#this makes it sound like i actually know shit about musicals. that is not true either.

[stellerssong]

HOW am I supposed to fit "doesn't actually like musicals" into the existing Swan lore. It's too early in the morning for this

oh i can answer this! when i say i "don't like musicals" i mean it in the same sense that people who have written hundreds of thousands of words of star wars fanfic say "i hate star wars and i wish it was good" or when people who can pinpoint down to the run, issue, page number, panel, and speech bubble where you should start reading their favorite comic say "one day i'm going to burn down dc headquarters and i'm not joking." hope this helps!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Party Animal

Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.

And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.

Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.

It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...

Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.

He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.

But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.

Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."

"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"

Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.

And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.

"You're just perfect, Stevie."

Oh.

That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"

Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."

Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."

His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.

Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."

As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."

Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."

Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"

His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.

Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.

They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."

There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:

"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."

Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: nightmares, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6!!!!! -part 7

-------------

The next morning when John woke up it was as if his life had changed filters, like if he went from dramatic cool to dramatic warm. There was a small pep in his step as he got out of bed. You were usually always asleep before 9AM so he decided he’d go buy the two of you breakfast from this small cafe you like not too far down the road, he knew when he was younger there was nothing like a good breakfast after a night of drinking.

On the other hand when you woke up you thought you’d dreamt it, the kiss couldn’t have been real. You’d never be that bold. But the nervous jitter in your belly at the thought of leaving your room was telling you all you needed to know. Along with the smile that’s been plastered on your face since the sound of your rattling windows from the heavy breeze woke you up.

Thankfully no hangover so therefore life’s great. You did desperately want to shower though after waking up in the same clothes you went out in. Which also meant it was going to have to be laundry day.

When he got back he picked up on the sound of your shower running and the steam that escaped beneath the door. He set the food in the kitchen unpacking what was his and yours, placing it in your usual seats at the table.

After a long shower filled with music and wasted water you dressed into comfortable home clothes, basically pajamas. Gathering the sheets and blankets from your

bed in a bear hug you begin to make your way to the laundry room, when you get there you drop everything on the floor with a huff.

“Doll?” John says from down the hallway as the sound of his footsteps grow closer

“Hey, goodmorning.” Shit shit shit.

“Morning, I got breakfast if you’re hungry.” He notices the way you slightly stiffen and how you don’t look back to greet him.

“Yeah actually, Thankyou.” Back to your shy nature he presumes, except he’s seemingly stepped out of his. There’s nothing John Price loves more than being on the same page as someone and if he’s assured of anything it is that you feel the same way he does.

“Okay, it’s on the table. I’ll eat when you do.” He says, walking away.

You let out a sigh of relief when he left, smiling to yourself at the girlish feelings so alive in you. When you finally made it to the kitchen you saw his silhouette outside. Even in the harsh weather he stood with a beanie and jacket on, lit cigar between his lips.

You give two knocks on the kitchen window catching his attention. When he notices you he snuffs the cigar into the small ashtray you bought for him and heads inside.

“You’re crazy for standing out there.” You say softly as you notice the effort it takes him to slide the door shut.

“I’ve done crazier.” He remarks.

You sit on the table as he does the same. You get that familiar warm feeling in your cheeks when you realize he got your exact order. Maybe it’s from the million times you’ve phone ordered it, regardless it’s sweet.

“So.” You say trying to see if he’ll be the one to bring it up.

“So?” He says with a smirk taking a sip of his coffee.

“So, I kissed you last night.” You have to talk about it, you could never be the one to just let it be.

“Did you?” He smirks.

“I did, and I want to know if that was okay with you or if I misread the room.” He laughs a little wondering if maybe he’s too subtle.

“No misreading was done love, next time I’d just appreciate a proper one.” The blush on your face gives him even more confidence.

“Well for your information I intended on giving you an actual kiss but my coordination had been slightly off.” You laugh as you say it cause although it’s embarrassing it’s very true.

“Well doll, there’ll be more opportunities I’m sure of it.”

“Oh Okay.” Lord save you.

“Besides your rendezvous, I wanted to know if I could have some pals over tomorrow. We have some work to do and I’m not quite keen on going to base.”

“Of course.”

—————

That night you decide to cook dinner, it’s only fair since he bought breakfast. You both agreed on pasta since you have all the ingredients for it. Although you told John you could cook alone he insisted he’d help as it’s the nice thing to do but truthfully he just wanted to be around you.

“So you grew up not too far from here?” He asks as you dice garlic.

“Yeah about an hour away.” You have your hair pulled back and are constantly moving the stray pieces from your face.

“Do you ever visit home?”

“Hah absolutely not, stay as far away from it as possible.” He doesn’t question it further but doesn’t miss the tone in your voice when you speak of it.

“I hear you talk to your sister a lot, are you close?” He loves hearing you talk, loves getting to know you even more.

“Yeah, she’s my best friend.” You smile, reminding yourself to call her and update her on these past two days.

“What about you, any siblings?” You ask looking over to him seeing that he’s done chopping the tomatoes and now just leans against the counter.

“No, only child.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed. You're very selfless.” It’s nice to hear from you. You’re the only thing he can imagine being selfish about.

“Years of being in the military will do that to you.”

He takes the pasta off the burner and drains it through the strainer. When he puts the empty pot back onto the burner you begin on the sauce.

“Will the same people I met when you first moved in be the ones coming?”

“Yeah.” He says while setting placemats and cutlery on the table.

You’re content in the low hum of radio music that fills in the silence amongst you two. He still stands near you but no words are being said. He watches the way you precisely add different ingredients one by one. When you're done you serve onto the plates for both of you.

“Thank You doll.”

“It was a team effort so thankyou.” You offer him a small smile before you both begin to eat. Conversation flows nicely between bites. He makes you laugh over dumb stories from his time in the military and you tell him embarrassing stories that happened in middle school. He feels normal, like a human when he’s around you. Like his hands are clean of all the violence he’s committed in his life.

When dinner is over you tackle the dishes together, you wash, he dries and puts away till there’s no more.

“Well I’ll see you Tomorrow then.” You say washing your hands and drying them on the kitchen towel.

“Goodnight love.” Before you can get the chance to turn down the hall to your room he’s calling out to you.

“Yeah?” He makes his way towards you and it’s slightly intimidating till he reaches you, positioning a gentle and slightly rough hand on your cheek before placing a long proper kiss to your lips. It’s electric now that you’re fully sober. Warm yet slightly needy. He pulls away and places one more on the corner of your lips like you had his.

“That’s a proper kiss doll.” He jests.

“I can definitely tell the difference.” He laughs a little, swiping a stray hair behind your ear.

“Sleep well.” He adds before heading back down the hall.

—————-

“And we kissed again last night too.” You talk into the phone while kicking your feet under the covers as you still lay in bed awake earlier than usual.

“You didn’t.” She couldn’t be happier for you. You worried her sometimes, she knew you never were outwardly going to look for someone new and since she lived so far away she couldn’t just check up on you when she wanted so she smiles widely as you tell her about your escapades.

“We did, I really like him, you know.” You really really do.

“I’m so happy for you.” She laughs but before you can respond there’s a knock at your door.

“Hold on, come in.” You slightly yell out. John opens the door taking notice of the phone by your ear.

“Sorry doll, I wanted to come tell you that my mates will be here soon, just a heads up.” You smile, giving him a thumbs up with your free hand.

If life loved John as much as he wished he’d be lying next to you by now. Instead he smiles at you with a wink and closes the door.

“That was him, did you hear him?” You laugh.

“If the voice matches the man, my sister you are lucky, not as lucky as him though, don’t forget that.”

You talk for a while longer before letting her get back to her busy life. When you get out of bed you hear deep voices enter your home traveling to where you assume would be John’s office.

You change into a simple outfit, certainly nothing extravagant, but also not pajamas. On your way to the kitchen you turn the heater on so it can warm up before it gets colder outside. You search the fridge wondering what to eat for breakfast and decide on eggs and toast.

—

“Captain, do you have a water bottle I can grab?” Gaz asks, they’re doing a lot of talking and debriefing on their last mission filing the paperwork they’ve all avoided.

“Em yeah in the fridge on the door.” The captain dismisses him trying to type in certain coordinates.

“Grab us one too.” The two other men say as Gaz gets up and leaves. When he makes it to the kitchen he notices you but doesn’t know what to say.

“Hello ma’am.” That’s all he could come up with.

“Jesus good god, hello gaz.” You jump in surprise at the unfamiliar yet not complete stranger.

“Sorry sorry.” You wave him off as he apologizes.

“I think I get startled too easily.” You laugh and he smiles.

“Just came to grab water.” He says motioning forward to your fridge.

“Yeah no problem.”

“You have a stunning kitchen by the way, really like the white cabinets.” He compliments.

“Really, when my ex and I got the house I had the old ones which were a grayish color removed and put these ones in, he hated it.” You laugh at the memory.

“A man with no taste. These are lovely and this lighting, it’s really beautiful.” You thank him again and go into mindless conversation about other remodeling projects you had done, he had questions after everything you said and lost track of time.

—

“Gaz, where were you when the explosion happened?” Price questions and looks up after a minute when there’s no response.

“He hasn’t come back yet, captain.” Soap says with a small grin. “I think he’s chatting it up with the lass out there.”

Their captain gets out of his chair. Silently leaving the room to go see what his sergeant is up to. As he approaches the kitchen he hears you laughing and relaxes his tense features before walking into the kitchen.

“So these used to be granite tiles till I changed them to white ones.” You say pointing at the backsplash above the counter.

“You could be an interior designer.” Gaz remarks and you smile.

“Sergeant, where should you be?” John uses the voice of a captain, one you're not very familiar with.

Both of you turn to look at him and you start to defend him.

“Sorry John, I kept him here, that’s my fault.” You say looking at him apologetically. He wants to tell you to stop making those eyes at him because they make him soft, too soft.

“Sergeant back to work.” He says as gaz bids you a smile and mouths Thank You, he quietly passes John to get back to his office.

“Is that your scary man voice?” You ask him with a small smirk.

“It can be a lot scarier.”

“I like it.” He’s weak for you, physically and emotionally this man craves you in ways that are impossible to comprehend.

“Careful.” Is all he says before walking away. He leans against the wall by his office out of view from anyone quickly adjusting his pants like a boy in puberty before getting back to work.

——

By the time they're done it’s nearly midnight. You're laying on the couch watching a movie when you hear the heavy footsteps of the men reach the kitchen and John’s in particular make their way to you.

“You’re still up?” He asks, looming over the back of the couch.

“Can’t sleep.”

“The winds are heavy and it’s a little late. I was wondering if they could stay the night? They’ll sleep in my room. If not doll please don’t be hesitant to let me know.” He asks quietly.

“Yeah that’s fine, where will you sleep?” You smile softly at him and his tired eyes.

“Out here.” You nod letting him know it’s okay before he leaves for a second to tell them. They all Thank You as you get up to grab extra blankets from your closet.

You bring them to John’s rooms seeing them all figuring out where and how they’re going to sleep. You ask John if you could talk to him real quick in the hallway and he quickly excuses himself.

“John, those men are too grown to sleep on the floor and to share a bed.” You quietly exclaim.

“Doll, I can assure you they’ve slept worse.”

“Men, you don’t see the issue. They’re not at work though this is their time to get good sleep.”

“Well I don’t have much more to offer.”

“One of them can sleep in my room, one on the air mattress and one of them can sleep on your bed.” He looks at you slightly confused.

“Where will you sleep?”

“With whoever sleeps in my bed.” He looks at you like you're crazy and is about to very loudly protest. “I'm kidding, we can share the couch I only need like one cushion to sleep on.” It’s true you sleep like a Rollie Pollie.

“Fine.” He doesn’t object to the idea at all which you're slightly surprised about and walks back into his room to tell them. Gaz is the one that gets sent out to you and you take him to your room.

“Here’s the remote, I’m sorry about all the pillows but the sheets are clean and the bathroom is right across the hall.” You smile at him and he thanks you for saving him from the hardwood floors. You laugh and take your favorite pillow, you say your goodnight and head to the living room.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” John says as you walk to the opposite side of the couch.

“I know.” You say settling into your usual spot. John throws one of the blankets you gave to him for the boys over you. At this point you're so tired you lay on your side letting whatever action movie John put on lull you to sleep.

You wake up suddenly sometime during the night the tv now off making it hard to see. You hear John murmuring things in his sleep getting louder by the second. You sit up tapping his arm to wake him and realize how warm he is. You reach to turn on the lamp beside the couch so you could actually see. Sweat begins to form on his brow line as his hands shake at his sides.

“John.” You whisper quietly, shaking his arm. He doesn’t wake so you do it again a little rougher. Still nothing.

“John.” You said a bit louder, finally waking him. His wide eyes look around as his left hand reaches to grip the hand you had on his arm.

“Doll?” He says squinting his eyes at you while trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah I’m here.” He continues to breathe roughly as you sit there. The way he refuses to meet your eyes makes you want to cry. He looks distressed and worn down.

“Bad dream.” He whispers gruffly.

You don’t need words to comfort him. You slide down the couch to lay opposite of how you had been before and place your head on his chest. He lifts his arm from beneath you and drapes it over your mid back. You listen intently to the rapid beat of his heart waiting for it to slow. After a while it does as his breath evens out. After a bit you drift back into sleep.

----------

thankyou for reading <3

comments and reposts are always appreciated.

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[nqctar]

𖦹 fireworks ; anton lee

pairing. best friend!anton x f!reader. genre. fluff. childhood friends to lovers. inspired by tsitp. synopsis. in the midst of a perfect summer night’s breeze, through flashes of fireworks, your summers spent wishing for anton to give you a sign finally come true. warnings. kissing. physical touch. wc. 1,344 words.

( 🐚 ) ONE SUMMER CAN CHANGE EVERYTHING.

you were in love. you knew it the moment you took glances at anton through your embarassingly large and round eyeglasses. right down to the first brace faced smile the two of you shared, there was always an unspoken mutual pining. though it had been years since that first encounter, seeing him each summer was like the first time over and over again. almost as if anton was a dream you conjured up through fevered nights. he seemed like someone you'd make up in your head to pass time and daydream about.

he was the physical manifestation of all your daydreams. knowing that made your heart ache. every summer you spent with him, digging up seashells along the salty shorelines of cousins beach and pushing each other into the freezing cold water still wasn't enough. you needed more than summers from him. you needed his cello callused hands to run through your hair. you needed to wake up in the morning and see his big brown eyes marveling at you.

you didn't need the summer anymore, if it meant you'd bask for eternity in anton's presence. he was everything to you.

though you wished every lovesick thought you had of him could come true, you found yourself going home at the end of each summer wanting for more. wishing you'd left with a kiss instead of a secret handshake the two of you made up in his treehouse the first summer you met. you deserved more, you thought. with nine years of wishing, something's gotta give.

"i am in control of my destiny," you say through closed eyes while sitting criss-crossed in front of lit french toast scented candles and a mirror. "my fate is up to me." the meditation track booming through your noise cancelling headphones drowned out the sounds of anton's audible confusion.

deep in your own zen and thought, you feel a gentle hand reach out and touch your shoulder. the feeling makes you jump, letting out a yelp louder than you can hear over the music.

"holy shit anton! where did you come from?!" laughter ripples through him, and he clutches his stomach while trying to regain some composure. as always, your heart does backflips upon seeing his beaming smile right in front of you. crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes. he looked so, so pretty. you wanted to lean in and-

not now. maybe not today, even. things were perfect between you two. ruining your friendship with a kiss wasn't a chance you wanted to take. not now, not ever.

brushing your feelings aside, you blow the candle flames out and toss your headphones onto the bed. anton had calmed down already, though giggles still shook his body. you rolled your eyes at him. "it wasn't that funny, shut up." anton wiped a tear from his face, shaking his head. "don't be lame, it was hilarious."

"we're about to light the fireworks, obviously i don't want you to miss it so," he stops to brush a strand of long hair out of your face. an action he'd done many times before. it was almost second nature to him, yet it almost made your knees buckle. "finish your weird demonic chanting and come outside with me."

you grab your hoodie, one that actually belonged to anton during his brief stint on the cousins beach rowing team, he'd given it to you two years ago. it was a size too big for you then, and still too big for you now.

"you actually still use that? stop reminding me of my dark past." anton groans.

again, you roll your eyes. “it's comfortable, deal with it. and what 'dark past?' you were on the team for like two weeks. what's the worst that could've happened?"

anton shivers as the two of you step into the surprisingly chilled july air. "i tipped over in the boat and started screaming. people recorded it. they called me the cousins beach klutz." he cringes at the memory, and in turn you laugh. "okay, maybe that does count as a dark past."

the two of you walk down to your special spot, one you both found accidentally after running along the beach back to anton's summer house thinking you'd miss the fireworks. you remember the flashes of red white and blue that lit up the sky, how your hand brushed up against anton's as you both settled on a huge rock. that was the first time you considered your feelings for anton being more than just a normal crush.

it was also the first time you realized how quickly your feelings for him grew.

the two of you both sit down somewhat comfortably on that same rock, closer together than last year. he sets his the stand of his phone down in front of you both, something he does every year to document your reactions to the fireworks. you never questioned it, though something in the back of your mind gives you hope that he's doing it as an excuse to fill his gallery up with pictures and videos of you.

neither of you talk. there's tension in the air for some reason, and anton can feel it too. he peeks down at your hand, covering it with his own.

"your hands look cold," his voice is quiet. he's coming off shy. something is different.

"i'm just... warming them for you." your heart begins to race faster than it was before. you turn to look at him just as the first fireworks begin to colour the sky.

between the illuminated flashes of colourful lights bursting in the night sky, the earth had a population of two.

just anton, and you.

to your surprise anton was staring right back at you, big brown eyes peering into yours. he brushes a lock of hair away from your face and leans in. "i really want to kiss you." he whispers. the intoxicating scent of his vanilla conditioner calms you. anton is as perfect as he's always been, your very own dream come true.

this moment was the culmination of your winters spent praying to whoever was listening for summer to arrive quicker than last year. every drive back to your house at the end of each summer you held tears back was not in vain. everything you wanted was right in front of you.

"kiss me," you utter. "just kiss me."

with the last few bursts of fireworks blooming in the starry night sky, anton's strawberry chapstick flavoured lips meet yours. he kisses you with the fervor of years spent pining and waiting. his hands run through your hair, your noses bump, he lets a thumb smooth over the side of your face. he's everywhere you want him to be.

his hands drag up and down your sitting frame. the two of you pull away for air, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss.

"we just kissed." anton remarks, somewhat in shock. his hand finds yours again, lacing your fingers together with his.

"i've been waiting so long for you to make a move, y/n." he lets out a nervous laugh. "i was worried you didn't feel the same."

your face reddens. "i didn't want to ruin us. i was scared that i'd do the wrong thing and you'd leave me." you admit. sympathy flashes over anton's face. "god no, i wouldnt—" he picks your hand up and kisses the back of it. "i'm not going anywhere, y/n."

"you're stuck with me forever." he grins.

you place a soft kiss to his lips again, savouring the brief moment.

"i wouldn't have it any other way, anton." he blushes at your response, ears reddening with shyness.

an unspoken 'i love you' lingers in the air, both of you too timid to say it out loud.

maybe next summer, you think.

for now, you curl into his side, choosing to rest your head on his shoulder.

everything in this moment feels perfect.

it's just you and anton existing together. you'd spend the rest of forever this way, if only you could.

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 28: Games

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...

AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse

It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms. 

Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics. 

“People think I’m insane,  because I’m frowning all the time…  I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness,  I must be blind.”

“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy. 

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him. 

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume.   Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song. 

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well. 

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk. 

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh. 

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them. 

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house. 

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around. 

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic. 

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room. 

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach. 

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy. 

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable. 

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly. 

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially. 

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain. 

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face. 

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow. 

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. 

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room. 

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan. 

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years. 

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago. 

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it. 

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it. 

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly. 

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile. 

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves. 

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately. 

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking. 

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance. 

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door. 

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed. 

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans. 

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind. 

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow. 

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes. 

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters. 

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism. 

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder. 

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too. 

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her. 

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you. 

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly. 

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs. 

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll. 

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out. 

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car. 

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. 

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return. 

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word. 

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth. 

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes. 

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk. 

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb. 

It turns out that you ARE that bad. 

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores. 

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. 

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group. 

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game. 

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging. 

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other. 

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak. 

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him. 

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe. 

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. 

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling. 

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game. 

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words. 

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question. 

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on. 

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath. 

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission. 

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga. 

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game. 

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

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[growup-thatbeautiful]

Can I get asking gym crush!Dave Lizewski to spot you and needing his help. I think that could spark a beautiful romance

a:n: yes of course!! if anyone wants more of this idea definitely give me any thoughts. college aged dave :)

It's embarrassing. You don't even know his name, and you've never once talked to him. Sometimes he comes in with his friends- two of them- but you haven't caught any information about him besides his frankly impressive workout routine. And it's not like you see him a lot; he comes here way less than you. Yet somehow he seems to be stronger than most other regulars at the gym.

It’s probably for the best that you don’t see him a lot, though. Because when he is there, you find it hard to focus on anything except for him. Everywhere you look he seems to be there in the corner of your eye or in the glimpse of the mirrored wall.

It's unfair, really. No one should be able to look that good while covered in sweat, his curls sticking up in every direction and matted to the back of his neck. The compression shirt that he's wearing is dark with sweat, but his expression doesn't look fazed at all.

Today, though, you're determined for it to be different. You have a few more reps you want to do at the machine, then your plan is to go to the bar and do squats. Then you have your usual cool-down mile and stretching routine. Distractions don't fit into your schedule, especially because you’re already bone-tired today.

You do the last rep, timing your breath in and out to your movement. There's a pleasant, constant tiredness in your legs that you’ve come to love, and the music blasting in your ears pushes you towards your next exercise.

Luckily, the bar is open and you’re able to start your set right away. Maybe it's because you're still a little bit sore from your last leg day, or maybe you're just not feeling it today, but it feels harder than usual. By the third set, your legs are shaking much more than usual and you’re having trouble getting through the reps.

It’s definitely not your smartest decision ever to keep going, but you really don’t to stop early. Some part of you thinks that you can just push through and make it; the reasonable part of you is saying that you’re going to need someone to spot you.

Looking around, you don’t see anyone you know- no friends or friends of a friend. It’s relatively empty for the time of day, but you need to ask someone to spot you.

And in the opposite corner of the gym, there he is. He’s not doing any reps, and from the way he’s checking his phone you don’t think that he’s in the middle of any.

You try to tell yourself that everyone else is busy and he’s the only option, but you know it’s not true. Even if he was busy, you would wait for him to finish and ask him anyways. There’s no telling when you’re going to have another opportunity like this to talk to him- at least you have an excuse to go up to him.

If your legs weren’t already shaking, they are as you walk over towards him. It’s a sin, for him to look at good as he does without really doing anything at all. Your own music blasting through one of your dangling earbuds isn’t enough to calm your nerves. He’s wearing headphones too, so he can’t hear you coming, and he seems immersed in whatever he’s doing, so you stand there awkwardly while he finishes. When he looks up at you, a smile makes its way across his face, and he holds out his hand for you to shake it, not caring about the obvious sweat.

You tell him your name and shake him hand, your stomach doing flips the whole time.

He, in turn, introduces himself. “I’m Dave. Do you need something?” He says it with a pleasant tone, but he must think that he’s been rude because he backtracks immediately. “Shit, that sounded rude, sorry. I just- people don’t usually come up to me.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him with a laugh. “I actually wanted to ask you if you could spot me. I only have a few sets left.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He looks genuinely excited at your request, and he dutifully follows you to your rack.

You take a deep breath and look at the weights waiting for you. The soreness in your body seems worse now that he’s there standing behind you, his hands clasped behind his back. When you take another breath, it sounds a lot like a sigh. You’re thrilled that he’s willing to help you, but you don’t want him to think you’re weak.

“Hey, you got this,” he says lowly. “I’ve seen you do this a million times before, it’s just another rep, yeah?”

You don’t have the brainpower to think about him saying he’s seen you do this before because all of your thoughts go to his hand on your back, gently urging your forward towards the bar. He doesn’t say anything more, but the message is received.

You step underneath the bar and stand up straight, the bar’s weight settling into your shoulders. You can’t see Dave behind you, but you can feel the heat of his hands underneath your arms as he supports you.

You breathe in. Go down.

Breathe out. Push yourself up.

Do it again. And again 8 more times before stepping forward to rerack the weights.

When you turn around, Dave is looking up at the ceiling, his hands straight down at his sides. You fix your hair and pause your music before taking a sip of water.

“Dave?” you ask. “You can look at me, you know.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I was checking you out,” he explains while he brings his eyes to yours. “M’not gonna be that guy.”

“I appreciate it,” you respond, your heart warming at the sentiment. “Really, I do. But I wouldn’t mind you looking.” It’s not exactly the most subtle hint you’ve ever given a guy, but something tells you that subtle isn’t the right approach with Dave.

“What?” He really looks clueless as to what you’re talking about, his head tilted to the side. Your brain helpfully supplies you with “puppy dog.”

Too subtle, then. “Do you want to get coffee after this?” You’re positive that your smile is uncertain and crooked.

“Me?” he asks.

“Yes, you,” you laugh. “Look, I know you don’t know me, but I’d like to get to know you.”

“I’d like that, too.” The grin on his face is wide and full, bringing light and laugh lines to his eyes. You haven’t seen this smile from him yet, which is probably a good thing because it has a dangerous effect on you. “You have another set left,” he informs you. “So why don’t we finish that up and go get coffee after?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you agree, stepping back underneath the bar, a renewed vigor in your legs. That vigor, of course, goes away when you actually start the last set.

You do the first five without an issue, but you start struggling more with the sixth. By the eighth rep, you’re face is twisted with effort and you can barely get back up.

Dave doesn’t say anything, but you know he’s there. And his presence is fully reassured to you when he mutters close to your ear, “Come on, just a few more. I’m right here.”

He has to help you with the last rep, his arms supporting you underneath your armpits as he takes some of the weight off and helps you get back the the rack. It forces him much closer to you than before, and you can feel his heart racing against your back. You know yours is beating just as fast.

“Thank you,” you tell him, a little bit out of breath still. “You’re a live-saver.”

A funny look comes across his face at that, but it clears away in a blink. “Anytime.”

“How about that coffee?” you ask, grabbing your keys and water before shooting a quick text to your friends so they know where you’re going. Then, holding out your hand, you say, “It’s the least I can do.”

He takes your hand in between his own, leading you towards his own pile of things. “I know a good place around here.”

“Lead the way,” you tell him.

Maybe asking for his help wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[whowantslovergirl]

hey! can i req a spencer reid dating someone that’s like ,,, taylor swift level of famous? and like maybe the team teases him whenever a romantic song that’s clearly ab him plays?

An: YESYESYES ima use Taylor swift songs and I don’t really listen to her so bare with me guys 😍 all for you my lover 🤍 and please bare with me I’m going to write the teams dynamic as best as possible and I took notes on how to write Spencer the way matthew gray gubler is my husband he just doesn’t know it yet 💋

Style

Dr.Spencer Reid x famous af! reader ( reader is female with she/her pronouns)

warnings: some cursing, fluff af, and i think that’s it hope you enjoy my lovers 💖 criminal minds masterlist

Summary: The team finding out about Spencer’s kinda famous girlfriend

posted: April 6,2023

When Spencer woke up this morning he knew that he was going to have a great day. The team had no cases. He talked to you last night to compliment your new song. And he found out that you’re coming over later tonight.

The day couldn’t be better.

Until he actually went to work.

_____

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes

And I got that red lip classic thing that you like

And when we go crashing down, we come back every time

‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

He heard your song blasting through the BAU. He saw Penelope singing and dancing.

He never been more confused in his life.

“Hey pretty boy!” Derek yelled since he can’t hear himself think.

“Hey Morgan! What’s going on?!”

“Garcia and her fascination with Y/N L/N!” The music paused.

“I just want it to be known that Y/N L/N has blessed your ears with her angelic voice this morning.” She saw Spencer. “Hey Reid!”

“Hey Garcia.” She continued playing the song.

“What’s going on? It’s way to early for this.” Emily said walking in with her coffee.

“Babygirl’s favorite singer released her new single.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Oh! Replay it! I want to hear it!” And she did what she was told.

_____

Long story short everyone heard and loved his girlfriend’s new song.

“Hey guys, is it just me or the lyrics sound like Spencer?” JJ said out of nowhere.

Everyone looked at him and agreed.

“Yeah I can see that.”

“You make a good point JJ.”

“It does make sense.” Derek said while inspecting him.

“What! No it doesn’t!”

It does.

“Oh come on Spencer! You got that long hair slicked back white t shirt. That is so you!”

“Just because I have long hair does not mean she is talking about me Penelope.”

‘Besides half of the song isn’t even true.’ He mumbled hoping they didn’t hear them.

But they did.

“What did you just say pretty boy.”

“Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

Penelope gasped. “You never curse unless your hiding something or you’re frustrated! And I’m pretty sure you are not frustrated right now Spencer.”

He didn’t know what to say.

“How would you know half the song isn’t true? You don’t even listen to modern music.” Emily said with a questioning tone.

“Unless you know the song is about you!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Come on! I would not be able to get with Y/N L/N! We are in different calibers. I am a profiler and she is a pop-star with a huge- no, massive fan base. It just would never work.” Everyone looked at him surprised.

“Are you dating Y/N L/N?” Hotch walked in.

“No!”

“You ramble when you’re nervous a lot.” Emily said.

“And he’s getting sweaty.” Derek said with a questioning tone as well.

“Guys I am not dating N/N!”

Shit.

Penelope gasped once again. “You said her nickname!”

He once again was speechless.

He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

You were going to be so mad at him.

_____

“That’s hilarious!” You said laughing over the phone.

“What! No it’s not N/N.” You rolled your eyes. “So how did your team of profilers find out?”

He told her everything. And she laughed even more.

“Y/N stop laughing!” He said while his face was heating up.

_____

It was the next day and Spencer found out that you can’t come until next week. So of course his mood is a little down.

_____

“Why the long face pretty boy.” Derek continues. “Your N/N isn’t coming?” Spencer rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t know because I’m not dating her.”

“Keep telling yourself that Spence.” JJ said and Emily laughed.

“Eek! Y/N is coming out with a new album!” Penelope exclaimed while walking in. “My whole life is complete. I have no more reason of living after such extraordinary news.” Everyone just laughed at her.

“ We should go out together. I need to express my gratitude for this album.”

Everyone just agreed, even Spencer.

_____

He really missed you but at least he has his friends.

He wasn’t ready for tomorrow.

_____

Everyone came in work at the same time and saw someone at Spencer’s desk.

“Who is that?” Penelope asked.

The person in the chair turned around and Spencer’s face lit up.

“Hey guys.” You say waving not noticing Spencer yet.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! That’s Y/N L/N! She’s here!” Penelope said hitting Morgan excitedly.

“Oh my god it is.” He said surprised.

“Have you guys seen Spencer?”

“Y/N” Spencer said surprised as well.

“Spencer!” You said running up to him and jumping into his arms.

The whole team just looked at you guys with shock in their faces.

You guys are totally oblivious at the looks that are being given.

“I thought you weren’t coming until next week.”

“It was obviously a surprise Spence now shut up and kiss me baby!” You say smiling.

You press his lips onto his and he melts in the kiss. Your hands went up to his hair and his hands rest on your hips. Hotch cleared his throat. You two broke apart.

You turn around and apologized and you saw Penelope shaking with excitement.

“You must be Penelope. I have some gifts for you.” You walked over to Spencer’s desk. “This is my new album on a disk and it even has some songs that didn’t make the cut.” You say winking. She was just staring in awe.

“And it’s also signed. I also have backstage passes to a tour that hasn’t been announced yet.” She squealed and you just laughed.

She looked at your boyfriend. “I’m never letting her go.”

Everyone laughed.

Spencer is not living this one down.

An: AHHHHH I just want to apologize for not giving exactly want the request said this just took a mind of its own fr but I hoped you enjoyed until I post again my lovers 🤍

[medusapelagia]

13 Missing moments

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt:"Please, stay?" ) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: found footage ) @aug-kissed (prompt: Gentle peck) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: established Steve/Eddie, implied reference to cancer, sick character, mention of vomit, open ending Words: 1141

Eddie knocks on the door softly, not wanting to wake Steve if he’s finally asleep. It was a hard night for both of them. Steve woke up at three am, struggling to breathe and he was determined not to call the ambulance, so the only thing Eddie could do was hold him tight to his chest, brushing away the hair from Steve’s sweaty forehead, promising he would feel better soon and hoping it wasn’t a lie. And when, almost ten agonizing minutes later, Steve’s breath finally slowed down, Eddie took a big breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding.

“Come in. I’m awake.” Steve replies in a graveled voice.

“Did you throw up?” Eddie asks, worriedly, smelling the acrid scent in the air.

“Sorry. I opened the window.”

“Hey, I don't care, I’m just worried about you. You sure you don’t want me to call the doctor?”

“It’s the new meds. We knew it could happen, right?”

Right, they knew Steve’s new meds had some collateral effects but not that Steve was going to experience every single one of them.

“Maybe we should tell Owens you’re feeling like shit.”

“And change meds again? I’m halfway through. Just give my body a few more days to get used to the new meds and I’ll be ok.”

Steve’s thick mane is now as thin as a baby's hair. Stupid meds that are making him feel worse.

“I guess you don’t want to eat, right?”

Steve shakes his head quietly, patting the other side of the bed, “Please, stay?”

Luckily today is Sunday. The girls are at Aunt Robin’s home and he doesn’t have to leave for work, so he moves as slowly as he can not to jostle Steve too much and lies next to him.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Eddie asks, even if he knows by now that getting a true answer from Steve is almost impossible.

“I’m better. Thanks.”

Eddie gives him a gentle peck on the forehead, frowning when he finds it too warm but he says nothing. He knows that Steve’s immune system is way too weak right now and he really hopes that the little fever is his body trying to fight the sickness.

“Do you want me to read something for you?”

“Don’t think I could follow if you read for me.”

“You don’t have to. I know you find my voice really soothing.”

“I love your voice. I’m your biggest fan, did you forget?” 

Eddie chuckles, remembering that both Robin and Steve got to the first official Corroded Coffin’s concert with twin homemade t-shirts with that sentence.

“Yes, you are. Maybe you prefer some music?”

“Yeah. Can you fetch me the first tape you made for me?”

“When we started dating? But it’s almost thirty years ago! I have no idea where it is!”

“Maybe the attic?”

Eddie stares quietly at Steve, “Are you trying to find me something to do to keep me occupied?”

Steve shrugs, “Maybe? I’m going to fall asleep soon and I know you won’t dare to move if you’re in the bed with me and I don’t want you to spend all the Sunday morning lying in bed with me.”

“That sounds like a perfect way to spend the Sunday morning, actually.” Eddie replies, kissing Steve’s cheek, “But I’ll let you rest. I’ll be back with that tape. I swear it on my honor.” he promises.

“I know you will. You’re my champion, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I am, my king.” Eddie kisses Steve’s hand before leaving the bedroom, then he moves toward the end of the corridor and pulls down the ladder to the attic.

The attic is dirty and dusty, they haven’t been here in ages. Everywhere there are cardboard boxes with Steve’s neat handwriting. 

Melissa and Elisa’s toys.

Eddie’s show costumes.

Hawkins.

And a little one: VHS.

Eddie opens the VHS box, wondering if inside there are the Disney movies the girls were obsessed with when they were kids: Cinderella, Pocahontas, and The Little Mermaid.

But under the Disney VHS, there are some older recording tapes that Eddie doesn’t remember. He lifts the box and takes it down in his studio, where he still has an old television with a VHS player that he really hopes is still working.

The first VHS is just a mix of blurred images of Robin, while Steve’s voice, out of the screen, asks, “Do you think this thing is recording?”

“The light is red so I think so.”

“You sure? I can’t fuck up! Eddie will be mad if I did.”

“You won’t, dingus, come on, let me see what we recorded.”

“How?”

“Oh my god! Steve! Turn off the camera and let’s see what is recorded.” Robin says, stepping closer while the camera is pointed to the red moquette.

“Dingus! You’re still recording! If Eddie doesn’t have a feet fetish I don’t think he’ll appreciate footage of your feet and the ground. Turn the camera off!”

“I did!”

“You did not! You have to push here-”

The images stop abruptly leaving space for a series of grays and whites.

Eddie smiles, years have passed but Steve’s relationship with technology is still very complicated. He accidentally sent a lovely meme to the family’s group chat instead of sending it to Eddie, causing a series of fake gagging from the girls and a lot of mockery for a couple of months.

After the interruption the video starts again, this time the camera must have been positioned somewhere to film Steve and Robin. Their heads are abruptly cut out from the shot but they are both wearing the ‘Corroded Coffin Biggest Fan’ t-shirt and they are talking about how excited they are for the first official Corroded Coffin’s concert.

Another interruption and then a very clumsy and shaky shot of Eddie, playing The boy with the nailed bat in his heart begins. 

Eddie can barely hear his own voice over Gareth’s drum. The acustic in that forum was horrible, but it was their first officially paid gig.

He can’t hear himself sing, but he can hear Steve’s voice singing as loud as he can. He’s definitely out of tune, but Eddie smiles fondly at the footage. He sounds so happy.

Eddie grabs the VHS cardboard boxes that he found, and he discovers a treasure of memories he forgot. Silly little moments that got lost in all the time they spent together. Robin’s graduation. Dustin’s wedding. Their first family holiday with the twins and many other little precious memories. But Steve is not on the tapes. Not even one. He’s always the voice behind the camera, asking to look at him, or describing what’s going on.

When the last tape ends Eddie’s eyes are full of tears, and he promises himself that he’ll make sure not to miss any moment lived with Steve. 

[duckchu]

Duckyyyy, I seriously need a change from the KDA!reader stuff going around, could I mayhaps beg of you for anything romantic with whatever heartsteel boy you feel like writing for with a Pentakill reader?

(I seriously recommend listening to Pentakill if you like old metal, I can also help give a brief description of Pentakill if you need it)

-🎃

While Pentakill is (musically) my least favourite band from lol, I'm a Sona main and a Mordekaiser simp, I know them by heart, 🎃 (this sounds way more threating than it was meant to lmao) (and I do not know them by heart, I just love Sona and Mordekaiser and would very much enjoy being stuffing to a sandwich if they're the bread if you know what I mean

And you know what? I'm feeling like writing them all so enjoy my lovely pumpkin

Also sorry for kinda insterting Battle Academia Yone in there but I couldn't stop myself

Enjoy 🖤

(mmm wife gif)

Kayn

You're a hottie AND you're in THE Pentakill? He was instantly hooked on you when you two met

Though you weren't as keen on him, thinking of him as just another fanboy

After some time of him bugging you and trying to impress you as much as he can, you warmed up to him

Eventually landing yourself into a relationship with him

Everyone in both bands thought you two were just a short phase

But then the public learned about you

And my god, was it a storm

Especially since everyone suspected you were dating someone...more like you

But you two are still going strong

He loves your style, especially if your outfits include some chains (he's a kinky man what can I say)

Though he also enjoys your style outside of the stage, no matter how much it differs from your metal queen image

Honestly he just loves when you look happy

Probably wrote a few songs about you, which he will never show you, since he thinks you're too cool for love songs

Aphelios

Honestly? Wasn't interested at the beginning

You're from Pentakill? Ok, don't care

Honestly you were the one who fell first

He had no idea, untill he noticied you telling Sona you thought he was cute using sing language

After that he started noticing you in his surroundings more often

Especially if you wore tight clothes

I mean he's not a pervert, but you look really good

Finally Alune made him realise he's in love

Oh shit he is

So after some time to gather courage he goes in an confesses

Thought it wouldn't be a problem to do it in front of Kayle, since why would she know sing language

SHE'S IN THE BAND WITH SONA TOO FUCK

He may be stupid but you still love him

But rumours spread fast

So next day the press was on the asses of both of you

Honestly doesn't care. He loves you and that's what matters

Though the rest of Heartsteel might care

Oh well

Yone

You two met before Pentakill was even a thing

So he isn't intimated by you being in the band

He's actually very happy for you

Though he does miss the days when you two were just teenagers and could hang out more frequently

Especially since now you usually were with the band or touring

I mean he was happy with you

But he might not have gotten past his little high school crush on you

Ah, the old days, when he thought dying his hair pink would impress you

Now he knew he just had to tell you that he liked you in that special way

You two might have lost some time, but now you have plenty of it to make up for it~

Ezreal

Him? With you? Nooo, this had to be joke

A joke so good Karthus spilled his morning coffe out laughing

Oh wait, you actually were? Oh shit

No one ever thought the intimidating metal diva would be with someone like him

Everyone was sure he would be dating another popstar to break up after a week

But it's been half a year since the news broke out and you two are still going strong

He loves seeing you on stage

You're so...

He secretly wants you to step on him and call you mommy

But he can hold back

For now

Sett

Holy shit

The hottie from Pentakill

And him

It's like a dream come true

Although he is worried what his mom will think

She doesn't care

As long as you treat him well, she will welcome you with open arms

Sett loves how ferocious you are

He finds it so hot how intimidating you look on stage

Especially since you have such an effect, even against Mordekaiser and Yorick, who look...well scary

K'Sante

Won't tell you that, but you inspired him so much

He just loves when you mix up your stage style and home style

Like wearing just a normal blouse with that gorset belt? You look great!

He of course loves you for so much more

For example how you always take care of him

Turning into a big softie whenever he needs your help

Or the way your eyes light up when you see in the crowd at a concert

Though the music is not his taste, he will do anything for his partner

He won't admit it, but in the depths of his files there's a whole set of outfits he designed for Pentakill, inspired by you of course

[sophswritingthings]

You are evil, sososososo evil because now Mizu calling reader princess is stuck in MY head too! 😭😭Also I didn’t know about that ab hydrangeas and I think their symbolism is quite fitting for that Drabble!!!

So what if mizu and noblewoman!reader were playing a game of Go (the board game we saw seki and akemi play), with lots of smart quips and teasing (SUCH AS MIZU CALLING READER PRINCESS AAAAAA) on each end. But little does reader know, she’s actually abysmal at playing and Mizu has been purposefully keeping the game going for as long as possible by losing pieces

But then reader teases mizu/says something that genuinely distracts her and because mizu was making sure they were on par with eachother, the reader actually wins the game because of how distracted mizu got imagining what reader just said

But because mizu is defensive as hell she quickly snaps out of it and says how she intended to keep the game going because of how reader is so bad, and if reader really wanted to beat Mizu, maybe mizu could “tutor” her in private 👀

pairing: mizu x fem!noblewoman!reader

warning(s): light swearing, god the flirting is palpable and they are idiots

a/n: EVIL????? LMAO. as a writer it is my job to get you invested so you leave more work for me to do!! I do what must be done!!

summary: playing a game of go with mizu, the tension is palpable. the samurai keeps strong, but it’s quick before you break her.

word count: 425 words / 2,257 characters 

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

“mizu,” you began, moving your white piece to the spot before it. “I am starting to wonder if you actually know how to play.”

you arch an eyebrow at her.

“of course I know how to play,” she hisses, moving her piece to a spot she probably shouldn’t have.

mizu did know how to play. In fact, she wasn’t half bad at it, either it.

she was truly trying to keep the game going for as long as she could.

“I used to play with my sword-father.” she kept her gaze focused on the board, trying to know where you (and she) should place your pieces.

“ah, I see,” you nod your head. “so he taught you, then?”

“yes he did,” mizu murmured.

“well—“ you chuckled, placing your piece directly atop of hers, circling it. “he wasn’t a very good player.”

she scoffed, “I will have you know, princess, he was a fine player.”

“just not good enough,” you giggle as you slid her white piece of the board.

she took in a sharp inhale, moving to also capture one of your pieces.

despite all of your teasing and confidence, she knew you were actually shit at the game.

she’d seen you play with a friend of yours, before. a few times, actually.

never had you won one game.

“hmm, maybe I’m a bit too distracting for your own good, mizu?” you smirked at her, giggling as you saw her face light up.

mizu was stunned, by your words. she didn’t know what to make of them, she truly didn’t.

“ha!” your yelp snapped her out of her thoughts, “I win!”

her eyes widened, big as the sun, staring down at the board.

you were right. you had won.

her eyes narrowed, directing her gaze back up at you.

“bullshit—I was trying to keep the game going so we could talk.” she grumbled.

“hm, yes? Is that true?” you laughed, “are you sure about that?”

“yes, princess, I’ve seen you play before.” she chuckled herself, “I know you can’t play for shit.”

“hm,” you crossed your arms across your chest, that smirk plastered on your face never dipping, “why don’t you teach me, then.”

the proposition sounded.. interesting, to say the least.

sure, she’d taught you things before—a bit with her sword, how to shoot a bow and arrow.

but getting to spend long periods of one-on-one time with you?

that sounded like music to her ears.

“alright,” she conceded. “I’ll tutor you.”

you nod, gathering your feet and bowing to her.

“tomorrow. same time.”

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

[avilthings]

Vigilante Shit

Plot: What happens when a pent up Husk sees you doing the Vigilante Shit by Taylor Swift chair dance?

Pairing: Husk x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: NSFW🔞(more so at the end but very suggestive throughout), praise kink, and swearing

Length: 4.2k

Shout out: @irkimatsu who helped me through this fic! An amazing writer and worth checking out!

Edited by: @irkimatsu who took the time to go over and edit my work, thank you so much! Full editing credit to them!

Links: This is the choreography dance, and then Taylor’s performance.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMM6c8JCj/

•

•

•

It’s been a long day of Charlie trying to bring you more out of your shell. You're quiet, always have been. Charlie, on the other hand, is very outgoing and bubbly. She wants to get to know you and understand you better, but you aren’t one to open up….

You’re a sinner demon, and back when you were alive, you struggled with anxiety and the fear of judgment from others… you still do. It's why you stay quiet and reserved. Although many people know you to be quiet and reserved behind doors and by yourself, there are lots of things you enjoy, singing along to a catchy song, dancing like nobody is watching (because trust me, you make sure they aren’t) and just being you… actually you.

Although you are rather guarded, there are people who you let your guard down for, one being Husk. Husk was also quieter and kept to himself, mostly, which you enjoyed. He never made you feel like you had to open up, instead making opening up feel like a choice. That if you decided to, he’d listen… maybe that’s what made it easier for you. If he didn’t care whether or not you’d open up, he probably wouldn’t judge you if you did. That was your thought process, anyway.

Because of this, you started sitting at his bar more often. At first, it was just silence between you two, like you were both trying to read each other without saying a word.

The more you came, though, the more you started greeting him with a simple “hello, Husk”, which led to “I’ve got the usual for ya” from him. The more you came by, the more you two would talk, even if it was just “how was your day?” followed by “shit…” You knew when not to pry and Husk deeply appreciated that. After a couple of months, you guys had become friends, sharing stories or just enjoying comfortable silence.

~~

“You’re telling me that music can be made just electronically,” Husk said, rather offended by the thought.

“It can be, sometimes. It’s good, but depends on what you’re into. Music has changed a lot from the time you lived.”

Husk scoffs at that. “Ya, sounds like it’s gone to shit.”

“Hey! There’s still good music from my time. In fact, Angel has been playing that one artist a lot, Taylor Swift. She’s from my time.”

“If it ain’t jazz, it ain’t good,” Husk says before turning around to clean more glasses.

“Well, that just ain’t true, Whiskers,” Angel says as he walks over with a vinyl.

Husk glares, annoyed by the name, but he doesn’t have the energy to deal with him right now, so he doesn’t say anything.

“Whatcha got, Angel?” you ask, curious about the vinyl in his hand. 

“It’s Taylor Swift's latest album, Midnights”. 

“Ooooh, it finally came out on viny?!” you say excitedly, which surprises Husk. He hasn’t seen you show this much excitement over something before. 

“Yep, and I know Husky here has a record player at the bar,” Angel says, smirking at Husk.

“You ain’t playing that shit at my bar,” Husk says gruffly, clearly annoyed from Angel's nicknames. It was already later in the evening, and Husk did not have the patience to deal with this right now.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Angel puts the vinyl on the record player, and the lobby is filled with music and Angel’s singing. “It’s me hi, I’m the problem, it’s me,” Angel sings.

“Got that right,” Husk mumbles, annoyed, as you giggle at them.

“YOU THREE! ITS FUCKING MIDNIGHT!” Vaggie yells angrily looking as if you three just woke her up. “You better not wake Charlie up. Turn that shit down and go to bed!” Vaggie says before storming back to bed.

You and Angel head up to bed while Husk stays at the bar, saying he has a few more things to finish before he’ll head to bed. Although Husk doesn’t mind silence, he leaves the record playing quietly. The next couple of songs are slow songs, which doesn’t help as Husk is already tired. He ends up falling asleep pretty quickly on a stool in the corner of the bar.

‘Crap, I forget to get water,’ you think to yourself before heading back down to the bar to grab a cup of water. As you get closer to the bar you can’t see Husk; you assume he already went to bed, though you hear the record still playing. It’s playing Vigilante Shit now, one of your favourites. You knew the dance by heart. Looking around, you see Charlie had brought down chairs for the bonding activity tomorrow. With the chairs right there and the music playing, you just can’t help yourself. ‘No one’s here… it’ll be fine,’ you convince yourself. ‘Just the chorus.’

~~

You stand behind the chair, in the middle of the lobby a good distance from the bar. As the music plays, you take a deep breath and let yourself just enjoy the music, flowing with it. You start to do the dance leaning forward seductively before standing again. You lift the chair before placing it back down with a thump, matching it to the beat of the music.

You must not have realized how loud the chair bang was as it caused Husk to jolt awake. He’s now alert as he sits up more, peering over the bar counter slightly, looking for where the bang came from. That’s when he sees you. Leg up on the chair as you roll your body before straddling the chair backwards slowly lowering yourself onto it.

Husk’s eyes widen, taken aback by the sight. You?! The quietest one here, the most reserved and guarded, doing a chair dance?! Remaining in the chair, not wanting to startle you, Husk stays quiet and watches. ‘Shit…you have a nice ass,’ Husk thought as he started growing hard. His tail starts to swish from anticipation.

You sway your body on the chair, side to side, front to back, before pushing your ass out as you stand while gripping the back of the chair. That did him in, he now noticed how hard he was. ‘What?! Why, why now?’ Husk thought to himself.

Husk had been around the longest out of everyone in the hotel. He had lived the longest life while alive, seen it all, growing up in Vegas and later traveling the world. He’d seen strip shows from all over the world and in hell, watched porn, but none of it excited him anymore. When you’ve seen it all, it starts to get old, becomes the same old shit. So why was he getting hard now? He hadn’t been turned on by this shit in years, so why you? His tail flicked in annoyance at this.

-Smash-

“Shit!” Husk swore, startled and irritated.

You quickly jumped off the chair turning bright red. “Husk…?”

Husk’s tail had knocked into a cheap bottle of booze when it started flicking, and the bottle was now shattered into a million tiny shards on the ground behind the bar. Husk knew you’d freak out if you knew he was watching you dance, so he lied.

“Sorry,” Husk says, standing, but making sure to stay behind the bar due to his… situation. “Something fell and woke me up. Hope I didn’t startle you as well.” Husk lies. “Did you need something?”

You sigh a breath of relief as you walk over to the bar. “I forgot to grab a glass of water before heading to bed… looks like you forgot to even head to bed,” you say, getting closer to the bar. 

“Wait there, don’t come back here. There's glass and booze all over the floor,” Husk grumbles. Obviously, he tells you to wait there so as to not get hurt, definitely not so that you don't see the obvious bulge in his pants.

“You seem tired, if we clean up together it’ll go faster and–”

“No,” he cuts you off coldly. “Here,” he brings you a glass of water. “It’s late and Charlie has plans in the morning, so get some sleep. I’m sure Niffty will clean this in the morning. She likes broken glass.”

You nod before taking the glass of water. You head to the stairs before saying a quiet “Night, Husk”. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod back, staying behind the bar until he knows you're upstairs. With that, he heads to bed hoping to take care of his… problem.

~~

That night, Husk can’t help it as his dreams are filled with the memory of you dancing. How he wished he was in that chair as you slowly straddled his lap, lowering yourself down onto his already hard cock. How he wished his hands would grip your hips as you throw your head back, pushing out your chest. How your hands would grip his shoulders as you stood back up, pushing your ass out while you lean in to kiss his lips. How he’d love to take you right then and there, whether you’re in his lap or bent down gripping the chair. Him sliding–

“Fuck!” Husk's eyes snap open as he pants. “Shit…” Husk swore, knowing exactly why he woke up panting. He looked down to see his cock straining against his boxers, which now had a wet spot. ‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. What, am I 16 again?’ Husk thought, seriously annoyed by this.

After Husk took care of things and showered (with cold water), he headed down back to the bar as usual. Husk noticed the glass and spilled booze had at least been cleaned. He also noticed you with Charlie and the rest of the gang, working on the team bonding. Of course, you just had to be sitting on that damn chair for the exercise. Husk couldn’t concentrate now, remembering the dream he had. “Shit, shit, shit…” Husk was getting hard again, and it drove him crazy.

~~

Over the next couple of days, anytime Husk saw you, he would get hard. No matter how many times he got off to the memory of that dance, he still got hard whenever seeing you, and it was driving him nuts. Despite trying to take care of his problems himself, it just led to him being more and more pent up.

“Is Husk okay?” you whispered to Angel. “He’s been in a terrible mood these past few days.”

“Don’t worry about it, Sugar, he just has his bow tie in a twist. Maybe you should go over and help untwist it,” Angel says playfully before walking off.

You think to yourself, trying to figure out what would cause him to be so agitated, before a smashing sound plays in your mind. ‘That’s right… Husk broke a bottle of booze. That must be why he’s so irritated,’ you think to yourself.

With a plan in mind, you head out gathering what you need before confronting Husk.

It was later that evening as you walked up to the bar with a bag in your hand. “Hey,” you say gently, not wanting to irritate Husk more. He just looks up at you as you sit at the bar, and he grunts acknowledging your presence. “Listen… I just wanted to say I’m sorry if it was me who startled you that night. I know it caused a bottle of whiskey to get broken, so here.” You take a small bottle of whiskey out of the bag and place it on the bar counter. “I’m sorry if that’s what’s been irritating you, I hope this makes up for it.”

Husk just blinks, surprised by your kind actions as he looks at the bottle of whiskey. “You didn’t have to, it wasn’t your fault,” Husk says. “Listen, that’s not why I’ve been so moody.”

“Oh?” you say looking confused, wanting to encourage him to continue speaking.

Husk sighs before deciding to just give in and tell you about what really happened that night. Maybe if he gets it off his chest he’ll stop getting hard every time he sees you. That was his thought process at least.

“That night you came down to get water… I saw you dancing.”

Your cheeks burn bright red, mortified from the thought of him seeing you dance erotically. “I-I…” you stutter, trying to say something.

“It’s okay,” Husk says in a more comforting way. “Just hear me out.”

You nod.

“That night that I saw you dance… I did indeed fall asleep behind the bar. It was when the chair banged that I woke up and saw you dancing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, watching the way your body moved perfectly with the song.” Husk sighed, looking around the bar to make sure it was empty. “Listen, I’m just gonna tell it as it is.” 

You nod, face turning red from his words.

“When you were dancing… I got hard, and my tail started flicking which is what knocked the bottle. It’s been a long time since I’ve been aroused like that, and that night my dreams got out of hand. I couldn’t help picturing what it would be like if you did that dance for me. And it wasn’t just in that dream that I couldn’t help picturing it… it was anytime I saw you or let my mind wander. Every time, I’d get hard over that thought, and it drove me crazy. No matter how many times I took care of it on my own I still couldn’t get that thought out of my head. I guess I got pretty irritated from all that which is why I’ve been in a bad mood. Sorry ‘bout that. Maybe now that I’ve gotten it off my chest I’ll finally be able to move on from that thought.”

After hearing Husk’s confession, you just sat there for a moment, processing things. It was an awkward silence before you finally spoke up.

“Husk… would you like me to help?”

“What.” Husk blinked, confused by what you meant. There’s no way you could mean what he thought you meant, right?

What Husk didn’t know is that you’d always found him very attractive, especially after getting to know him more. You came to his bar pretty regularly and had opened up to him. He made you feel safe for some reason. It’s no surprise that you ended up developing some feelings along the way. Knowing Husk, though, the last thing you’d want to do is admit to having feelings.

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” you say quietly.

“I need to hear it from you,” Husk says bluntly.

“Husk, your dream was about me doing that dance for you, yes? I’ll do that for you. It would help to finally calm that thought, right?”

“Are you sure that’s what you want, though? I don’t want you doing this because you take pity on me.” Husk’s ears fold back against his head, irritated at the thought. As you notice this you lift your hand up before resting it on his cheek. His ears perk back up from the sudden touch as he stares at you.

“I want this too,” you whisper.

With that, Husk places his hand over top of yours that rests on his cheek. He moves your hand closer to his mouth and kisses it while maintaining eye contact.

“Let’s take this to my bedroom, then. I want you all to myself,” Husk says seductively as he holds your hand, guiding you to his room.

~~

Husk’s room is what you’d expect from a typical older man. It was surprisingly neat and clean.

“Wait a minute, is that the Midnight vinyl over on your record player? Angel thought he lost it.” You giggle a bit before teasing him. “Guess not all music from my generation is bad, huh?” you say playfully as Husk gives a shrug.

“Guess I’ve had one of the songs stuck in my head recently.” 

You laugh at this, knowing full well what song’s been stuck in his head. 

“Plus, if you’re going to dance for me, you’re going to need music.” Husk says as he walks over to his closet and pulls out a folded up chair.

He sets the chair in the middle of the room before walking over to the record player. Vigilante Shit starts playing before he goes back to sit on the chair, giving you a sly smile. Your face goes red seeing him sit there, but you want this too.

The music reaches the chorus, and you start by standing behind him and the chair as you usually would. You place your foot on his lap with your leg up just as before, only this time, careful not to put too much pressure on his legs. His claws gently caress up your calf, sending a shiver through you. You keep going, though. This time, you put your hands on his shoulders instead of the back of the chair as you come around to the front. With your hands on his shoulders, you slowly lower yourself, straddling his lap before finally plopping down on beat to the music. You can feel it… feel how hard he is as you sit in his lap. His hands come up to settle on your hips as you throw your head back on beat with your back arching. You go to stand as that’s part of the choreography but Husk keeps you in his lap with a firm grip on your hips.

“Sorry gorgeous, but I think I like you right where you are.”

With that, Husk leans in and kisses you. It’s filled with desire and need, as if he was starving for so long, finally getting to eat now. His grip on your hips tightens the more intense the kiss gets. His tongue was rough and easily dominated your own. Your grip on his shoulders also tightened as you gripped his fur, trying to ground yourself. His hips bucked in response to you gripping his fur. You pulled back with a gasping, moaning noise leaving your lips.

“Can I take this off?” Husk said as he gently slid your shirt up a bit before stopping, waiting for a response. 

“Please.” You nod eagerly. 

Husk chuckles at your enthusiasm and pulls the shirt up over your head. “So gorgeous,” Husk purrs out as his hands travel down your now exposed torso. You lean in and place a gentle kiss on his neck. He purrs in response, running a claw under your bra clasp. “And this?” Husk says in a low tone. 

“Yes,” you breathe out between the kisses you're leaving on his neck. He uses his claw to rip the back of the bra before it falls down off your chest. 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Husk says as his hands work their way up to your breasts.

He cupped both breasts in his hands and squeezed gently as he started to kiss and nip at your neck. He then switched to rolling each nipple between thumb and forefinger until they hardened under his touch. You couldn’t help lightly whimpering at the feeling. Husk kissed down your neck to your collar bone before making his way down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked hard on it while continuing to knead the other breast rhythmically with his hand. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you.

You moved your hands from his shoulders to slide down his back before grazing his wings. Husk bit down as the feeling startled him. You winced a bit from the pain before he gently licked the spot he had bitten. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to touch my wings,” he says as he switches to pay attention to your other nipple. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first,” you say, pulling away from his wings. 

“No, it’s okay, I liked it… just startled me, was all,” Husk says before latching onto your nipple and sucking it gently while biting at it.

You slide your hands down his back again before gently grazing some feathers. Husk’s hips grind up into you in response to your touch. He starts to kiss back up your body to your neck, biting as you grind your hips down onto his hard cock, craving friction. His tail swishes lazily behind him, brushing lightly against whatever part of you happened to be nearby.

“Husk,” you whine against him as your hips grind at a steady pace now “Need you… please.” 

Husk rubs your back gently. “I know baby, I know.

Can you sit up slightly for me? I know you can,” Husk encourages.

You do so, lifting yourself from his lap. He’s quick to unbutton his pants and move them down just enough to get his cock out. You slowly sit back down on his thighs as he pumps himself a bit, smearing the precum over his cock. The sight of that right in front of you was enough to make your mouth water and pussy wetter than you thought possible. You were wearing a skirt, so Husk could easily feel how wet you were already through your panties.

Husk hooks a claw under your skirt before looking to you for consent. You nod, smiling, as he slides your skirt up instead of taking it off. “Do you care about these panties?” He says, not taking his eyes off them. 

“No.”

“Good.” With that, Husk rips your panties as they fall to the ground, now in many pieces. He pulls you closer to him, guiding your hips to grind against him. Your slick was now coating his cock as it rubbed against your folds and clit, causing you to moan. 

“Please, Husk,” you begged. 

“Gotta make sure you’re ready… but from how wet you are, I’d say you’re more than ready.”

With that, Husk carefully helps to lift your hips, guiding them to line himself up with your entrance. “Tell me if it hurts, and I’ll stop, okay?” Husk says in a serious tone, making direct eye contact with you. 

“I promise, if it hurts, I’ll tell you.” 

With that, Husk helps to gently lower yourself onto him.

You both moan as his cock slides into you slowly. Being impatient, though, you fully sit down on his cock as it bottoms out inside of you. “Fuck!” Husk hissed from the sudden intense sensation. “Eager are we?” He said teasingly before capturing your lips in his. He kissed you as you adjusted to his size. He wasn’t overly big, but had a good girth and a few rough barbs that lined his cock. After a few seconds, you started to carefully move your hips. With that, he held onto your hips firmly, guiding your movements with gentle thrusts of his own. “That's it,” he murmured encouragingly into your ear. His tail curled possessively around one of your legs. He increased the tempo gradually, matching each upward glide of your hips with an equally forceful downward snap of his.

“Husk,” you moaned. “So good!” You breathe out as you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into it, lost in the pleasure and his scent. He started moving faster now, his hips slamming against yours with increasing urgency. 

“Glad you think so,” he groaned out between clenched teeth as he struggled to maintain control. His one hand moved from your hip to stroking along the curve of your spine while his tail continued its relentless caress on one leg.

“Can’t take much more,” you whined against his neck. Husk's grip on your hips tightened as he heard the desperation in your voice, his own need threatening to overwhelm him. He slammed into you harder and faster now, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. 

“Come for me”, he growled hoarsely into your ear. His claws dug painfully into the soft flesh beneath them, as he was on the edge, too.

Husk felt you tighten around him as you came with a loud moan, your orgasm pushing him to reach his own. He bit down on your shoulder to muffle his moans and to mark you as his cum filled you. He held onto you tightly for several moments afterwards, licking the blood from the bite mark, before finally collapsing back into the chair fully with an exhausted sigh. His heart was racing wildly beneath his furry chest as you leaned against it, panting. “Damn,” he muttered softly under his breath after regaining some sense of composure. “Gotta say, that was even better than my dream.”

“Speaking of dreams, mind if I stay here tonight… with you?” you asked, still resting against his chest fur as his claws now lazily dragged up and down your back. 

“I’d like that.”

In one swift motion, Husk picked you up before carrying you to the bathroom to get cleaned up together. “Sorry if I was rough. You’re bleeding a bit,” Husk says before kissing the bite mark on your shoulder. 

“Everything you did tonight was perfect,” you say as you ruffle his ears.

Once clean, you both made your way to Husk’s bed, as it was now 2am. You cuddled into his chest as he wrapped his wings around your naked body, keeping you warm but also protecting you.

Soon sleep consumed you both, as you slept peacefully in each other’s embrace.

•

•

•

Notes: This was my first attempt at writing fanfiction so please be nice! I welcome feedback! Hope you enjoyed reading this if you made it this far❤️

[operator-report]

do you have any ideas about the undersiders music tastes. your other posts are so beautiful and true

aaah i'm so glad you liked my silly music posts! after some thought this is what i've landed on for the undersiders: taylor: in my heart taylor's mom did this to her, which is why taylor has a better-than-average teen girl knowledge of blondie, neil young, and the police. i think taylor's taste is a mix of dad rock and alt-pop rock hits. she likes the strokes and arctic monkeys. maybe a little mgmt. after her mom dies she stops listening to music that reminds her of her mom, so much less 70s/80s rock, but i don't think she switches to sadder music or anything like that, i think her taste just skews more contemporary after that. after the bullying started she tried out heavy metal really early on because she figured angry music might help her vent but it wasn't her thing. taylor does not listen to radiohead but she's the undersider who would like it the best i think. karma police is a taylor song send tweet

brian: there's a post out there somewhere that talks about brian listening to imagine dragons and that is SO real to me. he listens to imagine dragons. he listens to "tough" guy music that sounds like it could be in car commercials. he also listens to dudes rock music he hears at the gym. brian and taylor both like to match their music to their workouts and they have an immensely geeky conversation about matching bpm at one point. taylor matches it to her running brian matches it to boxing they are in nerd-jock heaven

lisa: she's a tricky one, because the music industry is one that both values authenticity and yet is extremely manufactured. i think that means that lisa finds music in which rich musicians make music about how hard their life is immensely grating. i think sarah livsey's taste was influenced by her brother, and much like how taylor does not listen to music that reminds her of her mom, lisa does not listen to music that sarah used to like. another smugbug yuri of absence moment if you ask me. anyway all that means that lisa listens to three kinds of music: downtempo instrumental electronic, classical, and We Are Up Partying In The Club Tonight Ooh Girl Oh Yeah. i think she finds, e.g., pitbull and eurotrance endearing. if you ask lisa what her favorite kind of music is she'll say something obnoxious like IDM or some shit just to see what the reaction is

rachel: i looked up "do dogs listen to music" and google says they will listen to classical sometimes, so! there you go. if worm took place a little later i think taylor could have introduced limited doses of lofi hip hop study beats to rachel and she would be ok with that too but also like. why listen to music when she could be outside listening to her dogs

aisha: the undersider with the best taste! we know that early worm aisha is a bona fide scene teen, and i think she consequently likes blink-182, pierce the veil, 3oh!3, cobra starship, and maybe a little bring me the horizon. in later worm aisha's taste gets less pop, like deftones, odd future, etc. she's a supervillain who would actually listen to madvillainy. aisha is also probably the only undersider who actively seeks to cultivate her own music taste! a good chunk of the undersiders have trauma that separate them from their interests and/or feelings, but aisha is an undersider who i think is both self aware and also true to herself, as well as being genuinely interested in art!

alec: speaking of undersiders who have a difficult time developing a defined music taste due to being cut off from a strong sense of self. alec in early worm is too depressed/apathetic to seek out music for himself, he'd rather be playing video games or watching movies. which is a shame because disassociating to music is one of the depressed activities of all time! alas alec's vision of a person with Taste is like. cherie. rip. however, aisha completely turns his life around into a guy who likes...................... soulja boy

there you go! tried to keep this period typical and also didn't include bands we know for sure didn't exist on earth bet (such as mcr). however i am very sad aisha and alec didn't get to listen to 100 gecs together. can you imagine. i can imagine and that's why i have a beautiful aishalec amv set to doritos and fritos in my mind

[fbfh]

I swear my love language has to be teaching someone how to dance. You're hanging out with Dave in his room, procrastinating doing your homework, and you're wearing one of his flannels, something that makes his heart flip no matter how many times he sees it. It just does something to him, seeing you in his clothes. It really drives home that feeling that you're his, that you want him. And you do. You really want him. You scooch closer to him, finally setting down the notes you've been pretending like you're going to go over. "I can't believe prom is so soon..." you muse, thinking about the conversation you had with your friend about it earlier. "Oh, yeah... it's totally crazy." He says, hoping you don't catch on to the fact that he totally forgot about prom at all. In his defense, he never thought he'd get a date, or go to prom at all. "Uh, when is it again?" He asks, and you remind him of the date. His stomach sinks. He and Big Daddy have been planning a sting operation for weeks on that exact night. "So, you gonna take me to prom? Get a little corsage, take awkward pictures, laugh at everyone taking it too seriously...?" You muse playfully. Prom. With you. That... that actually sounds really nice. Shit. "Uh..." he fumbles for an answer, "I mean, I can't even dance. I'd just embarrass you," he says, and it’s true. He can't dance, and probably would just end up embarrassing you. You let out a sweet laugh that makes his stomach twist as you grab your headphones and pull him off the bed. "It’s really not that hard, dancing is basically just swaying and bouncing." You give him one of your headphones and put his hands on your waist. Yours are warm on his shoulders, and he feels his cheeks flush at how close you are as some old song starts playing. He's stiff as a board, trying to match your movements. "See?" You say, voice soft, and he starts to relax into your touch. "Not so bad." The late afternoon sun streams in through the windows, making you glow like an angel. You look so pretty, especially up close like this. You smell so good too. Your skin is soft where his fingertips slipped under your shirt. The singer's voice echos through one ear while the other listens to the profound silence in his bedroom. It's just you two up here, alone together in your own little world. You smile up at him and he lets out a soft, flustered giggle. He looks at you with those sparkly puppy dog eyes, admiring everything about you, like you hung the stars in the sky by hand. His mind wanders to how pretty you'd look at prom, all dolled up and fancy, just to dance with him like this, in front of everyone. It's still crazy to Dave that you like him at all, much less as much as you do, and he's still surprised every time you kiss him or hold his hand in public. Prom... with you. The music swells and you run your hands over his shoulders, drawing a wistful, shuddering sigh out of him. He had no issues about missing prom until now. He's going to have to have a really difficult conversation with Big Daddy later about rescheduling some things, because in this moment, he knows there's no way he's missing this with you for anything.

[crmsnmth]

Hello

So, since I'm never satisfied, and it's been quite some time since I did this, here's

Version 5

(I apologize for the length. I kind of just got caught up writing it.)

Introductions Are stupid

Hey. How goes it? Here's a little bit about me, and why I do what I do. We all in? If not, too bad. It's time to move.

I'm a 36 with no pronouns. Just call me whatever you want, I don't give a damn. Pansexual, if you must know my private business. I live in a small town of 2000 people right in the center of the drunken state of Wisconsin. It is not even close to as fun as that sounds, and it doesn't sound all that fun to begin with. It's a place where alcoholism is worn like a goddamn badge of honor. Try being sober when getting alcohol poisoning makes you a legend, and wearing DUI's like peacock feathers. I've lived in many other places though, jumping around the Midwest as if it were playground hopscotch. I guess it's true what some people say though, and we always end up right back at home. I keep coming back here at least.

I work two jobs, both in the same field. For one, I am the kitchen manager/Head Whatever for a Bar/restaurant/bowling alley. I told you, it's a small town. And I also work as a plain old line cook at another bar/restaurant/event center. I've been working the kitchen life since I was sixteen and started working at a Rocky Rococo's Pizza. That sucked and this sucks too. I'm not a fancy chef, and I didn't go to school for shit, but I've been in this industry a long time, and I still love the basics of my job. It's one of the few things that I can actually say I'm good at and take a lot of pride in what I do for work.

I spend most of my time listening to music (it's always playing around me). I listen to all music, and I'm not just saying that. I actually do. You can go through my main playlist and you'll find everything from Slayer to Britney Spears to Alan Jackson to The Casualties to Katy Perry etc… My favorite band of all time is the Descendents (I'm just a square going nowhere). But standing tall in second place is Amigo The Devil (As long as I wake up, I'm already stronger than dead) and Frank Turner (If you're all about the destination, then take a fucking flight) rounding out my top 3. Honorable Mention goes out to Lana Del Rey, Blitzkis, Murderdolls, Poor Man's Poison, Pat "the Bunny"(And all of his projects) and I'm going to stop now or this will just turn into bands I like. I am always on the lookout for new songs to memorize, so tell me the songs that mean the most to you. I seriously want to know.

I am a massive film fan. Mostly old horror, but I love the weirdest movies out there. Art films? Hell yes. Although, I'm still a sucker for the classic 80's slasher, or the 30's Universal horror. I've seen every Friday the 13th (official films, including the remake) enough times that I can quote almost every line from each film (those damn enchiladas). My favorite movie of all time, and I say this without any irony at all, is a little indie number called "The Room." I fucking love Tommy Wiseau's The Room. It is the greatest peice of cinema this world has ever seen. If you have not seen this fucking beautiful trainwreck, please rectify that. Like now. Stop reading this and find a way to watch it. Watch it. Go on, get. Come back to me when you've learned some film culture ettiquette.

I'm mentally screwed and quite medicated. I have come to peace with this fact. I've been as stable as I can get for a good four years now. So that's neat.

I am a raging cynic. I'm not sure if it's by choice or by enviroment. Either way, it's easier this way.

I'm a political nihilist. The system has failed, will continue to fail, and always will fail. It's inevitable and it doesn't matter who you put in charge. It will always fail. So please, shove your political opinions up your ass. I don't care.

I am a recovering addict, long-term. 8 Years. I am sober a little over two.

I started writing young. As soon as I could basically. Stashed somewhere in a box of my dad's thing is a few pieces of paper with a short little story in it. It's awful, but it's the earliest fossil of my work. Writing became a form of therapy and how to cope with my parent's divorce, my extreme depression in my teens, my anger and even lonliness. Words were comfort. Words are easy. Words are what I have to really express myself and I couldn't be happier that I've found other writers who aren't in it for fame or glory, but just for the simple fact that they love to write. I write more than any sane and healthy person should right, but I'm far from sane and I'm far from healthy. I write this much because if I don't, my head will explode into a shower of blood, brain and skull. Take that as a metaphor if you want, but I'm telling you the truth.

I do not write for anyone's actual approval. Not even my own really. I do this because it's the only addiction I have that isn't actively trying to kill me, and is actually trying to better me as a person and get in touch with unresolved feelings and places that will never have closure. Plus, the idea of my skull exploding sounds ok, but I can't leave behind that mess for anyone else to clean up.

I will always love constructive criticism. But please, for the love of all the love in the world, don't just tell me I suck. I get that. It's a massive part of my whole act. Please, give me a reason why I suck, what I'm doing wrong in your eyes. Help me to better this craft I play with. Seriously, I love it. But if you can't give me a reason, maybe it's best you keep that food-hole shut, and stop trying to be a dick, dick.

So what do I write? What do I put here on my tiny molecule of the internet? Bad poetry, and way too much of that. You'll find random crappy drops of stores or fiction (September Sky is still being worked on, I didn't forget about it). You'll find song lyrics for songs never written, scripts for films never shot, speeches given to people who aren't alive anymore, letters that never get sent. I try to write something at least once a day, but If I get on a roll, I'll post up to 15 or 20 new posts a day. Call it obsession if you want. I guess by definition, you wouldn't be wrong.

So since, I write some much, what topics to a tap dance to the grave with? I'm pretty predictable. So this stuff:

The Girl with the Ocean Blue Eyes*, Kid*, The Broken Mirror Girl*, My Junkie Angel*, My April Fool's Riddle*, The Cynic's Best Friend*, love, lost lovers, hopelessness, isolation, drug addiction, alcoholism, depression, forgotten acquaintances, mental illnesses, rage, hate, rejection, joy, insignificant moments, slices of life, laughter, beauty, self and self-reflection, self-hate, art, other writers, panic, infatuations, obsession, therapy, group homes, rehab, jail, grace, nature, loss, hope, fear, grief, anguish, philosophy, anarchism, nihilism, religion, god, the devil, ugliness, politics, serial killers, cults, suicide, death, destruction, chaos, music, validation, closure, memory, enemies, friends, rock bottom, sex, violence, rock and roll, sin, self-exploration, bipolar disorder, schizoaffective disorder, pain, self-destruction much more. I'm a firm believer that tragedy equals beauty, and take the tragic parts of my life, the shit that really bothers me, to this day, and I write it out. Maybe someone will see those words and realize they aren't alone. Wow, that's not very cynical of me, is it? Ok, fuck those people. Is that better?

Consider this little spot your trigger warning. Seriously, if just read the paragraph above you and think I play it all that safe, your definitely in the wrong place. I will talk of horrible things. They will bring horrible feelings. They could set you off. I'm stating it once, here and now, under a blanket term. Read what you want, but read with caution.

I make music as well as the writing gig. I don't bust out music as much as I do words, but I still have fun doing what I do, and if you'd like to tell me how much I suck at it, please do exactly that. At either of these chosen sites (Reverb has everything. I'm too cheap to pay for Soundcloud's stuff):

Look, if I came off has Nr. Doom, the misery poet archetype, the aged out punk rocker, the reclusive loner, I'm really…I was about to lie and say I wasn't those things, but that's is what I am. I am also a lover of art, a lover of food, a lover of love, an artist, a weirdo, a very scared individual, paranoid, insecure about everything, socially awkward kid who never grew out of black Misfits t-shirts and chain wallets. I am not an animal. I'm a goddamn human being.

Oh, because I get asked about them or why I just seem to ignore them. I am the goddamn king of typos. Missing letters, misspelled words, horrible grammar, broken sentences, sometimes even missing words. I'm really good at them, and I'm almost positive there is always something I could go back and fix. But I'm not gonna do that. I don't want to. If you can get the meaning of what I'm saying, the message is more important to me than the medium. I type way faster than my skill, and my brain works way to fucking fast for my hands to keep up, so it becomes a race to get words on page. And then my fingers tap dance and trip over themselves. I knew I should've sprung for lessons.

There. There's bare bones about me and what I'm about and where I stand. If there is anything else you'd want to know for some godforsaken reason, go ahead and message me. I may not be real good at it, I do enjoy having fifteen second conversations. I always finish early.

*NOT REAL NAMES

[sunnyie-eve]

19 | Annoying Triplet

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

| MASTERLIST |

"Hey hey, it's me Dani and as you can tell by my title, I have a guest today." Dani smiles over at Chris.

"Chris Sturniolo!" He shouts throwing his arms up.

"Yeah, I'm with the most annoying triplet today." Dani looks over at Chris, who throws a straw's paper into her backseat, "Chris! Why are you throwing trash in my backseat? There's literally a bag right there for trash! That's how you repay me by being the first on my channel?"

"Sorry," He laughs, "Sorry Dani," He sings to her, "I'll make you a song." He starts so pretends to make music, "Like it?" He laughs more.

"I'm regretting my decision having you." She looks over at him, "And I want you here."

"Yes?" He asks with a playful look.

"Eww, the way you said yes." They both laugh, "Yes." She mocks how he said it making him laugh more, "That's how you sounded. A creepy old man."

"Oh sweetheart." He says in the same tone.

"Ahh! I'm having flashbacks to a man Nick and I walked past the other day. He was so creepy and he followed us to." Dani whines thinking back.

"He did?"

"Yeah, he did." She nods her head, "So Nick talked about my boyfriend."

"Should've called and I would've ran to save you from that situation." Chris tells her.

"Yeah?"

"I'd be like; Sir, I know my beautiful girlfriend is good looking." He explains to her so she tries not to blush.

"That's actually crazy." She covers her mouth. "You would run not even have Matt drive you?" She asks, "We were far from the house."

"Matt would have not driven me to save the day. Only because the he would want to save the day." Chris explains.

"That's true,"

"He always does." Chris huffs.

"He's done it twice." Dani laughs at him being moody.

"But it seems like he's done it more times."

"Not to me." She tells him.

"Seriously? Really?"

"Yeah, the phone and bowling." She explains the two times.

"And inviting you to move in." He adds.

"If you count that then you have to count all the times he's had my back in the podcast too. If that's the case, you have saved the day at times too." She explains to him, "Which I appreciate but you don't literally have to run to help me out. Saying your girlfriend is not gonna stop a creepy old man."

"We don't know that for sure so let's go test it out." He laughs then sees Tanner in the distance walking to his car and he sees them as well. "Oh shit, it's T-Clown." Chris says so Dani looks up to see him as well.

Dani flips him off as she starts the car, "Can you get the camera for me please. We gotta find a new stop to finish up."

"Bye bye till we cut back." Chris goes to grab the camera.

"Jackass." Dani groans.

Once they find an another parking lot with less cars they park and continue for Dani's video, "Excuse you." She says as he burps.

"You know he still gives me shit." He says then burps again.

"Excuse you," She says again for him.

"I just read them and laugh." He adds.

"Why haven't you blocked him?" She asks confused a little not understanding why he hasn't if he constantly sends shit.

"Because it's my daily routine to read and laugh. He's so stupid like it's ridiculous." He tells her.

"I have him and her both blocked. I don't need stalkers. Unlike you loving the attention." Dani makes Chris laugh.

"You aren't successful if you don't have haters." He says trying to make a point to her and something catches her eye.

"Something is on your face." She reaches over trying to get it off for him.

"Yeah attractiveness." He smiles causing her to laugh super hard, "But to asshole, I'm ugly like him. Dude, I just have a bad hairline." Chris says about himself.

"You have edits so..." Dani points out giving him a smile.

"And he doesn't."

"Exactly." She says so he laughs a bit.

"Do you have a favorite edit or one that sticks out?" He asks trying to catch her so she looks at him with a smile.

"I do actually." She pulls out her phone, "Let me show you my favorite one of each of y'all." She goes to her bookmarks and he sees each one of then had their on folder.

"You have more than one?" He laughs as she nods her head playing his first.

"This is my number one out of all of yours I like." She turns her phone towards him more so gently can watch it.

"The song is a choice..." He gives her a look with a cocky smile.

"Shut up before I throw you out of my car." She glares at him.

"Okay, now show me Matt's."

Dani goes to her Matt folder but doesn't play the one she favored the most and Chris catches her skipping that one.

"No, no! You skipped one." He takes her phone from her.

"Chris stop it!" She tries to get it back as he watches it. "And no, I'm not showing y'all which ones." Dani looks up at her camera.

"You got secrets." Chris laughs at her.

"No I do not!" She snatches her phone back. "They don't mean anything in that way." She explains getting embarrassed.

"Oh really?" He leans towards her.

"Yes, really." She smacks his forehead, "Most of my Nick one are funny edits. I fucking love them." She shows them to him and he laughs as well.

Getting back home, Chris follows Dani into her room, "You know you can tell me if you have a thing for Matt right."

"Well I don't so." She turns to face him, "A stupid edit means nothing so don't overthink it." She tosses her stuff onto her bed. "And I don't know why you think that either because your edit was very similar. So why aren't you asking the same about yourself?"

"Because I don't think you have a thing for me." He laughs at himself.

"And if I secretly did?" She crosses her arms.

"Well do you?" He steps closer to her.

"No, but why do you think I wouldn't like you like that?" She steps back from him.

"Because I'm super annoying. We have the least amount in common. I don't seem like your type." He uses what mostly sticks out to him personally.

"Yeah, we have the least amount in common but that doesn't matter. And yes, you're super annoying at times but that's what I love about you. You can always lighten up the mood and just by your laugh too. And you have no idea what my type is so don't say you're not it."

"You love that I'm annoying?" He gets a stupid smile.

"At times I do. So don't push it." She points her finger at him, "Now get out of my room."