#same thing as like ‘oh thought we said eat the rich’ like if you really think the only people affected are rich you are stupid 🩷 with love!!

[qivrae]

challenger - nsfw

spencer reid x afab!reader

a/n: need this real bad… spence fucking the smart out of you in the bureau bathroom

You’re exhausted but sharp. The kind of exhaustion that lives in your shoulders but doesn’t quite dull your brain. It’s the third day of a case that’s left the team running in circles—three abductions, two confirmed murders and a ticking clock no one can afford to ignore. The fluorescent lights in office hum above your head like a warning tone. You’re all gathered around the case board and Spencer is talking.

“There’s a pattern here,” he says, eyes flicking across photos and timelines like they’re just numbers on a chalkboard. “All of them were taken on a Tuesday, between 5 and 7 p.m. Each one from a public area—a park, a parking lot, a bus stop. I think the unsub’s operating in a comfort zone that’s tied to routine. He’s not escalating, he’s repeating.”

You shift your weight onto your other foot, arms crossed. “Or,” you counter, “he’s desperate and trying to regain control by mimicking his own methods. The injuries aren’t the same. Look at the restraint marks on the last victim—they’re erratic. Sloppier.”

Spencer’s head turns slightly, jaw tightening. “That could be due to external pressure. Media coverage, police presence—there are other variables.”

“Sure,” you say, voice even, “but you’re assuming external pressure. What if the pressure’s internal? What if this guy’s unraveling and trying to hold it together by copying his own process?”

Morgan leans back in his chair, muttering something like “here we go,” but you don’t look away from Spencer. He’s bristling. You can see it—subtle but there. His fingers twitch near his temple like he’s restraining the urge to rub at it.

“I’m just saying,” you add, “you’re so focused on the statistics, you’re ignoring the behavioral inconsistencies.”

“And you’re so obsessed with profiling the emotions,” Spencer says, turning toward you now, “that you’re missing the quantitative signs. You can’t draw a conclusion from three data points and call it behavioral science.” Your heart rate ticks up—not from the argument but from him. From the way his voice raises half a decibel, from the way he always assumes he’s right until you force him to consider otherwise. It’s infuriating. It’s also kind of hot. But you’d rather die than admit that.

JJ glances between the two of you with raised brows and Emily mutters under her breath, “This is getting academic.”

“No,” you say firmly, stepping toward the board and pointing at the newest photo. “This? This is him slipping. The duct tape placement here is completely different. Look at the angle—it’s hasty. Rushed.”

Spencer steps closer too, too close really but neither of you move away. “That doesn’t prove unraveling,” he replies. “It proves a change in circumstance.”

“You mean the same thing.”

“I mean exactly not the same thing.” His tone is clipped, your glare sharp. It’s quiet for a beat.

Then Hotch looks up from his tablet and says dryly, “You two. Step out, now.”

Your eyes widen just slightly, heat crawling up the back of your neck. Spencer’s brows shoot up like he didn’t expect to be reprimanded. Morgan smirks into his coffee. Emily lets out a low whistle, not even trying to hide it. “Go cool off,” Hotch adds.

You both leave the room in tense silence, walking too fast, too stiff. The door clicks shut behind you and you’re in the hallway—alone, fluorescent lights buzzing again, echoing against tile and drywall. Spencer’s breathing is tight. Controlled. “You didn’t have to challenge everything I said.”

You blink at him. “I wasn’t challenging. I was correcting.” That’s when it turns. His head tilts slightly. His voice drops low.

“You’re incapable of letting me finish a thought without interruption.”

You raise a brow. “Maybe if your thoughts weren’t so half-formed.”

“Oh, that’s rich—coming from someone who once claimed impulse control was a myth while eating licorice for breakfast.” You step into him without realizing, your shoulder brushing his chest.

“That was one time. And I stand by it.” Spencer exhales, sharp and disbelieving like you’re somehow both beneath and above him. His mouth opens like he’s about to say something but then he doesn’t.

He just looks at you. Really looks. Like he’s trying to study you, like you’re suddenly not the opponent but the hypothesis. Like he’s trying to profile you. And that’s when you both notice the door to the staff bathroom is half open. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t say a word. He just turns and walks in. And you follow.

The door clicks shut behind you and the silence is thick. Spencer’s already facing you, his expression unreadable—tense, a little breathless, like he’s not sure who’s going to make the next move. So you do. You step up until there’s barely space between your chests, your chin tilted just enough to meet his eyes. “You were saying something about impulse control?” you ask, soft and taunting. His eyes flick to your mouth, fast. Like he didn’t mean to, like it betrayed him.

“You’re impossible,” he breathes, but his voice has lost all edge.

You smile slowly. “You don’t sound like you hate me.”

Spencer exhales a shaky breath through his nose. “I don’t.” There’s no more talking.

His hands are on your face, your waist, your back—everywhere at once. His mouth crashes into yours like he’s been biting his tongue for years and now it’s all spilling out, heat and frustration and something deeper. You grab the front of his button-down, half pulling, half clawing at it, and he groans into the kiss like he’s starving. You spin him until his back hits the stall door. It creaks under the weight and he barely manages to flick the lock shut before you’re pulling at his belt. Your fingers are frantic, fumbling but he stills them with one of his own—curling over your wrist, grounding you. “Let me,” he says, low. “You’ll stretch the leather.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter but you let him. And when he works it open with those long, practiced fingers, you barely notice that your back is now pressed to the wall, cold tile seeping through your clothes. Then Spencer drops to his knees. You gasp. “What are you—”

“Don’t stop,” he murmurs, eyes flicking up as his hands move to the waistband of your pants. “You’re always so good at talking back. Keep going.” You open your mouth to say something smart, something biting—but all that comes out is a breathy moan as he pulls your pants down your legs with precision, lips brushing your thigh on the way. His mouth is warm. Skilled. Unrelenting.

You slap a hand over your own mouth, back arching, one leg trembling against his shoulder as he holds it steady. His fingers dig into your thigh, hard enough to leave bruises. And when his eyes flutter shut, he moans like this is about him, like you’re his favorite meal and he’s been starving for weeks. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging hard and he groans again—like praise. “God,” you pant. “I—I should’ve—”

“I know,” he whispers against your skin. “You should’ve argued with me earlier.” You let out a shaky laugh. He smiles, going back down. You slap a hand against the tile behind you, the other gripping his hair like a lifeline.

“Fuck—Spencer—” His hands grip your thighs, spreading you just enough, holding you steady as his tongue laps slow, then firm, then teasing again. He shifts a little, then locks eyes with you as he seals his mouth around your clit and sucks.

Your head knocks against the wall. You bite down on a moan so hard your lip might bleed. He doesn’t stop. If anything, the sounds you make just fuel him. He’s greedy with it—licking like you’re a problem he’s solving, a theory he’s proving, something he won’t give up on until you’re falling apart in his hands. One of your legs starts trembling.

“Spencer—God.” your voice breaks as your hips buck against him. He groans again, mouth dragging slow and wet over you, nose brushing where you’re most sensitive. His grip tightens. You can barely stay upright. And just when you think you’re about to come—he pulls back. You whimper, flushed and panting and glare down at him.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, lips glossy and red, smirking like the bastard he is. “You’re not getting off that easy,” he says, low and smug. You barely have time to curse him before he stands, kisses you rough and lifts you back into his arms like he never left his knees at all.

He kisses you hard—sloppy and eager, like he can’t decide whether to savor you or consume you whole. His tongue finds yours, tasting the echo of you still lingering on his lips, and you moan into his mouth because god, he’s not playing fair. You barely register the way he lifts you until you feel the cold counter under your ass. His hands are firm on your thighs, dragging you forward until your legs are bracketing his hips. The friction makes you gasp. Your shirt’s still on but your bra is shoved up, his button-up hanging open, his belt clinking with every shift. It’s messy and loud and rushed but the tension between you has been simmering for months—this was never going to be slow.

“You still think you’re smarter than me?” he growls against your neck, nipping hard enough to leave a mark. “Still think you can walk around acting like you know better?”

You choke out a laugh, tilting your head to give him more access. “I am smarter than you.” He bites down harder. You yelp but it turns into a moan as he lines himself up, pushes in—slow, deep—you both gasp. “This is so,” you whisper, breath caught in your throat, “so inappropriate.”

He grins, eyes wild. “Technically we’re on a mandated break.”

The thrusts start slow. Deliberate. Like he’s memorizing the feel of you, like he wants to make this last longer than he knows it can. Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging in and his breath stutters when you bite down on his jaw. “You’re so—” he groans, “God, you’re insufferable.”

“You love it,” you whisper.

He replied without hesitation, “I really do.” It’s a rhythm then. Heated, sloppy, completely unprofessional. You both know someone could walk in. That there are voices in the hallway, that the lock isn’t strong—but none of it matters. Not when he’s like this. Not when you’re like this. And not when every thrust makes the wall groan behind you. “Oh my—fuck, Spencer.”

“Say it again,” he grits out, hips snapping into you. “Say you’re smarter.”

You’re breathless, half-laughing through the haze of it all. “You—fuck— need me to stroke your ego that bad?”

He slams into you harder in response. “Need you to shut up before someone hears you.”

“I don’t think you care if they do.”

He doesn’t deny it. His hand snakes up between your bodies, thumb dragging over your clit in tight, perfect circles. You jolt in his grip, hands flying to his hair, your thighs trembling where they’re locked around him. It’s dizzying, relentless, the heat curling low in your stomach growing unbearable. And just when you’re sure you’re about to unravel again—he pulls out.

You blink, dazed. “Huh—?”

He turns you around before you can catch your breath, bending you over the counter. His hand flattens between your shoulder blades, holding you there as he kicks your feet apart and sinks back in from behind. You can see yourself in the mirror. You cry out at the stretch, fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth surface.

He’s fucking you now—deep and fast, every thrust knocking the breath out of you, every slap of skin against skin echoing loud in the small bathroom. His hand slips around, rubbing your clit again in sync with his thrusts, you see stars.

“Spencer—” Your voice is shaking, half-strangled with need as he pounds into you from behind, every slap of his hips sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your hands are braced on the counter, knuckles white but it’s not enough to keep you steady. Not with the way he’s fucking you like he’s got something to prove. And maybe he does. Maybe this is him trying to one-up you in the one arena where he knows he doesn’t have to compete��because you’re already falling apart under him. But he doesn’t let you go over that edge. Not yet.

“What’s wrong?” he breathes low and smug. “You were so confident before and now you can’t form a sentence? Thought you had all the answers.”

You jerk your body up to meet him, head spinning, breath coming in sharp gasps. “Shut up,” you bite out, muscles tightening as you force out a laugh, defiant even as his dick keeps dragging that perfect angle.

“Don’t want to hear me talk, huh?” he mocks. “But you can’t help but listen, can you?”

You try to move your hands but his grip is too tight, fingers digging into your wrists as his pace quickens. His thumb slips under your chin, lifting your face just enough for him to look at you with that insufferable smugness, his own arousal written all over his features.

“Are you really going to argue with me now?” he mutters, voice thick with want but still that level of condescension. “Because last I checked, your body’s telling me everything I need to know.”

“Fuck you,” you manage to snap, even as he angles his hips to hit deeper and it knocks the breath out of you. You almost choke on your words. He doesn’t let up. Instead, he pulls your hair just hard enough that your head tilts back and your throat is exposed.

“You’re dripping for me and you want to tell me you hate me?”

You don’t even know why you answer but you do. “Yeah, I fucking do. I hate you.”

“You don’t,” he mutters, tugging on your hair again, forcing you to look him in the eye. “You can’t hate me when your pussy’s telling me otherwise.” Your jaw clenches, a frustrated growl escaping your lips. You’re so fucking close but he’s pulling back just enough that you can’t come. He’s in control now. He’s always in control. And you hate it. Spencer leans in, his breath brushing against your ear. “I know what you want. Don’t act like you’re not dying for it.” He shifts again and suddenly you feel his fingers slide into your mouth—uninvited but not unwelcome. It’s messy as you suck on his fingers, the taste of him coating your tongue but the position he has you in—helpless, needy, at his mercy—makes it hard to care.

“Still hate me?” he asks again, the words almost teasing.

“I’m so close,” you breathe, and your voice is breaking. “Just let me—”

“You need to ask for it, don’t you?” He pulls his fingers from your mouth, wiping them on your cheek as he watches you, his mouth falls open slightly. “You can’t finish without me telling you to.”

“Let me,” you almost whimper, your body shaking, on the edge of something. “Please. Please.” He grins like he’s won, his grip on your wrists loosening just enough.

“You’ve got such a dirty mouth, I kind of like it,” he mutters, then he finally lets go, his fingers back at your throat, not quite choking, just keeping you where he wants you. “You don’t get to finish just because you ask,” he says, thrusting hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “Not yet.”

It’s a mix of sweet relief and pure frustration, your body writhing under him. Every angle is perfect, every inch of him dragging you closer to something you can’t control. He’s fucking you through your angry little comments, through the way you fight him even as you beg for more. Spencer leans in to bite at your neck, growling in your ear as he pulls your hair again, tighter this time.

“God, you’re so fucking stubborn,” he hisses and suddenly, he’s fucking you harder, faster, like he’s punishing you for every dumb word you’ve ever said to him.

“I hate you,” you gasp, hands desperately trying to grip anything to steady yourself but it’s futile. He’s the one in control and you’re too far gone to care about anything else. But when his hand snakes back between your legs, fingers finding your clit with practiced precision, you lose it. You’re falling apart and you don’t care that you’re still supposed to hate him. You don’t care that you’re both too stubborn to admit it.

“Don’t come yet,” he growls. “Not until I say so.” You bite back a scream, his voice still ringing in your ears.

“Fuck, Spencer.” His grip tightens again, fingers digging in and you know he’s close too. He’s holding you, using you and in this moment, you have no power. And you fucking love it.

You don’t know if you ever hated anyone this much. You don’t know if you ever wanted anyone more. Spencer’s breathing is shallow now, hot against the back of your neck as he drives into you from behind, both of you falling apart together—his hand spread over your lower stomach to keep you from moving, his other hand tangled tight in your hair.

“Jesus, you feel so good like this,” he groans, low and rough. “So fucking wet. You gonna come for me now?” You barely manage a response—something choked and shaky, some version of his name that sounds like begging. Your face is red, mouth parted, flushed and panting and he doesn’t slow down. He wants to ruin you. “See?” he murmurs, his voice shaking with effort but his mouth still so fucking smug. “I knew all that attitude was just overcompensation. You were dying for this.” You shake your head weakly, more from the overwhelming heat and pressure than actual disagreement.

“You don’t even know what you’re saying anymore,” he says, thrusting deeper, harder, one hand sliding up your body. “Just so cock-drunk.”

“Fuck you,” you breathe but it comes out weak. Your legs are trembling, fingers scraping against the counter, mind clouded by nothing but the pace of his thrusts and the filthy rhythm of his voice in your ear.

“Mm. You are.” His lips brush the edge of your jaw, voice dark and breathless. “You’re so fucking close, I can feel it. You’re pulsing around me. You wanna come, sweetheart?” Your head nods instinctively, a small sound tumbling from your lips. “You need it, don’t you?” he keeps going, fucking into you like he’s trying to mark his territory, like he wants to fuck the fight right out of you. “You’ve been giving me shit for months and now you’re so dumb on my dick you can’t even talk.”

You’d hit him if your arms weren’t shaking. You’d argue—tell him to shut up, tell him he’s full of shit—but all that leaves you is a needy, whimpering sound. “Come on,” he mutters, his hand sliding down to your clit again, rubbing rough, desperate circles. “Come for me. You want to.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re unraveling, your body arching back into his, a sharp cry caught in your throat. Your orgasm hits you hard, hot and fast and blinding and you’re squeezing around him so tight it forces a moan from his chest. “Fuck, just like that,” he groans, slamming into you once, twice more before he follows, burying himself deep as he spills inside you, panting through clenched teeth, his fingers bruising your hips as he holds you still.

The only sounds for a few seconds are ragged breathing, your heart pounding, and the faint, distant hum of a case still happening outside that locked bathroom door. Then he slumps forward slightly, letting go of your hips and leaning his forehead against your shoulder.

“Well,” he breathes, hoarse and wrecked. “That escalated.” You don’t say anything for a moment—still catching your breath, still trying to convince your legs to hold you up.

And then you mutter, “I still think your theory was bullshit.”

Spencer lets out a laugh, soft and disbelieving. “Jesus Christ.” His hands are still on you. You don’t move. Neither of you do. Because as much as you hate each other, neither of you wants to stop touching. It takes a moment before either of you move again.

You’re still pressed up against the counter, legs shaking, heartbeat trying to slow down, when Spencer finally steps back. He’s quiet about it, gentle even, his hands catching your waist like he’s afraid you might tip over. You tug your pants back up, spine still curved, bracing yourself with one hand against the counter. He fixes his pants with shaking fingers, running a hand through his hair like it’ll make any difference. It doesn’t.

You glance over your shoulder, your voice still raw when you say, “You’ve got a scratch on your neck.”

He gives you a look—half amusement, half disbelief. “From you.”

“You were asking for it.”

He huffs. Rolls his eyes. Tries not to smile but fails anyway. You grab some paper towels to clean up, stealing glances in the mirror over the sink. Your mascara’s slightly smudged, your lips kiss-bitten. He’s worse—hair mussed, lips swollen, eyes a little too glassy.

“We look insane,” you mutter.

“We look like we just had sex in the Bureau bathroom,” he says flatly.

“Same thing.”

He catches your eye in the mirror. For a second, it’s awkward. Just enough for the realization to hit—you just fucked Spencer Reid. During work. In the middle of a case. He clears his throat, straightens his tie like that’ll fix anything. “We should get back.” You blink at him. “You think we’re not gonna get ripped to shreds the second we walk in there?”

He shrugs. “We’re both excellent profilers. We’ll gaslight them.”

You smirk despite yourself. “You’re the most unhinged person I’ve ever met.”

“And you’re the most competitive person I’ve ever had sex with.”

You tilt your head. “That wasn’t a competition.”

“It was absolutely a competition.” He opens the door first, checking the hallway. When it’s clear, you both step out like two spies post-mission—subtle, casual or at least trying to be. The bullpen is busy again, everyone preoccupied.

You walk in together, acting natural and you swear no one’s paying attention—until Morgan looks up from his desk with a slow, knowing grin. “Ten bucks says I’m right,” he mutters to JJ, who groans and rolls her eyes.

“Children,” Hotch calls from across the room, not even looking up from his file. “Back to work.” You slip into your chair. Spencer sits beside you, flipping open the nearest file like nothing happened. And maybe nothing did—except now you know exactly how good he sounds when he falls apart for you and he knows exactly what you look like when you’re coming on his cock.

You cross your legs under the desk and he glances at you sideways. You don’t speak. But the tension’s not gone. It’s just different now. And you’re not done fighting yet.

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[sinnabarmoth]

Petty Bestie

Pairing: Sylus x Fem|Reader

Prompt: You and Sylus get in a stupid fight before a big party. Sylus thinks that everything is fine until you start referring to him exclusively as "bestie" the entire evening.

Content warnings: For the lols.

Word Count: 1600

When you start dating someone you seem to learn something new about them every day. In the short time that Sylus had started dating you he learned new things too. He learned that you liked sour candy but not lemons, you read really fast but it took forever for you to actually pick up a book, you liked baking but weren’t the best cook, and you had a bad habit of leaving your clothes on the floor.

Now, Sylus didn’t usually mind when you left clothes lying around, he was guilty of just dropping something when he was tired and not picking it up till later. But your little trails of clothes as you moved from bedroom to bathroom to closet started to annoy him, especially when he wasn’t paying attention and slipped on a t-shirt. What had started as an innocent discussion about putting your clothes in the hamper where they belonged took a wild left turn into a screaming match about annoying habits the other person had.

You were going back and forth for a while until the alarm Sylus set to remind you about the gala went off. That was right. This all started because you had left a trail of clothes in your wake while getting ready for the event. Any other time when you were this pissed Sylus would just skip it but it was a rather big party and if he didn’t show up it was going to cause issues.

So you put a pin in the argument and begrudgingly finished getting ready before heading out. Little did Sylus know that he was going to learn something new about you tonight. When you were mad you got petty.

Sylus could tell you were still mad as you pulled up to the event and to try and make the night go more smoothly he grasped your hand in his. “I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier.” he said. “I’m sorry. Can we try and enjoy the rest of our night?”

You pulled your gaze from staring out the window to look at him. You studied him for a moment before a smile slowly inched across your face. “Of course.”

The fact that you agreed so readily should have been his first warning that this night was going to be anything but smooth.

When you walked in you hadn’t taken his arm as you usually did and Sylus decided that it was because you were still a bit mad and didn’t push it. He hovered close by your side as you walked around the venue, grabbing a couple flutes of champagne, and taking in the opulent decor.

Then there was the first person that approached you as you were walking around, some rich someone or another that had connections Sylus needed to maintain. He went through the usual pleasantries and exchanged a few words before the man noticed you hovering a bit behind Sylus.

“Apologies,” the man said, drawing you into the conversation, “Who might you be?”

“Hello,” you beamed, “I’m a friend of Sylus’s.”

Sylus blinked, thinking maybe you were acting coy but he couldn’t imagine why.

“Well, a friend of Sylus is a friend of mine.” the man exclaimed heartily, “How do you know him? How good of friends would you say you are?”

“Oh, we met a while ago at a work thing and I’d say that I’m probably his best friend.” you shot a look at Sylus, shit-eating grin plastered on your face. “We’re besties, aren’t we?”

Oh. So this was your game. Introducing yourself as his friend instead of his girlfriend. Fine. Let you have your petty little revenge, you were still leaving with him at the end of the night.

So the night went and everyone that came up to you and Sylus would say hello and introduce themselves and when they asked after you the answer was always the same.

“So, are you two here together?” some older woman asked, assessing you and Sylus with a matchmaker’s eye.

“No. We’re here as besties.” you said in that sickly sweet voice. “The very best of friends.”

“Oh, sorry to misinterpret. I had thought that two such good looking young people must have been together. My mistake.” the older woman leaned in conspiratorially towards you. “If you aren’t dating anyone I have a grandson about your age, very successful and handsome, I’d love to introduce him to such a sweet and pretty girl.”

“You are too kind, grandmother.” you said.

“Unfortunately she is already seeing someone.” Sylus piped in, unable to help it. “And if I know her boyfriend at all he is a very possessive man. He also has a bit of a temper and while he is very patient there are limits. If she hasn’t learned that yet I’m sure she will soon if her boyfriend catches wind of this.”

“I see.” the older woman said, “And this boyfriend is not at all jealous of you coming here with another man?”

“No, grandmother. Like I said, we’re only here as besties.” you sent another bright smile at Sylus. “Besides, my boyfriend would have come with me but we had a fight before the event so the man I love was left back at home. Maybe I’ll see him after the event but I don’t know, it all depends on how I’m feeling at the end of the night.”

“Okay.” the woman smiled awkwardly, “Have a nice rest of your evening you two.”

“Thank you. You as well.” you waved to her as she left. You turned back to Sylus, scrunched your nose a little, and walked away.

He took in a deep breath and turned to follow you. You were going to pay for this later, but he was going to remain calm for now. It didn’t matter that you were trying to push his buttons, he’d have you begging for forgiveness in five different ways later. But then again, why wait till later?

He followed you as you met someone else and began to introduce yourself. When they noticed Sylus standing behind you, you launched into your silly petty form of revenge again. “And this is my bestie, Sylus.” you said. That voice you were putting on specifically for that word felt like sandpaper against his ears.

The people you were talking to looked perplexed for a moment, obviously not expecting you to say that of all things.

“That is right.” Sylus said, patting your head, “My bestie.” the word felt strange on his tongue.

“Oh, I thought perhaps you two were here together.” one of the people said. “We had heard rumors that you started seeing someone.”

“That is correct but my sweet girlfriend isn’t here tonight.” he answered. “So I have my friend here instead. Such a shame too because my partner is such a kind and beautiful woman that wouldn't dream of embarrassing me at a function as important as this.”

“Maybe you don't know your girlfriend as well as you think if you believe she doesn't have any bite to her.” You responded with a tight smile.

“Oh no, I know she has bite. But I guess I did not expect her to be so petty. Especially when I tried to broker some peace.”

“Maybe you shouldn't have yelled at her over such a little issue.”

“Maybe she shouldn't leave her clothes laying around where people can slip on them.”

“Maybe you should get your snoring checked out cause sleeping next to you is like sleeping next to an engine turbine.”

His eye twitched. “I don't snore.” he said, his voice tight with control.

“Yes, you do.” you stared back at him, your face scrunched in anger.

You hadn't realized but as you were going back and forth the people you were talking to had slowly edged away. Sylus looked up, noticing that you had been abandoned and sighed. “I think it is about time we go.” He said.

“Agreed.” You muttered.

You didn’t bother with farewells. If it hadn't been obvious that you and Sylus were feuding before it was bow. And no one with any sense wanted to get in the middle of that. You waited outside for the car to be pulled around. Rain poured down and you were standing at least three feet away from Sylus.

He sighed. He didn’t want to end the night like this. He slid closer to you. “Sweetie, you're shaking.”

“Yeah. It's cold.” You muttered, keeping your head turned away from him.

He took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. “I'm sorry about getting mad earlier, I shouldn't have yelled.”

The fight in you fizzled out and you sighed, pulling his coat closer in around you. “I'm sorry for leaving my clothes everywhere and that you slipped on them.”

“And for calling me ‘bestie’ all night?” He prompted.

You snorted. “No, you deserved that. Besides, is being my best friend such a bad thing?”

“Of course not, but it only encompasses such a small part of our relationship. I love nothing more than showing off my girlfriend as my girlfriend.” he held an arm out and you stepped into him. He held you against his chest, breathing easily for the first time all night. “Isn’t this better?”

“Yeah.” you sighed. “I’ll try to better about putting my clothes away properly.”

“Thank you. I promise not to get mad and yell at you again.”

“And?” you looked at him expectantly.

“And what?”

“This is the part where you say you’ll look into getting your snoring checked.”

“I do not snore!”

“Yes! You do!”

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

First date at McDonald's

Character: Thanos X fem!reader

Summary: Thanos takes you on a "first date" at McDonald's

Warnings: none🦑🦑

It was supposed to be a simple date. A typical first date where you both get to know each other outside the chaos of the game. But with Thanos, or rather Choi Su-Bong, it was always a little more… unconventional.

You stepped into the brightly lit McDonald's, the scent of fries and burgers filling the air. Thanos had insisted on coming here, despite you trying to suggest somewhere fancier. He had a way of making even the simplest places seem grand, and tonight, this fast food joint was no exception.

“You really want to eat here?” you asked, glancing around at the brightly colored décor. Thanos only nodded, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.

“There’s something about McDonald’s,” he said, sliding into a booth. “It’s simple, but comforting. Plus, I haven’t had a proper meal like this in a while.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his reasoning. There was something oddly charming about how he took the mundane and made it seem significant. You slid into the booth across from him, the booth itself much smaller than his broad frame, making him look even more imposing.

“So, what are we ordering?” you asked, leaning back and casually scanning the menu above the counter.

“Anything you want,” he said. “I’m paying tonight.”

You chuckled, finding comfort in the way he was so direct. It felt real. “Alright, I’ll have a Big Mac with fries,” you said, smiling when his eyes lit up at the mention of fries.

“Same,” Thanos said simply, “and a Coke. Can’t go wrong with the classics.

”After placing your order, you sat back and exchanged some small talk, laughing about little things. Thanos was surprisingly witty, often making lighthearted comments that broke the ice between you two. The tension from the game still lingered in his eyes, but here, in this ordinary place, you could see another side of him—soft, almost normal.

“Tell me something,” you said, leaning forward a little. “What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve done recently?”

He paused, looking thoughtful. “Let’s see… Oh, I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how to use a self-order kiosk,” he admitted with a smirk. “I thought it was broken at first, but it turns out I just didn’t know how to use the touch screen properly.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You? The mastermind of the game, struggling with a touchscreen? That’s rich.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in not knowing how to order fries,” he said, his deep voice a mixture of amusement and mock offense.

Just as the conversation turned back to something else, the food arrived—steaming, greasy, and utterly perfect for the moment. Thanos looked at the tray, then at you, before saying, “You know, some things are better enjoyed in the simplest ways.”

You took a bite of your Big Mac, nodding in agreement. “I think I’m starting to see what you mean.”

For the rest of the night, you two chatted about life, the game, and everything in between. You learned that, despite the exterior of the tough, ruthless player, Thanos was just as human as anyone. A little lost, a little uncertain, but still searching for something. Even if that something was a quiet dinner at McDonald's.

As the meal came to a close, Thanos leaned back in his seat, his hand resting on the edge of the table, a quiet, content smile on his face.

“Next time,” he said softly, “I’ll take you somewhere you really want to go.”

You smiled, not needing anything fancy. “I think this was perfect.”

And for that one evening, you both forgot about the rest of the world, lost in a small moment that felt like home.

🦑🦑🦑

[chiipay]

What if.. celebrating Christmas with Kaiser alongside his birthday? (Fluff)

Ohh cool idea. Ty (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) I'll do my best to make a scenario that fit your imagination (⁠人⁠��⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠). Also forgive me because my country is a tropical country- we don't have Christmas here.. so idk much about Christmas Day.

Snowy days- MICHAEL KAISER.

24th December

It's Christmas. Fucking Christmas. Oh how much Kaiser hates to be reminded of the day he was born. But he couldn't express it to you because well he didn't want to get slapped on Christmas day because he pissed you off. He decided to just let it slide hopefully Christmas would just go along without bothering him.

" Kaiser. Wake up. It's freezing here. Help me up with setting presents for the players. I'll give yours later for the day."

You were just moving stuff around Kaiser so called 'penthouse'. Hie place looks gloomy and empty- tf he did here? Just laying around? You shaken every bad thought of him deciding which present suites for every bastard munchen players-

"... dang-this is harder than i thought.." you mutter- thinking hard on the presents.

This is the first time you celebrate Christmas with Michael kaiser and you had no idea how to plan things out. You rought a few items to become presents for bastard munchen players- but you don't spend a single penny in your bank...it was Kaiser's.

'he insisted on using his credit card only- rich people phase ig..'

Your thoughts got distracted by Kaiser leaning his body on you from behind. He let out a long sigh while resting his head on your shoulder, eyes glancing at the sight of items you brought earlier.

Kaiser looks at some items and picks up one of them and he chooses...a perfume.

'...wtf. wtf is this?'

Kaiser holds the perfume bottle for a minute before scrunching his nose up making a disgusted expression. He tightened his grip on your stomach making you look towards the same direction as he is.

"..what?"

" who the hell did you bought a perfume for? My whole teammates are freaking male. They have male anatomy. Tf is this for?"

Kaiser brings the perfume closer to your face as you just look at it for a sec before returning your attention to him.

" oh- i thought it would be good to give it to grim. Y'know? Just some vibe- I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

You said nonchalantly not really finding what's wrong with giving a perfume to a guy. Kaiser gave you a weird look before just putting the bottle down and would just bury his head deeper into your hair, sniffing your scent.

'Nasty.' you think.

----------___________-----------_________

25th December.

" Michael- wake up... it's Christmas.."

Michael kaiser groaned in his sleep before slowly opening his eyes. A glimpse of his mother came to his blurry vision just for it to get more clearer it was you. His eyes twitched a bit when his vision was getting more clear but soon turned into a softened gaze.

"..heyy..you awake now? It's Christmas..and happy birthday micha."

'micha..' you didn't always call kaiser by a nickname because of how you didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He never really cared about it. Mostly he would often ignored you whenever you called him that...but somehow he couldn't resist how smooth when he got called like that by you.

"....merry Christmas i fucking guess." He hushed in his low voice.

He sat up on his bed and then slowly looked at you while you prepare him breakfast in bed. He blankly looks at you while you prepare for it. When you were done he slowly ate his breakfast in front of you while you watched him eat it motionlessly.

"...why did you suddenly make me breakfast in bed today? You've never done this before."

" dang- forgave me for acting nice then. It's your birthday so why not? If this was another normal day i would have just forced you to do your own meal."

Kaiser didn't respond but continued to eat repeatedly. He was in deep thoughts...-you think. You didn't want your morning with kaiser to end up being an awkward morning so you try to change the atmosphere.

"uh- do you want a present? I already got something for you..?"

" present?"

Kaiser hates presents. He couldn't react properly when he got one. He hates it if he can't react properly would you be upset with him? Would you hate him for that? Would you actually leav-

".. having you is already like having a hellish present. Why should i get another one?"

His words actually came out opposite of what he is thinking. But even so he didn't want a present. Having you is already like a present he got from fate. He's more surprised that his 'present' is still with him and wasn't broken at all.

" oh-uhh thank you?..." You had no idea if that's a compliment or not but sounds pretty sweet to you..?

The tips of your ears went red making kaiser grin at your reaction-

' jackpot.'

"alright then, here's my present for you, meine einzige Frau~"

He leans closer to you making you started and backing backwards but Kaiser already trapped you before he gates his mouth on yours.

[hypewinter]

Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-

"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.

"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.

Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"

"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."

It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.

"Wait. You're not angry?"

Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."

Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."

For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.

"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.

Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"

Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.

It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"

"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."

After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.

Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."

Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.

"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.

"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.

Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"

"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.

Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.

Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."

All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.

Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."

Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?

Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."

The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"

I told y'all I'd do it myself if I had to.

[pirateunderapineapple]

Agathario Ao3 FanFic Recommendation Post

IT IS HERE, IT IS QUEER!

Okay so, I'm trying to gather all of the fics that i have either bookmarked ( so multichapters that i'm following ), and also i'll be going through my ao3 history (oh it's a dark place) to check for either completed works or oneshots etc. They will not be in order of how much I recommend them obv, just in random (except for a couple that you must read or i'll stab you). I haven't found the authors on tumblr but if anyone knows them feel free to tag them, I want all them to know how much i love them hehe This is how it's gonna go: I'll leave you the name of the fic and the author, their summary of the fic and maybe a personal comment, sounds good? Disclaimer: these are fics that i have read and enjoyed so i would like to recommend to other fans as well. If anyone has any other recommendations feel free to add them to the list, i think everyone will appreciate it, myself included! OKAY HERE WE GO

-MULTICHAPTER-

Unraveled by EchoesInTheMargins Summary: The thought of being with a woman had once seemed impossible to Agatha Harkness—a door locked tightly and never to be opened. After all, she was 48 years old, for Christ’s sake.

Then, without so much as a warning, Rio Vidal, a first-year associate, strode into her perfectly controlled life and blew Agatha’s closet door off its damn hinges.

PC: I mean, I trust that everyone knows this one by now and I don't even need to recommend it but just in case! THIS IS A MASTERPIECE! The epilogue was just posted and honestly I can't even describe how I feel about this fic. I would wake up for uni at 7 in the morning and the first thing I did was check if there was an update. How to not keep a secret by disaster_top Summary: Agatha liked to keep her work and personal life separate, which was why even a decade into working as a detective her coworkers had yet to know who she was married to. And unfortunately, her wife had no interest in keeping things that way.

PC: every chapter in this one is kinda like an oneshot, but same universe etc. I really, really love their freaky dynamic ( they're the definition of they much eachothers freak) in this one and I strongly reccommend it!

It’s Bloody and Raw (But I Swear it is Sweet) by Adimnos

Summary: “I don’t believe you. You prefer me—“

“Compliant?” Rio stood slowly, her eyes never leaving Agatha’s face. The action put her inches away, her body heat radiating out, searing Agatha’s skin. “Obedient?”

Agatha’s hips shifted against her will, her lips parting slightly. She closed her eyes against the heady mortification that razed through her chest. She felt Rio move closer and she parted her legs without thought.

Rio stepped between them but didn’t touch, hands settling on the desk inches from Agatha’s hips and hands.

“You always were such a brat.” Rio’s breath was hot against Agatha’s ear, her voice throaty and raw and filthy. “You never knew how to do what you were told.”

Or: After five years away, a still-grieving Agatha is dragged back into the FBI and the arms of her ex-wife. PC: this is art, it's just sto intense, so well written. pure, pure art. i'm thrilled whenever there's a new chapter

Sugar and Honey by visadero Summary: “No way,” Rio said, crossing her arms defensively. “Good for you, get that bag, but I’ll figure something else out.”

Jen’s laughter bubbled up, bright and teasing. “Sweetheart, you’re so sheltered. These women aren’t crusty old grandmas in rocking chairs. They’re powerful, rich, and they smell like Chanel, not mothballs. Some of them are absolutely stunning.” She tilted her head, studying Rio as if sizing her up for auction. “You’d clean up if you stopped being so stubborn. They’d eat you alive—and pay you for the privilege.”

OR: Struggling bartender Rio stumbles into a sugar baby situation with CEO Agatha Harkness. She can't figure out what the woman wants from her, or why she's letting herself go along with it. PC: I really loved this one and I have to add that this fic is actually part of a series, the second work being Honey and Wine , which is basically Agatha's POV i think (sugar and honey is Rio's POV). I haven't got around to reading the second work cause i wanted some time to have passed so as to not remember every detail of the fic. I think i'll be reading it in the next few days tho so can't wait!!

death's doorstep by villhag Summary: One day, Wanda’s spell fades, and Agatha Harkness is awake again.

Pissed off and powerless, she casts a spell to take her somewhere, anywhere but Westview—and it takes her to the last place she wants to be.

Death’s doorstep. -- Agatha and her ex-girlfriend, Death, have a very tumultuous sleepover in Hell. PC: the ending we deserved, thank you author

A Kingdom by the Night by visadero Summary: “You’re early,” Agatha managed, feigning a flicker of annoyance, though her pulse quickened. "I missed you.” The words were simple, almost soft. Her dark gaze held Agatha’s, steady and unyielding. "Agatha huffed, “Is that so?” She turned away, trying to mask the slight flush rising to her cheeks. "I’d think the Queen of Shadows wouldn’t be so sentimental.” The woman’s lips curved ever so slightly as she closed the distance between them. “Think what you want. But here you are." / or : Hadestown came on shuffle, thought about the Hades/Persephone Rio/Agatha parallels and things spiraled wildly out of control PC: this one had me reaaaaally invested

Something Wicked by motherconfessor Summary: While an apprentice witch, Agatha grows frustrated when she's not permitted to learn magic.

Until someone makes her an offer that she can't refuse PC: love, LOVE, LOVE

You'd have to stop the world by Echolux Summary: In the events leading up to Jen and Alice’s wedding, their respective best friends Agatha and Rio have to work together despite their… creative differences.

Oh, and then there’s this: Rio doesn’t fall for straight women. Agatha's not a lesbian. And one of them is lying. PC: This one was one of my recent discoveries and I wish I hadn't gone through it so fast. I appreciated so much the way this author approached the characters and their relationship, it was so pure.

The Ethics of Attraction by Sunshinesongbird Summary: Agatha Harkness prides herself on being a no-nonsense ethics professor, keeping students in line with sharp lectures and sharper looks. But when Rio Vidal—brilliant, sarcastic, and infuriatingly captivating—decides to test those boundaries, Agatha finds herself facing dilemmas that have nothing to do with her syllabus. As playful banter gives way to undeniable attraction, the two must navigate the fine line between rules and reckless abandon. In this classroom, the lessons go far beyond ethics.

THEY ARE BOTH CONSENTING ADULTS THIS IS A DOCTORATE PROGRAM NOT UNDERGRAD THANK YOU!

PC: hehe loving these dynamics

you'll just have to taste me (when she's kissin' you) by agatharioluvr Summary: "You alright, buddy?" She asked, and Nicholas stared up at her, star-struck. "Sorry about that." "It's alright, I caught it before it could hit me!"

Agatha stared at her in disbelief - seeing Rio right in front of her, a little sweaty and breathless; it was unbelievably attractive. Rio looked over at her, smiling that fucking smile of hers, before turning back to Nicholas.

"Well done, little man." She laughed and ruffled his hair a little as he smiled up at her. "I like the jersey - you keep the ball, we've got plenty more."

With that, Rio nodded a farewell to Nicholas and ran back onto the court, signalling for the assistant coach to grab a new ball to use. Nicholas held his new gift to his chest tightly, squealing with delight at the fact that he'd just talked to his favourite player of all time.

OR, Agatha's son idolises a certain star basketball player, Rio Vidal - and maybe she does too...

PC: I actually recently discovered this and read it all in one sitting. Honestly, I think i'm digging the athlete!rio fics a little too much!!

The Green Witch by MickeyJrWrites Summary: Agatha takes her kid to a market where he instantly becomes attached to the sweetest farmer, Rio Vidal. It's a romcom involving carrots and celery. PC: Just cuteness overload and rio calling nicky papito like IM DYING

honey come put your lips on mine (and shut me up) by tinyteamug Summary: “Do not,” Agatha said to herself from her spot in the media booth, “you absolutely do not need to defend your honor against-”

Rio dropped her gloves.

“God fucking damn it.”

The Sharks’ forward had barely gotten her own gloves off before Rio’s fist connected with her jaw. The crowd erupted.

“I am going to kill her,” Agatha announced to no one in particular, already mentally drafting press releases. “Should’ve kept managing curling teams. Nobody ever gets punched in curling.”

OR: Gently feral hockey star Rio and long-suffering publicist Agatha who definitely doesn’t get paid enough for this shit PC: Like i said, athlete!rio is my thing...

break me, shake me, devastate me by saturnreturn Summary: Rio, owner of Westview’s local floral shop “Wisterical,” finds herself with an early Christmas present when her hag of a landlord, Evanora Harkness, keels over. With the biggest pain in her side gone, she’s expecting a relatively stress-free life from here on out.

That is, until the daughter. PC: This doesn't have many chapters yet but i think it's really got great potential!!

hand in unlovable hand by villhag Summary: “You know, it’s kind of illegal to drink here. School property and all.”

It might as well have been the voice of God. The quip came from above; Agatha seeing her shoes before she saw the rest of her. White Nikes, splotched with dirt and grass. Ribbed socks pulled all the way up over gray sweatpants. A dark green sweatshirt. Salem Elementary Soccer embroidered on the front. All culminating with a tan neck, jet-black hair, and a very annoying—should she say condescending—smirk.

Someone had been stupid enough to encroach on Agatha Harkness’s domain. -- Agatha is a widely-despised soccer mom. Rio Vidal is Salem Elementary’s new coach.

Chaos ensues.

PC: same as the previous one honestly

Time Warp by 324b2fun Summary: When Agatha signs on to do a long-awaited sequel to one of her beloved movies, she thinks it'll be an easy check and a chance to reminisce on her youth. Little does she realize her past has come back to bite her in the ass, primarily in the form of one Rio Vidal. PC: I love this fic and especially the flashback chapters

Rage, Rage Against the Dying of the Light by motherconfessor Summary: “Lucky gal,” Agnes said. “The only way––” and she tried to say Ralph. That had been his name, hadn’t it? The idiot of a man whose house she’d taken over. Instead, what came out, tugged by the spell was, “Rio would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named June 2nd.” - When Wanda's spellwork traps another person in its bindings, Agatha makes a deal that all she needs is seven days to get what she wants.

But seven days is a long time to be stuck in a PG-13 sitcom. PC: agathario in wandavision universe just hits different

-LESS CHAPTERS/ONESHOTS-

anything, and I mean ANYTHING from this author : 324b2fun THEY ARE DOING GOD'S WORK periodt also like, usually when i like a fic i go and check the author's other works so i recommend you do the same

creator, you destroy me by velvetprayer Summary: Time, suddenly, means the moments in between her. PC: there is no need for introductions here i think... this fic was what gotta us all through the finale and i don't even have words to express my gratitude to the author.

i bite my tongue, it's a bad habit by tinyteamug

Summary: In the week since the bonfire incident (which she was absolutely not thinking about), she’d run into Rio approximately seventeen times.

Not that she was counting.

There was Tuesday, when Agatha had taken Nicholas to his first surf lesson. Rio had been teaching the advanced class, wetsuit clinging to her like a second skin, and Agatha had absolutely not watched her demonstrate proper form on the beach.

(“Your coffee’s getting cold,” Wanda had said smugly.

“Shit.”

“And you’re drooling a little.”)

OR Agatha has a mid-life crisis and bails for LA. That’s what people did, right? Terrible breakup, mid-life crisis, pack up your sixteen-year-old kid and move to California. Completely reasonable sequence of events.

Then start sleeping with the hot surfing instructor, royally fuck up keeping it casual, and try your damndest not to fall in love. Less reasonable sequence of events. But whatever.

i looked to the children (i drank from the fountains) by seabiscuit Summary: “Wait, you haven’t even heard my pitch,” She can hear William’s footsteps quickening behind her, “She’s gay, too.”

Agatha turns sharply on her heel, “How could you possibly know that?”

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Agatha slaps a hand over her face, covering her eyes, “Oh my God, Teen, one of these days you’re going to get slapped in the face, and you’re going to deserve it.” * Or,Agatha’s teenage neighbor tries to play matchmaker with her and the hot funeral director who just moved in next door. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

better in the dark by seabiscuit Summary: “I don’t have sex.”

Agatha’s face screwed up somewhere between delight and incredulity, “You don’t ever?” She scoffed, “As in you’ve never at all? How long have you been here?”

“Since the inception of life itself.”

“And you’ve never fucked?” The way she said it, it did sound a little stupid, “What do you do to pass the time?”

“I scare children,” Death shifted in her chair, still rubbing at the skin of one hand with the other. No wonder Agatha had nowhere to live, she thought. She was unbearable. “Amongst other things.”

Or, Upon meeting Death, Agatha takes it upon herself to educate her on some of the finer points of being human. PC: This is pure, pure magic.

death and taxes (a series) by paddingtonfan69 Summary: They’re staring at each other over the now evenly stacked forms at the table. Agatha’s mask has fully slipped and Rio is fascinated by what’s underneath it, an unruly sort of anger, a sharp passion. Agatha looks like she wants to tear Rio from limb to limb. And Rio, god help her, would probably let her.

“Moving on to property taxes…”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Agatha lets out. “Don’t you have a life?” — Rio is the best IRS agent in her field. Agatha refuses to pay her taxes. A love story for the ages.

PC: This story is so random but man I love it

when we kiss (i have anger issues) by lgbtimelord Summary: there’s no one agatha hates more than rio vidal

but there’s no one evanora hates more than the vidal family

so, when her mother forces her to go home for halloween, bringing rio as her pretend girlfriend is the best course of action to piss her off

PC: i remember enjoying this one

with your boots beneath my bed by dumblibramoon Summary: "Here,” Rio said, standing and shrugging off her flannel overshirt. Of course she was wearing layers. Of course.

“I'm fine,” Agatha said automatically, even as a cold shiver ran through her.

Rio just raised an eyebrow and held out the shirt. “You're dripping on my hay.”

“Your hay will survive.” But Agatha took the shirt, trying not to notice how warm it was.

Nicky desperately craved this dusty hellscape of a ranch for summer camp, and because Agatha's not about to leave her son alone with a bunch of horse people, she rents a cottage nearby. And here comes Rio, wearing an incredibly unserious pair of Wrangler jeans PC: just cute little lesbians

if i could take her down and run (then i'd call her) by dumblibramoon Summary: “You're late,” Agatha manages to quip, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

“A lady is never late,” Rio retorts, kneeling beside the fallen witch. Her eyes rake over Agatha's form, taking in the severity of the wound. “Looks like you've had quite the night, sweetheart.”

Agatha tries to laugh, but it comes out as a pained cough. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

“Clearly,” Rio murmurs, her cool fingers brushing against Agatha's cheek. Agatha jolts quickly before listing back and slightly leaning into Rio’s hand. Goddamn, she was woozy.

Rio can sense when Agatha is anywhere near death (the physical kind). Featuring Agatha flirting with both her mortality and Death.

the way i feel about you baby can’t explain it by seabiscuit Summary: “She won’t even admit that she’s gay for a New York City Ballet dancer. You think she would go for you, Rio Vidal of Cobb, Oklahoma?” Jenn raises an eyebrow, “IT service provider who plays Elden Ring in her spare time.”

“Maybe.” Chirps Rio. Hope does, after all, spring eternal. * Or, Rio goes from IT service monkey to fucking her very beautiful, very poised boss in a very short period of time. And then, of course, there’s the aftermath. PC: ngl i don't remember much about this one but i remember liking it lol

She Gets The Job Done by visadero Summary: Cars don’t crash through fences for free,” Rio replied smoothly, shrugging. “But,” she continued, eyes glinting, “I’ll make you an offer. You cover just the cost of parts—let’s call it a grand—and I’ll throw in the labor for free.” Agatha frowned, knowing there had to be a catch. “And what exactly do you want in return?” Rio leaned back against the workbench, arms folded and expression deceptively casual. “Dinner with me.”

OR: Agatha is making her way cross country when she wrecks her car. There's only one shop in town ran by a deeply irritating and magnetic mechanic. She offers a discount on the work in exchange for dinner. Then she really puts in the body work (heyo). PC: this was a cute little piece

so maybe when you kiss me, i can let you see me cry  by rainbowinbeigeboots Summary: Agatha reluctantly has her first sleepover

PC: my babies i loved them so much in this

witchcraft filling your void (a series) by wariangle Summary: Pulling the sheet to her, Agatha gets up, draws a hand through her hair. “Get up,” she says, loudly.

The woman – Rio, if Agatha remembers correctly, Jesus fucking Christ – only mumbles something in response and turns over, away from the noise. On her back, right below her neck, the black tendrils of a tattoo spiral across her shoulder blades.

Agatha’s too fucking old for this. “Get up,” she repeats. She’s been teaching for over twenty years; she knows how to make her voice carry in a room. PC: this series has 4 works with 1-2 chapters each, i just put the summary to the first one. I enjoyed reading it and had some laughs with my baby rio

por eso by stick2theplan

Summary: In the seventies, Wanda decided Westview needed some queer representation. If Agnes hated her husband so much, maybe she’d prefer a wife.

(In which Ralph wasn’t real.)

PC: didn't know if i should add this in the multichapter or not since it is about 15000 words only but in any case, READ THIS

Underneath The Tree by Cthulhus_Curse Summary: Rio is back in her hometown after years of disappearance. Having always been seen as the black sheep for going three decades without meeting her soulmate, she finds herself awkwardly going through the motions of a rather disastrous family Christmas. But when a rather hasty brunette runs into her in town, Rio finds herself happy to spend as much time getting to know her before returning to the cruel reality of the holiday season. — Or Soulmate AU. Everyone has a journal that allows them to write back and forth with their soulmate, but need to leave it to fate to let them meet. ----------- OKAY SO, these were the ones i could find, god this list is long, maybe in the future there will be a part 2, who knows i hope i have been helpful to yall and you guys give these fics and authors the love that they deserve! seeya my babes<3

[stujet9rainshine-blog]

I find enemies to lovers TigerGhost pretty funny because I get the idea of Danny being between Taking Him Seriously and also Not Taking Him Seriously. Because yeah, Manny commits plenty crimes and Danny always assumes his enemies are willing to kill to get what they want, however, Manny’s still alive. He’d be so easy to kill if Danny either wanted to or had to, and then he’ll gladly kick his ass again no matter what he comes back as — skeleton or ghost.

Also because of the difference between Amity Park and Miracle City, Manny would probably try to flirt with Danny during fights and they make me think of these lines;

Manny: Danny, I…

Manny: I love you!

Danny: Not my problem.

That’s just how they are in the beginning. What are your thoughts on Enemies to Lovers TigerGhost?

Okay. So I've had a lot of thoughts on this and I'm starting a multi chapter fic on this.

It's so messy and I'm screaming my head off.

Anyway here's chapter 1 of enemies to lovers teenage tigerghost!

Rating T

Title: Messy like a Pollock Painting

Danny was tired.

Sure, that was his default state, but today felt worse. Another sleepless night, another rogue ghost, another morning dragging himself through school like the walking dead.

It was only the second week of junior year—barely September—and Danny was already convinced he wouldn’t survive until summer. Honestly, he was amazed he’d made it this far.

"You know, the mullet really isn’t helping your case, dude." Tucker snickered, ruffling Danny’s hair like a proud older brother.

"You’re the one who told me to 'embrace Fun Danny,' Tucker," Danny said, swatting his hand away.

Tucker chuckled. “The hairstyle is not what I meant, and you know it.”

"It’s a start. Take what you can get," Danny shot back.

"I mean, we could get a bit more personality out of you," Sam chimed in.

"Now you’re asking for too much. My personality is already peak perfection," Danny snorted, flipping his mullet like a Disney princess.

The trio burst into laughter. Maybe he could survive this school year after all.

Danny dragged himself into his first class, flopping into a desk squarely in the middle.

Not too close to the front—where teachers actually expected things from you. Not in the back—where it looked like you were hiding something.

The middle was the sweet spot. The place where people forgot you existed.

Sam and Tucker were scattered across different schedules this year, which sucked. But at least they had the same lunch period—which was all that really mattered.

Because if there was one universal truth in high school, it was this: eating alone was social suicide.

As he pulled his notebook and pencil from his bag, a snippet of conversation made his ears perk up.

Paulina and Star were top-tier gossips. Every piece of school news passed through them first.

Danny wasn’t interested in Paulina like that anymore, but as a student just trying to survive—and as a hero always looking for an edge?

Gossip was power. So he listened.

"Did you hear about the new exchange student?" Star asked, filing her nails like it was the least interesting news in the world.

"I did!" Paulina squealed. "I heard he’s from Mexico."

"Oh, yeah. Apparently, his parents are rich and famous and pulled some serious strings to get him in," Star said, chewing over the words like even she didn’t believe them.

Danny barely held back an eye-roll. That made zero sense.

What kind of parents sent their rich, Mexican nepo baby to Amity Park, Minnesota?

"Oh, yeah! That’s right," Paulina hummed. "Too bad he’s a sophomore. Otherwise, he’d be total A-list material."

Danny shook his head and let the conversation fade into background noise.

Because yeah. That was exactly what Casper High needed.

Another rich, snobby A-lister.

Danny hadn’t spared a second thought for the new exchange student—not until he saw him in the hallway.

He looked out of place.

Short but stocky, dark skin kissed by the sun, freckles dusting his face. A noticeable scar over his left eye. A leather jacket.

And a wide, cocky grin as he laughed with a group of underclassmen.

Yeah. Danny knew that look.

That was just another Dash Baxter.

Danny rolled his eyes.

He’d bet money Paulina would be all over him by the end of the week.

Danny flopped down at the trio’s usual lunch table outside. It was still warm enough to be tolerable, and he planned to soak up every last bit of sun before the inevitable northern cold set in.

Sam and Tucker hadn’t made it out yet, but Danny settled in anyway. They’d show up eventually.

He’d barely taken his first bite when someone sat down across from him.

Danny looked up, expecting Tucker or Sam—and promptly choked on his food.

Because that was not one of his friends.

It was the new exchange student.

Danny forced the traitorous bite down and scowled. "Can I help you?"

The guy grinned—wide and almost sharp. "¡Sí! First day, new school, I didn’t see you sitting with anyone—so I figured I’d join you!"

Danny glanced around.

Plenty of open seats. Underclassmen. Popular kids. Literally anywhere else.

He turned back to the intruder and frowned. "I’m not alone. My friends are just getting their food."

"Ay, okay! You can introduce me when they get here." He said it like it was already decided. Then he stuck out a hand, grinning like they were already friends. "I’m Manny! Manny Rivera!"

Danny’s lip curled as he eyed the outstretched hand with pure disgust. "Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

If it discouraged Manny, it didn’t show.

His hand stayed in place. "Maybe. But you seem like the most interesting person here."

Danny let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. "Wow. Okay. No need to commit this hard to the bit. Who put you up to this? Dash? Kwan?"

Manny blinked. "Uh?" He ran a hand through his hair—like he was trying to act casual. "I don’t even know who those people are." His voice slowed, confusion creeping in. "I just wanted to say hi."

Danny opened his mouth, already lining up another cutting remark—but that’s when Sam and Tucker arrived.

Both of them had trays of food in their hands. Both of them looked pissed.

"What do you want?" Sam snapped, immediately clocking Manny as trouble.

"Yeah," Tucker chimed in, his tone sharp as he backed her up.

Manny blinked, glancing between the newcomers. "A place to eat lunch," he said, like that should have been obvious.

Danny leaned forward, resting an arm on the table, his eyes narrowing. "Go do that somewhere else."

Manny stared at him.

For the first time, he actually hesitated. His face darkened, and Danny thought—was that a blush?

"¿Qué carajo?" he muttered under his breath, standing up abruptly. "Sure. I can do that."

His eyes flickered—Danny swore they flashed green for a second.

Then, with zero warning, Manny’s arm snapped out, lightning-fast—and Danny’s tray went flying off the table.

Danny blinked.

Sam gasped. "What do you think you’re doing?!" she barked.

But Manny was already walking away. "Going somewhere else," he said coolly, throwing one last glare over his shoulder.

Then, with narrowed eyes, he added, "Enjoy your lunch, gringo."

And just like that, he was gone.

Danny turned to Sam and Tucker. They had matching expressions of shock.

Slowly, all three of them looked at the upturned lunch tray.

"Well. That’s another missed meal." Danny finally broke the silence, voice flat.

Sam and Tucker sat down, immediately offering up pieces of their lunches.

Danny smiled. He had good friends.

"I’ll just show Mr. Lancer the crime scene," he muttered. "He might take pity on me."

"Probably," Sam snorted. "Though, what the fuck was that?"

Danny threw his hands up. "You know as much as I do! I was just starting to eat when the nepo baby exchange kid sat down next to me."

"What a jerk," Tucker parroted. "You must radiate ‘Bully Me’ energy, dude."

Danny snorted. "Isn’t that the truth."

He stood up, sighing. "Let me try to grab another tray before he comes back and throws that one too."

Then, with the distinct aura of a pissed-off teen boy, he stomped off toward Mr. Lancer, already piecing together the best excuse for a new meal.

Danny managed to score another lunch, thanks to Mr. Lancer.

The man was more than familiar with Danny’s stupid, never-ending streak of bad luck. Thankfully, no fight required.

Sure, Danny could have survived without eating. Didn’t mean he wanted to.

He was more annoyed than usual as the day dragged on—tired, stomach still unsettled from eating too fast.

But at least he was surviving.

Maybe, if he was really lucky, he’d make it to the end of the day without a ghost attack.

"So, your name is Danny, right?"

Danny yanked his locker open too hard, startled by a voice behind him.

His eyes snapped to Manny Rivera—leaning against the lockers like he was starring in a cologne commercial.

Pure, effortless confidence.

Danny frowned, irritation from earlier doubling down. "Yeah. Don’t get used to it."

Manny nodded, eyes glinting with something wild. "Ah, that’s okay! I can come up with plenty of nicknames for you instead!"

"I think I’d rather die," Danny said flatly.

Yeah, years of ‘Fentina’ and ‘Fenturd’ had not warmed him to the idea of getting nicknames from the kid who literally threw his lunch on the ground.

Manny chuckled, crossing his arms and leaning in like he was actually interested in Danny’s response.

"Are you sure, guapo?" He dragged the word out, like he was testing it.

Danny had no idea what that meant. He frowned anyway. "Take your nicknames—" he gestured vaguely at all of Manny "—and leave me alone."

Then he slammed his locker, maybe too hard, and stalked off to class.

~

Manny blinked slowly, watching Danny retreat.

He glanced around, half-expecting someone to pop out with a cue card or a sign from the universe.

Nothing.

He sighed, running a hand through his curls.

"Okay. Strike two."

Manny shook his head, trying to piece together what went wrong.

He was just trying to befriend this broody, untamed, wild-energy-having guy.

It didn’t make sense.

He’d never had trouble making friends before.

Why was this time different?

He went through the checklist:

Was it his English? No, his English was fine.

Was he rude? Probably not. Then again, he wasn’t in Mexico anymore.

Did he have something on his face?

He checked a mirror.

Nope. Still hot.

So what was it?

Maybe Danny was just having a bad day.

Yeah. That was probably it.

Manny sighed, rolling his shoulders back.

"Alright, Rivera. Next time, be more gentle. Soft. Like a cloud." He was not soft. Or gentle. Or cloud-like.

But he had to try.

He was in a new place. A new school. Away from everything familiar.

And if he didn’t make a worth while friend soon… This was going to be a long, lonely year.

Manny walked away from the locker, plastering his usual grin back on.

Danny Fenton was officially his next challenge.

Manny had annoyed his way into plenty of friendships before—this wouldn’t be any different.

People could only resist the Rivera Charm™ for so long.

As he headed toward his next class, someone fell into step beside him.

"Danny isn't exactly the friendly type."

Manny glanced to the side to see Paulina Sanchez, easily the most popular girl at Casper High.

She was one of the only other Hispanic kids in the school—though she was American-born, and she carried herself like a queen.

She was watching him with sharp, assessing eyes, clearly interested.

"Him and his friends are losers of Casper High," she declared, like she was doing him a favor by warning him.

Manny raised a brow. "Eh, he just seems interesting," he said, still turning over the conversation in his head.

Paulina laughed, raising a manicured hand to her mouth like some cartoon villainess. "He's about as strange as they come!"

Manny nodded slowly. "Uh-huh. You sound like you really don’t like the guy."

Paulina flipped her hair. "He used to follow me around like a puppy. Kind of pathetic, honestly. He’s been quieter lately, but he’s still a loser. And that mullet?" She wrinkled her nose. "Definitely not an improvement."

Manny hummed, only half-listening.

If Paulina was this against him, Danny must be way more interesting than he thought.

Yeah. He was definitely doubling down on this friendship.

~

Danny yawned as he walked toward his locker, mentally bracing himself for another school day.

Yesterday had been a bust.

At least he’d gotten a little more sleep last night, so he was slightly more prepared for another long, miserable day at Casper High.

Coffee always helped.

He took a slow sip from his thermos, books balanced under one arm as he trudged toward first period.

Then he heard it.

"¡Hola Danny!"

Danny paused mid-step, exhaled sharply, and looked up at the ceiling. "Ancients help me."

He turned, already glaring, and found Manny Rivera, grinning like an over-caffeinated maniac.

"What do you want?" Danny asked. He did not trust any teenager with that much energy this early in the morning.

Manny blinked, then immediately rearranged his face into something softer.

It was probably supposed to look warm.

"Oh, I just wanted to see if I could walk with you to class!" His voice was noticeably calmer.

Danny narrowed his eyes. "You’re not even in any of my classes."

Manny leaned in slightly, still smiling. "Well, it’s polite to walk with people!"

Danny opened his mouth to protest—And then, suddenly, his books and coffee were airborne.

Danny watched in stunned horror as his coffee thermos hit the ground, lid popping off—hot liquid splattering across the floor.

His science textbook took the brunt of it.

Pages soaking, curling at the edges.

Ruined.

Manny blinked down at the disaster. "¡Mierda! ¡No quise hacer eso!"

Danny’s eye twitched. He turned to Manny, voice snapping like a whip, "What the actual fuck is your problem?!"

The hallway went dead silent.

Several students froze mid-conversation.

Danny Fenton did not yell.

Danny Fenton was a sigh-and-pick-it-up kind of guy.

Manny, however?

Manny looked delighted. "Oh! So you do talk to me!"

Danny saw red. He shoved Manny back. "Leave me the fuck alone."

Then he dropped to his knees, aggressively scooping up his ruined textbook and empty thermos.

This was going to cost him.

He’d have to pay for a new textbook.

He’d have to track down the janitor.

He’d have to beg the librarian for a replacement.

And now he was late to class.

And he had no coffee.

Danny did not even spare Manny a second glance as he marched off toward the library, seething.

"Did you see Danny shove the new kid?"

"Yeah, what the hell?"

"That's not like him!"

"What a dick!"

Danny heard the whispers following him down the hall.

He was not having this.

What was that fucking exchange student’s problem?

His brain immediately pulled up the gossip he had overheard.

Manny’s parents had to pull strings to get him into Casper High.

That meant he must’ve gotten kicked out of his last school.

Great.

Just what Danny needed—a troublemaking nepo baby who was clearly targeting him.

Maybe the shove and the yelling would scare him off.

It worked on Dash.

The one time Danny shoved Dash back, the bullying got way less physical.

Sure, the meathead jock still bothered him, but now it was mostly verbal.

Plus, Danny was taller than Dash now, which probably helped.

Then again… Manny was tiny.

Easily eight inches shorter than Danny.

And yet, he didn’t seem bothered by that at all.

Because Manny was built.

Like, actually built.

Danny had a sinking suspicion this guy lifted weights for fun.

He sighed.

What a fucking waste of his morning.

And his coffee.

Danny had missed the entire first half of class thanks to the clusterfuck in the hallway.

His teacher was not pleased.

Thankfully, the librarian had actually given him a note for once.

The teacher looked genuinely surprised that Danny wasn’t just late for no reason, like usual.

But that barely mattered.

Danny was coffeeless.

Fifty bucks poorer.

And a headache was already forming behind his eyes.

Then, something smacked the back of his head.

Danny’s eye twitched.

Slowly, he turned—just in time to see Paulina blinking at him, all wide-eyed innocence.

Great. The A-listers really did stick together. This day just keeps getting better.

~

Danny’s headache from this unreasonably stupid morning had finally started to fade.

He’d caught up to Sam and Tucker in the cafeteria and was ranting about his insane morning.

"That Manny kid knocked my coffee out of my hand and ruined my textbook that I had to pay to replace!" he huffed, grabbing an empty tray.

"Yeah, what the hell?" Tucker frowned. "That really escalated quickly."

"You’re telling me," Danny groaned, shifting forward in line. "And to top it off? I didn’t even get more than a couple sips of my coffee."

"Lame. Well, I heard you yelled at him." Sam elbowed him playfully.

"I did!" Danny declared. "I don’t want him thinking I’m an easy target. The last thing I need is some underclassman making me his problem."

Trays full, the trio headed outside—Then they stopped dead.

Manny Rivera was sprawled out on the picnic bench, tray in front of him.

A comically large bottle of hot sauce sat open next to his plate—His mashed potatoes were practically drowning in it, a violent red mess that looked like a crime scene.

His backpack took up the rest of the seat.

He had been waiting for them.

Danny’s eye twitched.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam bit out, clearly as over this as Danny was.

Manny didn’t even flinch. "Am I breaking some sacred American seating law, amiga?" he asked, stirring his crime scene potatoes.

"YES!" Sam snapped. "We sit here. You sit over there—with Paulina and Dash and the rest of the A-listers."

Manny blinked. "But I want to sit here!" His grin was all teeth.

Danny clenched his jaw. "You’re in my seat."

Manny glanced around dramatically. "Huh. Your name’s not here, Billy Ray."

Danny’s temper flared. "You did not just call me that."

"You’re the one with the mullet," Manny grinned, twirling his own hair mockingly.

Danny took a step forward. Loomed. "Just… just go sit somewhere else."

Manny just tilted his head, smirking.

Then, deliberately, he threw his legs over the bench—gesturing to the empty space next to him. "You could just sit with me. Since you guys have claimed the table."

Danny’s fists curled. "No. You need to leave!"

Manny shrugged. "Aww, but messing with you is fun, jenga."

Sam also stepped forward, eyes darkening. "I will punch you into next week if you don’t move."

Manny blinked. He looked between the two of them, then sighed dramatically.

He stood—suddenly very, very close to Danny. His smirk widened. "You’re cute when you’re angry."

Then, with a flash of movement, Manny grabbed his stuff and strode off—toward the A-listers, who had been watching everything.

Danny was still frozen. Still flustered. Still pissed. "What the actual fuck was that?"

Sam slumped into her seat. "I have no idea. But he’s gone now. Let’s just eat before he comes back."

Danny had a sinking feeling this wasn’t over.

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> riki nishimura x reader genre -> non-idol au, school au, hyrbid au warnings -> n/a word count -> 2.4k

abstract -> he's perfect how he is... but can maybe change for her.

y/n’s perspective

“Niki, we always do this” I whined as he locked himself in the bathroom. I needed to get him ready for tonight’s party. If I didn’t have to go I wouldn’t… but with my family pushing me into choosing a major in business, they're making me befriend other kids who are from wealthy families. 

“Please… I don’t want to go alone” I begged but he didn’t respond. It was running late and the driver was gonna be here soon… so I might have to go alone today. 

I gave up trying to convince him and I went to do the final touches. Grabbing a jacket, fixing my makeup, and grabbing everything I needed. 

When I left my room, I couldn’t help but smile. 

“You’re gonna go with me?” I asked and he nodded. “I can’t let you go on your own” he muttered and I chuckled. “Besides, look at how forgetful you are,” he said as he pulled my hair roller off my bangs. “Oh,” I said genuinely forgetting as he laughed at me. 

“Do you–” “Yes, I have my tail ring on. I’m ready, now let's go before your dad starts calling”

Riki Nishimura was a stray hybrid I met when I was a kid. We were on a vacation trip to Japan when I saw him. I offered him some food I had on me and he took it from me to eat it like he was starved. 

My parents were already wanting to get me a hybrid so I begged them to keep him. In which they reluctantly agreed. However, when we found out he wasn’t a normal black cat hybrid they agreed. 

He was a panther hybrid and has been with me for years. We grew up together… However, my parents never liked how rowdy he was. Even now they tell me to get another hybrid, one that could join me in dinners, parties, and one who is overall more well-behaved. 

I wasn’t gonna let them replace him. He was my best friend, my number one confidant. Besides… who needs a fancy and well-behaved hybrid? Niki was way more fun!

niki’s perspective

It was the same old party they threw with the same kids as their rich human parents and new collectibles. They liked to collect new hybrids where they’d show them off and then throw them away… but not y/n. 

Without her, I probably would still be mistaken for an overgrown cat hybrid on the street. It doesn’t mean I liked being gawked at and set a price on what they’d trade her for me. Of course, she’d never let them... I’ve seen how annoyed and angry she gets and it made me happy she cared so much. 

I cared for her too… She was clumsy and an idiot so she needed someone to take care of her. So I'm here… at a stupid party filled with spoiled rich kids. 

Not to say she isn't spoiled… she is. However, I never questioned that she loved me. She always makes that clear with everything she does for me. 

“Oh! You’re y/n right?” I heard and I saw a girl behind us with what smelled like a bird hybrid. “Mmhm… have we met before?” she asked why I didn’t think so… I would’ve recognized her and her hybrid. “My name–”

I didn’t care what she had to say… I just didn’t like how her hybrid kept on staring at me with those eyes of his. What was his problem?

I was cut off from my thoughts when suddenly the topic of discussion became me… 

“He’s really pretty and exotic too! I just haven’t heard good things about him, you know?” she said and I had to refrain from growling at her. Who was she to talk right in front of my face about me? And to y/n?

“Jay here is well-behaved! He’s from America you know–” Is that supposed to make him impressive? Congrats bird you’re a pet! “–it's just a shame you know. I wanted a bunny or maybe a cat hybrid” she pouted and I could see his disappointed expression. 

“Oh, Niki is really sweet but he’s solitary–” “You should invest in a social hybrid you know?” she cut her off to say. Rude… why would she need another hybrid when she has me?

“I like the way he is, he’s been with me since we were kids so there's no way I could ever replace him like that,” she said and I felt proud. 

“I heard about how much you care for him. I guess rumors were true” she said and I knew she was amongst those who talked about why she couldn’t get a nicer and social hybrid who smiles and dotes on her. I do dote on her… and I’m only nice to her. Everyone else was pushing it. 

“What is he if I can ask?” she said and y/n only sighed while looking up at me. “He’s a puma hybrid from Japan,” she answered. “Woah! I heard puma hybrids were rare! I thought he was just a cat… makes sense then for how tall he is.” she said as she got closer to me. 

“Oh please don’t do that. You’ll make him uncomfortable.” y/n said as I went behind her. 

“You should take him to the training you know. It's for the hybrids who need manners… they are opening classes in your university for hybrids'' she said… she stalked y/n to know what university she was in? She needs a life. 

“Oh… I know of them. I think he is just fine the way he is” y/n said and she bowed. “If you’ll excuse us,” she said and we walked away from the pair. “She was a bitch” y/n muttered and I laughed.

“Calm down, you have an act to uphold,” I said and she sighed. “y/n?” I said and she looked at me with her eyes filled with determination to answer to give me anything I asked for. “Why didn’t you tell me your uni is having hybrid classes?” I asked and she sighed. 

“They're mainly about etiquette. She said how to take care of your owner… how to behave in a social setting, etc” and I nodded. 

“I want to go,” I said and her eyes widened. “But you're perfect–” “No, I’m not… I caused you a lot of trouble. I heard your dad get mad again this morning. He didn’t want me here because of last time” I said and she shook her head. 

“Yah! Don’t do that!” she scolded and I smiled softly. 

“Please? You said you would give me anything I asked for. I want to be a better hybrid for you” 

“I can’t believe I'm agreeing to this,” she said and I smiled. “Thank you for letting me do this,” I said and she sighed. “I hate that the class requires collars though. I would’ve rather you had the tail ring instead” she complained and I chuckled.

“You’ll do great in your midterm, okay? Don’t worry about me” I said as I kissed her cheek. “After we’ll go for some Japanese food,” she said and I grinned. “Takoyaki!” I yelled and she chuckled. “I’ve been craving some curry udon,” she said and I nodded. 

“I’ll do my best for you,” I said and she smiled. “You already are. Don’t change, okay?” she asked and I nodded. I just wanted to improve for her… 

When I entered I was immediately overwhelmed with the many scents of hybrids. I ignored the stares of the familiar scents and went down into the big lecture room. 

I sat down in the middle of the third to first row, not expecting others to approach me. “Ah! I’m not late!” I heard as I saw a Golden

A Retriever hybrid suddenly entered… he didn’t have a collar nor the scent of a domesticated hybrid. He grinned at me and I suddenly regretted staring… “I’m Jake, and you are?” he said as he approached me and sat next to me.

I heard the laughs around us, probably of me socializing with another hybrid. “Riki,” I said and he nodded. “I think your collar is cool!” he said and I chuckled. “Of course it is, I chose it,” I said and he looked confused. 

“Your owner must be kind,” he said with a wagging tail and I chuckled. “Hey, isn’t that miss l/n’s hybrid?” I suddenly heard a bunch of whispers and I sighed and slouched down to my chair. 

“Oh? Do they know you?” he asked and I scoffed. “Don’t get it mixed up, they know OF me, they don’t know me” I said and he nods 

“They seem to know your owner,” he said and I scoffed. “They don’t know her…” I muttered. “Is she nice?” he asked and I laughed. 

“She’s perfect” 

y/n's perspective

“I thought you were going home after?” I heard and I saw Wonyoung with Seonghwa. I nod, “I do, I just need to pick up Niki, he’s taking etiquette classes,” I said and they both froze. “Your dad is making him take classes?” Wonyoung said and I chuckled. 

“No, he wanted them for whatever reason. I tried to convince him otherwise but he insisted” I said and they both looked at each other. “Oh shut up the both of you,” I said and they chuckled as they caught up with me. 

“He’s so spoiled if you just fold like that,” Seonghwa added and I scoffed. “You do spoil that cat a lot” Wonyoung teased and I rolled my eyes. “Have you told Hongjoong–” “He would kill me in my sleep if I ever brought it up” Seonghwa cut me off and I chuckled… that's true. 

We finally made it to the building where the hybrid classes are taking place but I didn’t see Niki… I saw the hybrids out already so where was he? 

“How long is it gonna take for him to come to you?” Wonyoung asked and I didn’t know. I looked at my phone, and the class should’ve already ended by now. “Why’d you even allow it?” Soenghwa asked and I sighed. 

“Cause he wouldn’t let go of it. He begged and begged… I couldn’t keep denying it” I said and they sighed. “She’s whipped for him, that's the answer,” Wonyoung said and Seonghwa nodded. 

“Oh? y/n!!” I heard as I saw the girl from the party again with her hybrid. What was her name again?

“You’re Wonyoung and Seonghwa, right? I’m e/n” she said. “I’m glad to see you’re having Niki taking this class,” she said and I sighed. “His name is Riki,” I said and she looked confused. “Oh? But you call him Niki?” she asked.

“That's a nickname that she only calls him, he will glare or even scoff if he hears you call him that,” Seonghwa said and it was true… I've called him that since I was a kid and yet he never let anyone else call him that. “This class should teach him otherwise,” she said and I had to refrain from scoffing. 

“Oh, you should look into a secondary hybrid,” she said and I glared. 

“I wouldn’t get another one,” I clarified. “Riki would get too jealous,” “Or he’d kick the other hybrid out himself,” Wonyoung and Seonghwa added. 

“But if you were to get one he’d have to comply with her. She’s the owner,” she said and I shook my head. “Well, I was thinking of something cute… maybe a fox? Ooh or a pretty cat!” she said while looking at herself in a pocket mirror fixing her lipstick while her hybrid looked at her with a sad expression.

“I wanna go home” I suddenly heard. Niki? 

“Why do you have scratches on your face? Are you okay?” I asked and he avoided eye contact when I grabbed his jaw to look at his wounds. He nodded, “I wanna go home” he repeated and I sighed. 

“Ok, just let me take this off,” I said as I took off his collar and took out his tail ring. “Riki!! You forgot… Oh. Please don’t be mad at him! He was only defending me!!” I saw a dog hybrid yell while he held Niki’s backpack. Seonghwa grabbed it, holding it for me. 

“Please, it's all my fault. Don’t abandon him because of me!” he pleaded and even bowed. I looked at Niki who looked away. “Why would I abandon you? Niki, what happened?” I asked and the other hybrid soon stood up but looked down to my hands. His collar? I sighed and turned Niki around when I clipped his tail ring. “Thank you for caring about him but he’s not in trouble. You should find your owner, they must be worried about you–” “He’s a stray” I was interrupted by e/n.

A stray? “Did you see? It's why they make the hybrids wear collars because they need to know by the end of the class who is a stray and who is owned. It's a mixture of people like us who pay and hybrids of low status who need major help like him. He’s probably also a runt” she said suddenly in disgust as she stepped back.

“Thank you for looking after Niki,” I said and he nodded with a small smile. I grabbed the backpack from Seonghwa as I looked at him and I saw his worried eyes. “Come on, I'm hungry,” I said as I dragged him away from the lecture hall and everyone else while I heard Wonnie and Seonghwa complain about me abandoning them…

“I still want that udon curry,” I pondered and he sighed. He grabbed his backpack and clipped his collar there as he walked silently. “Did you fight for him?” I asked and he nodded silently.

I smiled. “That’s very kind of you,” I said and from the corner of my eye, he looked at me confused. “What were they doing to him?” I asked and he sighed. “Called him a runt… a stray… useless. It was all when the teacher left for a break and I don’t know why I did but I fought for him” he said and I smiled. 

“That was very brave of you. I’m proud of you Niki!” I said with a grin and he smiled softly. “The teacher gave me a warning cause he said if he told you that you’d return me,” he said and I chuckled. “We’ve been together for years! I could never do that” I said and he nodded. 

“Still want takoyaki?” I asked and he chuckled. “Always!” he yelled as he ran ahead of me. 

“HEY!! NO FAIR!! YOU HAVE LONGER LEGS!!”

taglist -> @ilovecheese09 @gudkc @nikisvanillaccola @blossominghunnie @mheretoreadff @k1ttylvr

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[kim-the-miserable-rat]

I SAW A TIKTOK WHERE A GUY SAID THAT "LES MIS" WAS JUST A THREE HOUR MUSICAL OF THE FRENCH COMPLAINING

(and I mean, he's not entirely wrong.)

(JUST ACT 1 CAUSE I UNDERESTIMATED HOW LONG THIS WOULD TAKE ME)

So here's a list of what they complain about in each song:

LOOK DOWN: the prison system sucks

PROLOGUE: the life of an exconvict sucks

VALJEAN'S SOLILOQUY: this guy is too nice how dare he? And also the prison system still sucks.

AT THE END OF THE DAY: my workplace is full of cunts

I DREAMED A DREAM: men are the worst

LOVELY LADIES: selling my necklace, hair and becoming a prostitute to help my child is something that I have all the right to be mad about (she's completely right, Fantine you deserved sooooo much better queen)

FANTINE'S ARREST: (to the bourgeoisie asshole) stop dehumanizing me I will fight you (to javert) your justice is not fair (to Jean Valjean) It's kinda your fault that im in this situation tbh

THE RUNAWAY CART: (javert) YO HOMIE WTF ARE YOU HULK? [suspecting]or are you buff because of slavery?.....

WHO AM I?: Oh poo! Now I have to choose between lying (it will make god sad) or going back to jail (hundreds of people will lose their jobs and end up living in misery by my actions) Fuck them workers, im an honest man, lets save that one innocent man.

THE TRIAL: the justice system is flawed. Look at my sick ass tattoo in my chest. Ok nvm im going to se Fantine fuck you all.

FANTINE'S DEATH: I will never see my daughter again this is so unfair (it really is)

THE CONFRONTATION: (Jean Valjean) Javert could you FUCKING WAIT A SECOND! I HAVE SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO DO(Javert) Im going to drop all my lore in two lines that you will not get cause were all singing at the same time; and NO, you can't just go, WTF?

CASTLE ON A CLOUD: HELLO, CHILD SLAVERY???? SOMEBODY HELP THIS CHILD ASAP!!!

MASTER OF THE HOUSE: Madam Thenardier has a solo just to talk shit about his husband (and he deserves every bit of it)

THE BARGAIN: (Thenardiers) NO, OF COURSE YOU CAN'T TAKE OUR LITTLE TREASURE AWAY -unless you pay for her, that is-

PARIS (look down reprise): EVERYTHING IS AWFUL, WE HATE IT HERE!

THE ROBBERY: (Eponine) FUCK YOU MARIUS MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! (Javert) Ewwww... i hate criminals! and also poor people. Same thing to me, really.

STARS: I'm so obsessed with that fugitive that it's starting to blur into an homoerotic desire. Also HOW DARE HE to be free? I will hunt him for sport

EPONINE'S ERRAND: (Eponine) So now I have to help YOU, the boy im in love with to find a random girl? ALSO WTF DON'T GIVE ME MONEY YOU ASSHOLE.

ABC CAFE: (Enjolras) STOP WHINING MARIUS, NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR NON EXISTENT LOVE LIFE, WE ARE PLANNING A REVOLUTION HERE, YOU KNOW? Also please guys can we take this thing seriously? Please please please :(

DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING?: (the people, obviously) time to eat the rich or die trying!

RUE PLUMMET/IN MY LIFE: (Cosette) father, ur cool to be around and all that but.... Who the fuck are you? And why do we act like we are convicts running from the law (cause ur dad kinda is, sweetie)

A HEART FULL OF LOVE: (Eponine) It fucking sucks to have helped my crush find the girl he's in love with[who would have thought?] Guess I will look at them longingly from like five feet away while they confess their love for each other and purposefully ignore me.

THE ATTACK ON RUE PLUMMET: (Eponine) GODAMNIT they will think I'm one of those assholes I have to do something! Go away or I'll scream IM INSANE I WILL FUCKING DO IT. Also fuck you dad. (Babet) I DON'T FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE LORE, GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY THENARDIER (Thenardier) Im surrounded by idiots! (Jean Valjean) TIME TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, FUCK EVERYONE WHO WANTS TO SEE MY DOWNFALL.

ONE DAY MORE: (Jean Valjean) Kinda sucks to have to run from the law [yeah homie we noticed that] (Marius & Cosette) OH NO! I'LL BE SEPARATED FROM THE LOVE OF MY LIFE THAT I MET A WEEK AGO. WHAT A GREAT TRAGEDY (Eponine) Marius still doesnt care about me. (Enjolras) He's not complaining, he's having the best time of his life. Good for him. Enjoy it while it lasts, citizen! (Javert) Guess I'll go as a spy with this cool new outfit. [Again, not a complain but important to notice]

OK, THIS DESCENDED INTO MADNESS.

EXPECT ACT 2 SOON :)

[lisupandowntown]

Hey!! If you’d have interest & are still looking for mini-fics, what about a little holiday overeating fic where Rory or Jeremiah get competitive with the other about finishing something and one of them ends up sick? They have such a cute sibling-ish dynamic and are both a little stubborn/competitive so it seems like something that could happen 😂

Here you go, anon! I really liked the prompt and I'm sorry this didn't turn out exactly like I wanted, but my energy and muse have been kind of absent lately. I'm trying to get back to it though.

“This is going to end badly, isn’t it?”  Noa leaned in to speak to Drew even though Rory and Jeremiah were too many steps ahead to hear them.  Drew gave her an aggrieved grimace.  

“This is the biggest Christmas market in Boston; if they’re really serious about eating something from every single stall, we’re leaving them on a street corner with their belly aches.”  He frowned in the direction of his boyfriend, who had a sausage roll in one hand and a sugar cookie in the other.  

 Noa huffed appreciatively.  “And then you and I are going to a hotel; preferably one with a spa.”  She looked around the sprawling, outdoor square.  “More than half the food here’s fried; I bet Rory’s sick before they’re halfway through.”

“Twenty bucks says it’s even earlier.”  Drew shook his head in the direction of Rory and Jeremiah, who were now at a stall selling fried potato and onion puffs called Kartoffel Puffer. “Gabe had the right idea to only eat gluten free with Logan.  Where’d they go anyway?” 

“There’s some stall with celiac safe donuts and french fries they wanted to find; and I bet we don’t see them again today.”  She knocked hips with Drew.  “Wanna make a run for it?”

“Yes,” laughed Drew.  “Oh damn, too late; here they come.”  He shrugged apologetically.  “Next time we need to be faster.”

“Faster about what?  Eating chocolate filled churros?  Cause they’re amazing.”  Rory had powdered sugar all over his mouth and Noa had to resist the urge to wipe it off with a napkin and grab the dessert out of his hand at the same time.  He’d had a hellish month at work - two horrible child pornography cases that had brought him home upset nearly to the point of tears a couple of nights. So if he wanted to act like a stupid fraternity boy and eat himself sick, Noa was certainly going to let him.  Now she smiled indulgently and took the pastry he handed her.

“Mmm, delicious,” she agreed.  The churro was crispy and greasy and rich, and Noa tried not to wince when Rory bought another one.  “I thought the rule was one thing at each stall.”

Rory shrugged.  “Jer ate a second one; I don’t want him to get ahead.”  

“Ahead?  I didn’t realize this was a competition.”  Drew’s voice had an undercurrent of the same skepticism Noa felt.  That balance of “I love you but you’re being an idiot.”  Once Rory and Jeremiah got it into their heads to try to beat each other at something it was useless to try to stop them.  So she shrugged.

“At least the temperature’s dropping; maybe they’ll get cold before they’re full.”  She stomped her feet to warm them up.  “Rory’s going to owe me for this.”

Still, it was good to see him relaxed and joking again.  He brushed a sticky kiss against the side of her cheek and then wrapped his arms around her for a moment.  Noa rested her head on his chest.

“You smell like chocolate.  And french fries.  And donuts.”  She was torn between asking him to stop eating and just giving up and dealing with the consequences later.  Rory pressed a kiss onto her head and against her better judgment she decided to keep her mouth shut. He was an adult, after all.

“I’m a sweet guy; what can I say?” he joked.  He cleared his throat.  “I need something to drink.  Gable!  Hot cider time - your turn to buy.!”  He waved at a stall decorated with fake apple trees and Jeremiah promptly got in line. 

“Apple fritter too,” he said mildly.  “If you can handle it.” 

“Oh I can handle it,” Rory shot back.  “Just try me.”  

Noa rolled her eyes at Drew.  “Like I said, this will not end well.”

She was even more certain of that half an hour later.  Rory and Jeremiah had made it through three more rows of stalls, eating gingerbread, bratwurst, pastries, and yet more french fries, washing it all down with beer and hot chocolate.  They had both slowed down a lot by the  time they got to one of the stalls just past the center of the market.  It sold deep fried batter-dipped sausage bites and even before she got close, Noa could smell the strong odor of grease wafting in the air.  

Next to her, Rory gave a soft groan.  “Oh fuck me,” he muttered.  “Where’s Jeremiah putting it all?” 

“Where are you?” she asked.  “My god, Rory, you look like you’re practically sweating bacon fat.”  

“Just . . . just need to burp,” he gulped, dropping his head to his chest and swallowing hard.  His body jumped as he finally brought up some air but when he looked up again his expression was still uncomfortable.  

“Didn’t . . . hic . . . didn’t help much,” he admitted under his breath to Noa.  She brushed her hand down his back.  

“Ready to stop this nonsense then?  It’s getting colder.” The sun was going down and the crowds were starting to thin out.  It was a perfect time to leave, as far as Noa was concerned.  

“Not until he stops,” Rory said grimly, nodding his head at Jeremiah.  The man was holding a paper basket of food in one hand while the other was wrapped around his boyfriend, kissing him rather insistently.  “Giving . . . up, Jer?” he called, burping under his breath.  “Looks kind of like you’d rather have your boyfriend in your mouth right now.”

Jeremiah slowly pulled away and smirked in Rory’s direction.  “For the record, I like all kinds of sausages in my mouth.”  He took a big bite of the  pastry and pushed the basket with the other twp in Rory’s direction.  “Delicious.”

Rory groaned, and Noa suspected it wasn’t only because of the terrible joke.  “I hate you,” he said thickly, before shoving an entire fried sausage in his mouth.  Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead.  He chewed longer than was probably necessary and then swallowed.  “What’s next?” 

Jeremiah and Drew seemed to be having some sort of private conversation.  Jeremiah put a fist to his mouth and grimaced before straightening up and giving Rory a knowing grin.

“I think it’s a draw,” he said easily.  “Doctor’s orders.”  His eyes caught Noa’s and she gave him a tiny nod of thanks.  “Besides, - ” he added, clearing his throat. - “Drew’ll kill me if he has to nurse my stomach ache on his night off.” He grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and threaded their fingers together. “We’re going to pick up some Pepto and grab the T back to Cambridge. You good to drive?” He directed his question to Rory, but Noa answered.

“We’re good; thanks,  Our car’s in a garage a couple blocks from here.”  She wrapped her arm around Rory’s waist and tried not to wince at the feeling of his stomach gurgling under her hand. As soon as Jeremiah and Drew were out of sight, he slumped against her.

“Oh god, I ate too much.  Why didn’t you tell me to stop?”  He turned his head away to burp again.  Noa huffed.

“Don’t blame this on me; I didn’t force you to be an idiot.”  She stamped her feet up and down.  “C’mon, my toes are getting numb.  You can complain in the car.”  

Rory took three steps and then stopped suddenly.  Noa stopped too.

“What?  We’re going the right direction, aren’t we?”  Now that they weren’t moving and eating, she realized how freezing it actually was.  The wind had picked up and the snow that had threatened all day had begun in the form of sleet that was already making the sidewalks wet. Rory gave a tight nod.

“Yeah.  It’s just . . .” He gulped, loudly enough that Noa could hear it even over the wind, and she suddenly knew what he was going to say. 

“I need to puke.”  His mouth tightened.  “Not . . . not this second, but I’m gonna.”  He wrapped his arms around his waist and grimaced.

Noa grimaced back.  “Yeah, I can see that,” she sighed.  Now that it had happened, that Rory was sick, she wasn’t sure whether to feel guilty for not stopping him from eating so much or frustrated that he hadn’t shown some self-control.  A strong gust of wind blew right through her and frustration won.

“Can you wait until we’re somewhere warmer? Like home? We have two nice, cozy bathrooms at home.”  

In response, Rory leaned forward to brace his hands on his knees so he could spit onto the sidewalk.  

“Fuck Rory, really? I thought you said you could wait,”  Despite her annoyance, Noa rested her hand on her boyfriend’s back.  She wasn’t a total bitch.”  

Rory spit again and then straightened up. “I can,” he said thickly, wiping a hand across his mouth.  “I can wait.”  His mouth twisted with a suppressed gag. “For a little.”  He gazed at her miserably.  

Noa’s frustration didn’t exactly disappear, but clearly the lecture had to wait.  She tugged gently on her boyfriend’s arm.  “Let’s get you somewhere a little more private.”  One of the garbage cans that dotted the market might have been an option, but they were the kind that didn’t have open tops.  Normally, FBI agent Rory approved of them because they were more secure and harder to hide things like bombs inside. Tonight it just meant he couldn’t throw up in one.  He started to walk again, letting up sickly little burps with almost every step. 

“Sorry,” he muttered after a bigger and wetter belch that forced him to stop walking again.  They were out of the market by now and almost to the little alley that led to the parking garage.  He glanced in that direction and then shook his head to himself, closing his eyes and leaning against a building.  

“You’ll make it up to me later.  Right now go ahead and puke so we can get in the car.  You’ll feel better when all that greasy food is out of your stomach.  How many of those sausage rolls did you eat anyway?.”

Noa was purposely blunt and it worked; Rory gave a choking gag and lurched forward. She pushed his shoulder.

“Not in the middle of the sidewalk,” she instructed, and Rory shuffled forward until his head was over the curb.  He retched, and then began panting. Noa patted his back.  “Just get it up.”

“Trying,” he muttered crossly.  “I hope Jer is puking too.”  

“If he is, the two of you are taking me and Drew out of brunch tomorrow.”

“No . . . food,” Rory groaned.  “Ever again.”

“Yeah right,” Noa chuckled.  “I know you and Jeremiah.”  

“I just . . .” Rory began.  He spit.  “Fuck.”  His body jerked with a thick hiccup and a fountain of vomit poured out of his mouth, so quickly that Noa had to jump backward to save her boots.  

Rory backed up too, and then threw up more barely digested food.  It steamed as it hit the cold street and Noa looked away.  Normally vomit didn’t bother her but the sheer amount and violence of Rory’s puking was kind of gross.

Rory apparently agreed.  “Gross,” he said, glaring at his former dinner.  He wiped his hand across his face.  “I shouldn’t have eaten so much.”  He burped softly and gave Noa a sheepish smile.  “I’m sorry I blamed you.  I was really feeling terrible.”

Noa shrugged.  “Like I said, you’ll make it up to me tomorrow.  But are you safe to get in the car now?  I really am freezing.”  

Rory rubbed at his stomach and worked up another burp.  “I think so.  Still not feeling great, but not like I’m about to go all Exorcist again.”  

“Try to warn me if you are.”  Noa rifled through her purse and pulled out a package of mints.  “Want one?”  

Rory shook his head.  “Not yet,” he gulped.  “Need to let my stomach settle a little more first.”  His face paled suddenly.  “Or maybe not.”  There was an open garbage can next to the elevator in the parking garage and he stumbled over to it, gagging.  A second later he vomited again.  Finally he stood up, breathing hard.  

“Okay,” he said heavily.  “Now I’m done.” He took the mint Noa hand out and slowly put it in his mouth.  “Let’s go home; I’m freezing.”

Noa rolled her eyes.  “I never would have guessed.”

[thepunkmuppet]

just finally got to watch workin boys and OH MY GODDDDDDD I HAVE THOUGHTS

SPOILERS AHEAD

jeff as hidgens is so. he’s just so

chad’s name stayed the same even though it was changed to workin’ girls everyone clapped

🎶 JUST ME AND MY SIX BOYFRIENDS 🎶 WE WON WE WON WE WON

hidgens backstory oh my fucking god. what the hell this man has suffered more than jesus

the songs are amazing I wasn’t expecting to want to buy the album but now I actually need it their vocals are all SO GOOD mariah bryce and kim are absolutely incredible

bill and ted are on a date and you cannot convince me otherwise (I am delusional). also I love that ted loved it bc he was fucking INTO IT in tgwdlm

still need to know why hailey was dumping ass so much

EXCUSE ME WHO ARE YOU

I love the detail that paul didn’t want to go with bill lmfao

ted got brutally murdered again. I knew they would do it but it’s still hilarious

they really said ✨dutch angles ✨ huh

their real stage manager played the stage manager 😭 I love it he has a self insert hatchetfield oc

linda’s the only person who auditioned but didn’t get in lmfao hidgens really said #eat the rich

I love ruth SO MUCH rip queen (again). lauren managed to make her even more cute and pathetic than she is npmd, what a top notch blorbo 100/10

COURTNEY THRASH’S GIRLFRIEND AS A WORKIN’ GIRL SHE’S COME SO FAR

bailey wearing his uniform and taking his gun to a community theatre production why is he a himbo and why do I love him

I know I’ve already said this but sweet jesus mariah and kim’s voices are actually the best things ever they are so perfect in every way

grace just cannot do anything without discovering her passion for violent murder and lethal weapons and honestly girlboss

“our wet sinewy bodies” “I just came”

UP TO MY AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS

hidgens’ death scene was absolutely stunning oh my god

the fact that richie and grace went together to support ruth?? so cute to me. this obviously isn’t in the npmd timeline so it’s just adorable to me that they actually became friends in this timeline, I’m obsessed.

also they had an opportunity for pete and steph and tom and becky to be there on dates but OH WELL

THE ZOMBIES WERE TERRIFYING. OH MY GOD I AM LOSING MY MIND OVER HOW AMAZING THAT SCENE WAS THE MAKEUP THE VOICE EFFECTS I JUST I C CN AHSNJDJSKUDEJ

ALSO THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE NO IDEA IF THEY REALLY ARE GHOSTS OR IF HIDGENS IS JUST CRAZY AND HALLUCINATING OR IF THEY’RE DEMONS IN DISGUISE AND “CHAD” IS A LORD IN BLACK OR A DIFFERENT BEING OR WHAT LIKE YOU HAVE NO IDEA. OPEN-TO-INTERPRETATION PLOT POINTS YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS

[soaps-mohawk]

Oh that makes so much sense!! Institutes did kinda sound like a 'we make perfect omegas' in a bad way type of thing!! SO MUCH POTENTIAL FOR OMEGA! READER ANGST AHHHHHHHHHH

That makes me wonder even more about how the omega's felt about each other, did they empathize with each other since they were all in the same boat?? Did they have toxic competitions with each other to be given to 'good' alpha's??? WHAT WAS WITH THE GIRL OMEGA! READER KISSED???

I just want to take the fic and shake it between my teeth like a rabid dog because of the LORE 😩😩 any bits of lore I can get that won't make you spoil the story I will eat like it's the last thing in the world because I am a WHORE for a thought out and well written backstory 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Yeah, that pretty much sums up institutes perfectly. "We make perfect omegas but we are not ethical about it." The saddest thing is most people don't even know what they're like unless they've worked in one, know an omega that went to one that was brave enough to speak up about it, or are an omega that went through one. Unfortunately there's not a lot that can be done in terms of changing institutes (though we'll be seeing here shortly in the fic that there are some things happening in that regard).

As far as the omegas in the institute...it really depends. Omegas can have a lot of personality (as we can see in the fic) but the institutes try and squash that as much as possible. I think things could go either way. I do think they have a lot of empathy for each other, especially in the beginning as they adjust to the institute and its expectations. It's an omega's nature to be nurturing and empathetic and put a bunch of them together in the same space going through the same things, it's hard to keep those natural instincts from coming through.

That being said, again, personalities differ and there could be some that see it as a competition. Especially in institutes like the reader went to where most of these omegas came from rich/powerful families and they know that's what their being groomed for. Of course some of them are going to turn it into a competition to get the highest scores and see any omega that's better than them as a threat. But I think over time that sort of dies down as they all begin to have their personalities broken down and get taught how to be subservient and obedient. I think it would be more common in younger, more newly presented omegas to have that sort of competitive nature, but as the time passes and they go through all those lessons and tests, they begin to kind of realize no one is on their side but their fellow omegas and those natural empathetic bonds start to form.

Haha, yeah, so idk if anyone put two and two together but the omega that the reader kissed is the same omega that gave her the sweatshirt. That was why she volunteered herself to do it. I don't feel like I explained it very well in the fic, but not every omega is obviously going to be as good or willing to learn as the reader was. (Part of reader's backstory plays into that but we'll be getting into that more in detail later in the fic.) Some omegas that might have grown up differently or had more influence or freedom in their lives before they presented might have a bit of a struggle conforming to the standards institutes hold, and some might even resist it. Essentially there was an omega in the same age group as the reader that had grown up with more "progressive" ideas, was seen as rebellious and really fought the institute and its attempts to conform all these omegas to the standards they hold.

Of course she had a bit of an impact on a few of the omegas, one of them being the omega that reader had a crush on, who was one of reader's bunk mates (they slept four to a room in bunks so those were kind of who they were the closest to). She's the one that got the book smuggled in for her and didn't want an alpha to be her first kiss so reader volunteered to do it for her. I do think she knew how the reader felt about her, but it's sort of an impossible situation. They both knew they'd probably get picked up fast and they'd probably never see each other again (which is basically what happened for one of them) so there was no way they could have pursued those feelings without major heartbreak after. And of course institutes strictly forbid omegas forming bonds with each other for that reason.

I like to think that omega wound up in a nice place with a good alpha and is living a happy life. She still thinks fondly on the reader and probably would be jealous that the reader got to move to England lol.

I'm such a whore for world building you have no idea. Some things I so desperately want to talk about but also...we're nowhere near that in the fic yet 😫 I just want to spill everything but then the suspense and the angst and the shock and surprise in the fic will be ruined so I have to keep my mouth shut lmao.

[pankowblues]

Never Leave Me Again

Request by - @nemesyaaa

Summary - After leaving OBX cause of parents divorce your bsf JJ cuts you and when you come back things changed.

No warnings

Driving through the streets of Outer Banks is weird since you have not been here for 4 years, well I mean especially after your parents got a divorce, a very nasty one. My mom married a rich man up in California and I lived there for 4 years and now all of us are moving back to the Outer Banks. The divorce led me to having to move from my home and my friends, the Pogue's. Which leads me to my next thing, my best friend, JJ Maybank, well let me say my friend now since he stopped contacting me. I really don't know what happened I mean one random night he just stopped contacting me and to this day I am confused.

The car comes to a stop which pulls me from my thoughts. We're stopped outside a huge colonial house which bigger than someone needs for a 3 people. I get out the car and get my suitcase and start walking to the front door. Once I make it to the front door, I stare at it collecting my thoughts. To going full kook the Pogue's always said.

I open the door to find Sarah and Kie.

"OMG girls I missed you so much!”

Sarah and Kie launch themselves at me which leads me to almost falling backwards but I caught myself.

"We missed you so much!" Sarah squeals

Kie joins in "Even the Pogue's missed you a lot!".

After our little reunion Sarah brought up the bonfire tonight.

It's currently 8pm and I'm waiting for the twinkie and if someone looked at me right now they would think I’m crazy with the shit eating grin on my face. Only cause im excited to see all the other pogues mainly JJ. I stop thinking once I hear the twinkie honk. I see all the boys standing outside the twinkie and I smile at JJ but my smile drops right when I see a blond bitch standing right next to JJ grabbing onto him like a koala. I ignore it for a second and go sprinting towards the rest of the pogues. I dont even know who I’m going towards anymore but I end up in John B’s arms.

"I missed you so much b!"

"I missed you too Y/N/N".

I let go of John B and hug Pope and I step in front of JJ. I let out a breath I didnt know I was holding in

"JJ."

“Y/N."

I lauch myself at him and we both hold onto each other for the time in what feels like forever. I missed his so much as I hide my face in the crook of his neck. We stay like this for about 45 more seconds till a high-pitched voice breaks us up

"JJ thats enough of hugging the girl"

JJ backs up from me and mouths sorry and I just nod.

It’s around 1am and to say I’m not drunk would be a lie. I found a guy and I’m dancing with him but he doesn’t feel the same as jj. I haven’t seen him in a while so I’m guessing he went off with that chick to do god knows what. For some reason thinking about them makes my blood boil. I talked to Sarah and she said that he got with the chick cause he needed someone to get over with the whole thing of me leaving but I doubt that. I start to grind my hips against him but he really shows no care back

“maybe he’s just a douche” I mumble beneath my breath.

“Hey um I’m going to go get a drink I’ll be back” he says

“um ok I guess” and with that he walks away.

It’s been an 20 minute and he’s still not back so I start looking for him and I see the most unexpected thing today. Jj yelling the fuck out of him.

“Don’t. Talk. To. Her.” he says but before anything gets out of hand I run up to him and pull him away.

“JJ what’s your fucking problem!” I yell at him

He grabs my wrist and pulls me somewhere more private and says “not here”. I don’t know where the hell we are but we’re in a storage closet I’m guessing?.

“JJ I was actually talking to the guy!” I really wasn’t.

“He’s not fucking good for you trust me!”

“Oh like you would know god why can’t I try finding a boyfriend but it’s totally ok to have your tongue down a chicks throat”

“because I still like you god damn it! I know he’s not the one cause I’m the one!”

“Then why the fuck would you stop contacting me”

“I started liking so much to the point I couldn’t handle you being away and I regretted not telling you earlier before you left”

“so why are with that girl?” I ask barely a whisper and not really comprehending the fact our faces are so close together.

“Because I was trying to get over you I starting liking you so much- scratch that loving you so much to point where I had to cut you off cause I didn’t think you would ever come back like I said already”

Maybe Sarah was right after wards.

“Kiss me.” I say.

He smashes his lips onto me like it’s the last time he’ll ever see me. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine

“Be my girlfriend Y/N”

“Only if you break up with her”

“Anything for you”. I kiss him again

“JJ”

“yea?”

“Never leave me again”

“I promise I’ll never leave you again”

By the end of the day I explained the whole reason I left with JJ apologizing numerous times about ghosting me, JJ broke up with the girl, and apparently pope won a bet about us getting together. In the end I always knew me and JJ would find our way back to each other and I love him to the moon and back.

- this is my first fic I’ve ever written and I absolutely hate im actually so sorry but if you read please leave your honest opinions and don’t be scared to be rude and credits to @anitalenia for the divider, if your looking for a dividers look on her account there are cute ones on there 💗

[egodoll]

PROMPT SIX: muse playlist.

#EGODOLL: it's so confusing sometimes to be a girl,

001. are you satisfied?, marina

high achiever, don't you see? / baby, nothing comes for free / they say i'm a control freak, driven by a greed to succeed / nobody can stop me

doah's main concern in life is making her parents proud. making her parents proud means succeeding at all costs—even if it means constantly fighting with your sisters to remain on top.

002. oh no!, marina

one track mind, one track heart / if i fail, i'll fall apart / maybe it is all a test / 'cause i feel like i'm the worst / so i always act like i'm the best

most people see doah as someone self-absorbed, egotistical... and well, yes! she is! but her confidence is rather... fragile. while she is confident and does love herself (most of the time), she overcompensates for the insecurity that midas' cutthroat training environment instilled in her by acting like she's the best—by being so comically vain.

003. so hot you're hurting my feelings, caroline polachek

i cry on the dance floor, it's so embarrassing / don't send me photos, you're makin' it worse / 'cause you're so hot, it's hurtin' my feelings

this is one's a bit unserious, but this is very much the attitude doah has when she's attracted or in love with someone! i think it very much summarizes her personality and way of thinking lmaooo she's just a girl...

004. girl, so confusing, charli xcx & lorde

people say we're alike, they say we got the same hair / it's you and me on the coin the industry loves to spend

@honeyhues... this one's for hani 🩷 being compared so heavily to the girl you thought of as your best friend, as your sister... well, it's a different kind of pain. a pain that midas (and the industry, and netizens) unfortunately loved to exploit!

005. sympathy is a knife, charli xcx & ariana grande

it's a knife when a friend is suddenly steppin' on your throat / it's a knife when you're finally on top / 'cause logically the next step is they wanna see you fall, fall, fall

the realization that being on top doesn't mean being protected, being safe—the higher you fly, the harder they fall. she never believed in that saying until it happened to her.

006. everything is romantic, charli xcx & caroline polachek

i'm tryin' to shut off my brain, i'm thinking 'bout work all the time / it's like you're living the dream, but you're not living your life

when she was the favorite, when she was on top—she was living the dream, but she was always thinking about work, thinking about what she should do next, thinking about how she could protect her spot at the top. she was living the dream, but it was eating her up on the inside.

007. mood ring, lorde

i'm tryna get well from the inside / plants and celebrity news / all the vitamins i consume / let's fly somewhere eastern, they'll have what i need

losing her spot as midas' favorite wasn't easy for doah. honestly, it broke her—and it still tears her up inside. but doah isn't really that equipped to deal with such strong, devastating emotions—and i do think she tried to employ some magical, spiritual thinking at some point to make herself better...

008. my kink is karma, chappell roan

oh god, and it's coming around / yeah, it's coming around, oh god / people say i'm jealous, but my kink is karma

...but spiritual thinking didn't really help doah! instead, doah's decided to seek comfort in something else—in the good ol' saying "what goes around, comes back around." at her core, doah is extremely petty—and she wants nothing more than to see those who hurt her get hurt right back.

009. 15 minutes, sabrina carpenter

when my time's up, baby / i'll leak some pictures, maybe say somethin' batshit crazy / i'll do it, don't you make me

as i said, shin doah is petty. a spoiled little rich girl at her core, she's very used to getting her way, and she's not that fond of things not going her way. the idea of her "15 minutes" being up does not sit well with her, and she's not going to sit back and let it happen so easily—even if her initial response to her fall was wallowing in her own self-pity. now, she's feeling a bit vengeful about the whole ordeal—and more than willing to do something "batshit crazy" to get her spot back.

010. this is why we can't have nice things, taylor swift

why'd you have to go and rain on my parade? / you stabbed me in the back while shakin' my hand / and therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you / get you on the phone and mind-twist you / so i took an axe to a mended fence

@honeyhues... this one's for hani too 🩷 yeah... this song very much summarizes how she feels about hani... i think, right now, doah has metaphorically took an axe to their friendship. she doesn't really see a way for their friendship to be mended... forgiveness is Very, very, very out of reach for doah right now... she 100% blames hani for everything (as she kinda should... but she probably blames her for shit she has nothing to do with, too)... idk... she's just feeling very petty and bitter towards hani! that's it! that's the analysis!

011. look what you made me do, taylor swift

and then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure / maybe i got mine, but you'll all get yours

@honeyhues @.chotaejoon @.goeunsung... as i said, she's feeling very petty, very bitter, very betrayed by this situation and she's not going to rest until she gets back on top! revenge is her sweetest joy!

012. true story, ariana grande

i'll play the villain if you need me to / i'll play whatever part you need me to / and i'll be good in it, too

@.midaslabels @.chotaejoon @.goeunsung @.thepublic... this summarizes her desperation to be loved, to be on top, to have that attention, to be the favorite... doah needs to be the best, she needs to succeed, she needs to make her parents proud... and she's willing to play whatever part they ask her to get back on top, to make them all proud

013. handlebars, jennie & dua lipa

i trip and fall in love, just like a tuesday drunk / i always go all in, all in, all in / over the handlebars, hitting the ground so hard / if i'm alone, i'm fallin', fallin', fallin'

this is how doah loves: she falls hard and fast—and she doesn't like to be alone. all doah has ever wanted—aside from making her parents proud—is to love and be loved, and when she's single, it weighs on her more than it should.

being so desperate for love, and falling in love so hard and fast—it's made doah a little co-dependent in both relationships and friendships. she's the type of girl that hangs onto friendships with her exes because she can't bare to let them go entirely. it's also led to her jumping into relationships very quickly—only for those people to be entirely the wrong person for her.

her desperation for love doesn't end at just romantic love. she wants to be loved by her friends, by her fans, by the public, by the executives. she just wants to love, to be loved, to feel loved—or else she feels empty.

014. jealousy, jealousy, olivia rodrigo

i know their beauty's not my lack / but it feels like that weight is on my back / and i can't let it go / co-comparison is killing me slowly

this is the thought that keeps her up at night—that maybe the reason she lost that spot is not only because of hani's backstabbing—maybe she's lacking something. maybe she's no longer good enough. maybe she's not capable of the best.

when she was on top, being compared to hani—or the other girls—didn't bother her. the comparisons always leaned in her favor, so she didn't bat an eye. but now these comparisons—they weigh on her, and she finds herself questioning everything she used to be so confident about.

not that she'll ever admit that.

015. i might say something stupid, charli xcx

i go so cold, i go so cold / 'cause i don't know if i belong here anymore

how doah feels about haute pink if she were to answer honestly. or the realization that doah doesn't feel like she can trust anyone anymore.

[the-badger-mole]

AU Bot Plot: Can't Waste a Good Party

It was a disastrous wedding. Katara had been dubious about accepting a catering job for her older brother's college friend's wedding, having been warned by so many other wedding vendors never to work for friends and family. She thought it would be fine since she'd never actually met Zuko, and his insanely rich family had offered her a generous bonus on top of her full fee. It had been hard to turn down, especially since her business was still so new.

The wedding, Sokka had told his sister, was between Zuko and his off again/on again girlfriend, Mai. Privately, Sokka had told Katara, he wasn't thrilled that Zuko was marrying a woman Sokka had dubbed an emotional succubus, but Mai's father owned a company that Zuko's father wanted closer professional ties to. Hence why Ozai Kaji was spending a fortune on his son's wedding. Katara thought it was a bit antiquated use an arranged marriage that way, but it was none of her business as long as the check cleared. And it did.

Now Katara was glad that she'd added a no refunds clause to her contract. The bride hadn't shown up. No call; no note; no friend to tell Zuko and the gathered families what happened. She just didn't show up. And poor Zuko was left standing at the altar looking hurt, embarrassed and confused while around him the guests were in an uproar.

Sokka, proving himself the right choice for best man, snuck Zuko out the back while Ozai and Mai's father, Ukano shouted back and forth about what this meant for their business ventures. The wedding was taking place at a sprawling resort hours away from anyone's home, so leaving wasn't really an option that night. Sokka had made a call, a few guests who'd been sat in the back row snuck out as the warring families hurled insults and abuses back and forth. No one else had even thought of the reception yet.

Katara took no convincing, and with the wedding planner still tied up at the ceremony venue, there was no one to stop a party from happening. Sokka and Zuko's uncle, Iroh, convinced the jilted groom that he needed to eat, and there was no sense in letting good food go to waste. Iroh had offered to sponsor the bar that evening as a wedding present, and saw no need to change that plan, though now he paid the venue owner to keep out anyone else from the wedding unless he or Sokka said they could come in. They had some serious bucking up to do that evening.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, man," Sokka was saying as he pressed a glass of whiskey into Zuko's hand. "But I've gotta tell ya, I always thought Mai was wrong for you. She was so mean! I couldn't understand why you put up with her. Father or no."

"Sokka's right," said Suki. "I know you kept saying she made you happy, but all you two ever talked about was how miserable you were."

"I never said I was miserable," Zuko protested. "I said we hate the same things."

"Oh, and that's such a healthy foundation for a marriage," Suki snorted.

"Well, we can't all be you two," Zuko waved between Sokka and Suki. "So grossly into each other."

"Oh, trust me," Suki raised her brow at Zuko. "You and Mai were plenty gross." Zuko scowled at his friends, and then slumped back into his seat with a groan.

"I'll never find anyone else," he said. "Mai was the only one who would even consider marrying me."

"You'll find someone else," Sokka promised. "Dude, you're a total catch! Suki, back me up."

"You are an absolute hottie," Suki affirmed. "If I wasn't madly in love with Sokka, I'd take a run at you myself."

"Alright, that's enough!" Sokka tossed a crumpled napkin at Suki.

"What?" Suki laughed. "I was just cheering him up."

"I'm glad you two are able to find things to laugh about," Zuko cut in. "It's not like my life is falling apart or anything."

"Sorry, man," Sokka said, patting Zuko's back. "We're just trying to help."

"Then let me go back to the hotel," Zuko snapped.

"It's better to lay low here," Sokka insisted. "Iroh's got the front door covered, so none of your crazy family can get in. If you go back to the hotel, everyone's going to be hounding you. We've got a party of ten here with no crazy aunts or in-laws or fathers. We've got food, we've got booze. Once Jin figures out how to connect her phone to the sound system, we'll have all the sad music you want." Sokka looked around conspiratorially and then whispered to Zuko. "Plus, I have it on good authority that Jin might be happier than most that your wedding got cancelled, if you know what I mean."

"Sokka," Suki chided.

"What, baby?" he looked at Suki with wide eyes. "I didn't say you told me."

"Sokka!"

"What's my brother done now?"

"Hey! Here's the world's greatest chef!" Sokka cheered. "Is dinner ready or what?"

"I was just coming to let you know we'll be setting it out soon. I'm sorry it wasn't ready. I was anticipating more time." Zuko turned to say something, but then he froze.

"It's fine," Suki said quickly. "The appetizers are delicious."

"And the bar's open, so we're all good," Sokka said. Katara raised her brow at her brother.

"I see," she said. Then she turned to Zuko with what she hoped was a professionally sympathetic face. "I'll get the food set up, and then I'll be out of your way."

"You can stay," Zuko said hurriedly. He ducked his head and shrugged. "If you want. It's...it's not like you need to work the reception anymore."

"I don't want to intrude," Katara started.

"No, stay!" Suki insisted. "You've worked hard. You deserve a break. Right, Zuko?"

"Yeah, sis!" Sokka pressed. "Join the party! Zuko just dodged a nuclear missile. We need to fill him with booze and food and cake until he recognizes this was a good thing."

"Sokka!" Katara gasped. She rolled her eyes and turned to Zuko. "I apologize for my brother. He was taught better, but I guess it didn't stick."

"It's fine," Zuko said. "And it's fine if you stay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Suki said, pulling out the seat between her and Zuko.