#the energy of an obnoxious teen?

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Good reveal au, where after learning phantom's identity and realizing the atrocities that the GIW have committed (or alternatively, ethical science au, where they find out the GIW plagarized them), the fenton parents decided to create the 'ultimate ghost-ending weapon' and sell it to the agents.

They go absolutely overboard, describing to the agents in meticulous detail how it evaporates any ghost it hits near-instantly and describing it quite ruthlessly in the blueprints, and soon the GIW have raplaced all their main weapons with the new gun.

Except it doesn't actually kill ghosts. It's the Fenton Bazooka. You know, the one that creates a portable portal to suck the ghost back into the ghost zone? What they actually did was retool it slightly to make it look more grusome than it actually is. They even added a beacon in Phantom's Keep, which all Fenton Bazookas will target when they open a portal, so the ghosts are always delivered to the keep.

From there, Phantom stationed an emergency medical team at the keep to treat the many injured and ragged ghosts that the GIW 'destroyed,' and to explain what just happened.

What they didn't anticipate was that now that the GIW have a mass-produced weapon that they believed would effectively eradicate ghosts, they would go on the offensive. They have a number of cities they've been monitoring but didn't want to get involved in without better tools.

One of those cities is Gotham.

And the Bats are ectocontaminated enough to register as ghosts.

Batman witnessed several of his children get evaporated by green energy weapons within mere moments of each other. He's absolutely gutted. Devastated. They didn’t even stand a chance.

He'll get his revenge, and it's frighteningly easy to track the weapon to private subcontractors. The Doctors Fenton, in Illinois. Their research calls for the genocide of all ghost kind, and apparently, that war started by killing his own children.

His children will not die in vain.

He gets to Amity Park and finds the Engineer's Nightmare of a building that is Fentonworks, but that night, before he can hack through the security and break in, one of the windows opens.

It's one of his kids that he had watched evaporate before his very eyes. They give him a silent signal of one of their identifying security codes and gesture for him to come inside.

Is it a trap? A prank in poor taste? Utterly genuine?

He goes through the window.

All of his dead kids are there, wearing borrowed pajamas and only their dominoes to conceal their identities. Daniel Fenton (son of the Fentons, this is his bedroom, has voiced a few arguments against his parent's views, but still an unknown) is among the crowd of teens and young adults, twirling on an office chair and obnoxiously sipping a capri sun.

"First thing you need to know, Bats," Daniel says after finishing his drink, "is that my parents are absolutely NOT genocidal ectophobic scumbags, and that is the reason why your kids are still alive."

[malereadermaniac]

Arranged Marriage ~ Byakuya Togami x Male Reader

The Togami's never get a choice in their partner, the choice is made for them to the benefit of the family; whether that be for more heirs to be made, or to join forces with other families Partially inspired by 'The swan princess' - 'This is my idea' Regular, non-despair au - Top!Byakuya x Bottom!Reader word count: 1.3k Sfw & Nsfw (headcannon form) / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

You had known Byakuya since you were both very young. Everyone knows of the affluent Togami's, and most people know that arranged marriages are common for them; however you wouldn't expect the arrangements to start so early. Ever since the age of seven, your summers were either spent within the Togami's main mansion, or the Togami's spent their summers in the (l/n)'s mansion. Your parents (the powerful, yet less than Togami, (l/n)'s) had done everything in their power to ensure that you were to marry into the Togami's via Byakuya; from suggesting a powerful alliance to his parents in meetings, to outright proposing that you two boys wed. Shockingly, Byakuya's parents were very open to the idea - your family was the next most powerful in the country, and it would not only benefit the Togami empire but also the family's face in the public eye; a gay marriage within the mostly traditional Togami family would surely uplift their image. So, every single summer since you two boys were seven has been spent together; whether you like it or not!

And good lord did you both hate spending time together. Unlike the BORING Togami heir, you had a bit more pep in your step - which inevitably led to you annoying the hell out of the affluent progeny. You would try to convince the blonde to play some game with you but ultimately get ignored in favour of whatever book the boy was fixating on that day, or Byakuya would play along with your game but make fun of you the whole time! And as the two of you got older, your relationship stayed the same - mutual dislike, for changing reasons however...

At the age of 14, Byakuya found himself still annoyed by you, yet not due to the sound of your voice of your obnoxiously high levels of energy, rather because you were one of the few people on his level! In fact, you were above his level most of the time. No matter what the young blonde would do, you would one-up him constantly; you have won almost every game of cards the two of you have played, the two of you have always tied on your 'over-summer' academics, and the affluent adolescent could never impress you with his riches due to your parents buying you things to try and impress the Togami's! Byakuya had grown up with the idea that he needs to be above everyone else in all facets of life, so you coming along and beating him at everything made the rich teen see RED. However, every night, of every summer you two were spending together, Togami's parents would remind him that the two of you were pre-destined to be together, and that the blonde 'must accommodate for his future'.

Later, at the age of 18, your presence annoyed Byakuya for different reasons. This time, for reasons he chose not to think too deeply about. It was a known fact throughout the entire country that as you two young boys had grown up, puberty had done you both very nicely - tabloids and online forums wouldn't stop discussing how dashing the Togami heir looked in recent photos, and many times you were also discussed. Your perfect skin, your lips, your body, your hair, your personality; you were praised and adored more and more everyday. Byakuya wasn't jealous of this though, he'd get hit on constantly at events and other such things. What specifically annoyed the blonde was the fact that people acted on their liking of your looks; and worse, that you responded to advances. Again, Byakuya would never analyse his emotions too much, because he'd realise that he was in fact jealous that other men were getting your attention, however he would feel irked and pissed off whenever he saw you flirt/be flirted at by staff. The heir has fired many body guards of his and house staff due to them taking a liking to you, and Byakuya has also been a dick in passing to staff at your own home which flirts with you. But again, Byakuya's jealousy of others receiving your affection isn't something he dwelled on, very rarely would the handsome man think about his feelings late at night and spend hours spiraling about the possibility of him actually liking you!

At the age of 20, it fully dawned on Byakuya just how charming you truly were. Sure, you were the heir of an inferior family, and an annoying man at that, however during the summer you had both turned 20 the blonde truly couldn't deny his feelings towards you. Byakuya had come a long way from when you were both young boys, he had gone from his father forcing him to kiss your hand every time the two of you met to kissing your hand voluntarily. Byakuya was awe struck by you; not just by your looks, but by your kindness to others (something he'd never though he'd cherish or admire), and also due to the way you complimented him so nicely - like two pieces of a puzzle, you and Byakuya just fit together, not overlapping but rather harmonising. The smug look on both your parents' faces was enough to make you two men want to argue once again, just to wipe the satisfied looks off of their faces, however you simply couldn't. The summer you two turned 20 was the first time the two of you didn't mind spending time together. Byakuya had finally put down his books in favour of talking to you and getting to know you, and you couldn't deny just how attractive that was from him; the handsome, rich man was interested in you, and not even sexually like other men you had sneaked around with, but rather he was interested in speaking with you.

At the age of 22, the time had come for you two heirs to fulfill your responsibilities; via inheriting your places as heads of the family, and by marrying each other. But unlike how you'd thought your wedding day would go as children, you cried tears of joy rather than of frustration - Byakuya spoke his vows with truth coating his tongue and lips, and you both celebrated the day rather than giving fake speeches and smiles. And the night of your wedding was well spent as well; don't you worry!

As you'd expect, Byakuya is so god damn DOMINANT

His body is also sooo perfect - slim, muscular, tall, he's really just made to ooze sex appeal

The blonde barely has to even speak in sentences to have you on your knees at the foot of your (now) shared bed

His dick is average, a nice fit; skinny and a little veiny, 6-7inches, and his pubes are perfectly trimmed and well kept

Byakuya loves to always feel in control, his masculine fingers threatening through your hair to control your pace as you suck his dick with surprisingly good skill

He also really likes to eat you out, the small noises you make egging Byakuya on as he pushes his warm, wet tongue into your hole along with two of his long fingers

This man is also so into dirty talk, calling you nasty and whorish for enjoying his dick ramming into your ass

But the moment Byakuya lays his eyes on you as your back arches up off of the bed and your dick twitches as you shoot your load..? all the sexy man can say is 'pretty'

Exhibitionism is also something your HUSBAND enjoys on the low - your poor staff!

Seriously, Byakuya loves either getting walked in on as he's wrecking you in doggy, or he really likes to call staff in when they need something, making them watch as you keep sucking his dick under his desk/ as he cums inside of you/ as Byakuya makes out with you desperately as the two of you dry-hump into each other

But in summary, Byakuya can't get enough of you, he'd never thought that he'd be able to say that: he fucking loves you...

[colorlessjayblog]

Here's a Destiel prompt based on a doodle I did but also Chappell Roan:

Dean Winchester is your average picture perfect American boy. Tall, blonde, football team quarterback, Kansas sweetheart with a little brother he's way too over protective of, and a southern drawl he swears he doesn't exaggerate. He's brash and rude, his confidence making him an easy target for over excited crowds and the occasion fights. The girls at school want him when he gives them a wink and a smile, and most guys envy him. Wish they were him.

But Dean had his eyes set on the unattainable

Castiel Novak. the Student body vice president who seems to fly through school like he was above it all. But not in the obnoxious 'I'm better than you' way in most teen movies. No, Castiel radiates an energy. One of pure intent, kindness, and joy that makes people fall for his hypnotic blue eyes

People like Dean, Castiel's best friend, and the guy he confides in more often than not

And Dean hates that he does. Because Castiel,for all his intelligence, was as clueless as they come

So whenever Castiel asks him to wingman for him

It's months worth of heartache and fake smiles as he watches Castiel pull every trick Dean taught him

Because Dean Winchester? He's the practice boy

-----

Castiel, wanting to the full college experience, asks his best friend Dean to help on how to date/seduce girls (Since Dean is really good at it and has been in relationships before. But only to distract from his massive crush on Cas)

And Dean, being a good friend, walks Cas through every step regardless of how much it hurts to flirt with Cas, only for Cas to use those same words and actions on girls

And one day, Cas asks Dean how to kiss. If he'll be a good kisser. Castiel's self conscious about it. Self deprecating and confused cause his lips are always chapped and his hair always a mess. And he's scared he won't close his eyes

And Dean just goes on about how those can be good things. How they're attractive. Blurting out stuff he personally feels about kissing Cas

"Your hair's perfect for kissing, short and soft and perfect to hold"

"If she doesn't like your eyes when you kiss, then she's blind as a bat!"

"Your lips look chapped but I'll bet my Baby they're as soft as the look you get when you see a bee"

"hell! Given the chance, I'd kiss you and I'd be the one left breathless"

And of course, they practice kissing

And Dean was right. It leaves him breathless

Leaves him heartbroken too when he finds Cas kissing Meg the same way a week later

-------

"I can't take it anymore, Cas! I'm so fucking tired of being your goddamn practice dummy!" Dean turns around, finally facing Castiel after he storming off "Yeah, I asked for it. It was fucking stupid to even suggest it, but you can't be so goddamn blind to not see that everything I've said, everything I've taught you, was more then just a shitty flirting lesson to me!"

Castiel stops in his chase, staring at Dean wide eyed as the rain picks up

Dean powers on, pacing and flailing "Fuck me for thinking the way you kissed me meant something then just practice" he laughs humorlessly then lets out a sob

"Fuck, Cas…" Dean looks up. his hand coming down to clutch at his wet shirt. Tears and rain running down his face "It meant something to me… you saying it otherwise doesn't change that… it just makes it hurt"

Castiel stared wide eyed and frozen. His mind flashes back to every interaction, every little touch, every word said between them

And all he could muster up was

"Dean…"

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Stuck

~1.5k words || rating: teen || cws: dissociation; unlabeled neurodivergencies and mental illnesses

He’s never quite sure how it happens, seeming to always sneak up on him. One minute he’s up and moving around, usually cleaning, organizing, or just meandering around the house. The next, he’s lying on the floor in the middle of the living room. He tries to move but can’t. Not because he’s physically restrained, like when the rope from the Russians cut into his wrists or how the vines constricted his neck. 

No, Steve’s just lying here on the floor, trapped in his own mind. His eyes are raw, stinging with dryness. Painful tingles pop throughout his right arm from where his head rests heavy on his bicep. His hip and shoulder ache. He can’t move or talk or blink. Can barely think. He’s not in his body. 

He’s lost. Stuck.

Getting stuck means losing time, chunks of days lost to a void. It means missing meals and unanswered phone calls. Growing up, it felt like an escape. A safe way to pass the time between eating and sleeping. He’d come back to himself, sometimes hours later, sore and hungry, mustering up energy he didn’t have. Once, his parents discovered him frozen on the ground. Mom’s yelling and Dad’s foot shoving his side brought him jolting back into his body. Like waking from a nightmare, rising from the dead chased by panic. 

It happens less now, but still catches up to him when he’s exhausted. He thinks today it was the kids– they were particularly obnoxious. Yelling excitedly about Eddie’s new campaign ideas, trucking in snow from outside after building a demo-snowman. Cooking for them, cleaning after them, getting them home safe.

Yeah, he gets how he maybe overdid it a bit. 

But with Eddie here, it’s easier. His sweetheart always knows how to help, usually checking up on him after stressful days. Hopefully he comes to check on him soon.

Because Steve can’t move. Or talk. Or even blink.

The sun is starting to set.

~~~

The Party were extra chaotic today, pushing him to the fringes of patience. He’s thrilled they’re excited about his newest campaign ideas, but god, did they have to be so unbearably loud about it? Dustin’s screeches are still rattling between his ears. Not to mention the soreness he feels from helping the kids build a snowman demo-thing and the ensuing snowball fight. 

The idea of an occult campaign has been percolating in Eddie’s brain for weeks, and after the day he’s had, he’s lost to the research. Perched on a chair upstairs in their bedroom, books are scattered across the desk and onto their bed next to him. Typically, creative deep-dives restore his energy after a long day. But when he’s well and truly exhausted, he’ll lose hours at a time to the work. Getting stuck, according to Steve. And yeah, Eddie can see how that fits.

Growing up, Eddie would lose hours throwing himself into his latest and greatest project, whether it be drawing, playing guitar, writing campaigns, reading or even the time he tried juggling. Entranced by his newest obsession, his surroundings would fade into the background. He’d forget to do his homework, to eat or drink. Hell, sometimes he’d forget to pee. Wayne’d drop a gentle hand to his shoulder– pulling him back to reality– and he’d take off like a shot to the bathroom. Every sensation hitting all at once: bladder about to burst, stomach rumbling, dry mouth, headache, body stiff and achy. 

As he gets older, it’s still a frequent occurrence. So Robin had given him the idea of setting alarms, saying it helps her remember to take breaks while studying. And he’s thankful, because it works like a charm when he actually remembers. But when he forgets, his Stevie takes care of him. 

He’ll find Eddie crouched awkwardly by the desk, eyes manic, only seeing what’s in front of him. Eddie will eat or drink anything Steve gives him, barely tasting whatever it is, just as long as he can see it. And Steve lets him be for at least a few hours so he can burn energy into whatever project he's lost himself in. All Steve cares is that he’s fed and hydrated. Usually, Eddie comes to slowly, with Steve’s fingers gently carding through his hair, or soft strokes up and down his spine.

Now Eddie breaks his own musings, eyes strained, hungry, and needing to stretch. He can’t help but wonder why his sweetheart hasn’t checked on him. 

Moonlight is shining through the window.

~~~

It’s eerily quiet as Eddie makes his way down the stairs. He half expects to find Steve stress-baking, but the kitchen is dark. 

So he checks the garage– the car is still here. And the backyard– he never sits by the pool alone. Then the front porch– maybe he went out for a smoke.

Guilt eats at Eddie as he finds his beautiful boy on the living room floor, curled into himself.

Stuck. 

He hates finding Steve like this– stuck and lost like Eddie’s engrossed fantasies. Yet so, so different. 

The first time Eddie found him, unresponsive and immovable, he spiraled into a panic so strong Steve had broken free of his own melancholy, finding Eddie hyperventilating and sobbing in the midst of a flashback. Too much like Chrissy. Like Patrick and Nancy. 

They'd talked about it. And Eddie had appreciated afterwards how Steve struggled to describe what being stuck feels like, why it happens, what to do about it. It'd helped. 

So on grey days, long nights, the holidays, or when the kids are extra rowdy, Eddie looks for the signs. He's been good about getting Steve to slow down before it's too late. 

But on rare occasions, there will be a day like today. When it’s too much for both of them.

Eddie doesn't know how long his baby’s been lying here. Doesn't know when he ate or drank or even blinked. Because he’d holed himself up, desperate for time alone to just think. To be with himself after spending all day surrounded by people. But he forgot to set an alarm, assuming Steve would be there.

He focuses on his sweetheart, slowly kneeling down next to him so as not to startle him. Remembers all of the tips and tricks Steve needs. 

"Hey honey," Eddie whispers, close enough to be present but not overwhelming. "Don't worry baby we'll get you unstuck I promise. I'm going to reach out and grab your hand now ok?" 

He continues to whisper gentle praises and reassurances as he holds Steve's hand. It's limp for a time, and Eddie is hungry, but he doesn't stop. Time is lost to them both again, until he feels a slight squeeze on his fingers. Steve finally blinks, slow and hard. 

"Hey big boy, love to see those pretty, long eyelashes.” He smiles down at his baby, honeyed hazel eyes slowly refocusing. “Alright, once for no and two for yes: do you want me to help you onto the couch?" 

A full minute passes before Eddie feels two gentle squeezes to his fingers. 

"That's great sweetheart. I'm gonna tilt you to sit up and we'll get you settled. Then I'm going to ask if you want anything. Ready?" Two squeezes.

They finally get to the couch, and Eddie can already feel a strong sense of relief at just seeing his baby move off the floor. He hears Steve's back pop as they stand, decides he'll give him a massage later. 

It goes on. And on and on. Eddie follows the process of squeezes until Steve is unstuck and back in his body. 

"Water?" Two squeezes.

"Food?" One squeeze.

"Blanket?" Two squeezes. 

Eddie's patience always pays off. He's got Steve set up on the couch, hydrated and relaxed, with his favorite movie playing softly. He’s managed to grab a bowl of cereal for himself. They're cuddled and warm with Steve’s head in his lap. Eddie glides his fingers up and down the sore side of Steve’s body, gently squeezing as he goes.

~~~

Steve comes back to himself surrounded by love. 

His eyes sting and his mouth is dry. He doesn't know what time it is, but notices the sun has long set, moonlight shining through the curtains. The bones in his neck crack and his joints pop as he stretches.

But he's warm under the blankets, tucked into his boyfriend's chest as they watch the teddy bear Star Wars. Eddie's loosely twirling the hairs at the nape of his neck, lightly tugging and sending tingles down his spine. There's a glass of water and crackers on the table in front of him. 

Getting stuck inside his head terrifies him, something he dreads as much as the night terrors. 

But with Eddie, it's easier, happens less often. And when it does, he always wakes up to love.

~~

This was a pure self-indulgence fic. An exact recreation of my relationship with my partner. It fits my headcanon for the boys perfectly (though I'm obviously biased haha)

[steddiehyperfixation]

maybe

@steddie-spooktober day 8: bonfire | 447 words | G |

For hours, the bonfire in Steve's backyard had been a roaring blaze, surrounded by chatter and laughter that burned just as bright, just as free. The kids chased each other around with marshmallow sticks while the older teens drank beer and told ghost stories. Actually, who were they kidding - the adults were just as loud and obnoxious as the kids. Eddie himself was the one who'd started the stick battle in the first place when he attempted to fight Robin for the seat on the bench next to Steve, claiming the smoke was blowing in his eyes where he was sitting. He'd made a valiant effort but ultimately lost and had to claim his victory through subterfuge instead, AKA stealing her spot when she got up to go to the bathroom. He stayed there for the rest of the night. (Robin rolled her eyes and took Eddie's old seat. “There's no smoke here, dumbass,” she said, and Eddie shrugged. Maybe he just wanted to sit by Steve.) 

Now, though, the flames are burning low, the conversation so too, and no one has the energy left to try to get either going again. It's late, the party’s over. One by one the rest of the group disperses, says their goodbyes, until only Steve and Eddie remain by the remains of the fire. Neither of them make any move to follow suit, in no hurry to leave and perfectly content to stay right here sitting on this bench for a little while longer. 

Left alone with the quiet and the dying embers, something seems to shift in the space between them. One glance at Steve now has Eddie feeling all of the sudden breathless and mesmerized. 

Maybe it's the fading firelight, bathing them in a dusky orange glow, sleepy shadows dancing languidly across their faces. Maybe it's the smile Steve gives him, the softest little curve at the corner of his mouth. Or maybe it's just the beers they've had and the joint they'd shared hazing over their minds. Whatever it is, Eddie finds himself leaning in, and Steve meets him halfway. 

Their lips connect, fit together like puzzle pieces. It's nothing more than a slow, gentle press of a kiss, lingering for only a few moments before they separate, but it's enough to leave a warmth rippling through Eddie's chest, a mini bonfire of his own sparked in his heart. 

Maybe later they'll talk about it. Maybe tomorrow they'll face each other with awkward confessions of regret or dramatic confessions of love. 

Or maybe, Eddie thinks as Steve settles his head on his shoulder and entwines their hands together, maybe they don't need to say anything at all. 

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi! Could you do a Batfam x teen reader, where the reader does illegal street race, he sneaks out at night to go those race, and the Batfam found out about it !

Thank you ;)

I sure can do!

Summary: (Y/N) races illegally. The family doesn't know.

Warnings: illegal racing, (Y/N) is skilled, Bruce is mad, Jason is impressed, Damian is proud, Bruce is just done,

(Y/N) loved his dad and he often shared his interests with him. He also shared everything with his brothers. But he was harboring a secret that he couldn't tell anyone. He loved cars, which was not a secret to his family.

What was the secret?

(Y/N) raced illegally. Bruce knew that (Y/N) loved cars, but what he didn't know is that (Y/N) knew how to drive. Bruce had plans to get (Y/N) his license when he turned 18 years old, but when he was so young?

Not happening, at least in Bruce's eyes.

However, (Y/N) had an important night tonight. Last time he was on the track, a cocky bastard thought that he was better than him. (Y/N) gladly excepted.

If there was one thing that Bruce has taught him that he uses everyday, it's the fact that you should fear a person who doesn't brag about his skills. You can easily beat someone who brags. But the one who is silent?

Yeah, that will be a much more difficult task. H

Now he had to make a plan on how to sneak out. He had to wait until they went on patrol and until Alfred went down to the cave to make sure that nobody sees him.

He took his phone and looked into the hall. Alfred went into Bruce's office a few minutes prior, so he must be halfway down. (Y/N) took the opportunity to quietly walk to the garage. He tapped his pocket for the car key, checking to see if his favorite car key was in there.

That car is his baby and he would be damned if he didn't use his favorite. Bruce bought him this car last year and (Y/N) took great care of it. He cleaned it, washed it and took it outside to drive, but only in the property boundaries.

Now it was time to beat that shit head.

(Y/N) sighed in relief as he parked the car. He walked through the crowds, just enjoying the energy. It was just free, no stress, but it was also buzzing with excitement. Usually there were friendly races and talks about upgrades on your cars.

Tonight, it was a race with (Y/N) and the shit head who challenged him. (Y/N) still remembers how he first started. Everyone was nervous to have a Wayne kid, thinking that he wanted to get on the top with a snap of his fingers.

But (Y/N) kept his head down, was humble and respectful towards everyone and he showed his skills to everyone and he proved himself. He became very well liked and he made a good friend here, named Aaron.

" Hey (Y/N)! " Aaron said loudly to drown out the chatter of the other people. " Are you ready for the race? " He asked, smirking as (Y/N) pushed him away.

" Of course I am. " (Y/N) answered, accepting a water bottle from Aaron.

" I still can't believe somebody is so stupid. " Aaron mused to himself, shaking his head. (Y/N) is the best racer here and the fact that somebody new is so dense to think that he could beat him so stupid. Of course, (Y/N) is not invincible and unbeatable, but new people are often warned that (Y/N) is the best racer here.

But that doesn't stop people from challenging him. (Y/N) never hated being challenged, in fact, he loved it. No matter who it was, (Y/N) liked the challenge. Only if they aren't cocky and obnoxious about their skills.

The shit head is obnoxious beyond belief and there was nothing that could change (Y/N)'s mind. Absolutely nothing.

" Did you check the car? " Aaron said as they turned back to walk back to the car.

" I did. Yesterday, I didn't have a chance to do it today. I can't let my dad know what I'm doing. " (Y/N) confessed to Aaron who nodded in sympathy.

Aaron and (Y/N) are good friends and (Y/N) confided that this secret was a big burden on him. He didn't tell him about their night jobs of course, but he did tell Aaron that his dad has a very set moral standing. Of course, nothing is black and gray, but he would be mad if he found out.

" I know, but lets check it now. John should be somewhere near by to check it. "

John is (Y/N)'s mechanic and his mentor in a way. He took (Y/N) under his wing when he has first arrived here. John loves his job more than anything and has admitted that he sees (Y/N) as a son. The two had a very strong bond and they both cared about each other.

" Hey son. " John said, looking at the car. (Y/N) said hey back and gave him a quick side hug.

" How is the car looking? " Aaron asked, walking up to the duo.

" She looks good. Very well taken care of. Good job. " John praised, popping the hood open. (Y/N) smiled to himself, happy that his mentor was pleased.

" The engine looks good. I want you to wipe the floor with that shit head. " John said, closing the hood down.

" Yup. I heard him bragging. " Aaron said, groaning after seeing the shit head move through the crowd towards them. " And he is coming here. " Aaron said and John frowned at the shit head.

" Here is the famous Wayne. " He said, getting into (Y/N)'s face.

" Yup. I would suggest that you step away from me. " (Y/N) said, raising his chin. He level him with a bat glare that Bruce taught him. The shit head stepped back. " Now, if you are here to brag about your non existent skills, go back to wherever you crawled out of. " (Y/N) said and the shit head huffed.

" Go back to your car and get ready. " Aaron said, leading (Y/N) to sit in the car. The shit head moved, his groupie following him.

" If you don't wipe the floor with him, you are going to be in trouble. " John threatened (Y/N), glaring at the stupid kid who was walking away to his car.

" I will wipe the floor with him. " (Y/N) confirmed.

" Good. " Aaron muttered, shaking his head.

(Y/N) laughed as he stopped the car. He won by a landslide and he proves why he is so good. He got out of the car and hugged Aaron tightly.

" You did it! Ha! Take that you ass! " Aaron yelled at the shit head who walked off.

John congratulated (Y/N), giving him a hug. There was cheering and clapping and (Y/N) smiled. This felt nice. This is what he loved about this place.

" I knew you would do it. " John said, patting his back.

Everything felt nice.

" The police is here! "

Now that is not nice. Everyone scrambled to run away, but (Y/N) froze as he heard a familiar rumble of the Batmobile. Oh dear God no. Shit. Hell no. Not happening. Nope. This is not good.

" (Y/N) we have to go. " Aaron said, pulling him with him.

" Leave me. I will hold them off. " (Y/N) said, shaking his head. Aaron and John looked conflicted, but nodded when they saw the look in his eyes.

Turns out it wasn't the police, just Batman and the rest of the family. (Y/N) took a deep breath as he watched the Batmobile come to a stop. At the moment, (Y/N) was scared.

What were they going to say?

His dad stepped out of the car, in his suit, Batman persona on.

" Hey dad. " (Y/N) said sheepishly.

" Please don't tell me you are racing illegally. " He said and (Y/N) looked away.

" Oh no. " Bruce said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

" Do you at least win? " Jason asked as he walked up to (Y/N)'s car.

" I do. " (Y/N) said, eyes still locked on the ground.

" That's my brother. " Jason smiled underneath his mask.

" Good. You would be a disgrace to the family otherwise. " Damian piped in out of nowhere.

Dick sighed, shaking his head. " (Y/N), that is very dangerous. "

" And what you lot do isn't? " (Y/N) retorted, finally finding some strength to talk back.

" And what do you think Tim? " (Y/N) asked. He just looked at the car, then back at (Y/N).

" I mean, you really aren't hurting anybody. You are smart and you know how to avoid trouble. You know how to not get hurt. " Tim explained and Bruce sighed.

" Okay. We are going to have a talk after we all sleep. I'm going to say something that I will regret later. (Y/N) in the Batmobile, Dick you are driving his car. "

(Y/N) wanted to protest, but was silenced with a glare from his father. He sighed quietly as he went to the Batmobile. This is going to be an interesting conversation.

[sofiascripts]

detentions secret soundtrack

mha band au (lemonade mouth inspired) // eventual bakugou x reader

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆ striking a chord!

while tidying up the bandroom in the school’s basement, someone suggests a spontaneous jam session to lighten the mood. the drab room quickly transforms into a lively stage as they perform a kyoka jirou original, with each student adding their own flair to the impromptu performance. the music infuses the group with new energy, lifting their spirits and easing the tension. when the jam session wraps up, ms. midnight, who has been observing from the sidelines, enthusiastically praises their unexpected talent. her encouraging feedback hints at the group’s potential and opens the door to new opportunities. could something so silly really turn into something more?

╰┈➤ tw: not proofread #imsorry </3

the end of the day arrived much faster for the troublesome six than they had hoped. each of them left their respective classrooms, going through their end-of-day rituals before making their way toward the music room, which was inconveniently located in the basement at the farthest end of the school.

to bakugou’s distaste, there was only one way downstairs, meaning he had to walk through every single club that had been banished to the basement. his gaze was fixed ahead, his body rigid as he moved through the narrow, dimly lit halls. students and staff alike quickly moved to the side, avoiding his path, their conversations dying out as they felt the intense energy radiating from him. kaminari, who had run into bakugou in the elevator, took advantage of the clear path and practically skipped through the hallways, trailing closely behind.

when the pair finally reached the end of the hallway, they stopped at an old, battered lemonade vending machine. bakugou reached for his wallet while kaminari obnoxiously patted himself down, feigning surprise at his lack of funds.

kaminari slowly turned to bakugou with a silly grin. “you got me?”

“seriously?” bakugou grumbled, his tone dripping with irritation. kaminari just shrugged, unfazed. the two grabbed their respective drinks, with kaminari forcing their bottles to clink together in a mock cheers before they took a swig. kaminari didn’t bother hiding his obvious distaste for the sour drink, while bakugou struggled to maintain his signature scowl.

“it’s not that bad,” bakugou muttered, though the slight twitch in his eye suggested otherwise.

finally, they entered the music room, where the others were already inside. jirou was facing the small, high window in the top corner of the room, her expression unreadable. momo was beside her, typing furiously on her phone, her face contorted in a deep frown. shinsou sat in front of them, his head resting on his folded arms, already fast asleep. you were across from him, your head hung low as you absentmindedly wiped down a desk.

bakugou and kaminari slowly made their way to some seats in the corner of the room, settling down with a rustle of clothing and the clink of bottles. the room fell silent once more, a heavy, uncomfortable quiet that lingered for only a moment before the door creaked open again, revealing mr. aizawa. he stepped in with a clipboard in hand and a stern expression on his face.

“today, you’ll be doing some housekeeping. some of you have earned multiple days—” his eyes flicked towards jirou for a moment, causing her to sink further into her seat.

“and you will be expected to finish up whatever doesn’t get done today.” groans and sighs filled the room, but the six teens reluctantly got to work. bakugou managed to find a broom and began sweeping the floor, his movements more aggressive than necessary, sending small clouds of dust into the air. the others wisely chose to work on the opposite end of the room. kaminari and jirou dusted off the various instruments while momo sat on the floor, organizing sheet music. you focused on wiping down the teacher’s desk, meticulously cleaning the many trinkets that filled it, while shinsou worked at the shelves, emptying out the cardboard boxes filled with books.

“so… what’s the deal with you and monoma?” kaminari’s voice broke the silence, his curiosity getting the better of him. jirou was quick to slap him on the back of the neck, muttering an exasperated “idiot.”

you gripped the rag a little tighter, your knuckles turning white as you turned to offer them a forced smile. “just a little misunderstanding.”

“a misunderstanding, huh?” shinsou’s smirk grew wider, his voice dripping with amusement. “that’s not what it looked like to me. seemed pretty clear-cut.”

“it’s complicated,” you replied, trying to keep your tone even. “but, in essence, yes, a misunderstanding.” you didn’t owe them an explanation, but their stares were unwavering, pressing for more. the lack of noise from their end of the room suggested that they had all stopped cleaning to face you, their curiosity practically tangible.

the tension in the room thickened, the silence amplified to an almost unbearable degree. all that could be heard was your violent scrubbing, the rag squeaking against the desk, occasionally shifting it with the force of your movements. you tried to gather your thoughts, searching for anything to say that might lighten the mood, but your emotions were hard to keep in check.

all you could think about was the way monoma had looked at you when you tossed that drink in his face. his expression was a mixture of shock and anger, but that was it. that was all that was there. he didn’t look at you like someone who had spent the entire summer with you. no, he looked at you like you were some random psycho who had a bad day and decided to take it out on him.

your grip on the rag tightened further, the fabric digging into your palm as the memories swirled in your mind. the silence continued to stretch on, oppressive and heavy. finally, unable to take it anymore, you muttered under your breath, barely audible but enough to break the tension.

“it’s not worth talking about.”

with that, you turned back to the desk, determined to focus on anything other than the prying eyes behind you.

the tension lightened on its own, everyone in the room seemingly understanding that you weren't ready to talk about it and decided to respect your wishes. everyone except for bakugou.

“you gonna tell us or what?” he grumbled, his tone impatient and rough.

you quickly turned your head towards bakugou, meeting his sharp gaze with a glare of your own. “there isn’t anything to talk about. we worked together over the summer and got a little close. that’s it.” your words had come out a little more strained than you had hoped. 

you wanted to end it there, already continuing to clean off the desk in front of you, but there was a tight knot of heat rising in your chest, coiling tighter with each passing second, threatening to unravel if you didn’t get the words out. “it’s messed up, but i kind of saw it coming,” you said with a bitter laugh.

“he’d been pretty distant lately,” your tone a little sharper this time, cutting through the air with a bitterness that surprised even you. 

the words hung in the air, and you felt a surge of frustration bubbling up inside you. “but i just can’t stop thinking about it,” you continued, your voice rising with both anger and disbelief. “like—who even does that? who cheats so obviously, so publicly?”

your frustration began to boil over as you paced the room, your hands gesturing wildly. “it was almost like he wanted everyone to see it—including me,” you said, your voice now a little unsteady with rage. “and the worst part? he didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. like it didn’t matter at all.”

the room thickened with tension, the air heavy as everyone exchanged uneasy glances but remained silent. you could feel their eyes on you, waiting for more, but you had nothing left to say. the silence grew oppressive, pressing down on your chest and making it hard to breathe. you turned back to your little section, your movements more deliberate as you tried to push aside the painful thoughts.

“you should’ve hit him instead,” bakugou said gruffly, breaking the silence with a sharp edge to his voice. “dumping soda is for kids.”

you shot him a glare, your patience wearing thin. “what did you expect? a brawl in the middle of the cafeteria?” your voice dripped with sarcasm,“i’m not a violent person, unlike some people,” you snapped, referencing his infamous temper. “heard about your little incident with the soccer coach.”

bakugou’s smirk widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “should’ve taken a couple of notes and tossed that can at his head,” he retorted, his tone lightening with a hint of amusement, but still laced with that familiar bite.

you huffed, crossing your arms as you faced him. “not everyone solves their problems with their fists, bakugou. some of us try to handle things like normal human beings.”

he rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall mimicking your pose. “that shits boring. you wanna get back at someone, you make sure they don’t forget it. that bastard deserves more than a soda bath for what he did.”

bakugou’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, the room seemed to pulse with the intensity of his conviction. his eyes were locked on yours. your eyes narrowed, a mix of frustration and something else—something like agreement—simmering beneath the surface. bakugou might have been blunt and abrasive, but there was something in his words that struck a chord with you. he wasn’t pitying you; he was angry on your behalf, and that made his support, twisted as it was, feel oddly genuine.

“thanks for the advice,” you muttered, your voice a little steadier now as you turned back to the desk, focusing on the task at hand. “but i’ll handle it my way.”

bakugou paused for a moment before shrugging “your loss,” he muttered, turning away with a huff as he resumed sweeping, his movements no less aggressive than before.

as the clock ticked closer to the end of detention, the atmosphere in the room began to shift. the earlier scene between you and bakugou had fortunately been enough to let the room settle back into a more comfortable silence. you all continued to work towards a clean room, consistently glancing at the clock in the front of the room.

jirou, who had been dusting off a set of old drums in the corner, paused for a moment, her eyes flicking over to the guitar propped against the wall. in this quiet, awkward moment, it seemed to be calling to her. without a word, jirou picked up the guitar, her fingers instinctively finding the chords from the song she had been trying to write earlier that morning. she strummed a few notes, testing the strings, and the sound filled the small room, breaking the silence in a way that felt almost magical. the melody was soft at first, a gentle, soothing tune.

momo, a little intrigued, put down the sheet music she had been organizing and moved over to the piano in the corner. she sat down, her fingers hovering over the keys. she paused for a moment focusing on the tune. jirou made her way towards her helping to count her in, and soon she began to play, adding a delicate harmony to jirou’s guitar.

kaminari, catching onto the impromptu performance, quickly grabbed a guitar from a nearby shelf. he adjusted the strap, tuning it with quick, practiced movements before joining in with an upbeat rhythm that contrasted with the gentle melody.

shinsou, watching the growing musical ensemble, found a bass guitar leaning against the wall. he picked it up, his fingers gliding over the strings as he added a smooth, steady bassline that nearly tied everything together.

bakugou’s sweeping had slowed to a near stop, watching the scene with a mixture of irritation and something else—something that looked a lot like interest. despite himself, he found his foot tapping along to the beat, though he kept his face set in a scowl, determined not to show that he was enjoying it.

kaminari noticed his friends behavior and looked over at him with a cheeky smile, “cmon bakugou, you gotta know how to play something”

bakugou glared at him, but there was a spark of something in his eyes—a challenge that he couldn’t resist. with a low growl, he finally gave in, he put down his broom and marched over to the drums, plopping himself down in the little stoll, quickly finding the drumsticks, his movements were loud and brash, but precise and added a flare that caused the others to cheer.

shinsou had locked eyes with you and slowly walked towards you as he continued to strum to the rhythm, he nudged you with his foot, his voice low as he teased, “scared to join in? thought you were better than that.”

you rolled your eyes, but the playful challenge in his words was enough to make you crack a smile. without giving him the satisfaction of a reply, you started humming along, your voice adding another layer to the growing chorus.

jirou was quick to reach into her bag and point to the song she had been playing, lyrics already spread across the page. it would be rude to ignore her invitation so you began singing along, your voice adding a bright, energetic layer to the growing melody. as you sang, you moved around the room, book still in hand, draping furry scarves over shinsou and kaminari, who both looked momentarily surprised but amused by the sudden accessory.

kaminari wore a goofy grin as he tapped his foot to the beat, while shinsou raised an eyebrow but couldn’t help a chuckle as the scarf was wrapped around his neck. you picked up a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses and plopped them on bakugou’s face, who initially tried to swat them off but eventually gave in with a reluctant smirk.

jirou, still playing the guitar, laughed as you placed a sparkly crown on her head, and momo soon found herself wearing a matching crown as you draped one over her too. the playful transformation gave everyone an almost surreal, whimsical look, turning the music room into a makeshift stage of goofy fun.

the room erupted into spontaneous dancing. jirou and momo twirled around with their crowns, while kaminari and shinsou tried to keep up with the beat on their instruments, all while their furry scarves whirled around them. bakugou, had pushed his heart sunglasses up, wearing it as a headband, and he couldn’t suppress a genuine laugh as he played the drums with extra flair, his usual intensity softened by the sheer absurdity of the moment.

the room now resonated with laughter and music. you all played together, your individual sounds blending into a surprisingly harmonious and fun song. bakugou pounded the drums with intensity, a fierce look of concentration on his face. jirou's guitar riffs were energetic and playful, while momos keyboard added an unexpected but beautiful layer to the music. kaminari guitar strumming was enthusiastic and full of life, and shinsous bass lines were steady and grounding.

as the song came to an end, they all exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and amusement on their faces. but a loud squeal snapped you all out of your excitement. 

“wow, that was amazing!” ms. midnight said, clapping her hands together with a beaming smile. mr. aizawa, standing behind her with his usual stoic demeanor, nodded approvingly but remained quiet.

ms. midnight’s playful challenge hung in the air. “you guys should definitely give that monoma brat a run for their money. if this is how you perform when you’re having fun, imagine what you could do on stage!”

despite her praise, the six of you exchanged awkward glances before shrugging off her suggestion as you all made your way back to your seats. but ms. midnight wasn’t one to let things go so easily. she quickly approached the group, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“ms. yaoyorozu, your precision and control are impeccable, as always,” ms. midnight said, turning to momo with a warm smile. “you brought such elegance to the performance—it really grounded everything.”

momo gave a modest nod, her cheeks tinged with pink from the compliment. “thank you, ms. midnight,” she replied with a small smile, always the picture of grace. “but–”

“and as for you three—you were the driving force behind this whole thing! mr. kaminari, your energy was contagious, ms. jirou, those riffs were killer, and mr. bakugou, that intensity? perfect for the stage.” passion was practically spilling out of her as she danced around the room complimenting everyone. 

kaminari’s eyes lit up, and he grinned widely, clearly pleased with the praise. jirou smirked, nodding her appreciation, while bakugou crossed his arms and scowled, “whatever.”

“oh, don’t be like that, mr. bakugou,” ms. midnight teased lightly, her gaze shifting to shinsou. “and mr. shinsou, your cool, laid-back vibe really balanced everything out. it’s like you’re the calm in the storm, keeping everyone on track.”

shinsou gave a casual nod, “just doing my part.”

finally, ms. midnight’s attention turned to you. her expression softened, and she looked directly into your eyes with a more intimate focus. “and as for you, y/n…”

you felt your heart drop to the depths of your stomach as her gaze zeroed in on you. her voice lowered slightly, making the moment feel more personal. “your voice was just incredible out there.”

you flinched slightly, taken aback by her sudden closeness. “uh, thanks. just... was having fun with it.”

ms. midnight leaned in even closer, her eyes bright with enthusiasm. “oh, don’t be so modest! it was fantastic. you have such a unique tone—meshed beautifully with those friends of yours. how come ive never heard it before?”

just as you were about to respond, a chuckle came from the back of the room. shinsou, who had been silently observing the interaction, smirked and spoke up.

“you know, y/n’s got the talent, no doubt,” shinsou said, his voice tinged with amusement. “but i think i remember—”

before he could continue, kaminari suddenly chimed in, cutting him off. “honestly, ms. midnight, you’re giving us way too much credit. we also dont even know each other, calling us all friends seems like a stretch”

shinsou frowned slightly, sinking back into his seat, clearly a little annoyed by the interruption. but it gave you a sense of relief. ms. midnight pouted slightly but wasn’t ready to back down.

“oh, come on, kaminari!” she exclaimed. “imagine how stunned everyone would be if you guys took the stage at the halloween bash. picture it: a lineup of raw talent that’d have everyone’s jaws on the floor, a feast for the eyes and ears!”

jirou, who had been quietly observing, chimed in with a smirk. “sounds like you’re really pushing for this, ms. midnight. ya sure you’re not just trying to live vicariously through us?”

ms. midnight laughed, waving off the comment. “maybe a little, but mostly, i just know talent when i see it. you all have something special, and i’d hate to see it go to waste.”

as ms. midnight stepped back, you let out a small sigh of relief, your cheeks flushed from the close encounter. the conversation had clearly left an impact, with some more than others, but you all remained resolute. the idea of becoming a band, especially for the halloween bash, was firmly off the table. you were ready to move on and put this performance behind you, knowing full well that there was no way in hell you’d be performing again anytime soon.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“hell no, headphones!” the shouting echoed down the hallway, the frustration in the voice was unmistakable. your face flushed with annoyance, the events of the day already wearing your patience thin. you glanced over at shinsou, who had his head resting against the wall of the elevator, muttering curses under his breath. the kid next to him shot nervous glances in your direction.

you and shinsou trudged down the hall towards the music room, neither of you particularly eager for what awaited inside. what was supposed to be a single day of detention for the group—except for jirou—had turned into a second round of cleaning thanks to the chaos you’d all caused with the instruments.

apparently, there had been a very intense chess match in the room next door, a title match that could’ve earned the chess club a spot upstairs with the regular clubs. but because of your little ‘band practice,’ their star player got too distracted and lost his round, condemning the club to another year of basement meetings. 

you had all been made aware of your later detentions during your homerooms. while everyone had grudgingly accepted their fate, bakugou nearly earned himself another week. he was quick to find and scold the chess player, claiming that if he were as skilled as he said he was, he would’ve won despite the distractions. mr. aizawa, however, let him off with just a stern warning about his temper. it seemed aizawa was either feeling lenient or simply couldn’t stand the thought of dealing with bakugou in detention for another week.

you both reached the end of the hallway where the small yellow vending machine was placed, you exchanged a knowing look with shinsou and before you knew it you shinsou was already putting in the bills for a drink, a small indulgence from the day’s frustrations.

as you reached into the machine to grab your drink, you heard a call of your name causing you to turn around. kaminari and momo had arrived and they both offered kind greetings. they came up behind you, each buying drinks of their own. kaminari had seemingly remembered his wallet this time. the four of you made a show of clinking your cups before grimacing at the taste.

you all entered the classroom and you made your way over to an empty desk, dumping your stuff onto the chair before walking over to grab a rag and a spray bottle. however, you were quickly stopped by an uncharacteristically cheerful jirou. she held your spray bottle in one hand and the rag in the other. you gave her a small smile and a quick thanks before reaching out for the set, but she took a quick step back, her smile unchanging. you furrowed your eyebrows, confused, and reached for them again only for her to take another step back.

“wh-”

“pleasejointhebandireallywanttocompeteandifeelliketheressomethinghere—”

“what are you saying?” you asked, tilting your head to the side.

“midnight got into her head with all that bullshit and now she wants us to become a band for the night and play at that stupid halloween dance,” bakugou grumbled his voice laced with irritation as he continued to empty our boxes and organize the various music books into their respective shelves.

a collective groan erupted from the group as the realization sank in. it was obvious that the earlier outburst had come from bakugou, who had reacted explosively when jirou first proposed her idea.

“tried to tell her that we already did the singing thing once. no need to turn this into a thing,” bakugou added, slamming a book down with enough force to make everyone jump.

momo shook her head, clearly unimpressed. “jirou, while i do admit it was rather enjoyable, i have to agree with bakugou. it was supposed to be a one-time thing. we’re in our final year now. we have more important things to focus on.’”

jirou’s enthusiasm didn’t wane. “cmon guys, you all have gotta hear me out.”

she continued to follow you. even while you began working at your own section, hoping that she would take the hint. “ it’s a chance to showcase our skills, have some fun, and—” she paused dramatically. “monoma’s gonna be performing as well!”

you knew what she was implying, but you couldn’t stop yourself from humoring her just a bit, “so?” 

“sooo thisll be a fun way to humiliate him by simply being better than him! and i’m pretty sure the best band gets some sort of prize, who doesn’t love a good prize” jirou clasped her hands together and looked at you with large hopeful eyes. and when you turned to face her, you swore you could see a literal twinkle inside of them. 

“i will admit i do love prizes.” kaminari muttered, jirou was quick to turn her attention towards him slamming both of her hands down on his desk dramatically.

kaminari leaned back in his chair, trying to escape the intensity of jirou’s gaze but clearly intrigued. “but isn’t monoma just going to show off? hes been doing this kinda thing for a while now.”

“exactly!” jirou grinned triumphantly, as if kaminari’s reluctance was exactly the confirmation she needed. “that’s why it’ll be so satisfying to beat him. and think about it—we’ll be the highlight of the dance! plus, it's halloween! we can dress up, add a theme to our performance, make it unforgettable!”

bakugou scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at jirou. “you really think we have time to mess around with costumes and setlists? i’m not interested in stroking monoma’s ego by even pretending he’s competition.”

jirou didn’t miss a beat. “oh, please, bakugou. like you wouldn’t love to blow him off the stage with one of your killer drum solos. ”

for a brief moment, bakugou’s expression wavered, as if he was genuinely considering the idea. but then he shook his head, returning to his usual scowl. “it doesn’t matter,” he said firmly. “we’ve got exams, college applications, and real-world shit to deal with. we can’t waste our time on this nonsense.”

momo nodded in agreement, “bakugou’s right. our schedules are packed. we don’t have the luxury to divert our focus from important tasks.”

kaminari, who had been unusually quiet up until now, suddenly perked up, his face brightening with enthusiasm. “i’m with jirou on this! come on, guys, it’s our last year! we should make the most of it. plus, we’ve got the talent—why not show it off?”

shinsou, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, finally spoke up, “i dunno. it could actually be kinda fun.”

bakugou shot shinsou a heated glare, his frustration boiling over. “you too, eyebags? i expected this bullshit from him,” he said, jabbing a finger towards kaminari, “but i didnt think youd be dumb enough to fall for this crap too.” 

 shinsou shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. “it’s not exactly my scene, but i don’t have much else going on right now. why not give it a go? besides, i’m not a fan of monoma either. it’d be satisfying to put him in his place."

“yeah, come on, bakugou, you’ve already got the jump on him in soccer and academics—why not try this?” kaminari asked. he’d known bakugou since they were in grade school, understanding exactly how he ticked and which buttons to push.

bakugou shot him a sharp glare, carefully weighing his response. after a tense pause, bakugou finally spoke up, “alright, so what if i agree? what happens if this turns into a disaster?”

jirou placed a hand on her hip, her smirk widening. “disaster? with you in the band? please, bakugou. the only disaster here would be if we didn’t give the crowd a show they’d never forget. and let’s be real, if anyone can turn this into a win, it’s you.”

bakugou’s eyes narrowed, the tension in the room clear as he glared at jirou. the two locked eyes, the unspoken challenge between them crackling with electricity. jirou didn’t flinch, her gaze steady. she knew she was playing on bakugou’s pride and competitive spirit.

bakugou’s lips twitched, a flicker of a smirk betraying his resolve. after a long pause, he finally growled, “fine. but we’re doing this my way. no half-assed performances. we’re going all in. you screw up, and i’ll make sure you regret it.”

jirou’s face lit up with victory. “wouldn’t dream of it.”

before the excitement could fully settle in, momo stepped forward, her arms crossing tightly over her chest. her expression and tone were serious as she spoke, “i’m not trying to be a killjoy, but have you all thought this through? this isn’t just about jamming for fun. if we mess this up, it’ll reflect poorly on all of us. we’ve barely got two weeks, and we’re up against monoma—who, despite his flaws, knows how to put on a show.”

momo’s frown deepened. “and if things go wrong, we’re risking our reputations.”

unfortunately, that sense of responsibility and reputation really only applied to bakugou, momo, and kaminari. each of them had made a name for themselves at the school, though for very different reasons. you, shinsou, and jirou were on the opposite end of the popularity spectrum. both you and shinsou preferred to stay out of the spotlight. you both typically chose to avoid unnecessary attention. jirou, having transferred midway through last year, was still somewhat of a mystery and had yet to establish a reputation of her own.

 kaminari, ever the optimist, waved a hand dismissively. “so what if we embarrass ourselves a little? we’ll have a good laugh about it later. besides, mo, you’re always the one telling us to balance work and play. this could be our chance to do that.”

momo hesitated as she weighed her options, glancing around the room she could see the resolve in their eyes. she also couldn’t deny the fact that part of her found the idea of a band a bit exciting.

“fine,” momo said slowly, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “but just promise that we are going to approach this with the seriousness it deserves. i cant allow myself to be part of something that falls apart because we failed to put enough effort ”

jirou’s face broke into a wide grin, and she clapped her hands together in excitement. “yes! this is going to be amazing! i promise, momo, you won’t regret it.” 

now all eyes were on you, and you were still trying to grasp how things had changed so quickly. barely a few minutes ago, the idea had faced the strong resistance as yesterday, yet jirou had managed to win everyone over, with bakugou’s agreement being the most surprising. 

that scene in the lunchroom was the most spotlight you’d had in years, and you had always preferred to remain in the background. it had taken years for the whispers about that middle school incident to fade, and now this performance felt like a shortcut to more unwanted attention and awkward reminders.

but it was clear that no matter what you said now, they would continue to push and attempt to persuade you. you were unfortunately fighting a losing battle. you sighed in defeat, meeting the eyes of your peers. “alright,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “i guess it won’t be that bad.” the group exchanged quick glances, a mix of excitement and apprehension settling over them.

jirou clapped her hands together, her excitement reaching a fever pitch. “this is going to be amazing! we’ve got the talent, the drive—now we just need to figure out the details.”

the room buzzed with a renewed energy as the group began tossing around ideas, discussing song choices, potential costumes, and ways to make their performance stand out all while continuing to tidy up. 

but as the conversation continued, your mind wandered, a flicker of doubt still lingering. you couldn’t shake the nervous knot in your stomach. the idea of standing up in front of the entire school, putting yourself out there like that, was daunting. you could only hope that this gamble would pay off and not end in disaster.

a/n: GUYS PLS TELL ME IF THE SCENE WHERE THEY LIT JUST BROKE INTO A JAM SESH IS CRINGE PLS I WANTED IT TO BE LIKE THE MOVIE BUT OMFG FELT LIKE I WAS WRITING A Y/N SINGING FIGHTSONG DURING THE SPORTS FESTIVAL SCENE. but anyways, i decided this is going to be a band au with lemonade mouth elements bc i lowk fucked up with the characters and the plotline! also i have my full outline now #yippie! also sorry for deleting and uploading, i kept changing the picture. still not a fan of this one, might have to mess around and make my own...

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likes & reblogs & constructive criticism are all welcomed and appreciated <33333

thank you sm for reading this! im gonna try and pump out another chapter tomorrow or the day after <3

[desultory-novice]

"Whoever said 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' left a lot of stuff out..."

[Name:] Noir Fontaine "...It's pronounced 'fawn-tan'"

[Reference Image:]

[[Tournament Asks Masterpost]]

[Notes on Personality:]

"My pronouns are he/some-kind -of-planet-invading hellspawn, I guess."

A kindhearted teen beneath the surface, growing up amidst humanity's depressive twilight hours on a hostile, frozen wasteland, plus a lifetime of tragedies no one his age should have to bear, has hardened Noir into a sarcastic, sassy little edgelord with a bitter tongue that's as sharp as his cursed sword, both of which he'll turn on anything he finds threatening with little provocation.

Noir's oodles and caboodles of twitchy paranoia combined with him having the approachability of a flea-ridden alley cat, makes breaking the thick ice to touch the heart of the scarred boy hiding beneath a task for only the most patient (or masochistic) of souls.

...And even then, he'll still sass you.

Likes: storytelling, games, the night sky, his siblings Dislikes: violence, crowds, touch, food, opening up

[Backstory and Lore:]

"...My life had way more talking plushies playing key roles than I'd have guessed."

Son of <L.D. Violet Level Access Only> and <L.D. Violet Level Access Only> Noir is a normal (?) human (?) teen from Shiver Star and Adeleine's older brother.

After the early death of his parents under very suspicious circumstances, Noir took over as sole guardian of his little sister, giving up the little-to-nothing he had to keep her safe and happy, including his own happiness, his health, and very nearly his sanity.

His preternaturally bad luck took a turn for the absolutely devastating when–while searching for a cheer-up gift for his little sister amongst some suspicious New World relics–he just so happened to acquire a psychic blade forged of Dark Matter.

As if it knew exactly who he was and exactly who he could go on to be, the Blade attached itself to him in a rather physical (:cough: and un-removable :cough:) manner and began slowly but surely corrupting him, body, mind, and soul.

Yet, he was able to use its destructive gifts to quietly rescue his sister Adeleine from Shiver Star's apocalyptic, dead-end environs and send her off into the endless possibilities waiting in the sea of stars, guaranteeing she, at least, would have a future.

The corruption devours him soon after.

In a 'verse close to that of the canon games, Noir loses his human body upon death along with (most) of his memories, and his captive soul is reforged by Zero as the eldritch entity's elite vanguard, a position which caused King Dedede to dub him "Blade."

In this form, the emotionless(?) Dark Matter drone would go on to adopt Gooey (in place of the sister he could not fully remember) and lead the invasion of Popstar for the collective, unaware it was the very planet Adeleine escaped to. She would not discover the one-eyed shadow monster was her brother till much, much later...

Noir dies a second time, in a duel against Popstar's hero, Kirby of the Stars, having remembered his human life too late to do anything about it. Noir would die for a third time after a disappointed Zero resurrects, tortures, and brainwashes him in order to force his participation in the second, penultimate invasion of Popstar.

Tragically, even after banishing Dark Matter from Popstar and destroying Zero, Noir's soul remains trapped in darkness.

...He would've liked to see his little sister and brother again...

In another 'verse, he and Adeleine swap fates and... :cough:

Favorite Dream Landers: Adeleine, Gooey, King Dedede, Kirby

---

[Notes on Potential (???) Interactions:]

If your OC has ANY ability to sense Dark Matter, is or ever was Dark Matter, or has a grudge against Dark Matter, Noir should set them off like a particularly obnoxious car alarm. He radiates Dark Matter energy, even when he's not doing anything.

If your OC is small, cute, and harmless (ie: reminds him of Adeleine or Gooey in any way) you may earn some begrudging care from the boy. He's got a terminal case of big-brother syndrome, after all.

If your OC has been through the horrors (and specifically NOT come out a better, healthier person for it) he will probably sympathize.

Address him as "Swordsman" and watch him twitch! It's fun!

[Etc:]

For this event, Noir is visually in his "last days as a living human" form, ie: purple-black patches of corrupted flesh and veins and monster hands beneath his gloves.

He's below average height and weight for his age, but being an Earth-human like Adeleine (and taller than her) generally winds up taller than most average Dream Land-type residents

As far as physical appearance goes, Noir is still 16 (the age he died at) but he spent a sizable period of time as Dark Matter and his true mental/emotional age is difficult to calculate.

Outside of the powers he picked up from the sword (teleportation, darkness control, memory-based matter re-creation, etc) Noir, owing to his heritage, has some mild powers all of his own (pre-cognition, cross-dimensional sight, etc) though he is untrained in the use of them and remains unaware they are "powers" at all.

---

PS: You can read more about Noir [HERE]

---

Well, I have done it. I have thrown my son to the Shark-Dees! XD Shall we see how The Boy Who Always Dies does at the @kirbyoctournament ?

[cod-dump]

Watching old vine compilations on YouTube just cause

And ya know that one of the guy that fires a revolver in his house and his brother falls off the couch and shouts "THIS IS WHY MOM DOESN'T FUCKING LOVE YOU!!"

That's teen!Ghost and teen!Gaz

Ghost just being a dick to his brother for no reason

Gaz being so fed up with his bullshit

Ghost: *does anything loud and sudden to intentionally scare Gaz* Gaz: THIS IS WHY DAD DOESN'T FUCKING LOVE YOU

———

Simon loves tormenting his brother. With small things such as misplacing his phone, the remote, hiding his snacks— anything that’ll annoy Kyle.

“Simon! Where’s my charger?!”

“I don’t know, you can use mine.”

“You have an android!”

“Yep.”

Recently, he’s been enjoying doing bigger things to get a reaction. Loud, annoying, obnoxious, but mostly harmless with limited destruction things. But, it would seem Kyle finally reached his limit.

“You asshole! This is why Dad doesn’t fucking love you!”

Simon was very shocked by Kyle’s outburst. Normally it was Simon who yelled and got angry. Maybe the firecracker was a bit much nine in the morning. Or maybe one of the other countless things Simon had set up the night before was what did it. Whatever it was, Kyle was pissed… and Simon realized that he’s been too much. The yelling brought their father upstairs, exhausted but alert.

“What’s with the yelling?”

Kyle points at the firecracker bits on the floor, “SIMON!”

When their father groaned, Simon tensed up.

“Kid, where did you even get a firecracker?”

“Probably Ale! He’s always getting stupid prank ideas from him!”

“Kyle, go downstairs and get breakfast before Nik eats it all.”

Kyle grumbles and storms downstairs, John turning to Simon with a sigh while rubbing his face.

“Si, it’s a bit early.”

Simon avoids eye contact, regret welling up. He was still taken aback by Kyle’s outburst and couldn’t muster up his usual energy.

“Go get breakfast. Again, before Nik decides to eat it all. God, he’s insatiable.”

Simon watches his father go downstairs, letting out a shaky breath before he follows.

[paintbrushnebula]

Funny idea for a headcanon popped into my head the other day and the more I think about it the funnier it gets

So basically it's a running gag that most teens younger than/around Gwen's age always think that she's older than she actually is at first, and they won't realize she's 16 until it's actually pointed out for them. And what's more obnoxious is they're always weirdly shocked when they find out.

And Gwen's always like "?????" and throwing her arms up in the air every time this happens because she just does not get why teens keep thinking that she's in her early 20s. I mean it's not like she looks particularly older than she is right? At first she guess that it has to be her whole punk rock aesthetic, until she finds out it's because apparently she gives off what Ganke calls "millennial energy." Ganke explains to Gwen that she doesn't keep up with internet memes, all her favorite movies are from the Blockbuster era, she strongly prefers physical media over digital and is very vocal about it, and she's always using college slang like "the pits" or "keep it 100" (this is because George uses that slang and she thought it sounded punky and cool). Since none of this is considered typical Gen Z behavior, they all assume she's older and therefore too lame (and intimidating) to approach

Gen Z? More like Gwen Z heeheehee

[thearcanecat]

Hatchetfield headcanons?

Let’s see…

Holloway has lots of scars from living for centuries and hides them with the jacket. These include:

Lightning scars

Wiggly: sucker/tentacle marks

Pokey: cracks

Blinky: eye like circular pattern. Red vein squiggles at end.

Tinky: hoof print

Nibbly: bite marks

Her accent gets stronger when she’s mad. Same for Duke, but you rarely hear it.

Original name was Holly-May Logan.

The strange carving it’s mentioned she has in Killer Track, is a part of Pokey’s mask.

Ryan Reynolds is the person running against Solomon for mayor. He’s pushing the problematic pooch story because it shows how horrible the town has gotten under Solomon’s rule. You’d think the disappearance of his wife right before he got elected would be a bigger deal, but no, time for our daily Peanuts the Hatchetfield Pocket Squirrel segment!

The Obnoxious Teen is actually different versions of Pete after an encounter with the Bastard Box. He now lives in a never ending hell of minimum wage jobs.

Grace’s birthday is September 9th, buy a priest a beer day.

The Honey Queen sacrifice takes place on the summer solstice at midnight.

Description of the tree that grew from Willabella: Gnarled roots extend from a bulbous center. No leaves hang from its crown of branches. It is not natural. Nothing grows near it, except the apples that grow for its branches, never ripe and always rotten. A hollow in the center is swarming with spiders whose web spans across it. Several scars are evident from where the Hatchetmen, once they realized their mistake, tried to cut it down. From its branches hand charms of protection and containment that replace old ones of worship. It grows behind the old Waylon Hall, over the sight of Willabella’s execution. Like the Hall, many rumors swirl around it and foolish children often dare each other to touch the bark.

The Blade of Truth that MacNamara uses on the Sniggles is one of multiple PEIP has constructed. With help from Holloway, they were able to harness the White’s energy into physical form. Each Blade requires a secret to be whispered into it as it forms, one no one has ever heard before. If someone tells a lie while holding the Blade, it shatters.

The Foster family are descended from Willabella and a Hatchetman with the last name Forester. Willabella had no love for him and only got pregnant to delay her execution.

The Stockworth family vacations in Hatchetfield because they have connections with the Church of the Starry children. Lucy is not aware if this.

Charles Coven was part of PEIP and went by Carlo at the time.

PEIP has ID numbers based on the Stith Thompson’s Motif Index of Folk-Literature. Basically a collection of a bunch of different motifs in folklore.

Wilbur: D1310.10.1. Magic apple gives supernatural knowledge.

Holloway (Holliway this identity): G220.0.1. "Black" and "white" witches. Malevolent and benevolent.

John: B147.2.1.2. Eagle as omen of victory.

Xander: J1291.2. Theological questions answered by propounding simple questions in science.

Douglas Keane Sr. was an informant for PEIP. Basically, PEIP goes around to various people in professions where the supernatural may be encountered (law enforcement, medical, park rangers etc.) and gives them a little presentation with very vague language about if they seen anything unnatural, or out if the ordinary, to give their office a call. Since Hatchetfield is such a hotspot, Douglas knows a lot more about the supernatural than most informants do and is on first name basis with several PEIP agents. (This is heavily based off a book called The Rook by Daniel O’Malley.)

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/743753323453300736/sense-of-place-i-can-get-with-hp-but-no-ive#notes

Ok listen to anyone reading tho, Voldermort? What the fuck even was that? Rant incoming, keep in mind this is over the top because of how tired I got after 10+ years of people constantly claiming what a fucking good villain Voldermort is just for being from HP. And also the absolutely obnoxious amount of people who used constantly compare literally any "ebil politician from eeby deeby" to Voldermort, before JRK went full mask off terf and misandrist weirdo.

What a shitty ass villain is Voldemort fr fr? Dude gets hyped since book 1 to be some kinda super charisma mastermind, then you meet his edgy emo teen version, people fucking raving. Then? Then book 4-5? One of those, drops one of the most boring ass bitch villains with a shitass excuse. What the fuck was that geriatric snake tiddy sucking fella? Where's the charisma everyone claimed was built up in the previous books? That dude had the charisma of a wrecking ball hitting the local orphanage puppy bakery for nice lil grandmas. If there is something lower than underwhelmed, that's me when I heard about that insult to our beloved snek kind. Leave me alone, snakes are fucking baller. 🐍

No charisma, and his world domination plan was fucking stupid. What the fuck? What a underwhelming villain. The logic for his weird magical racial purity shit was not consistent. Like you'd think a genocidal ethnonationalist maniac would make for an intimidating villain, but that dude couldn't walk up a set of stairs without falling flat on his ass from incompetence.

I'm not surprised that pink cat lady Umbridge is seen as a worse person, yeah yeah you could have a teacher who's a bitch like her, but you'll probably never meet a genocidal dumbass like Voldemort. But fr, Voldermort is just not fucking intimidating and so much of the things that JKR wrote him doing and planning are just fucking stupid. Like, all his lil edgy masked sidekicks have more evil energy, while he's just kinda there, failing. And then they ain't even loyal, because they were fucking kids when they joined him, congrats your army of edgy mask wearers can't even deal with a school of teens.

--

[twinkleomorashi]

Do you have any headcanons about your fic’s characters?

I actually have a whole document of these that has never seen the light of day. Until now. Some of these are canon bc that’s just how writing head canons about ur own characters works ig. Sorry this massively long!!!

I have both normal and omo/ nsfw ones of course!

June

Loves a fruity little drink. Any fruity little drink offered is a win in her books. Also loves diet coke. Hates drinking water.

Hates any sort of bug or animal you would call an exterminator for.

Takes obnoxiously long showers

Really terrible at not getting her way. Will have a tantrum

Youngest sibling if it wasn’t obvious.

Actually a really good cook, but nobody believes her

Possessive. It contributes to the biting / marking kink she has, but she hasn’t made that connection yet (everyone else has)

Favorite flavor of ice cream is cotton candy because Bethany Mota said it was hers in like 2014 so June forced herself to like it and is still convinced she does.

Loves gossip. Has never minded her business ever.

Kind of a klepto if we’re being honest but this is canon

TERRIBLE driver. Assigned passenger princess by others out of fear

August

extremely obvious blusher

sense of humor of a twelve year old boy despite trying to act more mature than she is

subconsciously collects rocks. Her pockets always have some in them that she found throughout the day. She sometimes forgets to take them and they fuck up the dryer.

Cries watching teen soap operas but nobody is allowed to know that

Terrible eyesight without her glasses

Fiddles with her glasses when she’s lying.

Scared of storms

Mommy issues so bad

Doesn’t like the taste of beer, but drinks it anyway because she thinks it makes her look more masc

honestly has terrible internanalized toxic masculinity

favorite band is The Killers

has kept a diary since she was 14

Taj

car smells like car air freshener desperately trying and failing to conceal the smell of weed

art major, makes a living drawing furry porn. Says it’s for the bit. It might not be.

Blood is probably at least 25% energy drink at this point

“Anything for the bit!” (Actively gets herself into Situations)

Terrible at budgeting

loves hot chip and charge her phone

favorite flavor of anything is green apple. Likes the light green monster because she thinks it’s green apple. It’s not.

Loves heights and climbing, is really good at it even though she’s short

sleeps in weird positions, very heavy sleeper

Exclusively wears really stupid graphic t shirts

Her one exception to her lesbianism is shadow the hedgehog and she’s dead serious about it

Massive praise kink.

Isla

Prefers coffee to tea. Has not had tea in two months because she thinks people expect her to drink tea and thus she refuses to.

Self proclaimed frigid bitch (is actually so sweet). Total defense mechanism.

Twirls her hair when she’s nervous.

Loves fruit and veg.

Avid reader, prefers non fiction. Likes to research psychology and human behavior.

High alcohol tolerance, but no where near as high as she thinks it is. “I’m completely sober right now” (is actively stumbling around and giggling)

Squeamish as hell. Can’t handle horror movies or even watch like… wrestling or something.

Psych major who has never once communicated her own feelings honestly ever so uh

Laughs really loud, is embarrassed by it

Struggles to make friends because she’s too self conscious to talk to people.

Was a horse girl as a child. Still is lowkey a horse girl but she’s embarrassed about it and refuses to discuss it.

Terrified of heights

porn specific lol both actual and piss

June

average sized bladder, though it’s on the weaker side

too stubborn to admit to others that she needs to pee until it becomes an emergency

Like won’t admit it until the VERY last second where she’s starting to panic about wetting herself

Squirmyyy, moves her hips a lot

Loves to give hickies. Huge marking kink. Goes along with her possessiveness.

Dominant for self-satisfying reasons. August immediately becomes more dominant if she sees June trying to be, but that’s what June wants from her anyway

August

Not super in-tune with her needs. Forgets to pee and ends up desperate later on as a consequence

Usually can stay pretty composed when desperate, but has her limits. Will admit it with little hesitation.

Instinctively grabs herself when desperate, though often catches and stops herself if people are around

Way more willing to pee in containers or outside than most people are

Has tried to pee standing up many times. It has never once worked. She has never told anyone this.

Loud..

Loveeees to top. Puts others pleasure before her own in every situation. Has to be explicitly guided into putting her own first.

Taj

Veryy vocal most of the time, mostly unashamed

Diuretics effect her pretty bad, despite how many energy drinks she drinks

Bladder’s actually pretty big and strong under normal circumstances. She can hold it for a while if she puts her mind to it and doesn’t give into the temptation to “let some out”.

That being said, she’s not particularly strong-willed most of the time… Easily tempted by the thought of relief and that can override her logic about the consequences of giving in.

Weirdo perv. Massive praise kink. Very obedient and eager to please

Tops from the bottom.

Dangerously close to crossing too many wires in her brain about a certain something..

Isla

Embarrassed at the mere idea of someone knowing she has to pee

Will not say a goddamn word if she’s desperate

Will literally be pleading for help but doing in roundabout ways that very rarely directly mentions the problem at hand

Huge bladder, but it tends to be weak and sore for a few days if she loses control of it

Secretly a huge pervert, but will barely even admit that to herself

Once she gets the chance to be one though??? Lord..

Soft but firm domme

Bottoms from the top

[loveing-eyes]

dating teen aizawa vs adult aizawa (she/her pronouns please) also if they were extroverted that would be great

adult Shouta Aizawa

•hes a pretty chill person and he's busy 99% of the time so that's why you haven't got to tye the knot yet

•no biological children you have a cat and eri and kinda shinsou? you're honestly concerned with how your boyfriend keeps finding random children

• your friends with presentmic like really close obnoxious friends who make shouta contemplate why he has such loud people in his life

• dates normal arent dates and are just forcing him to go somewhere with you cause he doesn't want his students bothering you

• even though you are energetic you sleep as much as he does from years of being influenced by his sleep schedule and you staying up each night waiting for him to get home

• for cuddling he either holds you close while you rest your head on his chest or your laying on top of him

•or if he's had a bad day you hold him while he rests his head on your stomach and you comfort him by playing with his hair while he complains or you just sit in silence as you comfort him

• he's not much of a cook but when he does cook for you its wonderful

•he keeps you calm and puts up with your random energy bursts cause he loves you

• dumb jokes about him loving the cat more then you when its sleeping on his lap

•he likes how you kinda mellowed out as the years went by

• he loves you and you love him neither one of you would change how things are for the world

teen shouta Aizawa

• the two of you met when hizashi decided you should hang out with him shota and Oboro

• at first he thought you were just going to be some annoying girl who was friends with till you actually showed interest and tried talking to him

•then he realized maybe you wouldn't be so bad to hang out with

• after around a month he developed a crush on you and told hizashi about it

•who told him to just go for it the worst you could do was say no

•so he did and obviously you said yes

• so then you were dating things would go a bit slow at first so you two could get the feel of how things were gonna be and set up boundaries

• and you found out he had an affectionate side

• the two of you would hang out all the time with and without hizashi but alone you would either always be just sitting around in each other's rooms going on and on about random things

•or he would be laying in between your legs peppering your thighs with kisses while you read him a book or complained to him about random things while playing with his hair while giggling

• or while he read to you, you would have yourself laying on his stomach paying full attention to the book

•after around a year together he showed up at your house with a kitten it was now your child and the two of you have shared custody of it

•so every once in a while if he leaned in to kiss you and the cat was with you you would act surprised and yell "not in front of the baby"

•he would never admit it but he secretly adored your loud wild side no matter how annoyed or tired of it he acted

• comforting each other after oboros passing as you were also breaking down he was your close friend as well

[antirepurp]

time for me to be obnoxious about an april fool's game at almost may wahoo ft. an unexpected moment of character analysis because i have no chill

TRAIN.

i hope this game is canon because rouge doing petty pickpocketing is my favorite thing actually

he has a wallet? and a home?

i could go on about how much i love these kids being unhinged and chaotic but unless i want to reblog this post a million times i have to cut it down. let it be known that i adore the kids and their antics tho

you know what i also adore? blaze committing crimes in the chaos dimension because she can get away with it. i think i need more of that in my life actually

although right after he says he doesn't wanna do more crimes i'd like to think he grows out of that opinion eventually. let the little guy steal stuff i want him to hang with rouge and have her make him worse actually

look here shadow's had it rough in the writing department for a while but i very much appreciated this plot point of him going out of his way to get concert tickets for amy and even (reluctantly) agreeing to go with her to said concert even if it isn't his cup of tea. i know it's more presented as him trying to y'know be polite and considerate and he's going about it in an edgy way but i'd like to think it's just his way of presenting things if you will? like he know what amy's favorite band is and sees how hard the tickets are to get so he goes out of his way to get them because he cares about his friend and knows how much attending a concert like that would mean to amy. and in terms of this screenshot in particular i also appreciate amy appreciating her friends' presence at her party even if they hadn't gotten her anything! sure it does kinda come across as her being bummed about not getting gifts from them and maybe she is but i think that's okay? like she's 12 (or 13 now i guess?) getting excited about presents is pretty normal, and it's not like she's super upset about it anyway. i think she genuinely appreciates her friends attending her party more than anything

i also found this a lovely little detail lol and it does kinda make sense! the bitch has been in stasis for 50 years and computer technology has taken leaps in that time, of course he'd be a lil rustier with them compared to his peers

more on shadow, this guy's brain goes overdrive the second he realizes he fucked up and needs to get something nice for his friend now. like i don't have the brain power to form it into words atm but i just love what this all says about him as a character!!

i could flail about the art in this game the whole evening honestly it's so lovely and colorful and pretty and i love how this scene is composed and shadow being seated on the windowsill idk this just put a big smile on my face when i saw it :)

frankly obsessed with amy's unhinged energy can we please get more of this bc i live for it

the fucking blowdart. i cannot tell you how fucking off the walls these teens are like espio's instructed to use a blowdart on sonic with non-lethal poison and he's like yeah that checks out and sonic's just like wow cool guess i'll snooze for a bit then like this shit is exactly why teenagers should be given superpowers and be put into Situations(TM) i love it

not an april fools game making me emotional over trains

and why yes i am obsessed obviously

it was a fun game! like tbh with a bit more content i would've been happy to pay a bit for this honestly (like. when im not broke lmao) like it's so charming and there were a lot of fun details and the jokes were enjoyable too. i just think it's neat :)

but yea that is all im glad sonic the hedgehog got murdered it was a great time

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Melaka Mystica (Part 2/3)

November 27, 2023

Notes - This month has been pretty dang good as I got a car, marched in a parade, made Thanksgiving dinner on my own for the first time (and didn't burn anything other than my energy and my mom's only remaining brain cells 😂), but then my uncle's cat, Budweiser (Buddy) who was 17 and I loved as my own, passed away after getting his final fill of turkey. He was an amazing old boy and I'll miss him dearly, but at least he's with the rest of my family, getting all the attention he could ever want! Honestly, though, I'm proud of myself for getting this done before the end of the month with all that happened around me! This is pretty much just 33 pages of me going off the rails at 3am and typing until my hands hurt, but it's worth it in the end! Anyway, I might need to invest in a wrist brace for carpal tunnel at this point 🙈😂

You all are clearly in over your pretty, little heads.

Metal dragged across old bricks, scraping a pile of leaves into a growing heap by the side of the road. As much as Mick hated being relegated to raking the sidewalk outside of her family’s shop, it got her away from the overbearing smell of incense packets and burning sage. Ever since the incident on Halloween, she had been suffering through her days at work. Things at the store had never been difficult for her before Halloween, but if the books Miles had been sending her excerpts of were anything to go by, all of her new problems were partly due to the possession she’d faced. Whatever had possessed her that day had left lingering traces of itself in her, making it damn near impossible for her to get through a workday. Whatever it had been, must have hated sage and incense, which, if she thought about it, made sense as negativity was supposed to be pushed out with a sage cleansing.

Regardless of how often she stepped out to breathe, her headaches only increased when someone would pull an incense stick from the wicker basket by the shop door to see how it smelled. She had tried to use one of the aromatherapy inhalers Carrie had bought her - something the blonde said she used to keep her sinuses clear during the winter if she had a show to perform in - but those only helped so much in the little shop. With customers pulling incense sticks from their packages to smell them properly, teens opening candles or essential oils, and groups of kids on field trips being obnoxious during Carrie’s performances, Mick was ready to down a bottle of Tylenol and pass out.

Thankfully, business had slowed down a considerable amount once Halloween passed. However, there were still the odd tourists coming and going in search of souvenirs and regulars looking for new crystals or a refill of their favorite incense. Once the local schools let out, they would get swarms of children and teenagers alike, pushing and shoving their way into the small store for cheap drinks or snacks. Some days were better than others, where they would get mostly older people coming in for replacement items or wanting a tarot reading. However, there were days when there would be an ignorant, middle-aged person looking to speak with the manager or owner - someone other than some “twenty-something little shit,” as most of them put it. On days like those, Mick wondered why her parents would give her the store if she had to deal with people like that all day. 

Then again, they weren’t entirely retired, and people who knew and loved her parents would sometimes come in asking specifically for them. Mick never minded stepping into the back room and quickly calling either of her parents, asking them to stop by. After Halloween, however, the stress of everything had been too overwhelming. More often than not, Mick wanted nothing more than to call up her parents and give the shop back to them, telling them that she just couldn’t handle it. However, she had managed to fight through the first week of November without having to call her parents for anything more than a friendly visit and felt as though things would get better over time.

Then came the eleventh. Due to Veteran’s Day, the schools were closed, and the city’s parade was set to go through the streets, honoring those who had served in any branch of the military - alive or dead. Parade days meant busy business, and, to her dismay, many of those who had marched through the streets had come to the Coven’s Cottage for a hot cider and some of Mrs Murphy’s homemade cider donuts. With so many different emotions coming at her from everyone who stepped in the door, Mick got overwhelmed quickly. After a sobbing woman and her children came inside, Mick realized she was shaking like a leaf. After sending the girl to the back to calm down, Miles and Carrie were left to fend for themselves while an overwhelmed Mick hid in the break room to cry through the pain of a slaughtering migraine. Once things had calmed down and Mick was able to think properly, Miles convinced the brunette to wave her white flag, and she asked her parents for help. 

Later that night, Mick had Miles and Carrie go home with her as witnesses so that her parents would see that she wasn’t just talking out of her ass. With his previous knowledge of magic, Brady was, understandably, concerned for his daughter’s health and mental well-being and began pacing - showing an anxious, overthinking side of the man that none of the young adults had seen before. On the other hand, while Mack had no magical ties of her own, the woman was determined to find a way to help her only child, looking into books and articles that could help cleanse Mick of any lasting effects from her possession. After sitting the older couple down once more and having them take the time to read over some of the things Miles and Carrie had found in their research for Mick, Mack and Brady agreed to put their daughter on lighter duty at their family shop, resuming their original positions as co-owners.

While the slightly lesser traffic in the shop and her parents helping out made things a bit easier on Mick’s headaches, she still felt physically drained just sitting in her family’s shop. Unlike Vivien or Royce, she didn’t have the ability to say her lungs were tight when someone tried to light sage or incense or claim her blood pressure was acting out whenever she got dizzy sitting at the register. In reality, with her parents and friends hovering almost every day, she was forced to get out and walk around town more frequently, giving her some fresh air. However, on days when the air outside was sitting in the forties, and the wind was like a cruel slap to the face, Mick despised being sent outside. She knew that, all too soon, the air would be too cold to breathe without a scarf over her face, and the ice on the ground would make it too difficult to make it from one place to another without slamming into the sidewalk, but that didn’t make her appreciate the moderately chilly autumn. 

Heaving a huff of frustration as a nearby car barrelled down the street to beat a changing traffic light, the icy breeze dragging off of the vehicle and scattering her hard work into the wind, and Mick rolled her eyes. She was sick of raking meaningless piles of leaves, sick of being pushed aside and asked to do menial tasks just because she had a hard time sitting around in the shop. She could have been doing so much more to help out around the shop! She could organize the storage room, put new stock out on the shelves, or help give aura readings or something - anything! She was so tired of being useless to everyone she cared about.

With a shake of her head, Mick sucked in a breath and sighed before turning back toward the shop. The bell above the door chimed - a replacement for the cackling witch sound they had put up for Halloween - and Mick leaned the rake against the wall by the door before tugging her gloves and hat off and shoving them into the pockets of the maroon, fleece-lined coat her parents had bought her years ago. The pocket zippers had been melted open after she had unceremoniously tossed the coat in front of the heater once, the faux fur lining around the hood was slightly matted after having used it for so many frigid winters, and the elastics in the cuffs of the sleeves had lost their grip a long time ago, but the coat kept her warm and, to Mick, that was all that mattered.

The smell of burning sage filled the small shop, and although Mick would have usually taken a big whiff of it to calm herself, she refrained as a woman with a bag of incense sticks stepped around her to leave. As Mick ditched her coat on the rack behind the counter, she stepped up behind her mom and pressed a kiss to the woman’s cheek before taking a caramel from the dish on the counter and making her way to the back room to see if Miles and Carrie were on their breaks yet. Instead of finding the pair curled up on the couch, talking through the entirety of their break, Mick found her dad sitting in her usual chair, a cup of something in one hand and his phone in the other.

Smiling to herself as she decided to make her presence known, Mick asked, “What happened to doing a tarot reading for Mrs Anderson?”

Looking up from his device with a grin, Brady replied, “She got what she wanted and left already.”

“Let me guess,” Mick began as she perched herself on the armrest of her dad’s chair, “she thought her husband was cheating again and wanted to see if it was her sister or the new neighbor?”

“Almost,” Brady chuckled, placing his phone on his leg as he handed Mick his drink for her to try. “She thought it could be the mailman.”

Grateful she hadn’t taken a sip of her father’s drink, Mick let out a bark of laughter, “She thought Mr Anderson - the pastor of their church - was having an affair with her husband?”

Brady hummed, nodding in confirmation as he rhetorically asked, “Who doesn’t she accuse her husband of cheating with?” 

Mick snickered as she handed her father his drink, “Ironic from the woman who has been divorced five times because of her cheating.”

With a shrug, Brady said, “It’s not our place to judge.”

“True.”

After taking a sip of his drink, Brady said, “Your mom and I are heading out early to meet with some friends from school who are back in town for the week. Do you think you, Miles, Carrie, and the kids can handle the shop until closing?”

Nodding, Mick smiled at the idea as she said, “Yeah, of course. We handled it for months on our own before.”

Groaning at the twinge of pain that had grown familiar in his lower back, Brady regretted all of the reckless things he had done in his teen years as he pushed himself out of his chair. Despite only recently turning forty, his body felt as though it belonged to someone nearing eighty. Brady suppressed a grimace as he stretched before turning to his daughter and saying, “That was before you were possessed by ancient magic.”

Taking in a deep breath, Mick slowly nodded in understanding. Regardless of how much she despised how easily that was everyone’s excuse for giving her lighter tasks, Mick understood where they were coming from. If what happened to her had happened to anybody else in her immediate circle, she would have acted the same. Offering her dad a slight grin, Mick allowed him to lean down and press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “I get it, but honestly, I’m doing pretty well today.”

“Good,” Brady mused. “Try to keep it that way.”

“I will,” Mick claimed as the door to the basement opened, allowing Miles and Carrie to come in.

Brady hummed appreciatively before turning toward the young couple with a smile, “Did you two find that book I told you about?”

“We did,” Carrie said, offering the man her signature smile as Miles held up the thick hardcover book. “Do you really think it’ll help the kids?”

“It should,” Brady stated. “I didn’t get much use out of it, as you know, but it’s been in the family for many generations. If it helped them, why not let the kids use it?”

Miles nodded as he examined the book. The leather bindings were worn and peeling, the spine flexible yet delicate, and it smelled of an old library book that had been left on the shelves for a couple hundred years, but the pages were still crisp, and the ancient calligraphy was very clearly legible. While on the outside, the book certainly looked aged and well-loved, the pages still read as clear as day, making Miles question if it had some sort of protection charm that stood the test of time. Grinning to himself, Miles fleetingly wondered if the book in his hands was the origin of people saying not to judge books by their covers.

Lifting his gaze to meet Brady’s, Miles spoke, “Thanks again, Mr Birch. I know the kids would be interested in diving into actual spells and potions.”

Brady waved him off, “It’s not like I’m getting any use out of it, Miles. However, I do suggest asking your mother to help them with anything involving baking.”

“She is one of the best bakers in Salem,” Mick mused. 

Before Brady could say anything more, the back room opened, and his wife’s head poked inside. “I hate to interrupt,” Mack began, “but it’s almost two, Brady.”

Heaving a sigh, Brady clapped his hands and said, “Well, duty calls, kids.”

As her husband gathered his belongings, Mack asked, “Mick, honey, are you going over to Miles’ house after work?”

“I was thinking about it,” Mick shrugged. “The kids wanted to work on some beginner-level potions.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Brady asked.

“She’d better,” Miles said before Mick could answer. “My mom said she’s making pizza casserole.”

Mick snickered, “I guess I’m staying for dinner then.”

“Alright,” Mack said with a smile, “well, we’ll be back home around six or seven to watch the eclipse if your father can get his butt in gear.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Brady claimed as he pulled his coat around his shoulders. Leaning down, Brady kissed the top of his daughter’s head before whispering to her, “Bring me back some of that casserole.”

“I will,” Mick said with a grin.

“You don’t need any casserole, Brady,” Mack claimed with a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “We’re going out to Hanna Devine’s.”

Brady’s expression said it all. Unlike most of the little bistros and restaurants in the city, Hanna Devine’s was a large building on the corner of a busy street that charged prices through the roof for a portion barely significant enough to qualify as a meal. Between the hassle of finding a parking spot and the extensive waitlist for a single table, the restaurant was usually only inhabited by insane people who didn’t mind paying forty dollars for a small piece of steak or twenty-five bucks for a side order of steamed vegetables. Despite attempting to get his point across with a pleading look, Brady found his wife’s piercing gaze and quickly schooled his expression as he sighed, “Yes, ma’am.”

Rolling her eyes with a smile, Mick turned her gaze back to her daughter and said, “If there’s enough, bring us both back some. Chances are, we’ll still be hungry when we leave.”

Making his way to the door of the room, Brady beamed, “This is why I love you.”

“Because I let you get leftovers?” Mack questioned as Brady kissed her cheek. “What about when we got married or when I had to endure nine months of Mick’s punches to my bladder?”

“Of course I loved you then,” Brady stated. “It’s just that I really wanted that casserole.”

“And because I let you have it,” Mack slowly stated, “that’s your primary reason for loving me now?”

As Brady floundered, scouring his mind for something to say, Mick snickered, “Way to word things, Dad.”

“Good luck getting out of that one,” Carrie chuckled.

“There’s a store you can stop at on the way to Hanna’s that sells shovels since you seem to be in a hurry to dig your own grave, Mr Birch,” Miles said with a grin.

“None of you are helping!” Brady exclaimed, looking around at the three young adults with a gleam in his eyes that begged for them to shut up.

Choosing to end her husband’s struggle, Mack snickered, patting him on the arm fondly, “I’m just screwing with you. Now, come on, let’s get on the road before school gets out, and we’re stuck behind eight different buses.”

With a sigh of relief, Brady relaxed, turning back toward the kids with a small smile as he said, “Be good, remember to lock up the shop, and please, for the love of all things holy, remember to bring us back some casserole if there’s any left.”

As Mick gave her dad a mock salute, Miles chuckled, “We’ve got everything under control.”

“Enjoy your dinner with friends,” Carrie said, offering the older couple a wave as they left the room. Once the door was closed, the blonde turned to Mick with a smile and asked, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m fine, for once,” the brunette replied. “I haven’t had any headaches since this morning when the trash truck came, and I’ve gotten through most of the day without needing to step out.”

“That’s good,” Miles said thoughtfully as he set the book for the kids on the couch. “Do you feel up to taking the register until closing?”

Eager to feel useful again, Mick quickly nodded as she said, “Yeah, of course. Are you going to restock or are you going to pick up the kids?”

Checking his watch, Miles said, “I’ll probably pick them up. If I get there early and find their bikes, I’ll put them on the rack before the bell rings.”

Leading the way to the main room of the shop, Mick mused, “Soon, they’ll be needing a ride every day.”

“Especially since it snowed two nights ago,” Miles sighed as he rounded the counter.

“Don’t mention that word,” Carrie said with a shiver. “I was hoping it would hold off until Christmas or something and then never come back.”

“Wishful thinking,” Mick snorted.

Carrie sighed as she slumped against the counter, resting her chin in the palm of her hand, “At least we’re not supposed to get any more for a while.”

“When did you hear that?” Mick wondered.

Tugging her phone from her pocket and unlocking it, Carrie swiped around for a moment before showing her friend her weather app. “My phone says the next week or so is clear.”

Mick examined the weather listing before tapping on the screen, “We’ve got rain on Saturday and Wednesday, though. That can become snow if it gets cooler out.”

“But the app says it’s just rain,” Carrie said hopefully.

“It’s New England,” Miles chuckled as he zipped up his jacket. “The forecast lies.”

Carrie let out a resigned sigh, “I know, but I’m staying as optimistic as possible.”

“Good luck with that,” Miles muttered, his breath brushing across Carrie’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “Do you guys want anything while I’m out?”

“A million dollars,” Mick joked.

“Weathermen who won't lie,” Carrie added.

“A will to live.” 

“Magical powers.”

Glancing between the pair, Miles sighed and rolled his eyes, “I meant things I can pick up from the gas station.”

“Ah,” Carrie breathed. “In that case, I’ll take some cherry Twizzlers.”

“I guess I’ll take some cheesy popcorn,” Mick said with a grin.

“Puffcorn or Smartfood?” Miles asked.

“Smartfood,” Mick said before thanking her friend.

“Weirdos,” Miles mused as he typed in their requests on his phone, knowing the pair would be sharing snacks in no time.

“Proud of it,” the two girls said in startling unison before turning to each other and laughing.

With a shake of his head and a fond smile, Miles pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed out the door, passing the shop’s picture windows on his way to his Jeep. Smiling to herself, Mick turned her attention to the music playing over the store’s speakers, switching the radio station to one she knew both she and Carrie enjoyed. As something other than smooth jazz filled the shop, Carrie bopped her head to the beat with a smile before turning her gaze to Mick once more. 

The last two weeks had felt like an eternity. She had watched Mick struggle the first couple of days - the brunette unable to pull herself out of her thoughts. Carrie had spent some time talking things over with Mick during that time, listening to her ramble nonsensically about all that had happened to her and all the struggles she faced. The first two days, Mick had been in a daze, operating on a repetitive cycle out of habit more than anything. Carrie spent a lot of time helping at the register as Mick would often stare off into space or lock herself away in the back room due to headaches. The first few days were difficult as Mick asked people to give her time to think and process, but it seemed to everyone that she had closed herself off from everything and everyone. 

Mick’s relationships with everyone who was there that night had grown strained in that time - the only ones not suffering being Butchy and Lela, as they were only there for the aftermath. Whilst saying they hadn’t always gotten along well in school was an understatement, Carrie and Mick had grown close after Miles started dating the blonde. Over time, a bond had formed, but after Mick’s possession, Carrie could feel the distance between them growing once more. Everyone could. Though the brunette never outright pushed anybody away, they all knew she had come close to it more than once.

Carrie had never seen Mick so despondent and detached as she was in those first days. It took Miles climbing the tree in the Birch family’s backyard and climbing in through Mick’s window for her to begin talking to anyone who had been there. Understandably, Miles was the first person she opened up to as they had always been inexplicably close, but then she opened up to Carrie, and the blonde got to see more of the girl’s inner thoughts laid out before her like a jigsaw puzzle.

The strain Mick felt was palpable. Her hurt was nearly insurmountable, the stress was overwhelming, and the pain she felt whilst reliving and retelling her side of things was evident in her eyes. It took just shy of a week before Mick felt comfortable having the kids around her again. The thought that whatever was left in her might come back to hurt the kids had plagued her night and day, but after hearing that Vivien blamed herself for the older girl being distant, Mick forced herself to meet with them in the Common. They sat on opposite sides of the pavilion Saturday night, Mick asking Miles to tie her to the table with a scarf to keep her from hurting anybody, and that was the first time Carrie felt like crying about Mick’s situation. The thought that the bubbly, doting brunette was so afraid of hurting the kids made Carrie saddened and sick at the same time. Mick didn’t deserve to be scared of every move she made.

By the end of their conversation that night, things had begun to heal, but anyone who knew them could still feel the remnants of strain between Mick and Vivien. Things were slowly getting better between them, but Carrie quickly took note of the wistful glimpses Vivien would sneak of the older girl. Though Carrie, like everyone else, was sure things would return to normal - or some semblance of it, at the very least - she knew it would take time. 

Listening to Mick hum along to the radio, Carrie glanced around to guarantee the shop was empty of customers before clearing her throat and asking, “Speaking of magical powers, I heard that Vivien was trying to find a way to give you some the other day.”

Brown eyes lifted from Mick’s phone and fleetingly met Carrie’s azure gaze before Mick shrugged and returned her focus to her phone, “She was, yeah.”

“I think it’s sweet that she’s trying so hard.”

To Carrie’s chagrin, Mick only shrugged again, “I guess so, but I wish she wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Carrie questioned. “I thought you wanted powers like theirs?”

“That was before I was possessed,” Mick admitted, meeting Carrie’s gaze once more. “I would have done anything for some magic back then.”

“But now?”

“Now I’m scared to even think about having magic.”

Carrie’s smile faltered at the weight of Mick’s statement. In a way, she should have expected that to be Mick’s answer, but in reality, she hadn’t thought about it from the brunette’s perspective. Vivien had gone to Carrie looking for help researching how to give someone magic, and although the pair had spent hours scouring through old books filled with runes and spells and potions, they hadn’t found anything that would allow Vivien to do what she wanted to.

Attempting to appear unfazed, Carrie asked, “How come? With your family’s long, magical bloodline, I would’ve throught you’d want to follow them.”

“I did,” Mick sighed, setting her phone aside in favor of the conversation at hand. “I wanted it more than anything. But now that I know how dangerous I could be if I let power get to my head, I’m sort of glad my dad cut off the line when he did.”

Taking in a slow breath, Carrie asked, “That really bothered you, huh?”

Mick hummed with a nod, “It’s hard to act as though it doesn’t, but I’m trying. I just-” Mick cut herself off with a sigh, “I wish I never read that damn book.”

“What-?”

Before Carrie could get anything more out, Mick cut her off, “If I’d never read that book, I wouldn’t have to live with constant headaches or people looking at me like I’m made of glass or everyone acting as though they need to walk on fucking eggshells around me!” Stopping to take in a breath, Mick ran her hands over her hair before sighing, “What hurts the most is living with the fact that all of this is my fault.”

Though Carrie didn’t want to push her luck with Mick, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How on earth is any of this your fault?”

“If I hadn’t tried to weasel my way into magic,” Mick began slowly, meeting the blonde’s gaze with nothing but sincerity in her caramel eyes, “we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t like you read the book on purpose,” Carrie offered. “Even Butchy said that Casper knocked it over and you just read the first page you came across.”

“He’s right,” Mick confirmed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that, if I hadn’t made the black flame candle or been so determined to give myself magic, none of this would have happened.”

Carrie sighed, placing a hand on Mick’s arm in the hope that it offered the girl some semblance of comfort, “You don’t know that for a fact.”

“That’s just it,” Mick said, a dry, humorless chuckle falling from her lips as her exhausted brown eyes found Carrie’s vibrant blue, “I do.”

“Have a great night,” Royce said as he handed a paper bag to the last customer of the day. He didn’t know how Miles and the girls could handle working there all day, dealing with people in various moods, and handling children being generally obnoxious; he could only handle it for a few hours without wanting to leave. He didn’t mind most of the people who came and went, but there were a select few who were just pure negativity. While Mondays were usually slow in the shop, Royce was surprised to find the clock already ticking over to five as he looked up at the clock. Maybe the time had flown because he, Bentley, and Vivien had the chance to get their homework done between customers for once. Or, as Miles had teasingly suggested, it was due to the fact that he kept watching Vivien help people find crystals.

Royce discretely rolled his eyes at the thought - of course, Miles would tease him for something so small. It was payback for when Royce teased the shit out of Miles when he got with Carrie. Although Miles kept his relationship with Carrie under wraps from their mom, he hadn’t been so lucky when it came to his brothers. At first, his relationship with Carrie was nonexistent, but after a little over a year of them being together and seeing their mom gradually grow to enjoy having the blonde around, Royce found himself not minding Carrie nearly as much as he had initially. Now that he got along alright with Carrie, it was easier to tease Miles about the relationship, ironically giving Miles the right to tease him about Vivien in return.

It wasn’t like Miles and Bentley hadn’t teased him about his fondness for Vivien long before Carrie came into the picture, but it seemed as though Miles felt the situation evened out the playing field. It made sense in a way. Not only was Vivien one of his best friends, but everyone around them knew he had a thing for her. It wasn’t exactly a secret. In a way, he was sure Vivien knew as well, but he couldn’t tell how she felt on the matter. She never pushed him away - it wasn’t in her nature to anyway - but she also never acted upon what was going on. If she felt anything toward him, she never said, but then again, he never really did either. All he knew was that he adored her and, regardless of her feelings toward him, he would care about her until she told him to do otherwise.

Tearing his gaze away from Vivien once more as the door clicked shut, the bells tinkling a final farewell, Royce took in a deep breath and looked around the store for his younger brother. Almost on cue, Bentley pushed himself from his seat on the floor where he’d been reading comic books and scurried to the door, flipping the lock into place with a smile. Turning back to his brother and Vivien, the blond excitedly asked, “Is it potion time now?”

Chuckling as Royce tugged the cash register drawer from its confines, Vivien nodded, “I think it is.”

Setting the drawer on the shelf under the register, Royce leaned against the counter and asked, “Why don’t you go back and tell them that the lady finally left and that we can leave?”

Sending his brother a mock salute, Bentley beamed and set his comic book on the counter before saying, “Sir, yes, sir,” and taking off for the back room, the door swinging back and forth upon his departure. Royce shook his head, sighing as Bentley disappeared. For the greater part of the last week, he’d been subjected to Bentley’s ramblings on potions and which ones he was willing to make. While Royce was glad his younger brother was excited, he sort of wished it wasn’t the only thing they talked about when nobody else was around.

Vivien chuckled, leaning against the counter with a smile, “You know, I think it’s pretty cool that he’s so interested in all this witchy stuff.”

“Yeah, it is,” Royce agreed with a nod. Taking in a breath, Royce began sorting the money from the cash register as Vivien picked up the logbook and started writing down how many of each bill they had. As he finished with the twenties and set them aside, Royce turned to Vivien and asked, “Wait, didn’t you say something earlier about a magic thing you needed to talk about?”

Penciling in the number of bills Royce had counted, Vivien glanced up and nodded, “I did, but let’s finish this first and we’ll talk with the others about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Despite his visible skepticism, Royce gave the brunette a slight nod and said, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Vivien nodded her confirmation before urging Royce to continue counting. By the time they were done and the money was put into the safe under the register, the shop’s speakers had been turned off, and the streetlamps outside were on, moths fluttering around them and casting shadows on the sidewalk. Closing the safe and locking it, Vivien followed Royce to the back room where Mick and Miles were debating whether the herbs they had received in the latest shipment should be placed with the hanging herbs or ground and placed with the jars of herbs while Bentley talked Carrie’s ear off on the couch. As Royce latched the swinging door to keep it from moving, Mick paused in her tirade, glancing over at the young pair as they entered the room.

Sensing Mick’s gaze as the conversations in the room stalled, Vivien slowly turned in the older girl’s direction, raising a hand in a wave as she spoke, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Mick returned as Miles dropped the issue in favor of observing the interaction. Vivien and Mick hadn’t talked often since Halloween, and although Miles had encouraged both of them to step up and put in the effort, his advice seemed to go in one ear and out the other as the two danced on eggshells around each other. After Miles nudged his longtime friend, encouraging her to put in a bit more effort, Mick smiled and said, “I like your hoodie.”

Vivien glanced down and allowed herself to grin. Her blue and yellow hoodie had been bought off of Etsy and was embroidered with a subtle nod toward the most recent Five Nights at Freddy’s game - a small logo for the Security Breach’s daycare declaring Vivien as a staff member. She had bought more than just the one hoodie from the Etsy shop, blasting her way through most of her first official paycheck as she bought one of each of her favorite characters’ fleece hoodies and matching sweatpants. Despite her love of the game, Vivien had chosen to take the more discreet route in choosing her outfit for the day, keeping things moderately simple to avoid unnecessary attention. Although her hair had covered the design for most of the day, she had pulled her hair back while counting the money, so it seemed only fitting that the one person who had gotten her interested in the franchise was also the one to notice the detail. 

Lifting her head, Vivien smiled and began indirectly quoting the game, “I figured we could finger paint, tell some stories, maybe drink some Fizzy Fazz until our heads explode, and then stay up all night.”

“As fun as that sounds,” Carrie began, “I would much rather we keep our heads intact, thank you very much.”

Sighing as she theatrically rolled her eyes, Vivien huffed, “You’re no fun!”

Mick let out a slight snicker, “As long as we keep the lights on, I doubt any of us will lose our heads.”

As Vivien snorted, dissolving into giggles at Mick’s hinted joke, Carrie glanced between the pair and said, “I’m just going to assume that’s something from the game.”

“It is,” Bentley confirmed.

“And you’re not missing much,” Miles added as he crossed the room to gather his belongings.

“Just a murderous animatronic daycare attendant who hunts you down and kills you if you turn the lights off,” Royce finished with a smirk aimed at the blonde, “that’s all.”

“That’s all?” Carrie echoed, mildly concerned that they had all found an interest in such a game. Attempting to process the thought as both Royce and Bentley nodded in confirmation, Carrie’s eyes widened slightly before closing as she shook her head and sighed, “I don’t know how you can find that entertaining.”

“You would if you played it,” Vivien chuckled. 

“Doubtful.”

Choosing to steer the conversation away from the topic at hand, Miles leaned against the armrest of the couch and tucked his hands into his pockets as he said, “Anyway, does anyone need to grab anything before we go?”

Despite the others shaking their heads, Royce said, “Viv said she wanted to talk about something after closing.”

Though she hated the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on her, Vivien was surprisingly calm as she nodded, “I did, yeah.”

“What’s up?” Bentley asked as he moved to sit criss-cross on the couch.

Taking a deep breath as Mick pulled a chair out from the table they usually ate lunch at on weekends and sat down, Vivien thought back to her time at school as she said, “I was on my way to the vending machine at school and I ran into Serena.”

“How is she doing now that she and that other girl have gone their separate ways?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah,” Mick began, “are they leaving you guys alone now?”

“I mean, yeah, but that’s not the point,” Vivien said. “The point is, when I went to walk around her, she grabbed my arm and it was like the whole school lost color.”

Curiously, Miles’ head tipped to the side as he asked, “Like the lights went out?” 

“I didn’t notice anything,” Bentley mentioned.

“No, not like that,” Vivien sighed. Taking a moment to think of something to compare it to, Vivien gestured to the group as she spoke, “Okay, do you guys remember that scene from Harry Potter where Harry meets Dumbledore in the limbo version of the train station and there’s that creepy Voldemort thing under the bench?”

As everyone began nodding, Mick asked, “After Voldemort tried killing him in the forest?”

Vivien nodded, “Exactly. Serena held my arm and the whole school looked like that. Then, when I looked back at her, she was standing in some kind of glass case, banging on the walls and screaming.”

As though Vivien had unplugged a hidden speaker, the room grew silent. Carrie’s sapphire eyes flickered to Mick before landing back on Vivien as Mick’s chocolate eyes flitted down to the floor. Miles took in the seriousness and sincerity in Vivien’s face before moving his gaze onto Mick, wondering to himself if what Vivien described was something she had seen two weeks prior. As Bentley searched Vivien’s face for any sign that she was joking, Royce took a seat beside his younger brother. 

Looking up at Vivien, the middle Murphy brother asked, “Is that why you looked so pale when I found you?”

“That’s part of it,” Vivien nodded. “My blood pressure was low anyway, but the whole Serena thing didn’t exactly help.”

Miles uncrossed his arms as he asked, “How are you now?”

“I’m fine, but that’s not what matters right now,” Vivien sighed. “After Serena let me go, everything around us went back to normal, but there was something about her that just felt off to me.”

Cautiously, Carrie asked, “Like what?”

“Like she wasn’t herself,” Vivien explained. 

“She’s always kind of snarky and rude,” Royce mused with a roll of his eyes.

Vivien nodded, “Well, yeah, but there was this sort of direct, emotionless, borderline-cold tone under it all. It was kind of like - well, I don’t know, actually. It’s hard to describe.”

For the first time since Vivien explained what her interaction with Serena was like, Mick spoke, her tone soft but tense as she asked, “Sort of like she was in the car, but someone else was at the wheel?”

Vivien’s head turned, slowly finding Mick’s form as the brunette’s head lifted, her dark eyes finding Vivien’s with relative ease. Taking in the older girl’s expression, Vivien took in a breath and slowly nodded as she muttered, “Yeah.”

Although the room had grown tense, Carrie scooted to the edge of her seat and attempted to smile as she suggested, “That doesn’t mean Serena’s possessed. She could be having trouble at home or something; that can change someone’s behavior.” 

“But what about the vision Viv saw?” Bentley asked.

Before Carrie could answer, Mick spoke again, “From what I remember, I never gave anybody visions.”

“You didn’t,” Miles confirmed with a slight shake of his head, “but that doesn’t rule it out entirely.”

Trying to offer something other than the worst possible scenario, Carrie stood from the couch and made her way to the growing pile of books the kids had left by the bookshelf as she said, “What if it’s something different entirely?”

“Like what?” Royce asked sarcastically. “It sounds a lot like Serena is possessed.”

“And maybe she is,” Carrie said as she began pulling books from the pile and setting them aside. Taking a book from the stack with a smile, Carrie held it up for the others to see as she asked, “But what if there’s a different way to go about this? That way, we don’t have to go about doing another exorcism.”

“What do you have in mind?” Mick asked as Carrie began flipping through the old, worn book.

“My first thought was astral projections,” Carrie confessed. “I’ve been looking through some of these books to see if I could figure out how the kids’ abilities could branch into other forms of magic over time and training, but the only one to offer any help was this one.”

Peering over the blonde’s shoulder as the pages flicked by, Vivien asked, “What did you find?”

Carrie hummed until she found the proper page, pointing to an extensive paragraph as she began reading aloud, “‘Astral projection, also known as astral travel or out-of-body experience, is the practice of separating one’s consciousness from their physical body and traveling to the astral realm. The astral realm is said to be a non-physical realm that exists parallel to the physical world, where energy and consciousness exist in a different form. In this realm, one can explore different planes of existence, communicate with spirits and other entities, and gain a deeper understanding of themselves and the universe. Some records in history suggest that witches as far back as medeival times used these projections to communicate with others possessing the same abilities. One of the most infamous records of astral projection was written by a supposed witch who was later hung for witchcraft during the Salem Witch Trials. The document speaks of witches talking to one another on another plane of existence, warning other accused witches of what was to come.’”

Following along as best as she could over Carrie’s shoulder, Vivien said, “That could be what happened.”

“It sounds like it,” Bentley mused.

“I would prefer that over having to deal with another possessed person roaming through Salem,” Mick piped up.

“Hang on,” Royce began as he stood from his seat. “What if it’s both?”

“Both?” Miles asked.

Royce nodded, “What if the real Serena is possessed, but she’s projecting to Vivien as a way of asking for help?”

After a moment of silence passed over the room, Mick said, “That makes sense. When I was possessed, it felt like I was trapped inside myself. The real Serena being trapped inside a glass box is sort of fitting.”

“So,” Bentley drawled as he glanced around at everybody, “what do we do about it?”

“We could lure her to the church,” Miles offered.

“No, we can’t,” Mick sighed. “Most of the churches in the area are either having meetings for Thanksgiving food donations or hosting events tonight.”

“How did you find that out?” Royce asked with a raised eyebrow.

“My parents were going to use one of the dining halls for their school reunion,” Mick shrugged.

“Alright,” Vivien breathed. “Where else could we take her?”

“What about a cemetery?” Carrie suggested. “Those are hallowed ground, right?”

“Yeah, because nothing screams serial killer quite like luring someone to a cemetary after dark,” Royce snipped, earning himself a nudge to the ribs from Bentley.

“How about we lure her to our house?” Miles offered.

“Are you insane?” Bentley asked as everyone else began arguing over the thought. “Not only would it be stupid to bring a possessed witch to our house, but Mom’s home tonight. If Serena tries to fight us, we can’t fight back in front of her.”

“Hear me out,” Miles began. Once the room was quiet once more, he continued, “Because mom bakes a lot, she’s got a ton of salt in the pantry. If we go around the house and put up a salt ring to protect ourselves inside the house, Serena can’t touch us.”

“Her magic would bounce off,” Mick said thoughtfully. 

Miles nodded, “Exactly.”

Once the concept had settled within everyone’s minds, Royce spoke up, “How are we going to get her there?”

Before Miles could come up with anything, Carrie gestured between Vivien and Royce as she asked, “Do either of you share a class with her that has a test coming up; something that would require a lot of notes for?”

Vivien shook her head, “We both have science with her, but we don’t have any tests until next Friday.”

“I have geography with her,” Royce sighed. “We’ve got a test on Thursday for the semester’s closing grades.”

“Well,” Carrie began, a devilish smile tugging at her glossy lips, “you could text her and say that you have a bunch of notes for the test that she can use if she needs them.”

“How would that draw her in?” Miles wondered.

“Normally, it wouldn’t,” Vivien explained, “but if she is possessed, whatever it is won’t know that.”

“Exactly,” Carrie agreed, beaming proudly at the brunette.

Royce thought for a moment before slowly speaking, “So I lure her to the house with geography notes - that much I get - but what do we do after that?”

“We’ll figure it out as we go,” Mick said as she rose from her seat. “For now, let’s gather some protection crystals and get going before we lose our opportunity.”

“What do you suggest?” Carrie asked.

Instead of answering directly, Mick turned to Vivien on her way to the front of the shop and asked, “Vivien?”

“What?” the young brunette asked as she followed Mick to the shop.

With a proud smile, Mick held the door open for the others as she explained, “This is your area of expertise, gremlin; what do you think?”

As a surge of pride coursed through Vivien’s veins, she beamed. Reining herself in, Vivien glanced over the round tables covered in baskets of crystals before humming, “Maybe some black obsidian or malachite to keep toxic energy away, and moldavite for some good luck?”

Royce and Bentley descended on the tables, pulling crystals from their containers and tucking them in their pockets before making their way back to where Vivien and Mick stood. “Anything else?” Bentley asked.

“What about fluorite or citrine?” Royce asked. “You said those are pretty lucky.”

“They are,” Vivien agreed, “but more for personal luck than anything.”

“I think we should be good with what we’ve got,” Mick said. “I have some sage in my car that we can leave on the front steps to ward off any evil intentions.”

“And we’ll have enough salt to keep her out just in case,” Miles agreed as he fished his keys from his pocket.

Clapping her hands together, Carrie smiled as she said, “In that case, let’s hit the road before it gets much darker out.”

Though the others followed Carrie and Miles to the back room to lock up, Vivien stared at the crystals before her, wondering if she had made the right call. Glancing back over her shoulder at the group, Vivien sighed and took a step forward, shoving a small slab of black onyx, a few pieces of smithsonite, and a couple of shards of moonstone into her pocket before turning and following the others out, slipping the lock into place behind her. Trailing behind the others, Vivien picked up the pace, pulling the already locked door closed after grabbing her coat and backpack from the hooks on the back wall and rushing to catch up with the others who had already begun rounding the building. As she tugged on her coat, Vivien allowed Bentley to hold the gate open for her, thanking him as she slung her backpack strap onto her shoulder.

Miles unlocked his Jeep and opened the passenger side doors for his brothers and girlfriend as Mick made her way to the beat-up Volkswagen she had bought from one of the older guys who frequented the shop. Before Viviuen could climb inside the Jeep, Miles closed the door behind Bentley. “Not so fast, kid.”

Looking up at her pseudo-older brother, Vivien raised an eyebrow and asked, “What; are you planning on shoving me in the trunk?”

“Not after last time,” Miles said with a snort. “Look, Ethan left his junk in the back seat this morning and I barely have enough room for the boys as it is.”

Noticing the way Miles refused to look her in the eyes, Vivien sighed, “You just want me to ride with Mick, don’t you?”

Apologetic, icy blue eyes flickered up to meet Vivien’s as the brunette crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry, mon étoile, but I think she needs you now.”

Slowly tearing her gaze away from Miles and letting her eyes drift onto the older brunette who appeared to be struggling to open her old bus’ driver’s door, Vivien let out a deep sigh, “Fine, but you owe me.”

“I know,” Miles said with a gracious smile, bringing an arm around the girl as he walked her to the back of the Jeep. “Thank you, kiddo.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vivien brushed off, leaning her head against Miles for a moment before moving out from his hold and making her way to the old Volkswagen just a few parking spaces down. Upon approaching the vehicle, Vivien called out, “Did you lock yourself out again or something?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, Mick looked up and laughed, “For once, no. The doors have been sticking lately because of the cold. Do you think you could climb in through the passenger side and kick it open?”

“Why not just climb in before me and we can go?” Vivien asked, gesturing to the car as Miles started his Jeep.

“I have the door partially open and it won’t stop dinging unless I close it, but how come you’re riding with me?” Mick asked as she let go of the latch. “I thought you’d be riding with Miles and Carrie.”

Vivien shrugged in an attempt to act nonchalant as she rounded the large vehicle and yanked the passenger door open, “Ethan left a bunch of shit in the car, so there’s no room, but I also just wanted to ride with you anyway.”

“You do?” Mick asked as she stepped away from the door, her voice muffled by the thick metal and glass of the car.

“Well, yeah,” Vivien said as she dropped into the driver’s seat and began kicking the door. Once the heavy door popped open, she leaned out to Mick and said, “I feel like we haven’t really hung out since Halloween and I miss you.”

Hoping the younger girl couldn’t see the pain in her eyes as she took her spot in the driver’s seat, Mick spoke softly, “I miss you too, gremlin.”

As the old bus’ engine roared to life and the clunky radio sputtered through static to the first available station, Vivien tugged her seatbelt on and offered the girl to her left a smile as she said, “I’m sort of glad you missed me.”

“You are?” Mick asked as she pulled onto the streets behind Miles’ Jeep. “How come?”

“It felt like you were shutting me out after everything that happened,” Vivien admitted as she watched the shop’s storefront disappear in the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Mick muttered. “Things have been hard since Halloween.”

“I get it,” Vivien nodded, looking over to the older girl. “Believe me, after almost setting our kitchen on fire the other night, I get it.”

Despite offering the younger girl a laugh, Mick shook her head, “Somehow, I don’t think it’s quite the same.”

Vivien chuckled but took in a deep breath as she admitted, “I get what you mean, though. Things just aren’t the same anymore.”

“They aren’t.”

For a while, the only noise in the car was the radio between them, the sound of Harry Styles’ voice coming through the faint static of the scratchy speakers as his song As It Was began playing just loud enough to be heard over the engine. Vivien tried not to scoff at the irony of the situation, choosing to take in a slow, deep breath as she softly admitted, “Sometimes, I wish we never got magic in the first place.”

Pulling to a stop at a red light, Mick’s dark eyes flitted over to her young friend as she asked, “Why on earth would you want that?”

A ghost of a grin tugged at Vivien’s lips as she turned to Mick and admitted, “If we never got our magic, things never would have changed. The boys and I wouldn’t have to keep secrets from everyone we care about, we would all be able to live normal lives, you never would have been possessed…” taking in a deep breath, Vivien allowed her words to drift off and looked away as she finished, “you and I would still be close.”

“We can be close again,” Mick reminded her as she reached over and took hold of Vivien’s hand. “We can go back to our mall trips and sleepovers and stuff. It’ll just take some time getting there again.”

“I know,” Vivien breathed, squeezing Mick’s hand as she turned back toward the older girl. “It’s just… there are times when I miss just being a normal girl - worrying about prom and grades and friendships instead of having to worry about setting fire to my chemistry lab or summoning some ancient demon because I read a spell wrong.”

Sending the girl a wary look as the light turned green, Mick asked, “You didn’t actually do those things, did you?”

“No,” Vivien laughed as Mick pulled away from the traffic light. “I’m just saying that things were easier before and I sort of miss having that simplicity.”

Nodding in understanding, Mick took in a deep breath and said, “Well, if it means anything to you, I think you guys are doing amazingly. You’ve really come into your powers.”

“Thanks,” Vivien said with a smile. “I just wish I could give you some of it.”

Sending the girl a quick smile as she turned onto Forrester Street, Mick said, “I know you do, gremlin, but I guess some things just aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Mick said as she pulled into the driveway behind Miles. “I’ve sort of come to terms with it all.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Vivien offered.

“It is.” As Mick pushed her door open and released Vivien’s hand, she said, “Just know that I’m grateful to be able to watch you and the boys grow into your magic.”

“Thanks, Mickie,” Vivien said with a smile.

Mick nodded before siding out from her side of the car and slamming the door shut, making her way to the front of the vehicle, where Vivien met up with her. Following the others inside through the garage, Royce said, “I texted Serena, and she said she would be over after having something for dinner.”

“That should give us more than enough time to salt the house,” Miles said. 

Bentley hurried up the steps to the door leading inside the house as he said, “I’ll distract Mom if you guys want to start grabbing salt.”

Stepping inside the kitchen, however, the group was surprised to find Dorothea tending to the crock pot on the kitchen counter. The older woman turned to her children and their gaggle of friends with a smile as she spoke, “You’re late.”

“Sorry, Mama,” the Murphy brothers replied on instinct.

Dorothea brushed them off with a slight wave before urging them into the kitchen, “Come get a bowl. I think we’ll eat in the living room tonight. We can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Cautiously stepping up to fulfill his role, Bentley said, “That sounds great, Mama, but can we set aside some food for Mick’s parents first? They’re going to something at Hanna Devine’s, and they said they’d still be hungry later.”

“That’s fine,” Dorothea claimed, glancing over Bentley at the girl in question. “You should know I always make enough for leftovers.”

“Thanks,” Mick said with a smile. 

As soon as the woman turned to pull bowls from the cabinet, Miles grabbed Royce by the wrist and pulled toward the pantry. However, before they could do more than open the door, Dorothea’s voice stopped them, “Not so fast, boys.” Stilling against the door, Miles and Royce shared a startled look before leaning back to see their mother slowly turn back toward them with a knowing look on her face. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Grabbing popcorn for movie night?” Royce offered tentatively.

“No need, I already got it out,” the older woman said, gesturing to the box of microwavable popcorn bags on the counter. “What were you looking for this time? More salt?”

Miles tried to appear as nonchalant as possible as he stammered, “Wh-What? What are you- what do you mean?”

“Don’t think I didn’t notice all of my salt going missing on Halloween,” Dorothea said with a shake of her head. “Or Royce’s laundry not needing to be done at all in the last two weeks, or the cookies in the jar never moving despite the crumbs all over the counter, or Bentley’s chocolate milk magically refilling every morning when I’m not looking.”

Stunned by the woman’s intuition, Bentley’s eyes widened as he slowly turned back toward his mom and asked, “You saw that?”

“I’m not blind, mon âme,” Dorothea told Bentley, a glimmer of something knowingly mischievous in her eyes as she smiled at her youngest. “Even without my own magic, I would be able to figure it out eventually.”

“Your own magic?” Carrie repeated curiously.

“You have magic?” Mick asked.

“That I do, lutin d’eau,” Dorothea said with a nod. “How else would my children have their abilities?”

“My parents don’t have magic,” Vivien said with a shrug.

Sending the young girl a look that made her begin doubting herself, the woman asked, “Are you sure about that?”

Vivien opened her mouth to reply but found the words dying off in her throat as she slowly admitted, “Not anymore.”

“So, wait,” Miles began, “Mom, you’re a witch?”

Dorothea nodded, “Have been since I was about sixteen, yes.”

“And you knew we had magic?” Royce asked.

“It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” Dorothea chuckled. “Most people who have had their magic for a while can tell when another magical person is around. The energy is different.”

“What are your powers?” Bentley asked.

Gesturing to the food on the counter, Dorothea claimed, “Most of the time, I use magic in my foods. Before you leave the house, I make breakfast with protection charms or herbs. Before bed, you have some of my special cookies to make you sleep peacefully. I make sure that, no matter what, you are protected and happy while eating the things you like.”

Although every other person looked reasonably impressed with the matriarch’s claim, Miles was the first to ask, “How did we not know?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known from me,” Dorothea shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “I wasn’t always a master chef or baker.”

With his jaw practically on the floor, Royce grinned as he asked, “Have you ever spelled us without us knowing?”

“Of course,” the woman replied. “Why do you think I always offered you goodies when you thought you would be in trouble?”

“Those were magic brownies?” Vivien asked, stepping up to the woman and rifling through one of the overhead cabinets before pulling down a glass jar of cookies and brownies. Setting the jar on the counter and pulling a brownie from the jar, she asked, “Can I have one? What will it make me do?”

Curious to see the outcome, Dorothea smirked and gestured for the girl to eat the baked treat, “Why don’t you tell me?”

Vivien eyed the brownie for a moment before quickly taking a bite, keeping anyone from stopping her. As Carrie gasped and Mick and Miles stepped closer, Dorothea raised a hand and shook her head with an amused smile, making them stop in their tracks as Vivien hummed around the brownie, “You always make the best brownies.”

“Thank you,” Dorothea chuckled. 

“No, like, seriously,” Vivien muttered as she swallowed. “I swear, if I ever get married, I would want a giant tray of just your brownies instead of a cake.”

“I’ll be sure to write that down,” the woman said with a smile. “Now, do me a favor and turn toward your friends.”

Not one to disobey the woman, Vivien turned, fluttering the fingers of her free hand in greeting as she took another bite of her brownie, “Now what?”

“Tell me what you think of each of them.”

Glancing curiously at the older woman, Vivien shrugged and swallowed the food in her mouth before allowing her gaze to land on Miles as she spoke, “Miles is the older brother I always wanted but never got. I can always call him if I need help with anything, and he’s supportive of everything I do. If it weren’t for him and Riven, I would be overworking myself constantly and struggling with a lot of mental health issues.”

Despite appearing minutely worried for Vivien as she took a final bite of her brownie, Miles’ expression softened as he asked, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Vivien said, clapping her hands together to rid them of crumbs. “I have a tendency to throw myself into things without any regard for my own well-being, but you always make me step back and think first. Riven helps when he can, but you’re always there for me, sort of like the big brother I always pictured in my head, but never got in real life.”

Before Miles could say anything more, Dorothea nudged the girl and asked, “What about Mick, Carrie, or the boys?”

“Well,” Vivien began, “Mick has known me since I was a baby and has been looking out for me like a sister for as long as I can remember. We used to hang out a lot, but since she was possessed on Halloween, she’s been distant.” Mick’s gaze fell to the old, creaky planks of wood beneath her feet, but she didn’t get much time to think as Vivien said, “I don’t know how to approach her most of the time, but I love her no matter what.” 

Carrie placed a hand on Mick’s arm, sending the brunette a smile as her gaze snapped up to Vivien once more. “We’ll work on it together,” Mick offered.

“I know,” Vivien said. “Anyway, as for Carrie, I wasn’t sure what to think of you growing up because Mick said you were stuck up and prissy, but Miles liked you because you because you got along really well when you worked together on a project. Also, when the town was doing The Wizard of Oz a few years back, I wanted to be Dorothy, but you got the role instead because I was way too young, and I didn’t like that at the time which made me not like you until we started working on the show together and you were actually pretty cool with me. I really like you now and think that you’re a great addition to our little group.”

Despite the evident confusion on Vivien’s face as she finished speaking, Carrie’s signature smile appeared as she thanked the younger girl. Before giving Vivien the chance to ask questions, Dorothea cut in, “What about Bentley? How do you feel about him?”

As though a rubber band had snapped her back into place, Vivien’s gaze landed on Bentley, and she began, “Bentley is a lot like Oliver, and I would protect him with my life if I had to. He’s like this little golden retriever puppy that just showed up in my life one day, and I decided to keep him out of love. Even though he plays it off like no big deal, he’s very talented and is very emotionally intelligent. He knows when someone isn’t feeling right and will go out of his way to help them. He’s been family to me practically my whole life, and I think that, if platonic soulmates are a thing, he’s definitely one of mine.”

Deciding to wrap everything up instead of talking about what Vivien had said, Bentley looked to Royce and gestured to him as he asked, “What about Rolls?”

“Actually,” Dorothea interrupted, placing a hand over Vivien’s mouth before the girl could give more information than she wanted to, “I think that’s enough for now.”

As the woman slowly released Vivien and handed her the glass of water she had been sipping out of while making dinner, Vivien asked, “What was in that thing?”

“That was one of my truth-seeking brownies,” Dorothea claimed. “With a small dose of a potion mixed in the chocolate, one bite would make the one eating it tell the truth until the magic wore off with time or, in this case, water. Anytime the boys would get into trouble growing up, I would give them something like this to make sure I knew what had actually happened.”

“So that’s how you got me to tell you about the broken vase!” Bentley exclaimed accusatorily. Although Bentley hadn’t been the one to break their mother’s newly made, handmade vase - Royce had - he hadn’t been able to keep things under wraps long enough to fix the vase himself. His mom had given him a fresh-from-the-oven cookie, and he found himself spilling the beans without hesitation. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time as he had a tendency to ramble things without thinking, but now that his mother had made it clear that she was the reason, it all made sense.

“That’s right,” Dorothea said with a nod. “We can speak more about it later. For now, who would like to tell me why you feel the need to sneak into the pantry?”

Before giving anyone else a chance to speak, Vivien blurted, “One of our friends from school might be possessed by dark magic, and she’s coming here to get notes from Royce, so we planned on making a salt ring around the house to keep her from coming in.”

With a raised eyebrow, Carrie asked, “I thought you said water was supposed to get rid of the truth potion?”

“It takes a few minutes to work through,” Dorothea explained as she patted Vivien on the shoulder sympathetically.

“Oh, yay,” Vivien sighed sarcastically.

“Anyway,” Dorothea began as she turned toward the rest of her children and their friends, “since what she says is true, we’ll need to work fast. Miles, Carrie, and Mick, you three stay with me. I have some sage and other herbs we can hang by the doorway to ward off dark magic. Royce, Vivien, and Bentley, you three take the salt and follow each other around the house with it. The thicker the salt, the better. Just make sure it isn’t too obvious and keep the line as close to the front door as possible.”

As Vivien followed Bentley and Royce to the pantry to retrieve the salt, Dorothea turned the slow cooker onto low heat and waited for the kids to run outside through the back door before heading into the pantry and sliding open a panel on the back wall. Inside was a rotating, lazy-Susan-style shelving unit filled with bottles that contained either liquids, jars of various ground items, or herbs, and a rack of wrapped herbs dangling from above.

Examining the hidden unit, Miles asked, “When was that built?” 

“Not long after your father left,” Dorothea answered as she began pulling things from the shelves. Holding out a bundle of wrapped sage, she said, “Now, split this evenly between you three and go smudge the doorways and windows while I make up a quick potion to drizzle over the salt circle. By the time the kids are done and the potion is ready, the girl should be on her way over.”

Without any argument, Miles took the sage from his mother and began unwrapping it, heading into the kitchen to grab a lighter from near the stove before handing out sage to Mick and Carrie. Watching her son and his friends move toward the front of the house, Dorothea took in a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone, tapping a few different things before bringing up the group chat she had with Mick’s parents, letting them know their daughter had arrived safely, and they would set aside some food for them. After receiving a message from Mack in return, thanking her for letting them know, Dorothea pocketed her phone once more and silently prayed that she would be able to protect the children in her care as she closed the pantry once more.

Before she could make her way to the living room, though, the door leading to the garage opened, and a faint surge of fiery power coursed through her. Curious, Dorothea turned and watched as a head of shoulder-length blonde hair pulled into a pair of half-up space buns stepped into the house, ditching a messenger backpack on the floor next to the door as it closed. Kona was quick to tug her detachable roller skates from her sneakers and shove them into her backpack as Dorothea smiled at her. Pushing her bangs from her face with a smile, Kona said, “Hey, Mrs Bentley’s Mom.”

“Kona,” Dorothea began, examining the shades of pink and teal that flooded the energy surrounding the girl, “I didn’t know you were coming over. We’re just about to eat; would you care to join us?”

“I can’t, actually,” Kona said with a sigh as she grabbed a cookie from the counter. “Dad’s making a traditional hawaiian dinner for Mom tonight, but I wanted to come over to talk with Ben, Royce, and Vivi.”

“They’re out back at the moment, but they should be in soon,” Dorothea said. “Is it something for school?”

“No, just friendship stuff,” Kona shrugged before taking a bite of her cookie. “Ben and I argued a bit this morning, but I talked it over with Zack and Gus after school and figured we could work things out tonight as a group.”

Nodding in understanding, Dorothea gestured to the dining table and said, “In the meantime, would you like to talk with me about it? I might offer an unbiased opinion.”

“I don’t know if I’m really supposed to say anything,” Kona began as she tugged one of the chairs out from the table, “but I assume that, if what he was saying is real, then you’d know about it too.”

“Most likely,” Dorothea agreed with a hum as she sat in Miles’ usual spot at the table. Sending the girl a comforting smile, she gestured with her hand and said, “The floor is yours.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Kona glanced around for any trace of Bentley before allowing herself to ramble, something she had always found relatively easy in the woman’s presence. She started her retelling of the morning - how her cat had woken her up by smothering her, her younger sister had refused to put clothes on before daycare, and her first attempt at waffles had made a disaster of the kitchen counters - then, she brought the story into the beginning of her school day. Quickly, she got into Bentley’s story and how he had pulled her aside like it was some big secret before telling her about all that had happened on Halloween. 

Nodding along as though she hadn’t already surmised what happened that fateful day, Dorothea listened as Kona told her side of the conversation before asking a single question, “And you don’t believe him?”

Kona heaved a sigh, “It’s not like I don’t want to believe him - I do - it’s just really hard to. He sounded nervous, but that also made it sound like he was lying through his teeth.”

“I understand,” Dorothea nodded. “But, if you were in his shoes and you had to tell him that you possessed magic in some way, wouldn’t you be nervous as well?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Kona breathed. “I just didn’t think about it at the time.”

“Again, that’s understandable,” Dorothea said with a smile as she watched the array of colors around the girl swirl and shift with every thought that ran through her head. “So, what did Zack and August have to offer?”

“They sort of pointed out that Bentley’s a terrible liar and that I should maybe try sitting down and talking with him more to get the whole story,” Kona admitted. With a faintly nervous chuckle, she said, “So, here I am, ready to try a bit harder.”

“And you want Royce and Vivien there to verify everything?” Dorothea surmised. 

Kona nodded, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and like a herd of elephants, Bentley, Royce, and Vivien hurried into the house. As he led the way, Bentley called out, “Mama, we finished the salt circle. What do we do now?” 

Upon finding Kona sitting across from his mother, Bentley’s voice faded into silence. While Bentley scrambled to find something to say and Royce’s eyes widened, Vivien offered a hesitant smile as she said, “Kona, what are you doing here?”

“We need to talk,” the blonde said as she pushed herself out of her seat. “Bentley told me about this whole witch business this morning and I want to have an actual conversation about it.”

“We can’t right now,” Royce stated apologetically as he checked the time on his phone. Serena would be there any minute; they didn’t have time for this!

“Why not?” Kona wondered, crossing her arms over her chest. Nodding toward Mrs Murphy, she said, “She let me talk with her. Why can’t we talk now?”

Before anyone could think of an answer, Carrie’s voice came from the stairs as she, Miles, and Mick came down from the upper floor, “We finished smudging the house.”

“Yeah,” Miles continued as they entered the kitchen. “What do we do now-” As his eyes landed on Kona, he asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Looking for answers,” Kona replied. “What are you guys doing?” 

Faintly feeling the effects of the brownie she had eaten earlier, Vivien replied, “Smudging and making salt circles to protect against dark magic.”

Sensing the growing frustration boiling within Kona’s small frame, Dorothea stood from her spot at the table and placed a placating hand on the girl’s shoulder. “I’ll explain in a moment. For now, you all need to keep an eye out for Serena. Go sit in the living room and do whatever you think is necessary before she gets here. I’ll handle this.”

Despite Royce and Vivien allowing Carrie and Mick to guide them into the living room, Bentley swallowed thickly as Miles tried guiding him away, muttering a soft, “I’m sorry, Kone,” as he turned back toward her for a fleeting moment.

Once Bentley was out of sight, Kona turned to Dorothea and asked, “What’s going on?”

“As I said, I’ll explain everything,” Dorothea said softly, gently guiding Kona back to her seat. “But first, I need you to sit. This will be a lot to take in all at once.”

“What do you mean, you told her?” Miles asked.

“I told her about us,” Bentley explained. “We talked about telling her the other day, so I figures it would be fine.”

“Well, there’s no backing out now,” Carrie claimed from her spot near the picture window. “She knows and, in the long haul, I think it’s for the best.”

Pulling his notebook for geography out of his backpack, Royce said, “I actually agree.”

Slapping a hand to her friend’s forehead, Vivien smirked as she asked, “Are you sick or something? I could’ve sworn I heard you say you agree with Carrie.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Royce deadpanned as he pried Vivien’s hand from his face. “I just think that Kona was bound to know eventually.”

“True,” Mick said from her perch on the coffee table.

Vivien hummed in agreement as she took the notebook from Royce and pulled the thin slab of black onyx from her pocket, tucking it inside the notebook before handing it back to him. Opening the notebook to the hidden crystal, Royce asked, “What’s that for?”

“It’s black onyx,” Vivien explained. “It’s supposed to draw out negative energy. I figured it might help Serena if we give it to her in a way that she won’t notice it.”

Closing the notebook again and feeling just how flat the book still felt, Royce grinned, “Sneaky.”

“Just one of the many reasons you love me,” Vivien claimed proudly. Before allowing him to respond, she said, “I figured it’s flat enough that she won’t realize it’s there, and if she does, you can always claim it’s a pencil or something.”

“Smart,” Mick mused with a smile as she watched over the young pair.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Vivien taunted, shoving the girl’s knee with a smile. “I think those years of spending every afternoon in the shop with you have paid off.”

“I suppose they have,” Mick chuckled.

Moving away from the window, Carrie pointed toward the outside as she exclaimed, “She’s coming up the driveway!”

“Alright,” Miles said, patting Royce on the back as his younger brother stood. Holding the brunet by his shoulders, he asked, “You know what to do?”

With a nod, Royce began counting on his fingers as he listed, “Act normal, talk about the test, offer to let her in, give her the notebook either way, and once she leaves, we decide what to do next.”

“Good,” Miles said, running a hand over Royce’s chocolate curls before pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Royce muttered.

Squeezing his brother’s shoulders, Miles reassured him, “You’ve got this, RJ. Remember, it’s just Serena; she’s your friend.”

“She’s just possessed, that’s all,” Royce huffed as the doorbell rang.

“Be nice,” Miles reminded him, sending a meaningful glance in Mick’s direction despite the girl not being able to hear their hushed conversation. “Your friend is still in there somewhere.”

Nodding more for Miles’ sake than his own, Royce turned toward the door and sucked in a deep breath as he crossed the gap between himself and the heavy, oaken frame. Forcing a small smile onto his face, Royce let out the breath he’d been holding and tugged the door open, allowing the chilled autumn air to brush calmingly across his face as he found Serena leaning against the column at the edge of the porch. “Hey, Serena.”

“Royce,” the redhead greeted in return, a sort of grin tugging at her lips. “Thanks again for letting me borrow your notes.”

“Yeah, of course, anytime,” Royce replied. Stepping to the side and gesturing to the inside of the house, he asked, “Do you want to come in? It’s kind of cold outside.”

Royce took note of how the girl’s hazel eyes flickered to the old, wooden beams that made up the porch, her gaze minutely trailing the thin line of salt trailing into the coarse artificial grass of the doormat. Although Royce knew the moment only lasted a second or so, time felt slower as Serena’s gaze landed back on him. Forcing his smile to remain plastered across his face, Royce watched as she shook her head with a somewhat distant smile and replied, “I would, but I have babysitting duty.”

If there was one thing Royce remembered about Serena, it was her hatred of babysitting. After years of being made to watch the young kids of her church and being forced to sit at the kid’s table every year, the last thing Serena would ever want was to babysit. He could vaguely recall hearing her have a shouting match with her mother in the school parking lot about having to babysit a kid that wasn’t hers - presumably in reference to her younger half-sibling, Sawyer. If Serena was willingly babysitting Sawyer, something had to be up.

“Oh, well, that’s okay,” Royce brushed off despite his mental notes saying otherwise. Instead, he held the notebook out with a smile and replied, “Maybe next time, then.”

“Yeah, sure,” Serena replied with a quick roll of her eyes that Royce supposed he wasn’t meant to see. However, as Serena latched onto the book and brought it close to her chest, he watched as her eyes flickered rapidly, the color in them gradually shifting from hazel to crimson as they moved from one side to the other faster than Royce could register. Then, all at once, it stopped as Serena’s eyes dissolved back to fear-filled hazel. “Royce?” she questioned breathlessly.

“Serena?” Royce asked slowly in return. “What’s going-”

“How did you make it stop?” Serena interrupted, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears of relief. Though Royce had begun to open his mouth in response, Serena quickly shook her head and said, “Actually, nevermind; it’s not important right now.” Reaching out and taking Royce’s arm, she found his eyes and pleaded, “You have to help me. I don’t know what happened, but I’ve been stuck in my own body for weeks now and I can’t get out.”

“What do you remember?” Royce pressed.

“Halloween,” Serena claimed, swiping under her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “You guys came to the church to look for something and I left, but then I came back and you all were gone, so I cleaned the mess you left and then I-” Serena choked on a breath, shaking her head as she breathed, “the next thing I know, it’s like I’m trapped in my head and nobody hears me screaming for help.”

Taking in as much information as he could from the rambling girl, Royce nodded, “I know Vivien talked to you.”

“It wasn’t much, but I tried,” Serena agreed. “I can’t hold her off for long.”

“Her?” 

Serena nodded, releasing Royce’s arm to wipe the streaks of tears from her face as she replied, “The other me. She’s strong and powerful and I know it has something to do with magic.”

“Magic? Like ancient magic?” Royce restated. When Serena shrugged with a hum of confirmation, he asked, “How do we help you out of this?”

“I don’t know,” Serena muttered, her voice shaking with every heave of her shoulders. “You, Vivien, and Bentley were always the ones to know everything about magic, not me. That was never my strong suit. All I know is that she can’t touch salt and-”

As Serena’s words died in her throat, Royce took a step back, watching her eyes begin flickering once more. “And what?” Frustratingly, Serena’s mouth moved despite no sound coming from her lips, and Royce gripped the door frame with wide eyes as her eyes clenched shut, and he heard a dull cracking sound come from the book in her hands. Royce sucked in a breath as he realized the crystal tucked inside the notebook had broken.

Like a rubber band, Serena’s eyes snapped open, and a dark, ruby glare settled within her gaze. Despite both of them knowing she couldn’t do anything to hurt him because of the rings of salt around the house, Royce still felt his fight-or-flight instincts screaming at him to do something to preserve himself, and the people he knew were watching from the window. Serena took a half-step back, the blood-red hue of her eyes diminishing gradually the further she got from the doorway. Tilting her head to the side with an almost demonic smile, Serena let out a dark cackle of laughter before speaking, “Just because you and your little friends defeated me once does not mean I will let it happen again.”

“Says you,” Royce hissed.

“Precisely,” Serena spoke. Stepping down from the porch, Serena’s smile turned eerie as she waved a hand toward the window, sparks of fire flitting from her fingertips. Turning back to Royce, she said, “Watch yourselves, children. Your magic may be cosmic, but mine is ancient. I will take it from you eventually.”

Not wishing to anger the woman further, Royce chose to keep his mouth shut, watching as Serena’s figure turned and stalked off toward the end of the driveway. As she neared the edge, she dug into the notebook, pulled out the broken shards of the onyx slab, and held them up for them to see before holding her fist over the wheeled trash can Bentley hadn’t yet brought back into the garage and crushing the shards in her fist. Dumping the shattered remnants of the crystal into the empty trash can, Serena gave a final, dramatic bow before releasing a cackled laugh, slipping into the driver's seat of her violet-wrapped Audi, and pulling away from the house with a squeal of her tires and a deep growl from the engine.