#we played laser tag for my best friend’s birthday last year and I kind of creamed her

[avalondesigns]

Avalon’s laser tag center

[e-dubbc11]

Game On

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Supporting Character: Frank Castle

Warnings: None really, maybe a couple swear words but other than that, this is pure fun. There are a few smooches.

Word Count: 5,065-ish (I’m sorry, it’s a little longer than what I usually put out )

Summary: Your best friend and co-worker, Ginger has an idea for a fun Saturday afternoon. She suggests a game of laser tag and also suggests you bring along your boyfriend Billy and his best friend Frank.

A/N: This just sounded like so much fun that I had to write it down. And my sweet friend Lily @munsonownsmyass mentioned how much she loved Ginger from my Happy Birthday fics so I figured I’d give her more love. She is based on my bff, she is the most fun and I can so picture her doing this. I hope you guys like it! Oh I did stick a quote from Mr. & Mrs. Smith in here

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕💕

“Hey! What are you doing next weekend?” Ginger asked you excitedly as she looked over at you from her desk which was next to yours. The work day was always filled with interruptions from either her or you randomly bringing up obscure ideas that just popped into your heads.

The clicking of your keyboard stopped as you looked over at her. “Next weekend? I don’t think I have anything goin on. Why, what’s up?” You were very intrigued, Ginger was always full of great ideas and fun things to do.

She removed her blue light glasses and set them down on her desk. “Because I was thinking that we should go and play laser tag.”

Your eyebrows automatically raised like being pulled up by strings. “Laser tag?!!”

“Yeah!! Get a few people from around the office, you bring that smexy boyfriend of yours, oh he should bring Frank…and his kids would probably love it!”

You pondered for a minute before answering her, it did sound like a lot of fun. “Ya know what, that does sound like fun. I’ll talk to Billy when he gets home tonight.”

Billy Russo was your devastatingly handsome boyfriend and former boss. After confessing that he had feelings for you last year at your birthday party, you resigned from your position at his company, Anvil, and started your relationship.

Since that night, you have never been happier, you got a new job working with your best friend and you and Billy recently moved in together. Life was very good.

“Laser tag?!!” Billy exclaimed, flashing that blinding smile at you. “How many people will there be?”

“I dunno yet.”

“What kind of set up is it?”

“I dunno…”

“Is it a point system or is it a you get shot and you’re out situation?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, soldier…at ease! I don’t know yet.” You were smiling because you saw the competitive glow in his dark brown eyes begin to brighten at the very mention of a game. “I just wanted to know if you wanted to play next weekend, that’s all.” Billy was quite the competitor, he always had to be the best—at everything.

He bit his bottom lip and looked down, tilting his glass of bourbon back and forth, you knew he was already strategizing in his head how he was going to win. “I know that look, Billy!”

“What look, baby?”

“Don’t you play innocent with me, I know you’re already thinking about how you’re going to win. Besides, it’s not a sure thing that you’re going to win, I’m a pretty good shot, ya know.”

Billy set his bourbon on the coffee table, the amber liquid moving back and forth in the glass, he pulled you into his lap so you were straddling him and you started to rake your fingers through his soft hair.

He touched his forehead to yours. “I know you’re a good shot, sweet girl. You had a great teacher.” You wanted to wipe that smug look right off of his handsome face.

“Oh and you and Frank can’t be on the same team either.” You said with a warm smile and a wink.

“What?!! If you’re such a good shot, my love, it shouldn’t matter if Frankie and I are on the same team.”

You pointed a finger right into his chest. “Don’t you try to get in my head, Russo. I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not gonna work.”

Wide eyed and grinning like a Cheshire cat, Billy couldn’t defend his actions, he couldn’t hide what he was trying to do but he loved that you knew him so well.

You always knew when he needed a little extra attention, you could tell from his texts if he was in a good mood or a bad one, you could even tell by the way he took his bourbon if he had a good day or bad day. If he had it with ice, it was a good day, no ice—a bad day.

On days he went to visit his dying mother, he always put on his black and blue tie, little things like that you picked up on, you paid attention to him which he still wasn’t used to, but he loved, and if he felt like talking about his day, good or bad, you were there to listen.

Because Billy held a lot inside, the times where he did want to talk, you stopped whatever you were doing to listen, you wanted to encourage him to talk more, to make him feel more comfortable telling you what was bothering him.

Today, however, was a very good day and he was the only one talking at dinner, telling you all about what he and Frank did on assignment today. But he seemed very curious and excited about laser tag. “Well I’m all in for laser tag, baby. I’ll ask Frankie if he wants to do it and bring the kids.”

You lightly clapped your hands together. “Oh yay! This is gonna be so much fun! I’m going to text Ginger right now.”

Billy carefully watched you get up from the couch and walk into the kitchen to get your phone, and he kept his gaze on you until you came back to the couch. He always did that, stared at you with great affection any time you had to step away from his presence.

He was still quiet when you sat down and draped your legs over him. “What? What is it?” You asked him.

Billy inched closer to you, leaning you backwards so your head rested against the arm of the couch and gave you a deep, passionate kiss. “Nothing.” He said shaking his head. “I just…love you.”

You always thought Billy’s beautiful dark eyes were looking straight through you, like he could see everything that was happening on the inside of your body.

The flutters in your stomach that happened any time he looked in your direction, the goosebumps that erupted on your skin when he touched you, and the way your heart skipped any time he flashed you that gorgeous smile. You just had a feeling he could see it all, he loved you so much.

“I love you too handsome—and you’re goin DOWN!” You said with confidence.

He just laughed a little and told you “We shall see, beautiful. We shall see.”

The following week at work was just a competition of who could do the most shit talking. You and Ginger had recruited three more people for laser tag, and Billy asked Frank if he wanted to come and bring the kids. Altogether there were nine people, so you’d split everyone up into three groups of three.

Team 1 would be Billy, Joe, and Frank’s daughter Lisa, Team 2 would be you, Phil, and Frank Jr. and Team 3 would be Frank, Ginger, and Chris. Joe, Phil and Chris were friends of yours that worked in your building.

“Ginger, where are you going? I thought we were going shopping?” You asked after clocking out for the day.

“Oh I can’t! I forgot I have to meet Frank and Chris for a strategy session. Oh and I’m telling Frank that I get the biggest gun they have. The team captain should have the biggest gun.” She stated with conviction.

You started to laugh. “You’re having a strategy session? Also, does Frank know you designated yourself team captain?”

She had a devil like smile on her face when she replied with “No, but he will when he sees my special laser tag outfit I made with a ‘Captain’ patch on it.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and closed your eyes. “Wait…you made your own laser tag outfit?”

“Of course I did! It’s all camo.”

You nodded your head. “Yep, of course it’s all camo. Ok well have fun strategizing! I’ll see you guys tomorrow for lunch before game time!” You waved goodbye to Ginger as she headed off to meet Frank and Chris.

On your way to lunch, you were thinking about the only strategy you had for the game which was you had picked two of the shortest people to be on your team and made sure that they wore dark color clothing.

You and Billy were both dressed in black from head to toe and even though you loved to see Billy in his nice suits, he looked so good in more casual clothing also. From the black boots on his feet, to the black sweatshirt he had on up top, he’s the sexiest man you’ve ever seen.

“What is it, love?” Billy asked you as he drove.

You bit your bottom lip as you looked up at him and delicately moved your fingers up and down his thigh. “I was just thinking about how handsome you are.” Ok maybe you had another strategy, but he could see through your little head game.

“Uh huh, I know what you’re doing—don’t you bat your eyelashes at me.” He didn’t even give you a chance to turn on the charm, although it didn’t stop him from smiling and blushing. “Nice try, beautiful. It takes a lot more to get in my head.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Eh, can’t blame me for tryin’ though, right? I do like this look you have goin’ on though, it’s sexy.” You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

Billy parked the car and the two of you made your way inside the restaurant where everyone was waiting for you. Frank’s kids took one look in your direction, got up from their seats and charged at Billy. “UNCLE BILLY!!!!” They had the look of pure joy on their face when they rushed over to hug him, and after they hugged him, they grabbed onto you to give you a hug also.

“Hey y/n! We’re going to beat Uncle Billy and Dad’s teams right?!” Frank Jr. asked wide eyed and animated.

Frank’s daughter Lisa, looked at her brother, rolled her eyes, and told him. “Uncle Billy and I are going to win, Junior.”

Billy adored Frank’s children. “Alright, alright let’s eat so we can go play ok?” Billy said to the kids and ushered them back towards their seats.

As you walked over towards the group, you overheard Ginger say “I just don’t understand why we have to be stuck with Sasquatch over here, no offense Chris but you stick out like a sore thumb and you’re an easy target is all I’m sayin’.”

All Frank could do was roll his eyes. “Does anyone want to change teams? And can we talk about how Ginger made herself team Captain?” He leaned back in his chair with his arms extended out to the sides.

“I have the patch, Frank. I get to be Captain.” Ginger made sure everyone saw her patch.

“You have the patch that you sewed on YOURSELF!! And where did you get that outfit anyway?” He asked.

Ginger loved messing with Frank. “Don’t worry about it.” She said.

You chimed in. “She made it, Frank.”

“Of course she did.” He said with a furrowed brow.

Following lunch, the group made their way to the laser tag arena. It was quite a large facility, you took one look inside and saw all the obstacles, barriers, and flashing lights that were all over the place, this was going to be a lot of fun.

After a couple of employees explained the rules, they led you into the room that held all the vests and “guns.” There was an upstairs area as well as the main floor and the object of the game was to knock players out of the game by hitting all of their sensors. Last team/person standing, wins.

There were sensors on the front of the vest, the back of the vest and one on the gun itself. After a person is hit, their gun is temporarily disabled and will not fire so others have a chance to hit more sensors and/or knock them out of the game.

Aside from a few black lights, the rooms had all the lights turned off so after putting your vest on and helping Frank Jr. with his, you took a walk through the rooms so your eyes had time to adjust to the darkness, the lights on your vest provided a small amount of light when you moved from room to room.

After walking around in the darkness for a couple of minutes, you heard someone call out your name, it was Ginger. “Soooooo they just told me I can’t use my night vision goggles, what’s next? Are they gonna tell me I can’t do a barrel roll?!”

Frank just shook his head. “No barrel rolls, Ginger! We’re trying to win this, yeah?! And how did you get night vision goggles?!” He looked exasperated already, but it just made you laugh harder.

“Your team rules are like prison Frank, ya know that?!!!” Ginger yelled back and giggled. It brought her such joy to harass Frank, it’s probably why she suggested that Billy ask him to come along.

Frank Jr. was wondering why everyone on your team was shorter, you told him it’s a good thing that everyone on the team is shorter, it’s easier to hit a taller target than a shorter one. “So let’s try to take Chris out of the game first, he’s the tallest one here. You ready, kiddo?” Junior nodded in agreement and gave you a hi-five.

Each team started in a different area, your team carefully made their way to other parts of the arena to search for members of the opposite teams, making sure not to bunch together. There were different objects for you to hide behind or take cover behind like, barrels, make shift walls, piles of sand bags.

Starting upstairs, you made sure to remind Frank Jr. to check around corners before moving out, Billy’s military training advice to you, paid off. His sister came rushing around the corner and Junior took out two of her sensors before taking off running and laughing maniacally, leaving Lisa there unable to fire her weapon back at him. “I’m gonna get you, Junior!!!”

You always knew when Ginger and Frank were nearby because they did nothing but argue with each other, Frank would try and get away from her but she would just follow him, mostly just to get on his last nerve. “Ginger, don’t make me take out my own teammate. Or maybe I’ll just take myself out so I don’t have to deal with you anymore, yeah?”

It was so amusing to watch the two of them interact, you didn’t want to give away where you were so you tried very hard not to laugh out loud at their banter.

One thing you knew about Billy was he was very light on his feet, you never heard him coming. It’s how he managed to sneak up behind you and scare you at least once a week when you were cooking dinner or folding laundry. He was stealthy like a cat, planned out his attacks very carefully and he’d laugh every time he got a jump scare out of you.

So you weren’t surprised when you watched him from upstairs, sneak up behind Frank and Ginger and knock out one sensor each on their backs and disappear just as quickly as he appeared.

Phil and Junior found Chris and knocked out all of his sensors all at one time. He tried to hide but he was so tall, he didn’t fit behind anything or couldn’t crouch down low enough to get out of the way of the lasers. He ended up being the first one knocked completely out of the game, so now there were eight players left.

As you cautiously and quietly watched from your perch, you heard a lot of commotion coming from downstairs. Sensors going off left and right, while keeping a close eye on Billy, his silhouette gliding in between obstacles, as he tried to avoid getting hit.

He moved along the bottom of the stairs, pointing his gun up to check for the “enemy” and you observed him start to climb the stairs so you hid behind some stacked barrels. You’d have your chance to stun him when he moved forward to observe what was going on below him.

“You up here, sweet girl? I swept the entire first floor, you have to be around somewhere.” He murmured.

Billy was smart, even though he thought he might be alone, he still kept his weapon close to his chest. You’d have to make these shots count.

He walked out slowly towards the railing and you had a clear shot of the sensor on his gun so you took it. Got him. “Gotcha, handsome!”

With a shocked look on his face, Billy watched you walk around the barrel barrier and over to him, he couldn’t fire his weapon in retaliation for a full 30 seconds. “Oh look at that, I’m winning.” You chuckled and gently brushed his beard with your fingers.

The competitive fire in Billy’s eyes was burning bright, he couldn’t believe you got the drop on him. He hated to lose and would not take it easy on you once he was free to fire his weapon again. “That’s only one, baby. Only one. Care to make a friendly wager?” He couldn’t resist.

And you couldn’t help yourself either, you were on a high from landing your first shot so you grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, quickly let go, and started to back away before he could draw you in close. “If I win, you have to buy me something pretty.”

“And what about when I win, beautiful?” He smirked and wiped the sweat off of his brow.

You pondered for a split second. “You still have to buy me something pretty but I’ll take you to dinner…and I won’t wear any underwear. How’s that?”

Billy lowered his weapon because he couldn’t contain his smile. It took over his entire face and he started to blush. “You got yourself a deal, love. Shake on it?”

You weren’t that stupid, his stun time was almost up and you had to get downstairs quickly. “Oh no, no my love—you’re going to have earn the shots you take at me, no freebies.” Before heading down the stairs, you took one more shot and hit one of the sensors on his chest, you were going to need all the help you could get.

“DAD!!!!” Lisa yelled after her father shot out her last sensor.

Frank was having a blast with his kids. “I’m sorry sweetheart, you know I can’t let you win.”

“Real nice, Frankie. Taking out your own daughter like that.” Billy’s voiced echoed from up above.

Frank pointed his laser up towards Billy and replied. “Yeah and I’m gonna take out my son too, as soon as I can find him! Hey why don’t you come out to where I can see you, Bill?!”

Lisa had hit one of the targets on your chest before Frank hit her last one so you hid behind a pile of sandbags while the stun wore off and Joe had fired the final shot to knock Phil out of the game.

Six players left.

Frank Jr’s strategy, despite what you told him to do, was basically to just run around and see if he could hit any targets which worked well for him until it didn’t. Billy, Frank and Ginger all took shots at Junior as he ran back and forth.

And he continued to run around even after Ginger nailed his last sensor. “You’re out, Junior!! Don’t make me tell your dad!!” She yelled at him as he hurried past her and the announcement over the loud speaker stated that everyone left had one live sensor left except you had two left. And you were the only one left on your team so you knew everyone was coming for you.

Billy wasn’t the only one who could be light on his feet, you managed to sneak up behind Joe and took out his last one so now Billy was the only one left on his team.

“Ginger, what are you doing? It’s two against two, y/n and Bill are the only ones left on their teams, we can win this! I said no barrel rolls!” Frank yelled in typical Frank fashion as Ginger tried to roll from one barrier to another but Billy shot her last sensor on her gun.

“I’m hit!!” She extended her hand to try and get Frank to grab her and pull her to the side and in dramatic fashion yelled “Leave no man behind, Frank! Take my hand!”

Frank crouched down next to Ginger and angrily stated “Great! Now I have to do this by myself.” And no sooner had he said that, Billy knocked out Frank’s last sensor on his lower left side.

“You’re done, Frankie.” Billy laughed, and Frank just threw his hands up in defeat.

You could hear Frank and Ginger arguing with each other all the way back to the holding room.

“If you just stuck to the plan like I told you, we could have won, Ginger.” Frank grumbled.

Of course Ginger had a reply at the ready. “Yeah but how cool did I look when I did my barrel roll? You think anyone got that on video? I’m gonna ask.”

Now that it was down to just you and Billy, you had to figure out how you were going to win this. Outsmarting your boyfriend in combat was going to be difficult, this is what Billy does best.

And during Ginger’s dramatic performance roll, she did manage to hit the sensor on your back as you were running away from her, so you were down to one now also and you needed to get to higher ground before he did.

“You still alive, baby?!” That line from Mr. and Mrs. Smith always made you smile, you shouted it in Billy’s direction and most likely gave away your position, as you headed for the stairs, not knowing that Billy had already made it to the top without you noticing.

You kept your gun close to your vest, the last live sensor was the one on your upper left side so you wanted to keep that one hidden. Stopping at the foot of the steps, you pointed your gun up towards the top and you heard and saw a few laser shots fired down at you and then you heard his voice.

“Come on up, beautiful. I’m waiting.” You could tell he had a sly grin on his face when he said that.

There was another staircase that led to the upstairs on the other side of the arena and maybe since your live sensor was on the front of your vest, you’d be able to get there without getting hit but you wanted to finish this now so with your gun at the ready, you started to climb the stairs. When you made it to the top, Billy was standing in the middle of the area with his gun resting on the ground.

You stared at him with a very puzzled look on your face. “What are you doing, Billy? Why is your gun on the ground?” You took notice of his lone sensor, it was opposite yours on his upper right side. The guns are tethered to the vests so it was just resting on the ground next to him.

“I thought we could settle this duel style, baby girl.” He licked his lips, you could tell he was enjoying this and his cockiness was showing. “Put it down.” He said in a stern, low whisper.

Everyone in the other room watched on the monitors as the two of you stood across from each other. “What are they doing? Why doesn’t she just take him out, he’s unarmed.” Ginger said while pointing at the screens.

“Bill wants to settle this with a duel, it looks like.” Frank said with a little laugh. “He’s fast, but I’ve seen her shoot, she’s quick on the draw too.” He was curious and folded his hands in anticipation of what was going to happen next.

You placed your weapon next to your right foot, Billy studied your glowing white sensor, narrowing his dark chocolate like eyes at you and you knew he was trying to get in your head. “You think you can beat me, baby?” He slowly ran his tongue over his teeth and crossed his arms across his chest.

The smile that spread across your face was hard to control, the heat within your body caused you to blush, and you hated the way he was looking at you but loved it at the same time. This was turning you on and he knew it.

Back in the other room, Frank asked his kids “Who do you think is gonna win?”

Lisa was the first to answer. “Uncle Billy is gonna win.”

“Nah, y/n will win. What do you think Dad?” Junior asked.

“I wanna see y/n win. Your Uncle Billy is too cocky for his own good.” Frank said with a slight smirk.

“What are they waiting for? I’m ready for happy hour!!” Ginger remarked.

“Your call, handsome.” With a smirk on your face, you narrowed your eyes to match his. “Hands up, so it’s fair.” Billy raised his hands to mimic yours.

“We’ll go on three. Ready?” Billy asked.

You nodded and then waited.

Billy counted off. “One…two…three.”

After the word “three,” you each pulled the gun up by the tether, pointed it at each other’s chest and pulled the trigger. His sensor went dark, but so did yours and you weren’t sure who won.

The arena lights turned on and you both shrugged your shoulders. “Who won?” You asked him. “I saw your light go off.” You extended your arm and pointed at him.

“And I saw YOUR light go off. Maybe we have to look at a replay but I think I won.” Billy said with confidence.

“Oh are you that sure of yourself, Mr. Russo? Let’s go find out.” You said as you raced over to the stairs with Billy hot on your heels.

After turning in your gun and your vest, the two of you went into the holding room where everyone else was. Half of them said you won and the other half said Billy did, but you were anxiously waiting for someone to come in with the official results.

“Well, we checked out the footage, it looks like…the two of you hit each other’s target at the exact same time.”

Everyone groaned and demanded to see the footage so they played it and after analyzing it for a good ten minutes, there really was no doubt that both sensors went dark at the exact same time.

Frank’s booming voice yelled over everyone. “Alright, alright, let’s go get a beer and Shirley temple’s for the kids, yeah?!”

They all followed Frank out of the room while you and Billy stayed back for a minute, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled you in close and kissed the top of your head. You had your eyes closed as you rested your head against his chest.

“Looks like you get to pick out something pretty.” Billy smiled against the top of your head. “This was a lot of fun. You are definitely a good shot, beautiful.”

Pulling away from Billy slightly, you extended your arms to lightly stroke his beard with your thumbs. “Well, I did have a pretty good teacher.” He had that smug look on his face again. “And it looks like you get to have a nice dinner…on me.”

He leaned forward to look into your eyes. “And?”

You rolled your eyes. “Aaaaaand…I won’t wear any underwear to dinner. Anything else?”

“Kiss me.” He growled with a purr against your ear.

You didn’t hesitate at Billy’s command, looking up at him through your long lashes, you pulled his face back towards yours and delicately pressed your lips against his. He tasted like salt and peppermint.

His hands moved from your waist to cup your face and he deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours but you pulled away before he could lay you down on the couch that was in front of you. You’d definitely be banned from laser tag forever if things had continued. And even though your hair was a mess and you had been sweating from all the running around, Billy still looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Come on, handsome. Everyone’s waiting.” You kissed him on the cheek.

Billy laced his fingers with yours and led you out of the room, everyone else was waiting at the entrance.

“Where have you two been?” Ginger asked. “Ohhhhhh, I know what you were doing.” She gave the two of you a wink. “ANYWAY!! I already have ideas for our next group outing. Karaoke sounds fun doesn’t it, Frank?!”

She knew she hit a nerve, you could almost see Frank having flashbacks to your birthday party where Ginger entertained the guests with her singing “skills.”

“Absolutely not, Ginger! Nope, not gonna happen.” Frank started to walk ahead of everyone else.

“What about Go-Karts?! We can get racing outfits.” She chased after him.

“No, Ginger.”

“A trampoline park!”

“No.”

“Ok, but seriously we need to talk about my barrel roll. It must have looked really cool, right? They caught it on video and sent it to me, wanna see?!” She asked excitedly.

“We wanna see!!” Frank’s kids said in unison.

“Stop encouraging her!” Frank said with a slight smile. You could tell he had a really good time despite playfully arguing with Ginger. He glanced back at you and Billy, mostly looking at how happy Billy was.

For a long time, he didn’t know Billy was even capable of being that happy and that was all because of you. He thought about how much his kids love their uncle Billy. And with a smirk on his face, his final thought before turning around was maybe sometime in the not so distant future, he would get to be called “Uncle Frankie.”

Frank let out a deep breath and even though he may regret what he was about to ask, he asked anyway. “Alright Ginger, tell me more about these Go-Karts.”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕

[weeb-writor]

Taking a “Bullet” for you

Hello! So today I have another Bakugou x reader but this time as requested(cause its a request ;p) the reader is male! Feel free to read it if you are any other gender tho! First time writing for a male reader so I hope its good! Also I don't know shit about paintball so I did a little research but most of its years of Laser tag knowledge from birthday parties at Zap Zone lmao. Hope you enjoy!

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Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Masc!Reader and Bakugou meet at a paintball event and fluffy moments take place

Words:1180

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You were so excited to attend the weekend long Paintball event. Not to brag but you were pretty damn good, always placing number 1. Of course, you did have a reputation of being unbeatable. This weekend would be no different although you did hope someone there was at least a challenge.

“L/N, dude! Nice to see you again!” One of the regulars greeted you. 

“I wasn't gonna miss this for anyone or anything!” You said with a grin.

“Did not doubt that at all, man. Lots of new faces this time around. I hope their good or we don't get matched up with them.” He said and you glanced around and there were new people, your eyes met fiery red ones. You smirked at the owner of the red eyes before your focus was back on the conversation you were having.

“Huh, who said I even wanted to be paired with you.” You gave him a shove but before he was able to get a remark the admins called for you guys to start getting your papers with your given team. It was pretty quick and soon you were gearing up, the red eyed guy next to you.

“L/n, I'm so glad I'm paired with you!” Madoka, who was another regular, said next to you.

“Glad to be with you, don't think I'm gonna carry all of you though.” You said with a chuckle, everyone around laughing too.

“Okay, so the best strategy is to pair up and go after them that way. If you're caught alone you're likely to be targeted by multiple people but do not! Absolutely do not group up, you'll create a bigger target. That being said you and you pair should be in range of each other but not too close. When picking a target try to find groups, trios, or solos that are preoccupied. Got it?” You said to the small group everyone nodded at you.

“And what makes you in charge?” The blonde says frowning at you.

“Nothing and I’m not in charge, just trying to win.” You smiled at him, he huffed but didn't say anything further.

“Okay then, let's pair up!” You said any almost everyone rushed to your side, you deadpanned before your eyes caught the blondes again.

“Sorry guys, I’m with… firecracker!” You waved them off with a smile.

“I don't need a damn partner! And my name is not firecracker dumbass.” He roared at you. You smirked at him.

“I'm sure you don't but I do plus I wanna see how we match up against each other! See who’s best y’know.” You said leaning against the near wall. His eyes glinted and you smiled at him.

“I’m L/n and happy to be your player two.” You said extending your hand. He glanced to his side but shook your hand.

“Yeah, heard that from your adoring fans… I’m Bakugou.” He said as the countdown began, you and everyone else readied themselves and soon you were off. Everything was pretty standard so far you had hit 12 people and Bakugou hit 10. He was a little too close to your score for your liking.

“You might wanna speed up princey, i'm coming for your score.” He said lowly to you, you let out a low chuckle at him as your eyes caught something behind you. You didn't have time to warn Bakugou before you tackled him to the ground. His eyes located the person behind the tree with ease and quickly put his arms around your body and angled the gun to shoot them, hitting them dead in their chest. They were quick to scatter.

“Nice shot.” You said getting up and offering him a hand. He took it with a grumble. Just like that the match was over, your team winning of course. The curious thing was you and Bakugou’s score. After taking into account all the people you shot, your style points, and other things. You ranked first by .5, not even a whole point. This had never happened before, it was sort of thrilling. Bakugou even though he was behind by .5 was elated and smug his friends hyping him up. You walked over to them with a smile.

“So i’ve gotta go but you plan on coming back tomorrow or any other weekend?” You said to him kind of hopefully.

“Like I’d come back to play at this shitty place again, I only came cause Kiri wanted me too!” He roared at you.

“Okay, see you tomorrow firecracker.” You winked at him which he blew up at. You weren't surprised to see him and his friends there the next day.

“Hello firecracker, nice to see you again.” You grinned at him.

“Don’t call me that and I am not here for you! I’m here to wipe the floor with you and steal your fans.” He said roughly to you.

“Oh so you want to do something with me?” You smiled at him

“That’s not what I said you shitty man!” He shouted and you erupted into laughter. You two were on the same team again and in the end Bakugou was behind you again this time by a smaller margin, .3 to be exact. 

“Catching up.” Bakugou grinned, waving at you as he walked out the door. This light teasing was had become routine every weekend, at some point his friends stopped coming and it was just the two of you. At the moment you two were both looking at your results, both smirking.

“Congrats on number 1, firecracker.” You said to him with a smirk.

“Yeah, congrats on number one too.” He said with a small smile not meeting your eyes. Yeah, you had both had tied after almost 2 months of him trailing behind by a hair.

“Here, got this for you.” He said shoving something into your hands. It was a fairly large box with a messy bow on the top. You opened it to reveal a Paintball gun in your favorite color with an explosion charm, the same one on Bakugou’s gun.

“Thank you!! It's so awesome!... you know I was thinking im a cool dude you're hot and sorta cool, we should go on a date.” You said to him with a toothy grin.

“Don't get it twisted! I’m not into a shitty guy like you, i'm just thanking you for...playing with me.” He trailed off angrily at the end.

“I don't know the way you took a “bullet” for him really says otherwise.” Madoka said with her airy giggle. She was referring to last match where Bakugou hugged you to shield you from the incoming balls, it was cute. He blushed and started to yell at her. You didn't say anything just laughed and started toward the exit.

“Where are you going!” Bakugou yelled to you, you paused and turned to him with a grin.

“To this great takeout place not far from here, they also have a small dine- in area, y’know for our date.” You said beginning to walk again.

“Like hell were doing that for our first date! Really is there not a single ounce of romance in you, you really are a shitty man. I’ll plan our damn date then.” He said catching up to you, grumbling the whole time.

~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

[marvelsimp]

THE NEW KID: Landing

THE NEW KID MASTERLIST Ch. 3

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Peter x Lesbian!reader (Platonic duh), Avengers & Reader Warnings: swearing, Description: Reader has just joined the Avengers so they decide to throw her a birthday party. Reader’s Powers: Healing, telepathy, and empath. Word Count: 2,737

“Peter! You got me into the avengers!” you scream whacking your best friend with a pillow.

“You’re welcome!” he laughs shielding his face from oncoming attacks.  You end up tackling him causing him to land on his bed. “Why are you attacking me? This is so RUDE!”

“HAHA! Too bad.”

“STOP. STOP” he laughs causing you to stop almost instantly. He sits up and looks at the clock, it reads ‘3:57’.  “How about we go back down to the game floor we can play some more laser tag or mess around with the VR stuff?”

“Sure but didn’t you say earlier that you wanted to show me the lab?”

“I forgot about that!” he stood up and reached his hand out to help you get up, you accept.  Peter leads you out of his room at Avenger’s Tower to go to the elevator then up to the lab.  “So, this is it!” he says taking you up some stairs.

The space is huge, where you just entered from is where the Quinjet lands, where the med lab is, and where the avengers keep their gear for missions.  As you walk up the stairs you see several platforms and ‘bridges.’  To your right you see a platform full of tools and stations cluttered with different projects.

“Most of its taken up by Mr. Stark,” Peter explains, “He’s constantly working on upgrading and improving all of our suits.”  He leads you towards the back of the area, “This is where I usually work.  I’m usually the one to work on my suit, especially during breaks. I’m trying to figure out a way to improve the capacity of my web-shooters.”

You nod, Pete lets you look at his formulas and blueprints. You give him a handful of suggestions and ask him a few questions. He listens intently to each suggestion and question.  He then has a quick ‘aha’ moment and writes a few things down for later.  You can’t believe that you now get to help him with this stuff in person.

“Oh,” he says suddenly. He points to an empty part of the lab next to him. “This is your station, you can put anything there and use any of the tools, under supervision.  Mr. Stark isn’t a big fan of us being up here without him or Dr. Banner but he made an exception for today.”

“Wait… slow down.”

Peter looks up at you, he’s slightly confused.

“I get to work up here, in the Avenger’s lab?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out. “What did you not understand about the part that you’re an Avenger now?”

“I don’t know… I guess that it just didn’t click.” You look around the space trying to figure out what you’ll do.  You then remember some of the old projects that you had to scrap because you didn’t the resources, you’ll probably have to start from scratch… wait your stuff is here. You let out a gasp and your eyes get a little wider. You almost run out to get your old blueprints but Peter grabs your wrists.

“Y/n, slow down.  Where are you going?”

“Sorry, I got ahead of myself.  I just remembered that I have my old blueprints still and that I can work on that stuff here.”

He smiles at you, he’s happy you can feel it off of him.  That was the first time since you got to New York that you had felt pure joy and he could feel it, too. His smile shrinks a little, “Like I said Mr. Stark doesn’t really like us up here without someone with us.” You nodded in understanding.

“Now let me actually take you to the med lab, I think that Dr. Cho will want to meet you.” He took you back down the stairs and opened the doors to the Med Lab.  Dr. Cho was sitting down busy at work looking through some papers and looking at something on the screen in front of her. “Dr. Cho.”

She looked up from her work and looked at Peter then at you.  Her eyes grew wide, “Oh, I completely forgot.” She stood up walking over to you and reaching her hand out.   You accepted it shaking her hand, “I’m Y/n.”

“Yes,” she smiled, “Stark told me about you and your powers. I’d love to do some testing later once you’re settled.”

“I’d love that too.  I’ve done a little bit of testing on my own, but I’d love to learn my limits.”

She nodded, she seemed excited. “I have to get back to my work now, but I will see you later.”

You and Peter exited the lab then went back down to the game floor as you had planned earlier.  You both walked down the hallway and entered the game room.  In one of the corners was Steve and Bucky, Bucky was hunched over on an old arcade version of Mortal Combat while Steve had his hand on the brunette’s back and he was laughing his ass off at the stern face of the “tinman.”  Steve almost instantly turned around when you and peter entered but he couldn’t stop his laughing quite as quickly.

You smiled and waved at them.  You turned to Peter, “What do you wanna play?”

“Smash Bros?”

“Minecraft?”

‘You always want to play Minecraft,” he whined.

‘And you always want to play Smash Bros!”

He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could.

“Fine!” you laughed

“Yes!” Peter quickly set up the game.

“FINISH HIM” you could hear from the old Mortal Combat Bucky was playing.

You took that as your cue, “Do you guys want to join us?”

Steve looked a little surprised, he turned to Bucky waiting for his answer. “Sure, how do you play?” he and Steve walked over and joined you and Peter on the large couch.

“It’s kind of like Mortal Combat.” You went on to explain the game and gave recommendations as to who they should pick.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after losing to the two super-soldiers who had never even played the game before today.

“Language,” Steve said nonchalantly.

“Sorry” you squeaked out.

Steve’s eyes widened realizing his mistake, he said it out of habit assuming it was Bucky who said it.  Bucky let out an earth-shattering laugh. While you were mortified that you had screamed ‘fuck’ in front of some of the Avengers not once but twice in one day. Once Bucky stopped laughing and caught his breath he turned to Peter, “Do you curse this much? I swear I’ve never even heard you say ‘crap.’”  He did, just not in front of the avengers.  Peter’s whole face had turned red causing Bucky to laugh again.

“Sorry, Y/n,” Steve said over Bucky’s continual laughing.

“What are you saying sorry for?”

“I thought it was Buck who said it so out of habit I said ‘language.’”

You smiled, “You don’t mind me-“

“Of course not.” Steve looked at his watch and then turned to Bucky who had finally stopped laughing, “Buck, maybe it’s time we head up.”

“It was nice playing with you guys,” you smiled.

“Yeah, we’ll have to do it again,” said Bucky.

“You’re an Avenger now, doll. Plenty of game nights.” Steve smiled walking out the door.

“Bye.”

Peter stood up. “Do yooou wanna play in VR?”

“Yes!”

“I know we’ve only been on this for half an hour but do you wanna grab some food?” Peter asked you.

“Umm, sure I could use some food.”

You and Peter walked back to the elevator taking it back up to the communal living space. As the elevator rose you felt the excitement rise not only in Peter but in some people on the floor you were headed to. When the doors opened it was darker than last time then you heard “SURPRISE” being shouted at you from all over the room and the lights turned back on. You jumped back a little then erupted into giggles. Directly in front of you were Ned, MJ, and May.  While the Avengers were spread around the room, which included some of those that weren’t at lunch.  There was a large banner on the wall that read “Happy 17th Birthday, Y/n!” There were streamers and balloons everywhere, along with some confetti that was spread along the ground. “Happy Birthday!” Ned, MJ, and May said in unison all grouping together for a group hug that caused you to giggle once more.

“Thank you.”

Peter grabbed your hand and led you over to a group of people near the dining table.  There was Pepper Potts with a little girl holding onto her hand, with a man, woman, and a teen girl that was maybe a year or two younger than you and Peter.  Pepper was the first to notice the two of you so she turned and smiled at you grabbing the others' attention.

“Hi,” you said looking back over the group.

“I’m Hope,” said the brunette woman reaching her hand out.

You recognized her but couldn’t remember how and as you shook her hand you let out a slight gasp, “Pym?”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

“Sorry, I’m way too invested into sciency things.”

The man next to her let out a chuckle, “I’m Scott.” He gently put his hand onto the teen next to him, “and this is my daughter Cassie.”

She smiled at you, “Hi.”

“Hi.” You were kinda confused as to who these people were, relating to the Avengers.

Peter whispered in your ear, “Think about it,” it was like he was the telepath.

After a second or two of staring at them, you let out, “Oh! You’re Wasp and Ant-man.” Neither one of them were known to the public as that but they were the only masculine and feminine pair, so it made sense. Hope let out a, “Yeah” while Scott just grinned impressed.  You finally turned to the woman you were very excited to meet, the CEO of Stark Industries.

“I’m Pepper,” she went for a hug that you accepted. Once you were released from the hug she put her hand on the shoulder of the little girl hiding behind her. “This is Morgan, Tony and I’s daughter.”

You kneeled to be at the girl’s eye level, “Hi, I’m Y/n.”

“Hi,” she said in the quietest voice possible.

You just smiled and stood back up. “It’s an honor to meet you all,” you said turning to each one in the small group, “I can’t believe that I’m even here.”

“Don’t worry,” Scott said, “We’re still getting used to it.” Hope nodded in agreement.

Thank god, that eased your anxieties a little. “Come on, Y/n. There are still more people you gotta meet.” He led you across the room where Tony and Colonel Rhodes, aka War Machine, were talking, Col. Rhodes seemed annoyed.  As you walked you passed Bruce, Sam, Bucky, and Steve who waved as you walked by.  Bruce stepped forward, “Hey, Y/n!”

You stopped and turned to him.

“Thor wanted to tell you sorry that he couldn’t make it, ya know family business. And he wanted me to tell you ‘Happy Birthday’ from him and Loki.” You smiled and laughed at the “and Loki” part. “Tell them ‘Thank you and that I understand. Oh, and that I wish him luck with his brother’”. Bruce chuckled at your response. He turned and returned to his group while you continued to follow Peter.

“Come on, Tony, another teenager,” you could barely hear Col. Rhodes say.

Tony just saw you two walking towards them, he pointed his head at you which caused Col. Rhodes’ demeanor to change almost instantly.

“Hey,” Tony said smirking at you and Peter, “How you feeling?”

“Uhh, I’m still in stock,” you laugh rubbing your neck.

“Don’t worry, kid, that will wear off.”

“I’m Rhodey by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I won’t be able to stay for long I was told about this morning. I wasn’t even told there was a possibility of a new Avenger until then either,” he looked annoyingly at Tony.

“Oh, I... don’t worry it’s an honor just meeting you guys.”

“Y/n,” yelled Wanda who was over in the kitchen.

“Well, that’s me,” you commented pointing your thumb towards the kitchen.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Yeah, Happy Birthday, kid.”

You and Peter headed to the kitchen.

“That was kinda tense,” whispered Peter in your ear.

You nod in agreement as you enter.  Wanda is standing next to the counter eating some chips with Nat and a man you recognize as Hawkeye.  But more importantly, you spot some brownies.  You quickly grab one, “Hey.” Wanda smiles and hugs you before you sit on one of the stools.

“Hey, Y/n/n, adjusted yet?” Nat joked.

“Nowhere close,” you breathe out.

Nat elbowed the man standing next to her. “I’m Clint.” He put a fist over the chip bowl.

You let out a chuckle and returned the fist bump.  “You’re Hawkeye, right?”

“Yeah,” he laughs at the codename.

You continue to eat the brownie and happily smile at your best friend.  He takes a seat next to you and spins your chair as you take the last bite of it. When you look up, there she is Captain Marvel with a gift bag in her hand.  You choke on the brownie spitting it out in your hand then throwing it away. Peter looks up in concern at you, you simply point at her and he erupts in laughter.  Nat, Clint, and Wanda were first concerned when you choked on your food but are now very confused.  You turn around away from the center of the room, putting your face in your hands.

“Y/n, you okay?” Wanda asks.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out.

Clint throws a chip at Peter, “Bug, explain.”

Peter calms down.  “Y/n has a hu-“ he corrects himself, “is a huge fan of Carol.”

Nat catches on instantly, the other two don’t but are accepting of the answer.

“Peter!” you say shoving him almost causing him to fall from his chair, but he holds on to the seat. “You’re a fucking psychopath,” you whisper angrily in his ear, “Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs looking behind you, so you turn around and to your surprise, Captain Marvel is right behind you.  You open your mouth opens but nothing comes out.

Y/n.exe has stopped working.

Reboot?

Rebooting.

Peter gives you a little shaking you a little. “Earth to Y/n,” he whispers in your ear.  Everyone, EVERYONE takes note of this. Some understanding your behavior instantly while others put it down as you just being a “big fan.”

“Hi,” you blush.

“Hi,” Captain Marvel smiles at you.

“I, um, I’m a, I’m Y/n,” you finally stutter out.

“I’m Carol,” she smirks.  You put your hand out for her to shake but instead of returning the handshake, she puts the gift bag she was holding into your hand.  “Peter told me you were a big fan, so I got you something.”

You smile and hit Peter for telling her. “Thank you,” you barely get out as she walks away.

“Hey!” you hear from across the room. “Since everyone’s met Y/n let’s sing happy birthday!” you finally recognize the voice to be Tony’s, “Head to the Dining table!”

You’re still standing there stunned, “Did that just happen?”

“Yes,” Peter says grabbing your arm, “Now let’s get some cake.”

Peter leads you to the Dining Table and then to a cupcake tower full of different types of cupcakes with a lit candle on top reading ‘17’. You take a deep breath to collect yourself.  You look around you and you’re overwhelmed with how much you can feel all of them caring for you even though you just met most of them today.  You wish your parents could see this… no you wish that your parents loved you enough where you wouldn’t even be in New York right now, but they don’t, and you have to live with that.  “Thank you, for all of this,” you say looking mostly at Peter but also at the others.  “Usually, I would spend my birthday with just my parents and this year I thought it would be Peter, May, MJ, Ned, and I.  But I never could’ve predicted to be with any of you much less as your new teammate.  I don’t know what else to do besides saying thank you.”

Next Chapter

Arrived

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #461

“this city looks so pretty, do you wanna burn it with me?”

Have you ever wanted a Nikon camera? Or do you have one already? My camera before the one I have now was a Nikon D3200. I use a Canon now. Who was the last person (if anyone) you said Happy Birthday to? A friend. Do you have Photoshop? If so, how often a day do you use it? I have it, but I barely use it nowadays. I use it to edit photos for character profiles or profile pictures, add a watermark for my actual photography, and I used to make Mark-oriented gifs like crazy. They mostly did really well, so... I might wanna get back into that and get That Sweet Validation. Do you watch any shows that you know your parents wouldn’t approve of? No. Have any of your exes gotten married or had kids since your breakup? None, I think. Do either of your parents have a mental illness? My mom has depression. Can you tolerate children for a long period of time? NO. Have you ever lived with someone you felt thoroughly uncomfortable around? No. Are you into dubstep? Yeah, I tend to enjoy it. Zelda or The Sims games? Can I pick neither? lol I don't feel very much at all for The Sims, and Zelda games have always looked... boring to me? Like I've watched most of the Game Grumps' playthroughs of all the games, and they make it hilarious of course, but the games themselves? Nah. Are you terrible at assigning bands their proper genre? YES YES YES YES YES YES. Even in my preferred category, that being metal, FUCK if I know the sub-genre. Have you ever made out in a closet? No, that shit sounds claustrophobic as hell. Have you ever been to a laser tag place? Yeah, on a triple-date once! It was SO fun. How do you wanna celebrate your next birthday? Have a couple friends over, pig out at The Cheesecake Factory. o3o Do you tease your parents about them being old? No, especially not Mom. She's self-conscious about getting older. Are you in love with someone? "In love" is a bit too far, buddy. But I love someone. Have you ever ridden a unicycle? No. Have you ever wanted a pet bunny? I was VERY serious about getting a lop-eared bunny for quite a while, but we just couldn't afford to adopt one (even off Craigslist) and get a cage for it, toys, etc. Are the bottom of your feet clean? I HATE seeing the bottom of my feet. Not because they're dirty, but because it's Callus City. I ain't even fuckin jokin'. Do you like really salty food? Yeah. :x When’s the last time you bled a lot? Well, I just recently finished my cycle after not menstruating for three or four MONTHS, so you can figure that one out. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah. I like to know exactly when it's coming. Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo? Yes to both. When you’re done eating finger foods, do you usually lick your fingers? Usually kasdjlf;kalsdjf shut up ok I like food. What’s the most racist thing you have ever said? As a little kid, when my really good friend (a neighborhood kid, even) asked if he thought we'd be a good couple, I told him no because "blacks and whites don't date" or something like that. It was an idea I'd never been exposed to before; the idea was so foreign to little kid me. I had no idea I was being racist. It ended in a small fight and we didn't talk for a few days 'til he came to my house telling Mom that he had to "be a man" and fix this and if that ain't the cUTEST SHIT RIGHT THERE. We were friends again after that. He's still on my Facebook, and he actually semi-recently got married! :') Do you know someone that is mute, deaf or blind? No. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? Successful and happy she kept pushing. Mama to so many reptiles that are blessed with the best lives possible in human care. Got at least one amazing book out there. If she's reading this, you've fucking got this. <3 Would you like to have twins? Mother of fucking god, no. Even if I WANTED kids, do fucking not give me twins. Who was the last person you got into an argument with? My mom. Want to have kids before you’re 30? Once again, I don't want kids, but IF I did, that'd be preferable before the risk of birth defects and other issues climb with age. Does anybody have a tattoo with your name on it? My older sister has my initial. Do you think somebody’s in love with you? No. Do you think you and your best friend will be friends in ten years? Yes, I genuinely do. Who were the last people to hang out at your house? Miss Tobey, our friend and landlord. Does anyone like you? Welp... I hope he still does. Guess we'll figure that out soon. What person on your Facebook do you talk to the most? VIA Facebook? Probably my friend Lyndsey. She likes to comment on stuff I share. Do you want to fall in love? I do, but I'm also utterly horrified to and risk being hurt again. Are you interested in more than one person at the moment? No. Once I realized I was so deeply into Girt, all other romantic feelings kinda just... poofed. How was your last break up? Civil and done with both of our best interests in mind. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to say? Probably the first time I admitted I needed to go to the hospital for suicidal thoughts. I was so, so scared of what it was going to be like. What is the hardest thing you NEEDED to hear? That if Jason wasn't happy with me, he had every right to move on. She was right. Do you treat yourself well? No... but I'm trying to change that. What was the last song you sang out loud to? This "Set Fire to the Rain" cover. Do you take good pictures? I think I do? Have you ever done any internship? No. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? Holy shit, so much, especially when it comes to morality and political stances. I am now a massive supporter and member of the LGBTQ+ community, I'm pro-trans rights, pro-choice... I've done like a dozen 180s in a lot of topics. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? I mean, some doctors, but no one in my truly personal life. Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Yes: my cousin. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? LAKSDJFKLA;JWD NEVER AND I PRAY TO THE HOLY LORD THAT I NEVER DO. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not massively? Like literally everyone gets them and is natural and inevitable. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? I know one alcoholic, and one that's probably borderline. I also have two friends who are extremely addicted to weed. Look me in the eyes and say it's not an addictive substance and I wouldn't believe you one bit. Is there a video or computer game that you can get lost in for hours? Eh, sometimes World of Warcraft. Some days I'm really into it, and others I barely touch it. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have no clue. I don't even remember movies that were made *for* Disney exclusively. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. We have a friend from the dance studio mow the lawn. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? My iPod has a whole live album of Ozzy. Did you or do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Both did and do. Britney is a boss bitch. Does your favorite band have a male or female lead singer? Male. Have you seen the movie Moulin Rouge? No, but I've seen some of that P!nk music video of the song and it brings out the Gay in me. Do you have a key to anything besides your house? No. Could you ever complete a 500-piece puzzle? I've done that before. I miss doing puzzles... Have you ever been to any sort of convention? I went to a reptile expo with Sara!! I REALLY want to go to another when my legs are stronger and can handle standing and walking so much. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom. Have you ever tried to walk on a moving vehicle and fallen over? No????? What is your favourite kind of bread? Is there any of that in your house? Pumpernickel. No. Are/were you in the school band, and if so, what instrument did you play? I played the flute all through middle school and I wanna say half of HS. Have you ever ordered an unusual drink at a bar? Never even been to one. Have you ever been pulled aside by security at the airport? I think once for some reason I don't recall? What is your favourite seasonal candy? (only available at certain times) Gingerbread men, probs. Or chocolate bunnies!!! :') How do you feel right now? My stomach is KILLING me. I'm super excited though that Girt is coming over tomorrow. Have you ever had surgery that kept you in the hospital for over a day? No. What would you like your generation to change? How we treat nature. Is there anyone that you truly could not live without? No. I learned that is a very unhealthy mentality to have. Do you like carrots more if they’re raw, or cooked? I just hate carrots. What restaurant did you last go out to dinner at with friends? With friends? I couldn't even guess. Does your refrigerator have an ice maker or do you use ice cube trays? It has an ice maker. Do you have a favorite sibling, if any? No; I love them all. Do you have a favorite brand of clothing? I STAN CLOAK. How’s the love life? Something new might start tomorrow. I think it will. Do you watch the news? No; that shit is depressing. Who do you admire most? Mark. Do you have a favorite album? Black Rain by Ozzy Osbourne takes the cake and always will.

[altumvidetur]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs (MatsuHana)

Fic Recs Masterpost

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to split it in a series of posts, starting with my OTPs. So here we go with some MatsuHana!

rated m for, by orphan_account

He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

of weather, of leisurely tensions, by b_minor

Two boys share an umbrella.

Don’t Lie, Bright Eyes, by tookumade

“Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”

It’s nearly one in the morning and Matsukawa, tucked up comfortably in bed next to Hanamaki, is on the verge of drifting off into blissful sleep when the question stirs him.

“Why are you trying to give me a late-night existential crisis?” he mumbles.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - leaving home)

Roses, by h_lovely

(Summary by me: slow burn, friends to lovers, things are kinky, I’m pretty sure this is the best MatsuHana I’ve ever read.)

You’re in Pink (and I’m in blue), by Hyeyu

Takahiro held his gaze a few seconds in silence before he sighed. "...It's only been a week, okay? S'not serious yet."

“Not serious yet?” Something jumped in Matsukawa’s jaw and he abruptly released Takahiro’s hand, sending the petals cascading to the ground. Takahiro was going to have to clean them up before the others started streaming into the clubroom, and wouldn’t that be fun. “You’re coughing up fucking flowers, Hanamaki.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

-

Hanamaki Takahiro has 99 problems and Hanahaki flowers make up 98 of them.

Good Bad Ideas, by tookumade

When Oikawa asks his friends to help out at his nephew’s birthday party, they get a little more than they bargained for.

(written for Haikyuu!! Rarepair Week - Day 1 - beginnings, celebration)

texting (with a capital S), by parenthetic

Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

Wet Your Whistle, by darkmagicalgirl

Hanamaki gets a job as a bartender. Matsukawa likes his uniform. (Alternatively: Matsukawa tries to ignore his huge crush on his friend-with-benefits. He fails.)

[obnoxious clucking noises], by parenthetic

On the last night of their last training camp together, Oikawa has a bad idea, Hanamaki goes along with it, Iwaizumi sort of wishes he had better friends, and Matsukawa proves himself to be particularly adept at intimidation tactics.

Love Doesn’t Come with an Instruction Manual, by plumtrees

Seijou 3rd years (now college freshmen) go to ToyCon. Oikawa has a spaz attack over Star Wars, Iwaizumi is his designated babysitter, Hanamaki is adorable, and Matsukawa doesn't know how to deal.

Here Today And There Tomorrow, by tookumade

A first meeting on opposite sides of the volleyball net, and chance meetings afterwards without it.

A Ring of Cream, by plumtrees

Hanamaki has never been one for grand romantic gestures, has never been one for romantic gestures at all, but Matsukawa's a stubborn guy.

Who can't bake for shit.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa (mostly Iwaizumi, really) to the rescue.

Morning Glory, by darkmagicalgirl

On their days off, Hanamaki and Matsukawa's mornings follow a sort of routine.

Even Though It All Went Wrong, by plumtrees

It hadn’t always been so cold. Matsukawa remembers a time where the sun shone high, its rays bright and its heat pleasant like a blanket against his skin. He remembers Hanamaki holding his hand, remembers his cheeks hurting because he’d been grinning so much. Hanamaki had opened his arms wide, and Matsukawa ran straight for them, like he’d been magnetized. He picked up Hanamaki easily and twirled them around, danced with him until they both tumbled along the grass, laughing like idiots.

He remembers because it’s all he can do now.

Crescendo, by plumtrees

Day 1 for MatsuHana Week: Online

-

The voice continues to feed him instructions, the deep rumbling purrs reverberating across his body, each hiss and click of a consonant like a sharp bite, each roll of his tongue a slide of silk against his overheating skin.

Fuck, he loves it.

Somewhat Well-Kept Secrets, by tookumade

“Why don’t they just… date already?” said Iwaizumi.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 2 - cream puffs, in the background)

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, by plumtrees

Day 3 of MatsuHana Week: Tattoos and Flower Shops

-

Hanamaki, cheeks as pink as his hair, says, "I was drunk."

"Okay?" Matsukawa prompts.

"And it's way too expensive to laser something this big."

Holy shit. "Okay?"

"Look, can't we just go with 'I made horrible life decisions in college that are now coming back to haunt me' and move on?"

morning, noon, night, by b_minor

A day in the life of two losers in love.

on the anatomy of crushes, by carafin

A part-by-part dissection of their relationship. Medical school AU.

-

‘See you tomorrow?’ Hanamaki asks. He’s still smiling faintly, still carrying about his usual air of quiet self-assurance, but there’s no mistaking the hopefulness in his voice. ‘On the bus, I mean.’

‘Yeah,’ Matsukawa says, and tries not to make it sound too much like a promise. ‘See you tomorrow.’

(Falling in love is really, ridiculously easy.)

Dating Is Not A Nine-To-Five, by tookumade

“What if,” said Hanamaki in a whisper, “we walk in and there’s a yakuza member getting his tattoos done, and he tries to kill us because we saw his face?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - tattoos and flower shops, coffee shop)

To Fit Myself In The Spaces Between, by tookumade

It's late, a boring movie is on TV, and the remote control is nowhere in sight—and that suited them just fine.

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - midnight, no control)

It’s not even close to your birthday, by squidmemesinc

The shoes look like they could be some kind of gothic lolita item, with thick, tall heels and Mary Jane straps that have little silver hearts on them. The socks are simple except that they run all the way up to his mid-thigh; the crisp white makes enough of a contrast with his skin that the colors flatter each other, rather than subdue them. Then there's the dress. It's just plain black, short and slim, though the skirt flares out at the waist. Takahiro's eyes run up it, stalling where it cuts off around the shoulders and has a wide boat neck trim with a thick ivory collar. The final piece is a simple pink ribbon—not even a necklace, just a ribbon—tied around his neck with the bow in the back.

Where Was I, When The Rockets Came To Life, by tookumade

In a city like this, there wasn’t much of a chance that they would meet again, and given Hanamaki’s current career of choice, if they did, then it was more than likely to be because of a cruel joke set up by fate. He was not about to let his heart be broken now. He had more important things to think about…

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 5 - glasses, piercing)

not like the movies, by bravely

“Here,” he says, offering the thumb back to Hanamaki. Absentmindedly, Hanamaki licks it back off. “Thanks.”

Then he blinks.

“Wait,” he says. “Shit, wait. Was that supposed to be romantic just then?”

“ — Well.” Matsukawa clears his throat. “You tell me, I guess?”

No One Else Like You, by auber_jean

"It’s not at all liberating to finally have it said out loud, because it makes it all that more real, and Matsukawa was doing really well pretending that he wasn’t in love with his best friend."

With the turn of graduation, Matsukawa finds himself choosing between a future that he has planned or something more.

live it up, drink it in, by puny

Hanamaki's not a detective, just a wing spiker with a hangover, but he's gonna figure out who gave him all these hickeys if it damn well kills him.

Begin, by Karasuno Volleygays

It's the last day of their high school years and the first day of the rest of their lives. As they spend the night under a blanket of stars, they can't help but wonder where will they go from here?

Playing Doubles, by squidmemesinc

“We always said we were going to fuck at every possible time of day,” Takahiro says, rolling his hips gently over Issei’s.

“I do remember saying that once. Do you have the calendar on hand?”

Captured Light, by plumtrees

“The smile you’re wearing in this photo,” Hanamaki continued, just a little bit sad, “you haven’t smiled like that in a long time.”

Matsukawa looked at the photo again. It was awkward; it always was, seeing himself through Hanamaki’s lens. He’d never really focused on himself whenever he looked at the photos Hanamaki took of him, but now his eyes actively trailed over his face, the crinkle of his eyes, the twinkle in them from the light reflecting off of his cellphone, the smile wide enough to show an entire row of teeth.

He tried to emulate the expression, only to realize how foreign it felt on his face.

-

A love story like most love stories, stuck between busy days and too little time spent together.

Matsukawa learns to take it easy, and Hanamaki is his teacher.

Marks, by Andramion

The room is quiet when Issei gathers the pillows under his arms and lies down. He presses his nose into his shoulder, closes his eyes and focusses on the barely-there touch of fingertips to his skin.

Hanamaki always does this, every single time.

Sure, by kiyala

Beginning university brings a lot of changes with it. As Iwaizumi and Oikawa deal with going to different universities, Hanamaki thinks about his own relationship with Matsukawa.

nebulas, by tothemoon

“You'll have to let me think about it,” Hanamaki says to him while they're looking at soup stocks in the supermarket one evening, because he knows being with someone is not as simple as he'd like it to be.

(At this, Matsukawa does not fret. He goes for the snack aisle, instead.)

Settled, by kiyala

Hanamaki and Matsukawa go for a walk in their hometown in the middle of the night, and reflect on the things that have changed since high school.

Staking a Claim, by iwaizumemes

"Do you think they can tell?"

"Tell what?"

"That we've fucked in all their bedrooms."

something of a disaster, by latenights

“This is the part where you make a wish and blow.”

“Now, let’s not get too hasty—“

“I meant the candles you bastard.”

that’s you get (for waking up in vegas), by skittidyne

“There was an Elvis?” Hajime asks.

“He was the officiator. It’s the cliché, right?”

“…Officiator of what?” Tooru asks with a look down at Takahiro’s hand.

“You can borrow my phone to pull pictures from for our wedding album.” Issei reaches over and grasps the hand with the ring on it. Everyone is staring at their clasped hands like a three-headed lobster just crawled onto the table. “You were both the best men and I was very, deeply touched by how affected you both were at the ceremony,” he says in a perfect deadpan.

(( or: iwaizumi does not want to be the responsible one, and thus they suffer the consequences, or, perhaps, 'suffer' is a bit too strong of a word ))

Wilds, by AngryKitten

Makki waded back to him, two handfuls of stones dripping lake-water. He was grinning, like he always did, like their lives were one great joke that Matsukawa only occasionally understood. Hanamaki tipped his hand, and the rocks tumbled out into the bottom of their canoe.

“For later,” Hanamaki said.

Parting Words, by kiyala

Matsukawa confesses his feelings for Hanamaki at graduation, knowing that they're unrequited. Hanamaki's not so sure about that.

we could be the greatest team, by anyadisee

Oikawa mock-gasps. “Makki! You should know that I was genuinely planning on talking about strategy! I just thought it would be polite to wait for Iwa-chan and Mattsun to get back. But since you brought the topic up”—Hanamaki opens his mouth to protest, but is ignored—“have I told you how amazing Iwa-chan is? Like, he’s just the best boyfriend ever.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed what with, you know, how much you’ve been talking about it,” Hanamaki deadpans.

Oikawa waves a hand airily. “Don’t be jealous that my boyfriend is so sweet and romantic.”

Now it’s Hanamaki’s turn to raise eyebrows. “Excuse me, but did you just indirectly drag Issei?"

[in which hanamaki and oikawa get competitive, matsukawa and iwaizumi are good boyfriends, and the rest of seijoh somehow get involved.]

chocolate, by tellalie

“We have to do something,” Mattsun says.

Tides That Bind, by rubyfiamma

Matsuhana Fluff via prompt #19. Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

Room to Talk, by holdontoyourhulahoops

In which one snarky comment from Yahaba makes Hanamaki realize he's been a dirty hypocrite all this time.

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City, by AngryKitten

“Okay this is going to sound weird, and I get it if you want to say no, but I know a good place to cry and it’s only like a block from here. If you need to, um, let that out or something.”

Matsukawa gets hit on while crying in public and it might be the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Or it might be the best.

plus one, by orphan_account

"Did you know we're dating?"

"What? Says who?"

"Says everyone apparently."

"Oh," Hanamaki frowns for a few seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate fountain. "Nice."

Making Sense, by kiyala

Sharing an apartment does very little to help Hanamaki deal with his feelings for Matsukawa. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing.

and indeed there will be time, by plumtrees

Between volleyball and the looming end of their high school years, Hanamaki thinks he’s already dealing with more than enough, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, no one else gets the memo.

-

Alternatively: “I am not in love with my best friend!” says Hanamaki Takahiro. Nobody buys his bullshit.

snakes, meth labs and something like love, by orphan_account

"Did you know snakes can give birth to between ten and 150 babies at any one time?"

Matsukawa tenses. "And how many have you, um— How many have you found?"

"Four," Hanamaki sighs, voice shaking slightly with what sounds like pure, unadulterated defeat. "So far."

Flamingo, by JanaRumpandRCJawnn

Summary by me: series with Trans!Makki, dealing with transphobia, and a nice lovely characterization of Ushijima.

it’s cold out there, by bishounen_curious

Seijoh's parties are always a mess, but this one takes the cake.

he’s a looker but i really think it’s guts that matter most, by respectableflourish

His fellow first year loves volleyball, has a chill factor verging on glacial, partakes in the type of verbal repartee Takahiro has only ever dreamt of finding in another person, and just so happens to exhibit an eyebrow and eyeliner game that is on another fucking level.

my heart beats for contract law, by orphan_account

"You had an emotional breakdown in a McDonalds drive-through."

"Mmm."

"And proposed to me."

"Shhh."

"In a McDonalds drive-through, Hiro."

Takahiro huffs out a nervous laugh, keeping his eyes closed. "You love it," he repeats, nuzzling closer.

services i can provide, by commovente

“So, what’s this?” Matsukawa asks. “An apology?”

Hanamaki drawls the words out, but he’s rambling. “I mean, I was actually going for a bribe, but. You know what, Mattsun? I’m nothing if not adaptable, so. Yes. Consider this an apology.”

it’s easy being with you, sacred simplicity, by earlgrey_milktea

a conversation at half past three.

poolside, by tothemoon

At eighteen, it'd been a matter of wading.

At twenty-five, Hanamaki tries not to fall in headfirst.

need a little sweetness in my life, by orphan_account

The smell of freshly baked bread, watching his cakes rise, listening to customers endlessly praise his desserts? All that is great but, Matsukawa thinks as he shuffles closer to the counter to greet him, the best thing about his job is the man standing in front of him.

And he doesn’t even know his name.

Lemonade, by carriecmoney

“Seriously, after Oikawa’s Oikawaness, Iwaizumi with the shoulders and the intensity and the caring about people shit and you with…” Takahiro gestures at Matsukawa’s everything. “That. What am I?”

Sing For Me, by rideahorse

The first time he hears Matsukawa singing, it’s in the shower, post-practice, when Matsukawa is likely positive no one’s around to hear it. Takahiro doesn’t even know what to think at first; Matsukawa sings just as he talks, voice a low timbre, barely changing pitch as it navigates through some melody that is so familiar yet unreachable in Takahiro’s mind. It’s English, too, so Takahiro wouldn’t understand it anyways, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that the locker room suddenly feels ten times hotter and Takahiro feels like he might melt into a puddle of very gay and very confused sludge.

Realisations, by kiyala

In which Hanamaki realises that Matsukawa is a werewolf, and has a few other realisations while he's at it.

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal, by plumtrees

Hanamaki Takahiro loved Matsukawa Issei. Sometimes. Mostly. When he wasn’t being bull-headed or overly-difficult. Which wasn’t a lot of the time now that Hanamaki thought about it. Shit. But he digressed.

Demon-mating was a for life kind of deal. Certainly not a decision one could make out of the blue, without years of prior thought and much meditation. The day he asked for his mother’s blessing, the day he planned to ask Matsukawa to be his mate, she had told him If you’re sure you’ll be happy with him, then all I hope for is that he says yes and by some miracle he did and here they are now and Hanamaki could say with all the certainty in the world that he loved Matsukawa Issei with all his heart and soul(s).

But some days…dear gods, some days…some days he just made it really, really difficult.

-

Or: Matsukawa accidentally turns Kindaichi and Kunimi into babies and guess who has to help him clean up his fucking mess.

Pink and Yellow, by hotcocoa

Hanamaki is beautiful, Matsukawa is supportive, and both of them are the luckiest boyfriends in the world.

hang out fall in love, by carafin

In which Hanamaki's humble medical practice is threatened by an intractable asshole a witch doctor who's just moved into the shop down the street. Medical/Witchcraft AU.

-

As far as Hanamaki’s concerned, and as far as bad life decisions go, setting up your witch clinic right next to an actual, proper, medical clinic is practically akin to setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet right next to a gym. Or a sex toy shop next to a church. Or a vegetable patch next to a goat farm. Or – yeah, the point is, this Matsukawa guy has totally cornered the market in Terrible-Life-Decision-Making-Skills.

Baby It’s Cold Outside, by dancingwithwings

Matsukawa looks round. And – heaven help him – he’s greeted with the guy from a couple of apartments down, the guy who dyes his hair to look like a strawberry for reasons unbeknownst, looking so disgruntled, so bedraggled, so akin to a drowning cat, that it almost makes him laugh out loud. The guy is barefoot, wearing only a towel. And the look on his face might turn Matsukawa to stone.

In which the fire alarm goes off, Hanamaki is in a towel, and Mattsun just really needs to study.

Zenith, Nadir, by tookumade

A former god realises that it's time to say goodbye.

Parallel Lines, by orphan_account

Yesterday night, Matsukawa had told his parents that he was joining math club, which lead to several confused smiles from them as they tried to figure out his change of heart.

“Didn’t you say you were allergic to competitive math?” His mom had asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re very supportive of your decision, but-”

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, they’d let it go because no sane parent prevents their child from joining math team, which is intellectually beneficial and looks very nice on college applications. This, in turn, prevents Matsukawa from having to explain that he’s joining- dear god- because of a crush.

this isn’t exactly how i thought i’d spend my adult years, by jadedpearl

When Hanamaki coughs–hacks–the guy, who's been near comatose this entire time, opens his eyes and looks over a little, seemingly with the least amount of effort possible. "Bless you," he says, but his eyes are still sleepy. Hanamaki turns his head and stares at him. "I didn't sneeze." The guy looks a bit surprised. "What?" "I coughed." "So?" "Who the fuck says bless you when someone coughs?"

The Courage of Stars, by FairyLights101

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Then again, not many things were.

sugar pink liquor, liquor lips, by h_lovely

His lips still taste like sugar and liquor; they’re rosy and plush as they fit softly against Matsukawa’s own.

What would you do (if I told you that I la, la, la, loved you?), by Frenchibi

5 IwaOi moments as seen by Hanamaki and Matsukawa ... +1 moment of revenge :'D

Shoulda Known, by fxvixen

He quickly composes his face to look concerned. “What’s the matter there, sport?”

The groan cuts off.

Hanamaki lifts his head, a few strands of hair flopping onto his forehead. He narrows his eyes at Matsukawa’s attempt of a poker face. “Never call me that again.”

~or~

matsuhana feels and cuddles

Time and Distance, by kiyala

Matsukawa is attending university in Kyoto. Hanamaki comes to visit.

Kaleidoscope, by tookumade

Fall in love in five cities.

press play, by airblends

“Makki, you want in on our intro?” Oikawa gestures with his hand.

“Nah, I already promised Issei we’d do one for his channel. There are only so many intros a man can film in a day.”

“Issei, huh?” Oikawa’s lips settle into a knowing smirk. Iwaizumi coughs into his fist, gently prying the camera from Oikawa’s hands to turn it off.

Hanamaki’s face burns up, his cheeks a fiery red. “We’re just friends,” he says, the phrase rolling off his tongue by sheer reflex. He has lost count of how many times he’s typed it into the comment section beneath his videos. At this point he might just start to believe it himself.

New Ground, by kiyala

About new cities and new relationships.

Trusting Things Beyond Mistake, by twinkrevali

"‘I–’ Hanamaki starts, then stops, turning to face the lake and frowning as the words fail to reach him.

Matsukawa pushes himself up to look at Hanamaki properly, hands resting in his lap.

‘You,’ he prompts, and Hanamaki looks at him, eyes shining.

This must be, he thinks, what they call a moment of clarity."

Would You Rather, by jadedpearl

“Y’know,” Hanamaki says, stretching his arms above his head, “I don’t even get why Oikawa is the popular one. If this was an anime, I’d be the main character.”

The setting sun burns his edges gold, alights the sharp planes of his face. Matsukawa looks away, faces forward, towards the houses that wind out of sight.

“What makes you say that?” he replies easily, because things have always been just that, with Hanamaki.

too scared to say (that i want you), by urieskooki

"How could he not hate me if he knew?"

Falling in love with your best friend sucks.

one-way ticket, by noyabeans

post-chapter 258.

-

in an alternate universe, they would be the ones on that screen, feet solidly planted on the smooth ground of the tokyo gym and the smell of air salonpas around them.

take my hand, take my whole life, too, by earlgrey_milktea

matsukawa and hanamaki, a few years down the road, and years to go, together.

all our stolen moments (i’d spend forever with you), by earlgrey_milktea

quiet moments between matsukawa and hanamaki.

it's all worth it, in the end.

Switched Jerseys, by chromyrose

After practice on an afternoon shortly before the Spring High tournament begins, they’re the last two people changing in the club room. The weather is starting to turn for the colder, and Hanamaki sighs when the cool air touches his heated skin after he takes his jersey off. He feels a warm hand on his back, and looks over his shoulder...

oh we’re fading fast / i miss missing you now and then, by earlgrey_milktea

It’s strange, missing someone. You find them in every thing you do, and you think you want them back, but you don’t. Not really. Not now, not like this.

-

issei and the quiet that hanamaki left behind.

i thought i could tame these memories to keep me company like a housecat, by earlgrey_milktea

So he stayed here, in a house that hasn’t been a home in a long time, with a cat that keeps looking out the window as if waiting for someone that isn’t coming home.

-

takahiro and the empty house and lonely cat that issei left behind.

those days are dead and gone (but we’re still here), by kythen

They're graduating today and Hanamaki doesn't want to get out of bed.

stranger things, by tinypersonhotel

In 2012, the men’s national volleyball team took home the bronze at the Asian Cup. Tokyo Skytree opened to the public. Also, the dashing Hanamaki Takahiro and painfully cool Matsukawa Issei started a radio show out of Aoba Johsai’s abandoned A/V room and accidentally became the two most popular guys in school.

Daily Password: [ ], by tookumade

“Neko Atsume?” Hanamaki says sleepily when he recognises the song coming from his phone. He opens his eyes with a mystified smile. “You’re still playing?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 1 - music)

tell them i love you, by tookumade

“Are you two serious about it, though?” Oikawa says dubiously after training when they’re leaving the clubroom together. “Could you seriously tell each other ‘I love you’?”

“Of course we’re serious!” protests Matsukawa at the same time Hanamaki says, “Of course we can!”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - romantic gesture)

like a river, by astersandstuffs

“Is that a confession? Are you actually confessing to me right now?”

“Hm. Yeah.”

-

Or, they still have a lot to learn (and maybe that's the thing about being together).

Baby(sitting), Maybe, by tookumade

“One day,” says Hanamaki, “we’ll look back on this and laugh.”

“Mm-hm,” Matsukawa hums.

“It’ll be a cute little story. We’ll tell our friends, and they’ll laugh along with us. They might even be sympathetic.”

“Mmmm…”

“You’re absolutely right, sympathetic is reaching way too far.”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 6 - children, bonds)

Matsuhana Week 2017, by h_lovely

Day 1: music//relationship goals Day 2: competition//petty Day 3: romantic gesture//fairy tale Day 4: in danger//leaving home Day 5: food//science Day 6: children//bonds Day 7: on video//surprises

A God for Every Season, by timkons

Mortals have all kinds of foolish tales, like how Hades and Persephone's annual reunion causes the seasons. Matsukawa knows better.

Habenaria Radiata, by tookumade

Hanamaki turns onto his side so that they’re facing each other, and his smile is warm; Matsukawa feels his heart skip a beat, as it always does whenever this happens, and he wonders when he’ll ever get used to it, when it’ll become normal enough that he doesn’t get butterflies in his stomach every time Hanamaki smiles at him.

(Probably never, if he’s being honest with himself. He is content with this.)

take my heart and put it in your pocket, by Frenchibi

Issei blinks. “I ain’t drinkin’ any of your froofy Christmas Latte thingies.” “Orange Caramel Mocha.” “What?” “Vanilla Chai Latte.” “Ew.” “Cinnamon Hot Chocolate.” Issei rolls his eyes, resigned. “Fine. That doesn’t sound too awful.”

Remind Me, by tookumade

For Hanamaki and Matsukawa, their first meeting consists of a small accident, a terrible first impression, and the start of something new—maybe something better.

(In which they learn to keep trying, and to try again.)

like twinkling lights and the warmth of your hand, by earlgrey_milktea

mattsun and makki go on an impromptu date.

in a daze, by wyverning

The sound of a camera shutter goes off, and Issei lazily cracks open an eye to see Hanamaki grinning down at him, phone held loosely in one hand.

“That was the best Kunimi impression I’ve ever seen,” he says by way of explanation.

Clueless, by Elleh

If anyone had asked Issei how he’d thought his night would end, he’d have never said: catching my best friend moaning my name while fucking himself.

There’s an odd second, between Issei entering their room and sliding the door of the bedroom open, in which Issei is still oblivious. Skin prickling, a sudden dryness in his mouth, but oblivious. He’s taking his shoes off when the first moan catches him.

He stills right on the spot, a shoe hanging from his finger, the other hand half-way to opening the bedroom. Issei swallows, images of Hanamaki with a girl from the hotel, that’s why he didn’t want to come with us drink, the bitter taste that realisation leaves behind. Issei shouldn’t care Hanamaki’s having sex with someone, but the sourness turns into rage—and maybe disappointment. He’s gonna have a serious conversation about boundaries and, you know, could you let me know in advance, so I find—

“Issei… Mmmh, fuck.”

IOU, by Karasuno Volleygays

Matsukawa Issei goes in for a tattoo and ends up with an interesting new friend in Hanamaki Takahiro. Soon his visits to his tattoo artist's studio in the back of a restaurant become a highlight of his days, and that's before feelings start to wriggle their way into the picture.

take a screenshot, it’ll last longer, by h_lovely

It’s all fun and games until someone pops a boner in a staff meeting.

lapsus linguae, by astersandstuffs

“I’m literally your best friend,” Matsukawa says.

Takahiro pauses. “Shit. You’re right.”

Reflex, by hiuythn

Nobody likes to talk about how Hanamaki and Matsukawa met, which is a shame, because they both think it's the funniest fucking thing to ever happen to either of them.

my way home, by tookumade

Matsukawa has been sitting at their freshly-placed dining table and staring at his copy of their new apartment keys for at least an hour.

(Hanamaki checks his watch. Okay, five minutes; same thing.)

first light, by tookumade

Iwaizumi and Oikawa immediately break out into booing and gagging noises, because as much as they both think themselves mature and reasonable people, they are honestly idiots. Matsukawa just grins and takes a sip of his own beer, pleased, but Hanamaki is frozen, eyes wide and a blush creeping across his face in a way that had nothing to do with the beer.

Tactical Retreat, by Karasuno Volleygays

After years of getting their asses handed to them by the seemingly psychic Iwaoi bond, Issei and Takahiro opt to spend the rest of their paintballing trip engaged in other activities.

Mirror Flower, Water Moon, by h_lovely

Matsukawa’s gaze lingers on Hanamaki. He’s talking about something, ranting on and Matsukawa isn’t sure about what at this point. He should be listening really, how rude of him. But spring has just sprung and the little pink petals dotting the sidewalk match so pleasantly with the strawberry shade of Hanamaki’s short-clipped hair.

(Or, a study on timing and how to get it right.)

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream, by h_lovely

After class, Matsukawa finds Hanamaki in the tall cushy grass by the lake.

[dreamonminecraft]

oh yes, tell me more about this beautiful lesbian slowburn. I’m a sucker for a good love story

Okay so to start off, My sexuality fluctuates greatly throughout this story, but as of now I identify as a Bisexual lithsexual lesbian, which means that I am attracted to lots of people but lose attraction when the feelings are reciprocated, and I'll only date girls.

The story starts off August of 2018. I was starting 6th grade (middle school) and didn't really have any friends aside from a few people that I had last talked to in 3rd grade.

It's important to know that I'm a GT kid and so I almost always have the same group of about 20 kids. This started when I changed to an all GT class for 4th grade.

While it's nice to have a comfortable learning environment, it also means that there's no escape from any drama, and you get to pick friends from the very small pool of kids that you'll spend the rest of your education with.

This is a pretty long story as well and I'm not sure I'll be able to accurately retell many of the things because dates get mixed up and stuff. Anyway, I'm gonna try my best to explain but these are really only the things from my point of view and I don't remember a lot of the things. (This is also gonna be written like a fanfic because that's all I know how to write, I apologise)

So start of sixth grade, I don't really have any friends, I'm kind of this awkward nerd, there's 2 people in my class (we switch classes like normal middle school, but I'm with the GT kids for most of the day so that's what I'll refer to them as) that I've known for years, a few I've met before, but mostly new people.

I sit by some old friends from volleyball at lunch for the first few days but begin to feel unwelcome. One day I decide to sit by these two people that I know are in GT but haven't talked to before. I don't say anything, but I sit and they don't mind.

The next day we get new seats in English. I'm behind a boy named Owen, Inara, who is one of the girls I sat with at lunch, is to my right, and in front of her is a girl named Emilyse.

Inara and I hit it off immediately.

It's kind of crazy because we're both crazy anxious introverts, but we gel nicely. I'm a boyband-obsessed 11 year old and she's a mature and mysterious 11 year old.

She's a lefty. I'm a righty. The way we've been placed makes us bump arms everytime we try to write anything.

We have every class together. Somehow, we sit next to each other in every class as well, even in the ones where we didn't pick our seating chart.

It's September. I cry over boybands. She watches curiously.

For the next couple of months we casually talk. She spends every lunch period in the library. We text occasionally.

I have another friend who takes priority. His name is Logan. We got introduced by his friend Lennox when she asked for my phone number to give to him.

Lennox and I don't talk. Logan and I text nonstop for months. We discuss possibly dating in the future. I identify as bisexual and biromantic at this point.

I've been in this position before. Having mainly guy friends growing up puts me in a lot of awkward friendship/relationship situations. They always end the same.

I have an issue with dating in middle school. You're not dating if you don't go on dates, hold hands, kiss, or cuddle. But you can feel like you are.

In December Logan starts being mean. We start a game where we step on each other's shoes at lunch or in the hallway. It's fun.

Eventually, he recruits his friends to do it to me, too. It's a joke a first, but eventually there are 10 middle school boys chasing me and trying to hurt me.

I get kicked in the hallway and fall. Someone steps on my arm and people laugh. Logan watches. I tell Inara and she steps on his shoe for me.

Logan and I stop talking. Inara and I hang out more. By early January, Inara has stopped going to the library at lunch. We hang out with Emilyse in the field instead.

I text Logan one day in mid January and ask why we fell out. He says that I told someone that I was going to punch him in the face.

The person he said I told, only talked to me at the bus stop, and he didn't ride my bus. I had never said it in the first place, but his logic made it even more frustrating.

I tell him I got scared because I had a crush on him and didn't want to make things weird. It was a lie.

In February I came out to someone for the first time. They asked if I was bi and I said yes.

By March I had accepted that coming out didn't really make a difference. Inara and I hung out at school but not really anywhere else.

My birthday's in April. I invite her, Emilyse, and Rebekah. We paint rocks and draw on a table cloth. Emilyse feels distant.

Emilyse is homophobic. We find out in English one day. I don't remember how. Inara and I look at each other. We know we're both queer but haven't come out to each other.

I ask Emilyse if she would hate someone in GT for coming out. She says yes. Inara and I stop talking to her.

By May I've become obsessed with Marvel. Inara's interested in it and I decide to be, too. We talk about the movies. It gets awkward. She's not as interested when I get in on it.

By June we're best friends. We hang out fairly regularly, have all our classes together, and text all the time. Logan is forgotten.

School lets out at the start of June. We keep texting regularly. We make plans to see the new spiderman movie in early July with one of our other friends.

I have a complicated relationship with said friend. They're non-binary, although I didn't know it yet, and I've known them since Kindergarten. Inara met them in an advisory this year. I get jealous easily.

The day of the movie I shop at Kohl's. I buy the two of us matching shirts. We meet at the movie theater and it's awkward. I pay for popcorn and sneak in snacks that we share. Our friend's dad is there, but Inara and I don't have parents present.

We sit next to each other during the movie. At a certain scene, I start to get anxious. My stomach hurts and I can't breathe, I start to get sweaty.

I get up and rush out of the theater. I get to the women's bathroom and sit down on the floor of the very last stall. I'm panicing, dry heaving into the toilet, and trying not to cry. I try to text my mom that I'm having a panic attack but don't have reception.

I go back into the theater room after a few minutes. I'm still anxious, but better. Our friend is highly concerned, Inara just glances at me worriedly.

It's my first panic attack, and it sucked.

We leave awkwardly after it ends, trying to avoid the obvious elephant in the room. My mom is concerned when she picks me up. We don't talk about it. My dad and brother are watching it illegally when I get home.

We don't see each other until August of 2019, but continue to text through the rest of the summer.

When 7th grade starts, I'm still into Marvel. I've seen all the movies at this point, but there haven't been any new ones (even now) since FFH. Inara's interested, but not fully.

In late August/Early September we take BuzzFeed quizzes for fun and text each other the results. I take one about soulmates. I get her initials. I send her the link. She gets mine.

We take more and they all point to us being soulmates. We propose by sending pictures of rings over text. The wedding date is set for September 28th, 2019.

The time comes. It's Saturday and my brother has a double football game. We've planned to pick her up and take her there. It's a Christian league, so the games are at a church.

We go to the garden. There's a small white bench in some rocks, surrounded by flowers. We joke that we've had our ceremony. We wander around for a while longer.

My dad suggests that we go to the taco bell across the parking lot. We do. When we're done, we walk back to my house. Its not far, but we're alone. I carry her halfway back.

When we get to my house we pick things from my garden. We're barefoot and I'm wearing overalls. I joke that we're gonna get a farm one day when we're older.

She picks things while I stand back and watch. The sun hits her dyed-red hair just right. I vividly remember smiling at thinking "holy fuck she's pretty" you would think I'd put together my crush by then.

October rolls around and she cancels plans to go trick-or-treating with me. I'm upset but understand.

We "work" on a school project at her house. We don't actually get anything done before cuddling up on her bed and falling asleep to black panther.

In November, it's Emilyse's birthday party. We've gotten distant but still talk occasionally. Inara and I both go to the party.

We're watching Spiderman Far From Home because that's what Emilyse wanted. I've seen in twice, Ianra has too.

We're given candy and popcorn and then curl up on the couch. Inara and I sit next to each other.

(I forgot to mention this but at some point she stayed the night at my house. She slept on the floor in her swimming suit even though I asked if she wanted to sleep on the bed. Swimming was fun though. We also go to an arcade. We mini-golf and play laser tag. We also danced in the rain together at some point that day.)

Once we're no more than 15 minutes into the movie, I'm cuddled into her chest. It's important to mention that at this point I'm 5'6 and she's no more than 5'0.

We cuddle the entire movie. We share candy and pretend no one else is there. It feels great.

We don't talk about that night for months. Nobody brings it up. I come out to Rebekah around this time, saying no more than that I like girls. I still haven't told Inara.

By December, I've brought her to church a few times. I don't enjoy going to church, but my parents always encouraged it.

(I'd like to say at this point as well that I have been raised Christian and identify with the faith despite the fact that I despise Church and disagree with many of the common teachings. If I ever had to choose for some reason, my sexuality matters more to me than my religion. Regardless, I respect your beliefs if they differ from mine :) )

Inara's birthday is in mid December. Her party consists of us making gay jokes with our enby friend despite not being technically out to each other.

My church youth group plans ice skating. I invite her and she accepts. I'm worried about it. It's essentially a date. Neither of our parents will be there.

We carpool with the youth leaders, who are actually pretty cute for a hetero couple. Inara and I share awkward glances the whole time.

When we get there I learn that Inara took ice skating lessons as a child. She's much more confident than I am, but pretends she doesn't know what she's doing. I skate about once or twice a season, but also rollerblade.

There's a wet, sloped, melty part of the rink. I get nervous and grab her hand. She holds it until we're out of the melted ice.

Every lap around I grab her hand at that point. Eventually, we just keep holding hands for an entire lap.

By the end of the night, we've both fallen a few times but held hands the whole time. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

That night, I rant about the adventure to one of my (ex)friends, who excitedly listens to my talk about holding hands with a girl.

There's a GT Christmas party at Hannah's. Inara and I carpool there. It's an all together boring party with the exception of a few interesting truth-or-dare questions.

(side note, remember Owen? Well he's one of Inara and I's best friends and we were actually close enough that the three of us were basically cuddling on the couch during part of the party. Also the whole class knows about Inara and I's wedding and calls us wives.)

Paislie asks me if I wanted to "marry" Inara before we got "married". I mumble an answer that nobody hears. I don't repeat it. When it's time to leave, Inara and I have our legs intertwined on the couch. We don't mention that, either. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

January is good. There's a night, the 4th I believe, that we really connect. We officially come out to each other for the first time on that night, and it gets really real, really fast.

She says she's pan, I say I'm bi but confused.

In mid January she texts me that she's crying because one of her favorite YouTubers finally hit a million. She cries for hours but never tells me who. I pay it no mind.

A few days later, she mentions a YouTube channel called Unus Annus and tells me that it's super interesting. I text back but don't look it up.

A few more days pass and I'm randomly on the trending page for YouTube, which I never do. I see a video trending called "Mark and Ethan go casket shopping". The thumbnail is interesting enough that I check what the channel is. I notice it's the one Inara told me about.

I watch the video and subscribe within 5 minutes. I text Inara quotes from that video, Ethan Finally Becomes a Man, and the Lie Detector test videos, until she responds and is surprised that I found the channel.

I obsess quickly and depend on her to know the new video at 1pm everyday. She gets annoyed and we drift apart slowly.

In February things get rocky. We fight often. If I win a small argument she doesn't talk to me for hours. She gets pissed at refuses to tell me what the Unus Annus video is called if I ask too many times.

At some point I get fed up and confront her. I don't remember what about, but we stop talking all together.

Friends pick sides. I'm left alone. We don't talk for a month. She tells me that she pushed me away because she thought I'd react badly to her telling me she loves me.

I confess my crush. She tells me she feels the same.

We finally make up at about 8:30 on a Sunday night in March. It's not fixed but we plan to talk. And 9:00, the school district announces that it's shutting down until least after spring break.

We stopped trying to communicate, but eventually, slowly we started talking again. We text a few times a day now, mostly about UA and anxiety, the best combo.

We haven't seen each other since. We're probably going back to school in person in about a month, but I'm not sure. Nobody is.

I've called her my girlfriend on here before, simply because I don't know what we are. I joked the other day about how the youth leaders would react if I said I was texting my girlfriend.

Here's how that went:

So we're just jokingly married for now! It's a confusing pile of garbage but we both came out as lesbians the other day so that's a new development.

I don't know if any of that makes sense but I'll answer any questions anybody has :)

[teenytinystorage]

Coinscore Arcade And Laser Tag

Summary: “The Sides all run an arcade together, each using their talents to keep it up”

Word Count: 3,872

Warnings: One very very brief mention of blood, knives, and injury, but no one gets hurt whatsoever

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Platonic/romantic prinxiety, logicality, dukeceit, & basically all the sides are besties

Notes: This fic is based on this amazing prompt I found from @sanderssides-prompts! Kudos to the anon who submitted it!!

Enjoy! :)

—

Coinscore Arcade And Laser Tag was the best arcade Gainesville, Florida could offer. And its owners Logan Middleton, Patton Heath, Roman and Remus Weston, Virgil Holmes, and Dee Webber couldn’t help but agree.

Often shortened to simply “Coinscore” for the convenience of begging kids and tired-out parents, the place had it all. Long windows in the front of the building beamed glimmering moonlight into the neon, darkly colored interior filled with music-pumping, color-flashing, ticket-spitting arcade machines.

In the front left of the building sat the prize table run by Logan and Patton, occasionally by Dee as well, with a wall hanging up packaged neon signs, inflatable aliens, plastic swords, and labels with way overpriced ticket amounts. It, of course, also had a glass shelf-table combo filled with erasers, alien-finger-toys, and parachute army men.

Right then, a couple of kids, maybe 7 or 8 or so, stood at the table, standing on their tippy-toes to set their tickets down and see how many they won.

Logan, with his tree-like lankiness, crumpled up as he crouched to grab the scale from under the table and pulled out a comically sized calculator that would only be practical in an impractical place like Coinscore.

He set the tickets into a bucket, placed it upon the scale, and quickly started to type some numbers into the calculator, all the while the kids bounced up and down and were deciding which color of alien they wanted.

Logan then looked up (or, well, down in his case) from his calculator and at the awaiting children. “Your total comes to 991 tickets.”

The kids then deflated at the admission, looking at the giant alien hung up on the wall that stared at them in otherworldly longing with its 1,000 ticket label.

One little boy ran over to his mom sitting in a chair talking with other moms and sniffly told her the tragedy. She stood, grabbing her purse, and walked over to the table.

Logan tensed. It always got serious when the mom came over.

It was at that moment Patton Heath himself walked out from the supply closet carrying two cardboard boxes stacked atop each other, his shimmering brown skin glinting in the same shade as the boxes.

“Hey Lo, my bestest friend, the platonic love of my life,” Patton smiled wide.

“Hi, Patton. I’m stuck in quite the predicament right now,” Logan answered, nodding over to the sad children and the confused but somewhat uptight mother standing on the other side of the shelf.

“Ohhhh. Not enough tickets?” Patton whispered, setting down the boxes he carried and trodding over.

Logan nodded.

Patton stood at the table and looked down at the kids. “What prize did you guys want?”

The kids sadly pointed to the giant aliens mounted on the wall in all of their extraterrestrial and airy glory.

He looked at the ticket label then back to Logan, whispering, “How much are they off?”

“One-thousand minus nine-ninety-one is nine, so they’re nine off.”

Patton turned to Logan and gave a small pout, not unlike the children’s pouts ahead of him. “It’s nine tickets off, Lo. Can’t we just give it to them?”

Logan thought for a moment, pressing his cold, long fingers onto his chin.

Patton leaned over and whispered, “Hey, hey, I get it. But I read your salary spreadsheet for the week and I can tell we’ll be fine giving away a prize for only nine tickets less. And they might tell their friends about their prize and how they got it at Coinscore and we might make even more than a breakeven amount!” Patton beamed pridefully.

Logan had a surprised look on his face. “I suppose you’re right.”

Patton turned back to the kids. “Would you guys like the red, green, or purple alien?”

“Purple!” the kids cheered, smiles coming back to their faces.

Patton unhooked a purple alien toy from the wall, detached its ticket label, and handed it to the starry-eyed kids. “Here you go! Don’t worry about the nine tickets, this little buddy’s all yours.”

The kids squealed in excitement and the mom grinned in relief. She clutched her handbag and smiled at Logan and Patton. “Thank you very much. Christian, Daria, Jacob, what do you say to the nice men?”

“Thank you!” the three children echoed as they walked with the mom out the door, smiling and squealing about their alien friend who was just as big as them.

“I didn’t know you read my salary reports, Patton,” Logan turned to start unpacking the boxes.

“I like to be a little smart sometimes,” Patton smiled, grabbing Logan’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze. “Like a certain smartie pants I know.”

Logan’s pale face bloomed with rose-pink tones, and he shook his head, a small smile across his lips.

As they got to work unpacking boxes, inside the arcade was where the real fun and drama happened.

Inside, there were all kinds of games monitored by Roman and occasionally Virgil: whack-a-mole, helicopter shooting games where players step inside a shiny plastic interior to play, ball toss, spinning wheels, hard-hitting hammer-swinging games, even an electronic Fruit Ninja game, and the classic skeeball.

And at one of the three skeeball stations stood an angered, growling 9-year-old, who chucked another ball forward into the glass cage and landed into the zero zone again.

She let out an aggravated yell before tossing her long brown hair over her shoulders, crossing her arms.

Roman, who stood at a pirate-themed wheel game and was encoring two little boys who won eight-hundred tickets, saw this outburst and, like the modern knight he was, pranced over to the distressed darling.

“Hello! You’re playing skeeball?” Roman greeted, crouching down to the girl’s height.

“Yeh, but I suck at it,” she pouted, “Hmph.”

“Here, do you want me to show you my trick on how to win? I like skeeball too,” Roman offered, and the girl reluctantly handed her one of her last two neon orange skeeballs.

Roman turned to face the glass chamber of point holes. “What I always do is focus on the wrist.” Roman bent his right hand backward, aiming it towards the skeeball ramp as he turned his eyes back to the pouting girl. “I like to think of my hand like a broken excavator, those construction cars with the big arm in front that pick up big lumps of dirt. My hand goes up super fast and flings the ball forward, just like a broken excavator would fling dirt up in the air and make dirt go everywhere!”

The girl, despite just having been mad, perked up a bit as she laughed and stepped back to watch Roman play.

Roman stood up to full height, a modest 5’5”, and stepped his left leg back and his right leg forward as he turned to face the ramp.

As he described, his hand became a broken excavator as he shot his wrist up, causing the ball to barrel forward on the ramp and land right into the sweet 1,000 point spot.

The girl smiled widely and clapped for Roman, giggling.

Roman turned and bowed sillily. “Thank you, thank you. I’m honored. Now you try,” Roman took the other skeeball from the game’s compartment and handed it to her. “Remember, broken excavator.”

The girl nodded, determined, and positioned herself like Roman had earlier with her left leg forward and right leg back (since she was left-handed), and bent her wrist back before flinging it forward and tossing the ball up the ramp and into the cool 500-point spot.

Roman smiled, clapping his hands excitedly. “What an excellent toss! Ten out of ten.”

“Thank you,” the girl smiled shyly, twirling her pink tutu around her finger. She held out her tiny hand. “I’m Melanie.”

“Nice to meet you, Melanie,” Roman grinned, giving her hand a quick shake. “I’m Roman.”

“Cool name,” Melanie added.

“Thank you!” Roman beamed, before putting on a serious face. “Alright, play another round and show me what you’ve got!”

Melanie nodded, grinning and letting two tokens clink-clink-clink down into the machine as five more skeeballs plummeted into the machine compartment.

Now, although the games and prizes were cool on their own, the hands-down coolest part about Coinscore was that the back end of the arcade was devoted entirely to a laser tag arena.

Behind the two big flashy entrance doors, the debriefing room and the vesting room, the arena was themed like an abandoned, haunted town, thanks to Remus’s suggestion.

Ripped up buildings and large open windows, bus stops, holographs of floating books and chairs projected onto the walls, long ramps up to different structures, a large platform bridge in the middle of it all, and plenty of running space for excited kids filled the massive arena space.

Dee, Remus, and Virgil ran the laser tag rodeo and also did the cleaning of the arena when arcade days were slow.

Dee’s job was to read out the rules to the ecstatic players in the empty, glowing blue debriefing room and had the kids repeat and promise not to run or hurt anyone or jump or rules like that that basically fell under anything that could cause a lawsuit. (And Dee was just finishing up law school; he knew how much lawsuits sucked.)

Meanwhile, Remus and Virgil were the “laser masters” as the kids were told to call them 3 times in a row when something went wrong or their laser gun stopped working or they got lost or anything like that.

But laser-master-worthy incidents were rare, so Remus just had to stand guard during games and hang out with Dee while Virgil got plenty of time off to help out with any extra work going on, like birthday parties or, in some cases such as this one, helping to convince a fearful kid to play laser tag.

A lonely little boy, probably 9 or so, stood outside the laser tag doors, staring at the cracked wallpaper and the spooky neon green lighting, and he shivered, wrapping his arms around himself.

Virgil noticed this boy as he stood holding open the arena entrance and as the other boys he was with walked inside after trying tirelessly to convince him.

Virgil called out to the boy, “Are you coming in? I’m ‘bout to shut the doors.”

“I… I want to,” the boy said, still staring at the wall ahead of him. “But I’m scared.”

Virgil took in a breath. “C’mere, let me tell you something.”

The boy walked over to Virgil and stood, twiddling his fingers. Virgil crouched down on one knee.

“I know it looks scary from the outside, and you wouldn’t be wrong about that,” Virgil started, looking at the boy’s frightened face. “But believe me, it’s not scary on the inside. I promise. All it is is some broken buildings and bus stops. There’s no scary robots or scary ghosts or jumpscares. There’s no scary music or blood or knives or anything like that.”

“You’re sure?” the boy croaked out.

“One-hundred percent,” Virgil nodded as the multiple chains around his neck clinked against each other. “But if you don’t want to play this round, which is totally fine, you can watch up from the top and make sure it’s all good yourself. This round’ll be done in fifteen minutes and then the next one is the last round for tonight. You can play the last round if you deem the arena good for you.”

“I think I’ll do that,” the boy nodded quickly.

“Alright. You go up and check for me, and make sure none of your friends do anything silly, okay?”

The boy chuckled. “I’ll try, but they’re very silly.”

“I’d bet,” Virgil grinned, standing back up.

“Thank you sir,” the boy smiled.

“No prob,” Virgil waved, shutting the door behind him but before that seeing the boy speedily running up the ramp to the spectator station.

Dee and Remus were leading the kids into the dark vesting room as Virgil approached in his black work apron over his P!ATD hoodie and black jeans, making him entirely camouflaged in the blacklight except for his neon purple hair that practically made him a beacon of purple light.

“Where were you?” Remus asked, retying the ponytail that held back his lion’s mane of hair.

“Helping a kid out,” Virgil answered back.

“Well, good thing you’re here now,” Dee commented, “I think these kids are especially insolent this time, so we might need another ‘laser master’ for the tots that didn’t hear the rule about having to hold onto the blaster to shoot.”

“You got it, Jekyll,” Virgil pointed a finger gun at Dee before walking into the vesting room, Jekyll being a nickname solicited by Dee’s vertigo that split his face into halves like the halved aspects of Jekyll and Hyde, and also by Dee’s absolute dorkery in all that was musical theater.

As the round was about to start and as Dee made the kids once again promise not to do anything that would hurt themselves, Remus and Virgil congregated into the half-emptied vesting room with glowing vest-holding-pillars and a few leftover vests with blasters attached.

Dee then assigned the colors and heard the groans of annoyed kids who didn’t get computer-assigned on the same teams as their friends.

The robotic voice announced above that the round was starting in ten seconds, and as the kids scrambled to find their spots, Dee turned back around to Remus and Virgil.

“I swear I’m up to here with these foolish wildebeests,” Dee sighed. “Our last few rounds were good but I think they’re just starting to get rambunctious and just want to see me mad.”

“I’m not blaming them,” Remus shrugged, leaning back against the wall with his wide pale shoulders and torso. “You’re pretty sexy when you’re mad.”

“Ugh,” Virgil shook his head, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pockets and wishing he could put on his headphones during work. “Leave me out of the friend-flirting, please.”

“No can do, dreamy darkstorm of doom!” Remus beamed, wrapping his arms around Virgil.

Virgil shook his head, grinning only because of the beaming Remus and the chuckling Dee beside him.

“Alright alright, let’s actually watch this match now and make sure no one gets hurt please?” Dee pulled up the arena cameras on the scoring screen in the corner of the room. Remus and Virgil crowded around him.

And from the spectator camera, Virgil could see the little boy he talked to earlier watching the round and his friends that waved and cheered to him as they played.

“Did you see what I did there, Sal?!” one boy exclaimed. “I got that kid and he didn’t even see it coming!”

Sal smiled at the comment, only then to start laughing once the boy’s vest beeped, showing that he got shot as he was talking.

“Who did that?! Michael, if that was you I’m gonna destroy you!” he fumed as he ran off. “Bye Sal!”

“Sal, huh?” Dee added. “Seems like a nice kid. Good job helping him, Vir.”

“I relate to him, y’know? Might as well try and help a little me or whatever.”

“Virrrrgilllllll has light in his soullllll!” Remus teased, poking Virgil’s cheek repeatedly. “I knew it I knew it I knew it!”

“Oh, get over it,” Virgil smirked as he playfully bopped Remus’s arm.

And once the round had come to an end (only needing assistance from Remus once because a kid did indeed forget the “hold onto the blaster to shoot” rule), Virgil saw Sal hurry out of the spectator floor to join his friends outside the door.

The kids returned their vests and quickly ran out the doors to see the TV-displayed leader-board. They crowded around Sal and told quickly and loudly of their adventures, to which Sal smiled and laughed.

And it was quite a delight for Dee, Virgil, and Remus, who were all standing by the door that Virgil held open once again for the last time that night, to see that Sal followed his friends in and that Sal smiled at Virgil with a big beaming grin.

Virgil shut the door behind them as the last round started and finished and as the kids flooded out from the doors to their parents so they could leave the arcade, smiling and laughing all the way. Virgil waved goodbye to Sal, who graciously thanked him again for the help before walking out with the other kids and their parents.

Remus locked arms with Virgil and Dee as the three headed out of the arena and over to the prize table, where Logan and Patton waved goodbye to a few more kids who stayed late to play more games and where Roman leaned against the snack bar shelf and gave some high-fives to kids as they walked out.

“Bye Melanie! You’re a skeeball champion,” Roman cheered as a little brown-haired girl and her father walked out of the doors, both waving goodbye to Roman.

Remus approached Roman, letting go of Dee and Virgil’s arms, and chuckled, readjusting his ponytail for approximately the twentieth time that day. “Made another new friend, huh?”

“I did,” Roman turned to Remus and grinned. “One more than you’ve ever made, intro-dirt.”

“Oooh! Right where it hurts,” Remus cried, putting his hand over his heart before hooking Roman into his arm and ruffling up Roman’s hair.

Patton turned from the prize shelf and walked over. “Melanie, was it? Such a cute-looking kid.”

“Oh, but you won’t believe this! Virgil made a friend today, too,” Remus beamed, letting go of Roman and turning to Virgil.

“Really? I’m shocked that your void of a heart had enough room for that,” Roman teased, before quickly adding, “Just kidding. Who was it?”

“Name was Sal,” Virgil commented, his left contact-purple eye and his right green eye darting down to his shoes. “Nice kid. About eight years old?” he glanced off to the side.

“Awww!” Patton squealed.

“Sal was afraid of the laser tag arena, but Vir convinced him it wasn’t so bad and Sal went in for the last round with all his friends,” Dee added, stuffing his hands into his black apron’s pockets after he swiped away a loose strand of hair that fell out of his yellow beanie littered with Broadway buttons.

“How charismatic of you!” Roman smiled, “What a kind and fair lad,” he trilled, stepping down onto his knee and grabbing onto Virgil’s hand for a tiny hand-kiss.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “How about you save the prince kiss until after you’ve had a breath mint?”

Roman scoffed, standing back up and dusting off the bottom of his apron while Remus and Dee both simultaneously ooooh’d at the roast.

Just then the joking atmosphere was quelled as Logan’s clacking strides from his derbies coming towards them filled the air. “Okay jokers, we’ve got a bit more work to do before we can officially wrap up for the night. There’s some boxes to be carried and a bit of cleaning to do.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Right. Which one of you is strongest, again?” he asked, directed to the two Westons, who simultaneously pointed to themselves respectively.

“Go see,” he said. “There’s four boxes behind the table.”

Roman and Remus shoved past each other to get over to the boxes, and soon enough they were both fighting to grab more boxes than the other.

Logan opened the prize booth’s gate and walked out to Dee and Virgil with Patton following behind him.

“Smart, L. Using their competitiveness to get more work done,” Virgil commented.

“Oh, well, I try,” Logan replied.

“Nothing is stronger than a sibling’s need to outdo their brothers and sisters,” Dee recited poetically, holding a nonexistent skull up in his hand like he was the new Shakespeare.

Patton laughed and clapped, and both Logan and Virgil stifled a chuckle.

“Hey, Dee, speaking of that,” Virgil added with Dee turning towards him.

“I saw you reading out rules today, and your theatrics are pretty cool,” Virgil complimented, lightly shoving Dee with his elbow. “I swear, the kids always listen to you say all the rules when you do your voices and acting. They just start snoring whenever Ree and I try.”

Dee grinned smugly, shoving Virgil back. “Gee-muh-netti. I’m flattered,” he blushed as he tipped an imaginary hat from his head.

“Hey nerd, where do you want the boxes?!” Roman yelled from in front of the storage closet, carrying all four boxes with Remus swiping at them to grab them back.

“Back of the storage closet!” Logan yelled back. “And don’t drop them, please!”

Remus opened the door for Roman politely before slamming it shut behind both of them and probably trying to grab the boxes back again.

Logan sighed, holding the bridge of his nose in his fingers. “That’s all the lifting work. Everyone else, cleaning duty. We had a crowded day today.”

And so the four got to work wiping down and unplugging all of the machines, and once all the work was done all six owners met back up at the front of the arcade.

“I carried more boxes than Romie!” Remus cheered, smiling and puffing out his chest.

Roman pushed him to the side. “You liar! I carried all four at once.”

Patton stood between them and broke up the fight. “Guys, guys, you’re both strong, okay?”

Roman and Remus both stared at each other angrily for a moment before both of them absolutely melted at the compliment.

“Thank you so much!” “You really think that? You’re too sweet!”

“Alright, listen up everyone,” Logan started. “I’ve calculated our weekly earnings up, and it seems that we have enough to do a sort of ‘splurge’ for our late-dinner-early-breakfast tonight.”

“I call IHOP!” Patton beamed. “Pancakes, anyone?”

“Not a bad idea,” Virgil nodded, slipping out of his apron and tossing it onto the coathanger to the side of the entrance doors.

The other four unanimously agreed, and Logan nodded. “IHOP it is,” he announced, taking his car keys out of his back pocket and spinning them around his fingers. He opened the door for the other five who graciously thanked the ever-loving heck out of him.

As the six headed out, Roman’s arm over Virgil’s shoulder, Dee and Remus’s arms locked together, and Logan and Patton’s hands interlaced after Logan shut off the light switch, Remus interjected, “I have another idea for the arena, by the way! What if we add a totally wrecked bus to the middle of the space, like halfway stuck in the ground and open windows and a raised ramp so it’d be a cool hiding spot?”

“Not a bad idea,” Logan added. “We might have enough in the budget for something like that.”

“Or what about this! Pop-up ghost targets that appear at random times for extra points!”

“Cool.” “Good idea!” “Not too bad bro, coming from that one braincell up in your head.” “Sounds good.” “That could work,” the others agreed.

The six friends loaded up into Logan’s RV and drove off to dinner and a long night of rest after the busy day.

Coinscore really was the best arcade Gainesville, Florida could’ve ever asked for.

—

[faketextsfromlastmight]

Best of tags #13

A compilation of my favorite reactions to this blog.

A chat about Iida wanting to move to South America (Link):

@displacerlovesmyhero said:

I mean, some people just want to hide the bodies in South America.

@frankly-ludicrous said:

Toss 'em in the fucking Grand Canyon or something! We don't need your corpses stinking up the place, we have our own corpses to take care of!

I feel like I stumbled upon two rival crime bosses arguing about territories and now I’m terrified.

@theproxy066 on Shigaraki recruiting Bakugou and Tokoyami: (Link)

I like this, but wasn't Tokoyami picked out last-minute by Mr. Compress?

You know that shitty friend who only wants to hang out with you at the beginning of the month when your credit card is full? Well that’s how I treat the canon.

@hotonten on the D.E.K.U. method: (Link)

The U should be changed to "unconditional love"

LOVE?!!! Urgh! Are we even reading the same manga? Midoriya is a creeping black widow and he’s here to get the DOUGH. Watch out, Iida, Midoriya’s looking at your inheritance!

@abraxax-heart on Aizawa playing favorites: (Link)

This is a lie because Aizawa also dearly cares for Bakugou, Mirio and Eri (though she’s not her student… Yet). AND is also incapable of restraining himself when faced with problem children. He has to adopt them.

Forget the gender spectrum! The new way to illustrate your personality is: where do you fall on a scale from “Aizawa hates kids” to “Aizawa adopts every single kid he meets”. And now the weather.

Joke aside, I do think Eraserhead likes his students, he’s just terribly demanding of them because of his... troublesome history with the superhero system. Does he train Shinsou on his work hours, though? There might be an issue with that as he’s not part of Class 1-A (yet) so spending that much time on training a kid instead of his own students might get Aizawa in trouble. My personal headcanon is that Nezu doesn’t mind because Mineta is inevitably going to get expelled and they’ll need another student to replace him.

@nemon0416 on Kaminari and the lack of a Nobel maths prize: (Link)

Denki. I hate to break it to you...

I think Kaminari’s still correct. The Nobel prize does not reward mathematicians because that field does not directly and immediately help Humanity in a practical, applicable way (this policy has been criticized over the years and does not reflect my own views on the matter).

Although the Fields medal and the Abel prize are commonly nicknamed “the Nobel prizes of mathematics” by journalists because they’re of equal prestige, these two awards are not affiliated with the Swedish Academy which chooses the Nobel laureates.

@samqui801 on the short-lived Todoroki family sitcom: (Link)

#the fuck is todavia todos todoroki#i mean the real name of the show

The backstory I imagined for this is that Endeavor wanted to build up his image as a “family values” superhero because that was the one thing he could do that All Might couldn’t. So his plan was to coerce his wife and children into playing fictionalized versions of themselves in a family sitcom he produced, wrote and directed himself. An unholy mix of “Full House” and “Keeping up with the Kardashians”. He chose to film it in Bolivia because he heard that country had a special tax loophole which allowed him not to pay child actors (in that case, his own children). However Bolivian law required Endeavor to produce the TV series under a Castillian name rather than a Japanese one. Annoyed, Endeavor simply opened a dictionary and looked for words beginning with “Tod-”. Hence “¡Todavía todos Todoroki!” was born... and cancelled after only one episode. Endeavor considers one of the most shameful failures of his career and turns red at the mere mention of it. However the pilot episode did not fall into obscurity as Endeavor as hoped. Instead it has developed a cult following similar to Tommy Wiseau’s “The Room”. Fans post memes of the ridiculous TV pilot all over the Internet and perform reenactment during live viewings. Natsuo sometimes attends them to recount his miserable experience filming the pilot and to throw some shade at his father. Shouto is however too young to remember the shoot as it was produced during his enfancy (when Enji was still trying to “make the marriage work”).

Wow, that was longer than I expected.

@cjgryffindor714 on Shotuo taking soba baths: (Link)

Don’t forget he only likes soba cold so he’s in a cold soba bath

Oh my gods, you are right. This is even less sexy than I envisioned.

@inbrightshadows on Shouto helping Inko plan her husband’s murder: (Link)

#also Inko: What kind of laser are we talking about?#have any gun recomendations?

Well Endeavor’s still alive so obviously Shouto can only recommand which guns to avoid when purchasing online.

@chr0nosaur on Iida’s birthday gift: (Link)

#imagine getting an alarm clock for ur birthday..

Well some people don’t have to imagine it. Thanks, Mom and Dad!

@theodericc on Sero being an underdog: (Link)

#sero isn't an underdog#he's amazing

I mean he’s an underdog in the sense that he’s really overlooked. Then again not being a protagonist also has its perks... I guess he doesn’t have to worry about having a tragic backstory and stuff. My fear is Horikoshi kills him off for easy drama.

@eduarddragonpaw on Todoroki playing Minecraft: (Link)

Weirdly I feel like this is what todoroki would do or call creepers :bakugoes"

I don’t know, Bakugou doesn’t seem to like giving hugs. Creepers definitely do.

@haisley on Shigaraki’s big speech: (Link)

#hes doing his best

Or his worst, depending on your point of view.

@emkamereon-kaiba on Rei also being a conspiracy theorist: (Link)

*inhales* THEORY-ROKIS

Plot twist: Dabi is not a Todoroki but started believing he was one because he read conspiracy theories on the Internet. Shouto and Rei also subscribe to the theory which involves a complex plot of Enji/Endeavor hyponitizing them to make them forget what Touya actually look like, and hiring an actor to play Touya. Heroes and villains have to make an alliance of circumstances to sit Dabi and the Todorokis down for an intervention and help the real Touya explain he’s not an actor.

@yuuri-katsuki-nikiforov on Midoriya’s step-dad: (Link)

Who is it?? The stepdad

For the sake of the joke, the stepdad is just an original character. In my mind he’s a lover Inko took while Hisashi was abroad and who started taking on a fatherly role out of convenience. He’s now more of a father to Midoriya than Hisashi, hence him refering to him as his “step-dad”.

@ghostintheshale on Toga wanting to skin Spinner for a handbag: (Link)

#if toga so much as points a knife in spinner's general direction i will personally stomp her to death with my hooves

In this house we stan A+ scalies/centaurs solidarity representation in the media, haters don’t interact!

@samqui801 on Iida’s dietary habits: (Link)

#maybe this is the reason why im not tall i didnt wash my bananas before i eat it#and i was blaming the lack of exercises when i was young

I think I remember a paper implying that eating banana skins increased the risks of cancer, so who knows?

[eddiesasspbrak]

When I’m With You Ch. 2

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together.

Ch.1

Ch.3

Read on AO3

Less than 2k words

It was Saturday, Eddie didn’t have to do anything. When he woke on the couch, his neck hurting from the insufficient head support, he was glad to see his streak of no hangover was still going strong. Still, he felt off. A little sick to his stomach, but not from the drinking. It was that emotional kind of ache that came with anxiety usually. He wasn’t sure what was causing it and it was really quite annoying when it hit out of nowhere.

He sat up, rolling his neck and allowing it to pop and stretch. He’d slept in his clothes and that always made him feel too warm and gross. The first thing he needed was a shower and then he should probably eat something, even though his stomach protested at the thought. He turned the shower on and looked at the way his hair was sticking up in the mirror. He looked tired. He was tired. Sleeping on the couch wasn’t exactly restful.

Stripping off his clothes, he stepped under the warm spray of water. The events of the night before were coming back slowly as the groggy remnants of sleep faded away. He remembered Bev showing up with Richie and being stuck talking to him all night. He remembered Ben and Bev leaving them there alone without telling him they were going to go. He remembered Richie inviting him for pie and then leaving in a hurry when he got a text. The sad and disappointed look he tried to hide behind a smile crept back into his mind and his stomach churned with that heavy anxiety feeling again.

He tried to shake all thoughts from his head as he focused on getting clean instead. Feeling fresher than he had before, dressed in clean clothes, hair drying, he went to this kitchen to see if he could find anything he could stomach at the moment. In one of the cabinets he found a sleeve of crackers and took them back to the living room with him. He switched the TV on, ignoring the cooking show that was on as he checked his phone for the first time since waking up.

Ben: I’m so, so, so sorry. Beverly said she wanted to go somewhere alone and wouldn’t let me tell you first.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he read the text. He wasn’t actually mad at him and didn’t really expect an apology. But Ben was probably sitting there worried that he was angry. He was always like this. He’d spent his childhood before moving to town without friends. They’d met in middle school and found they liked some of the same things. Eddie didn’t really have friends either, so they found comfort in being with another outcast. However, Ben was always worried he’d do something wrong and lose him. Even in high school when their friend group grew to include Stan, even when all three got into the same college and ventured outside of their small town for the first time together.

Stan and Ben lived on campus, but Eddie’s mom had helped him get his apartment. He’d started out in the dorms, but he couldn’t stand living with a roommate who didn’t keep clean and his roommate was constantly complaining about him being anal about cleanliness. He also didn’t cope well with the communal showers. In the end, it was just better for him to live on his own off campus. He’d thought about finding a three bedroom with Stan and Ben, but for the time being, they were enjoying living on campus. It was fine. Eddie didn’t mind living alone.

He munched on some crackers while he typed out a response to Ben.

Eddie: It’s fine. I left right after you. That was pretty much the plan anyway

Ben: You’re not mad?

Eddie: No. How did it go?

Ben: Can I come over?

Eddie: That bad?

Ben: No. I just want to talk about it in person.

Eddie: Yea. I’m home

Ben: Twenty minutes

He hadn’t really expected to have company but spending a few hours with Ben wasn’t a terrible way to spend his Saturday. He could probably guilt him into buying him lunch to pay him back for the bar tab. Eddie went to put his phone down when another text came through, this one from Stanley.

Stan: Did you guys go out without me last night?

Eddie: Every time we ask you out you say you’ve got a date

Stan: So…you did

Eddie: If I had texted and asked you to come out what would your answer have been?

Stan: …that’s not the point

Eddie: omg ok I’m sorry I didn’t ask you to hang out Stan. I promise that next time I will ask you to come so you can turn me down properly instead of bringing this mystery person for your BEST FRIENDS to finally meet.

Stan: You will meet them eventually. I’m just not ready.

Eddie: It’s been three months.

Stan: Excuse me but I’m supposed to be mad at you. You can’t just turn things around on me like this

Eddie: Ben is coming over now. Do you want to come too? He’s going to regale us with the fascinating events with Bev from last night

Stan: …I can’t

Eddie: Oh my God

Stan: Next time?

Eddie sent back an emoji of hand flipping him off and dropped his phone down on the couch. He half focused on the cooking competition show while he ate almost the entire sleeve of crackers and waited for Ben. He was starting to feel better, more relaxed after texting with his friends. They both knew that he struggled with a panic disorder and were often the ones to help calm him when things got bad. Over the years they’d learned what they needed to do for him. Just being with him, occasionally hugging him or just placing a hand on his arm to keep him grounded. He really did love them.

He figured Ben was texting to let him know he’d arrived when his phone chimed about fifteen minutes later. He unlocked the screen and stared down at the number the text had been sent from. It was local, but not one he had saved or recognized. He opened the message warily, figuring it was probably a spam message from some store that had his information. Instead of a special offer or a sale announcement, he was met with the picture of a slice of pie.

?: thinking of you

Eddie: Who is this?

?: really? The pie didn’t tip you off?

Eddie: Um…

?: it’s Richie

It clicked for him a second later, having been working hard to forget about any of their interactions from the night before. Of course, he’d asked him to go get pie with him before he’d disappeared. The only question remaining was how he’d gotten his number. He for sure didn’t remember giving it to him and he didn’t want him to have it. He would never know peace if Richie was able to text him.

Eddie: Why do you have my number?

Richie: Bev gave it to me

Eddie: Why?

Richie: I asked her

Eddie: Why?

Richie: I wanted it

Eddie: Why?

Richie: did you give your phone to a 5yo?

Eddie: I’m just trying to understand why you would want to have the ability to contact me

Richie: you’re not very social, are you?

Eddie: No. I’m not.

Richie: we’ll have to work on that Eds

Eddie: Don’t call me that

A text came through from Ben, letting him know he was downstairs. Eddie set his phone aside, ignoring the new texts from Richie and going to the intercom. He pushed the button that would allow Ben to enter and unlocked his front door. He went back to the couch and a minute later Ben was letting himself in. At first glance, he didn’t look upset. Things must have gone well.

“So?” Eddie said, expectantly.

“I kissed her.” Ben blurted out, going tense.

“What? Really?” Eddie was really interested now.

“We left the bar and we were just walking. It was cold but it was like, I couldn’t even tell or something. I just wanted to keep walking forever if it meant that I could have her by my side.”

“Ok, enough of the poetic shit. Tell me what happened.”

“We stopped to get coffee at this place that was still open, and we were sitting and talking and…”

“And?”

“She’s just so pretty. I was staring at her and she started laughing at me, so I thought I screwed up. Then she just leaned across the table and kissed me.”

“Like, on the mouth?”

“Yep.”

“I told you she liked you.” Eddie couldn’t help the ‘I told you so’ as he had been telling Ben for months that Bev was into him. He was so sure that she wouldn’t be into him that he doubted every move he made around her.

Ben finally left the door and joined Eddie on the couch. He looked like he was in disbelief, like maybe he was thinking that he’d dreamt it all.

“So, are you guys dating then?” Eddie asked, pulling his legs up underneath him.

“I think so. She said I was cute and then we held hands while I walked her home and we kissed again before I left.”

“Did you ask her out again?”

“No. But she said her birthday is on Thursday and she wants both of us to come.”

“Is it a party?”

“She said drinking and laser tag.”

That didn’t sound terrible to Eddie. He liked Bev. Considered her a friend. He would like to celebrate her birthday with her. He’d never been to play laser tag, so he wasn’t sure he’d be any good. Still, he didn’t have any classes on Friday so a fun night out on Thursday didn’t sound bad.

“Should be fun. And, hey, she wants to see you again after kissing you. That’s a good sign, right?” Eddie asked, patting Ben on the shoulder.

“I guess. Do I kiss her when I see her? When I shop for a birthday gift, should I shop like I’m buying for a girlfriend? Or a friend?”

“You need to calm the fuck down, man. When you see her, if she wants to kiss you, she will let you know. This is Beverly we’re talking about. As for a gift, just buy her something you know she’ll like. I’ll go with you to find something.”

“Really?”

“Yea, of course.”

Ben wrapped his arms around Eddie and pulled him into a crushing hug. “I love you.”

“I know.” Eddie patted his back and laughed. “I love you too.”

Ben ended up staying the rest of the afternoon. They spent the day watching movies and playing games together. It had been a long time since they last did this, just enjoying each other’s company. They ordered dinner, Ben paid, and ate in front of the TV. Eddie told him about how he knew Richie and how Bev had given him his phone number without asking him first. Now he had him saved as a contact in his phone and he hated it.

When night fell, Ben chose to stay the night instead of heading back to his dorm. Tomorrow was Sunday and he didn’t have to be anywhere. They shared Eddie’s bed and the next morning they went out for a late breakfast of pancakes and coffee at a diner. Eddie absently remembered Richie’s comment about cheating on him with someone else’s coffee and rolled his eyes, drinking every drop and asking for a refill.

[freddiedearfriend]

Plus One - A Night at the Fandom “Secret Santa” Gift!

This is my gift for @brianmays-badgers​ for @dtfrogertaylor​‘s A Night at the Fandom event! This story ended up quite different from what I set out to do, but I’m kind of into it. It’s less “enemies to lovers” like I intended and more “Reader is a badass who doesn’t take shit from men.” I hope you like it! 🐛💖

Plus One

Gwilym Lee x F!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit

A/N: No offense to any Caitlins out there! Also, this is actually the first fic I’ve ever completed (let alone posted online) and I have no beta reader so I’d love to hear your honest opinion, criticisms and all! Like for real, I know I have a lot of room for improvement so I’d love to hear what you liked and what you think could be better. 

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It had been a while since you felt so relaxed. School was just as busy as always, but you had been feeling especially tightly wound lately, unable to shake the tension that seemed to permeate your entire being.

But now, for the first time in weeks, you felt like yourself again. Dancing always seemed to have that effect on you. Some god-awful remix of an Ariana Grande song was playing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had just enough alcohol in your system to make you feel relaxed, loose, but not out of control. You didn’t remember exactly how you had arrived at that point, but that didn’t really bother you.

You were dancing with someone, but it was dark, and everything felt a little blurry in a pleasant way, and you couldn’t see who it was. You could certainly feel him, though, your bodies pressed impossibly close together as you moved to the music. Large, strong hands held your hips, which you swayed back and forth to the beat of the song. You sensed the pulsing presence of the other clubgoers around you, but the warmth radiating from your partner overpowered the usual stuffiness of such a crowd.

You sighed, tossing your hair back and running your hands up your partner’s torso, feeling the muscles underneath his (admittedly slightly sweaty) shirt. You brushed his chest with your fingers before sliding your hands up to grasp his shoulders.

Your partner leant down, whispering in your ear. His hot breath, smelling slightly of beer, made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It was oddly pleasant.

“This isn’t real.”

You looked up, slightly confused. All of a sudden, the club’s strobe lighting was too bright and disorienting, and you became acutely aware of the blood pulsing throughout your body. You still couldn’t see your partner’s face.

“What?” you shouted over the music, your own voice echoing loudly in your ears.

Your partner gave a throaty chuckle, and you slowed your dancing a bit, feeling as if you had just realized something important. You couldn’t conclude what it was, though; the alcohol was causing your brain to lag and keeping you from finishing the thought.

This time you saw as the shadowy figure of your partner, who stood well over a foot taller than you, hunched over considerably to speak to you again.

“You really think this would ever happen? Can’t you see who I am?”

You suddenly felt too sweaty, standing still in the middle of the dance floor as you tried to focus on the man’s face. Your eyes worked to adjust to the dimness being constantly punctuated by obnoxiously bright flashes of light, and eventually you were able to make contact with a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at you.

“There she is. Hello, Y/N.”

You startled awake, frantically fishing around in the sheets for your buzzing phone. You found it and snoozed the alarm, grimacing at the bright screen and the ungodly hour it displayed. “Fucking hell,” you groaned, turning over and pulling the covers over your head. You cursed your past self for thinking early-morning training for basketball would be good idea, a way to get more involved at school. Now that the time had come, you decided you really couldn’t care less about team building.

When your alarm went off for the second time a few minutes later, you took a resigned breath and dragged yourself out of bed.

This wasn’t the first time you had dreamt about Gwilym Lee. In fact, the dreams had been increasing in frequency lately, making you more and more irritated and tense as the weeks went on. As if you needed any more reason to hate him. He had ruined your life.

Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Your life was still going on relatively smoothly in most respects. But for the last few weeks you really had felt quite on edge, and Gwil was to blame.

It all sounded rather cliché when you thought about it. He was the freakishly beautiful British cousin of one of your classmates, visiting America for an acting apprenticeship and breaking the hearts of nearly everyone he encountered in his tragically short time there. Of course, he just had to get all chummy with your friend Joe, meaning you had to be around his pretentious ass constantly. (You were not going to let the presence of this interloper stop you from hanging out with one of your best friends.) And, the cherry on top of this disgusting shepherd’s pie, it was rumored that he was hooking up with Caitlin, a former friend of yours with whom you weren’t on the best of terms. None of this was helped by the fact that you weren’t exactly known for keeping your feelings to yourself, so everyone involved was aware of your varying levels of annoyance with both parties. The entire situation seemed like it could have been the plot of a bad romantic drama or young adult novel.

You just wished all of this could have waited until afteryour birthday. Nineteen isn’t usually one of the big birthday milestones, but you had been deathly ill last year on your eighteenth and had been planning to make up for it this year—and make up for it big time.

With the help of your parents and a distant yet generous great-aunt, you were able to rent out a barcade downtown for the evening. The place was a bar and was meant for adults, but also had laser tag, a bouncy obstacle course, and a wide variety of arcade games. When open to the public it was twenty-one and up, but they allowed minors at reserved events. You had sent out the invitations before Gwil showed up and stuck his stupid, chiseled jawline in your business, but you invited pretty much everyone he knew and it would be odd—and frankly, pretty rude—if he just wasn’t allowed to come. So he would be there.

All you could do was plan to keep your distance and hope that things went off without a hitch tonight.

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Despite every cell in your body crying out for you to go back to sleep, you made it through the early morning training as well all of your classes. After your last class, you went back to your dorm room and took a quick power nap before it was time to get ready for your party.

Since your party would involve some rather physical activities, you decided to forgo a particularly elaborate or high-maintenance look, instead putting on minimal makeup, your favorite pair of black jeans with a nice blouse, and a simple half-up, half-down hairstyle. You put in a pair of silver hoop earrings and some black velvet flats and admired yourself in the mirror. You looked damn good.

Your friend Lucy picked you up in her car and you rode to the barcade together. You had about half an hour to get things set up before other guests started arriving, and you puttered around pouring snacks into bowls and hanging streamers.

You were standing and chatting with Lucy when people began to show up.

“Wassup, Y/N!” Joe, always one to make an entrance, greeted you loudly. You quickly set down your paper cup of lemonade before Joe gave you a huge hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around.

“Looking incredible as always! Feel old yet?”

You laughed and half-heartedly adjusted your hair and top, pretending to be annoyed. “Please, Joe, I’m a year younger than you.”

Joe gave Lucy a quick hug in greeting before turning back to you. “Yes, and I’m telling you from experience, it really starts to hit you around nineteen. My back is killing me as we speak!” he said rather cheerfully for someone who was allegedly in pain.

“Whatever you say, old man.”

“Well hey now, you know what they say about respecting your elders.”

“Yeah, right. You already convinced me to let Gwil come. Don’t push your luck. You’re gonna keep that Laurence Olivier wannabe in check tonight, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe replied, straightening up and giving you a salute. “No impromptu soliloquies will be performed tonight if I can help it.”

“Oh god, I would die,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “Although if he did that then I would have a great excuse to kick him out.”

Joe gave a goofy grin but then spoke with a more serious voice. “Y/N, I know you’re tired of hearing it, but he’s really not that bad. When you get him alone he’s much less…”

“…of a huge douchebag?”

“Well, for lack of a better word, yes. In fact, I really think he acts so weird around you because he—”

“Oh god, Joe, don’t even try to give me the ‘boys pull your hair because they like you’ thing. That’s so second grade.”

“Okay, okay,” Joe put his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is…he does talk about you a lot. And it’s not all bad.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, wanting to end the conversation. The truth was, the fact that Gwil talked about you when you weren’t around piqued your interest, but you didn’t want Joe to see that. “Oh great, that makes me feel much better. Whatever. I don’t want to spend any more energy talking about him. Let’s get this party started.”

“Great. That’s the spirit. Now, can I interest you in a round of Whack-A-Mole?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’re on.”

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

Soon enough the party was in full swing, and you were making rounds, checking in with as many people as possible to make sure everyone was having a good time. You had just joined in a heated debate over which of the university’s physics professors was the best when you felt someone tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?” Joe was behind you looking almost sheepish, an expression you were not used to seeing on your normally boisterous and confident friend. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked a few feet away to talk with Joe in private.

“Okay, please do not freak out right now, but I have to tell you something,” Joe said carefully, his arms held in front of him, fists balled up nervously.

“Uh, okay, but you’re making it sound like I’m definitely gonna freak out right now,” you replied, looking at him with your brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

“No, it’s, well it’s not really that big of a deal, it’s just…Gwil brought Caitlin.” Joe muttered quickly, cringing as he tried to gauge your reaction.

Without thinking, you whipped your head around, scanning the room for either of the offending parties. You looked back at Joe, plastering on a fake smile so as to not appear as surprised and angry as you actual were.

“Of course he fucking did. Bastard. Where are they?”

“I swear he never mentioned it to me, when I told him he could come I never mentioned bringing a plus one. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I should have been clearer. I didn’t think—"

He looked so guilty and sad, and you just couldn’t be mad at that face. You sighed. “It’s okay, Joe, it’s not your fault. You just assumed he would have common sense and ask before bringing a guest, but they must have different party etiquette across the pond, huh?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m gonna make it up to you. I’ll take you for Chinese, just the two of us.”

“That does sound pretty nice. We haven’t been to Lucky Kitchen in a while.”

“Great, then it’s a plan. But hey, just ignore those two and enjoy your party, okay? You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Joe. And thanks for telling me, at least I’m prepared to run into either of them now.”

“That’s my girl,” Joe said, patting you firmly on the shoulder. “Now get back to your adoring fans.”

You chuckled and flipped your hair over your shoulder dramatically, turning back to the conversation you were having.

But you found it a little hard to focus on the discussion now. You were on edge, desperately trying to keep eye contact with the people you were talking to rather than checking your peripheral vision for your unwanted guests. Eventually the group you were chatting with decided to start a game of laser tag, and you enthusiastically joined in, letting the thoughts of Gwil and Caitlin’s presence run off your back.

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

Several intense games of laser tag and a Dance Dance Revolution tournament later, you were warm and happy and still mostly distracted from the presence of your two uninvited guests.

Then it was time for cake. The lights were dimmed, and your friends and family began to sing as the cake was brought out, sparklers in place of candles. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands. It was one of the most unique and beautiful cakes you had ever seen.

You had planned on just getting a few sheet cakes from Costco, since they were cheap and actually not half bad, but your parents insisted that they had it covered and surprised you with a huge custom cake from a bakery in town. It was four tiers, alternating chocolate and vanilla, and the entire thing was iced with a mint chocolate chip buttercream frosting and covered in white fondant roses.

You made a mental note to write that great-aunt a thank you card.

After everyone had gotten at least one helping of cake, they began to return to the games or sit in small groups in conversation. You stood near the table where the cake was, taking everything in. You were definitely started to lose steam now, but you mostly just felt pleasantly sleepy as you gazed out over the room. You had had a pretty perfect night so far. Then a nearby conversation brought you out of your daze.

“Like, who wants to play fucking Whack-A-Mole at an adult’s birthday party? I’m surprised this many people actually showed up.”

You recognized that voice immediately. Caitlin. An old friend-turned-frenemy-turned-full-on enemy, a voice you just couldn’t seem to get away from ever since elementary school.

“And she was actually, like, crying over the cake. Like are you kidding? Get a grip.”

You were too shocked to even be angry at first. You pulled out your phone surreptitiously, opening your conversation with Joe and sending him a text.

Omg, Caitlin and Gwil are talking shit

Almost immediately, you received the read receipt and then Joe’s response.

Not if I can help it

You stared at your phone, confused. Joe was nowhere to be seen, let alone do anything about this. You were typing out a response suggesting as much when you heard his voice—but not directed at you.

“Hey Gwil. Caitlin. How’s it goin’?” Joe was sweaty and attempting to catch his breath, clearly having just come from the bouncy obstacle course. He took a swig from a water bottle as he walked up to them.

Oh, no,you thought. What are you doing, Joe?

“Ugh, fine,” Caitlin replied to Joe. “Not really understanding the whole ‘adults playing arcade games’ thing but whatever. At least the cake was good.”

Gwil snorted. “Yeah, would help if I had something to drink, too.” God, he was so fucking arrogant. You couldn’t stand it.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Joe said cheerfully, “I’m having more fun than I have in long time. Nothing like some friendly competition to take your mind off midterms coming up. Come on, go through the obstacle course with me. Just once. We can race!”

Gwil seemed to perk up a little bit at this suggestion, but Caitlin quickly shot it down.

“Huh, yeah, thanks but no thanks. I’d like to keep at least a little of my dignity tonight.”

Joe frowned at her. “If you don’t like any of this stuff, why’d you even come?”

Oh god. Now he was really going to start something.

“Duh, free food. Free cake. Chance to make fun of Y/N. And I just couldn’t let this one go all alone,” Caitlin giggled, bumping Gwil with her shoulder. Gwil didn’t seem to share quite the same level of mirth, however, and you followed his nervous gaze to Joe, whose eyes were quickly narrowing.

“First of all, Gwil here was never told he could invite anyone. He wasn’t technically invited himself. Second of all, Y/N is my friend. And if you’re going to talk shit about my friend and her bomb-ass party, I’d rather you do it somewhere else.”

You started wracking your brain for ways you could infiltrate this conversation, get it to end without revealing that you had been eavesdropping. You texted Joe, telling him to call off the dogs, but he either didn’t feel his phone vibrate in his pocket or he was choosing to ignore it. You didn’t realize you were staring until Gwil’s eyes met your own and he smirked, prompting Caitlin and Joe to look over at you.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Gwil crooned, his eyes locked on you as you dragged yourself over to where they were, attempting to look as if you had just casually walked by.

“Y/N, hiiii!” Caitlin said sweetly, a distinct change from the sardonic tone she was using just seconds before. “Oh my god, what a great party. That cake was just to die for.”

“Oh, I’m soglad you’re enjoying it,” you replied through gritted teeth. “Isn’t this place just genius? It’s been so long since I’ve played arcade games like this.”

“Yes, well, it is kind of like Chuck-E-Cheese for adults, isn’t it?” Caitlin’s voice seemed to raise in pitch with every word.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, fake smile still plastered on. “Yeah! It’s so nice to still be able to relax and have fun every once in a while, isn’t it?”

Gwil and Joe were following your conversation like a tennis match, sensing a rising tension in your seemingly friendly exchange.

“For sure. Thanks somuch for the invite,”—don’t remember sending you one,you thought— “but unfortunately Gwil and I have to get going now, don’t we babe?”

Babe? So they were using pet names now? You wanted to vomit.

For once in his life, Gwil seemed hesitant. “I, uh—”

Joe cut in. “Aw, that’s too bad. Well, it was great to see you guys! See you for frisbee tomorrow, Gwil?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Well, it was great to see you, Y/N. Happy birthday!” Caitlin practically squealed as she walked away, pulling Gwil by the arm.

Joe waved at them and began to pull you in the opposite direction, but you caught Gwil glancing back at you as they walked toward the door.

“God, Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Fuck, I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I? I insisted on letting Gwil come and he just had to go and bring her, and then they have the nerve to say that shit right in front of you? I’m gonna kill him—”

“Joe. Stop. Breathe. It’s not your fault. If we’re going to blame anyone, it’s gonna be Gwil, ok? He knows how I feel about Caitlin and was still selfish enough to bring her along. That’s fucked up, but you didn’t know he would do it.”

“I know, but—”

“Joe, let’s just forget about this for now, okay? I’m gonna enjoy the rest of my night, not spend it being mad at Gwil.”

Joe took a deep breath. “You’re right. God, you’re too good for us, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m very aware.”

Joe laughed. “Okay, okay, your majesty. Now may I request a rematch of air hockey?”

“Hell yes. You are going down, Mazzello.”

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

After you had beat Joe savagely at several raucous games of air hockey, you snuck away for a breather. You were leaning against the bar, casually scrolling through Tumblr, when someone disrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” A British accent. Of course. What was he still doing here?

“I’m not particularly interested in anything you have to say.” You kept your eyes glued to your phone, but you weren’t really looking at it anymore, mainly wanting to appear indifferent to Gwil’s reappearance.

“I know. I just want to tell you that I’m sorry I brought Caitlin tonight. I…didn’t mean to start anything, I just…”

Any attempt to ignore Gwil went out the window. You put your phone in your pocket and looked him in the eye. Fuck, he has beautiful eyes. “You just what? You just thought it would be a great idea to bring the person I dislike the most to a party you weren’t even technically invited to?”

“Well—”

“Oh yes, please. I’d love to hear whatever convoluted justification you’ve come up with. Let’s have it.”

“I know it’s stupid and immature. I’m kicking myself for thinking it could ever work. But…well, I thought you might be…jealous. I thought maybe you would, I don’t know, be angry enough at her to want me for yourself. Or at the very least pay attention to me.”

You stared in disbelief, mouth ajar.

“God, I know, it sounds absolutely mad when I say it out loud. Look, I’ll drop it now, I just hope you understand that I’m really sorry.”

“You…are interested in me.”

“Um, yes.”

“Like, you like me.”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“And when being condescending and arrogant didn’t work, you thought you would use my ex-friend to piss me off, and I would end up wanting to be with you to get back at her.”

Gwil was silent.

“Where is Caitlin, anyway? I thought you left with her.”

“She did leave, but I told her I wanted to stay. She got mad. She left without me.”

You stared at him for a minute.

“Jesus…you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were.”

Then you grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the back room behind the bar.

“Wha—where are we—”

You shut the door behind you and backed him up against it.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

“Wait, you—you want—”

“God, yes, you stupid, beautiful piece of shit.”

Gwil seemed to suddenly snap out of his confusion and into make-out mode, putting one hand on the small of your back and one on the back of your head, pulling you up onto your tiptoes as he leaned down to kiss you. You put your hands on either side of his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks. His lips were warm, and you could faintly smell his cologne.

After a long few minutes of making out, you slid your hands down his chest and began to undo his belt. Gwil pulled back and put his hands over yours.

“Wait, you—are you sure about this?”

You looked up at him.

“Oh, I am absolutely sure. I know exactly what I want to do with you.”

Gwil shuddered and took his hands away from yours, reaching up into your shirt to undo your bra as you finished undoing his belt.

You moaned into Gwil’s mouth as your lips met again, his thumbs gently circling over your nipples.

You jerked Gwil’s pants and underwear down over his hips and pulled out his dick.

“Aaahhh…oh god,” he groaned, clearly trying to be quiet.

“That’s good, huh? I’ll make sure you feel so good,” you purred.

Gwil breathed heavily as you worked his cock, fumbling to get into your pants as well. Once he succeeded, he stuck his hand in, gasping at what he felt there.

“So wet, oh god.”

“Mmm, yes. Because of you. You made me this wet.”

Gwil clumsily crashed his lips back into yours as he began to rub your clitoris with his fingers. The other hand remained on your breast, brushing over your sensitive, aroused nipple.

You began to rut into his hand, a little embarrassed at how close you were already but wanting to come quickly. You were sure your guests were having a great time, but you wouldn’t want anyone concerned about your absence.

“Faster, Gwil, please.”

He began to move his hand faster, but you slowed yours down. “Mmmph, Y/N. More,” he said gruffly.

“No. Not yet. Make me—ah!—make me come first.”

Gwil’s hand practically vibrated off his body as he moved his hand firmly against your clit. You buried your face in his chest as you came, thrusting erratically against his hand.

“God…yes…so good…” you gasped in between breaths, riding out your orgasm until you couldn’t take any more, pulling Gwil’s hand out of your pants. You looked up at him with hooded eyes and guided his hand toward your face.

“Now, let me taste it.”

Gwil stared with wide eyes and put his fingers, dripping with your come, up to your mouth. You sucked his fingers clean, finally speeding up the hand you had around his cock.

“Oh Jesus, that’s hot.”

You smiled coyly, watching as Gwil’s face and neck began to flush a deep pink.

“I’m—I’m getting—close—”

You took your hand away suddenly.

“Now. You’re going to finish the job.”

Gwil stared at you dumbly.

“You heard me. You’re going to finish yourself off alone, in the utility room of a barcade, and walk out of this party alone. And then maybe you’ll remember this moment before you decide being an asshole to another woman is going to make her want to be with you.”

Gwil shuffled to the side awkwardly as you opened the door, staring at you in disbelief as you strolled back out to the bar. With a contented smile on your face, you headed to the bathroom to freshen up before enjoying the rest of your birthday party.

END

[eldritchsurveys]

428.

Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? >> I guess, yeah. I wear pretty much the same few things all the time, so it’s refreshing to be able to wear something different. But it can also be stressful because of, you know, dysphoria and shit. What brand of hair spray do you use? >> --- Do you like it when guys wear hats? >> I really have no opinion. Burger King, McDonalds or Wendys? >> I usually go for McDonald’s because their cheeseburgers are the neatest of the three, and they only put mustard and pickles on them. The Wendy’s restaurants around here make the sloppiest cheeseburgers, just too much mayo and ketchup everywhere, and the Burger Kings are just not as good either. Would you rather visit California or Flordia? >> It’s a real tossup. I think there’s something incredibly surreal about Florida as a whole and I really want to find out if that’s true, but I also think California could be fun to visit.

What’s your ideal first date? >> --- If you type for awhile, do your fingers start to hurt? >> Not at all. I guess because I’ve been typing since I was a child, so my fingers regard it as a natural thing to do (as opposed to a stressful thing). What do you smell right now? >> Pizza, because I haven’t put the pizza box in the fridge yet. Chinese or mexican food? >> Mexican. Can you play the drums? >> No. Are you the type of person who would study for a test for hours? >> I really am not. I have no patience or diligence for that kind of thing. All this Air in my chart really fucked me over when it comes to that, lmao. Are you a lazy person? >> No. I’m a person who sometimes has poor executive function, and a person who sometimes struggles to internalise the importance of doing certain unsavoury or boring things, and a person who has sensory difficulties that sometimes border on the neurotic. People who regard those facts as excuses will definitely try to label me “lazy”, but I refuse to insult myself because of the way I’m wired. I do my best with what I have. If you were an animal, what animal would you be? >> I mean, the canon answer is “a spider”. If you were an instrument, what would you be? >> A pipe organ. Do you hate when you’re in a good mood and one person ruins your mood? >> I don’t think of things like that. No one’s responsible for maintaining my mood but me. If I let someone else “ruin” my good mood, then that’s my problem. Are there any movies coming out that you’d like to see? >> I’m probably going to go see that Joker movie when it comes out. Because I’m in love with Joaquin Phoenix, or whatever. Shut up. Where do you buy your underwear? >> Whatever big-box store happens to have it in stock. Do you watch the show Switched at Birth? >> No. Do you hate the usual 100 questions surveys? EX: Eye color >> Sometimes. What’s worse: Rude people, two-faced people or fake people? >> I have a harder time dealing with someone who is being insincere than I do someone who is just rude.  Does your house have a doorbell? >> There’s a buzzer for this apartment. Do you know someone who has dropped out of high school? >> I used to. I don’t think anyone I currently know is a high school dropout. Can you juggle? >> No. Do you think you could run 3 miles right now? >> I can’t run 500 feet, dude. What color was the shirt you wore today before changing? >> I just wore a black undershirt, like usual. Does it freak you out when random people wave to you in public? >> I mean, that... doesn’t happen. Can you do the dougie? >> No. If you were to get a pet turtle right now, what would you name it? >> --- What’s your most hated commercial to watch? >> All of them, really. Can you do a handstand? >> No. What was the last thing you charged? >> My phone. Google Play Services had some kind of update within the last month that made it a complete and absolute battery hog, so now my phone constantly needs to be charged. I hope they fix it soon. Without looking, what time do you think it is? >> Quarter to seven. *looks* Oh, actually it’s quarter after seven. I tried. Favorite album? >> --- How many people named Josh do you know? >> No one, now. When you were younger, did you believe you could fly? >> No. Favorite farm animal? >> --- Have you ever been to a spa? >> Yeah. Has your Facebook ever been hacked? >> No. On a scale 1-10 how relaxed are you right now? >> I don’t know. I’m relaxed enough. Do you spell gray with an A or an E? >> An E, unless I’m talking about Dorian. What’s your favorite name that begins with B? >> --- How many of your friends on here are online? >> I don’t know. If your son said he was gay, how would you react? >> I literally don’t care what sexuality someone is, and anyone raised anywhere in my vicinity would know that. Apple cider or hot chocolate? >> Apple cider, 100%. If someone payed you $500 would you take a bath in milk? >> I doubt it. How many people have ever said you’re perfect? >> I don’t know, I wouldn’t remember shit like that because it’s so unrealistic that I assume it means nothing. Twitter, Tumblr or Facebook? >> Tumblr is the only site of the three that I still use. Do you enjoy having time to yourself? >> Absolutely. Can you do a cart wheel? >> Yeah. How many apps do you have on your phone/iPod? >> Way too fucking many, because there are a lot of baked-in apps that I just can’t delete. :| Do you like Ed Sheeran? >> No. Can you do ballet? >> No. When you were a teenager, did you used to say “I hate this house!”? >> I don’t recall ever saying that. Would you rather become an author or teacher? >> An author. Are you ever jealous of your best friend? >> --- How many people are you currently texting? >> Zero. Anything exciting coming up? >> Not in the very near future. What numbers does your password on here have? >> --- This time tomorrow, what will you be doing? >> I should be at Cafe Boba. Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? >> Either is fine. Have you ever been inside a recording studio? >> Yeah. Would you rather visit Mars or Neptune? >> Er... I mean, whichever one is most feasible to visit, which I assume would be Mars. I don’t think we even know how to make suits to withstand the environmental conditions of a planet that far away from the Sun... (do we?) Do you have Instagram? >> No. Does it bother you when people keep talking to you and you want to leave? >> Yeah, but nine times out of ten I just... make my exit. Have you ever texted a landline phone by accident? >> No. Does that even work? Have you ever spoken to a detective before? >> No. Do you like quotes about love or life better? >> Er... Do you have any quotes on your bedroom walls? >> No. What color is your garage? >> I don’t know, actually. I don’t think it’s painted on the inside. Have you ever played laser tag? >> No. Have you ever been to Cedar Point? >> No. How are your grades this year? >> --- Do you think you have a good singing voice? >> Sure. Do you like it when people give you compliments? >> I mean, sure. But it’s not necessary or anything. Do you crack under pressure? >> Not usually. Was your hair straight today? >> It never is. Do you believe in ghosts? >> No. Do you ever share things on Facebook? >> --- Do you pick out your outfits for the next day the night before or the AM? >> Considering how compact my wardrobe is, it’s really not difficult for me to just grab some clothes in the moment. I don’t have to plan my outfits or anything. Do you wear earrings? >> Yeah. Do you think Hershey chocolate is the best? >> No. What do you have first period? >> --- Do people depend on you too much? >> No. Have you ever been in love? >> Jury’s still out on that. I’m going to go with “probably not”. Do you hate being sad? >> Yeah, it’s not great. I get impatient with myself when I’m sad. But on the flip side, I get to be coddled by Can Calah for a while, so it’s not all bad. Is anyone you’re close to in the hospital right now? >> No. Do you have any cuts on you right now? >> No. Do you like Steve Carell? >> I have no opinion on him. Is your wifi protected? >> Yeah. What did you have for lunch today? >> I only had two meals today. How often do people write on your Facebook wall? >> --- Does your phone have a cover on it? >> Yeah, just a black rubber case. What color was your swim suit this year? >> --- How many bedroom does your house have? >> Two. Would you go swimming if it was 65 degrees out? >> I don’t go swimming, period. Favorite flavor of popsicle? >> --- Do ladders scare you? >> Not usually. Would you ever lie about your past? >> I can’t imagine why I would want to, but who knows. Hot dogs or hamburgers? >> Hamburgers. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends in your bedroom? >> No. 

[newsiegirlscout]

A Summer of the Ages

Hey-yo! I’m sorry to say this is my “finale” of sorts to Captain Underpants fanfiction, but my-oh-my, was it a ride. 

This is a continuity to all my previous fanfictions: Last One Chosen, Of Rooks and Pawns, (Commission), and Nerdsitting. 

Without further ado....onto the fic!

In every neighborhood, there’s bound to be a house with a child nobody really knew growing up. It wasn’t that he kept to himself, necessarily-in fact, you and he probably went to the same school, crafted the same bird feeders, and wished on the same dandelions. It’s just that, well....he was certainly not of the same kind.

Sometimes you have to be your own hero, because sometimes the people you can’t live without can live without you.

Behind him, the door swung open unceremoniously and hit the side of his desk. The boy tensed, instinctively pressing his hand against the spine of his novel.

“Hey, Melvin.”

Behind him stood the not-terribly-surprising figures of his acquaintances, George and Harold.

Melvin bristled visibly as he pulled a strand of his hair and marked his place.

“Beard. Hutchins. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Harold looked at him blankly until his accomplice punched him in the arm.

“Dude. He means, what the heck are we doing here. But in adult language.”

“Oh….OHHHHHHHH. Okay. We kinda left your garage door open after we destroyed a few dozen timelines. It’s like, two days later and you still haven’t noticed, so we figured you were either reading or dead.” he shrugged, “Anyhow. Wanna come hang out?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Harold began briefly before George cut him off midword.

“It’s summer vacation, genius! You might have heard of it. It means you don’t have to think anymore.”

He sighed and put his hands up in mock-defeat, a smile playing in his hazel eyes.

“Alright, then. I’m bringing my book, though.”

###################################

“Sooooo, do ya’ like her?” Harold giggled.

Melvin cocked his head to the side in an expression of pure confusion. “Whom?”

“Stephanie, of course! You’ve been cow-eying her like, all year! Remember when she did that presentation on Madame Curie and you fell out of your chair?”

The redhead’s face flushed a cherry-blossom pink.

“I simply forgot to clean my glasses that day….her presentation was one of the best, and I was trying to get a better view of her visual aids and diagrams. I was leaning forward, and my chair slipped.”

His companion raised one eyebrow.

“Melv. C’mon. You go cross-eyed when you lie. George? Is that a penalty?”

Beside him, he raised his hand and shook it slightly.

“Yeah, sorry, man. Mr. Hutchins?” he laughed, getting to one knee and bringing his hand to his chest as akin to a high-class businessman placing an order.

“Yes, Mr. Beard?” he replied through his bubbling laughter, returning the gesture.

“Would you kindly retrieve the Deactivation Sequence?”

Harold tittered softly and shook his head, casting a last glance towards his friend. “Awwww, sorry, dude.”

“Wait….what are you two up to?”

The neighborhood was filled with an anguished howl.

In the treehouse, Melvin sat shivering, drenched head to foot in ice water. His bangs plastered to his forehead, he tried in futility to dry his glasses for a minute or two before giving up.

“I hate you both.”

They chuckled while the evening breeze lightly rustled the wind chimes in the yard.

“Love ya’ too, Melvin.”

###########################

The cheery sounds of INDY 500 racers, laser rifles, and the occasional chime of a winning score ran through the arcade. Behind the duo of notorious Piqua fame, their bespectacled associate was being led blindfolded across the kaleidoscopically patterned carpet to, as it seemed to be, a particular location.

Once at arrival, George twirled him by the hand into a ballroom-style embraced dip, then flamboyantly removed his blindfold to reveal the gaily-colored interior of the Midway Tesla arcade reservation space.

“George and Harold, there are 171, 476 words in the current English language and none of them can describe how much I continue to be utterly bewildered at your antics. Should I ask why you decided to reserve an arcade’s solitary non-vociferous room out of occasion?”

In unison, the two turned to each other blankly.

“I’m gonna pretend you asked why we got the party room even though it’s not our birthdays.” said Harold, bouncing happily on one foot, “And the answer is, we have our ways.”

Taking Melvin’s scrawny wrist in his own, he peered at the time and released him, pulling light-blue visors emblazoned with pixelated lightning bolts from his bookbag and passing one to George. Beside him, he thanked his friend, withdrew their trademark sunglasses and name tags (on multicolored lanyards, of course) from his pocket, and passed the yellow-and-green patterned badge to Harold.

No more than perhaps a minute later after they’d clambered onto the nearest table, a lanky counselor with frizzly chestnut hair, a smattering of scruff about his features and a pinstriped button-up shirt came in.

“Boys.” he said plainly, tipping down his sunglasses in amusement.

“Walter.” they replied, returning the gesture prior to tucking their Ray-Bans into their pockets.

The three bumped fists with their coworker, turned, kicked the flats of their shoes together, slapped alternate hands, repeated with the converse digits, and lifted their hands as if celebrating a team accomplishment.

“So, we’ve got a special-”, Walter said, then burst into laughter and wiped a tear from his eye, “Sorry, I just...I just love how you two stand on a table to get eye contact with me. That’s like, a zillion shades of awesome. Anyhow. We’ve got a dozen kids coming in for a Cartoon Network Block Party theme, and we need to make sure we’ve got the wheelchair ramp, restocked the prize counter, and cleaned the syrup container. You guys got that?”

“Got’cha covered.” George called back, “Walt, if you get the syrup, we’ll work on the decorations and prize counter.”

“Sure thing, captain.” the teen replied, sending a salute to the boys. Withdrawing a rag from his back pocket, he whistled an eight-bit melody and headed towards the back counter.

Harold kicked the wheelchair access into place, then joined his companion whispering something that appeared to be of humor judging from the hushed laughter emanating from the pastel-papered supply cabinet.

“Em...hello?” asked Melvin tentatively, stopping only to nudge the ramp a quarter-inch to the left, “May I ask what you find so amusing?”

A wide gap-toothed grin spread across Harold’s features, and he leaned over to ruffle Melvin’s hair. (He, however, in response, was quick to swat his hand in all seriousness.) “Welcome to your first day on the job, Melv. At least, you’re gonna help us. We need these posters and streamers and stuff hung up, so George gets the Powerpuffs, I’m on Foster’s Home, and you….”

George tossed him a poster tube and a set of vials, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“...You get Dexter.” he finished.

###########################

“Ladies and gentlemen!”, George announced, tapping the microphone clipped to his collar, “Hello, and welcome, to Dav’s birthday party!”

A cheer spread through the room until Harold stepped closer to the host, a boy about four feet tall with a wide grin spread across his features.

“How old are you, Dav?”

“I’m ten! Who’s the new guy?”

The boy laughed. “Ah, ten. Good year. As for your other question, this is Melvin. Little short, but you know, he recently got crushed under all his books. Guess he’s only got his shelf to blame.”

From the back, a few of the kids giggled. Behind the duo, Melvin leaned back on the table, unamused. Harold wasted no time in reaching back, and, with a flick of his wrist, escorting his friend forward.

“Mel, kindly greet these children. Stop being antisocial club president.”

He raised his hand slowly in a wave, then retired it to his side.

“I’m not antisocial, I’m just not user-friendly.”

George, opposite them, took the opportunity to tap his mike and rejoin the chaos.

“You know, Melvin does make horrible science puns, but only periodically. He might act like a solitary bird, but really, he’s thrilled. It’s really hootiful. Dav, you know any card tricks?”

Dav giggled and shook his head, eyes brightening when George produced a hand of cards.

“Alright, pick a card, any card!”

He complied.

“Now another…..and another…..”

After a moment or two, the young boy frowned.

“Hey, you asked if I knew any card tricks!”

George grinned. “And neither do I. But I think I know something that’ll make you Snicker….”

“Ah, sweet!” the boy cheered, taking a bite of the treat.

“Glad to see you smile, Davey Jones.” George giggled, “As to the rest of you dorks, we’re proud to announce that the arcade! Is! OPEN!”

A cheer went up amongst the crowd, and Melvin shrugged and made his way to the front past the barrage of children, handing them each a roll of tokens as if arming them for combat.

“Let your plans be as dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.” he quoted seriously with an edge of a grin.

When the last of the children left--a disabled girl with bouncy strawberry curls, Andrea--turned back, grinned, and saluted.

######################################

Back in the treehouse, the impromptu arcade counselors breathed a deep sigh of exhaustion in unison.

Looking up from his book, Walter chuckled. “I still can’t believe you seriously invited me over. Nice place you guys got, of course, but like…..I’m seventeen….don’t you have a ‘no-adults’” policy?”

Harold glared suspiciously towards him from the cooler in the back corner.

“Hey, Walt, adulthood, if you haven’t noticed, is kind of a choice over here. What I can’t believe is that Iris and Andrea actually got the big alien. Ten thousand points, right?”

“Fifteen.”, George called from the beanbag he appeared to have melted into, “That thing was almost as big as Andrea.”

“Dannnng….almost wouldn’t be surprised if it ate her. Good job, Team Fullmetal. George, Walt, Melvin? You guys thirsty?”

A fatigued sound of acclamation rang from all three corners of Tree House Comix, Inc.

“Sweet, alright. Sprites all around. Good job, team. Ice cream bars are, of course, coming...Walter, do you want Jake? Or Finn? Or are you a Cookie Cat kind of man?”

From a grave of pillows, he threw up his hand, gave a point, and a thumbs-up.

“You know it, my dudes. How many others memorized the entire thing and wrote like, five parodies pertaining to each of the Gems?”

Harold giggled softly and began to descend down the rope ladder.

“See, Cinders? This! This is why you’re with us!”

A pillow struck him weakly, but with accuracy.

“However big, however small, glad to be part of it all, Bubbles.”

Melvin looked back towards the teenager with an expression, though not the first, of utter confusion.

“Explain….please….?”

Walter sighed happily.

“Walter goes into Walt, which goes into Waltz. Waltzes are for Ballrooms, and Cinderella was famous for losing her slipper on the halls. Ergo, Cinders. And Harold…..well, you’ll see.”

Melvin cleaned his glasses on his shirt, then leaned back once more, flipping through his book to the mark.

“I shall never understand your kind, dear sir.”

“Frankly, the beauty of it…..is that neither will I.”

A few pages later, Harold swung into view, his left arm cradled to his chest.

“Gentlemen, I present….your prince!”

With a bounce in his step, he passed out the various ice cream bars to his comrades, stopping at Melvin with an unbranded ice cream sandwich and rubbing his arms sheepishly.

“Sorry, man. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so….”

He chuckled.

“Actually, this is perfect.”

“Alright!”, he cheered, joining his spot, “Powerpuff Girls?”

“Powerpuff Girls!” Walter echoed.

“Powerpuff Girls!” George followed enthusiastically.

“Uh…..Powerpuff Girls?” Melvin shrugged.

“Powerpuff Girls!”

George laughed zealously. “Commander Cheeseball, ready the VCR?”

“Signal given, second lieutenant Fluffy.”

“Guys….”, he turned, addressing the room, “It’s gonna get wild. Powerpuff Girls film in action!”

######################################

Late in the prime of the summer afternoon a week later, George was mildly startled to see a pale hand emerge from beneath the treehouse, put a call bell on the edge of the floor, and courteously double-ring it.

“Melvin, man, you can just come in.” Harold responded, cornflower blue eyes barely flickering from the image he was immersed in coloring.

“Well, some people-”, came the call from below them as their nerdy compatriot struggled to gain purchase on the rope ladder, one arm unavailable, “-weren’t raised to break into their classmate’s houses.”

Upon reaching the interior, he stood, revealing the formal charcoal suit and bow tie he was wearing, carded his fingers through his ginger hair, and shifted the sizable package occupying most of his strength to his hip.

“Stephanie’s birthday is today. Suit up.”

George sighed, and straightened his tie impulsively.

“Wait….June eighteenth? That’s today? Harold, when was the last time we looked at a calendar?”

Beside him, the boy in turn shrugged. “George, it’s summer vacation. You’re such a Melvin.”

“....I’m not even going to question that. She invited everyone in her homeroom, which includes you two, and yes, it is indeed June eighteenth. Since we only have two hours, I’m….”

George beamed.

“Oh, my goodness. Harold, please, find a calendar and mark this down. Melvin needs our help.”

The blond chuckled.

“I’m going to stand strong in my belief that you like-like her. Sooooo…..what’s in the bag? And do you seriously need help talking to girls? Are you allergic to like, fun or anything? And by ‘suit up’, you mean swimsuit, right?”

“I plead the fifth amendment. I’m allergic to dander, but I happen to know that she has a parakeet. I would bring a change of clothes if I were you, because you always show up at formal parties dressed in the zeitgeist. Finally, I heard her say once that she loves humor, so I did some research and brought ‘A Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’, and a few other personal favorites of mine…..’The End of Mr. Y’, ‘She Kills Monsters’, and ‘Radio Silence’....and a ten-dollar heart-shaped Starbucks gift card, if that’s….not too straightforward….”

He flushed scarlet and scraped the toe of his dress shoe against the pine floor, his voice barely above a whisper.

Harold grinned, then burst into teary-eyed laughter.

A second later, George followed.

For once, Melvin Sneedly was silent.

“Okay…..okay, man…..yeah, it’s okay to get her a heart Starbucks gift card. I promise, she’ll love it.” George said, wiping tears from his eyes and sighing his last, dangerously close to bursting into laughter once more.

“I’m going to assume you’re both prepared, and didn’t have plans to attend every formal event in t-shirts and shorts, if I may be so bold.”

George and Harold looked at each other with identical expressions of perplexity.

“.........”

###################################

“Melvin, why do you hate us?” Harold asked mournfully, tugging at his starched collar.

“Because that’s how you make an impression.” he responded instantly, somehow shifting the bag containing his change of clothes and the oversized present to the crook of his arm in one fluid movement purely to look at them over his glasses smugly.

From the walkway, a flag stuck out from the house like a full invitation, a cow’s nose pressed comically close to the viewer. The faint air of a catchy song (of which no one had ever managed to learn the lyrics) emanated from the yard, and a rainbow of balloons decorated the back gate.

Jumped in the cab,

Here I am for the first time

Look to my right and I see the Hollywood sign

This is all so crazy

Everybody seems so famous

George grinned and poised one finger on the latch.

“What’ya say, Mel? Ready to step into the unknown?”

Melvin straightened his bow tie and rubbed his palms on his waistcoat.

“Of course.”

################################################

Unbeknownst to the trio, across the yard, Stephanie sat cross-legged between her friends, eying the glass doors behind them warily.

Jessica Gordon giggled, trying in futility to smother her giggles and ending up looking more like she was attempting to eat her hand. “Okay, Stephers….truth or dare or don’t?”

“Don’t. Wow, guys. Thanks for playing. Are you going to give me a hand setting up the craft table?”

“Awwww, Steph, you always pick don’t.” Wendy Swan giggled.

Stephanie smirked and deftly threw a block of glycerin and a pocketknife into her friend’s arms.

“That’s what happens when you make the unwanted an option. What incredibly weird and personal question did you want to ask me?”

Jessica fell back on the lawn, followed shortly by her friend.

“Geez, that’s a bit anticlimactic.”

“Can you be anticlimactic while shredding the glycerin and sorting out the soap dyes and oils and stuff? We’re going to make rainbow soap…..assuming you crazy wyverns can organize a table.”

Jessica giggled, stuck out her tongue, and began dividing the glycerin base.

“Okay. Be honest with us…..do you like Melvin?”

“Melvin? Uh, you mean like Melvin Sneedly? With the cardigan and the bow tie, fourth-period science?”

“How many Melvins do you know? You’ve been blushing around him, like, all year! Remember that time you did that presentation on Marie Curie, and he like, fell out of his chair?”

Stephanie fiddled with her hair clip.

“He simply forgot to clean his glasses that day…..I’m sure he was just trying to get a better look at my visual aids and diagrams. His prescription is pretty blurry at points, you know.”

“Awwwww, c’mon, dude. You crinkle your nose when you lie. Jessica? Is that a penalty?”

The strawberry blond giggled and nodded. “Sorry, Stephanie. Miss Swan?”

“Yes, Miss Gordon?”

“Will you kindly retrieve the Decommission Progression?”

Wendy laughed and, with a skip of her heel, ran into the house. Stephanie put down her craft knife and fidgeted with her shirt cuffs.

“Wait…..what are you two up to?”

An anguished howl tore through the neighborhood.

Stephanie shivered and rubbed her shoulders, her hair flat and plastered to her face as she sat drenched in ice water.

“You guys are so immature.”

##############################################

So hard with my girls not around me

It’s definitely not a Nashville party

Cause' all I see are stilettos

I guess I never got the memo

“Oh, hey! Melvin!” Stephanie said, giving a swift and sideways cuff to her companion’s shoulder, “George, Harold, the infamous Tree House Comix. Inc…..what’s up? You look nice!”

“Are we early?”, George inquired, shifting his and Harold’s gift to his hip.

“Fortunately, yes. And these dryads don’t seem to want to help set up, so if you could, that would be totally awesomesauce. Gift table’s-” she jerked back with her thumb, “-kind of the giant hamper thing, and if you want to change, the bathroom’s the second door on the left. My uncle’s working on the water slide, but I really need some help with the gift bags and snack bar.”

Wendy cartwheeled over. “Wow, rude. I guess it’s hard to be friends with me, ‘cuz I’m so awesome.”

“Wendy, I love you, but I also don’t trust you with unsupervised amounts of candy.”

Harold, now dressed in a cherry-red shirt with a notable star emblem and swim shorts, nudged the cheerleader out of the way.

“You can trust me!”

Stephanie stepped into the shaded square, knelt under the tables, and slammed a five-pound bag of gummy bears onto the table.

“Let’s get to work, then.”

######################################################

So I put my hands up

They're playing my song,

And the butterflies fly away

Noddin' my head like, yeah

Movin' my hips like, yeah

I got my hands up,

They're playin' my song

You know I'm gonna be okay

Yeah, it's a party in the USA

Yeah it's a party in the USA

“Alright!” Jessica giggled, “I think everything’s actually ready! Steph, wanna form the teams?”

In response, she just giggled and blew a single note on the tin whistle around her neck, turning the attention of all the partygoers.

“Atten-TION! Alight like a sparrow and fall like a hawk, because we’re about to have full battle! Partygoers, strap your water pistols and arm your balloons, because it’s going to be brutal. Take. No. Prisoners. Teams will be decided by your awesome captains, me and Tommy.”

“Hmmm?” said a freckled brunette in the back with a timid smile.

“Yeah! Tommy, come on up here! Granted, my team is kind of going to crush you, but it’s nice to be powerful, isn’t it?”

He chuckled and climbed onto the picnic table, striking a mock-pose. “Yeah, I’m feeling it.”

“Sweet. To start off with, I’m taking Sugar. Sugar N. Spice.”

“Oh, so you’re just going to take my best friend? Two can play, Wykoff.”, Tommy said, grinning maliciously, “Jessica Gordon.”

“George Beard.”

“Wendy Swan.”

“Harold Hutchins.”

“Iris Patrick Harris.”

“Andrea Morris.”

“Mac Turtledove.”

“Melvin Sneedly.”

“.....Katherine Taylor. ”

“This…..is battle.” she said, clapping her hands, “We have five minutes to work out our strategy. Let’s go.”

############################################

“Did anyone ever tell you that water balloons aren’t supposed to be full of paint?”

“War is the most readily available form of chaos. Or are you calling Tommy’s Last Stand?.”

“Laws are silent in times of war.”

###############################################

Stephanie, although smudged with at least seven different forms of glitter, smiled as she plucked a pair of dice out of her hair.

“Well that….could have gone better.” she said, leaning an elbow on the craft table, “But man, we hit Gettysburg with that vinegar flank and baking soda ambush. What’cha making?”

Harold smiled. “Rainbow soap, of course. Is it okay if I take one of those giant dot-to-dot thingies with me for later?”

Stephanie flapped her hand in his general direction. “Oh yeah, it’s highly recommended. So….Avengers or Justice League? Or are you a Big Hero 6 kind of guy?”

“Avengers, all the way. But you are totally, like, more Honey Lemon than Captain America, so I’m guessing you’re a Bay-Maximum Rider?”

“Yeah, chemistry and physics are the two key elements to making everything scientifically awesome. Just….if everything has order….it’s better, y’know?”

“Steph, I don’t think you’re allowed to say that with an entire water slide and pool in your backyard. That is the gear of someone who flies at the moment.”

“Well…..generally, I plan things out, map out the possibilities from that moment, and choose the best one. Like, how can I prevent allergic emergencies? By finding all the natural allergens in all the snacks and labeling them, duh. Clear space, clear mind.”

“You must think…..really fast. But what if you flip a coin and it lands on the edge?”

“Harold, that’s a one in six-thousand chance, even for a typical American nickel.”

“Okayyyyy, well…..if you flip this coin and it lands on the edge,” Harold said, digging into the pocket of his swim trunks for the desired coin, “You have to do something crazy and unexpected.”

Stephanie chuckled and cuffed his shoulder “Okay, yeah, sure. And if it lands on either side?”

“I’ll do something totally characteristic, by which I mean awesome.”

“Let’s go, then.” she said, edging the coin on her fisted thumbnail and releasing it.

Immediately as it hit the table, it spun gradually, then rested on its edge.

Stephanie climbed onto the picnic table once more and blew her whistle.

“In light of Harold Huchins being the craziest boy alive, the rest of this party is set in a Victorian era, with the pool as a lake and the slides as aqueducts. Cow chicka wow wow, that’s what my baby says.”

Harold gave her a high-five.

At no point did she see the magnet he had placed under the table be palmed back to his pocket.

############################################################

“There’s no way”, George finished, “she actually already had that whole, like, wedding cake with roses and gold dust and stuff ready to go.”

Harold grinned. “Eh, it was still unexpected at the time. Maybe she just made the theme off the cake.”

“Yeah, the period-accurate silk sponge cake she just happens to have, while literally everything else here is Marvel-themed.”

“Boo!”

“Gyahhhhh…..oh, hey, it’s just you. I kind of thought it was someone I needed to worry about.” George joked, “What’s up?”

“I’m just about to open the presents, so, if you guys want to bail or stay, now would be a really good time to decide.” Stephanie said, her dark hair now cascading across her shoulders in wet, frizzy, waves and a smile playing across her chocolate-brown eyes--

“Yeah, it’s cool. We want to see your reactions! Trust me, you’re going to love Melvin’s present.” George said, winking at his bespectacled friend slyly.

“Oh! Sweet! Well, my obligin’s to you!”

With a stamp of her heel, she was off. A small crowd of adults and children gathered behind her, but she, for the most part, seemed to prefer a staged approach.

“Of course,” she said, addressing the crowd, “I have the highest of thanks to all of you, of which it may be unbecoming of a lady to showcase, so you must excuse my manners. At this time, I find it best to open the lovely gifts and laurels you all have been so dear to present, and at the next stroke of the clock, we shall have a marvelous parting. My farewell, in a more physical form, if you wish to claim it at this time, is by the snack table. So, first off for presents…..I’m going to check out this big one from Melvin.”

She spent a few minutes removing the galaxy-themed aesthetic wrapping paper from the package, and her eyes lit up.

“Oh, hey, cool! She Kills Monsters! I don’t think I’ve read these…..sweet! Thanks, Melvin!”

Then, with a raised eyebrow, she glanced at the edge of the box.

“What’s this?”

Melvin held his breath.

“Oh, nice, a sliding block puzzle! And the spring-thingy…..there’s something inside, right? So if I just rotate this, and slide this part over here….”

A few moments later, the final latch clicked, and the girl grinned.

“Alright! What is it?”

Beside the others, Melvin Sneedly fainted.

######################################################

“Hey….dude, wake up.”

The boy rubbed his eyes. “Do I….want to know?”

Stephanie giggled. “Yeah, you probably do. See, I got this boss Starbucks gift card from a nerd and he died. So now he’s totally in my dad’s office, because there’s a lot to be said for a family of medical practitioners. Everybody else left like, an hour ago, including your friends, sorry, man. Do you want your parents to pick you up?”

“Uh….I think I’ll walk, thanks.”

Stephanie scooted forward and hopped off the box she was sitting on. “Ah, dude! Can I walk you home? I’ve never seen your house, anyway...is it like, a mansion or something? Or an apartment?”

“As I told the last people who asked that exact same question, it’s actually a pretty ordinary house, and it’s a two-hour walk….but I’d be delighted for your company.”

Stephanie laughed and hooked her arm into his. “Well, then, I shall be gladsome.”

###############################################################

One July seventh summer afternoon, George beamed and plunged his hands wrist-deep into multicolored slime.

“Harold, please, tell your mom I apologize for using all her laundry detergent.”

“....She’ll be fine.”

The call bell rang, and the blond rolled his eyes.

“You know the drill, nerdsaurus.”

A minute later, their companion clambered into the treehouse and cleared his throat.

“...Do I want to know what you’re doing?”

Harold nudged a tub of fluffy canary-yellow slime towards Melvin with his foot.

“Yes, actually. Yes, you do.”

“.........”

“Oh, this is really satisfying.”

George grinned. “Told ya’.”

############################################################

Meanwhile, no more than a few miles away, Principal Krupp begrudgingly knotted his tie and handed a concoction of lemonade and raspberry syrup to the new science teacher.

“I can’t say I remember hiring you, but I must admit, you’ve won the title.”

“And vhat title might this be?” said Professor Poopypants, extracting one of his hands from a similar tub of bright blue slime to take the drink.

“Edith? Do you want to explain this?” he said, glancing at the lunchlady.

“Ah, well….”, her voice rose an octave, and she smoothed her apron down, pausing only to take her cherry syrup, Sprite, and lemon concoction, “You gotta understand, Melvin’s really a nice kid…”

“Ah, zat suck-up. Yah, I vemember him. We have ze same online Dungeons and Dragons campaign.”

Edith looked over the rim of her glass as she took a sip. “An’ you know how he’s always talkin’ about getting into them Ivy Leagues, so he’ll do anything for extra credit, right?”

“Yah, yah, vhat’s your point?”

“Well, some of the less-well-meanin’ teachers make it a game to see what they can get Melvin to do for extra credit. Mr. Krupp used to be the reigning champion, but you took all this year with ‘assist in a full-frontal lobotomy.’”

“I suppose he is starting next year vith a 4.5 GPA…..but does that mean I have to give extra credit to George and Harold, too? They’re probably already setting fire to something as ve speak.”

“Aw…..sir, they’re also pretty well-hearted kids if you know ‘em, and they’re Melvin’s best friends. Surely, one of them is the voice of reason among all that, right?” Edith said, looking hopeful.

################################################################

Back at the one and only Tree House Comix inc, Holly Hutchins gasped and turned to the boys playing cards in her living room.

“Did you three use all my laundry detergent?”

Harold blushed. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Wow, I’m not even mad, I’m just….I’m just surprised.” she said, laughing, “I don’t suppose you’re looking for more ideas, are you?”

Harold shrugged. “Yeah, we’ll take ‘em.”

Then, as an afterthought, “As long as you don’t want us to dust or wash the windows or something.”

Ms. Hutchins laughed again. “Watch it, mister. No, I just saw these shell-shaped candles online and thought that I’d really like one or two. You guys can use a burner, right? After all, I am counting on at least one of you to be the voice of reason.”

“You’ve got it. Boys, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

################################################################

“Were we supposed to do something at these faculty meetings?” Ms. Anthrope inquired, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

“Yes. We were supposed to have drinks and gossip about the students behind their sun-tanned freckled backs.” said Poopypants, folding in his hand of cards and raking in a small fortune of chocolate coins.

“Ah. Well, Tommy’s too quiet. It’s weird when kids are too quiet.” responded Ms. Anthrope boisterously, leaning back.

“Seriously?” said Mr. Krupp, glaring at the narrator  giggling nervously who doesn’t know how to write gossip and such and thus decided it would be a good time for a scene jump. 

################################################################

“Why does your mom even have a reactive steel pot?” George said, warily glancing at the flickering flames, “Flour puts out stuff like this, right? Electrical fires?”

Melvin shoved George into the opposite counter.

“My friend, if you would like to graduate without third-degree burns, I’d get water.”

Harold fidgeted with his shirt sleeve. “This is a grease fire, right? With the candle scented oils and stuff? I think we’d get in trouble if we managed to spread it.”

George shrugged. “You know, once my uncle told me there was a special fire extinguisher for that…..Harold, do you-”

“We don’t even have a fire extinguisher, man! And paraffin is like, a cooking fat, not an oil, so I’m not even sure it’ll work!”

“Okay….” George said, biting his lower lip, “But we can smother any fire, right?”

The paisley towel caught aflame.

At that moment, Holly Hutchins arrived, gasped, and threw baking soda on the flames.

“....You’re all grounded.”

###########################################################

By July’s end, fireflies danced in the night sky with a hint of chlorine and lemongrass.

“Hey! Are you two there?”

George slid down the oak tree’s limb and landed on the grass.

“Why, yes we are. And who might you be?”

A small girl with thick glasses, ginger hair curling around her shoulders, and a distinct professional appearance despite her age faced them.

“My brother really ought to have mentioned me, but, for our acquaintance, my name is Ciana Sneedly. May I presume that you two are the troublemakers he’s been seeing as of late?”

Harold giggled. “Wow, troublemakers. Miss Sneedly, I am blushing.”

George took a theatrical bow. “The troublemakers in person. You sound like your brother before we taught him not to talk like that. What’s up?”

“Melvin sent me to tell you two that he’s at a convention, but he’ll see you next week.”

George’s shoulders dropped. “Awwww….that’s the last day of summer. What convention is it, anyway?”

“Don’t even try. He actually has a guest speaker position with a Mr. McCracken.”

Harold’s eyes brightened. “Ciana, would this man’s first name happen to be Craig?”

“I believe so.”

“Miss Sneedly, please, come inside. I think we’ll get along very well indeed.”

##############################################################

By the last day of the summer, Melvin arrived and unloaded a bag of spare machinery parts onto a blanket.

“I think you two are actually going to like this…..because I just got an ignitor battery at the convention, so, in other words, we have a model rocket.”

George and Harold grinned and high-fived their companion.

“Dude, that’s awesome.”

“I know.”

################################################################

By the hour’s stroke, all three of them were smudged with grease and sweat, but the rocket was complete.

And it was glorious.

And its final streak of color as it exploded in the evening sky was breathtaking.

#############################################################

Flight 2-765, Ohio to Massachusetts, now boarding.

Melvin Sneedly, as now a seventeen-year-old graduate of Jerome Horwitz High School, grinned towards the duo and tugged his suitcase off the bench.

“That’s my call, you two troublemakers.”

Harold laughed. “Yeah, MIT, right? I hear that’s the school for nerds who don’t set fires to their kitchens.”

Melvin winked. “Hey, that only happened once. And in our defense, your mother really shouldn’t have steel pots in her kitchen. Say we saved her a shopping trip.”

George facepalmed. “Mel, she was already out shopping. We used all the laundry detergent.”

“Guess we should have told her to get a Grade K fire extinguisher while she was out.

Vous êtes deux fous. Je suis honoré d'être considéré comme votre ami.”

And with a final sleight of hand, he was gone.

In a Piqua bedroom window, a mechanical train passed softly on its tracks.

FIN

##########################################

Acknowledgements: 

OCs are Walter Ashton, Andrea Morris, and Iris Patrick Harris. All the others you see here and don’t recognize are likely minor characters. 

Thanks to @kitkat1003​, my editor! (Her OC, Katherine Taylor, makes a brief cameo)

A special extension of gratitude would have to go to @thefangirlingcartoongal​; I guarantee, the first prompts came from conversations with her.

Obligings to @memeberd​; if you see a headcanon in here, it’s probably his.

@wiffanywhiff​, welcome to the fandom!

So, to all of you, and all of my readers, and even just anyone new to the fandom....goodbye, and thanks for all the fish. Farewell!

[bothkindsofbeans]

3/23/18

It's Friday, and it's also Earth, Wind, and Please Set Me on Fire So That I May Burn Away The Wickedness of this Terrible Earth from My Soul day. I don't know what it is about today, but I'm at a loss for patience, mostly due to other people's impatience. I even allowed myself an extra hour of sleep this morning just so I could be fresh and rested for today's shenanigans, but I'm already on my 4th cup of coffee and at wit's end. At least in a few hours it will all be over, and then maybe I can work on catching up with everything tomorrow when it's bound to be less busy.  

The vacant east wing of the mall is beginning to look like some kind of post-apocalyptic ruins more than it does a shopping mall. Lots of bare concrete, debris, and pillars make it look like a really cool place to play laser tag or something. That's a pretty sweet idea, right? That's how we'll save the Grand Avenue Mall, by turning it into one big bitchin' laser tag arena. Or paintball. Or some kind of LARP shit.

I know one person I'd want on my team in laser tag, and that's The Game. He seems like he'd be a team player, which is important. You can't have people going rogue if you want to complete the objective. HOLY SHIT. I am suddenly now reminded of a series of Capture the Flag games played in the woods behind my parents house about 14 years ago that involved very large teams. I was the captain of one team because I knew the terrain the best, and we were called THE BEANS. Wow. That completely escaped my mind until right now as I write this review. Let me tell you, The Beans always won... I would end up going on to date the opposing team's captain for a couple years, but I don't think we could ever get past our differences from the CTF days. It all amounted nothing, just like so much effort in this world. Our respective armies had fought so hard and sacrificed so much, and I don't think we could ever get past that. Things are still civil, of course. 

As I approached the counter in the empty food court today, The Game said "flour burrito, brown rice, both beans?" and I was like, "hell yeah." He loaded up the beans and rice just how I like it. I was honestly impressed that he was able to fit the whole thing into one tortilla. I thought for sure he was going to need to go for the double, but that's not how it played out. It wasn't the nicest wrap, but it held together. As I mentioned last time, Qdoba gifted me a free chips and guacamole for buying a burrito over the weekend of the Feast of St. Patrick, but I decided not to cash in on that offer today when I saw how big he was making my burrito. I'll save it for another time. I don't need those extra calories today... or probably ever. I'm starting to feel my age, friends. I'm not sure how long I can keep up this lifestyle before I start getting fat...

One more important announcement, it's the boss's birthday this weekend! I know very few of you know her or appreciate her like I do, but maybe wish her a happy birthday in your hearts. She's the only reason you're reading my dumb bullshit about laser tag, capture the flag, and The Beans right now. Just put that energy out in the universe. Happy Birthday, Hannah!

Weight: 745 grams (26.30 oz)

[sansammy]

Baaaabe buddy for the "talk about": 5+8+17+32? Pretty pls? 😁

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

5: Talk about the best birthday you’ve had.The best birthday I had was probably when I went bowling with a bunch of my friends- I think this was back in like 2013? The thing was I had at first invited a bunch of people to play laser tag, like 20 of them: like my friends, some classmates and whatnot but not enough people responded. At first I got really disappointed and said, “fuck it, we’ll just bowl instead”. I was kind of nervous and scared that it was just gonna be reallllllly boring because those that HAD responded were really looking forward to the laser tag, but we ended up having so much fun anyways and after we had finished our games, we went out to eat at Subway. Like, we’re just high schoolers, we couldn’t afford some gourmet buffé shit lol. We had started out as 10 but we were like 8 or 7 by the time we were going to eat because it was getting late. When we got to the Subway, the place was empty so we pushed all the tables together in the middle so we could all sit in like this one big circle and we were messing around and having fun and the staff just sort of watched us and laughed and then my friends sang Happy Birthday to me at like midnight in an empty Subway restaurant and the staff sang along. Back then it didn’t really seem all that spectacular, but looking back at it now, it was definitely wonderful.

8: Talk about the thing you’re most proud of.I’m just very proud of the fact that the friends that I have feel like they can trust me. Like, it makes me feel like I’ve done good. I am also very proud of the fact that I managed to up my grades in Physics and Chemistry when I went to community college and also finish my last-year project that I had failed before I graduated from “high school” (went from an F to a muthafuckin’ C in Physics, might not sound like a lot but to me, that’s fantastic).

17: Talk about someone that you want to be friends with.I feel like… I’m already friends with the people I want to be friends with? Like even here on tumblr, like my closest mutuals (kryptonitefreckles included) already feel like friends at some level. Whether we remain friends our whole lives or even for just a short period of time doesn’t matter, as long as we at least HAVE been friends.

32: Talk about a place you remember from your childhood.There is no one place that I remember very clearly and fondly, but rather several different places that I remember bit by bit. School, for example, I really liked school when I was younger. I still do, in some manner of ways, I liked going to school and the routine and such- it’s only a problem when the curriculum is fucked up. I remember the old place where I used to take riding lessons. It’s still there and I plan to go back some time in the future, but it was a place where I learned a lot of discipline and respect. I remember my friend’s apartment, like she lived only ten minutes away from me so I would like hang out at her place almost every day. We’ve been friends for like… what, 14 years now? Almost? I remember a lot of places rather than just one. And I like it that way. Gives me a lot of things to remember.

[luxuriant-starlight]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love - Ch. 4

What’s this?? A new chapter?? Three days later??!?!?!?! 

Unheard of!

But not really! Ya gurl has had hella time on her hands, so I’ve managed to crank out another chapter in less than a week! Hope y’all enjoy!

Note that the characters in this story are aged up (they’re 18), and do consume alcohol in this chapter, so be wary of that!

As always, the inspiration for this fic is from an animatic by the lovely @pepper-bottom, who y’all should definitely check out! 

Thanks for reading, lovelies <3

Words in this Chapter: 1.9k

[AO3] // [FFN]

Chapter 4 - Mari and Alya Are Lobsters

 Marinette was just. A mess that morning. To be entirely fuckin’ frank.

 But, then again- what would you expect from a girl who had literally just been rejected by the man she had very much considered to be her potential soulmate for almost the entirety of her teenage life.

 Ugh. She didn’t even want to flashback to that.

 The way he looked so… so sorry. Like he pitied her.

 She just felt so devastated. So heartbroken.

 So… humiliated.

 Marinette had cried herself to sleep every night this week. How could she have been so stupid? Of course there was someone else. Of course there was.

 And yet, through all her anguish…

 She couldn’t stop thinking about last night.

 Chat Noir had come to visit her. He really was sweet, for an alley cat.

 He’d seen her crying into her tea on the railing. She was blasting Kelly Clarkson (obviously- what else does one play after they’ve been rejected?) and replaying that awful moment Adrien turned her down over and over again.

 But he came to comfort her. Of all the things he could’ve spent that night doing, he went out of his way to cheer her up even after-

 Well, even after she had shattered his heart.

 Not that Marinette did, of course. It was Ladybug who had rejected him.

 But still. She’s seen the sadness in his eyes since the day it happened. She knew she hurt him. She knew the last thing that kitty needed was more heartbreak.

 And yet, he took it all on, just to make her feel better.

 That sounds so stupid, now. But the gesture really touched her.

 And, you know, maybe it was her tender, weakened heart. Maybe it was her exhaustion. Maybe it was dehydration from all the crying. Maybe it was just the way his eyes shone in the moonlight.

 Whatever it was, her broken heart felt warmer. Her cheeks did, too.

 She had flirted with him.

 And yeah, obviously, she has flirted with him before. But it was always casual. It never meant anything. She had never felt anything. Maybe she would have if not for her love for Adrien…

 But that was over with, now. There was nothing and no one holding her back.

 Chat Noir was present in her life and loved her (err...well, he loved her superhero persona, at least). He had smiled and stumbled over his words and blushed in a way she had never seen before last night. And when he leaned in, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little tempted to-

 Okay, woah. What is going on with you??? He’s one of your best friends, and your partner. That’s it. Nothing more, nothing less. You just got your heart broken.

 Okay. Maybe her conscience was right. It doesn’t make sense to let yourself fall for someone else before you’ve even let the dust settle on the person you loved before.

 She was just vulnerable. She had a moment of weakness. That was all.

 Exactly. Don’t get your hopes up.

 No matter how nicely he’s filled in that suit over that past few years, or how much he seemed to want it, too. Or how strong his jaw is or tight that leather is or-

 “Mari, are you even listening?” Alya demanded, jarring Marinette out of her deep train of thought.

 “Oh- uh- sorry, what?”

 Marinette had totally spaced out. She was walking home from school with Alya, who was telling her about the new camera she’d been wanting and finally bought, and she’d been totally ignoring her. Yikes.

 “Were you thinking about him again?” Alya asked, softening her tone.

 “Him- no- uh- what makes you think I was thinking about him, haha?” Marinette stumbled, laughing nervously.

 “Because I’m your best friend, and your face has Adrien written all over it.” She explained with a chuckle.

 Oh. Right. Adrien.

 “Yeah. I was. I’m really sorry.” Marinette apologized.

 “Don’t be. Listen- I know it’s been super hard for you. I know your emotions have been all over the place-”

 “Super all over the place.” Marinette agreed.

 “-Which is whyyy I declare we have an emergency girls’ night, tonight.” Alya finished, singsonging.

 Marinette blinked. “An emergency girls’ night?”

 “Yup.” Alya popped the ‘p’ in the word so as to emphasize.

 Marinette shifted, uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Al. I’m not really feeling it, tonight.” 

 “Oh come on, Marinette.”

“I don’t know.”

 “Listen. I think you- well, every woman on this Earth, but especially you at the moment- need a break from men and their nonsense. You have been hurting for way too long.”

 “It’s only been like, a week.”

 “Exactly. Come on, Mari. Let’s get lit together in a sacred act of solidarity and sisterhood. In the name of feminism! Let’s get fucked up!” Alya declared, yelling out loud as they walked, so as some people around them turned to look at them.

 Marinette snorted and bust out laughing for the first time in what felt like centuries. “Okay, okay. Let’s get ‘lit.’”

 “That’s my girl! Onward!”

 Alya led her towards the bakery, marching like a bandleader in a parade. Marinette’s heart warmed. She really had a pretty gosh darn amazing best friend.

----------

 One change of clothes, one march towards Alya’s place, three hours, and two bottles of rosé later, they were, indeed, thoroughly “lit.”

 Marinette was sitting up on Alya’s bed, girly drink in hand, as Alya stood up and exaggerated her story.

 “-And, I swear to God, Nino can no longer even LOOK at a pineapple without sweating.”

 They both burst out laughing, hard- that is, until Alya tripped and fell on the bed next to Marinette, and they laughed harder.

 As their laughter turned to giggles, and then to contented sighs, for a second, Alya and Marinette just looked at each other. Alya shifted on her stomach and propped her head up to make herself more comfortable.

 Marinette sighed happily, overcome with love, caressing Alya’s cheek. This girl was really there for her. Mari had been so stressed and overwhelmed with heartbreak this whole week- yet Alya knew just what to do. And now, three hours later, it’s like she’s almost completely forgotten what she was even upset about.

 Marinette felt tears come to her eyes.

 “Alya.” She held back a sob, grasping her best friend’s hand and pulling it close to her. “You’re my very best friend. Did you know that?”

 “Mari…” Alya bit back a sob, too, tears coming to her eyes as well. “Girl, stop, before I cry.”

 “No, I can’t stop. I love you, Al. You’re always there for me. You always help me out- even when I’m a angsty mess. You taught me how to highlight and contour. There’s no love like the love I-” Marinette’s drunken love confession was interrupted by a hiccup. “-have for you. I love you, Al. So, so much. More than Project Runway. You’re my fuckin’ lobster, man.”

 “Marinette, oh my godddd…” Alya sobbed for real this time, sitting up and pulling Marinette into her warm embrace. “You’re MY lobster. You’re too good. Too precious for this world. I love you so much, my cinnamon roll. I love you forever.”

 Marinette’s heart warmed, and she felt butterflies in her stomach. She sniffled, then sobbed.

 “I love you forever!”

 They both sobbed in each other’s arms, holding each other tight, until the crying finally subsisted.

 “Okay, okay.” Alya sniffled, sighing and looking Marinette in the eye. “Now that we’ve confessed our love, I- I have to confess something about me. Something SO crazy. Like, if you find out, you’ll like. Supernova.”

 Marinette giggled. “I’ll supernova?”

 “It’s like a crazy galactic explosion. It’ll get ya.”

 “Okay. I’ll try not to supernova. But tell me what it is!”

 “Okay, okay. Here goes.” Alya breathed in, hyping herself up. “Remember Max’s 15th birthday party?”

 “When we played laser tag?”

 “Yeah. And you remember how me and Alix and Juleka and all those guys were on the team opposite of you and Nino and Adrien and whatever?”

 “Yeah! Team Awesome versus Team Spectacular.”

 Alya chuckled, but then took another deep breath. “And you remember how the last two people left on my team were me and Alix? And we were off for like a good half hour on a ‘stake-out’?”

 “Yeah?”

 “We weren’t on a stake-out. We were totally making out.”

 “WHAT?” Marinette gasped, pretending to almost fall off the bed.

 They both laughed hysterically.

 “I can’t believe you kissed Alix! Dude! That was like- like-” Marinette stumbled, being slightly more drunk than Alya. “Like the fuckin’ WEEK before she went on her first date with Kim!”

 “I know! It was like a totally spur of the moment thing. But…” Alya blushed, looking away. “To be entirely honest, even though I have Nino, now, I’ve kind of had a thing for Alix ever since she spitballed Kim in the eye when we were like 13. I don’t really feel that way anymore, but I did and I acted on impulse and we’ve literally never talked about it since but I’ve thought about it so much.”

 “Why didn’t you tell me?” Marinette asked, her eyebrows knitting together.

 “I don’t know.” Alya admitted. “Honestly, I’ve never told anyone. I was sort of gonna ask her out, but then Kim beat me to it and I didn’t really wanna bum anyone out or anything.”

 “Alya..” Marinette was touched. Alya had been holding back this big secret for so long, and now she told her just because she wanted to better their friendship and break all the obstacles between them.

 Maybe it was the rosé talking, but Marinette felt awfully compelled to tell her a secret, too.

 “Alya..” Marinette bit her lip, trying to sober up as much as she could (which, tbh, was not much at all). “I have a big secret to tell you, too.”

 “What is it, Mari? You can tell me anything.” Alya assured her, putting her hand on hers. Alya was such a good friend. She had to tell her.

 Marinette downed another glass in a milisecond, before taking a deep breath.

 “Alya.” Marinette said, seriously. “I’m Ladyboog.”

 Alya stared at her for a moment, before bursting out laughing.

 “L-Ladyboog? Hahahaha, oh my god.” Alya wiped a tear from her eye. “That’s so fucking funny, Mari. Maybe you’ve had enough to drink for one night.”

 As Alya cut her off, Marinette whined, and stood up on the bed, pouting and crossing her arms.

 “No, Alya! I’m serious!” Mari huffed. Why wouldn’t Alya listen? “I’m Ladyboog!”

 Alya laughed again, letting it fade into a satisfied chuckle. “Okay, Ladyboog- prove it.”

 Marinette narrowed her eyes at her smirking best friend. Fine. She wouldn’t take her word for it? Then Mari would just have to prove it.

 “Okay, then.” Marinette declared, placing one hand on her hip and the other pointing up towards the air. “Tikki! Spots on!”

 “Wait, wha-”

 Alya didn’t have time to finish that sentence, because all of a sudden Marinette, her best friend and almost-sister was transforming before her eyes into the very superhero she had been investigating since the day they’d met: Ladybug.

 Marinette heard Tikki’s faint cries of disapproval in the back of her mind before she could process what she had just done. She had just drunkenly transformed in front of, and revealed her identity to Alya.

 Alya’s wine glass slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, shattering. Marinette tried to open her mouth and explain herself but couldn’t. The only thing she could say now was-

 “Oh, fuck.”