#honestly i find it really fucking creepy how so many people are so desperate to kneel before ai as their new god

[creature-wizard]

This article is from October (don’t love the URL but the Mo Gawkdat is reputable) and the argument for potentiality is still a very real concern by Nobel Laureates. It��s not even a matter of if but when and it appears to already be happening. Embrace the new era, friend!

Yeah, this Google dude is just straight-up wrong. Literally go search Qwant or DuckDuckGo for "why AI is not sentient" and you will find plenty of articles explaining why.

[stackslip]

I'm curious, at the point where you're at in FMA 03, have you met Dante yet? I'm curious at what you think of her.

late but now that i'm done: i adore her. like, she could have benefited from a few more episodes' worth of development (like envy, really, and many other aspects of the ending that were clearly VERY rushed for time), but i fucking *love* what we got of her. i find her a thousand times more compelling and thematically appropriate an antagonist than father is.

the first thing i enjoy about her is that she is, fundamentally, a human. she claims to have surpassed humanity and looks down on them, but she is a real human person who just happens to have used alchemy to extend her own life, and the process costs not only her but everyone! she isn't a supernatural being, and in fact her bodies are all extremely fragile even outside of the whole rotting thing. what she is is really the ultimate alchemist: someone who really does see the world and everyone within it as material to be analysed, decomposed, and recomposed to her will. someone who dehumanizes others so profoundly they are just tools to her, things to be manipulated or destroyed or remodeled at her will, and who's fundamentally baffled when they react as people. but outside of being that good an alchemist, she's also just....... human. she's scared, and petty, and honestly a bit cringe and old-fashioned. she's cunning and used to manipulating people and movements, but she's good in that human, predatory and slimy way rather than as an inhuman force of evil. her motives too are human! she wants to keep living. she claims to be above it all but she is really just another human, among many MANY in the show, who struggle with the concept of dying and letting go of an idealized life. she isn't special among them! she isn't particularly unique in her motivation! she's one of a dozen characters of fma 03 who cannot cope with death as a part of life.

the second thing i enjoy is, how despite her manipulations and how she is, in essence, responsible for everything the brothers have been through (they wear her mark without knowing it for most of their life for fuck's sake!) she is not actually the only one with agency in the world, and while she pushes amestrian towards its genocidal policies the show makes it very very clear clear that she is not solely responsible for them, and that excising her does not suddenly make everything better or end racism or all that fucking nonsense lmfao, it's so clear that really, dante has been taking advantage of existing prejudices and amestris's own imperialist ambitions for her own gain. amestrians support the genocides and wars! it brings them resources, and national pride, and racial superiority! it strengthens the might of state alchemists! again what dante is is first and foremost a manipulator. the homonculi are all lost, and hollow, and desperate OR they are her own creations from past lovers and children she views as her property and lies to. they are inhuman and yet genuinely intimidated by her. she knows what buttons to press. dante doesn't implant or create things in others, she takes advantage of what is there and remolds it to her desire! equivalent exchange if you will :)))

third reason is: again. she is slimy. she is cringe. she is predatory but in a weird flailing way. she is so obviously a predator, and a very much older woman who knows nothing about the times and thinks she's still hot shit. she is sloppy at times in her handiwork. she is deeply, unbelievably petty. she is so awful it becomes campy. she throws a baby in the air for fun and experiments. she is so mad hoheinheim got himself a wife she uses the wife's homonculus for fun. she is EXCEEDINGLY creepy about rose and sexualizes and exoticizes her openly in a way that feels.... genuinely real and pathetic and racist (she is racist tbc, the narrative is v clear about it and isn't doing this for fun points). i think there need to be more evil girlfailure villains who aren't like just, hot sex machines but are this kind of realistic kind of everyday awful and evil.

fourth reason is that she's an excellent foil to a number of characters, starting with hoheinheim obviously and his own fucked up actions, and his own predatory nature towards younger women (and btw just like.... the little we get of their relationship and interactions has my head spinning, it's so good and juicy) and refusal to accept death until he does. but also edward--she isn't just trying to convince him bc he's hoheinheim's son and she's a fucking creepy, but bc again and again the narrative has shown that ed IS teethering on the edge of morality with his alchemy, that his curiosity and drive to prove he CAN do these incredible things deemed impossible, that he IS no ordinary alchemist and his love for al can lead him to dark places. he isn't dante, not yet! he turns away from her values! but had dante played her cards a bit better, maybe he could have been. and of course there's the izumi parallel too: izumi, dante's student who flees her master because there's something wrong with that woman; who grieves her son and tries to bring him back and is stuck with the homonculus that resulted--where dante tried to resurrect her son and used him as a tool. and all those who committed human transmutation in the name of bringing back lost loved ones, when pride and greed are said to be based on dante's former lovers she killed and controlled. did she ever really love them? was her first transmutation genuinely out of grief? when did she lose sight of the common humanity at the core of these other people? was it from the start, or did she lose it gradually as her soul rotted with her bodies?

i think that's also one of the most fascinating aspects of dante. she is, for all intents and purposes, a living corpse who refuses to die and move on. a zombie. in a show full of ghosts and people who are unable to die or move on, in a show about how idealizing the past and trying to freeze it or recreate a pitch perfect version of it stops you from seeing the love and possibilities right in front of your nose. and nowhere is that seen more than in dante: whose bodies rot faster and faster and yet she keeps believing she can fix it. she can use a thousand more lives to let her use a body for a few more months. why should she have to die and move on? why can't the world just stop for her? it should. everyone in fma 2003 keeps trying to repeat the past, to start up the same old cycles, to drag the long dead and buried kicking and screaming into the present. dante literally lives in a city so old and forgotten people have forgotten its existence and that it is the foundation on which central is built. she drags the bones of the homonculi's former selves to threaten them. she tries to immediately start up a relationship with her ex's son, believing she can remodel him to her liking. she takes and she takes and she takes. she has forgotten that one is all and all is one and that all struggles are connected, that the old must give to the new, that you cannot make the same mistakes over and over and get what you want whenever. she is rotten inside and out. i think it's fitting then, that she isn't killed by ed or al's hand, but that she simply storms off mad when things don't go according to plan (because she is just that petty) and that she is killed by the rebound of her own actions of untethering gluttony. she has so thoroughly dehumanized others, literally and figuratively, that she gets swallowed by the results of it, and dies the same pathetic death that the priest did in episode 2, and marcoh did, and many others that she sent gluttony to clean up.

like gd i do wish we could have gotten another full ten eps of her. but i'm also fine with her as she is. she sucks so bad. she's so delicious to dive into, the layers of her fucked up ness.

[sparkling-pink-lemonade]

I've been curious to look into Springtrap and Deliah, as I've seen some of the art of it and really liked the style, and hadn't previously heard of it. All I knew was that the relation between the two title characters was suspiciously close, and I was down to see more.

So when I see a video called "The DISGUSTING Truth About Springtrap and Deliah", I just think "oh good, an anti, now I know I'm gonna get all the juicy, hardly censored, invasive details". And I was so fucking right. Not only do I get a summary of the comic so detailed, that I honestly don't even need to read it for myself, but I get to see the drama around it in one sitting.

I just wanna rant about the stupidity of the video~

The creator of the video just keeps going and going about how abusive and creepy springtrap is, and how that would be fine if it was portrayed as a bad thing, rather than trying to "guilt trip" the audience into feeling bad for springtrap. Like honey, honey noo. That's the fucking point. This may be surprising, but even the most horrific people are still fucking people. They aren't one dimensional, mustache twirling villains. Plus, don't forget that unreliable narrator is a thing that is commonly used in storytelling. Not to mention, you want the comic to show how the relationship is bad, and springtrap needs to get far far away from deliah? Why the fuck then do you think the light/good ending features springtrap leaving her life for good, and trying to figure his shit out without her?

Also, when getting into the "dark truth about the author", it's fucking hilarious to see this warning not once, but twice. The second time, censoring the word "proship" with a zero. I get that "demonetization" is a thing, but if you had even half an ounce of respect or maturity for the topic you're approaching, monetization shouldn't matter, and you'd use the full and correct spelling of the subjects you are warning about, rather than using L33T SP34K to censor yourself.

Continuing, between these warnings the youtuber goes "the creator really liked to draw them and roleplay them in romantic and sexual relationships that were extremely violent and often non-consensual in nature. Yeah, absolutely disgusting".

That's like, just your opinion man.

"And cause I know there's gonna be at least one person that's gonna say something like 'oh but it's fictional, they're just characters, it doesn't hurt anyone,' first of all shut up. It's still weird and I don't like you."

Why? Afraid of a decent argument? You just gave two opinions and one opinion was directed at your opponent, rather than backing your claim of why this is disgusting. And anyone who uses weird as an insult needs to grow up.

"Second of all, [proceeds to describe how the author was manipulative towards friends, and used their fame to pressure others into doing erp, while showing a screenshot of someone claiming the creator would threaten to self harm for attention] And if you think THAT'S okay by any means, shut up, I double don't like you."

Holy shit man, first, correlation =/= causation. Just cause the creator was extremely mentally ill, and wrongfully hurt people due to their insecurities (everyone is sooo supportive of being there for the mentally ill, until they actually start showing symptoms that aren't pretty), doesn't mean that the depiction of fictional characters in taboo fantasies causes an inherent harm or encouragement of toxic behavior.

Seriously, if you think the author didn't know these negative traits were so wrong, and desperately wanted, yet feared, being held accountable for their actions, feeling trapped by their own issues, why the hell do you think they projected onto springtrap so hard, only for the good ending to have them lose their first and only friend in order to open up the door to accountability and self improvement? The creator was fucking 16 at the time! A time where more often than not, many teens suffering from mental illness find their issues taking a sudden nosedive in severity, drowning in the deep end, desperately searching for any coping mechanism. Being able to show that level of self awareness and desire to improve while navigating their darker thoughts with art is amazing. Even if they were far from perfect and were a terrible friend at the time, it's still something for a 16 year old.

So get over your fucking high horse and stop justifying your disgust towards dark fiction with your thinly veiled ableism.

Also youtuber really said they'd be heavily censoring the more nsfw screenshots, but they are hardly censored, only blurring half the words that could refer to erogenous body parts, while keeping the others in. Plus the blurring is a weak gaussian blur, so you can still easily read the words that are blurred. It's a pathetic attempt to play the better, pure role-model, while putting in 0 effort to what you claim.

funny at the end that they ask proshippers not to interact, watch their videos, and respect their boundaries

like damn, you sure couldn't respect the fact that sharing 7 year old private sexual dms of someone who was 16 definitely violates several boundaries

anyway that is all, time to remove this from my watch history so youtube doesn't recommend me more of their shit

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Can I ask for a ranking of which rogues have the most to least rizz (ability to flirt) and why?

"The Rizz" General Rogues Party

OKAY. Best flirters to Worst! Note that a several of the middle people are same-ish in my mind so take solid rankings with a grain of salt.

Tw: Mentions of crimes such as drugging, hypnotism, etc. One suggestive line.

Poison Ivy- Before being poisoned by her colleague/boss, Pamela was incredibly shy and socially awkward. The poisons and toxins injected into her body did something... peculiar. She became an expert in knowing exactly what to say to ease into people's minds. That plus the chemicals she can leak out as an aphrodisiac, it doesn't take much to pull someone to her embrace.

Ra's Al Ghul- He's been around the metaphorical block so many times. He has the charm, the wit, the looks- It's probably a good thing he's so invested in his own plans and less on romance, or he'd be sweeping people off their feet right and left. His powers of seduction would be unreal.

Mr. Freeze- Okay, hear me out. You hardly see the game because he's so in love with Nora. That and the genuine trauma and angst of his whole backstory. However, he is a romantic man and knows the meaning of a gesture. If he was able to find room in his heart for another, they would know the what real devotion felt like.

Riddler- The main reason he's considered good at flirting is that silver tongue. He has the intelligence and grand vocabulary to charm the pants off of someone. His big issue comes down to him being so fucking arrogant and smug. If you ignore that, though, and embrace any awkwardness that he shows... he's still on the end of good flirter.

Killer Croc- Honestly? He's average. He's not bad at flirting but he's not particularly great, either. The real problem for him tends to be past anger issues flaring up which is very not sexy.

The Penguin- He's not the worst at flirting but he's decidedly below average. He doesn't have the best table manners, sometimes he can be rather crass and he's used to having to buy things to get them. Like "people" and "affection", for example.

Harley Quinn- She's her own brand of flirting which can be very hit or miss. You love it or hate it. It's goofy, in your face and sometimes she takes it that step too far. It's needy. As confident as she is, there's still this gnawing desperate need for the approval of people she likes.

Two-Face- The unfortunate thing about Two-Face... Harvey is all schoolboy loveliness, considerate, and caring. Harv is adrenaline rush, passion and "showing you a good time." While they're technically good at flirting, having both styles in one person and sometimes back to back can be disorienting, particularly if one puts you off.

Mad Hatter- Listen, it's not that he doesn't know how to flirt. He knows how to court someone and make them feel special. If he's lucid, he can have the most stimulating conversations. The problem is that he tends to make most romantic interactions incredibly creepy. That's leaving out the drugging, hypnotism, and abduction habits.

Bane- It's not that he can't flirt with someone he's comfortable with, but just meeting someone? He's blunt, calculating and sometimes even smug. Growing up in a prison didn't do a lot for his social skills, particularly soft, intimate ones. Logically he knows what to do and might even be able to play at it if he wanted, but really a lot of his genuine rizz wouldn't come out until later on in a relationship.

Scarecrow- For all his intelligence and capacity for witty wordplay, flirting is not this man's game. He is bristly and a lot of his ideas of romance is very macabre metaphors of fear and death. For some people that works and for others it's just way too intense. That, and he's just arrogant enough that if someone doesn't get his gestures, he writes it off as them being the problem.

Black Mask- Anger issues, entitlement, gruff as hell, and has enough of that rich douchebag in him still that he thinks negging is a valid form of flirting. The sex is hot as hell, though.

Zsasz - Anything he thinks is romantic or even sexy flirty is going to be obscenely sleazy and/or threatening. At one point he used to be charming which eased his path to the criminal life. Now he'll make gestures that are not only creepy, but zero grace or finesse behind it.

[ryuichirou]

Replies~

Hi! Here are some more replies. A couple of general ones, and then quite a lot twst and ships related~

Anonymous asked:

I always assumed it was the royal we. Honestly still probably gonna assume that for both of you, ya dropped this 👑 👑

Oh god 😭 Never expected us to become royalty, you’re too kind, Anon lol I should keep my ego in check!! But then again, the crown is so shiny and nice… Maybe I shouldn’t….

Katsu is going to end up managing both me and our kingdom lol

Anonymous asked:

So I just learned that creator of black butler also is also in charge of the main plan, main script AND character design for twisted wonderland and I was wondering if you knew that cause I aware that you're also into black butler so I just thought it was an  interesting fact

Yeah, of course! It was one of the reason we got so into TWST in the first place. Toboso is such a hard worker that loves her projects so much, it’s very inspiring and admirable. We love her writing a lot and wouldn’t be in twisted wonderland at all if it wasn’t for her, especially for her writing.

Anonymous asked:

I will always find Floyd calling Kalim 'Sea Otter' hilarious because otters are little shits and some of them even eat eels and octopus.

I had to google it, and oh my god you’re so right. There are so many images of sea otters eating both eels and octopuses, Kalim is HELLA DANGEROUS-

Floyd is usually so spot-on with his nicknames though, and with Kalim he just said something about him being cute. He… should know, right?

hipsterteller asked:

I saw the azul x idia pocky shame for Idia although I wonder if Crewel knows and does that to Trein

Crewel is definitely aware about the game; he is still quite a youngster after all. But I think it depends on his mood. If he is playful, he could tease Trein with the pocky thing, just to see him get confused, and then flustered, and then say something about Crewel being immature. He’ll still manage to make Trein play the pocky game with him though. Maybe after Trein loses to him in chess or something~

Anonymous asked:

RSA!Silver AU aka Silver's Harem of Boyfriends that he oblivious to having

He’s going to be so confused when people start calling him a cheater for being with so many guys at once :”(

Anonymous asked:

Wait if Neige is shipped w Vil and Epel does that mean he's a top

Yep! Well, to us he is. We haven’t thought much about anything nsfw with him yet though, but I guess the trope of a soft and gentle princessy prince works very well with him. (Especially if you play with the idea of him being unexpectedly and unintentionally creepy)

Anonymous asked:

Lol imagine the dwarves giving Epel a shovel talk when they find out that he kissed Neige.

That would be unexpected lol And funny.

Although I feel like the dwarves are going to do something worse than a shovel talk. They’re probably going to be so horribly, terribly, satanically nice and delightful about this whole thing, that Epel would think that he would rather have them threaten him for kissing their precious Neige. These guys are way too supportive, it’s messed up!!

Anonymous asked:

Ace has definitely walked in on FloJami fucking in the locker room after basketball practice more than once

Lucky Ace!! People don’t usually survive this one, but he managed to do it more than once?! – wow that sounds like a slogan for a movie...

I guess Floyd is doing such a great job at fucking Jamil that poor Jamil stopped noticing his surroundings. Truly impressive, as expected of our local sex machine lol

Or maybe Jamil did notice Ace? Then Ace had to sit through such an annoying lecture of paranoia-driven Jamil about how he can’t tell anyone about this… Siiiiiigh! Ace just wants people to stop having sex left and right. 😔

Anonymous asked:

How I imagine Ortho x Vil would go:

Ortho & Vil: *missing their own business on a date*

Random Person: So the rumors are true! Vil really is so desperate for a date and so lacking in options that he resorted to getting an AI boyfriend! How pathetic!

Ortho: Silence, Background Character!  *Uses his laser beam on them *

Vil: I appreciate the sentiment, but please don't make a habit of it. My reputation would take a big hit.

Awww, poor Ortho, no one lets him use his laser beam anymore :( He’s just trying to silence non-important people who have nothing nice to say~

Such a little yandere lol, I’m sorry Vil, you’ll have to get used to it.

Anonymous asked:

Woke up in the middle of the night with a burning question to send here, but alas, I forgor..... 🤔 well, goodnight 🚶‍♂️

LOL goodnight, Anon!! I hope you remember your burning question when you get some rest…

[desertdxg]

man how did u find the hottest kinkiest ppl to play with teach me ur ways

im not sure if this was a rhetorical question or not BUT i'm gonna answer it seriously and in way too much detail anyway because i had some Thoughts (tm) while writing this

SO alright anon let me give ya the flowk1ng method to finding and getting the hottest kinkiest people to play with you (tho your mileage may vary):

Step 1: Download Grindr (or a similar hookup app, i really only use Grindr tho so this answer will be focussed on my experiences on there). You instantly have access to so many hot people who are probably pretty kinky just by doing this (but also- if you're trans like me anon, be careful because there are people on there who are chasers / creepy about it. The block button is your best friend!)

Step 2: Fill out your details, including kinks/things you're into, what you want out of experiences, if you can host or not, limits, etc. I am very direct in my Grindr bio. It doesn't stop the occasional dumbass from waltzing into my messages asking to eat my pussy, but it will let those hot kinky people know that you might be a good match for them

Step 3: Go message some people! Put yourself out there! I always chat people for a while before meeting up and make crystal clear what we want to happen in this encounter, what we're into, limits, establishing a safeword (if necessary). Usually your genuine creeps will reveal themselves pretty quickly, even if they don't mean to. It is insane how easily creeps tell on themselves and don't even know it. Never be desperate to meet up with someone- it's never ended well for me whenever i've done it. Good communication and transparency are key to making any good sexual/kinky relationship work. You'll find a lot of your best guys (like the ones i tend to talk about) this way, because they value those same things.

Pro Tips, some of these are lighthearted, others very serious:

1. The block button is your best friend! No really. It is. Get well acquainted with it. I have a very long Grindr blocklist because of someone who squicked me out, or was an asshole, and i've really only had like 2 bad Grindr experiences because of this.

2. Do not EVER compromise on your boundaries. EVER. If you're talking with someone, no matter how hot they seem, or how good they talk dirty and get ya goin, if they can't respect your boundaries and limits they need to kick rocks. I've compromised for a few guys and it's never been worth it.

3. Just because someone messages you does not mean they are entitled to a response from you. There are guys on all these apps, not just Grindr, who seem to think otherwise. This circles back to tip #1- the block button is your best friend.

4. A few red flags for Grindr usernames/bios i've come across:

- Capital Ts: if someone has a name like "👀 2 parTy" or something in that vein, they are typically into hard drugs, most specifically, crystal meth. If that's not your scene, avoid like the plague.

- 👀TS / TS only / 4 TS / etc.: Basically if someone has "TS" in their username, especially if they have "seeking" / "looking for" before the "TS", they're a trans chaser/fetishizer. These guys also tend to be super fucking weird. I've met no normal guy with "TS" in their username or bio.

- DL or str8: These guys aren't out of the closet or open about their sexuality, which is fine! That's not the part I have a problem with. I'm actually personally stealth in my normal day to day life. But because of that, a lot of these guys tend to be huge pricks and can get very aggressive in a not sexy way. I just tend to avoid them personally

5. I use a lot of little emojis (specifically these 3: 🥰🥵🥺) when texting guys. i also tend to type in all lowercases. i'll also reply with 'mmm' or 'fuck' a lot if they say something particularly hot. For some reason it works really well with those hot kinky types you're looking for.

6. A lot of this is honestly just trying things and seeing what sticks. You eventually find a rhythm for how you wanna dirty talk, or flirt, or just generally be when you're getting ready to have some fun. What I described in #5 is what works best for me, but that may not be the case for you and that's fine! If you've found a good one for you, it'll be pretty easy to find that flow and it'll almost come natural. And tbh bouncing ideas off each other and fantasizing together between sessions is honestly one of the most fun parts of having a long term sexual relationship with someone.

7. I only give out off-app contact info (like my phone #, for example) after I've met someone in person and gotten a good feel for how they are. And after I've seen if we actually have chemistry and if i could see myself hooking up with them again. I highly recommend doing the same, it's worked very well for me so far.

Also sorry that this got so long and got into kind of dark territory at times, I just really want ya to be safe, anon (and anyone else reading), in your quest to find your own hot kinky people to have fun with! I hope this helps, haha

Thanks a bunch for the ask!

[byfulcrums]

YEAH! THIS!

The other extreme of "he did nothing wrong" would be the people that demonize him and everything he does

See, the main difference between Makoto and Kusuke is that Makoto is a character that was designed specifically to be the creepy older brother. That's it; his only role is being Kokomi's greatest threat to her general wellbeing, and Kusuo's most disliked annoyance. There is not another purpose for his character

Kusuke, meanwhile, is an important character with an actual backstory and a real personality. This means he has depth, which makes him a lot more interesting (and likeable) than Makoto

Kusuke isn't meant to be the perverted big brother. He is meant to be an actual threat: Kusuo's enemy, and unfortunately, one of the people he ends up seeing on pretty much a daily basis

Now, even though he plays a big role in the story, you can't deny his creepiness. He is weird, and while it's never explicitly said that he's attracted to Kusuo, it is still implied

For example: in the "I'm so close" panel, he is actually referring to him being so close to beating Kusuo, but his expression makes it so it's read otherwise (which is how it's meant to be read). Besides, Kusuke is canonically a masochist. He likes being beat. And the only person who can beat him is his brother, Kusuo. Do you see where I'm getting at?

(If the incest makes you uncomfortable (it makes me uncomfy, especially since I really like the dynamic they have without it. And also I'm an older sister and it's just. Ew), you could try to switch up your interpretation of the two creepy panels

I've seen people saying that the "I'm so close" panel is just him being excited to be about to beat him, but honestly that just sounds like you're a Kusuke apologist lol (do whatever u want though, if that works for you then go for it, I can't force you not to anyway)

The "HC"(? (it's for a fic) I came up with (which I shared with my beloved @farshootergotme [sorry for the tag], who said it's super fucked up [thanks]) would be for Kusuke, after having been beat by Kusuo so many times, to find a way to get back at him when they were young

The way to do this was to think as many things that would make Kusuo uncomfortable as possible. What better way to get back at a mind reader than to weaponize your thoughts to use against them, right?

I still added some creepiness and weirdness, though. Not in a "he's actually in love with Kusuo" way, but more like in a "he realized he can fuck up Kusuo's life without even moving when he was very young, so he started to think dirty stuff on purpose — all kinds of things: from gore to sex, going as far as to imagine /weird scenes/ with his own brother"

Which, uh. I think might be worse. But hey I like some psychological torment!!! I like it bc it can still be canon complaint. I didn't want my fic to be an AU so I settled w that lol)

ANYWAY. Back on track

As I've previously stated: Kusuke is an actually important character that gets the story moving. Unlike Makoto, who only takes on the role of an antagonist, he is also shown helping out Kusuo. With his powers, with the volcano, ETC. Is it done out of a desire to be good? I doubt it. But it still means that he gets the plot to work. The story wouldn't work without him

He's also a character you can empathize with. His backstory is sad, and it is fucked up. He was neglected, in a way; always second to his little brother, always just a little less. His parents paid more attention to Kusuo than they ever did to him. He was third place, always. It makes sense for him to be so obsessed with finally beating Kusuo (and it works for his kid head to be desperate enough to think those horrible things to get back at him)

I also just, think his relatioship with Kusuo is super interesting in general. Kusuke was only a kid when Kusuo was born, but Kusuo was even younger. Why didn't anyone remind him? Why did they let it get this bad?

I could keep talking about how terrible yet interesting he is but I'm half asleep rn and can't form anymore thoughts lmao

"kusuke is different from makoto" yes, because "because he did nothing wrong!!" what 😭

[citydreamgrls]

a simple favour - part one

fred weasley x fem!reader 

summary: it was all in her best interests, fred never meant to catch feelings for her. it had started as a simple favour.

words: 3,371

warnings: swearing , tw: stalking / stalker , smut in later parts (18+)

find part two here

It had started off out of the blue one morning, a letter waiting for me in the great hall when I came down for breakfast. I had been fixing my hair when multiple heads turned towards me, I frowned as I sat down.

“What?”

Hermione held a letter in her hand, passing it over to me with a weirded out look on her face. I shrugged, recognising my name on the front but not the hand it was written in.

I laughed to myself as my eyes scanned over each carefully thought out word, describing my appearance and how ‘entrancing’ I was. Whoever had intended this letter for me was confessing their feelings in an oddly poetic and creepy way, my only conclusion being that it had to be one of the others playing a trick on me.

“Very funny guys, which one of you wrote this? I can’t recognise the writing.” I threw the parchment down carelessly, letting expectant eyes read over it as Ron grabbed it for himself.

“Doesn’t it say?” Hermione asked me, trying to read it over Harry’s head. “It was already here when we came down.”

“Yeah… this isn’t any of us.” Ron scoffed.

“I think you have a secret admirer y/n.” Harry added, handing it back to me.

I squinted, drinking some of my coffee and eyeing up their faces, expecting one of them to snap and laugh. But all I got was stone cold confusion from each of them. If only the letters had stopped there, then I may not have minded. Little did I know, it would only get worse.

-

The letters came every single day, sometimes multiple times. What once was harmless words of my beauty and desire turned sinister, now whoever was writing also seemed to know my whereabouts every day. He would depict times when I thought I had been alone, or claim he’d watched me go for my morning shower. My every move was documented, all with a perfect description of what I had been wearing even days after it had happened. The most disgusting part was the anonymity, the knowledge that this person was getting away with being a massive pervert and torturing me with it day in and day out. Whoever was obsessed with me was keeping it a secret and successfully stalking me from the sidelines.

The day that I found flowers on my bed I screamed like I’d been stabbed, making Ron and Harry quickly race up to the dorm thinking that I’d been attacked. Both of them had cringed at ‘gift’ with the realisation that he’d been in my room, sat on my bed and possibly done worse.

“Make sure nothing’s been taken.” Ron had said grimly, making me shudder at the fear that they could have something of mine.

“Jesus what a creep.” I’d whispered, stomping over to the bed and throwing the flowers out the window with a furious shout.

Since that day Hermione tried putting a curse on the bedroom door, meaning that only those who knew the counter-curse could enter, and those who didn’t would be blown all the way back down to the common room. Poor Ron had ended up being the test subject, which he wasn’t happy about in the slightest, but we had to make sure it worked somehow.

However, even that didn’t work. The letters kept arriving as usual, and the gifts would still appear neatly in my room every day. Not that it stopped me from discarding them in the most public way possible. My anger was growing by the second and throwing them away didn’t feel finite enough, so one night after watching the boy’s quidditch practice when Hermione and I found a teddy bear on my pillow I finally lost my cool.

I could hear voices in the common room, but that didn’t stop me. With the bear in one hand I stormed down, pushed past the small crowd of people laughing and chatting, and threw it into the fire with a grunt. They all fell into silence, Hermione catching up just in time to see its fur crackle away.

I sighed in relief, it felt good to watch the flames engulf around it. Whispers started up from behind me as my friend came over, her hand holding mine gently as we both just stood there. The bear's eyes began to melt, the plastic dripping down its face.

“Come on,” She murmured, taking me back upstairs where I screamed about how horrifying it all was and whether this ‘sick fuck’ thought he was being genuinely romantic.

-

“Who do you think it could be?” Hermione asked me the next night, as I ripped up yet another letter. The sight of my own owl was beginning to instil fear within me.

“At first I thought it could’ve been the twins, but even they’re finding this too much.”

Fred and George knew pretty much everything about everyone at Hogwarts, but when Ron had shown them the extent of this person’s doing, they too drew up a blank, mentioning how weird all of it was.

“They’re not like that,”

“This isn’t a harmless prank anymore is it?” I asked the girl, who wanted desperately to help me solve this twisted mystery.

“I don’t think it ever was,” She hummed to herself, sighing in defeat at the knowledge that the letter I was destroying was in no means the last of its kind.

-

It quickly became common knowledge that I had a stalker after my meltdown in the common room. Professor Mcconagall even offered to help, but there wasn’t much she could do without knowing who it was. Honestly I was weirdly glad she couldn’t, all this frustration had made me determined to deal with the fucker myself.

Hermione didn’t let me go anywhere by myself anymore, with the fear that the creep could pounce while I was without one of them. Most of the time it was fine, I had classes with at least one of them at all times and we had meals together as it was. But it meant that whenever I needed to study, one of them would have to go with me to the library. Hermione also made the rule that she’d sit outside my cubicle every time I showered, especially since the stalker had mentioned it before, keeping watch in case he tried to show up while I was vulnerable.

Despite it making my life a little more complicated, I was glad the others were so willing to look after me. If it wasn’t for them being with me 24/7 who knows what could have happened?

-

It was Harry’s turn to be on y/n watch, as he and Ron had called it, when Fred and George came running into the common room breathless. We had been looking over the most recent letter and discussing more theories on who it could possibly be when they’d burst in. We let them get their breath back, Fred hunching over as George did his best to get his words out.

“We know who it is y/n..” He’d just about managed. I jumped up, letting him sit down.

“Wh-at? Really? Who- how?” I stuttered.

Fred stood up straight, having finally gotten his heartbeat back down.

“Katie bell said she’d seen Cormac Mclaggen writing some letters this morning, then Lavender said something about him buying a teddy in Hogsmeade last week.”

“But they both saw him coming down your dorm tower last night.” George finished, cutting his brother off from the kicker of the story.

“Oi I was getting to that.” Fred grumbled, but I had zoned them as soon as I’d heard Cormac’s name mentioned.

My fists clenched up with absolute aggression, I could kill him. Now I had a disgusting, smug face to put to all the fear and loathing he’d caused and all I wanted to do was break said face.

“That fucker!” I shouted out into thin air, heading for the door. But Fred was the one to catch me before I reached it, dragging me back again without a second thought.

“Y/n it could be someone else,” Harry tried to reason, but it had to be him. It only made sense. The twins didn’t seem too convinced but argued another point against me going to find him myself.

“Besides Mclaggen is a big guy, if you go alone there’s no saying what he’d do to you.” George nodded in agreement with his brother and, as much as I hated to admit it, Fred was right. Cormac had been keeper on their quidditch team for a while now, and didn’t hide how much he liked to work out when flirting with girls. So why was he choosing me to be so creepy and mysterious to, not that I would’ve appreciated him doing it face to face either.

We decided to have a secret meeting later that night with everyone after telling Hermione and Ron what we’d learnt. Ron was mad, wanting to confront him immediately similarly to how I had reacted, but like the others Mione agreed that we should plan something.

“Guys like that are too proud, he won’t listen to y/n if she rejects him in person,” She had explained, cross legged at the end of my bed. I was propped up against my headboard, my knees tucked up to my body with multiple means of murder running through my mind.

“Not to mention you’d be giving him the satisfaction he’s always wanted,” Fred added, sitting on the windowsill beside me. One of his feet was hanging off the edge near me, swinging ever so slightly. Some weird part of me wanted to reach out, just for something to hold onto.

In the end it was decided that Ron, Harry and the twins would go and talk to him in the morning while they were at quidditch practice. This meant that I could go down to breakfast without the worry that he would be there, watching me from down the table. I tried to hide my fear of him, but with so many of them looking after me that night it was inevitable that at least one of them saw the tears in my eyes, if not all of them.

-

Hermione, Ron and Harry needed to go to the library to do homework after we discussed Cormac, leaving me with the twins as bodyguards which could have been worse. They did their best to take my mind off of the boy who had been writing to me about his deepest fantasies, but I wasn’t in the mood for it.

George played around with the perfume bottles lined up on the dresser, using his wand to make them dance. He had always been good at keeping himself amused. Fred had remained on the windowsill the whole time, his foot still going back and forth even when I laid on my side and found it right in my face.

He laughed lightly as I poked it away wordlessly, only to push it back into my face again. Admittedly, our little game of him swinging his foot to me so I could gently hit it away kept my mind busy for a while. Obviously it had sent me to sleep too, as I woke up when Hermione came back to let the twins go. Half asleep I groaned a thank you to them, Fred rustling my hair as he passed by and George slapping my leg in recognition.

-

Breakfast the next morning felt tense, Lavender had told people she thought it was Mclaggen which meant everyone kept coming up to ask if it was true. Some of them even tried to convince me how nice he really was, and that I was lucky to be wanted by him. Hermione of course sent them all on their way, keeping a hold of my hand as I struggled to finish even one slice of toast. All the while, my eyes remained glued to the great hall doors, hoping I wouldn’t see him turn up early from practice. The thought of seeing him at all had kept me away from the common room, a sickly feeling bubbling in my stomach knowing that the boy’s would probably be confronting him right about now.

I felt like throwing up on the spot, my friend’s hand getting crushed in my own as I saw him saunter in, his eyes immediately catching mine and giving me a smug smile. All I wanted to do was go over to where he sat down without a care and break his nose off with one punch. That would stop him from smirking so much like a pervert.

“What happened?” Hermione asked the boys when they finally arrived.

“”He’s a huge git you know.” Ron grumbled, glaring the boy down but the whole time it was me he was watching. I stopped looking after a while, my eyes glossing over as I listened to the twins explain how he’d reacted.

“I don’t think he even cares that we know,” Fred said.

“He’s proud of it really.” George added, making that sickly feeling somehow intensify.

“Even with these two around he wasn’t bothered,” Harry pointed to the older Weasley brothers with a huff.

“Yeah, and we were threatening him quite a lot.” George laughed, no one else really responding to his attempt at a cheery comment.

“We better go,”Hermione said, checking the time and taking my hand “Come on, if we don’t go now he might wait all day.” She whispered to me and I nodded, standing up with her. “Just ignore him.” The girl reminded me as we got nearer to his end of the table, his eyes following my step.

I broke from Mione’s grip, leaning across the table to him with a glare on my face. The fear had turned into anger all over again now that he was in front of me.

“You’re vile Mclaggen.”

“What’s wrong y/n?” He asked, that smirk never faltering. “Didn’t you like my love letters?”

People around him were confused, now learning that he’d been the one to stalk me these past couple of weeks. While some of them were his friends, none of them jumped to his defense.

“You need to get a fucking life, and leave me alone you freak.” I spat, standing up straight again to see a shocked Hermione waiting for me. I just smiled and took her hand again, leading her out of the hall as if nothing had happened.

“Christ y/n..” she scoffed “Well done.” I leant against the windowsill in the hallway, laughing hysterically into my hands.

“God that felt good.” I breathed a sigh of relief, not sure whether it worked or not but glad that I at least got to embarrass him for just one moment.

-

It was my mistake to let my guard down and expect nothing more from Mclaggen that day. Because what happened that very night still is the very reason people check that every door and window is locked before they go to bed.

The commotion had woken me up first, shouts and panicked scuffling coming from two different people. Then the lights were turned on, dragging me out of my sleep in a single second just to see Hermione standing in the middle of the room with her wand outstretched. At the other end, Cormac Mclaggen was backing away slowly with his hands in the air, finally a frightened look on his face. He looked over at me, now awake and frozen with fear, giving Mione a chance to shout out for help.

“RON! FRED!” she screamed, knowing just one of them had to have heard from their beds. With this Cormac ran off, Hermione shooting stunning spells after him but he dodged every one of them as he descended the tower.

“Oh my god,” I finally gasped, swallowing down hard. I broke out into a burst of tears just before the boys turned up at the door George and Harry with them, all of them with wands out for whatever was going to be inside. Hermione wrapped her arms around me, looking up at the boys but still reassuring me that it was all okay now.

“He was in here,” She said slowly, making Ron and Harry race down to the common room to see if they could catch him.

Fred and George came to my side, each taking one of my hands and holding it tight. They sat with me all through the night, letting Hermione sleep for a while. Neither of them dared drift off themselves, certain that this wouldn’t be the creep’s last attempt to get close to me.

“You can sleep if you want,” Fred whispered to me, my head leaning on his shoulder. I shook it slightly.

“I can’t.”

-

{third pov}

When y/n whispered to him that she couldn’t sleep, despite all the people there to keep watch for that dick Mclaggen, Fred decided he wanted to see him dead. There had to be more he could do, something that would make him leave her alone for good. Threats hadn’t worked on him, neither had the girl he wanted so badly confronting him. So the boy felt at a loss, yet fuelled to stop the onslaught of fear that y/n felt.

So he waited until his brother was in the shower to sneak off to the courtyard, hoping to catch the pervert on his way to his daily run by the lake.

“Oi, Mclaggen!” He called across the empty bridge, seeing him appear from the castle.

“You alright Weasley?”

“It’s Fred. And I know what you did last night?” He stood tall over the boy, but nothing seemed to waver his confidence.

“And what would that be?”

“You were there, in her room. You sick fucker.” The boy huffed, feeling himself growing more and more frustrated at Cormac’s arrogance.

“You missed quite a party,” he scoffed, raising his eyebrows. Fred reached forward, grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to his chin.

“You listen to me, Okay? Leave y/n alone.” The boy swore that the pervert’s smile grew.

“And what’s it to you Weasley.” He all but hissed.

“She’s my girlfriend.”

The words had come out quicker than he’d really had time to think over their repercussions, but seeing the look on Mclaggen’s face drop in shock made up for whatever he was going to have to do from then on.

“She.. l-likes you?” Fred dropped him again, making him stumble slightly as he thought it over.

“Afraid so buddy.”

“How long has she been yours?” He hated the way it was phrased as if y/n was a possession for one of them to own.

“Two weeks.” Fred lied yet again, the anger he’d felt pushing him continue this story. At least it seemed to bother the other boy enough.

Cormac had sent one last glare at the ginger, before going off in a huff. Finally something had worked, maybe not for good, but it at least had gotten a reaction out of him. As Fred headed back inside the castle he realised that the only way the creep’s obsessive ways could be stopped, was if y/n’s attention was somewhere else.

Now he just had to find a way to explain that to her, without her getting too mad.

-

My room was now my safe place, somewhere he couldn’t turn up without consequence. Harry had brought me some breakfast from the great hall, and Ron was doing his best to keep what little spirits we had amongst us high. Hermione and George had given up trying to convince me to tell Mcgonagall, as I assured them nothing could be done unless he was caught inside the dorm.

“It’s just our word against his,” I huffed. We were all sitting around wondering where Fred had disappeared to when he appeared at the door, an awkward smile on his face when we all looked over at him.

“So…” He started, his voice wary as if we all might snap at him for what he was abou to say. “I might have done something bad.”

[doloresdraws]

‘Sometimes I hate every single stupid word you say Sometimes I wanna slap you in your whole face There's no one quite like you, you push all my buttons down I know life would suck without you

At the same time, I wanna hug you I wanna wrap my hands around your neck You're an asshole but I love you And you make me so mad, I ask myself Why I'm still here, or where could I go You're the only love I've ever known But I hate you, I really hate you So much I think it must be True love’

I can't believe it, but I finished one of my old WIPs from 2019. I am not 100% satisfied with how it turned out, but considering it was a very old piece, I did what I could to try and fix it to the point I was somehow happy.

The hornyiest Kindred in San Francisco. Well, Maddy is and Chester is maybe a dumb asshole, but even he is not that daft to say no when someone proposition him in that way :D

Chester is a prone to violence jerk who likes to get wasted even as a Kindred, he is not the brightest tool in the shed and one might say he has no redeeming qualities. According to Maddy, though, he apparently fucks well. XD

Madeline is on the other hand a well-educated, smart woman who has no problems adapting quickly to various social situations and at the same time not being afraid to stand up for herself. Before her Embrace she worked at her father's corporation and was tired of everyone treating her as a pretty face and thinking she only got the job because the CEO was her dad when she worked her ass off to be good at her job. She was also desperately trying to find something exciting in her life as working in a office 9-5 job among people who were only talking about their families or work was not her idea of a fulfilling life. She missed her younger years when she used to give her parents a lot of troubles when she sneaked up late in the night to party hard, snort a bit a coke and have fun with dudes older than her... I guess that is why Chester does it for her, he might be a lot uglier than what she was used to, but he's not treating her like she was made of China porcelain, also she is honestly laughing at his stupid, often offensive jokes...

Their relationship first started as just a way for her to forget for a moment about the shit she got herself into by doing something she enjoyed. But after a while she started to feel like she actually cares for him and unlike most of my other characters she expressed it to him, and Chester being a coward that he is bolted out on her immediately with his pants barely on as they were in the middle of the thing :D :D

It took him a few days to face her again and she was ready for him mocking her about her feelings, because she thought he didn't feel the same... To her surprise, after getting unreasonably angry at her not being able to shut up and let him speak, he apologized for leaving like that and actually admitted having feelings for her too, mentioning that he was never a good man and to consider if that was what she really wanted.

She made it clear to him that she wasn't a good girl either and pulled him in for a kiss ''I love you dumb, ugly asshole and I just thought you should know'' They made up and were officially together since that night making the only official nossie couple in the SF sewers XD

Some of the Nossies rolled eyes at them being all over each other all the time XD Mirabelle couldn't understand why such a smart girl would waste her time with that drunk idiot. But honestly Mirabelle didn’t think much of any man beside Lazarus (her Sire/the Primogen).

Theodor (Chester’s & Maddy’S Sire) was making creepy, inappropriate jokes and Maddy sincerely hoped he was not secretly watching them make out Spoiler: he sometimes was.

It was fun while it lasted. But after a few months Chester realized that she was out of his league, his man-pride/ego could not handle the fact that she was clearly better educated, smarter and more capable than him in many things.. It didn't matter to her at all, but for him it was too much to handle.

The other reason that led him to break up with her was that she tried to push him into trying to help his daughter Jamie, who was his/his Sire's ghoul living in the sewers with the Nosferatu for the majority of her life. He hated that this discussion always made him feel guilty, he was aware of how shitty father he was and he didn’t need her to remind him that.

He didn't want Maddy to find out that he was a coward who was afraid of Theodor and what he would do to him, Maddy or Jamie if Chester tried to free Jamie. She was a ghoul for a very long time, so even if he did help her and did not give her Vitae, her age would soon catch up with her... She wouldn’t know how to function in the world outside. There was nothing he could do for her, or at least he made a lot of excuses for himself to not even try.

So yeah, Chester chose to dump Maddy for both, his selfish reasons and also to keep her away from putting herself in danger while trying to make a better person out of him. 

Their break up was quite messy, he said some nasty things to her to make his point clear and she said some stuff that she didn't really mean, because she couldn't believe he was really dumping her. She didn't know his real reasons,only the shitty ones he made up which hurt her deeply. They called each other names a lot during their relationship, but it was more in a teasing, joking kind of way, she couldn’t believe he would seriously thinking about her like that.

Maddy was not a person who would cry after a break up, she was more angry at him than sad. But after their break up Maddy often found herself thinking about just asking him for sex, because it's not that she could just quickly find someone who would be willing to do her and not that there was many options anyway XD (Theodor doesn't counts, he is just BIG NO) but then she always remembered that she had pride and so she never followed up with her desire to.

Now they barely talk. They basically only talk to each other when it is about something concerning a 'work task' or something general around the presence of others of their clan. Despite pretending things between them are over, they feel something for each other, which sometimes makes it hard for them to be around each other, which leads both of them often making snappy remarks at each other to cover the fact seeing each other makes them uncomfortable. They are both quite good at acting indifferent, so they both think the other one doesn’t think about the other anymore XD

Maddy, Chester © me/doloresdraws lyrics © True Love by Pink & Lily Allen

[thelemoncoffee]

yaknow- i said i was gonna try my hand at making my own takes on at least Kagehara and Bonkichi- guess i should actually do that.

here's my take- instead of the abusive or hella creepy stuff where one or both are completly off their rocker cause i never understood that- what if they're just two nerds who suck at socializing who found one another and decided the other was really cool, and they like them alot, and maybe they should hang out or something

Bon carries over my artistic talent hc from Ouma, and loves to draw all sorts fanart, from fluff to angst to shitposts. He likes to draw Kage fanart of all the detective character as those are all his favorites, and sometimes draws a ship or two for him. He has a wall he covered in traditional art, and has almost run out of space on his tablet from the sheer amount of digitals drawings and refrence images he has saved.

It's his comfort/venting media so he spends alot if time working on new art when his paranoia issues are higher than they should be (which is more often than he'd ever admit) Bon is reserved, but still a bastard and loves to do things that tic people off, he's a bully in that regard- using a verbal bite to keep people out of his buisness. People love his art, but most don't ever confront him cause they'd rather not get bullied, the only person to have actually surpassed his bullying is Kage, and even then to an outsider the way Bon talks to Kage sounds like bullying- even if it's lighthearted

Kage is a semi school-popular danganronpa geek who loves to write, he does mainly theories- but on ocassion he'll bust out a great fanfic / oneshot. He's mainly popular because of his looks but most find his DR hyperfixation a turnoff so not that many people actually try to go after him, as results he gets some very mixed interactions.

Kage is the kind of guy to sit there and rattle your ears off about little very unnoticable things in danganronpa that are somehow importiant to the overaching plot of DR. the only known people to have enough patience for his rants are his tumblr followers, and Bon- who also follows him on tumblr. He honestly is just a harmless geek and most people can't handle how much energy he puts into his hyperfixation, so he just kinda vibes with the few people who don't mind. Outside of his hyperfixation he's mostly a talkative but shy geek with some serious adhd that he has meds for but forgot to take for the past year. he also has a soft spot for anything fluffy

it's also worth to note here i 100% think these two are dating and people just don't realize it cause Bon's publicly used love language is insults, and Kage is just too much to really imagine anyone actually finding a personality to love underneith the DR hyperfixation, but they make it work and very well. They probably were mid fangan creation when the oprotunity to join DR popped up. Kage was so desperate to be part of it he over exagerated himself in the audition to try and secure a place, and Bon joined to fufill a personal desire to fuck shit up- he'd actually gone behind Kage's back to join cause he didn't want him freaking out over his safty

[illuminaughti-online]

@sadeyedlady-writes and @forestscribe4 both tagged me, I assume because my URL is too long and they just want a free playlist of extraordinary length. Once again I am in a hell of my own design, a large hamster tube in the shape of a M��bius strip. I'm cheating and just spelling out Naughti because that's what people call me anyway. I'm including links. I'd apologize for the length of this but that's what happens when you tag a motormouth who used to have a radio program.

N - "No One Like You" by the Crookes, off their final album. Sad and more than a little desperate but also melodically so rewarding instead of being pure misery to listen to like so many songs about past relationships are. I was lucky enough to see the Crookes live a few times before they broke up and they always fucking Brought It. It was interesting that in their final album they were migrating a bit further away from Northern Soul and started including drum and piano parts that sounded more Cure-like in origin. I wish we could have seen more from the Crookes to see where this direction took them, but oh well, things don't last.

A - "Aïcha" by Cheb Khaled. One of my favorite songs of all time. I find Cheb Khaled's voice very soothing in general but the melody on this one never gets old. I first heard this song on the in-flight playlist on an airplane back from an incredibly bad foreign exchange trip in high school, and immediately latched onto it like one of those videos of a rescue baby animal being bottle-fed whilst burritoed in a blanket. I basically played this on repeat for several hours until we landed.

U - "Under Your Spell" by Timber Timbre. This band is fantastic for stripped-down yet highly evocative music that often straddles the line between romantic and insanely creepy. They have a unique atmosphere that feels somehow genetically related to Tom Waits.

G - "Goin' Out West" by Tom Waits because once I mentioned him I realized he should be in here. This is the live version from 2008, which definitely rocks harder than the album version. It's a deranged anthem but sometimes I sing parts of it to myself to psych myself up. "Gonna do what I want, and I'm gonna get paid! I don't need no makeup, I got REAL scars . . . I look good without a shirt."

H - "Hurricane (Johnnie's Theme)" by Lord Huron. Honestly no band sounds quite like Lord Huron.

T - "This Will Be Our Year" by the Zombies. This song always makes me feel better.

I - "I'm a Fool to Want You" by Billie Holiday. I love Lady Day but this song will make you feel sad again lol. Frank Sinatra used to consult her for advice on how to deliver his lyrics more emotionally, and TBH I think it didn't really work because her version of this song is approximately 4,000% more heartbreaking than his.

Because I saved so many letters by skipping most of my URL, I claim a bonus letter. Q is for "Queen of the Surface Streets" by Devotchka, another wholly unique band. This song is about those weird brief intense crushes you get from seeing someone gorgeous on public transit and visualizing an entire life together before simply never seeing them again.

I have no idea who's already been tagged. I'd like to tag Pope Francis just to see what's in his rotation lately but I'm not 100% sure he's still on Tumblr. We lost a lot of good ones with the porn ban.

Tagged by @flashnthunder to :

“Spell your url with song titles and then tag as many people as there are letters.”

M - Mars by Pinkshift

O - Of All The Gin Joints In The World by Fall Out Boy

N - No One Knows by Queens of the Stone Age

T - Throw Me In The Pit by Bridget.

I - I'm Not a Seeker I'm a Founder by The Transpersonals

E - EAT YOUR FRIENDS by Jhariah and Pinkshift

D - Don't You Know Who I Think I Am by Fall Out Boy

I shall tag @dilfsuzanneyk @moonlight19256 @executethyself35 @literary-lesbian @homuncvlus @freebagels @styx-the-stick

[marchioness-caprina]

You Like Me Not?

Pairings : Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Reader

Writing Style : 3rd Person

Warnings : Mild Cussing

Word Count 3290

3rd Person's POV

" Hawks. I'll ask you Nicely ok? Can you Please Please keep your distance from That New hero in your agency? That Foxy bimbo bitch what's her name again? " Y/n ranted narrowing her eyes towards Keigo who was casually lounging down on the couch with an amused look on his face.

" Now now Little Dove, I can't avoid her if you don't even know her name. But if I must say it then... Hmm" Keigo's eyes gleamed mischievously at the female in front of him as he uttered a word that made y/n go red with anger .

" Enchantress? "

" Keigo. " Y/n gave him a stern look and he just laughed at her face like it was a joke.

" Listen Kid. Looks like you gotta have another reality check. I can't avoid her because.... " Keigo paused his eyes never leaving y/n's angered face.

" Because? " Y/n growled impatiently as she crossed her arms.

" 1. We're Not even dating but here you are acting like you're MY girlfriend when you're clearly you're.... Not. " Keigo chuckled and y/n who knew that it was a fact flinched; feeling as if a million bricks were dropped on top of her head. The way he said it was like a harsh blow to the gut but she kept her usual strong expression.

" 2. We're working under the same agency so getting paired up with her isn't avoidable... Plus as her hero name states... She is enchanting " Keigo's smirk only grew as y/n's face became flushed with anger. Her eyes burning up dangerously as she gave a venomous glare at Keigo.

" And last but not the least... 3. I'm not interested in a first year kid. So chances of the two of us of ever dating is a Big fat No. Plus I think Enchantress is a lot more prettier than the average and if you ask me... I'd go after adults like her than Kids like you so stop acting like we're---" Although Keigo's Tone was indeed playful and the smirk on his face made it even more clearer. His words stung like hell.

Y/n who was visiting their agency and went straight up to his office to complain had taken in the harsh damages and blows. Yes she may be a first year brat in U.A but was it really terrible to love someone older than her by a few years?.

Apparently she was a little naive in terms of love so when Keigo saved her when she was still in middle school she fell in love. Who wouldn't? He's got undeniable charms, a pretty face , a well sculptured figure but most of all. He made her feel safe and protected, setting she never felt before so when she finally began studying in U.A she decided to pursue Hawks so it was very common for her to come by the agency. Almost everyone knows who she is by now.

So this was the usual; but it was the first time she walked out on Keigo who was still Talking.

Because it was honestly too much. After she confessed to him and started pursuing him, Keigo decided to be a Jerk and gave her a very hard time. When she'd come over to give him lunch he'd purposely fly away and call her to deliver it to a specific place but when she gets there he calls her again to either say that she was taking too long and left or he had 'accidentally' gave the wrong address and he needs her to send it on this one instead.

And he keeps doing that everytime. He even went as far as to go to another town to have her chasing him like a madman. Yet her determination never faltered. Something Hawks had came to acknowledge her for.

He sends her on wild goose chases and one time he gave her 3 wrong addresses even though he was only sitting in his office the whole time.

And if people think his wings are sharp then his words are sharper. He may be sweet to the media or the other people outside but when talking to her, his words are venomous, sarcastic, and over all it's just rude and pretty painful to hear.

How y/n had managed to stand strong until now was a mystery and everyone in the agency had grew to respect her for this but also carrying a little hatred for Hawks who purposely plays with her.

Keigo who was left in his office was speechless, he blinked a few times and even pinched himself to see if he was dreaming and when he found out that he wasn't he gave out a sigh.

It was quiet, far too quiet. His mind drifted off to y/n who had stormed out of his office awhile ago. Yes he was very much aware of the cruel treatment he was giving her but that's only because he wanted to see how persistent this girl was with her love for him, he thought she'd give up within the second time but when she never did he grew even more intrested and began testing her a lot more than intended and when he found out that her affection for him was too strong.

He didn't know what to do and began running away like a coward. It was wrong in so many levels. She was younger than him not to mention she's still studying in U.A, His job isn't necessarily designed to have a normal life and finding love and making a family IS normal, and he might die one day and he didn't want her to carry the burden of losing him so it's better to make her hate him.

But boy was he wrong when she kept coming back stronger than before. She was already forcing her way in his heart that he became distressed with his emotions.

And poof, he suddenly realized that he loved her back.

Something about her allured him to no ends and curse his animalistic instincts when it comes to mates because as much as he hates to admit it, he had already acknowledged her as a Mate. HIS mate. He can't help but be greedy and possessive of her, and the the mighty knows how many nights he had to lock himself in, restrain himself while his self control was being brutally tested on ; because with one wrong move he may have already infiltrated U.A causing a security distress, Crashed inside her dorm room , fucking bred her like a feral animal and claimed her like the pretty little mate she was.

Everytime he sees her, his control weakens and he had to hit himself and punch his face multiple times literally to remind himself that she was still a goddamn minor and he can't have his way with her yet.

She's not making it any easier for him so he developed a bad habit of taking it out on her because if his words can't do the talking then he might as well jump her bones and have her screaming his name.

Keigo groaned as he planted his palm on his forehead.

He was beginning to feel anxious. Like something bad was about to happen; something he didn't like at all.

He turned on the T.V and started reading through a few papers works but he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He jumped out the window and began feverishly looking for the h/c haired girl.

" Fuck me and my Fucking Hormones... God.... Kid what have you done to me? " He mumbled but it came out as a growl instead. He was agitated, frantic and nervous, he couldn't get her out of his head even if he'd hit his head on a fucking billboard.

His eyes darting to every direction he knew she would take to get here. As creepy as it may sound but he knows every single route she'd take to get to his agency including the transportation she'd take to get there every time.

After some time he finally spotted her after dashing and flying at jet speed throughout the city like a mentally deranged patient he had finally spotted her .

A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he tried to regain his cool.

" Hey Kid" He yelled out once he was near enough and he got no answer.

Y/n had purposely ignored him. His words still rang inside her head and everytime she remembered. It made her heart clench in pain.

And when she heard her name being called out by the said Male . She wanted to turn around. hell she even wanted to run to him like a love sick little puppy but she can't let him see that she was crying.

So she ignored him and began walking at a faster pace.

" Oohh~ playing hard to get now aren't we? You know you gotta try harder. A little silent treatment isn't going to have me falling for you ya know" keigo casually stated with a hint of playfulness but he knew any better; he was desperate to have her attention back to him.

God, what did he do? Did she finally wake up and decided that she was sick of his bullshit treatment? Shit now what?.

After minutes of no answer Keigo began to feel frustrated and without thinking he landed behind her and grabbed her by the shoulder. only to whirl her around to face him.

" Kid---"

Keigo froze after seeing here blood shot eyes and tear stained cheeks.

He did it this time and he felt like a full blown jerk for doing this... For hurting her.

Y/n avoided any form of eye contact and placed her eyes on anywhere but him, lips quivering in a mixture of anger and sadness. She looked like a mess.

But Keigo thought otherwise though, he felt so sick of himself. The face she was making, teary eyes, flushed cheeks, quivering lips. It had disgustingly turned him on even though the situation screamed otherwise. His thoughts began to drift into the dirtiest part of his mind wondering if this face would be the reward he'd get if he'd have her under him, sprawled all over his sheets, sweaty and needy for him while crying-- no begging for him to give her more while he rearranged her guts. Damn he really was Messed up in every possible way.

He wanted to slap himself for thinking that way but a part of him couldn't blame himself because ever since she started coming over he had been so pent up it was a miracle he hadn't fucked her on the spot. And he didn't even have the guts to fuck another woman because he already acknowledged her as a mate; HIS mate.

He swallowed hard before forcing himself to speak.

" What's this? Now you're giving me a Sad and Pity worthy face? If you're making me feel guilty then it's working. I didn't think you'd stoop this low th---"

" Takami leave me alone. I don't want to see you right now, if you came here to insult me even further then just Go. " Y/n cut him off, she was unable to bring herself from listening to another one of his remarkable insults again when the wound was still fresh.

Keigo paused as his once playful stare began to change into a more intimidating and stern look.

' Leave you Alone? After what you've done to me? Oh~ what a naughty baby bird... No Never.... I'll keep this in mind when I finally claim you, I'll punish you for ever thinking of leaving' those thoughts circulated through Keigo's head as he silently stood there. Staring at her.

Y/n who was unable to handle the pressure tried to yank herself away from his hold but he had a grisly grip on her shoulders and his gaze managed to intimidate her enough to stop moving.

" Listen.... Y/n---"

" Senior Hawks! " Keigo was cut off from speaking and to top it all up he was taken by surprise and his reflexes kicked in; pushing y/n away quite harshly.

Their gazes were flung to the left where Enchantress, the new Hero in their agency was running towards them with a devious smile.

Keigo groaned and y/n rolled her eyes after seeing the pink haired female make her way towards them.

" Hey " Keigo muttered but again; he was caught by surprise when Enchantress had wrapped her arms around his while smiling proudly at y/n.

" Who's This Senior? " She asked pointing at y/n but the look on her face made it obvious that she already knew who y/n was.

" She's y/n...a fan" Keigo's persona shifted in a heartbeat and was now wearing his natural and charming smile.

" Oh? She's a Fan? Well nice to meet you. I'm the new Hero Enchantress, Say... You have a pretty face " Enchantress smirked making y/n fight back a scowl.

" Thanks " As much as y/n wanted to drop all the pleasantries and Immediately move to the part where she's ripping of Enchantress's left boob.... She can't.

So she decided to keep it neutral and gave Enchantress a small nod and a smile.

" You have a pretty face... But... Senior if you were given a chance to pick, which one of us would you choose? I wonder" Enchantress cheered innocently but her question got Hawks cornered.

She was doing this on purpose; placing him in a situation where he'd most likely fuck up and judging by the looks the two females were giving him... He can't smooth talk his way outta this. Not this time.

" Of course.... I'd pick you-- " Keigo's eyes we're settled on y/n but he pulled his gaze away from her and towards enchantress. " Enchantress" Keigo finished and The look of triumph on The pink haired female's face was floor-bash worthy.

Y/n stood in place, for a moment there she had her hopes up. Keigo was cruel enough to pull that stunt on her; giving her false hope only to bring her down and rub it in her face.

" Or course you'd pick me, miss y/n is still a kid and she's... Take no Offense in this miss y/n but Senior Hawks is a bit... Hmmm... Out of your league?" Enchantress smirk grew wider and Hawks who was already lying through his teeth was still fighting his Pride for dominance.

With a sharp glare sent towards Enchantress who didn't seem to notice only scooted closer towards him.

" Oh, Really? Ok then "

Keigo blinked at how nonchalant and uncaring y/n's reply was. He was genuinely expecting her to explode like usual but this time it's different.

Y/n was fighting back the new batch of tears, heartbreak was a real pain in the ass. Couldn't he just put her down slowly? Why is he taking pleasure in hurting her this way? Now he's rubbing salt onto the wound.

In which area did she lack in? Her face? Body? Skill? Intelligence? Now that she thought about it, Enchantress tray lived up to her Hero name. She was perfect in every angle.... Perfect for Hawks. Enchantress had a nice body, a seductive face and y/n heard of the achievements done by the Female Hero.

She can't beat her even if she tried. She's mentally, physically and emotionally drained to even give a reaction. She'd just get hurt even more.

Maybe this is a sign.

For her to finally give up, move on, shift her focus and concentration to something more beneficial.

This was hopeless and all she ever got was pain. She's not a masochist who yearns for the continuous and brutal impact of emotional pain. Heck even masochists needs a little love too.

She's tired and y/n knows better than to put herself down with her own insecurities. So she needed to make a move fast because she'll only get hurt again.

It's wise to forget him.

With a deep breath she pulled out a strong front with a genuine smile on her face as she gazed at Keigo and Enchantress.

Keigo wore an anxious look while Enchantress held a surprised expression.

" Well, you two do look compatible and you're right he is out of my league.... That's why I'll look for someone else within my reach. He's not the only fish in the pond.... I'm sure I'm holding you guys back.. Carry on with your hero duties, I'll go back now Bye~" Y/n turned around and gave them a wave before skipping away from the two.

Her tone along with her smile looked far too cheerful that it scared Hawks.

Did she just say she'd look for Someone Else?, she had the guts to say that right in front of him?.

He balled his hand into a fist, and for the first time in his life he had never felt this scared to lose someone. He was breathing heavily while throwing a mental tantrum.

" You know.... I thought you'd finally stop that bad habit of yours Hawks.... I learned from the rumors and wanted to see for myself and probably give you a hand to confess to her but now that I've witnessed it, You really are a Fucktard" Enchantress shook her head as she crossed her arms gazing at Hawks with disappointment.

" Fuck off. This was your fault to Begin with. It's not as easy as you think"

" Really? You're blaming me for all the fuck ups you're responsible for? A girl's heart is fragile Hawks... I didn't live for a hundred years buried in the shelter of naivety. Her love was true and I think you just lost your chances.... If you wanna fix it. Fix it fast because once a girl has enough, she'll leave you like you're worth nothing. "

" I... I know I fucked up but your meddling wasn't necessary "

" Really? I was getting tired of watching you hurt her. I'm a woman too and I don't appreciate seeing other men hurt a woman who clearly loves them.... I did her a favor by giving her the ultimatum to let go... Looks like she took it in the end " Enchantress chuckled while Hawks stood there, his demeanor turning darker by the passing second.

" You're saying it's better that she leave me? " Keigo muttered Darkly , a dangerous look in his eyes began to resurface.

Enchantress kept a calm expression and nodded her head.

" You're Toxic Hawks. And it's better for her to leave you than seeing her get hurt over and over again... I've been in that stage before... And it hurts more than any injury I've suffered... "

" Since you're so knowledgeable about this then why not tell me how to fix it? Before I decide to go rogue and slit your throat" keigo threatened as he plucked out a feather which turned rudged and sharp; pointing it at Enchantress .

" Hmm... You seem to Love her judging by how strongly you reacted ... But you're worst than shit in showing it... But here's a tip . If you wanna fix it then fix yourself first. Learn how to treat a woman you like as if she's greater than a queen and remember that I'm not the one who hurt her...it was you." With those words being uttered Enchantress disappeared in a puff of smoke.

........ To be continued

[theadventurousdork]

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Chloe Price

If Chloe could go back and meet herself... would she?

Chloe takes a drag from her cigarette before flicking it away. She lays on the rusted roof of an old fishing boat, the breeze carrying away her puff of smoke. The sun is setting over the junkyard. Everything is still, yet her mind is buzzing. Can she really do it? Run away. Away from the torment. Away from the emptiness. Away from Arcadia Bay. Away from it all. And with Rachel freakin' Amber.

Chloe flicks her cigarette as her arm hangs over the side of the roof. Shards of broken glass are crunched under a shifting foot a few yards away, causing the rebel to sit up in caution. She looks around the junkyard, a feeling of unease sits in her gut. The shifting footsteps move behind a run down car.

"Rachel, I swear to God if you're fucking with me..."

Chloe hops off the roof of the boat and onto the splintered deck below, the setting sun shines in her eyes. She squints over the edge and looks down to see a figure looking up at her. She feels familiar.

"Jesus christ. That's what I looked like back then?" The woman says. Her hair radiating a faded green through the sunlight.

"Who the fuck are you?" Chloe demands as the woman climbs onto the boat.

"Look at me, you little nugget," the woman says as she hops onto the deck, the wood creaking beneath her, "I'm you."

Chloe takes a step back. She looks at her future self in confusion, "Alright, that cigarette I bummed from Justin was definitely laced with something."

"Holy shit. Justin." Older Chloe says in an amused tone. She looks over the trees at the setting sun, "I wonder how he's doing nowadays. Either he finally became a skate pro or he's now the creepy dude no one knows who's still riding the same rails at Blackwell."

Young Chloe is at a loss of words. She stares at her older self not being able to comprehend what she's seeing.

"You... I... we... look pretty rad," she finally says after an awkward silence, "I just... don't understand what the fuck is happening."

Older Chloe walks past the teen and hops onto the roof of the boat, her feet dangling over the edge. She looks down and pats the empty space next to her. Young Chloe looks around the empty junkyard looking for any sign of being pranked. After realizing there's no one else around them, she takes a deep breath and climbs to the top of the boat to join her future self.

"It's all very confusing so I won't waste time explaining how I'm here," Older Chloe says as she takes out a pack of cigarettes from her jacket pocket. She takes out a stick and puts it between her lips before extending the carton out to her younger self, "Trade you a cig for a light."

Young Chloe reaches into her ripped jean pocket and takes out a lighter. She takes a cigarette from the carton and lights both of their smokes. They both take a long drag unison.

"So... let's say I'm not tripping absolute balls right now," young Chloe says, "why are you here?"

"If YOU had the chance to visit younger you, would you?"

"I don't think I would." Young Chloe takes another drag, "It would hurt too much."

"Well... opinions change as you get older, I guess." Older Chloe looks at the junkyard around them, "Man, I miss this place. Brings back so many memories. What year is it anyway?"

Young Chloe hesitates, still not fully absorbing what's happening, "Uh, 2010."

"Fuck. That feels like ages ago."

"What year are you from?"

"Doesn't really matter." Older Chloe brushes off the question, "So what's going on in your life right now?"

"Well, my stupid mom betrayed me by letting the walking mustache move into the house." Young Chloe grumbles as she pushes the butt of her cigarette into the deteriorating metal.

Older Chloe smiles, "David and his damn mustache."

Young Chloe doesn't hear her comment, "And the ever so elusive Max Caulfield hasn't answered a single text or call in months. So she could be dead." She lifts up her legs from the edge of the roof and hugs her knees, "Not that it fucking matters anyway. I mean, I could be dead and she wouldn't even care."

Older Chloe softens her gaze as she looks to her broken, younger self.

"What else is going on?"

"Well, I finally got booted from Blackwell."

Older Chloe lets out a small laugh, "Jesus, took you long enough."

"Right? You should've seen how smug Principal Wells looked with that stick up his ass as he broke the news," Young Chloe furrows her brow, "I mean... I guess you have seen what he looked like then."

"Oh, man. Of course I remember what he looked like. So pleased with himself. He definitely celebrated our departure from Blackwell by shoving two more sticks up his ass."

Young Chloe couldn't help but laugh.

"And uh..." her laughing died down to a nervousness, "I also met Rachel Amber recently."

The burning cigarette hangs loosely between Older Chloe's fingers as she stares over the treeline. Her mind is obviously in a different place.

"Rachel Amber." she finally says after a moment, "How is she?"

The words leave her mouth with a heavy weight.

"She's... awesome." Young Chloe breathes out. Her shoulders loosen as Older Chloe's tense up, "I just... I don't know how to describe it. Ever since we went to that Firewalk concert a few days ago and we started hanging out... I don't know. She's just so fucking cool. She has this..."

"Light around her." Older Chloe says, finishing the younger's sentence, "A light that seems to never dim. No matter what kind of darkness hits."

"Yeah, exactly."

Young Chloe notices the shift in the elder's tone, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Older Chloe blinks away her tears, "Can you... can you tell me more about her?"

Her words feel slightly desperate. Like she's treading water, desperate to relive the feeling she's lost so long ago. The feeling of knowing that Rachel's okay.

"I mean, you've already lived through all of this. You must know more than I do. What do you want to know? Honestly, I should be the one asking YOU questions," Young Chloe sits up straight, eager to ask her future self a barrage of questions, "What's it even like in the future? Have the mole people taken over? Have we discovered life on other planets yet? Is weed legal in every state now? Do I ever make it out of this shithole?"

Older Chloe puts out her cigarette before looking at her wide eyed younger self, "How about you answer my question and I'll answer ONE of yours."

"But..."

"My time is limited here, you ding dong. You really wanna waste it by fighting?" Older Chloe leans back on her hands, "You know I'd win."

Young Chloe huffs at how smug she is, "Okay, fine." She takes a moment to collect her thoughts. "So you wanna hear about Rachel?"

"Yeah. What's she like right now? Where are you at when it comes to her?"

The younger lays down on the roof, her hands clasped behind her head, "She's absolutely amazing. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone else like her. There's this indescribable thing about her that makes me want to... be better." Young Chloe closes her eyes, images of Rachel flashing through her mind, "It's like ever since we started hanging out, everything's felt... not as heavy, you know? I mean, don't get me wrong. This place is still a top tier shitter, but she makes it... not as shitty."

Older Chloe doesn't say a word.

"And when I'm with her... I feel nervous. But not the 'Oh shit, I'm gonna throw up' nervous but more like the... 'Oh shit, I wanna stay in this moment forever' kind of nervous," Young Chloe feels a slight tinge of embarrassment as she opens her eyes to see the clouds moving in the sky above, "I must sound so stupid."

"You don't." Older Chloe wipes away a tear that escaped from her grasp. Younger Chloe doesn't notice.

The older's mouth hangs slightly open as she struggles to find the right words to say. After a moment, "Just... hang onto that. Hang onto that feeling. That feeling of wanting to be better. That feeling that there's a light that will never dim. It's important."

"Since when did I get so mushy?" Young Chloe sits up.

"Don't act like you haven't always been," says the Older.

"Okay, my turn."

"One question. That's all you get."

Young Chloe crosses her arms as she thinks carefully about her question. The sun has just touched the top of the treeline. A blanket of golden light lays gently across the junkyard. The familiar sound of glass crunching under a shifting foot gets lost in the sound of the trees rustling with the breeze. Young Chloe, lost in thought, doesn't seem to notice it this time.

"So," Older Chloe interrupts, "I don't got all day. It's now or never, young grasshopper."

After another moment of silence, the younger uncrosses her arms and takes a deep breath. She looks to the setting sun. Two sides of the same coin, sit side by side under its light.

"Will I ever find the happiness I lost?"

Older Chloe furrows her brow, slightly taken aback by the younger's question.

Young Chloe's heartbeat increases slightly, scared of the answer.

The older looks up at the sky before taking a deep breath, "Look, kid. You're going to lose a lot. You're going to lose so much that it feels almost impossible to make it through... but you will. You'll be okay."

Young Chloe, looks down at her feet dangling off the side of the roof. Slightly disappointed with the answer.

The sun has begun to disappear behind the treeline.

"But," Older Chloe starts up again, "about that happiness..."

She looks out to the junkyard. Hidden just out of the younger's sight, an older Max Caulfield sits behind a dilapidated car door. She's waiting patiently, as she looks up at Older Chloe. The two look at one another with a reassuring gaze. Max gently nods her head as she gives Older Chloe a kind smile.

"You'll find it again." Older Chloe finally says without breaking eye contact with Older Max, "Happiness will always be within reach even when you feel like it's gone forever."

A breeze blows through the junkyard just as the sun has finally disappeared behind the trees.

Young Chloe looks up and finds herself alone again.

[inkstaineddove]

Man as Mirror

Ships: PruAus if you wish; background PruHun and FraAus

Characters: Roderich, Gilbert; mentioned Erzsi + Francis

Summary: Arriving home early from Paris, Roderich encounters a shirtless Gilbert in his kitchen, leading them to have a conversation Roderich could've gone without.

Vienna, 1774.

Once his carriage safely rolled to a stop, Austria stepped out of it and stretched. While even he could not deny the beauty of Paris, nothing pleased the heart quite like home. Servants rushed about him, ushering in his extensive luggage. Sidestepping away from them, he gazed up at the early-morning sky and allowed himself the luxury of taking it all in. The fading purple of night, the sun shyly poking its face out through his hedges, and the birds singing their daily hymns. Truly, there was nowhere quite like home.

Feeling sufficiently uplifted, he entered the home and mindlessly made his way up the stairs. He froze once his hand hovered above the doorknob to his bedroom. He had been burned once before doing this and while, thankfully, all other parties had been asleep, the event had caused him enough mental anguish to power him through another three decades. Still, the desire to change out of his travel clothes was nigh impossible to dismiss. Leaning an ear against the door, his decision was made for him when he heard something like a moan come from Erzsébet. Changing could wait.

All remnants of his good mood dissipated as he silently grumbled to himself about their guest. While it certainly came as no surprise – Erzsébet did this every time he was out of town and, honestly, Roderich had grown to expect it – but hearing them was different. Sure, he was no fool and they made no effort to pretend but having indisputable proof of their trysts was another. Roderich was cursed to have found a spouse and enemy full of cunning. He noted that, if the two of them ever put their powers to good use, he’d have to compliment them for it. For now, while he was their target, any appreciation was out of the question.

He felt his body yearning for caffeine and knew what the next item on his agenda must be. Still lost in his thoughts, he was completely caught off guard at the sight of a bare-chested Gilbert standing over the kitchen counter. It was comical, really, watching such a brutish man delicately pour cream into two dainty mugs, mentally measuring out the right amounts. Roderich stood back and watched the whole performance in domesticity, studying the man before him as he never had before. The way his back and shoulder muscles shifted with each movement; how he never slouched even when it would be far more comfortable to; how the whole time, he never stopped humming marches to himself.

This scene felt too intimate and Roderich understood that he was not its intended audience. What he needed most from his rival now was hostility and not misguided fantasies of marital bliss. He cleared his throat and stepped into Gilbert’s line of sight. “For me? How sweet of you.” He snatched the mug closest to him and added in his usual five spoonsful of sugar. He held up a finger when he felt Gilbert gearing up to protest. “She’s still asleep. Besides, no one likes waking up to cold coffee. It sets such a tone for the day.”

They settled into a tense silence, neither one wanting to acknowledge the other. It was childish, Roderich understood, but failing to will the other out of his existence was better than devolving into petty insults or a physical altercation. And, if he ignored all rational thoughts, he didn’t even care. When around each other, what else were they but ancient children? There was no reason for them to speak, why invent one?

“Paris again? How many times have you been there over the last three months?” There almost appeared to be a hint of affectionate teasing in Gilbert’s words.

Roderich turned to face him and was surprised to find Gilbert already observing him with mild interest. What a strange morning, one he wished he could find some escape in by returning to bed but felt certain would provide him with no real escape. If anything, the pair would wake him up and demand he leave his own damn bed for another room, that’s how selfish they were. Against his will, he felt himself noticing the strength in Gilbert’s body, all broad shoulders and muscle, the physique of the ideal warrior. All suddenly clicked on why Roderich always found himself flat on his ass whenever they’d begin to trade blows. His arrogance had blinded him to the fact that imperial power mattered little when they weren’t trying to kill each other on the battlefield. With biceps like that, his only chance to get the upper hand would be a swift kick to the groin, which even at his worst he was too principled to resort to.

He was brought back to reality when Gilbert began snapping his fingers in his face. “Jesus, has anyone ever told you how creepy that staring thing you do is? Like you were trying to undress me with your eyes.” He straightened up and shivered. “Commission a portrait, it’ll last longer.”

“Please, don’t be so crass. This,” Roderich flippantly pointed to Gilbert’s outfit, “is already enough. If I imagined you in any less, I’d be ill for at least a month.”

Gilbert smirked as he took a sip. “Funny, most people have the opposite reaction.” He leaned his hips back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Now, how much more stalling can you do? What’s kept you in Paris so much? I don’t recall most treaties taking that much time to…hammer out.” He bit his lip, trying to suppress his snickering.

“It’s rude to talk work at breakfast.” Austria couldn’t be bothered to mask his irritation. Things such as ‘politeness’ and ‘civility’ always seemed to go to waste on Prussia. “And, if you’re fishing for what’s in our agreement, you’ll have no such luck from me. You’re wasting your time.”

“You think I give a damn about what’s on a fucking piece of paper? As if I’d be wasting my time on that. I don’t know who blabs more for the right price, your officials or France’s.” Gilbert’s demeanor was too casual. “Most of the time, we don’t have to go to those damn meetings anyways. We’re little more than decorations, the bureaucrats have everything written before they even breathe a word to us. We know that, they know that. There are always ulterior motives for our little business trips. Whenever I come here, I tell my current minder I’ll be off doing a diplomatic something-or-other in Vienna for a week, don’t wait up.  They buy it even though they know the real reason I come to this shrine of gaudy antiques.”

“Your point, Gilbert?”

“My point is that you’re no different. Sure, you tell everyone that you’re renegotiating this or that little detail and maybe your officials believe it. And you tell it to Erzsi, and she believes it since it’s easier than thinking the husband she loathes so much is just as miserable as her. And maybe you believe it too because you have to lie to yourself first to lie to everyone else. But you can’t fool me.”

The whole time he spoke, Roderich was staring down into the contents of his mug. When all was quiet between them was when he finally looked up, laughing. “You must be desperate if you’re begging to get a morsel of gossip on me from me.”

Gilbert scoffed. “I’m not fishing for gossip. If I was, I would’ve gone through your letters while you were gone. And, before you ask, I’ve never done that. Not for lack of trying, I’m just not good at picking locks.”

The vein behind Roderich’s left eye began pulsating. He rubbed his temple gingerly, wincing. “I think I prefer it when you act like you can’t stand to be in the same room with me. Why the annoying younger brother schtick?”

“Maybe I’m making up for lost time.” For added emphasis, Gilbert made sure to loudly schlurp down a sip. Roderich’s wince at such a noise caused him to snort some coffee out his nose. Wiping it away, he grinned. “Or maybe I just want you to stop thinking you’re any better than me. Get you when you’re unguarded.”

“There’s a glaring hole in your plan. You’ve forgotten that I would never allow myself to be so vulnerable around you, no matter what time of day it is.” He mockingly shook his head, tutting. “I understand that, for now, we’re officially getting along just fine, but don’t mistake that for camaraderie. The first chance either of us gets, we’ll be back to stabbing each other in the back for sport. It’s who we are.”

“Well, aren’t you a pessimist.”

“Hardly. I simply know our natures too well,” Roderich sighed, growing weary at this line of conversation. “So, if this is only temporary, why should I feign tolerance towards you? Quite honestly, you’re not important enough to me for that sort of performance. Even if you were, you would see right through it. No, my energy is better spent on nobler pursuits.”

Gilbert had set his mug down, now drumming his fingers on the countertop. “I’m not asking for friendship; I’m asking for honesty.” He rolled his eyes with the temperament of a teenager. “Whatever. You got me sidetracked. It’s pointless anyways; you’re too delusional.”

“Excuse me?” That was quite the accusation from an unusual source. “At this point, you may as well come right out and say it.”

“If you insist,” Gilbert’s tone lilted up, songlike and jeering. “What you won’t admit is what I started this whole conversation with. All these trips to Paris, they’re not about work or diplomacy or any of your other shitty excuses. I know and you know that the only purpose is to blow a load in Francis’ ass and get away from your miserable life.”

Roderich set his mug down gently. There was no need for it to spill, to make a mess all over the clean marble. “For a moment, I’m going to ignore the vulgar insinuation you’ve made about my relationship with Francis.” He looked up, not breaking eye contact with Gilbert. “You know nothing about my life and my contentment with it. I understand that you are a deeply unhappy and wretched creature and why shouldn’t you be? There is nothing for you to go home and boast about, no shining accomplishments of yours not bathed in the blood of an innocent people, but do not project your misery onto me. For all your crowing to the contrary, we have never been, nor will we ever be, the same.”

Gilbert scoffed. “And everything you’ve ever done, there was only glory to be found there? All the princes you absorbed into your own lands, they were willing? The Bohemians, the Hungarians, they love your rulers? Are you pretending that only Russia and I invaded Poland because I remember seeing you at the table, carving out portions for yourself.”

“I’m not so naïve to believe I haven’t picked up the sword before. And, if necessary, I would again. You’d be wise to remember that.” Roderich straightened up, pulling his shoulders back. “But I’ve achieved just as much without force as with. The home we’re currently standing is a monument to such.”

“Please. It’s a monument to other people’s power and what it can get you. We don’t impact change, we just ride the waves of it,” Gilbert sneered. “This house is a prison for all who come in it. A golden cage is still a cage, Roderich, even for the largest bird.”

Roderich sighed with a roll of his eyes. “Mixing your metaphors doesn’t make you sound wiser, I’ve told you this before.” Needing caffeine for his growing headache, he took a sip. “I assume you’re including yourself among the captives.”

“To a degree. I can leave whenever I want – as you love to point out, I do have my own house – but where would one of us be without the other two? We are the protagonists of our own tragedy.”

“I sincerely regret that old king of yours got you into theater. Next you’ll be telling me how all the world’s a stage and we are but merely players.” When Gilbert opened his mouth to comment on that, Roderich held up his hand. “That wasn’t an invitation for your Shakespearean theories!” He rubbed the bridge between his nose, his prior weariness intensifying. “Why does it matter to you so much? Why must I parade my discontent as you and Erzsébet do? If you make your life’s purpose revenge against an unjust world – there you go! I admit it’s unjust! – you are sure to become more miserable than ever before. Perhaps you should learn that before it destroys you like one of your dear tragedies.”

“It matters because you act like you’re superior to us in every way when, really, you’re no different. And I don’t think I’ll ever understand that,” Gilbert’s voice softened with something akin to regret.

Something in his tone of voice, in his posturing, lit a fire within Roderich. His eyes hardened and he pressed his lips into a scowl. “Understanding is what you want? If it’ll get the defiling power of your pity off me, then so be it! I am better than you in every conceivable way. If I am to you but a mirror, peer close and you’ll realize it too. Where you feel trapped by the circumstances life has thrown us in, with a life that can never truly be our own, I’ve taken what you’ve failed to grasp. While you were slaughtering pagan Easterners in your little bog, I was here, accumulating wealth and power you’ve only fantasized about. I am the seat of an empire that you only have access to through Brandenburg.

“But those are meaningless things, aren’t they? Because here’s what really matters to you – the only thing, isn’t it? I’ve seen how you stare; I know that look – I’ve got what a childhood spent pining among the monks prevented you from getting. Did you ever mention it to them? How young love made that vow of celibacy torturous? How close did you come to breaking it? How many Hail Mary’s did they make you perform for every impure thought? Do you wonder what they’d think of you now, going through all this because you’re in love with your brother’s wife? Phrased just so, they would burn you at the stake again. Ah, but the hellfire is familiar, isn’t it?” Roderich glanced at the clock hanging behind Gilbert’s shoulder. “Erzsébet should be waking now. Go play domestic and bring my wife some coffee.”

Roderich forced himself away from Gilbert, who was left crestfallen with his wide eyes and gaping mouth. He had said enough, gloating would be overkill. He entered his study and locked the door. If there would be consequences for his monologue, let them come later.

The day was still new. Roderich stared out the window. Despite checking the clock, his adrenaline had made him forget the time. He approximated it was no more than nine. He began pouring himself a glass of brandy, but stopped, preferring to drink from the bottle. He gazed around the vast emptiness of the room beyond its sole occupant. He raised the bottle for a toast:

“To the prison of my own making. There is no place quite like home.”

[cosmicbash]

I'm hesitant to post this, because??? Honestly?? I'm not 100% sure I haven't already posted it. I was perusing my Google docs trying to relabel stuff as posted and such to better organize and found this, which @lemon-coke and me both can't figure out if I ever posted. So.

Better to repost it and give you all something to reread then not post it all I assume.

Sorry!

It starts out as a misunderstanding, of course, because how else would their relationship begin?

A series of short tentative chats that somehow blossom into a full on dinner together, Colson sweating and more anxious than he's ever been in his life. It just doesn't seem real, that not only could he be mending this feud with his idol but also sitting across from him at some fancy restaurant table learning Eminem eats his steaks well done like some child. And laughing about it. 

He's actually laughing. With his idol, his rival, his highschool crush. Long legs kicking out under the table at his own bad jokes, Em half smirking back at him. Their feet brushing one too many times for the color to leave his cheeks even after he's done giggling.

By the time Colson is talking Em into splitting some crazy good looking chocolate cake he actually feels better than he has in years. Since before the beef. So of course something has to go wrong. It really would have to be a dream for things not to sour.

He wants to pretend the first few flirty comments are in his head. That Em reaching across the table to roughly rub some chocolate off his cheek is a Detroit thing. But by the time they're finished eating and waiting for the check Colson's creeping suspicion has turned into full on alarm bells blaring. There's just no way to excuse the nervous looks or Em's almost hesitant invitation up to his hotel room. 

It feels like a slap to the face. Everything suddenly makes sense. Why they're eating in the other rapper's hotel, why Em is even speaking to him. None of this is to repair their relationship or end the beef. It's all just some poorly hidden buttering up before Em asks him to get down on his knees. 

Colson should blow up. He should just lash out and throw his fist into Em's face. Storm out and flag down the valet. He's not some escort that the rapper can rent for the night and feed a fancy dinner to.

But there's that guilty feeling that has settled into the pit of his stomach. The one that's been there since he first lashed out and ruined everything with his diss track, the comments about Hailey, his childish bitching in interviews. It's only doubled since they first sat down to eat. Every muffled chuckle and weakly hidden smile from the older man digging that pit deeper and deeper. Showing him what he carelessly threw away in some desperate grab for attention.

It's got a small voice in the back of Colson's head warning him how if he says no and storms out he's just doing the same thing all over again, cutting Em out of his life. This time possibly forever.

So Colson bites his tongue and nods. His fingers anxiously climbing up into his hair to help hide the guilty look he knows must be on his face when he stutters out a "y-yeah, yeah, sure."

The genuine smile Em flashes back at him at his agreement just feels like a knife being jammed next to the shovel.

How can the man look so fucking blissful about something that feels like borderline blackmail?

But Em does. He looks stunned, downright flustered even at first at his response. Then happy. A happy that isn't hidden by some fake cough or behind a delicate yet strong looking hand for once. It gives Colson something precious to hold onto in the sea of uncomfortable and nasty emotions twisting up his stomach while the older rapper pays. 

The knot just twists itself up tighter once they're in the elevator, his silence thankfully brushed off as nervousness by Em. The almost shy glance of steely blue eyes his way making him feel so small while buttons are pressed. Usually Colson would blame this kind of nausea on the ride itself, but for once his phobia of the small metal deathtraps is actually being overpowered. A new fear worming its way through his guts as each floor number blinks to life.

He doesn't want to freak out. To run away, but hes too goddamn sober for this. Avoiding smoking and turning down the offer of wine at dinner just to try and impress his idol was threatening to be his downfall. If he'd known Em was going to show such little respect and consideration to his being like this he would have lit a fat one up right there at the table. Hell, maybe that would have changed the older man's mind about propositioning him in the first place. Surely a druggie asshole was less appealing to make drop to their knees instead of his current carefully put together primped and meek self.

"Only a few more floors. Don't go green on me just yet Kelly." 

Colson didn't know whether to take the playful nudge as comforting or creepy. Maybe, a little flattering? If Em had actually looked into him enough to learn about his problem with elevators and the man just wasn't guessing off the apparent discolor of his face that is.

"Y-yeah."

Imagining Eminem of all people actually following his interviews or caring about his personal life that much felt like a pipe dream though. 

Outside of the next 20 minutes or however long it took for the bastard to get his rocks off he highly doubted Em would put much thought into his existence at all. Which would be fair. After all the shit he's said and done he really doesn't deserve the time of day from his idol. 

A ding and the elevator doors were opening. Colson's legs feeling numb beneath him when he finally lets go of the railing in the elevator to stumble forward. Thankful that Em's focus was on digging his room's keycard out of his wallet and not his clumsy steps. Each one bringing them closer and closer to their destination, making the whole situation so vividly real he couldn't help but panic again. The other man's forced small talk about how he "Doesn't usually book the penthouse suite-" falling on deaf ears.

It’s ironic, how often he had dreamed for this exact scenario. For Eminem to be leading him up to some fancy high end hotel room, promising to shower him fully in his attention and gaze. Only now, with his dream coming true right before his eyes he can’t help but feel bittersweet about the heated gaze holding him frozen just outside the door. Em’s final offer for him to back down before they both step through the threshold clear as day in the look.

The twist in his gut tells Colson to take it, to just spin around on his heel and run away with his tail tucked between his legs. Accept he’s too much of a coward and too full of himself to actually mend their beef.

But the desperate need he feels for forgiveness and absolvement pushes Colson forward instead. Sheer will alone giving him the confidence to twirl his idols hoodie strings around his fingers to drag Em inside with him. The loud beat of his heart completely smothering the other man’s flustered outburst. 

Just like in church the blonde finds himself on his knees not too long after entering. Mouth open and hands clasped together, ready to ask for forgiveness. Except this god he’s praying to is running it’s fingers through his hair, and there’s a stiff cock separating his palms. A chorus of curses and “Holy fuck, K-Kelly just wait a second, shit, your tongue is-“ tickling his ears instead of hymns.

He’s never sucked a cock before, and it’s embarrassing how quickly he finds himself choking. But Colson doesn’t give up, even when his jaw starts to ache and the grip on his hair grows a bit too tight. His discomfort doesn’t matter here. He just needs to make Em happy, earn the forgiveness he doesn’t deserve.

“Can I- fuck, can I fuck your face?” Both of the older rapper’s palms are holding his bangs away from his face, tilting his head back just enough to force their eyes to meet. The shame in his chest doubles but so does the surprising tightness in his jeans when he sees the uncharacteristic flush to Em’s cheeks.

He isn’t experienced, the smart thing to do would be pull off and admit that. He’s seen first hand how disastrous things can go but his head bobs in a yes anyway. Eyes already starting to water from how the action jabs the other rappers cock right against his gag reflex.

A low groan is all the warning he gets before Em’s fingers are knotting in his hair, forcing his head down to meet the thrust of strong hips. Stuffing that hard dick down his throat so fast it burns and his hands can’t help but flail, helplessly grabbing onto the meat of the older rapper’s thighs through his sweats. Unable to even steal another gasp of air before it happens again. Em’s hips pistoning forward to fuck his mouth like some cheap replaceable toy. 

Even after he gags and gurgles spit the rapper doesn’t stop. 

The harsh pants of praise and encouragement burning his ears just as hotly as the tears in his eyes. “Ah, so good. So fucking good baby, the best, ah-“

Colson doesn’t know what’s worse, how quickly his heart skips at the surprise tern of endearment or how pathetically his cock jerks in his underwear. Not that he has much time to think on it with how Em abruptly forces his face right down to the bone, soft and scratchy pubes tickling his nose. Startling him before the other man’s blowing his load, Colson’s eyes widening and nails cutting deeply into Em’s legs while he chokes. There’s too much, even with his throat reflexively swallowing it still fills up his mouth and bursts out the sides. Dripping down his chin and out onto his shirt when Em finally pulls him off.

It’s salty, and thick. Nothing like the eggnog Rook’s joked to him it tastes like. There’s nothing sweet about this thick cream, even if the lightheaded feeling he’s got from milking it out still makes him feel drunk. 

“Shit. I wanna take a picture.“ Em’s palm is tilting his head back again, dragging his glassy eyes up away from the twitching spit slick cock in front of him. Thumb forcing his tongue down flat to flash what he can only imagine has to be a white mess before the hand in his hair is fumbling out a phone. “Can I?”

He almost wants to laugh at how the brunette doesn’t even wait for his answer before there is the unmistakable flash of a phone light temporarily blinding him. A curse and then another two, these ones at least allowing him the chance to shut his eyes tightly.

The shame within him is boiling, burning through his veins like lava and making his heart drop down into his stomach.

“So pretty-“ Em’s fingers are releasing his tongue and jaw to rake through his bangs yet again. Exposing his face even though Colson wants nothing more than to hide. A stifled sob tearing at his aching throat while he swallows what he can inside his mouth without completely gagging.

He can’t cry. That would ruin the mood wouldn't it? And if it doesn't, Colson doesn't know how he would handle having Em laugh at his tears. The almost soft demeanor and shy quality to his tone is all thats keeping the blonde from running away as it is. 

The shuffle of shoes and curl of strong fingers pulling him up startles Colson's eyes back open. Lashes fluttering to blink away the brief flash of wetness that's blurred his vision before he realizes he's being kissed. That Em's palms are cupping his jaw yet again, helping him to his feet. 

It's scratchy, and softer than he expects. Not that he was expecting Eminem to be kissing him in the first place, but the man doesn't relent. Just keeps kissing him, even after he's grown to his full height and the angle of their heads has switched. Em's tongue snaking its way inside his mouth while they stumble back further into the room. Until Colson's head is feeling fuzzy and his knees weak, the cushioned crash of his body hitting a mattress barely felt.

It feels wrong when Em's hands smooth up over his chest and down inside his jeans. The uncontrollable kick of his hips up into a tight hand around his cock almost blasphemous. There's no reason for Em to even be bothering with touching him there, he doesn't deserve it. But the rapper is sucking and nibbling along his neck, up into his ear to whisper a dozen filthy praises and compliments. None of them possibly true.

"So pretty-" "Perfect-" "Wanted to touch you for so long-" 

"Stop-" Colson's hands feel shaky as they drag his idols face back up to meet his in a messy kiss. Breath tight while he tries to speak between pecks. "Just- fuck, just hurry-"

When he winds up on his stomach some point into the night, Em's too big cock pressing hard against his entrance he can't help but cry out. The pitiful fist he shoves between his own teeth doing nothing to stifle the sound.

It hurts, more than the thin fingers he'd taken only moments prior. But not as much as the soothing shushes and affectionate run of hands through his hair. 

[magniloquent-raven]

See What This is Worth

Harringrove Week of Love: Day 4

Teacher AU || School Dance

Rated: T

Read on Ao3

Billy is not, by nature, the kind of person who likes to be overly helpful. He doesn’t go out of his way for people he doesn’t know. He’s not especially charitable. 

And yet here he is, taking time out of his Friday night, setting up tables and supervising idiots with no upper body strength who think they can move a whole stack of chairs on their own. He has better things to do than hang out at work and chaperone a bunch of middle-schoolers trying to score their first kiss to some truly grating top 40 shit. 

He didn’t even like school dances when he was a student. As a middle-schooler he was too fucking terrified that some girl might ask him to dance, so he just never went. And in high school...well. He ended up more the type to get high in the parking lot and ditch with whatever chick was too drunk to notice he didn’t put out. 

There was never a boy he liked well enough to do this shit with. Get dressed up and pretend not to want to dance and get flustered when he so much as touches a hand. No one in school was worth suffering through this shit for. 

Until now, unfortunately.

He’s a grown-ass man and somehow feels like a dumb, lovestruck teen and it’s all Steve Harrington’s fault.

Him and his fucking face, and his ass, and his looking unfairly good in a suit. 

He looks good in his stupid dorky khakis and paint-splattered apron too, but holy shit Billy never really got the phrase cleans up nice until he saw Steve in formal wear. His hair all combed neatly for once, wearing a blazer and slacks that have clearly been tailored. 

Billy is seriously considering sending a thank you note to whatever tailor Steve visits, because they are very good at their job. 

Good enough that Billy’s spending half his goddamn time staring at Steve’s ass instead of setting up. He’s bossing some volunteers around, gesturing animatedly about crepe paper and streamers and it’s so distractingly endearing that Billy kind of forgets he’s supposed to be doing anything other than watch Steve work.

And he gets caught. Steve turns, spots Billy staring. Scowls. Which is kind of his default expression when looking at Billy. 

As much as Billy secretly wants to have Steve look at him like he can actually stand spending more than five minutes in the same room, the irritated frown kind of suits Steve. It’s cute. And when he gets pissed it’s hot. His eyes get all intense, mouth set in a firm line and Billy may or may not have had a fantasy or two about Steve making that exact face right before absolutely destroying his ass, so...Steve might not like him, but Billy’s dealing. 

By being annoying, but still. 

He wiggles his fingers in a sarcastic little wave, leaning a little more pointedly. He’s been lounging against the wall for way too long, his shoulder is going numb, but he’s not about to scramble to look like he’s doing something just because Steve spotted him.

Steve’s shoulders heave as he sighs, eyes rolling skyward. He hands his clipboard to the nearest volunteer, whispering something before turning on his heel and marching over. 

Billy’s inspecting his nails when Steve reaches him. Stops a few paces away and folds his arms. 

“Something I can do for you, Harrington?” He knows the bored tone gets to Steve, so he plays it up.

“Yeah. You were supposed to be helping Nancy put chairs out. You know, the thing you signed up for?” There’s still an edge to that statement, has been since Billy walked into the first committee meeting with a big, shit-eating grin and Steve glared at him looking like he was about to pop a blood vessel. He always says it all accusatory, like he’s not sure Billy even did sign up, and he’s just hanging around to be a nuisance.

Which, he is, but he’s doing it officially. 

Has his little chaperone badge and everything. It’s pinned to his jacket, which he isn’t actually wearing, but he has it. 

“Got tired,” Billy says with a dramatic weariness, head lolling to the side, rolling back against the wall. He looks up at Steve through his eyelashes. “I’m allowed to take a break aren’t I?”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “Hargrove, you’re telling me moving flimsy plastic chairs tired you out? You’re built like a brick wall.” He puts his hands on his hips and gets the same look he gets when his students start throwing clay around. 

“Are you objectifying me?” Billy puts a hand on his chest with mock-offence, the corners of his mouth turning upward with genuine delight. His grin brightens when Steve’s cheeks flush, gaze darting away, the annoyance flagging a little, replaced with something else for just a moment.

“I’m stating a fact. In a completely...imparted way.”

“Think you mean ‘impartial’.” 

The flush darkens, a splotchy red instead of the petal pink he was a moment ago, and his mouth twists. “Whatever,” he mutters. “You’ve been standing here for like ten minutes, man, get back to work.”

He stalks off in a huff, leaving Billy wondering how the hell Steve knew how long he’d been slacking off for.

Then again, he is in charge, so. He’s probably keeping tabs on everyone. At least that’s what Billy has to tell himself so the butterflies in his stomach don’t get any ideas. 

He wanders off, back to where he was supposed to be, but Wheeler doesn’t actually need his help. She got most of the chairs in place while he was checking out her ex. He gets an impatient brush-off when he half-heartedly asks her if there’s any more work to do. 

She never did like him much. 

Not that he’s bothered, he doesn’t care for her either. She’s too snooty. Up her own ass. Self-righteous. ...and Steve’s ex. 

Rumour has it Steve’s finally over her, but Billy will believe it when he sees it, the man hasn’t been on a date since Wheeler tore his heart to shreds three years ago. 

Heather gossips, okay. She’s nosy, and her family knows Wheeler’s family, who know Steve, and word gets around. These upper class assholes never have anything better to do than talk behind each other’s backs. Especially when the only son of a wealthy family is, at 28, single and teaching snot-nosed brats how to fingerpaint. 

And Billy has a vested interest, sue him. He asks some pointed questions here and there. 

God, he’s never gotten this fucking desperate over a guy before. Pining away. Putting up with Nancy Wheeler bossing him around at meetings because he doesn’t want to piss her off too much just in case that’s the final straw for Steve. The thing that tips their rapport from not-friendly to outright hostile. 

Because for some reason the guy still gives a shit about the ex who cheated on him. Fucking martyr. 

Billy’s not sure if he’s jealous that she gets forgiven and he gets angry glares for no goddamn reason, or if he’s just flabbergasted that anyone would be that self-sacrificing. Both, maybe. It’s a little impressive, honestly. How far out of his way Steve will go to forgive people. 

Except Billy.

Who still doesn’t know what he did wrong in the first place.

Not that it bothers him. No, not at all. He’s just constantly thinking about it, and trying to hold on to every detail of the early days of their interactions so he can analyze those moments for clues, and sometimes lying awake at night wondering if he’s just fundamentally unlovable and he’s never gonna figure out what he did wrong because he just is wrong. 

He’s fine. It’s fine.

Thank god Steve is occupied for the rest of set-up. Always finding someone who isn’t Billy to boss around when he isn’t physically doing something himself. Gives Billy some room to breathe. And watch, like a weirdo.

He gets a couple weird looks from other volunteers but that’s nothing new. Wheeler glaring at him. Heather smirking. That one parent chaperone who’s here early and was making eyes at him at first, but it’s devolved into side-eye. 

He thought maybe the dance actually starting would be a distraction, but it’s just loud. He’s still constantly stealing glances at Steve. While he’s making small talk. While he’s repinning some streamers that got knocked loose. He looks gorgeous, even under the harsh fluorescent lighting of a school gym, and Billy really wishes he had a flask on him right now.

Yelling at some rowdy kids doesn’t help either. Just earns him a dirty look from that one overprotective chaperone mom. No one asked you, lady, the kid was bouncing around like an over-caffeinated gerbil, someone was gonna get hurt. It’s Billy’s job to break that shit up.

He needs a smoke. This is unbearable.

Slipping out of the gym unnoticed is easier than he thought it would be. No one seems to give a shit that he’s sidling out, which is a little insulting, honestly. But useful.

The hallways are quiet. Empty. It’s always a little creepy being here at night. The squeak of his boots on the linoleum, the artificial white light keeping the nighttime gloom out, it always feels a little dream-like. Nightmarish maybe. Liminal. 

He props the door open on his way out, with a chair he lifted from a nearby classroom. The last thing he needs is to get locked out. Embarrassing. He’d probably just leave, but then he’d get chewed out for ditching.

He sighs, turning his face skyward for a moment to breathe before he lights up.

The cool air is a relief after being cooped up with so many rambunctious pre-teens. Billy’s still not a fan of Indiana weather, and he probably never will be, but anything is better than being in there another goddamn second. 

This was a terrible idea. It was barely an idea. An impulse decision that got his ass stuck babysitting on a Friday night just so he could spend more time staring at Steve. 

Pathetic. 

Maybe he should just ditch right now. 

He’s weighing the pros and cons when a familiar voice cuts into his contemplation.

“Hargrove, where the hell did you—” Steve’s face appears when he pokes his head out the cracked-open door. His pinchy annoyed face. He wrinkles his nose when he spots Billy, and the cigarette in his hand. “Seriously?”

Billy shrugs. Puts the cigarette between his lips and takes a pointed drag, cheeks hollowing.

Steve, who was trying to sidle out past the chair, trips. The chair clatters to the ground, Steve stumbling in the opposite direction, arms out and flailing. 

The door slams shut behind him.

Billy gapes, incredulous gaze flicking between Steve, frozen in place, and the closed door. “Seriously?”

“...Shit. I—” Steve grimaces. Runs a hand through his hair, tousling his neatly combed locks. “You have your key, right?”

The glare Billy levels at him is positively icy. “Yeah, no, of course I do, the chair was there for fun. I wasn’t worried about being locked out at all.” 

“Okay, okay, Jesus. You don’t have to be such a dick about it.”

“Don’t I?” It comes out far more bitterly than intended. Steve stares at him.

“No? What kind of—” he huffs, loud, frustrated, “What the fuck is your deal, Hargrove?”

Well. That’s a layered question. One he isn’t going to answer even a little bit. He scoffs instead, turning away and taking another angry pull off his cigarette. It warms him but does nothing for the pit in his stomach.

They stand there in silence for a beat. The muffled noise from inside is muted, distant. 

“Fine, whatever,” Steve mutters. “I just don’t get why you hate me so much.”

And he sounds hurt. He sounds sad, and it throws Billy for a loop. Knocks him down a little. But then his chest gets tight, his heart flip-flopping around in the clutches of something caustic and resentful.

He flicks ash in Steve’s direction with an emphatic gesture, a petty vindictiveness. “You’re kidding, right?” he snaps. Steve’s jaw drops, just for a second, surprise passing over his face, before his expression hardens, his mouth snaps shut, jaw clenching.

“Alright, fine, I get it, what’s not to hate.” He clutches his elbows, not quite folding his arms. It looks more like he’s hugging himself. “Good talk.” 

Billy squints at him. The tense line of his shoulders, the way he can’t quite meet Billy’s eye. He’s struck with the absurd urge to pull Steve into his arms. The impulse just pisses him off more. “You know what, princess, you get what you give, alright? You can’t treat someone like shit from the jump and then get mad when they don’t want to be your best fucking friend. Fuck you.” 

“What? I never—”

“Oh, you never? You never asked Heather why she ‘puts up with such an asshole’?” He tosses his hands in the air, air quoting around the phrase, and takes a step towards Steve. “The day after we met? And you never talked over me at my first staff meeting, right? You would never.” Another step. He doesn’t think about it, doesn’t do it on purpose, but he ends up standing inches from Steve. The cold air mists their breath, and it mingles in one seething cloud between them. “You’ve been treating me like the dirt under your shoe since I got here, Harrington, don’t you dare act like you haven’t.”

Steve sets his jaw, a stubborn tilt to his chin. “You were an asshole. I still don’t get why she puts up with you!”

Billy grinds his teeth. He’s asked Heather that himself. With varying degrees of seriousness. It stings hearing it from someone else. 

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be people pleasers,” he spits, hands clenching into fists at his side. To channel his anger, more than anything else. He isn’t seventeen anymore, he can’t just start throwing punches at a co-worker. 

His nails bite into the skin of his palm, sweat stinging the shallow scrapes, and his hands tremble, itch. 

“I’m not—you know what, I’m not doing this with you.” He steps back. Just like that. Like it’s that easy to walk away. Like none of this matters to him, and he’s just...venting frustrations that have nothing to do with Billy. Because Billy doesn’t matter to him. This is about getting locked out of his own stupid party. Or Wheeler saying something bitchy maybe. Or any number of things going on in his life that Billy doesn’t know about because he’s not a part of it. 

And the tumbling, tangling web of twisting thoughts wrap around each other ‘til none of them make sense, ‘til he doesn’t know what he’s upset about he’s just gutted, just standing there in the cold staring at Steve, his eyes stinging and his toes going numb because he didn’t wear his good socks today.

He shouldn’t give a shit about this either, but he does. 

Story of his fucking life, apparently.

Steve’s gaze wanders, looking for what, Billy doesn’t know, but his profile lit up by a dirty streetlamp has got to be the most beautiful fucking thing Billy’s ever seen. He wants to kiss Steve so badly it hurts. 

And he hates that he still does, even when he’s angry. Even bitter and hurting he still wants. 

He flicks his cigarette butt away and shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“The fuck are you looking for, Harrington,” he asks flatly, as Steve cranes his neck peering around the building. 

Steve shoots him a glare. “Trying to remember if any of the doors got left unlocked.” He shivers violently, and sticks his hands in his armpits. “It’s freezing out here, in case you didn’t notice, and I’m not really into the idea of frostbite, so.”

“What, Mr.Born-and-raised-in-Indiana can’t handle a little snow?” Billy sneers. It’s petty, he knows. It’s not fair. Because Steve is out here in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, dressed to be in a sweaty, crowded gymnasium. Billy at least grabbed his jacket before he came out here, knowing he was going to be a while, and he’s still clenching his jaw against the urge to let his teeth chatter. 

The look that earns him is withering, though it’s undercut slightly by the awkward way Steve shuffles his arms around, trying to unroll his sleeves without exposing his fingers to the cold. 

Billy rolls his eyes. “Forget it, pretty boy, Wheeler made her boytoy check all the doors before the dance started. Either wait ‘til someone notices you’re gone or break a window.” 

“Great,” Steve mutters, and shudders again. 

“Why do you still talk to her, anyways?” He tries for casual and misses by a mile. Steve’s eyebrows shoot upwards and Billy tries again. “Just making conversation. We could be out here a while.”

“And that was what you—whatever. She and I are friends. Why wouldn’t I talk to her.”

“C’mon,” Billy scoffs, “Plenty of reasons. You still hung up on her or something? Hangin’ around hoping for another shot?”

“Definitely not.”

It shouldn’t make Billy’s heart leap but it does. Just because he’s not still sniffing around after Wheeler’s granny panties anymore doesn’t mean he has any interest in Billy. “Really now.”

“Yes, really, Jesus Christ. Why do you care.” 

“I don’t.” Billy lies, and looks away, affecting disinterest. He sniffs. “It’s just weird, is all. I sure as shit wouldn’t hang around someone after they cheated on me.”

Steve is staring. Billy can feel his gaze boring into the side of his head. He glances out of the corner of his eye, watches Steve furrow his brow and frown. “It wasn’t—It was more complicated than that. I wasn’t...good. We weren’t good together.” He stops himself, biting his lip, and shakes his head. 

“Hm.” Billy chews his thumbnail. It almost feels like they’re getting somewhere, but it’s so fragile Billy’s afraid to open his mouth and ruin it. The silence stretches, filled only by Steve’s rustling shivers, and Billy’s own unsteady heartbeat. “My car keys are in my jacket pocket,” he ventures, after long enough that the silence has gotten awkward. 

“What! How long were you going to keep that to yourse—”

“Do you want to take advantage of my heater, or not.” 

“Jesus Christ, yes.”

“Alright.”

They don’t talk on the walk over. Snow crunches beneath Billy’s boots, and Steve slips a few times on patches of icy pavement. 

And Billy feels somehow nervous. Like he’s invited Steve to his goddamn bedroom or something. 

Or maybe he’s just worried this tentative peace will end with their conversation going where it always does, blowing up in his goddamn face. But they’ve never actually spent that much time alone, he has no idea how this is going to work. 

Best case scenario it ends with Steve half-dressed in the backseat of his car, but he’s not stupid enough to hope for that.

Fantasize about it, sure, but…

Steve actually being in his car is a surreal experience. Filling the small cab with his clean laundry scent, sweet and subtle, faint enough to be a tease, and he has to restrain himself from taking big embarrassing sniffs to satisfy his sudden craving for more. 

He wonders if the smell will linger. How long Steve will be a phantom presence in his space. 

Waste of time to think about it now, while he’s actually here. 

Billy distracts himself by keeping his hands busy. Fumbling with the keys in his stiff fingers. Poking the overhead button to flip on the interior light. Flicking the dials on his console. The heater’s fan drones almost as loudly as the engine. Somehow the white noise makes the silence less stressful.

Steve rubs his hands together in front of the nearest vent, hissing through his teeth. “Fuck, fuck, I can’t feel my goddamn fingers,” he mutters, the hair on his forehead flopping as he moves. 

“You weren’t out there that long,” Billy chuckles. Steve’s clumsy flailing is stupid endearing, Billy is shamelessly turned in his seat to watch him, the doorhandle digging into his spine, his knee pulled up and leaning on the seat’s backrest. 

“Oh come on, you grew up in California, how are you fine right now?” Steve groans, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. His gaze darts up and down Billy’s form before flicking away again.

It’s common knowledge where Billy is from. He doesn’t exactly hide it. There’s a goddamn Malibu postcard tacked up in his office, pictures of his old surfboard. But it still makes Billy a little giddy that Steve pays enough attention to know that. 

“I run hot,” Billy says casually, and grins, tongue between his teeth. Truth be told, he wasn’t fine, he was fucking freezing, he’s just good at hiding physical discomfort. 

Steve’s cheeks flush a little pinker, and his gaze gets suspiciously focused on the vent in front of him.

“So…” Steve licks his lips, pausing, “Uh. What was it like? California.”

Billy blinks at him. “Warmer than this shithole, for starters.” 

He feels off balance suddenly. First-date-jittery. Which is ridiculous because he’s never gotten first date jitters. And this isn’t a date. Not even close. But still, when Steve laughs quietly it gets the butterflies in Billy’s stomach far too excited. Like he’s ten and discovering the wonders of holding a boy’s hand all over again. 

“I uh. Can’t go back there.” Billy chews the inside of his cheek, watching Steve closely. 

“Why, you a wanted criminal or something?”

Billy snorts. “Glad to know you think so highly of me. No, I meant...lotta shit happened there that I’d rather not remember.”

There were good things too. More good memories in California than after they moved, but that doesn’t stop the awful shit from tainting the whole goddamn state for him. Just makes it harder that it does. 

Hard to want to go back to a place where you almost died, no matter how many times your mom took you to the beach there.

Steve meets his gaze, his eyes soft, and it punches the breath from Billy’s lungs for a second. “Yeah, I get that.” He hums, and tucks his hands between his thighs. The position makes him look oddly demure. “I, uh. Have some experience with avoiding bad memories, y’know. Doesn’t end well. Repressing that kinda shit.”

“Pff,” Billy leans his head back against the window. The cold seeps through his curls. “You sound like Kali.”

“...Who?”

“Biker boots. Side shave. ‘Bout yea tall.” Billy waves his hand around his shoulder. “You met her once. I brought her to that stupid Christmas party couple years back.”

“Oh.” Steve looks down at his lap. “Your girlfriend.”

Billy chokes on his own spit. “What?”

“...Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, no, uh. No. Not even a little bit, man,” Billy laughs a little hysterically. 

“She was your date to that party though, right? Did it not work out, or…?”

“Jesus,” he mutters, and rubs the back of his neck. Steve’s staring, all wide-eyed and confused and fucking adorable. He weighs his options. Wonders how much he should divulge. The easiest way would be to just say no, and move on. The safest way. They’re stuck out here alone and he doesn’t know how well Steve would react to finding out he’s stuck alone with a queer. 

It’s something Billy tends not to take risks on. If guys can’t figure him out on their own, he isn’t going to tell them. But in this case...he’s just annoyed that Steve hasn’t noticed yet. 

And besides, Steve spends half his time hanging around Robin Buckley—who Billy has his suspicions about—so it’s not like there’s no chance Steve would be okay with Billy being gay…

He takes a breath. Exhales slow and stares at the roof of the car. There’s a burn mark next to the rearview mirror where he might’ve stubbed out a cigarette. He’s had this damn car so long he doesn’t remember doing it.

“She’s a friend, Steve. And I borrowed her from her girlfriend that night,” he says, testing the waters. Steve blinks a little, lips parting, but doesn’t react any more than that. Doesn’t seem angry, or judgemental, or disgusted. “I’m not really ready to be out at work. So.” 

“Wait, Robin was right?” Steve blurts, sitting a little straighter, eyebrows shooting up. 

“Of course she noticed,” Billy mutters, picking at a loose thread on the cuff of his jacket. He doesn’t ask why Buckley was talking to Steve about him in the first place, let alone about his sexual preferences. He’s not sure he wants to know.

“I mean, she kept going on about lesbian psychic sense, and I told her if anyone’s got a lesbian psychic sense, it’s El, not her, but—” he cuts himself off, flushing. “I, uh. Oh. Huh. Guess I shoulda listened to her when she told me my gaydar was busted.” 

Well. That’s...something. Not the reaction he was expecting. Not that he did know what to expect, but still. “Yeah, you usually need to be queer to spot one,” he shrugs. Like he hasn’t been hoping Steve would pick up on his not-so-subtle hints this whole time, while dreading the possibility with equal fervour.

But Steve freezes then. Shoulders going stiff, his hands stilling. And Billy’s heart leaps. 

“I...” Steve fidgets, his palms rubbing together as he shifts his thighs. “Um. Am. I am. I’m bi.”

“Huh...” Billy licks his lips. “Well, shit, Harrington.”

He wonders how well he pulled off cool and unbothered. It’s usually something he’s alright at, but he’s not usually reacting to the goddamn man of his dreams telling him he’s into guys. His whole chest feels like it’s gonna explode.

“Mhm…” Steve hums, staring at his own hands, his face frustratingly neutral. 

“So.” Suddenly their childish rivalry annoys Billy. When Steve was just a straight boy he was pining after it felt good to punish him for being unattainable. Be up in his space without being too obvious about why. Get him all flushed and bothered in the only way he could. But now… “Why did it take us this long to get here?” Billy asks quietly. He knows his side of the story. Knows his own stubborn asshole nature played its part. But Steve…

His anger from earlier resurfaces. Steve treating him like he wasn’t worth his time, running on a loop in his head. 

He draws his knee up, hugging it to his chest, but keeps the bitterness out of his expression. It’s too likely to end up looking like sadness on his face right now. 

Steve shrugs. “Haven’t we already been through this?” He turns to stare out the window. Billy glares at the back of his head.

“No, Steve, we haven’t. You called me an asshole and then said you didn’t want to talk about it.”

“What else is there to say?”

“How ‘bout an explanation? What exactly did I do to you, pretty boy? And don’t give me that, you were a dick, bullshit, because you hated me from the jump. Way before I did anything to deserve it.” 

And he did, eventually, deserve it. He knows that. Doesn’t make the immediate brush-off feel any better. 

Steve’s back is stiff, and he’s crossed his arms. And he still won’t look at Billy.

Feels like they’re right back where they started, and Billy wants to crawl out of his own skin. He grits his teeth, and hisses, “Listen, I know you come from a family of fuckin’ bigshot lawyers or what-the-fuck-ever, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat people like dirt if they don’t—”

That, at least, gets Steve’s attention. He whips his head around, stares at Billy with his mouth open. “Is that what you think—Billy I haven’t had a real conversation with my parents in nearly ten years, I don’t give a shit about all that.” 

“Then what—”

“You make me feel dumb! Alright? Happy?”

Billy blinks at him. “What?”

Steve groans, throwing his hands up in frustration. “You—you show up here all, all hot and—” he waves a hand, gesturing up and down Billy’s body, “like that, and it was annoying enough that you knew that, strutting around like you own the place, but then you go and open your mouth and—” Steve buries his face in his hands, sighing, rubbing his eyes. “The first time I heard you talk you were explaining some shit about—about—nemo devices or something—”

“Mnemonic.”

“That! That right there, that thing you always do. I get it. Okay? You’re smarter than me. I’m just a dumb art teacher who gets headaches when he tries to read.” Steve throws himself back against the headrest, all furrowed brow and expressive hands.

And Billy stares. Frozen in place. He is, for once, at a loss for words. His mouth works soundlessly as he searches for something to say. But what falls out of him is, “You think I’m hot?” and he mentally slaps himself. 

“Really. That’s your takeaway?”

“No—no, well, I mean. Kind of. Yeah.” He wets his bottom lip. Tongues his cheek. 

Steve groans, “Seriously?” He tugs at a stray lock of hair. “No one who wears pants that tight doesn't know they’re attractive, alright, why is this surprising. I have eyes.”

“Because it’s you.” Billy’s brain slams to a halt the second he says it, shock freezing him in place. Apparently his filter is just fucking broken today, Jesus Christ.

“...What. Y’know what, fuck you, I’m not that unobservant—”

Billy snorts a disbelieving laugh, “Are you sure about that.” 

“Alright, fine, I didn’t realize you were gay, for like, a really long time, but you didn’t notice that I’m queer too, so there!” Steve looks at him, triumphant, like he’s won the argument—if that’s what this even is. And Billy scoffs, stupid, irrational competitiveness tightening like anger in his chest, and—

“It’s not the same, Harrington,” Billy says flatly, heart pounding. 

“And why not?”

“Because you haven’t been after my dick this whole time! You didn’t care if I knew that you’re queer,” he’s almost shouting, frustrated and not even sure what he’s trying to prove, arms thrown wide to punctuate his dumb and nonexistent point, until exactly what he just let slip sinks in. He lowers his hands, clenches them into fists resting on his thighs. Steve hasn’t said a word, he’s just staring, jaw slack. 

“Wait...so—”

“Don’t.” 

“But—”

“Harrington,” Billy growls.  

“Jesus Christ, Billy would you let me—”

“No.”

“I have been though!” Steve yells over him, and it stuns Billy enough that he falls silent. “Dumbass, I have been into you this whole goddamn time, are you kidding me?”

“...What.”

Steve runs restless fingers through his hair, making even more of a mess of it. “Listen, do you have any idea how irritating it was that you’re as hot as you are? I wanted to badly to hate you because you were so fucking annoying, but you were all—” he gestures to Billy, waving his hand around wildly, “like, a fucking...walking wet dream, so.”

“Gee, thanks,” Billy responds, utterly bemused. 

“And then I find out you’re a great teacher, and really smart, and kind of funny when you aren’t being a douche, and suddenly I’m head-over-heels for a guy I’m pretty sure hates me, because I have no self-respect apparently, and—” He stops, chest heaving, eyebrows drawn, and curls in on himself, folding his arms. 

“I never hated you.” 

Steve scoffs, dipping his chin ‘til his face is shadowed by his bangs.

“Listen to me,” Billy scoots forward, wedging his knee over the cupholders between their seats. He hesitates, a hand hovering mid-air while he tries to swallow the lump in his throat. And then touches Steve’s elbow. He jolts, looks up at Billy from under the fall of brown hair hanging over his forehead, his eyes are wide and questioning. Billy presses his fingertips firmer to the warmth of Steve’s skin under his starched dress shirt. “You care about your friends a ridiculous amount, it’s mind-boggling. Honestly. I grew up around people who would’ve barely given a shit if I died, and here you are worrying about everyone in your life, like it’s your fuckin’ job. You’re a good goddamn person, and I wanted…” he pauses, and bites his lip. “I was pissed that I wasn’t one of the people you cared about, alright. Fuckin’ Wheeler gets to be, but I...” He trails off, gestures vaguely.  

Steve’s fingers are cold, sneaking up from under his folded arm to touch the back of Billy’s hand. “You were. You are.” He ducks his head again, the ghost of a smile just barely visible before he disappears into shadow again. “I came out here to check on you, didn’t I?”

“I mean…I was supposed to be helping out inside—”

“Billy, there’s, like, eight volunteers in there, they can handle a bunch of middle-schoolers.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Steve lets out a quiet breath. “I, uh. I’m sorry. I never thought you gave a damn about my opinion, to be honest. I didn’t—I was just…”

“Insecure?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah.” 

And that’s something Billy’s more familiar with than he’d like to be. He squeezes Steve’s forearm. “You’re not stupid, you know.”

“It’s fine, I know I am. Everybody in my life is some kinda damn genius, so. Someone had to draw the short straw.” 

“Shut the fuck up, Steve.” That gets his attention, surprised eye-contact, and Billy tilts his head to maintain it. “I don’t give a shit that your goddamn friends can speak five languages, or understand organic chem, or any of that crap, they aren’t better than you, alright, they’re just nerds.” Steve snorts, and rolls his eyes, but there’s a grin tugging at his lips and it makes Billy smile. “Look, you play guitar, right. And you taught that dweeby little friend of yours the chords to his weird song about physics. Wouldn’t have been able to pull that off without at least a couple brain cells floating around under all that hair.” 

“I mean, that was just—”

“That was just something you’re good at. You don’t gotta be able to read Shakespeare to have smarts, you’re just smart about other shit.” 

A blush colours Steve’s cheeks. “I—thanks,” he murmurs. 

Billy doesn’t get a chance to respond.

In the front seat of his beat-up old Camaro, with snow starting to fall outside, gathering silently on the dimly illuminated windshield, Steve Harrington kisses him for the first time. He’s still holding Billy’s hand. One second he’s glancing down shyly, smiling small and crooked, the next…

His lips are soft. Gentle. He kisses like he’s asking permission, barely touching Billy at all. 

Despite the light brush of a kiss, Billy feels it everywhere, lit up with a jolt of electricity right through his chest. He chases Steve when he pulls away, with a hasty press of his mouth, kisses him again. 

And again.

His free hand comes up to cup Steve’s cheek, holding that warmth in the palm of his hand, trying to keep him close for as long as possible. Steve makes a quiet noise against his lips, and his heart clenches, his breath catching in his throat. 

They part eventually, Billy still basking in the phantom sensation of Steve’s smile pressed to his, leaving him tingling and warm. Their foreheads touch, resting together, the point of contact is grounding, the only thing stopping him from feeling like he could float away at any moment. 

“So,” Billy says after a moment, “Fair warning, I’m gonna have to start complimenting you more if that’s how you react to it.”

Steve laughs quietly. His eyes are still closed, so Billy starts counting his eyelashes.

“This some kinda fairy tale, Hargrove? I kiss you and you turn into a polite human being?” 

“Hardly. But I’ll see what I can do about the happy ending part.” 

“The Disney kind, or the massage parlor kind?”

Billy kisses Steve again, grinning. “Both, if I’m lucky.”

And he was.