to mention how much drawing I’ve been doing for my main blog lately, so yeah I’ve been busy.

Anywhoozle, as my first review can tell you, I found my Luna doll to have a certain amount of charm through all her cheapness, and if you can still find one from your local TRU; you might be lucky enough to snag them for round $2 bucks each as I did. And I def recommend getting one if you can, if nothing else for a nice, articulate spare body and some MH sized shoes. Just don’t let your self pay for than $5 for one. They’re not that fun.

I was lucky enough to manage to get a hold of all five characters, so let’s see how they measure up to Luna. To avoid being too repetitive I’ll try to focus on their unique features only.

Let’s start with Rhea:

Rhea was actually the one I liked the best from her art work. I mean look at it, she looks amazing here, the boots, thigh high stockings, the layers, gloves and chains would’ve made for an amazing doll of the effort had been put in.

I won’t ramble forever about the what-ifs, but it’s just so much of a punch to the stomach to know we’ll never see the real potential these had realized.

I’m not gonna go through the all the profiles, but if anyone’s interested I could scan them in for better visibility.

Gremlin #2.

Getting her out of the box, the first thing that struck me was her hat.

And I mean that literally as there was nothing helping it attach to her head. Much as I’m grateful these dolls lack those plastic ties shot into their heads that mattel’s become so fond of; I don’t think a rubber band would’ve too much to ask for.

Here she out of the box:

She’s...something.

After how much Luna has surprised me by simply being less bad than I feared; Rhea on the other hand was everything I’d worried these girls would be.

Her hair is terrible, it’s the cheapest, nastiest of all the dolls, it’s literally the same stuff the Midnight magic dolls used. It had a gross, greasy feel and wants to pull away from the scalp if I dare try to run a comb through it.

Ugh. On top of that, it became quickly clear I’d gotten a Rhea with a defective hand. Instead of the normal back and forth movement almost every other doll has, she’s got side to side movement.

Except, her hands still have the dents in the molding indicating it’s not meant to turn that way. I’m at a loss. I really can’t tell how this happened, or how her hand isn’t falling off.

It could’ve been worse in that regard, but there’s not many good uses for side to side movement that look natural.

At this point I’d only opened the one doll prior, and so was extremely worried I’d simply gotten lucky with Luna.

sigh.

Her outfit is super cheap, made cheaper looking by how complex a design they were trying to emulate. It’s all one piece and gives the impression of a store bought Halloween costume in miniature.

I will grant however, all the dolls having their name on their tag is cute.

But it’s a wasted detail on something this cheap. The black band on her waist is a sort of flimsy, felt-like material, and the knit of her shorts is thin. I feel like I could easily tear a run in it if I pull just a little too much, especially being unhemmed as they are.

She’s got a slight blue tint to her pale complexion, as you can see her here next to Catrine.

The socks are made of paint, and I’d have rather they be left off entirely. Her left knee also doesn’t bend, and I have not been able to fix it yet.

As you can imagine, after Rhea I lost a lot of energy for these girls. She was the doll I’d wanted the most, and was just disappointing in every way, despite me already having incredibly low standards.

Still, I was going to have to open these girls up eventually. So this time I decided to go for the design I’d liked the least with Athena:

Every time I look at her dress I can’t help but think of the Flintstones. Not in a cute way either.

It’s like if, after their crossover, a member of the Jestons universe tried to make a fashion version of their cave clothing as a cheap cash in, and just doesn’t work for me that much. Maybe it’s partly the colors used.

It’s a little better art wise, but eh. Maybe if she wasn’t he same color as Rhea..?

Blah blah profile.

Gremlin #3.

Despite my opinions on her look, out of the box she struck me as a pleasant increase in quality if nothing else. Nothing falling off, no visible defects.

It was around this time tho I was starting to realize there seemed to be a decided aversion to hair gel. Her spiked updo’ is translated as a short ponytail here.

Can’t say I mind too much, but lack of gel means her hair gets pulled pretty easily, especially where her glasses are. She’s got nothing on Gilda Goldstag that’s for sure.

Her tie is made of the same cheap fuzzy stuff Rhea’s belt was made of, for that matter her gold belt is the only new fabric type here.

But to my great surprise her skirt has a separate over lay!

And it’s even lined, I’ll admit it improved my opinion of her a good bit. It feels sturdy.

Her netted sleeve too is competently made.

..but left a stain on her arm.

With out the overlay her outfit looks a bit less flinstone-y, so I’m just gonna leave it off.

Under her dress she has some pink tights, which I appreciate as they become less and less common in the doll world. Even if it makes me wonder why Rhea couldn’t have had socks. Just one of those things I guess.

Her glasses are held in neatly with, of all things, the help of tiny plastic bobby pins!

!!! I’m sorry but that’s adorable, tiny pins! And they work! Amazing.

Her hair is the same quality as Luna’s, thank goodness, and is easy enough to brush out.

But to my dismay, her glasses don’t fit her face. If you put the arms over her actual ears, they set waayyyy too low. I can’t get them to twist so the bridge will set on her nose. But if I place them high enough so the lens can cover her eyes, they get stuck from her head being too wide and wont’ touch her face.

That said, I like the shape and look of these, and I’m sure I have plenty of other dolls who can rock them. But it doesn’t say much for your line if your accessories can’t be used for the doll they were made to be used on.

Still, Athena was a huge improvement to my energy for these girls, so let’s hop over to Hera.

I wanna take a sec to apologize for the quality of several of these pics, my camera’s very old and staring to kick the bucket.

Hera’s pretty cute, if you like Draculaura. Which I do. The fact the lime green specifically reminds me of Snow Bite, which is my fav version of Ula helps make it a pleasant comparison.

Gremlin #4.

Yay! A different fabric! And hemming! It’s a dream come true~

Now if only I had the same excitement over her hair.

It’s the standard for these dolls tbh, but being curled has not agreed with it. I’m kinda afraid to touch it. She’s got a head band in there, but it’s very hidden.

even if it wasn’t, it’s just a plain ribbon, no where near the flower crown of her art.

The dress is really the star here, of all the outfits so far it’s the one that feels the sturdiest, and no printed details.

Her tag.

Her tights are different fabric to the other ones we’ve seen. It’s not as stretchy, which is why you see it sagging around the knees. It’s the kind of netting you’d see as a tulle petticoat.

It looks alright, but it makes me concerned with how durable these would be in the long run.

Now,you may have noticed me not making any comments on the shoes. Well I have a very good reason for that:

They’re all the same. They reused the same shoe mold for all four of these girls, leaving only one who doesn’t have these heels.

That girl being of course, Juno.

She was my second favorite of all the girls when I saw their art all that time ago.

Aside from how much I love the colors used, she has pants! And a shaved head!

...And another Gremlin.

And last but not least, here she is:

Of all the girls, she’s the one who comes the closest to looking like her boxart.

So not too surprising her outfit is to be my favorite of the bunch.

She’s also the only one to use any kind of styling product. Fairly lightly, but it’s on there. Yet, despite how little there was used they still managed to get a good bit on her face.

Can’t have it all I suppose.

But the flocking looks good.

I also appreciate how she has the most unique face paint of all the ladies. It’s not much by usual standards, but with every girl using the same face mold, they can use all the differences they can get.

Without her Jacket you can bein to see just how had that top is, but she can put her hands in her pockets, so if there had to be a trade off, I’ll admit they made the right one.

Her jacket is nicely sewn, only her collar sporting an unfinished hem, but I don’t know how you’d really hem those jagged edges anyhow. It’s usable and looks alright.

Her boots tho, no complaints there. By Spacepop standards these are the best shoes you’ll ever see. By normal doll standards they’re still not bad.

I very serious when I say I love these pants. I feel like most of their clothing budget went into that fabric. Almost like someone was trying.

Sigh. But then you get this.

It’s garbage. The worst piece of all the clothing I’ve seen here, and there’s no way this would’ve held up to a child.

Now what else have I not covered..oh yeah. The gremlins.

They suck.

Like the shoes, the reused the same mold 4 times. Unlike the shoes, I never thought they were cute.

Only 1 dared to use a different mold, Athen’s gremlin:

...Who might be the only one that comes close to being endearing. The combo of a cute hair style, cute paint details, side glancing eyes, make Roxie almost a nice accessory.

Whew, well, now I’ve gone through everything I could think to talk about.

Having gone over every doll just cements that the execution of this line was a huge misstep on the part of Madame Alexander. Tho I can’t be sure.I get the impression they made these to compete with Monster High, but they company simply waited too long.

By 2016 MH was going into the reboot, and with Mattel’s sales and quality going down MA seemed to lost faith in these ladies and gave up before release. It’s a shame too, Maybe the weren’t the most original idea on the market, but They could’ve been a nice solid competition. Instead we got these; and it leaves me with a sense of melancholy the more I think about the ways things are going. With new lines and experiments coming to a standstill nowadays, doll collecting has been less and less exciting.

And now, less than a year after their debut Spacepops have gone the way of Pinkie Cooper and Novi Stars. In their own way, the last remnant of an era of collecting that’s now gone as styles shift to something else.

Still, I plan to have fun my new new set of ladies, I haven’t completely decided how far I’ll go, maybe leave them as-is for posterity. Their flat face ups have grown on me. Maybe I just miss the bright, harsher colors that are going out of style.

All that said, I bought a spare Athena to experiment with, so I’ll def have some follow ups with how these ladies look with a good repaint.

Anyway, I’m tired and out of thoughts for now. Hopefully you found this somewhat informative, and as always thanks for reading.

#doll review #spacepop #spacepop dolls

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coffeesforfuckers · 7 years

Text

Cuffed In Handcuffs To My Biggest Secrets // Frerard

Pairing: Frerard Summary: Gerard hates Frank and Frank hates Gerard. They swear at each other, kick, hit, spit at each other, anything that could possibly kill the other while screaming insults at one another. Everybody else is sick of their shit and decide that handcuffs are the only way to solve the problem. Word Count: 3,892

“I hate you so much, Frank Iero. Why the fuck do you even try?” I snap at him without even turning to face him, walking to the changing rooms after a show, “You can’t sing, you can barely play your fucking guitar and on top of that, you’re a reckless moron.” I list off and I can just tell he’s nagging me behind my back.

“You just say this shit because you know you suck and this band will never take off. I don’t even know why I stay at this point, I could do so much better without your dumb ass.” He mutters from behind.

“Yeah right, Frank. How about you go try that out and tell me how it goes?” I sass and he kicks me in the shin. I spin around to face him and he spits up into my eye.

“Maybe I will, dickhead! You’ll fall apart without me here.” His voice is sharp as I wipe his saliva off of my face and quickly grab him by the collar of his shirt.

“Listen you little goblin, I will fucking destroy you.” I hold him up, too close to my face.

“Like you could fight me, I’ll kick your ass, I’m from New Jersey!” He says as if it’s intimidating.

“Like that would ever be-” He spits directly into my mouth. I drop him and spit into the floor in disgust.

“You little shit! What the fuck do you think you’re doing!?” I yell angrily, “Are you fucking challenged?!”

“I’m defending myself you cunt!” He yells back and I swing at him, nailing him in the jaw. He swipes his hand over my face and claws me over the cheek and eye.

I go to grab him again, “Hey! Hey! What are you fucking doing!?” Mikey and Ray rush towards us as Mikey shouts at us.

I catch Frank’s collar and slam him against the wall. Mikey pulls his arms around me and Ray gets Frank, prying us apart as we both desperately attempt to injure each other. I fight against Mikey but he holds me firmly as Frank kicks around in Ray’s arms, looking like the little gremlin he was.

Frank spits at me again and it hits Mikey’s arm, “ Hey !” He practically screams, “ Enough !”

“He started it!” Frank growls.

“No, he fucking spit at me!” I defend.

“Why the fuck are you trying to kill each other anyway?! Jesus christ! Can’t we have one day where you two don’t fucking maul one another!?” Ray snaps.

“Frank’s a fucking idiot! That’s why!” I attempt to break free of Mikey’s restraint again to no avail.

“I didn’t fucking do anything! He just started insulting me for no reason!” Frank struggles, kicking his feet as they couldn’t reach the ground from the way Ray was holding him.

“Can you two please just go get changed so we can go back to the hotel?” Mikey sighs exhaustively. We were constantly at each other's throats and I could tell they were sick of having to pull us apart. I think they should just let us kill one another in all honestly.

“If you let me take one more swing at the gremlin.” I hiss.

“Gerard. Fucking go change. Now .” Mikey demands and starts pulling me to my dressing room, “Ray, take Frank to his dressing room please.” He sighs.

I can hear Frank shouting to be put down and that he could ‘ walk himself’ as Ray carried his tiny ass to his changing area.

|||

“Just let us fight each other. Whoever wins gets to live and stay in the band.” I say as I pull my shirt over my head.

“Gerard, you are not fighting Frank.” Mikey rolls his eyes, “Why do you two hate one another so much anyway?” The question causes me to freeze.

Only Frank and I knew the reasons but even then, there barely was one. We just hated each other really. It was that simple. Him and I were complete opposites, they don’t attract, they repel in our case.

“We just do, Mikey. Opposites don’t always attract.” I grumble, sliding out of my skinny jeans.

He sighs at my immaturity, “Have you ever tried to get along?”

“Once. We’re better as enemies.” I speak and tug on a pair of baggy sweatpants, “Never will I ever be friends with Frank Iero.” I say and lightly kick Mikey’s knee as he was sat on the floor, blocking the exit so I wouldn’t run off and murder Frank.

Smart move.

I let out a huff as he stands up and grasps my arm. Mikey leads me out to the cab that’s waiting for us. Frank’s on the far end and Ray’s in the middle, Mikey hops in and then me. They put a barrier between Frank and I to keep us from ending the lives of one another.

I stare out the window and so does he, completely ignoring me. It’s almost surprising that we haven’t started a screaming match yet. Well, we mostly only did that when Ray and Mikey weren’t around to stop us.

I did feel bad that they always had to stop us from being sent to prison for murder. But I could care less when I was in the middle of one of our infamous arguments.

My eye hurt.

“Mikey, could you get me ice when we get to the hotel, I’m gonna go look at my eye to make sure that I won’t go blind from his attack.” I glare over at Frank who’s already shooting daggers at me.

“Okay, I’ll grab you some ice too, Frank.” He smiles between us as we have a stare down.

“Fine, betray me why don’t you?” I huff and Mikey rolls his eyes at me and my pathetic childishness.

“Gerard, knock it off and you too, Frank.” He mutters to us both and we go back to watching out the windows.

|||

I’m barely awake when we finally get to the hotel. I drag myself up to my room that I’m sharing with everybody. Everybody gets up there quickly, except Mikey of course, who’s finding me ice.

I step into the bathroom to check my wound and it looks awful; my eye is almost swollen shut. I let out a sigh and wash my face with water and then sit down on the floor, leaned against the wall with the hot water running.

I did this a lot. It helps my voice a lot from how much I’ve been straining myself to sing and occasionally get sick from nerves. I was always a very awkward and nervous kid and I get extremely anxious before shows, especially big ones and sometimes end up vomiting from the anxiety.

There's a banging on the door that causes me to jump, “Yo! Hurry the fuck up!” Frank shouts from the other side.

I huff and turn off the water, tossing the door open. I shove him back and he stumbles as I move past him, “Dickhead. I will end you.” Frank grumbles as he slams the bathroom door.

I just end up going to bed.

|||

I sigh as I wobble on my feet, unsure of if I were still going to throw-up again or not. Frank keeps banging on the bathroom door and I’m ready to kill him.

“Can you hurry the fuck up!? Other people have to use that too you know!” He yells, slamming on the door. I’m so fed up with his yelling that I just rinse my mouth and step out, punching him in the chest to move him out of my way.

“Go fuck yourself, Frank.” I snap as I stomp off.

The set goes by so fast, I almost kill Frank probably around three times and he almost cracks my head open with his guitar. Everybody thinks it’s all for the show somehow. Probably because we’re not screaming profanities at each other and actually trying to piss the other off to the point of murder.

As soon as it’s over Frank and I are beating each other as soon as we step off of the stage. Mikey catches me just before I grab Frank by the neck and Ray grabs him.

“You dirty little troll! I’ll fucking slaughter you! I’ll fucking kill your ass!” I shout, fighting as hard as I can against Mikey.

“Try me, Cunt! I dare you to fucking try and fight me you cock sucking whore!” Frank does the same as I.

“Okay! Knock it off!” Mikey shouts over us and we fall silent as always, “Ray, it’s time,” he huffs.

“Brian!” Ray calls our tour manager over.

“Are they at it again.” He groans seeing the scene.

“Grab the things out of my back pocket. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Mikey speaks sternly.

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll actually kill each other?” Ray raises a concerned voice.

“It’s time for them to settle their differences themselves, Ray.” Mikey shakes his head as Brian grabs my arm and Franks. Suddenly cold metal is strapped around mine and Frank’s arms.

“Handcuffs!?” Both Frank and I yell in unison.

“Good luck, dipfucks. If one of you dies the other has to drag around the other’s body forever.” Brian nods at us as he leaves.

“No! No!” I shout, “Get him off of me!” I yell at Mikey.

“Learn not to kill each other and we’ll let you go.” Ray chimes in.

“We can’t play like this!” Frank snaps.

“Your problem, not ours.” shrugs Ray, and I glare at him.

I am not okay with this.

|||

“I need to shower.” I say, it's only Frank and I in this hotel room.

“Too fucking bad.” He says and I hold back everything in me that's screaming to deck him.

“Can you stop being a cunt. Just stand outside the-”

“No.” He interrupts angrily, “Sponge bath or no bath.” He snaps at me.

“Why the fuck do you hate me so much?” I demand and he just ignores me, typing on his phone. I pull my hand back and it causes him to drop his phone.

“Cunt!” He shouts.

“Go fuck yourself.” I shake my head, “I'm going to bed.”

Frank mutters angrily as we lay uncomfortably close and awkwardly in bed.

I hated my friends so much right now.

|||

Breakfast is the biggest pain in the ass. We're attached with both our dominant hands and let me just say, it's impossible.

Our elbows smack together, our wrists are red, our hands hurt. It's awful. I can't take it.

Sadly, lunch is even worse, having to eat with our heads actually pressed together. We're both absolutely miserable.

By the time we get to the venue we are so ready to murder each other or kill ourselves, we can't tell which would be worse. The place is so big and I'm so anxious. I'm shaking violently and I can tell Frank is getting annoyed by it.

I was also panicked over him finding out about my nervous issue of vomiting before shows. Not even Mikey knew about that somehow. Nobody ever found out.

I bounce my leg and shift around more than normal in my seat. Frank is grinding his teeth with anger at this point.

“Do you have to piss or something?” He snaps and I shake my head, “Then stop bouncing around like an idiot.”

I can't, I want to, but I can't.

“I… Frank I really need to get these cuffs off, like now, please.” I beg.

“You act like I want to deal with this.” He growls at me, he's pissed.

“Frank, you don't understand.” I persist.

He stands and pulls me up, “I knew you needed to piss.” He grumbles and drags me along.

“Not piss.” I say.

“Gerard no.” He glares at me.

“Not that either.” I mumble, now I’m pulling him along, knowing I’m going to vomit. I end up pulling him into the bathroom with me and he seems confused for a second until I drop to the floor.

“Whoa! What do you think you’re doing!?” He shouts and I kick him in the shin.

“Shut up, don’t draw attention.” I mutter angrily.

“Dude, what the fuck? Are you-... Gerard, do you purge?” He whispers, kneeling next to me and holding my hair. It feels so fucked up to have Frank of all people in here with me while I spill the contents of my stomach into an old, pretty gross toilet.

“No.” I cough, “I get sick when I’m too anxious… Which happens almost every show.” I give a weak smile.

“Does anybody know?” He rubs my back after tying my hair up.

“No, I’d rather not worry anybody…” I vomit promptly after I finish speaking and Frank flinches, surprised almost.

“Well, I hate you and even I’m fucking shaking with worry so yeah I can get that.” Frank says and shakes his head.

“Thanks but I’m fine. I just need to stop eating right before shows.” I sigh and sit back, tugging the band out of my hair. My hair flops down around my face and I stand, flushing the toilet with my foot. I wasn’t a fan of public bathrooms. I rinse my mouth out in the sink and Frank doesn’t bother me for once.

It was actually kind of nice not fighting him constantly.

It didn’t last long as his arm got caught in the door and we started yelling over it, threatening to kill each other. Of course, the one time we argue, Mikey shows up and shakes his head at us.

“Good luck playing like that.” He grins, finding our situation amusing.

“I fucking hate you, Mikey!” I shout as he walks off, laughing to himself, “Cunt!”

|||

The shows have been an absolute disaster. He had to play with me hooked to him, singing and moving around was a struggle. He kept fucking around with his guitar and went to toss it around himself and nailed me in the jaw and I bled so bad that they had to bandage it on stage because I refused to leave. That was only the first night. Try over a week of this. I was so banged up and I swear he's reopened that gash in my jaw with his guitar almost every night.

Being back in the hotel room was a blessing. Even though I had to have Frank practically wrapped around me, it was better than trying to beat the shit out of him while he was attached to me.

I somehow manage to get comfortable. Frank was already asleep somehow, my face hurt too bad for me to fall asleep yet. Frank mumbles incoherently in his sleep, it’s surprisingly the least annoying quality about him.

He begins to stir at probably four in the morning, his mumbles getting a bit louder.

“No…” He hums, “No! Go away!” He speaks loudly and he starts to toss and turn anxiously, practically shouting. He’s actually crying, bawling, years running down his face as they slip out of the corners of his firmly shut eyes.

“Frank.” I mumble.

“Stop! Don’t do that! No! I said no!” He starts to get a bit aggressive. I catch his free arm and start to shake him.

“Wake up! Frank, hey… Wake up.” I push him again and again but his yelling continues, “Frank! Wake up!” I shout, startling him awake. He sits upright, still in tears. I can see he’s trembling.

His hands shake as he rubs at his eyes, sniffles and hiccups shaking him. I turn the lights on and sit up, going to place a hand on his back but I end up yanking at his arm. I frown and rest my hand on his leg.

“Are you okay?” I ask and Frank doesn't look at me, only shaking his head, “How can I help?” I want to make him feel better, I'm the only one who should cause him pain is what I think for my reasoning of feeling bad for him.

“Y-... You can't…” He stammers and I frown a bit more. I decide to pull him into me, which forces him into my lap, “What-... What are you doing!?” He struggles in my arms for a second and I hug my arm around him, resting my head on his chin. He stops moving and his cheeks heat up.

“I'm trying to be comforting. Mikey used to do this to me when I would get night terrors.” I hum and feel him squeeze an arm around me, gripping onto my hand.

“Why are you helping me?” He mumbles.

“You've been helping me and I'm just trying to help you in return.” I explain. He and I may beat the fuck out of each over all the time but I felt pretty bad and this feels pretty good.

“Oh… T-... Thanks…” He says into my chest.

He shakes for a while longer, sniffling and not so much crying as whimpering. I'm exhausted but I stay awake the whole time, singing to him. That's what always calmed me down when I'd be so upset.

“Do you think this would be enough of a reason to get the handcuffs off?” I joke and he starts to shake his head.

“I don't want them to know.” He winced against me.

“Okay. Your secrets safe with me, Frank.” I told him and he pressed himself more into my chest. He fell asleep and I laid down, holding him still.

My heart was beating so hard and I couldn't sleep until probably around six.

|||

I wake up with Frank wrapped tightly around me. I stir slightly and notice that Mikey is stood at the end of the bed, taking pictures.

“Hey!” I snap and startle Frank who jumps and sits up.

“You two friends now?” Giggles Mikey.

“No!” We both shout.

“Yeah, okay. ” Mikey chuckles, “Now get up, we're going out to eat.”

“I'm not hungry.” Frank instantly says, “I forced Gerard to get up with me and we ate last night.” He lies. I give him an odd look.

“You sure? It's like four, we have to go in a bit.” Mikey says and we both nod, “Okay, we’ll be back in a while.” Mikey says as he starts to leave, “Bye losers!”

I roll my eyes and the door closes, “Why’d you do that?” I turn to Frank.

“You won’t get sick before if you don’t eat until after, right?” He smiles at me with red cheeks.

“Yeah, you’re right… Thanks.” I mumble and toss my legs over the side of the bed. Frank crawls over and climbs off the bed.

“Let’s go get ready for the concert.”

|||

I walk ahead of Frank to the dressing room, we had been wearing the same shirts for the past, probably week now and had to keep dousing each other in cologne to help us not smell like complete shit. He starts to wash his face and hair in the sink while I standby, involentarily helping.

I’d caught myself staring at him a few times. It was hard not to when you were literally handcuffed to him, but I mean, excessive staring, “Your hair's so soft.” I say without thinking. It really was surprisingly soft.

“Thanks.” He chuckles bearing his bright white teeth up at me. My heart beats too fast as he squints up at me, water dripping down in his face.

“Uh, yeah, no problem.” I cough.

“Could you please get me a towel?” He laughs and I grab him one, patting the water off of his skin. He takes it from me after a moment of watching me with a dopey grin and starts to dry his hair, my hand banging against his head as he did so.

“Frank…?” I speak.

“Yes?” He coos with his schoolgirl giggle.

“Why do you hate me?” I ask and he’s taken aback by the seriousness of my sudden question.

“Uh…” He mumbles, getting flustered and red faced, shrugging.

“Tell me.” I insist.

“I don’t have a reason…” He says awkwardly. I stay silent for a minute or so, pondering whether or not to keep pushing it.

“Yes you do.” I shove him with my arm.

“No!” His cheeks glow.

“Come on, just tell me, I won’t get mad.” I say and he shakes his head, “Well, I honestly just hate you because you’re definitely better than me.” I admit, also because he’s hot and it’s not fair.

“It’s not that you’d get mad.” He sighs.

“Then what is it?”

He shrugs at me, sighing. He seems extremely upset, trying to avoid me which was almost impossible with the cuffs on our hands. I grab his hand and he almost jumps out of his skin.

“Don’t do that!” He smacks me.

“Just tell me what’s bothering you, Frank. We already know each other’s weirdest secrets.” All except that I’m gay as fuck.

“No we don’t.” He gives me a funny look.

“Close enough.” I bump against him with a smile.

“Uh…” He’s as red as a tomato.

“I told you why I hated you, you have to tell me, it’s a rule.” I speak, “You have to, Frank.” I press and Frank gives in with a sigh.

“I like you.” He says, looking at me.

“I asked why you hate me, Frank.” I look at him like he’s crazy.

“No, I-... I’m in-... I-...” He kisses me.

I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t kiss back out of pure shock, but my heart beats too fast and my face burns. I don’t hate it.

Frank pulls back quickly, “Oh, god… I am so sorry, I couldn’t uh… Think of any other way to convey my feelings, but that didn’t work either because it makes me look stupid and it makes my feelings for you like… Even more of them have flourished and your lips are like… Nice… And I’m just gonna stop talking now because I feel really dumb…” He is so red and flustered. Frank looks really cute when he’s blushing, I realize.

“No, I-... I didn’t hate it.” I say.

“You didn’t kiss back… If you didn’t hate it then you would just… Kiss me back…” He sighs, “Well, secrets out I guess…” He frowns, “Can we pretend this didn’t happen?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Gerard, can we please just forget about it?” He begs, not looking at me.

“No, we can’t.” I reply and he looks at me in frustration and anger.

“Gerard!” He shoves me, I stumble and fall, grabbing onto Frank as I collapse onto the couch, “Forget about it okay.” He persists.

“No, I can’t.” I reply as I place a hand behind his head, resting it on the back of his neck, I pull him closer to me, kissing him myself this time. It felt good, it felt like the thing I’d been missing forever.

The door opens and we try to jump apart only ending up with me writhing in pain from Frank pulling my arm and popping it from its socket.

“Looks like you two have solved your differences and congratulations, you are free to go!” Mikey laughs.

“Yeah… To the hospital.” I grunt and Frank chuckles at me.

Mikey takes the cuffs off but in reality we we’re around each other more without the cuffs than with once they came off.

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lillaxtrigger · 7 years

Text

Orc in the box

We see a small restraunt in the middle of the city. A sign planted on the side of the roof says "Orc in the box". One employee working the friers heard someone call his name. "Peksly!" someone shouted. The employee turned around to show his pointy ears, freckly face, and red hair. "Yes boss?" Peksly says. He sees a small, slightly over weight fairy man flutters up to him and says: "I need you to clean up a big mess in the men bathroom for me. Got it.". "Yes, sir.". As soon as the boss was out of sight, he said in a quiet, but frustrated tone: "God damnit... I need something to take the edge off or I'm gonna kill somebody.". "Psst." he heard nearby. Peksly looked around and saw a blue fishman peeking behind the corner of a bun rack. He followed him to the feezer, where the fishman shut the door behind him. "What is it Charly?" Peksly asks. "You said you needed something to take the edge off. Well, check out what I got.". The fishman pulls out a bag of pink dust from his pocket and shows it to Peksly. "Is that...Fairydust?" Peksly says. "Yeaaap." Charly says. "Where did you get that stuff!?". "I can't tell. You want some?". "No, I don't want some! What the fuck is wrong with you!? Why did you bring it to work!?". "Come on dude. I need something ease the stress. This stuff is magical.". "And illegel. If we caught with this stuff, we could be arrested. Do you know what they do to elves like me in jail?". "Um...Uh..." Charly stuttered. "6 inches, in the ass, all night! I am not gonna end up there." Peksly said. They both heard a familiar voice shouting "Peksly!". Charly put the fairy dust back in his pocket as the freezer door opened. The boss looked at both of them and said: "I told you to clean the bathrooms. And Charly, get back on the grill." "Right away, sir." Peksly said. The boss flew away. As Peksly was leaving the freezer, he turned back to Charly and said quietly: "Get rid of it!". Charly gets the bag full of pink powder and wonders what to do with it. He looks around and sees all of the boxes full of burgers around him. A short while later, a hobgoblin, drinking a big cup of coffee with his burger, was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. He took a big swig of his mocha to try and stave off his fatigue. It began to work, but taking another bite of his quarter pounder served to make him feel more drowsey. A little gremlin was eating his way out of a burger, dining on the insides of the meal. As he ate, the urge to sleep suddenly struck him hard. He decided to sleep inside the meal. An orge walked by and saw the burger laying on the table. "Sweet. Someone left their burger on the table." he said, then ate the burger in one bite. Immediatly, the orge passed out. A mother minotuar and her son were eating at a table in the back. The mother notices her son is wobbling a bit and asks: "What's wrong, Marvin?". "I don't-I feel tired." the son says, then passes out. "Marvin!?" the mother says in distress. After a while, the police showed up. They started to inspect the area and help every costumer. The boss was with a police dragon, who said: "Yeah, the customers burgers have been tainted with traces of fairy dust. They'll be fine, but if we can't find out how it got there, you might not be.". "I just don't understand. How could fairy dust have gotten in here.". "Well, we did find this in the freezer.". The police dragon pulled out a small plastic bag with little bits of fairy dust inside. As the boss looked at the bag, his face turned from worry, to anger. He gathered all 6 of the employees to the back of the restraunt. Along with Peksly and Charly, we see a succubus, an imp, a big snake, and a man made entirely of apple butter. "Okay, as you all have figured out, fairy dust has gotten into the costumers food. The police have deduced that an employee here snuck it in the restruant and tried to get rid of it by sprinkling it on the food. But they did not realize how powerful fairy dust can be. Personally, I despise anybody who uses it. The thought of innocent fairies being grinded up into powder and being sold as a drug on the streets absolutly sickens me.". "Sir, I think that just might be a myth." the imp said. "That's what the board of drug education wants you to think, Manfried. Never the less, fairy dust that is not perscribed is very illegel. It is a very powerful relaxant. A small bag of the stuff can make you sleep forever. We're lucky no one has died from all this. But, the police are wanting somebody to throw in jail, and I'm sure as hell that I'm not gonna let them take me. So I'm giving all of you til the end of the day to find out which one of you decided it would be a good idea to go on a drug trip during work. Otherwise, I'll just have the police take all of you." the boss said. Everyone jumped up and the big snake said: "You can't have all of us take the blame for one person.". "Oh I can, and I will. Unless you give me someone to blame for all of this.". The boss fluttered away, leaving the rest to argue amongst themselves. As they bickered, Pecksly pulled Charly back in the freezer. "Are you out of your mind!? Out of all the places you could have dumped the stuff, you choose to dump it in the food. Why?" he said to the fishman. "I-I thought that nobody would notice the dust if it was in the food.". "Well, obviously, somebody did.". "Your not gonna sell me out, are you?" Charly asked. Peksly sighed and said: "No. But how are we gonna fix this?" "Hmm...What if we blame someone else?". "Maybe, but we can't be blatent about it. We need to be subtle on who to blame.". "But who should we blame?" Charly asked. Both of them went into thought about who should take the fall on their accident. Both of them snuck back into the crowd of employees without being noticed. Suddenly the boss fluttered in with the police dragon. "Listen up. This is officer Packbarry. He's going to be asking all of you some questions. I suggest you cooperate with him, unless one of you would like to fess up now." All six of them stood silent. The officer stood up front and said: "Alright, since we couldn't find any fingerprints on the packet. We will be asking each of you questions indivually, I want all of you to answer honestly. Um, Mr...", then looked at the boss. "Twinklebottom." he said. Some of the staff started to snicker at the sound of his last name. "Yes...Mr...Twinklebottom. Do you have any where we can use as a makeshift interigation room, someplace private?". "We have the freezer, will that work?". "It will." "Alright, If Officer Packbarry calls for you, I want you to go to the freezer. Otherwise, get back to work". In the freezer, Officer Packbarry and Peksly were sitting next to a table that the police set up out of boxes. "So, what do you do around here, kid?" the officer said. "I just- I just flip burgers, all day. Sometimes I clean the bathrooms and it fucking sucks. I was once ordered to kick out a homeless man that took up shelter in the bathroom. He bit my hand so hard that I had to get stitches. And our asshole of a boss wouldn't compensate for the medical bills. With no health insurance, I had to pay for them out of my own salery. Not that I get much to begin with.", He brought Manfried in to enterigate next. "Me? Uh-well. I just run the fryers. "With staring at burning grease all day, I've actually had to get contacts for my eyes. It fucked up my vision. That's not the worst of it. This time the grease trap was full, it had to be cleaned out. We were out of safety gloves. Cleaning it out can be very dangerous, you could risk burning your hand. Our boss made me clean the trap anyway. And even when I was being very careful, like the most careful that I could possibly be. I got my middle finger burned while clean. It hurt like, really badly. I thought that it was going to be burnt off, I would have haft to have it amputated. I couldn't go to the hospital, I couldn't even sue for workers compinsation because of the less the minimum wage salery. Anyway, the drugs got in the burgers, right? So as far as I can see, I'm in the clear.". "The drugs were suspected to be dumped in the burgers in the freezer to get rid of them. Any one of the staff could have brought them." Packberry mentioned. "Oh...huh...Okay...". "Look just tell us who you think snuck them in.". "Uh...Well I think that maybe Charly did it. He's works in packing process, handing out frozen food for preperation. I bet he put the dust there to try and get rid of it.". Charly was brought in next. "Me? No. Honestly, there isn't much going on in the position that I work at. Sometimes you have to deal with the occasional racoon every now and again, but other then that, it's pretty lack luster and boring. If anything, I'm bored out of my mind.". "Any problems at home, maybe?" Packberry asked. "...Well...My, uh...My parents are getting divorced. 17 years they've been together. And now they're just breaking up. I don't even know why. It's, uh...it's been a little rough.". "I'm sorry to here all that. But would you mind helping us? Who do you suspect?". "Well, have you tried the guys at run the cashier or the drive through window. If I had those jobs, I'd probably use something to take the edge off.". They then brought in the giant snake. "So uh, Mr..." Packberry said. "Ms." the snake corrected. "Oh! Uh...". "Sarah.". "Right! Ms. Sarah. Tell me, what's it like working at the drive through?" "Well I have to listen to a bunch of customers orders, all day, everyday. They drone on and on sometimes. Other times the speakers don't work right and I miss hear the customers orders, having them get the wrong food. I, of course, get the bulk of the shit for it throw my way. But we wouldn't have the problem if the boss would just replace the speakers. He has the money. It got so bad, that one time, an order got messed up. The lady who ordered it got so mad, that she tried to strangle me through the window. I closed the window to try and stop her, but she broke through. I spit my venom at her in self defense and afterward, she threathened to sue us. Our boss paid her compensation out of my paycheck. It's just working here is so frustrating sometimes.". The succubus was then called in for questioning. Looking disinterested, she said: "Yeah, so working here? It sucks. "...Anything paticular on why it sucks. "Working at the cashier is awful. Having to listen and take down peoples orders while keeping fake smile on all day is the worse. It gets really bad when some idiot customer comes in and makes a comlpete jackass of himself. This one time, I got yelled at for not haing some stupid sauce in stock. It's not my fault that you can't get your sauce. It got so out off hand that the customer broke a table in half. Guess where the money to replace it came from.". The man made of apple butter was next. "You know how some people make jokes about how their jobs makes them want to kill themselves? This job actually makes you feel like that. The mind numbing long hours, the people that come in and out, our cheap boss. Everyday, we feel our sense of life slip less and less. That reason to not end it all inching farther away as time goes on. Soon, you just feel dead inside. You'll want anything to numb that feeling.". "Okay, uh...That- that will be all.". Packberry gathered everyone up and told them: "Okay, judging from the testimonies gathered from everyone, and from the fact that the bag doesn't have any fingerprints on them, we have pinned it to two suspects. The fishman, and the made of...whatever he's made of. Now however, judging from your postitions of work and what all of you have to do on a daily basis, we have deduced that the one who has brough in the drugs is...". Everyone is in anticipation, waiting for the officers response. "...You.". He points to the man made of apple butter. "What!? No! It wasen't me! I swear!". Two police ogres grabbed his arms and dragged him out of th restraunt. The accused pleading not to go. "Hmm, glad we got that all sorted out. To think that someone would stoop so low like that. Whelp, time to get back to work." the boss said. "Er, not so fast. I'm afraid your gonna have to come with us too, Mr. Twinklebottom." Packberry said as be put a pair of tiny handfuffs on the boss. "What! Why!?". "Well, gathering from your staff, we've learned that you've violated several workers union claus's. Including, underpaying your workers, charging them for damages beyond their control, employee endangerment, refusing to give workers compensation, and unsanitary working conditions." "No! You can't do this! Who's going to run the restraunt! All of them are drug addicts, they all brought the fairy dust in!!!" the boss shouted as he was being dragged outside. The employees stood alone in the restraunt. "So does this mean that we're out of a job?" Peksly asked. "I guess so." Charly said. A moment of silence passed before all of them cheered in joy. The succubus picked up Manfried and kissed him. As everyone dance, Charly whispered to Peksly: "Hey, thanks for not ratting me out." "No problem, but don't do something that stupid like that again, I might not me able to cover for you, next time.". "Deal. Wanna hang out and take some fairy dust." Peksely sighed and said: "Sure.".

#lillaxtrigger

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ceslatoil · 8 years

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Starcrossed, Chapter One: Where We Lay Our Scene

When it was discovered that McGucket Manor was in dire need of groceries, McGucket and Puck traveled to the supermarket together that afternoon, as it had always been since Puck had entered the old man's service. This was a good arrangement, as both were able to keep the other in check when it came to choosing the right foods; McGucket would live off of baked beans forever if he could get away with it, and Puck still hadn't grasped that humans shouldn’t eat nothing but dessert every day. Puck was pushing the shopping cart down the aisle, with McGucket sitting in the metal basket, surrounded by veggies and boxes of cereal, looking quite relaxed as they wandered through the store. A few people were staring, but to be fair, if you or I saw a white haired fairy with black beetle wings pushing around an old man in a shopping cart, I think it’s safe to assume that we’d probably start gawking at them as well. It’s not personal. While there were many people staring at the two housemates bickering over groceries, one character in particular seemed to have caught the attention of Puck. There, by the bakery, stood a young man in his mid twenties: he was tall with dark, wavy hair and a bright, charming smile, he tilted his head at Puck, as if he was trying to recognize him. Puck stared back. Not because the stranger was handsome, oh no, thought Puck, or the fact that he had a little dimple that showed whenever he smiled at him, and that in and of itself was making Puck feel warm and light; no, that was definitely not the reason Puck was staring so intently at this new, pretty stranger. Not even a little bit. Nope. No sir. He was staring back because he wanted to intimidate him. (yes, that sounds about right, thought Puck). Who does this gorgeous little punk think he is, staring at me, making me feel all weird… I’ll just… keep staring at him, he thought, that’ll teach him! Puck glowered at the stranger, bearing his sharp, shark-like teeth at the man. For sure it would have been a lot more intimidating if Puck wasn’t dressed in a fluffy, lake foam green sweater that practically engulfed his thin frame; it was like seeing a bundled up puppy trying to act tough in front of strangers. But for all his efforts, Puck didn’t seem to be getting anywhere with this stranger, in fact, it looked as if the man was starting to laugh at the weird little gremlin. And a good laugh it was too, Puck noticed, nice and warm sounding, and did that smile of his just get prettier? That’s no fair, thought the Fae, you can’t just start looking prettier after laughing like that, it’s completely disarming! “Puck? Everything all right?” McGucket asked as the Fae stared down the stranger. Puck blinked. He was so taken by the beauty of this mysterious stranger that he had forgotten what he was doing. “Um… where am I again?” Puck asked no one in particular. You’re at a grocery store, staring at the gorgeous man eyeing the blueberry muffins. “Yes… that does sound about right,” Puck admitted, once again overcome with a wave of attraction. You’re also drooling a little bit. “Whoops,” said Puck, wiping off a trail of saliva from the corner of his mouth. “… Who the Sam Hill are you talking to,” asked McGucket, confused. “I never said a word,” lied Puck, pushing his cart down the aisle to get a better look at the man. In fact, the man was walking over to meet them. A jolt of panic overcame Puck for a few seconds, but he put on his usual smirk once the stranger approached him. “Excuse me,” said the man, his voice deep and booming, “I don’t mean to sound like a creep, but are you Robyn-Goodfellow21?” “Depends on who’s asking,” said Puck smoothly, his great, silvery eyes piercing as always as he gazed up at the stranger. Damn, why does he have to be so tall, he thought. “Well, I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody with a conditional identity before,” quipped the stranger, “but my name is Charlie De La Fuente; I’m an intern at the local news station.” “Hey wait a minute,” said McGucket, pointing at Charlie, “I’ve seen you! You were at that restaurant when that feller attacked the news lady with his terrible music and exploding cake!” “Well, that’s the best summary I’ve ever heard about that whole catastrophe,” Charlie laughed. “Ah, but you must be Goodfellow21,” he said, turning his attention back to Puck, “I recognize him from your video ‘McGucket Hates Celery.’” “McGucket Hates Celery” was a video Puck had posted online a few weeks ago. He had discovered, after bringing home buffalo wings one evening, that his boss, well, hated celery. He had glared at the little green stalk all though out dinner; this had amused Puck so much that he compiled a video made of nothing but clips of McGucket finding stalks of celery hidden around the house and him reacting angrily to the loathed vegetable. Puck’s favorite moment had been McGucket finding a stalk in the bouquet his boyfriend had bought him, McGucket had taken one look and slammed the whole arrangement over Ford’s head, all while screaming at the top of his lungs. “Well,” said Puck, grinning sheepishly as McGucket shot him a brief glare, “I guess I stand guilty of all charged. My name is Puck and that video you described is my best work.” “Ah ha,” said Charlie, who grabbed Puck’s hand and shook it at once, “I’m so glad to finally meet you! I’ve been a fan ever since I found your Snapgram page, your videos always brighten up my day!” “It’s true,” said Puck, beaming as the man gripped his slender hand tightly, “I am pretty great. You have good taste.” “The confidence,” said Charlie happily; he shot McGucket another friendly look before adding, “I feel so lucky to have run into you and your son today, it’s nice to meet someone as talented with a camera as Puck!” “He’s not my father,” said Puck, a bit too abruptly. There was an awkward pause as McGucket pursed his lips at this snub. Charlie quickly recovered. “Oh, sorry, an easy mistake,” he said, giving Puck’s hand a slight squeeze. Puck blushed as Charlie continued, “I just naturally assumed that such handsome men would be related.” McGucket’s frown thawed away as he descended into a fit of giggles. 'You really are too charming for your own good,” said Puck, smirking at Charlie with rising affection. “Well, I’m certainly glad you think so,” said Charlie with a wink; he glanced at his watch and added, “I’m sorry, but I have to go; the crew wants me to pick up a box of doughnuts—“ “I’m heartbroken that one of my adoring fans thinks store-bought doughnuts are in any way an acceptable form of pastry,” said Puck with mock horror. “Well,” said Charlie, pulling a cream-colored card from his pocket, “If you ever feel like suggesting something better, just give my number a call.” Charlie winked at Puck again as he placed the card in the Fae’s hand. “I hope I see you around, Puck!” Charlie grabbed his box of doughnuts and left them behind. Puck sighed as he stared at the delicate card Charlie had left with him. “What a delightful person,” said Puck, his tone smitten as he crumpled the card into a little ball, pitching it over his shoulder. Appalled, McGucket rescued the number by catching the paper in his hands. “That wasn’t very nice,” he chided Puck as the Fae pushed the cart out of the aisle. “No, I suppose it wasn’t,” said Puck, feigning interest in a box of pasta noodles. “I thought he was a sweet boy,” said McGucket, crossing his arms across his chest. “Yes, I do suppose he was very sweet and boyish,” said Puck, still staring at the pasta box. “He was awful handsome too, I reckon,” said McGucket pointedly. “Yes, I suppose if you like that sort of type,” sniffed Puck. “What type?” “Oh you know,” said Puck, putting down the pasta box to stare at a different one instead, “The charming, witty type that come in tall, dark and handsome; the kind that still has all their teeth and look as if they’ve actually read something outside of the third grade.” “He was definitely that kind,” agreed McGucket, “and he seemed to like you an awful lot.” “Oh really,” said Puck, still trying to sound completely bored by this conversation. “Yeah! Ya ought to call him,” said McGucket, holding up the crumpled paper to Puck’s eyes. “Sorry,” said Puck, sounding not sorry in the least, “but I’m utterly hopeless at this sort of thing.” “Ya seemed to be doing fine earlier,” countered McGucket. “This summer heat has you seeing things,” said Puck firmly. He refused to speak any more about the conversation they had with Charlie, instead he began bolting up and down the aisle with the cart, ignoring everyone and everything as he tried not to think about how heart melting Charlie’s smile was… Puck was so lost in his reverie that he didn’t notice he had bumped into somebody until he heard the sound of McGucket shrieking and the metal carts clashing against each other. “Cart fights,” cheered Mabel Pines, who, like McGucket, was sitting in the cart’s basket among an assortment of groceries. She waved cheerfully at the two of them as she said, “Hiya Puck! Hey McGucket! Aw, Puck, you’re wearing the sweater I made you! You look so cute!” Mabel’s cart was being pushed by Wendy Corduroy, who shot Puck an icy look; clearly she still hadn’t forgiven Puck for his earlier behavior this summer. “Well, hello Mabel,” said Puck, cheerfully ignoring Wendy’s continued death glare, “you’re right, I do look cute! And what may I ask are you up to today?” He saw that their basket was full of popcorn and sodas; perhaps the Mystery Shack was throwing another dance? “Nothing,” said Wendy curtly. “We’re just… getting supplies. Emergency supplies. For the apocalypse.” “Oh no, not again,” said McGucket, panicking. “Puck, we gotta get more beans! Quickly now!” “Don’t be silly,” said Mabel, waving her hand and Wendy, “We’re getting stuff for movie night!” “Ooooooh, that sounds great,” said Puck with a grin, “I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday night!” “Why don’t you come over then,” Mabel asked without looking at Wendy, who looked disgusted with the very thought, “Dipper’s going too; we’re all totally overdue to hang out in a non-life-or-death situation!” “Well,” said Puck, pulling at the collar of his sweater uneasily. “I don’t know… I have a lot of plans for tonight, I don’t think I can make it—“ “Oh, he ain’t got no plans,” snapped McGucket, “get him out of my house!” Wendy pinched the bridge of her nose. Eventually, she looked up and said, “Fine. Party’s at my house around six. Bring a snack.” “Bye Puck!” cheered Mabel as Wendy pulled the cart away from them. “See you tonight!” When the girls were gone, Puck glared at McGucket and said, “what in the world did you do that for?” “That’s for throwing away that nice man’s number,” said McGucket. “Of course, if ya wanted to just give him a call after all you can just skip out on the party!" Puck growled before turning his cart around. “Where are we goin’?” asked McGucket. “To get ingredients for whatever dish I’m going to make for this blasted party,” said Puck haughtily. “I think I might want to pick up some celery as well. Lots of it.”

#long post #Fiddleford McGucket #Mabel Pines #wendy courderoy #Puck #ceslatoil's fic fix #some enchanted evening au #implied fiddauthor

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