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sidekick-hero · 4 months

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"I don't know, Robbie. I mean, it's been years! Even if there ever was a 'spark' between us, it's probably long gone."

He doesn't look over at Robin as he says this, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers. They both know that he hasn't made a single mark on the paper in front of him since Robin burst into his house with her spare key and announced, "Eddie's coming to the wedding."

"Inside voice," he had chided her, even though April was at her friend's house doing a school project. Old habits die hard.

Plopping down next to him at the kitchen table, Robin had happily ignored him as she continued, "Lucas just called me, it's going to be a surprise for Dustin. Eddie's finishing the tour two days early, so he's coming straight from the airport. But he will be there, Steve!"

Trying his best not to show how his heart had started beating faster as soon as Robin had mentioned Eddie's name, Steve had shrugged nonchalantly. "That's nice, Robbie. Dustin will be over the moon."

"That's nice, Robbie." She repeated in a surprisingly good imitation of his tone. They definitely spent too much time together. "You can act indifferent all you want, Steve. I was there when you refused to leave the house for a whole week when Eddie went to LA, remember? I held your hair when you puked your guts out after drowning your sorrows when Eddie brought what's-his-face to Max and Lucas' wedding. You two belong together, Steve! You just had bad timing. You've never both been single at the same time - until now. That must mean something. Maybe he's not just coming for Dustin, that's all I'm saying."

Which had actually led them to discuss whether Steve should put them all out of their misery by finally growing a pair (Robin's words) or decide that whatever had been between them that summer, when Eddie had recovered from almost being eaten alive by demobats, was long gone (Steve's words).

"I beg to differ, Dingus. I saw the way he looked at you at our little 'Fuck Off Upside Down' anniversary party. He spilled his beer when you walked in the room, Steve. No one else did."

"He's clumsy. You know that. I'm surprised he never fell off the stage," Steve jokes. He's not sure who he's trying to convince, Robin or himself.

Robin's expression changes to something more serious as she puts her hand on top of his, still holding his red grading pen in a white-knuckled grip. "Steve, listen. I'm not saying you have to do anything. You and Eddie have been friends for almost twenty years. We've all been. You're not going to lose him no matter what you decide. But," and here she takes a deep breath, "I just want you to be happy, Steve. You deserve to be happy. And I know that you're not unhappy, I know that. You've got April and you've got me and you've got the kids, even though they're scattered all over the country. But I also know that you've never stopped imagining a future with him, have you?"

"He kissed me," Steve blurts out, and to Robin's credit, she doesn't react except for her hand on his to twitch in surprise. She makes a questioning sound in her throat, clearly waiting for more.

"The night before he left. We had this big going-away bash, remember?" She nods. "We all got pretty drunk after the kids left and you and Vicky had gone to sleep in the guest room and I had offered to sleep on the couch so Eddie could have my bed. His back was still bothering him and he had a long drive ahead of him the next day. But he insisted on sharing and I was too drunk and tired to argue. The next morning he got up very early, probably thinking I was still asleep when he got dressed and left. Only he didn't leave. At least not right away. He came over to the bed and kissed me. On the mouth. And he said, 'You'll always be my almost, Stevie.'"

Robin looks at him with wide eyes, and Steve thinks that maybe he should have told her sooner, that maybe he violated some code between them because they tell each other everything. But something about this morning had felt, well, almost sacred in a way. As if putting it into words would make it less so.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Robbie. I just..."

"You had to keep it to yourself so it would always be the one dream you could turn to?" Robin suggests in a soft voice, and Steve wouldn't have said it like that, but she's right. Every date that didn't feel right, every relationship that went down the drain, hell, even when his marriage imploded on him, he thought of that one kiss and dreamed of a life where Eddie would have stayed. Or where Steve had followed him.

"Oh Dingus." Suddenly, Robin's arms wrapped around him in a hug, and it wasn't until he saw the wetness on her shirt that he realized he was crying. "I can't promise you it'll work, but I really think you should talk to him. Your life doesn't end at 40, Steve. You can still have the future you've always dreamed of."

Steve nods against her shoulder, tightening his grip on the best thing that has ever happened to him besides April.

Dustin and El's wedding is a small affair, just family and close friends, which is basically the same in their group.

Steve tries his best not to show his inner turmoil and mostly succeeds. There are handshakes that turn into tight hugs, hellos that turn into stories about kids and grandkids, neighbors, vacations, jobs, life. It's great to see everyone. It also helps distract him from the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in his stomach for over a week now.

It works until everyone is about to take their seats and Eddie still hasn't shown up. He's supposed to be one of Dustin's groomsmen, along with Lucas and Mike and Will, while Steve is actually Dustin's best man. He only cried a little when Dustin asked him to.

Just as the officiant is ready to start without him, the heavy double doors open and Eddie walks in like Aragorn into Helm's Deep (Dustin insisted that Steve watch the movies if he didn't want to read the books, and Steve may have thought of Eddie more than once while watching Aragorn, sue him).

He rushes to his spot next to the other groomsmen, ruffles Dustin's hair as he passes him, and mumbles, "Sorry, shrimp, the airport lost my luggage." Then his eyes fall on Steve and he freezes for a moment before giving him a bright, dimpled smile. "Hey, Stevie," he whispers before stepping to the end of the line of groomsmen.

Steve is glad that Hopper is recording the whole ceremony, because he doesn't hear a thing that's being said.

Later, everyone gathers in the dining room and Hopper and Claudia each give a heartfelt speech before it's Steve's turn. He has everyone toast to Dustin and El's future, because while the past may have brought them together, it's the future that belongs to them and their love. He forces himself not to look at Eddie as he says this, knowing that his face would give away his thoughts.

And then Eddie stands up to say a few words as well, something no one expected him to do.

"I've known Dustin for 20 years now, and the only time I ever doubted that he was a genius was when he let El go without a fight. But you know what? I was wrong. Dustin and El may have taken the scenic route to get here," Eddie tells the guests, "but sometimes that's the best way to get somewhere. If you're willing to take the long and winding road, the road less traveled, as Frost would say, you know that whatever's at the other end is worth it."

Steve desperately wants to believe that Eddie is not just talking about Dustin and El, but he doesn't even look at Steve when he says that. He just sits down again next to Robin at the table right next to the one where Steve is sitting with Dustin and El and their parents, because Steve is part of the family, too, as Claudia had pointed out.

The rest of the evening is kind of a blur until everyone gets up to go to the ballroom where the dance floor has been set up. Dustin and El open with their first dance, "You and Me" by Lifehouse, and Steve has never been prouder of his little brother as he watches him lead El across the dance floor with the biggest, toothiest smile on his face.

"They've come a long way, huh?" says a voice next to him and Steve doesn't have to turn around to know it's Eddie.

"Yeah. I'm glad they made it." Steve agrees, his eyes never leaving the dancing couple. More and more people are joining them now, and Steve can feel the fond smile on his face grow.

Eddie's hand rests on his arm as he steps around Steve to face him. He extends his other hand to Steve, palm up, and asks, "May I have the pleasure of this dance with you?"

As if Steve could ever say no to Eddie.

Just as they step onto the dance floor, "You and Me" fades out and the next song begins. It's "Unchained Melody" and Steve suspects that Robin had a hand in it. It's the song Steve listened to a lot after Eddie left and she once complained that he ruined the song for her. Apparently not enough to put it on the playlist when he and Eddie hit the dance floor.

"I always kind of liked that song," Eddie tells him, and Steve snorts. "No, really! It's not really metal, but I don't know. I just feel it, you know? It's real." Eddie explains, veering close to rambling territory.

"Is that so?" Steve has to ask as he slowly sways, his hand in Eddie's and his arm wrapped around Eddie's waist.

Eddie hums quietly in agreement. "Back in '86, when I was trying to settle down in LA, I used to listen to it for hours." Eddie admits quietly and Steve's heart is suddenly in his throat. "I felt every single word and every single word made me think about what I was leaving behind."

"Eddie," Steve begins, only to be gently silenced by Eddie's finger against his lips.

"Please, Stevie, I have to say this now or I never will. So please, just listen, yeah?"

Steve crosses his eyes to look pointedly at Eddie's finger against his lips before looking back up at Eddie, who snorts at the gesture. "Brat," he teases, taking his finger away.

"Okay, I'm listening," Steve tells him, and mimics zipping his lips.

Eddie's eyes sparkle with amusement and affection, and something deeper. Something that makes the seeds of hope in Steve's chest tentatively open and reach for their sun.

"Stevie, sweetheart, you certainly know... I mean, you must know that I..." Eddie rambles and Steve has never seen him so lost for words. He doesn't say anything, but he brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses Eddie's in silent reassurance.

Eddie's eyes find his and the expression in them is so unbearably soft that Steve almost has to look away. No one has ever looked at him like that before. "You were always the one who got away, Steve. My almost. Even when I was with other people, you were there. On every stage, in every hotel room, on every stretch of highway, you were there. And I almost told myself it just wasn't meant to be. I had you as a friend and that was a gift I never thought I would have, I shouldn't be greedy and ask for more."

He takes a deep breath, like he's steeling himself, gathering every ounce of that incredible courage Steve has seen time and time again, even as Eddie keeps insisting he's a coward. Steve knows better, and Eddie's next words prove him right once again.

"But the funny thing is, it never stopped me from hoping for a future with you."

They stop dancing, if you can call what they were doing dancing, and look at each other, eyes searching for answers. For reasons to hope.

Steve is the first to break the silence, a soft grin on his face. "May I speak now?"

That makes Eddie laugh softly and he nods.

"Is this what you want? A future with me? Because that means a future with a middle school teacher with a little pet tornado who's currently staying with her mom. You have to mean it for her as much as you mean it for me. This means being all in, Eddie."

Steve hates that he has to say this, that he can't just fall into Eddie's arms and kiss him senseless. But Eddie needs to know what a future with Steve means. If he wasn't sure he wanted that kind of future, then they couldn't have one together. At least not the way they both wanted it.

Eddie cupped Steve's cheek in his hand, his smile growing with every blink of his chocolate eyes. "Steve, I know who you are. I know what it would mean to be with you, and I want it so much that I can barely stand another day without it. I love your little pet Tornado, she's adorable and funny and she has great taste in music. No idea where she got that from, though," Eddie teases before sobering up. "I want to be a family. This tour was our last for at least two years. The guys need a break and so do I. And after that, we don't know yet, but whatever it is, it will be something we agree on together. You and me and April."

Maybe Steve should ask more questions, be more cautious. But he's waited twenty years for this, and he can't wait another second to finally kiss the man he's always been in love with.

He's ready for his future to begin.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddielovemonth #day 12 #love is the hope for a future together #my writing

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dancinglikebutterflywings · 3 months

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Say You Love Me Too | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Manager!Reader

Request: No

Synopsis: Reader has broken a rule that could get her fired. She's fallen in love.

Warnings: forbidden romance (?). Okay, here me out, this was supposed to be a cute platonic imagine about Wooyoung having a favourite manager but it didn't turn out that way. Probably kinda sucks.

Word Count: 1,267

ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines

By the time it’s time to film the dance practice video for ATEEZ’s latest title track, it has been so engrained in Wooyoung that it’s muscle memory at this point. So, when something off to the side behind the camera’s catches his attention, his dancing isn’t affected as he looks over at the woman sitting crossed legged on the floor in the corner of the dance practice room. Wooyoung’s only issue was keeping himself from grinning ear to ear as he took the chance to look over at her when he could.

Y/N’s going through the file of papers that contained ATEEZ’s up and coming schedules and what needed to be done and who was assigned to which task and all the other joys that came along with being one of the managers. She’s mouthing along with the words of the song and occasionally dancing along to it. She’d been there for every practice and got to sit on some of the studio sessions. The song was just as engrained into her as it was the men who sang and preformed it.

“Let’s take a break and go over it again one more time,” the PD-nim's voice cuts through the room, ending filming for now.

With that, she closes the file and stands up, holding the file to her chest so she doesn’t drop it. She stretches her legs, making her way over to her bag and places the file back inside it. As she stands back up straight, a familiar pair of arms wraps themselves around her as the person they belong to hugs her from behind.

“Wooyoung!” she raises her voice, knowing who it is right away. She manages to get out of his hold as she turns around to face him. “Yah! I told you not to hug me when you’re all sweaty,” she continues, scolding him playfully and hitting his shoulder.

“Are you leaving already?” he asks, ignoring your scolding, watching you hang your bag over your shoulder.

“I have a meeting with the stylists to go over the concept looks and outfits for your comeback stage,” she answers and looks at her phone to see she has seven minutes to get to the conference room she was meeting the stylists in.

“Are you coming back after the meeting?” he asks, his voice lowering, wanting to keep their conversation between just the two of them. She shakes her head, no. “Will I get to see you before you leave tonight?”

“Maybe if you catch me on my way out,” she tells him. “If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before Wooyoung could say anything more, she leaves the practice room.

But Wooyoung doesn’t give up that easy. He makes up some excuse about needing the bathroom and darts out of the room after her. The PD-nim and Hongjoong both shout at him to not be too long.

“Y/N-ah!” he calls after her, only for her to ignore him as she waits for the elevator to reach her floor.

When the elevator’s doors open, she steps inside just as Wooyoung reaches her. Before the doors can close, he slides into the elevator. When the doors close, she turns to him, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Why do I get the feeling your avoiding me?” he comments, brushing off her question and the disapproving look on her face.

"I'm not avoiding you. I’m busy making sure everything goes smoothly for your comeback,” she she retorts, refuting any claims of avoidance he was accusing her of. "I've been practically juggling two jobs ever since the manager who used to handle this with me switched groups. KQ needs-”

"Is it because of the kiss?" he interjects, cutting off her rambling.

Her body tenses up, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red at the mention of the kiss they shared the night before.

Wooyoung has always made it obvious that he cares deeply for her. From the way his gaze always found her in a crowded room, the way he would look at her with adoration in his eyes, and the way he always made an effort to be with her or beside her. Wooyoung's affection for her was undeniable. And it wasn’t something happened over night. It had built up gradually of the two years she’s been working for them.

Y/N would be lying to herself and everyone around her if she said she didn’t feel the same. But her job was at risk if she ever gave into those feelings. She made it as clear as possible that her and Wooyoung would never go past just being friends.

Until last night happened. He’d kissed her in a moment of weakness on both their parts. She wanted to regret it so bad, but she couldn’t bring herself to. The more she thought about it the more she wanted it to happen again and the more she was willing to look for another job so it could happen again.

She was truly at a crossroads.

“Can we not talk about that?” she asks, even though she wants to. Using her phone as a distraction from looking at him, she sees she has a minute left to get to the conference room.

“I think we should,” he says disagreeing with her choice not to talk about it.

“Not here, not now,” she sighs as the elevator reaches the floor she needs to be on. He follows her out and gently takes her arm stopping her from walking away and turning her back to face him.

“Can I stop by your apartment later?” he asks, his voice once again only quiet enough for her to hear as someone walks by them on to the elevator.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she says, without saying no. “You have late nights and early mornings. You need all the rest you can get. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow when I arrive.”

“But we can’t talk then,” he frowns with a slight pout.

“Maybe it’s best if we didn’t,” she sighs sadly, as she thinks with her brain and not her heart. She leaves him standing in the middle of the corridor, both their hearts breaking for something they want but can never happen.

He’s about to turn around and head back to the practice room when Y/N walks out of the room she just walked into a moment ago. He looks at her confused.

“I need to know,” she speaks before he could ask her what’s going on. “I need to know if your serious about us.”

“The last time I was this serious about someone was when I told Yeosang him and I were going to succeed or fail together,” he admits. “Look how that turned out.”

“Do you think we can make this work?” she asks, a hopeful and anxious look swirling in her eyes.

“I don’t know but I hope we can,” he says, also hopeful as he takes her hand and pulls her into an empty room, just as the elevator doors open alerting them that someone is about to enter the corridor. After the door closes behind them, he takes her face in his hands, tilting her head so he can look into her eyes. “What I do know is that I can’t ignore that I’ve fallen in love you. I never expected to but here we are. Say you love me too.”

“I love you, too,” falls from her lips before she has time to think about it.

Wooyoung smiles and kisses her deeply, trying to convey all the love he has for her.

Likes, Comments & Reblogs are welcomed and appreciated.

©️ 2024 CRAZYFORMFICS. NO ONE HAS PERMISSION TO COPY, TRANSLATE AND/OR REPOST MY WORKS ON HERE OR ANY OTHER SITE.

TAGGED: @staytiny2000 - @dancelikebutterflywings - @treehouse-mouse - @kpopmenace143 - @alexxavicry - @jedi-dreea - @rainydayteacups - @green-agent - @tinyelfperson

#jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fics #wooyoung x y/n #jung wooyoung x y/n #ateez fics #ateez x y/n #atz x reader #atz

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littlexscarletxwitch · 11 months

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Hi, I saw that you request is open, so is it okay if I request a Natasha x fem!R in a secret relationship and Nat always leave a hickey in R's neck and the team kept on asking R where did it come from and R will answer "just a spider bite" and the team thought it came from Peter, but Peter denies it, until Nat calls R a pet name and they kissed in front of the team. Thank you!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗶��𝗲

paring: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, the team being the team, i love clint and nat so much, also civil war never happened in this timeline (lol)

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 0.8k

note: OMG MY FIRST NAT FIC!. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for letting me write out your idea, nonnie. I kinda changed it a little bit, I hope that's okay. Sorry it's kinda short. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Hope you guys enjoy! <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your breath hitched as you felt her soft wet lips on your neck.

“Natty, stop. You are going to leave a hickey,” you tried to sound annoyed but clearly you were enjoying the situation.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do,” you heard her mumble against your skin.

“Nat, they are going to find out if you keep on marking me,” you chuckled.

“I don’t care, detka. Let them know who you belong to,” you could hear the grin on her face.

“You are the worst,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

[...]

“Again. This time punch harder, Y/n. Imagine you're fighting for your life,” Steve said, trying to help you out.

Your head fell back in annoyance, you had been throwing punches at the punching bag for the last hour. Your arms were sore, your feet hurt from standing and you felt like you could just die any second now.

“Hey, what’s that on your neck?” you heard Bucky said next to Steve.

Your hand immediately went up to cover the hickey. You had tried your best to put some makeup on it, but clearly you hadn’t done a good job.

“What is it?” you tried to play dumb, which was no use. The boys standing in front of you knew better than that, they could see right through you.

“Looks like a bruise,” Steve raised his brow at you.

“Spider bite,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” Steve asked, not having heard anything you had just said. But Bucky had heard perfectly.

“Oh, nothing. It’s probably a mosquito bite,” you shrugged it off.

Steve and Bucky looked at each other. Sure, Steve may seem innocent and cute but he knew better, and that was no mosquito bite. Bucky could tell that it was a hickey even from a mile away. Still, they played along.

“Yeah, sure,” Steve shrugged it off.

“Come on, again,” Bucky said, nodding to the punching bag. Smile creeping on his face as knew he would use this new information later on.

[...]

“So, you two have been spending a lot of time together recently…” Tony said, entering the kitchen. There was something about his tone that sent a shiver up your spine. He was up to something.

Tony walked in while you and Peter were having an afternoon snack, you were helping him out with his homework. Well, you weren’t actually helping him, you were telling him everything about your relationship with Natasha while he was trying to do his homework. He was the only one who knew that the two of you were dating and was the only person who didn’t mind hearing you rambling nonstop about your badass girlfriend.

“Yeah, we have been training together, what about it?”

“Nothing at all, Barnes said something and I was just curious,” he said nonchalantly.

“What did he say?” Peter chimed in, finally looking away from his books.

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation, “Well, he said that the thing on your neck isn’t a mosquito bite, more like a spider bite,” he winked at the two of you.

You and Peter shared a look and a second later the two of you were laughing.

“You think he gave me the ‘spider bite’,” you said in between laughs.

“Y/n, they think we are dating,” Peter put a hand over his belly trying to hold back his laughter.

“Wait, you didn’t give her that hickey?” Tony asked seriously.

“No, Mr. Stak, what makes you think that?” the boy next to you said once he was done laughing.

“I just thought… Barnes said… But Steve thought,” Tony couldn’t say a word, confusion was written all over his face.

Just when he was about to say a coherent sentence another person walked in the kitchen.

“Hey, detka,” Natasha said and pecked your lips.

“Wait what?!” Tony screamed.

Soon enough more people found their way into the kitchen because of Tony.

“What’s going on?” you heard Bucky said.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve stepped in, always the gentleman.

“Nat’s the spider,” Tony simply answered.

“What?” the two of them asked in unisom.

“Y/n’s spider?” Clint chimed in.

“Yes. All this time I thought it was Parker,” Tony said in annoyance.

“I don’t understand why this is a big deal…” you tried to say but someone cut you off.

“Pay up, losers,” Clint cheered.

“What?” you and Nat complained at the same time.

“They had a bet. This is actually really funny,” Peter said, trying to hold back from laughing so hard.

“Goddamin it, Y/n,” Tony protested.

You watched as the three men gave each a fifty-dollar bill to Clint. You couldn’t help to playfully roll your eyes at them, they were like children.

“It’s okay, malyshka. Let them be,” Nat said before softly kissing your lips.

“Okay, yeah, that’s our cue,” you heard Clint say.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff #requests by lovely anons ‘๑’

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loomisadvocate · 1 month

Text

the inevitable 𖤐 part five

woodsboro would soon be a distant memory - but some things would make it hard to forget.

pairing: billy loomis x fem!reader

word count: 7.4k (holy shit i am so sorry)

tags/warnings: strangers to enemies, enemies to lovers, smut (eventually), angst, slow burn (heavy on this), cursing, alcohol and marijuana, make out scene who cheered!, probably others i'm forgetting.

a/n: clearly i got a little carried away with this part... it's the longest one to date. i hope that's not a bad thing. not 100% edited bc i promised i would post today. enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

masterlist

“I’m sorry, he actually said enchanting?”

Tatum stifles her laughter to avoid any of her soda passing through her nose. That, and to avoid any more stares from the old woman who’d been glaring at Tatum over her less-than-modest plaid skirt. You nod, scrunching your nose up at the memory.

Your outing with Tatum has, so far, been spent filling her in on your entire Billy situation. It was prompted by her asking why, and you quote, “rat-boy,” was so hellbent on the group knowing in the first place, seeing as you’d only formally known each other for a few weeks. In the spirit of having no more secrets, you gladly answered her question.

You started from the very beginning: how a seemingly innocent conversation about red wine versus white turned into a quick trip to the garage that ended in telling him your plans to move. If Tatum thought the garage incident was hilarious, she was sure to piss herself when you told her about him coming to your window.

“Wait for it; it gets much worse.” You laugh along with her and take another bite of the pretzel you were sharing, wiping cinnamon sugar dust off on a useless paper napkin. “So then a week later, I’m writing my paper and hear something outside. I’m thinking it’s a small animal or something, but no. Guess what?” You pause for dramatic effect, Tatum raising an eyebrow and waiting expectantly. A few seconds go by before her hand smacks on the table and she gasps.

“Shut up!” The old woman next to you grunts and picks up her belongings, clearly fed up with your friend’s dramatic reactions. Tatum doesn’t care, and neither do you. If people looked at you and saw two high school seniors behaving like they were spilling middle school gossip, you couldn’t care less. You’d been waiting for more moments like these with her, and you’d be damned if you let a stranger spoil it with just a dirty look.

Tatum lowers her voice and leans in closer to you. “Shut up. He came to your house. Through your window?”She confirms with you, and you nod with your nose scrunched up.

“And I actually let him in, which is the even crazier part. But I talked to him—like, actually talked to him, Tatum. And he wasn’t that unbearable. Then, for whatever reason, he just flipped a switch.” You run a hand through your hair and push the pretzel towards her. Thinking about it all was taking away your sweet tooth.

What confused you the most about Billy Loomis is why, all of a sudden, he made fucking with your circle a personal mission. You racked your brain, thinking perhaps you had offended him by accident and didn’t realize it. You’d been doing that over and over again, coming up empty each time. Tatum knew him much better than you did and had a different angle, seeing as her boyfriend was the boy’s best friend.

“I think Billy is just a shithead and likes to get under people’s skin. He’s really good at it,” she offers. You already had the opportunity to learn that the hard way. “So what happened after you guys talked? Did you throw him out on his ass?” She asks with a giggle, getting a kick out of the mental image of you grabbing him by his hair and tossing him out of the window. A bit morbid, but a girl could dream.

You hesitate to answer. It’s not that you wanted to lie again; god no, that was the last thing you wanted to do. But something about telling another soul about the tension and the bubbling desire you’d been feeling in your gut since meeting him? It felt eerily similar to the reason you took so long to tell Tatum about leaving; it would make it real. You were perfectly content living in denial for as long as it took, even if that was up until the moment the moving van drove away.

You don’t answer, and Tatum kicks your leg lightly under the table. “Hello?’ She draws it out, waving her hand in the air. “What, did you guys make out or something?”

“No!” You shout immediately—defensively and hopefully convincingly. A few more people turn to look due to your quick outburst. “He got all... angry? Called me ungrateful and said I needed to wrap up my pity party. So I called him an asshole, and then..." You trail off at the memory. He taunts you, his lips now ghosting over your temple and his slim fingers resting on your hip. Through the thin, unreliable material of your t-shirt, you could feel him tracing circles.

“And then what?! You’re killing me here.” Tatum is growing more impatient by the second, like she’s heard the juiciest rumor about her favorite celebrity on TV, and suddenly the signal goes out. You look at her with uncertainty. Truthfully, you weren’t even entirely sure what had happened yourself. “I swear to god if you don’t spill.”

“And then it got weird,” you continue. Tatum doesn’t speak for you to know she’s asking how it got weird. “He got really close to me, like he was going to kiss me. And then he just didn’t? He said I should finish my paper and said my secret wouldn’t last much longer. Then the party happened, and he tried to give me a ride to school this morning. Well, I accepted the ride only ‘cause I would’ve been late and—“

“Whoa, we aren’t going to just skip that part. You guys almost kissed?!” Your best friend was crazed by all of this. Finding out you were moving, that Billy had it out for you, and that he had made a half-move on you all in one day was a bit much, even for her. She had absolutely zero interest in your ride to school this morning. Besides, she would be reinstating herself as your chaffeur starting tomorrow anyway.

"It was just weird and tense; nothing crazy happened. But it was definitely something. I just don’t know what his angle is.” You shrugged the entire thought away, entertaining it felt distasteful.

Admittedly, you hadn’t reached the point of being repulsed by him. The Billy you’d met a month ago was lingering in every crevice of your brain. Even the Billy that appeared in your bedroom seemed more kind, more palatable in some sense. Billy had proven thus far to be, if nothing else, a complete wildcard. You weren’t sure which Billy you would get on any given day. One day he is mocking you in your bedroom; the next he’s embarrassing you; and after that, he’s offering to bring you to school.

It was all too confusing, and your mind being seemingly detached from your body was not helping. The manner in which he could keep you frozen in place with a single look, your eyes the only part of your body able to move. Tracing over his stature, his lips, and his hands. It was positively disturbing. Now it had happened not once but twice, and everyone knows what they say about the third time.

"It sounds like he wants to see if he can get the library girl to open up more than her books." Tatum giggles and finishes off the sugary snack, crumpling up the paper to toss into the trash later. You don't respond; you're still fantasizing about the night in your room. Even when he wasn't in proximity he was able to throw your focus. What you fail to notice is Tatum's dawn of realization—the revelation that occurs while you're daydreaming.

"Oh my fucking god, you want to screw him!" She says it accusingly, pointing a finger at you. This is definitely enough to catch your attention. Your mouth is agape, but nothing comes out in your defense. After stuttering a few times, you manage to say something; however, it doesn't remedy much.

"Tatum, I don't want to screw him! He's horrible. Abhorrent, even." You throw in a big word in an attempt to throw her off your scent. Tatum knows you. She's known every guy you've thought to be remotely cute based on how you look at them. You never made a move on anyone the entire time you'd been in town. Partly because you preferred to avoid any serious attachments and strife when you eventually moved, but also because boys just weren't something you prioritized.

"You're basically drooling just thinking about it. God, no wonder there's so much tension." Tatum is enjoying every second of this. Maybe a small part of her is doing it on purpose, just as a little payback for what happened. Your willingness to talk to her about it, despite how humiliating it was for you, didn't go unnoticed. What killed you was how on the nose she was. It felt good to have your best friend in the loop on what would likely be your first and last real boy problem until the end of the school year.

"Ugh, you're right." You confess, unable to even laugh. Instead, you grab the hair at the top of your head and rest your face on your palms. "What do I do, Tatum?" You ask for guidance; your voice muffled. First you hear the slurping of the rest of her soda; she'd run through hers in record time.

"Just mess around; you're leaving soon anyway. He’s clearly into you, in his own bizarre, freakish way. What's the worst that could happen?" Tatum answers nonchalantly, and it earns an incredulous look from you. Tatum had personally ensured Billy was nowhere within five feet of you up until last month, and now she was encouraging you to sleep with the enemy?

"You're insane. I'm not going to mess around with him. He's an asshole; he has no respect, and he's made it clear he likes seeing me miserable.” You shake your head and lean back in your chair; one of the legs must be shorter than the rest because it's been rickety since you sat in it.

“True, but maybe he could like you? The only person who knows what Billy is thinking is Billy. Stu probably doesn't even know what happens in his bird brain." She offers an explanation, and you can't exactly disagree. You never knew what his motive was, and clearly, he kept his cards close to his chest.

"I know he's a dick; trust me," she continues. "And I'm definitely not a fan of him after what he pulled. But it's almost summer, and you've never even gone on a date with someone. Obviously, it's not a necessity, but you could probably benefit from a little something to take the edge off. You are a little bit uptight." Tatum's hands are clasped on the table as she tries to reason with you. Not only are you still in shock that she's suggesting this, but now you're surprised to find yourself agreeing.

Even so, there was still the matter of addressing his little stunt. Now that you and Tatum were fine, the next two things to take care of were, first, Randy, and secondly, the fucker that caused all of this in the first place.

"I can't believe you're telling me to screw around with Billy Loomis." You state, frankly, with a twinge of amusement donning your features.

"I can't believe you were already thinking about screwing around with Billy Loomis. You wear your thoughts on your face, by the way." Tatum smiles at you patronizingly, but you know it's with a light heart. You definitely had a lot to think about, but most of it needed to wait until after you tracked down Randy.

The squirrely one of the group was hardly ever taken seriously, but you knew that in this situation he needed to feel heard. He truly did see you as a sister. Whenever Stu would shoot down his ideas, you were always one step behind him, coming to his defense. You always said yes when he asked to hang out after school, mainly because he would go into a dramatic monologue about how much you hated him if you said otherwise.

Even though Tatum was your best friend, it was an unspoken feeling among all of you that Randy had somehow gotten the shittiest end of the stick. Randy was chaotic and, at times, unpredictable, but in a lot of ways, he was the one who bridged everyone together. You were positive that if Randy wasn't part of the group and hadn't pulled you from the library so many times, you wouldn't have gotten as close to Tatum. In the same beat, Randy was a simply guy. You knew an apology and a promise of grabbing food (on you, of course) would likely be enough. You still wanted to make it up to him.

With a clap, you stand up, ready to get out of the food court that was quickly starting to fill up with more people. The mall on a Monday afternoon was, believe it or not, one of the more entertaining places to go around town.

"No more Billy-talk; let's go. I need to find Randy." Tatum agrees quickly, standing up and tossing all of your trash in the bin before looking around in her bag for her car keys. Tatum agreed to stop by the video store on the way back and wait for you to talk to Randy. She assured you that he wasn’t angry, and noted that it wasn’t really in his nature to get angry anyways. That brought you much more comfort.

"For the record, fooling around when you're mad at someone is so much more fun. Why do you think I start fights with Stu so often?" Tatum twirls her car keys around her pointer finger and catches them in her palm. "Let's roll, Arizona," she says in a deep voice, earning a light smack on the arm from you.

You push Billy to the back of your mind for now, where he sits at any given moment lately. Perhaps Tatum was right, but if you were going to fool around with Billy Loomis, you were going to need to get your nerves in check.

Your talk with Randy was equal parts amusing and proactive. As Tatum informed you, Randy was nowhere near angry. Hurt, yes. Shocked, absolutely. But Randy, like your best friend, also knew that you couldn’t be an awful person if you tried. All of your self-hatred over the situation now felt slightly hilarious. You’d caught Randy at the beginning of his shift, luckily for you. That meant he wasn’t annoyed by people making, in his opinion, subpar movie choices just yet.

You’d given him a very similar spiel to the one you gave Tatum, filled with an obscene amount of “I’m sorry’s” and a very long hug. You had to remind him you weren’t leaving that night to get him to pull away. Nonetheless, it appeared that a lot of your worst fears were no cause for concern. Nobody (that you knew) hated you or would be cursing your name for the foreseeable future.

Randy did make it a point to really hammer that Windsor College was still taking applications despite the priority period ending already. He and Tatum had applied as soon as they opened, wishing to get as far away from Woodsboro as possible. Why it ended up being Ohio of all places you had no idea. Still, you rattled the idea around in your head. You figured it couldn’t hurt, but that was something you had to speak to your parents about.

The last you’d heard, your father was planning on taking a book deal that required him to live in New York in order to be close to the publishing company. Out-of-state tuition was likely going to be way too expensive, even with grants and scholarships. If you were able to convince him to agree on Ohio, you wouldn’t have to completely start over in the friend department.

Tuesday morning arrives, and for the first time since last Friday, you wake up without a weight on your chest. Your usual morning routine ensues, and it’s music to your ears when you hear the familiar horn of Tatum’s car outside your window. The ride to school felt even better today; after all, you didn’t have an impudent troll following you until you got into the car. Stu is taking up his usual spot in the passenger seat, his seatbelt evidently not on. Midway to school, he turns around, practically on his knees in the seat, which earns a reprimand from Tatum.

“So how are things with you and Randy? All better now?” He asks enthusiastically, a twinkle in his eye telling you he was probably asking because he wanted some juicy drama to laugh at.

“Yep, we’re all good. All is right in the world again, or whatever.” You nod once and keep your answer brief, refusing to give in to his wish. Your relationship with Stu was interesting, to say the least. You didn’t quite know him well, but his personality made it easy for you to take his banter in stride instead of taking it offensively.

“And what about things with Billy?” He asked immediately after, and Tatum slapped his shoulder quite harshly. You can see in the rear view that she is glaring at him. You scoff and direct your attention to her.

“You told him? Him of all people?! Tatum!” You lean forward and push Stu away by putting your hand over his face, staring at your best friend with a look of betrayal.

“He was gonna hear about it eventually; besides, he technically brought it up first!” She defends herself, pointing the finger at her boyfriend. You look between the two of them beyond confusion; what reason could Stu possibly have to bring up you and Billy? You raise both of your eyebrows at him, waiting for him to speak.

“You guys were like, eye-fucking each other on Friday. I didn’t know if I should feel awkward or kind of turned on,” he starts cackling as you start hitting him repeatedly.

“Don’t. Even. Go there!” You pause between each word, giving him a final slap on the top of his head. Stu was probably the least observant of everyone. If he and Billy were Dumb and Dumber, he was definitely the latter (which wasn’t saying much, really).

"Hey, fucking chill! I'm all for you getting some. A little weird it's from him, but maybe it'll fix that uptight attitude you've got going on," his words echo the ones his girlfriend had uttered to you less than twenty-four hours prior.

"Why do you guys think I'm uptight?!" You immediately shift into an even stronger defense mode, pleading frantically to the couple in the front seat for some kind of answer. You were no idiot; you had enough self-awareness to know that perhaps you could take your unyielding need for structure and order down a couple of notches.

Stu catches that you don't comment on 'getting some' from his best friend, and sticks his tongue out at you. "Arizona's fucking Billy!" He yells it as Tatum parks in her usual space, loud enough that if the windows were down people would have definitely heard it.

"Leave her alone! They haven't screwed yet." Tatum speaks up finally; although not to as much of your benefit as you would've appreciated. She puts the car in park and you jump at the opportunity to get out before you strangle Stu for his teasing. You scowl at the 6'4 child next to you and he, as usual, ignores your silent protest.

"Don't worry, Stu has to be on your side because I'm on your side. That means no Billy tomorrow night, right babe?" She looks up at him to confirm, but you can tell she's shooting daggers at him; compelling him to provide the answer she was looking at again.

"What's going on tomorrow night?" You ask. Hopefully it was nothing involving as much alcohol as the last time you spent time with them.

"Movie night, Randy insists there's a movie we need to watch that can't wait until the weekend. Billy will not be there." Tatum's chin turns up and she smacks Stu's chest. He feigns discomfort but she quickly provides him with a swift kiss.

"No Billy," you repeat. Relief washes over you. The unavoidable confrontation with him that had been plaguing you could be put off for one more day. The three of you split up to go to your respective classes, and you can only hope that Stu makes good on his word and keeps Billy as far away from you as possible.

———

Stu, surprisingly, keeps his promise. In fact, Billy was nowhere to be seen all day at school yesterday. Today he'd passed by you in the hallway, but he was too invested in whatever conversation he was having to notice you, or he chose to ignore you. Either way, you were content. Stu welcomes you inside, clearly prepared to drink the night away in his signature red 'party robe.' You didn't plan on drinking copiously; after all, it was still a weekday. However, the memories of the last time you were in Stu's living room began creeping up on you as soon as you walked inside.

Nobody brought up last Friday, which you were grateful for. But if you were going to relax enough to enjoy your night, at least one drink was necessary. To avoid falling into the cycle of running through beers all night, you instead asked Stu for a shot of tequila from his parents' liquor cabinet. It was hot and stung your throat as you forced it down, but the warmth that filled your chest afterwards was well worth it. That, and the soda you'd downed immediately after, helped with the foul taste. Everyone else indulged in a shot of well, most of them chasing it with their first beer of the night.

You were comfortable in the same place you were the first time you'd come to Stu's house. It seemed like so long ago. The season had already changed to summer since you'd made small talk about wine with the boy, who would soon become something close to your only adversary. Tatum and Stu were already settled in their places while Randy fiddled with the VHS player, a sight you'd become used to.

The tape's sleeve tossed haphazardly on the small table read Hellraiser IV: Bloodline, and you kept your complaints to yourself. You didn't plan on spoiling Randy's enthusiasm for the remainder of your time in town. You just really did not like horror movies, good or bad. Randy performs his regular pre-movie sermon, this time complete with a full run-down of how the original director had bowed out due to "artistic differences" and that a lot of the characters' fates had been rewritten. You couldn't help but inaudibly laugh at the irony. Oh, how you wish for your fate to be rewritten.

You actually try to focus on the movie, despite the faint buzz you can feel between your ears from the tequila. A group of guards are attempting to break down the door in order to take Dr. Paul Merchant when loud knocks at the front door scare all of you.

"Jesus, fuck!" Stu yells and groans loudly, hopping up over the back of the couch. Your attention briefly wanders to the entrance, but the front door is out of sight from where you're sitting. You don't hear much and assume Stu is coming back any second.

A few minutes go by without Stu's return, but Randy and Tatum are too captivated by the movie to notice. You get up quietly to avoid any other unexpected scares, going through the open archway until you can see the front door. Stu's towering height is hiding whatever he was looking at.

"You can't be serious, Stu," you hear a voice whisper. Whoever he was looking at. Stu senses you behind him and quickly turns to look over his shoulder, revealing none other than Billy fucking Loomis. Of course, he would be here right now.

Upon seeing you, Billy attempts to step inside through the small gap. "Just - there you are. Arizona, can I please talk to you?"

Stu puts his leg out to block his path, his hands clasped together, while his eyes flash between the two of you. It would be a lie to say Stu wasn't finding this a thousand times more entertaining than the movie.

"What could you possibly have to say to me that I would care about?" You respond boldly, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him, like you were suggesting a challenge. You should drink tequila more often. Billy's lips stay pressed together, and you can tell by the slight twitch of the corner that your reply was both unexpected and unappreciated.

Stu knows his friend far too well and quickly interjects. "How about you guys go talk in my room?" He suggests it, more-so an attempt to beg Billy not to make a scene. Stu is smiling, but it’s strained. Billy was not used to hearing any form of 'no,' and the last thing Stu needed was Tatum yelling at him for Billy showing up unannounced. You glance over at the living room, both of them completely unaware of what was happening in the foyer.

“I’d rather rot than listen to anything that comes out of your mouth.”

With that, you turn on your heels and walk straight back to the kitchen. Luckily, your arms were crossed to hide your shaking hands from his view. They are just still enough to pour yourself another shot of tequila, and you drink it without a chaser this time. You shake your head first, then your shoulders, and end with your arms in an attempt to get your body to relax. You desperately need to calm down and carry on with the rest of the evening as you intended—Billy free.

You return to your spot just as Stu reenters the living room, and trailing not too far behind him is Billy. So much for him not being here tonight. Tatum finally looks over when Stu sits down next to her, and her jaw drops while she follows Billy with her eyes.

“Really?! I told you not to invite him!” She whispers harshly, making no effort to keep it a secret that he wasn’t exactly wanted. Billy doesn’t bat an eye; he just sits on the floor furthest away from you, right by the arm of the sofa Tatum and Stu were occupying.

“He just showed up. What was I supposed to do?” Stu whispers back, throwing his hands up defensively. “Just watch the movie; who cares?” He mutters, avoiding looking in your direction. You and Tatum both roll your eyes, settling more into your respective places as you attempt to focus on the movie again.

It’s not much longer before Duc de L’Isle is summoning the demon princess, Angelique, into a woman’s body. Even with the movie accelerating, you’re processing none of it. The small television doesn’t give off enough light for you to see everyone, but it does cast the perfect amount of illumination on Billy. The movie progresses without your attention, and even with Randy’s animated reactions, Tatum’s commentary, and Stu’s childish (and inappropriate) jokes, you have no reaction. You feel as though you’re watching yourself from the other side of the room, desperately trying to look uninterested enough to avoid any attention coming your way.

You and Billy are playing the same game. From his spot on his floor, you are just in his peripheral vision. He can make out that you're sitting with your knees to your chest, but he can't see your face clearly without making it obvious he was looking. He is actively fighting every urge to steal a quick glance at you, truly hoping to find you looking right back. Every so often, he adjusts, the hard floor starting to be a literal pain in his ass. Each time, he manages to look at you for what feels like half a second.

Thirty minutes later, your couple of shots of tequila are starting to wear off, making you painfully paranoid about a certain someone. Just as you'd done before, you get up quietly and pad over to the kitchen. The tequila bottle is sitting in the same place you'd left it, your empty shot glass by its side. You sigh softly, taking the top off and pouring another to the brim this time. You quickly scan the counter for something to chase it with, but all the sodas are empty. You take a few steps to the fridge and pull it open, bending over to look for something. You spot a lone can of root beer in the back and grab it.

When you turn back around, another lanky figure is waiting for you. You gasp instantly, and the root beer falls from your hand. Nobody in the living room stirs at the disruption; the movie is too loud.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you begin, your mouth immediately snapping shut as your brain catches up to your body.

"No, just me." Billy gives you a placid smile. You don't say anything in response, stepping around him. You make it a point to hit his shoulder.

"Fair, I deserve that." He nods in understanding, hands clasped behind his back. You deserve a hell of a lot more than a shoulder-check, you think to yourself.

The can opening fills the space Billy expects you to take up with a response. He watches you intently, chin turned down, while you chuck back the shot and follow it up with root beer. You do your best not to show it on your face.

"Arizona, I'm just trying to apologize," he begins, taking a step towards you. Immediately, you fall back and hold your hand up between the two of you.

"Like last time? I'm not interested in hearing it." You snip back at him. "Why can't you get the hint that I don't want to listen to your fake sympathy? And I sure as hell don't need to be reprimanded by someone like you." You keep your voice low enough to keep this conversation as private as possible. The last thing you want is another confrontation like last time.

He stays silent and stares at you, his face falling just enough for you to notice. It's clear he fully expected his ambush to work, but there was no way you would go through this again. Not if you could help it. His nostrils flare so fast you almost miss it, but what you do miss is how fast his hand is wrapped around your elbow. You begin to protest and try to yank it out of his grasp, but Billy is intent on getting you upstairs. You both struggle up the stairs, and you are nudged into a bedroom with gaudy blue and red plaid sheets. The door is almost slammed behind you as Billy stands in front of it.

"What the hell is your problem?!" He demands an answer, and you laugh incredulously.

"Are you serious? What part of I don't want to talk to you do you not understand?" You attempt to leave the room, but he intervenes by stepping over to the left. You huff and try the other side, but he mimics you.

“I rarely apologize, you should feel grateful. Are you that goddamn stubborn?" His height is an advantage in this situation, and he uses it to make you step backwards towards the bed.

"Do I need to remind you that this entire thing is your fault?You are always so out of line; you just can't help yourself, can you?" Days of pent-up anger at the boy in front of you bubbled up to the surface. Your fists are clenched by your side, something Billy finds quite endearing. You were right; he couldn't help himself. It was too easy to get you this way: defensive, riled up, with a spunk nobody else in the group had seen except for him. He knew it was in there somewhere; he just didn't expect to find your buttons so quickly.

"What did you say earlier?" He cocks his head to the side, and his forehead creases. A beat passes, and he snaps his fingers. "That's right, you'd rather rot than talk to me. Rot, Arizona. Bit harsh, isn't it?" He speaks evenly, his words laced with condescension.

"I meant it, and I still mean it," you confirm. "You had no right to do what you did."

"Oh, I know that. For the record, I am very sorry about how it all happened," he says, rocking back on his heels a couple times. You allow his words to go in one ear and out of the other.

"But if I hadn't, you wouldn't have told them. You and Tatum seem like two peas in a pod again, so was it that horrible?" His hands are held out, palms facing up as if to say, see? It all worked out.

It takes a moment for you to decide if you want to even entertain this.

"That's... Billy, that's not the point. It turned out okay, but it's the principle of the situation." You are too exhausted by the subject to continue holding your ground.

"Girls and their principles," he chuckles. You raise your eyebrows and shake your head once, about to really force your way out, but Billy tries to dial it back.

"It's a joke, Arizona. Relax. I really am sorry. I was a dick that night, and I would probably be one again. But everything is fine now." This boy needs an extensive course on the art of a meaningful apology.

You sigh, almost in defeat. Billy was so caught up in the specific situation that he was neglecting everything that occurred before it. You'd opened up to him; you'd trusted him with your feelings. You told him something you hadn't even told your best friend, and he used it against you.

"That night in my room?" You start, jogging his memory for him since he had clearly forgotten. "I thought you were actually hearing me. I thought I was gaining another friend before I left, and you didn't care. You embarrassed me in front of everyone, yeah. But you also just..." You trail off, and this is why you didn't drink tequila. You can feel your eyes heating up, and you have to catch your lip between your teeth to keep it from trembling.

"I what?" He asks. He's speaking softly now, inching closer to you.

You don't want to say it. You'd come to terms with the fact that Billy was not your friend, but it was unusual how simply unkind he could be. You had only been crying because of hurting Tatum, but you hadn't fully processed your feelings about what Billy had done. You were so intent on soaking up more good with your best friends that you ignored the other side of the coin. Now it was just the two of you a third time, and even after your bold display downstairs, you are still scared to tell him how you feel.

"You really hurt me, Billy." You finally breathe, and Billy is right in front of you. As quickly as the air comes in, it leaves again. You blink profusely, trying your best to keep any rebellious tears at bay. For the first time, Billy feels. a pang of guilt. He wasn't the most emotionally intelligent guy on the planet, but he thought he had enough awareness to remember that this was a layered betrayal for you.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." It's the first offering of regret that you believe, albeit not completely. Each shot of tequila has relaxed you up to this point, but you feel that familiar air coming around you again, of your defenses being broken down with hardly any effort. You don't respond, and Billy takes it as an opportunity to move closer. Now you are almost nose to nose, Billy shrinking down to meet your height.

His eyes have that same look that you'd seen the night in your bedroom. His hair is falling in the exact same place. Deja-vu strikes you in the gut when you realize that once again, you haven't moved an inch. Billy's hand comes up to cup your cheek, head tilted slightly so he can get a good look at you.

"You are so confusing," you confess, mustering up enough nerve to make eye contact. The corner of his lip comes up in a half-smile; he knows he's confusing. It's not an accident.

"I know; it's what makes me interesting." He remarks, and your head shakes in disagreement. His hand is cupping your chin now. You're talking in order to keep yourself from passing out from the overwhelming heat beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

"You don't have to be an asshole to be interesting, Billy." Your head is spinning from the proximity of your bodies. You begin to think back to your first encounter in Stu's garage—how charming he appeared to be and how easily his compliments rolled off his tongue. Even in your bedroom, he seemed endearing before it went downhill. In a different circumstance, you actually might've liked him.

"Then what else should I be, hm? Any suggestions?" Before you can answer, his thumb swipes languidly over your bottom lip. It seems to draw a deep breath out of you, much to Billy's satisfaction. He has you exactly where he wants you, where he's so easily been able to get you.

"You could try being decent for once," you retort, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you stay firm in your conviction, his touch is getting more distracting as the seconds pass.

Billy's smile widens. "Decent, huh? I can be decent," he replies as his thumb continues its slow descent along your jawline. You almost laugh. He can be decent despite proving otherwise at every turn.

"Everything is okay with your friends. And we're finally alone. Do you want to keep talking about that, or do you want to talk about us?" He challenges. You want to push him away to reclaim some control over the situation. But there's a part of you that's satisfied the longer you stay this close to him. After all, he was right; everything was better now. He was the only loose end that hadn't been tied up. Tatum's advice is echoing in your head; it couldn't possibly be that bad. Could it?

"I don't want to talk." Your voice is low but no longer hesitant. Your eyes trail from his lips up to his eyes, and without needing to say a single word, Billy understands.

His other hand cups just under your ear, and he pulls you the few centimeters of space to close the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours gently. The first thing you notice about his lips is the lingering taste of alcohol. You wonder for only a second if he did the same as you, downing a few shots in preparation for some kind of confrontation. Billy takes his time, his grip on you loose enough that you could pull away at any moment if you wanted to. After weeks of dancing around each other and playing tug of war, every logical part of you wanted to stop this. But the other part of you that never gave in to anything but always wanted to try—that part was much stronger right now.

Your hands come up to wrap around Billy's wrists, and slowly but surely you stop fighting all of your urges to stay away from him. Billy takes this as a signal that you want this just as much as he did, likely for very different reasons. You feel his hands trail down to your lower back, resting right on the dip before the top of your jeans. Your hands find their way to his shoulders instead, and Billy begins stepping back towards the bed.

You follow his every move, completely enthralled by the warmth pooling between your legs to take notice, or really to even care. Billy's tongue swipes along your lower lip just as he sits on the edge of the bed, using his hands to guide you onto his lap. You welcome his tongue into your mouth and greet it with your own, your fingers moving to clasp around the back of his neck.

The excitement was starting to kick in, and kissing Billy turned out to be the most incredible thing you'd done in a while. Your best friend's words come back again, and this time you have every intention of listening to them.

Your lips are still moving with his near-perfectly. It is a shock after telling yourself how incompatible you were and putting so much of your energy into making sure he knew just how much you couldn't stand him. A wave of urgency passes over you, and you're pressing yourself against him without a second thought. Billy groans when you brush against the steadily growing bulge in his pants, so you do it again.

Billy pulls away just enough so he can speak, his lips even pinker than usual. "Slow down, Arizona. We have plenty of time," he teases you, and this time you don't take it personally. Your heart is racing, and you don't know what's making you feel more drunk: Billy or the tequila.

"Sorry, sorry." You shake your head, attempting to get yourself to think clearly. Billy's hands are comfortable on your hips, his fingers dipping just below your waistband to rub small circles.

"It's okay. Just come here," he says softly, easing you forward, his lips touching your throat instead this time. He places a few kisses, and a shiver runs down your spine that makes your back arch. He catches your lips again, but it's even slower this time. He's torturing you. You whine, beginning to get a little greedy when you hear someone who is definitely not Billy.

"Well, well, well," Stu leans against the doorframe, shaking his head in amusement. You've never moved so fast before in your life, hopping off of Billy's lap and scrambling to try and look like you weren't just devouring him.

"I fucking knew it; I told you!" He pumps both fists into the air triumphantly. Tatum and Randy soon pop up right behind him, and you begin to swear under your breath, hiding your face in your hands. Billy is sitting next to you, leaning back on his hands as if nothing was happening.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Randy is beside himself, pointing between you two with a look of horror. Stu nearly collapses in a fit of laughter, and Tatum stands with her arms crossed, trying to hide her smile.

"Movie's over, freaks. Let's go home." She cocks her head to the side, signaling for you to get up so you can catch your ride back. Thank god for Tatum, whether it’s intentional or not she is helping you avoid further humiliation.

Billy remains quiet, and you almost look to him for some kind of help. What were either of you supposed to say?

You clear your throat and adjust your shirt, avoiding giving him a second glance, and do the short walk of shame out of the bedroom. Randy is speaking nonsensically—a string of questions and words that don't make any sense. What you don't see is Billy hiding a smile of his own, even coughing to try and remain as stoic as possible. You hustle down the stairs, flushed with embarrassment, and follow Tatum outside to her car.

Your seatbelts are on, and the radio is off. Now that you're out of that room, the reality of what just happened settles on you. Tatum is looking at you from the corner of her eye, trying to gauge if she should say anything or wait until tomorrow. You look at her, and a few more seconds of silence pass between both of you, and you burst into laughter.

The third time was most definitely a charm.

#billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #scream #scream 1996 #billy loomis fanfiction #billy loomis smut #ghostface x reader #billy loomis x you #billy loomis x fem!reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher x fem!reader #skeet ulrich #skeet ulrich x reader #skeet ulrich x you #scream movie

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year

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Jungkook: By chance(short 1)

In which Jungkook gets to know his soulmate and can't help but fall deeper and deeper in love.

Tags/Warnings: Soulmate AU, Idol!Jungkook, slight angst, major fluff, no one asked but I still deliver, Jungkook having impure thoughts oops

Length: short/mid

Belongs to: By Chance

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"Did you order this much?" He laughs to himself as he brings in all the takeout boxes. You jump up to help, nodding eagerly, your phone now discarded on his couch. You've visited him after he'd asked if you wanted to spend some time with him- get to know him, seeing as you're soulmates.

"I haven't eaten all day - and honestly, I paid for it, so who cares! Those cinnamon bites will still taste good tomorrow morning for breakfast. And before you ask, I do plan on taking this stuff home with me if we don't finish it." You shrug, bringing the other boxes Jungkook couldn't hold into the living room.

"How much do I owe you?" He asks, already taking his phone out, and you just lick your finger after having opened some boxes to look what's what, shaking your head.

"Your honest opinion on the chicken, really. I've never ordered those, but they do look very hot right now, not gonna lie." You say, sitting down before stretching your legs. Your shorts reveal a tattoo on your leg that seems to travel high up- he's spotted a glimpse of something up to your rib when your stretched earlier, rising fabric of your shirt having also revealed a sparkling butterfly hanging from a silver piercing decorating your belly button. It makes him wonder how much more you hide away from his eyes, what might be there to discover for him.

You seem to be such a free spirit- an uncaged bird, open, colorful, exciting. You're infectious too, your bubbly nature easily making him feel all happy and relaxed. And he swears that's not just his soulmate bond speaking. He truly believes he would've at least developed a crush on you no matter the circumstances, really. You're cute, a little wild, testing him as if to see if he's able to tame you. You're exactly his type, not just physically.

Your beauty is simply a bonus- a pretty soul safely tucked into an equally pretty body.

"I love them, even if they're a little greasy. I've got a horrible love for fried foods." He laughs, sitting down to eat across from you.

"Would've never guessed." You smile. "Not to insult you, really. But I always thought every Idol, you know, is obsessed with dieting and staying away from anything that could have more calories than a carrot." You say, before holding a hand towards your mouth, eyes wide. "Oh my God, that sounded so rude, fuck!" You shake your head. "Now I cursed, I'm sorry, fuck- I mean not fuck, shit- I mean-" you whine to yourself putting your face in your hands while Jungkook laughs across from you.

"You're fine, really, it's okay." He reassures. "I'm not that sensitive, and honestly, a lot of idols do be like that." He shrugs.

"Maybe? I mean, I probably shouldn't even bring that topic up. I don't wanna be nosy." You say quietly, stealing a piece of chicken from him before you freeze in your motions. "Oh God I should've asked- why am I like this?!" You scold yourself, and he smiles brightly towards you.

"You're cute, nothing wrong with it." He flirts.

You look at him a little playfully suspicious before you continue eating. "If you're aiming at getting into my pants, I might have to disappoint you, mister." You say, and his eyes widen while he stops chewing for a second. "In front of you sits a very awkward virgin that's not even sure if she even likes sex, or kissing, or anything of that nature really. I'm just putting it out there, lay my cards on the table, I guess." You shrug before taking a sip of your soda.

"May I ask why?" He wonders respectfully, wiping his fingers on a napkin close by. "I'll respect your decision, obviously. I'm just curious, I guess." He clarifies, and you shrug.

"You've got every right to be." You nod, licking your lips. "I guess every guy has always been so.. pushy with it to the point where I didn't want to do it simply just to spite them." You explain, not looking at him. "Wanted to see how they'd react if I said that I didn't want to. You know, neither kiss nor have sex. Like a test, to see if they're any good." You tell him, and he nods.

"And none ever passed the test?" He asks, making you shrug as you look at him now.

"I mean, there's one who's on a pretty good road of maybe being the first to do just that." You say, and he smiles charmingly, fingers playing with his lip ring for a second before he turns serious again.

"All jokes aside, I really am okay with that." He says. "I didn't invite you here to fuck you, nor do I ever plan on doing that. Putting up a facade to tangle you into something, I mean. I'd fuck you if you'd want me to, just to be clear here." He tells you, reaching over to steal a few sips of your drink.

"Well, you stole an indirect kiss now, so that gonna be some points added to your fuckboy-ness." You say, crossing your arms- unaware probably that he now gets a very attractive sight of your cleavage now.

"We can easily make it a direct one too, if you want." He flirts again, and you stay quiet for a second, almost making him apologize- until you actually speak again, softly.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind.." you mumble.

"You don't have to push yourself." He tells you calmly. "I'm sorry if it felt like I was trying to convince you. I'm only joking around."

"No-" you start, looking everywhere but him. "-I, don't know, I actually do wanna try it with you. See if I like it." You say. "But, you know, only if you're up for it too."

"I'd be dumb to say no to kissing a pretty girl like you." He shrugs with a boyish smile before he gets up from the floor and squats down in front of you, his hands on your knees as you're still sitting on his couch. He chuckles at your shyness a bit before he slowly leans upwards, making sure to check until the very last second for any signs of you becoming uncomfortable. But that moment never comes, and when his lips make contact with yours for a short peck, your hands find his to hold onto, making him smile into the kiss before he parts from you. "Good? You're free to say if it wasn't, I'm really cool with that." He says, and you nod.

"Never really knew what to expect from a kiss, really." You shrug. "But it's nice. I liked it." You nod.

"Wait that was your first kiss?!" He now asks, and you nod.

"Wasn't that obvious? I thought I made it obvious." You laugh, and he laughs as well.

"I mean, I understood the virgin part, but I thought, you know, a pretty girl like you would've at least been kissed before." He says, and you playfully hit his chest, making him fall dramatically on his butt.

"Oh come on now prince charming, go eat your greasy chicken." You tease, making him grin.

Yeah- he really believes he's gonna fall for you. Maybe he already has.

Either way- he doesn't mind one bit.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader

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imeanyourmomsprettyhot · 10 months

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You Have No Right || Aemond Targaryen

prologue

story masterlist / masterlist

summary: Driven by sheer desire, the One-Eyed Prince tries to find the woman that caused his sleepless nights full of lust and frustration.

warnings: female!reader, dark and possessive Aemond, sexual scenes, violent scenes

comment if you want to be on the tag list!

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King's Landing at night was always a spectacle. The streets were filled with light, laughter, and sex. People were shouting, some fought, others stole. The town was never quiet and empty, but it was the brightest at night, that was for sure.

A young girl walked through the crowded town. In her pocket, a silver coin she got from her mother. She's supposed to buy something for her—a special tea.

She rushed between the people, trying her best to not be seen. It was a talent of her's to stay hidden and easy to oversight, tiptoeing around like a ghost—like she was never there.

She made it out of the thick and hot air of the loaded streets, to a much darker and gloomier side of the city. It was the part of humanity no one wanted to talk about. The place where inappropriate deals were made, ineffable topics discussed, and awful jobs done—and it was exactly this place that she had to go.

She was not a bad girl—she tried to be as virtuous as the daughter of a whore could be. She did not belong in the dark alleys of King's Landing, but she had to get Moon Tea for her mother. Otherwise she was forced to get another child she could not care for.

So the girl sneaked around the cold stones, the gaze of the walls following her around.

It took not long until she found the woman she was supposed to go to—people said she was a witch.

The girl knocked on the door of the witch to soon be greeted by an old pair of eyes. A wrinkly woman opened the door, a few strands of hair were laying over her face.

Before the girl could open her mouth, the witch has already pulled her into her home. She looked around the streets, if anyone was following her, before she closed the small door.

"What are you looking for?" She asked.

The girl was looking around the dark room which was only lit up by a few candles. Bundles of herbs were hanging on the walls and a lot of bottles, filled with all different types of liquids, were laying around.

"I need moon tea..." The girl whispered, ashamed of asking for such a thing.

Wordlessly, the witch went over to one of the cabinets, rummaging in the drawers.

"Are you a whore?" She suddenly asked.

"No, I'm not!" The girl quickly denied.

The witch didn't say anything more about it, as she was probably just asking out of curiosity. She came back to the girl. In her hand, a small bottle.

"Let it simmer on a low flame, and don't let it come to boil," the witch instructed.

A long silence followed, until the girl realized it came to the point of paying. She pulled the silver coin out of her pocket and gave it to the woman in exchange for the bottle.

The witch led the girl to the door, closing it behind her, before exchanging any more words with her. The young girl turned around, the tea secured in her bag.

She made her way through the murky streets, keeping her view down. She was as inconspicuous as she could, as she walked through the part of the town no one should go to.

A sudden noise made her jump up, turning her head. A shiver creeped up her spine, as she suddenly felt more uncomfortable than she already did. She noticed footsteps coming closer to her, as her feet stroke deeper and deeper roots down in the ground.

A shadow crawled out of the darkness of the alley, but the girl still couldn't move a muscle.

"Empty your pockets!" A deep voice commanded.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, the figure of a man was already standing right in front of her, pulling her on her arm and pushing her on the wall.

As the cold stone hit her back, her mind came back to her body. She finally realized what was happening and anxiously looked the man in the face.

"EMPTY YOUR POCKETS!" He barked.

The frightened girl slid her shaking hands in her bag and took all the coins she had left, out of it.

"I want all you have, girl!" His breath smelled like rum.

The weak-spirited girl fully emptied her pockets, giving the man anything she had. But he kept looking at her, observing her face.

"I gave you all I had," she quietly cried out.

She was scared for her life—scared that he might kill her. But he had completely different things in mind. He looked down on the girl, examining her body. At that moment, she knew what was going to happen.

She opened her mouth to scream for help—though she didn't believe anyone in those dark streets would want to help her. But only a short bawl came out of her mouth, before the man pressed his hand over it.

He forcefully turned her around, pressing her head on the ice cold bricks of the wall they were standing on. His hand was still tightly wrapped around her jar, making her unable to let any sound leave her lips.

She breathed heavily, while the man pulled up her dress. She tried her best to fight back, but he was stronger than her—drunk but still too strong. She closed her eyes, trying to leave her body again.

But before the man could do any more, he suddenly let go of her. She turned around, to find the man laying on the ground. Her body was still trembling from the rush of adrenaline.

She was so fixated on the man, who was soon standing on his feet again, that she almost didn't notice the figure standing beside her.

The cloaked shadow rushed over to the man, punching him in the face. He fell on the ground again, a loud hiss came from him. The other person sat on the man, continuing to punch him over and over again.

The man growled in pain, until the other one finally stopped. He pulled anything the man had, out of his pockets, before getting up from him. The man quickly got up too, running away, back into darkness.

The cloaked silhouette came over to the girl, while her heart leaped into her throat. She gripped onto the stone behind her, as the shadow approached her. But to her surprise, he handed her the things from the man's pockets over.

"Th-thank you," she silently stuttered.

"A young lady should stay away from this part of the city." The voice of a young man came from the silhouette.

The closer he got, the more she could make out what the man looked like. He had the hood of his cloak pulled over his face, yet she was able to see parts of his face. Like the piece of leather over one of his eyes, as well as a few white strands that fell over the other—he was her savior.

"I-I-I know, sir." She kept her view down, while he was carefully looking at her face.

"I'll bring you out of her, come."

She couldn't say anything more, before he already started walking down the street. She stuffed the things in her bag, and quickly followed behind.

"What is your name, young lady?" He suddenly asked.

'Why did he want to know that?' She asked herself. But he saved her from shame and violence, so she decided to not discuss his intentions any longer and told him her name.

He hummed in response.

"A beautiful name, if you ask me."

"Thank you, sir." She looked up to his face, but he was just blankly staring to the front, "And what's your name?"

"Not important." He replied.

The girl wondered what that was supposed to mean. Why didn't he want to tell her his name?

Meanwhile, the man debated in his head why he helped the girl. It was none of his business and he didn't care for anything happening to the lowborn. He didn't need to help anyone, he didn't want to—yet he did. And he had troubles understanding why. Why caring about a girl being raped? It was not his problem she got herself into this situation.

The dim streets came to an end, as laughter and music was heard in the distance. The sound approximated and the light started beaming through the windows of the houses, and they soon were standing in the crowded alleys again.

She turned around, wanting to thank her savior one last time, but he was already gone. She just saw his cloak disappear in the crowd, and it was the last time that she saw him.

<< next chapter >>

#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #aemond x reader #smut #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic

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cerealforkart · 8 months

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Announcements and Updates

I already mentioned this with my anniversary comic this morning (I'm glad people seemed to like "it's back on air"), but Dungeons and Daddies the Manga is a whole year old today and I wanted to talk about a couple things!

For starters, thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me, from those of you who have been here since lesson 1 to those of you who only just discovered lesson 42 yesterday (you probably don't exist because the tags hated lesson 42). Whether you like or reblog every single lesson, you silently read the updates without ever interacting with them, and even if you fell out of the fandom but you read the manga at some point, I appreciate you all so deeply.

I might be making this a bigger deal than it actually is, but Dungeons and Daddies the Manga is a really special project to me. I'm so proud of my growth and I've put a genuinely crazy amount of time and effort into this. There was a time when I was trying to catch up when this was basically a second job. I would come home from work and draw manga pages until I went to sleep, it was all I did, it probably wasn't healthy tbh. People in the discord know, I've gotten crazy efficient at making these, if I don't have anything else going on, I can pump out 2-3 of these a day when new episodes drop. I've never undertaken a project this big before, I'm more the kind of person with a million abandoned first chapters, so to actually still be keeping up with this is huge for me, so I'm hyping this up a little bit.

If anyone has ever thought, "wow, I would love to support cereal financially! They seem to work very hard and would probably really like some money! I would also love some of cereal's cute art to plaster on my belongings," please keep your eyes open, I'll be dropping stickers in near future (Taylor in the trash can will be one of them)! I meant to have them ready for today, but I've never sold anything online before, and I'm kind of stumbling through the process. I'll try to have them up soon! So keep an eye out in the upcoming weeks.

For those of you who only care about Dungeons and Daddies the Manga, you can stop reading here, thank you so much for enjoying my manga this past year! For anyone interested in some personal updates and projects, please keep reading, I've been working on something I'm finally ready to announce.

I've learned a lot from my work on Dungeons and Daddies the Manga. My art has improved a lot, and it's still improving all the time, and I've really come to love making comics. Which is why maybe it won't be so surprising to learn I've decided to start an original webcomic. This webcomic won't interfere with my work on the manga, no need to worry, but as much as I love the manga, and the DnDads community, there's only so much I feel like I get back from it. I've been pouring so much time, energy, and love into Dungeons and Daddies the Manga over the past year, and I'm so proud of my product, but I want to start putting some of all that into something that's actually mine. I've been through a weird past couple of months where I went through some really bad burnout, looked around my life and realized "oh wow, this ALL sucks! I don't like a single thing I have going on here!" So, I quit my job, moved, and while I've been restructuring my life, I started dusting off some of those old abandoned first chapters I mentioned earlier and getting back into original work.

The webcomic is called The Rotting Things, I've teased it a very little bit here and there. It's about a boy with a power that is slowly but surely killing him and a man said to be unable to die trying to maneuver through a world of magic that hates anyone unlucky enough to be able to wield it.

I'm kind of nervous about starting a webcomic, but I've been waiting to be "good enough" to put something out there for a very long time, and I'm trying to come to terms with the fact I'll never be fully happy with my own work and just diving in. It would mean a lot to me if anyone wanted to give it a chance.

An eight page prologue will be dropping next Friday, September 29th, after which pages will start to drop one at a time every Friday. We'll see how I handle the one update a week schedule, it might go up to two pages a week depending on how confident I feel. Just like the manga was, this will be a learning curve for me, but I'm eager to try it out! Please give it a shot!

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #noodly #the rotting things

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heartofspells · 9 months

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on the etiquette of fandom respect

I'm not sure why I'm doing this, really. We've all seen those other posts that circulate around (or the vast majority of us have, at least from my notice) discussing things like negativity towards creators and proper etiquette when it comes to commenting and bookmarking and sharing another person's work. It always seems to fly in one ear and out the other, yet here I am, preparing to write an essay, mainly because I don't think we should ever stop saying it in the hopes of improvement.

Let's start this with bookmarks on AO3, because it seems like people either forget, they don't know, or possibly they simply do not care. Bookmarks can be seen by creators. Meaning they can see your tags, your bookmark collections, and your bookmark comments. There are numerous creators who enjoy going through the bookmarks on their works to see these things, because it's extra insight into why someone liked or even loved that creation, most times. There are also, in my experience, a lot of people who bookmark works and do not comment, so again, it gives the creator that extra special boost to keep doing what they're doing, to create more.

Leaving personal rating scores for a work, downgrading comments, or, in all honesty, opinions on what you did not like in the work is unkind. No one is coming to attack how you choose to keep track of your bookmarks, but please remember these are PUBLIC unless otherwise chosen by you. You can, however, make private bookmarks that only you can view. Even the creators cannot see these beyond a number of how many bookmarks a work collectively has. If you have a rating system or opinions on a work that could even remotely be construed as unkind, please make your bookmarks private. It's incredibly simple. There is a checkbox to select.

Now onto comments and the etiquette behind it. No one is forcing you to comment. While it is appreciated by all creators, it isn't a requirement. Creators love hearing from everyone who views their work. Comments bolster creators, encourage them to continue creating if they love doing it, which most creators do. But if the only thing you can think to say is something demeaning, criticizing, or has no bearing on the work you just viewed, it's probably better not to say anything at all. If you have questions, ask them. Creators love talking about their works, typically. Most will jump at the chance for a discussion. But this does not give anyone the right to ask accusatory questions that degrade a person's work. Also, leaving a comment about any work that blatantly goes against the very obviously stated tags/warnings, or leaving a comment that is short and brief and really doesn't make any sort of reference to the work itself is rude, plain and simple. Do not do that.

You are not being asked to leave a novel behind in your comment (though that's almost always appreciated to a massive extent). Leave a few kind words about liking or loving the work, because just something as simple as "loved this!" goes a long way as encouragement. If you have the time or something specific, tell the creator about a part you liked. They'll adore you for it. But again, none of it is a requirement. All creators ask for is a bit of common sense and respect from people in exchange for what they've created. Basic rule of thumb: ask yourself if you made something you were proud of and showed it to someone, would you be happy or hurt by the comment you're about to leave?

Lastly, let's discuss credit. It's seen a lot, and pretty much everywhere now. Someone finds artwork or a fic or maybe even a simple quote from a work they enjoy, and they repost it with no credit, not even a title (in regards to fics). No reference back to the creator at all. Stop gatekeeping works that do not belong to you. You do not own those works. They have been shared with you, nothing more. By transferring them or even a piece of them somewhere else without proper credit, you are not only removing someone else's ability to properly view this work without directly asking what it's from (if they ask at all, which most do not), you are taking that potential encouragement away from the creator and making them feel worthless.

These works, whatever they may be, were created for you. You may try to argue that they were shared in a public forum, and the creator should understand that by doing so, they're opening themselves up to potential criticism, theft, and even bullying. And you would be right, creators are fully aware of this. But here's the thing: these works, at least in a fandom setting, are being created for FREE. A person is taking time out of their life to make this wonderful thing, and they are offering it humbly solely for the pleasure of doing it, to bring you pleasure.

And you might even argue that creators are not making these things for you, but for the world. But aren't you part of the world? Did you find and are you reading/viewing/listening to these works? If so, then yes, they were created for you, with you in mind. All creators ask for in return, literally the only thing, is some basic human kindness and decency, because creators are not required to share anymore than you're required to comment or spread their works around.

Some creators have thicker skins than others, but keep going as we have been, and one day, the content you love so much might be gone. It's already beginning to disappear for lesser things. Don't be the reason it continues.

#food for thought #fandom etiquette #comment etiquette #free advise #take it or leave it #i'm sure it'll be left and overlooked or ignored #but at least i've tried and said my peace

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sidekick-hero · 3 months

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"He probably thinks I don't love him, Robin. Which is... ridiculous. I do! I really, really do. I just can't say it." Steve is pacing around the blissfully empty Family Video Store, his hands making a mess of his hair as they run through it in frustration.

"This is so stupid. I* am* so stupid, it's just four stupid letters, even a preschooler can say it," he rambles, his eyes wild as they look at Robin. "Why am I like this, Robbie?" His voice breaks, along with his heart, at the thought of Eddie doubting Steve's feelings for him for even a second.

Robin walks over to him and grips his shoulders tightly, her blue eyes boring into his as she says in her firmest you-listen-to-me-now voice. "You're not stupid. This is my best friend you're talking about, so watch it." That earns her at least a half-smile, which counts as a victory considering Steve was already pinching his nose to hold back tears.

"I know you love him, Steve. Everyone knows it. One look at you when he's in the room, or even when you're just talking about him, is enough to know you love him. And I'm sure Eddie knows it too. He has to."

Robin's words soothe some of the fear in Steve's heart, knowing that she would tell him if she really thought he had messed up. But even though it's okay now, Eddie won't wait forever for Steve to say those three little words. No one would. Steve knows that his heart couldn't take being with Eddie, loving Eddie and telling him that, only to never hear it back from him.

"I don't know. Even if you're right, I feel like I'm losing him. That something in me is broken, and one day he'll realize that too, and then he'll leave." With an even smaller voice Steve adds: "I can't lose him, Robbie".

They don't hug very often. Robin shows her affection in many ways, but most of them aren't overly physical. That's Eddie's job, clinging to Steve like a koala most days, always touching Steve in some way, even if it's just his shoulder nudging Steve's. Robin pulling him into a tight hug now means a lot to him, but it's also a testament to the gravity of the situation.

With their arms around each other between the horror and action movie sections, Steve takes a moment to just soak in the comfort she offers. What happened at Starcourt messed them both up, caused them both more trauma than any teenager should have to deal with, but on a very selfish level, Steve can't help but be grateful that it happened. A life without Robin Buckley sounds like the greater horror to him.

After a few minutes, Robin gently pulls away from Steve to look at him. He's reluctant to let her go, even though he knows this is an even longer hug than the one she gave him when Nancy told him they weren't getting back together after defeating Vecna. She wanted to go to Boston, make a career, see the world. And Steve? Steve wanted a home, a place to belong, and someone to share that home with. They wanted different things, he realizes now.

That doesn't mean it didn't open old wounds, memories of how it felt to be rejected by her, his love for her thrown in his face like it was worthless. Bullshit.

As attuned to him and his thoughts as ever, a true testament to the fact that they share a brain cell, Robin says, "I think it's understandable that you can't say it. The last time you told someone you loved them, you were hurt, badly. Your heart is probably just trying to protect itself. Like a kid who touched a hot stove and got burned wouldn't touch another stove, you know?"

Steve nods, because in a way it makes sense. It just doesn't help him to know.

"But what am I supposed to do, Robin? It's not Eddie's fault that I'm broken."

"You, Steve Harrington, are not broken. Just a little bruised. There is nothing wrong with you just because you got hurt and have the scars to show for it. Like Max, because of the injuries to her leg, she cannot walk like she used to before Vecna, so she uses her crutch. She's not broken. Is she?"

"No, of course not. If anything, she's even stronger now, I saw her hit Lucas with the crutch and tell him to hurry up on the way to the movies," Steve says, smiling at the memory.

"See!" Robin waves her hand at him in excitement, almost bouncing with it. "All you need is a crutch!"

They look at each other wide-eyed before matching smiles break out on their faces, Robin's giddy at having found a solution, Steve's reflecting the tentative hope blossoming in his chest.

His talk with Robin certainly helped, but as Valentine's Day approaches, the fears and insecurities start to creep back in. It's not even like Eddie is giving him any indication that he's not happy with Steve or their relationship. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Eddie tells him he loves him almost every time they see each other, at the most random moments. Some days he whispers it in Steve's ear to wake him up, other days it's his way of saying good night to him with his arm around Steve's waist and his hand over Steve's heart in a protective grip. He says it casually when Steve brings him breakfast in bed or lunch to the record store where he now works. Just yesterday he said it while Steve was buried deep inside him, their hands intertwined beside Eddie's head and brown eyes looking softly up at Steve.

It's not meant to make him feel bad about himself, he knows that.

He still does.

So when he opens his front door to the sight of Eddie standing on his doorstep in his nicest jeans and a forest green button-down Steve has never seen before, clearly having put some real effort into his appearance, Steve almost crumbles.

He's a shitty boyfriend, isn't he? There's this amazing guy who goes out of his way to look nice for Steve, even though he doesn't even like Valentine's Day, just because he knows it's important to Steve. And he can't even tell him he loves him.

Some of what he's feeling must be showing on his face, because Eddie's cheerful smile falls and he hurries into the house to pull Steve into his arms, slamming the door shut with his foot.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I told Dustin green wasn't my color, but he insisted. I look hideous, don't I?"

That makes Steve snort wetly into Eddie's neck before muttering a fond "Idiot" into it.

Eddie just hums, obviously pleased with himself for making Steve laugh. "You can tell me. You know I don't mind getting naked for you."

"You're getting a little ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Eddie grinned wolfishly at him. "I don't know, the tear in my Hellfire shirt from when you ripped it off me begs to differ."

Steve blushes at the memory, even as he laughs at Eddie's words. Instead of saying anything else, Steve pulls him back into his arms and Eddie goes willingly.

"Hi, baby," he says, his nose brushing behind Steve's ear.

"Hi." Steve breathes him in, the smell of cigarette smoke and his shampoo strong where his nose is buried in Eddie's hair.

They don't let go for a long time.

It's Eddie who pulls back first, and Steve does his best not to read into it. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

The Steve from before the Upside Down would have just shaken his head and told Eddie that everything was fine before pulling him into the bedroom to reassure them both that it was. Not talking about his feelings, fears, and needs might have worked for hookups, but he learned the hard way that it doesn't work when you want to be in a relationship.

So Steve takes Eddie's hand and leads him over to the couch where they both sit facing each other. They don't let go of each other's hands.

"I know you're probably wondering why I haven't told you... why I haven't said it yet."

Eddie's eyebrows disappear behind his fringe. "It?"

Sighing, Steve watches his fingers run over Eddie's knuckles. "You know. That I love you."

"Oh."

It's hard to place Eddie's tone, and even harder to place the silence that follows, but it makes his knee jiggle with nerves and his stomach churn. Usually it's Eddie who tends to fill the silence between them when it feels too big, too heavy, but today it's Steve.

"It's not because I don't want to, I swear. It's just," another frustrated sigh, the hand currently not held by Eddie's rubbing over his face, "I just can't say it. And I am so, so sorry, because you deserve to hear it. Every day. But I can't... I can't. So I understand if you don't want to do this anymore. You deserve better, Eddie. You really, really do."

Eddie lets Steve's words settle between them, aching and raw, but he never lets go of Steve's hand.

"You're right," he finally says, and the sound of Steve's heart breaking is deafening to his own ears. Pinching his nose, he tries to take his hand back from Eddie, but his boyfriend (if he can still call him that) won't budge. "You're right about me wondering, Steve. But that was before."

Looking up, a frown forming between his eyebrows, Steve asks, "Before?"

"Before I realized that you do tell me that you love me, every day. You say it when you tiptoe around the trailer in the morning to make breakfast without waking me. You tell me every time you pack an extra blanket or sweater when we go to the quarry because you know I always get cold. I hear it loud and clear every time you bring me lunch, even though it means you waste most of your own lunch break driving around town. It's in the way you try so hard to make Wayne like you because you know how much that means to me, and in the way you hold me after another nightmare, and in the way you kiss me sometimes like there's nothing in the world you'd rather be doing, without it having to lead anywhere, just because you like kissing me."

Eddie scooted forward and bridged the gap between them by taking Steve's face in his hands.

"Steve, you've been telling me you love me for months with everything except words. I don't really need them. It's just a four-letter word."

And, fuck, now Steve is crying. Eddie wipes away his tears with his thumbs, and when that's not enough, he kisses them away with his lips.

Steve is so in love with him that he has no idea how the feeling even fits in his body.

"Damn," he chuckles wetly, "that means I didn't even have to find a crutch?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to look at Steve in confusion, clearly worried that his boyfriend might have lost his mind. "What crutch? Is this a sex thing?"

Laughing and shaking his head fondly, Steve raises his free hand to his head, palm facing Eddie. Then he brings his thumb, index finger, and little finger up, keeping his ring and middle fingers down, before moving his hand back and forth slightly.

"Robin came up with this. She said if I couldn't say the words with my mouth, maybe I could say them in a different way. I thought of trying sign language," Steve adds sheepishly.

Before he knows what's happening, Eddie is on top of him, pressing him into the couch with his body weight and showering his face with kisses.

"You're so smart," kiss, "and beautiful," kiss, "and wonderful," kiss, "and I love you so much." The last part is accompanied by a lingering kiss on his lips and Steve melts under it.

Even though he obviously didn't have to tell Eddie this way, Steve is glad that he did.

He also thinks it won't be long before he can say those words, too. If anyone can help him walk without a crutch, it's Eddie.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 27 #love is just a 4 letter word #my writing

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papermint-airplane · 3 months

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OC Questionnaire

I was tagged by @stargazer-sims, @drawing-way-outside-the-lines, @bool-prop, and @happy-lemon. Hehehehehe now I get to do more than one! 😈

Aiden Ayy 👽

Name: Aiden Ayy

Nickname: He was definitely that kid who tried to nickname himself and then got frustrated when nothing stuck. Despite his best childhood efforts, Aiden has no nicknames. 😭

Gender: Male

Star sign: Gemini ♊

Height: 5'8"

Orientation: Pansexual

Nationality/Ethnicity: 100% Sixamite

Favorite Fruit: On Earth, pineapple. On Sixam, grarglefroot. It's basically a pineapple except blue.

Favorite Season: Spring.

Favorite Flower: I think I answered this before in a different post with some wild ass flower that looks like it belongs on an alien planet which is great worldbuilding and all but I literally forgot what it was so let's go with basic bitch roses. 😅

Favorite Scent: Cinnamon.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Aiden is up for any of these as long as they're spiked. He hasn't yet learned that not everyone does that all the time and that it makes you look like you have a problem if you do.

Average Hours of Sleep: Aiden doesn't actually need sleep! He meditates to restore his brain power but sleep isn't necessary for him. He's a lot like D&D elves in that way. He can choose to sleep if he wants to, though, because dreams are fun and he looks cute when he's eepy. 🥺

Dogs or Cats: Yes. Any animal at all, really. Aiden is fascinated with them.

Dream Trip: Sixam. Poor baby wants to go home. 😭

Number of Blankets: "I'm worried what you just heard was 'give me a lot of blankets'. What I said was 'give me all the blankets you have.' Do you understand?"

Random Fact: Aiden is based on a Sim I created in the Sims 2 when I was 18 for a Bachelorette Challenge. It was, predictably, a disaster, and the poor baby kept having mental breakdowns. I decided it was because he was new to Earth and the stress of all the unfamiliarity wore heavily on him, but it was definitely because I didn't know how to cheat needs at the time. He got a visit from the invisible psychiatrist more than once, you know? It became a character trait! Aiden, the nervous alien who just wants love. 👽💚

Roman Gallan 🧜‍♂️

Name: Roman Gallan

Nickname: "Hey Asshole". Guess who gave him that one. Go on, guess. (It was his little sister)

Gender: Male

Star sign: Leo ♌

Height: 5'11"

Orientation: Gay

Nationality/Ethnicity: Icthyan

Favorite Fruit: He's super fond of this obscure Earth fruit called a "lemon". He eats them whole, peel and all. Somebody please teach him not to do this. 😐

Favorite Season: Summer

Favorite Flower: Any and all wildflowers.

Favorite Scent: Cedar. Beating the moth accusations for sure.

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Coffee. He likes it bitter and strong enough to crawl out of the cup under its own power.

Average Hours of Sleep: 5 or 6. He should probably sleep more but it's kind of hard when the distorted whispers of the primordial god that created your planet are emanating from your eye sockets. Most Icthyans learn to accept it as kind of a cursed ASMR, but Roman tends to sleep light anyway.

Dogs or Cats: Cats.

Dream Trip: It says here in my notes that he's always wanted to visit Uranu--ROMAN, SERIOUSLY?!

Number of Blankets: Roman's a hot sleeper, so no blankets for him, thanks.

Random Fact: Like all Icthyans, Roman is amphibious. He has lungs and can breathe on dry land like any Earth Sim, but he's also able to breathe underwater for an extended period of time.

I think everybody and their dog has done this one by now considering ol' Professional Crastinator Laura's stellar time management skills. 🙄 Let's throw a few names out, though. @miss-may-i, @treason-and-plot, @llamabees, @bellakenobi, @kimmiessimmies, @rebelangelsims, @moyokeansimblr, @id-element0. As always, ignore if you've already done it or just don't want to.

#tag game #tag meme #just simblr things #oc development #oc questions #sim: aiden ayy #sim: roman gallan

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herearedragons · 1 month

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Fan Work Saturday Sunday

I got featured in @dungeons-and-dragon-age's post, so I'm doing this also!

Rules: If you're tagged, MAKE A NEW POST and showcase one fanartist or fanfic you recommend (with links), and tag someone to give their recs next! Don't forget to reblog the rec you were tagged in!

I am going to bend the rules a little because I want to show off stuff both from the Dragon Age and Pillars of Eternity fandoms, so it's going to be two fanart recs and two fic recs, actually.

Fanart rec #1: @dungeons-and-dragon-age

Specifically the June tarot card. I don't know what it is but its muted colors and scratchy textures have captivated me. Somehow you got a digital piece to look like an actual scratched up collectible card someone scanned and posted online? Also it's just a really solid design, I wouldn't question it for a second if I saw this on a book cover or something.

Fanart rec #2: @ederteylegc

For this list I am asking myself "which fanart pieces live in my head rent free" and no one should be surprised that for Pillars of Eternity my answer is Edér fanart. It's just. I love it when a piece of art conveys an idea in shapes and colors and this one does Just That. I really like how it shows The Parallels and I like the color scheme and I like how this just straight up looks like a comic book page.

Fic rec #1: @curiouslavellan

Listen, I have to mention See Fire, And Go Towards Light.

I did not expect to like this fic as much as I do. Like, I expected to like it a normal amount, as in "cool, I get to read about the journeys of my mutual's blorbo! this will be fun to tune into every now and then".

I was not ready for how much I ended up liking the writing itself and the way the main character is written? Her POV as a Tranquil is more distant, but she makes interesting observations about how other people behave around her, and her non-Tranquil POV is just really lovable. The word "immersive" is used for basically anything these days but that's how I would describe the writing in this.

Fic rec #2: @solas-backpack-mug

First of all, I should probably mention that solas-backpack-mug also has an excellent selection of Pillars of Eternity fanart (especially of their ocs Rangi and Asaria, which are technically kind of the same person, it's complicated) in a variety of mediums and fresh home-grown memes.

That being said, I am going to recommend this short fic about Asaria's death, just because I really liked it. If you know the plot of POE1, it's a fun read that does justice to Thaos' whole ominous manipulative deal, and kind of feels like a flashback you would get from touching a relic that used to belong to the unfortunate POV character.

Tagging: everyone mentioned in the recs who hasn't done this yet! Pretty sure that everyone else I can think of has been tagged already.

#fan work recs #tag game #herearedragons speaks #dragon age #pillars of eternity #<- you know what. yeah. this goes in the tags #get recommended

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iprefertheterminsane · 3 months

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Take me Home (Where I Belong)

I'm almost finished with my domestic perryshmirtz 5+1, which I'm gonna upload to ao3 soon so here's a tease in the form of the first chapter!

Rating: G

Relationship: Perry the Platypus/Heinz Doofenshmirtz

Tags: Human Perry the Platypus, pre-slash, domesticity, Perry's moved in before they even stopped calling themselves enemies, it's normal to want to kiss the homies sometimes, right?, long suffering Charlene, Perry's got 4 kids actually and that fourth one is Vanessa, haha Perry the Platypus you are dating my father.

Even after having his plans foiled for the day, Heinz doesn’t let him drive home.

“Look at yourself, Perry the Platypus, you’re barely standing on your own two feet.” The scientist points out. He’s right, of course, not that Perry will let him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. It seems to mean less than little; Heinz had already buckled him back into the passenger seat of his truck with the tenacity of a father, and Perry is just barely conscious enough to comply- a bit dumbly, but the taller man does not seem to mind-without much of a fuss. He’s still talking, naturally. Perry has gotten so used to the chatter the droning had begun to take on an ambient sort of feeling, like brown noise. “-practically an accident waiting to happen. Honestly, you’d think Francis would want to try keeping his best agent alive-that agency is gonna do you in better than I would, one day.”

Perry considers giving up a token protest-he had gotten here with the hoverjet on auto-pilot; the routes between the lair and Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. has long been keyed in as his defaults-but decides otherwise. He really was quite exhausted, surely it would be no bother to let Heinz drive him back to Evil Inc. where he’s parked. Why waste fuel when a cheaper of transport was on offer? The Major has particularly been going on and on lately about turning the office more green and saving energy, no doubt one of their latest efforts to cut costs-so he was doing the agency a favor, really. He trusted that Heinz was a reliable enough driver when they’re neither forced to undergo the serial killing obstacle course that was the Drusselsteinian Driving Test Route.

He would sleep in just until Heinz gets them back home. Decision made, he lets himself rest his eyes.

00..00

“Up, up, up, Perry the Platypus you don’t really expect me to carry you up the stairs do you-,”

“-Ok, here we go, sit here-no, no, don’t lay down just yet you need to take your shoes off Perry the Heathenpuss-,”

“-I am not letting you sleep in the corset of a waistcoat Perry the Platypus, wow is this Kevlar? No wonder you can stand my Titanium punches-Ok uppies, I should probably help you take this tie off too, huh? They could strangle you in your sleep, y’know, nuff said, if nuff was-y’know, me-it’s so weird to see you so biddable, Perry the Platypus-,”

“-ok, last thing Perry the Platypus, yes I promise, just need to help you get under the covers, alright? Now, isn’t that better? Aw, look at how cute you look, Perry the Platypus, like a little angel-,”

“Good night, Perry the Platypus.”

00..00

Perry snorts awake in the penthouse guest room with the covers pulled up to his chin, blinking against the light of the setting sun from behind the half-shaded curtains facing east of Danville.

He isn’t sure what’s woken him, but finds himself unable to go back to sleep. This was probably a good thing-he’s never stayed behind in Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. for so long without making his excuses before, and the clock shows that he’s nearly late for dinner back at the Flynn-Fletcher’s household. He’ll have no trouble flying home now, he feels perfectly well-rested.

Rising to his feet, he finds himself underdressed. His hat rests on the right-hand nightstand, right next to his sleeping head, and the rest of his clothes-vest, tie and shoes-draped carefully over the chair that looks like it’s been dragged over from the kitchen, positioned right next to the room’s entryway, deliberately left ajar. He shoves the hat back over his head and toes his shoes back on, but blinks deliberately at the rest of his attire. They are, of course, crucial parts of his armour, but what was to fear for stepping out without them? Heinz’s scheme was thwarted for the day, and lest the man was suddenly overcome with another plan while Perry was out, which he sincerely doubts, Heinz would not have reason to attack him out of the blue, and certainly not out of armour. He was obsessed with playing fair, and acting by the book. As far as they are both concerned, they were now both off the clock.

Perry decides to take the clothes and fold them over his arm, but he steps out without putting them on- the vest tends to cinch, which he tolerates, but not without reason-and goes to search for his host to make his goodbyes.

It’s easy enough to find him; Heinz is in the kitchen, naturally, making dinner for himself, with Norm at the dining table carefully slicing vegetables and making prep; something doughy, it seems. Perry wonders if it’s pie-Heinz makes wonderful doonkleberry pie. He rests his hips against the doorjamb, and chatters his teeth to make his presence known, a noise Heinz is well familiar with. It cuts off the man’s mindless chatter, and he beams. Perry can’t help his own answering smile.

"Ah, Perry the Platypus!” He crows. “Just in time for dinner! I don’t suppose you mind setting the table, just need to give me another couple of minutes-,” he cuts himself off as he sees Perry shaking his head, and Perry signs, regretfully, that he has to make himself scarce.

“YOU AREN’T STAYING FOR DINNER?” Norm asks, as despairingly as his cheerful-sounding robotic voice could make it sound. His mouth is down turned.

“Yes, it’s already so late, Perry the Platypus, surely your report could wait a couple of more hours.” Heinz adds, cajoling. “I worry you know, a man has to eat homemade meals every couple of days, else you tend to get sick to the stomach. I don’t know if you cook. I’ve made lemon pie for dessert.” Heinz sing-songs enticingly at the end, and Perry has to admit it’s persuasive. The man really does have a knack for baking.

But he’s already missed out on family dinner yesterday, due to making up for Agent G’s maternity leave, and the Flynn-Fletchers would worry if he missed out on another. He knows for a fact Linda’s made her award-winning meatloaf tonight, and hedgehog cake for supper. He’d hate on missing out on the treat for the world.

He’s halfway through realizing he’s said it out loud, ‘I have homemade meals at home,’ before he freezes, taking in Norm’s and Heinz’s curious blinks, and his hands pause abruptly, letting the sentence trail off awkwardly. He could see from the look on Heinz’s face that he was curious, mouth opening as if to pose a question, but seems to ultimately decide against it. They’ve both scrambled enough of the expected norms of their Villain-to-Spy nemesis-ship today, and crossing the line to figuring out Perry’s home life seems a midge too far, even for them.

Heinz hums, and changes the subject. “Are you really driving home fully dressed like that?”

Perry looks down at himself. ‘What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?’

“Nothing, which is my point. You could just leave them here, you know, they’re all dirty, Norm can run them through with the rest of the day’s laundry, and you can pick them up tomorrow. It’s weird to see you all dressed down, you know, but not bad weird, a good weird, makes me feel like a good host. That’s how you know you’re an adult sometimes, ugh, just listen to me talk about good hosting etiquette, Vanessa never has to worry about that sort of thing you know, even though she should. I hope Charlene’s teaching her.”

Perry’s wandered over to the coffee machine at this point, using context clues to figure out how it works and avoiding the large red button in a transparent case on the right-hand side of it’s case. He taps it, and churrs again.

“Oh, coffee! That’s a good idea, Perry the Platypus, some strong caffeine to help drive you through that traffic, I bought this travel mug for you!” Heinz hands him a short and stout chrome and teal travel mug with a silicone top and an anti-slip base. “I saw that color while scrolling through Etsy while I was looking at bento-boxes for this scheme I’m cooking up next week-oop, forget I said that Perry the Platypus, no spoilers! It reminded me of you! But the travel mugs aren’t related, it was just in the same shop, I love travel mugs, especially these newer novelty ones, you know there were never any novelty items back in Drusselstein, on account of the state largely frowning on any sort of color or patterns-,”

Perry churrs again, twisting the top of his cup back on and pointing out the door. Heinz visibly deflates.

“Oh, right, yes, leaving, of course, Perry the Platypus, let me just let this simmer and walk you to the door-and leave the clothes with Norm, Perry the Platypus, I’ve told you, you can come to fetch them tomorrow.”

Heinz helps hold the mug for him while he gets himself settled back in the hoverjet, and the clock on his dash informs him he should reach the house just in time to reach the Flynn Fletchers begin dinner if he rushed. Heinz leans forward to hand him the travel mug, leaving them close, just close enough that Perry feels the ridiculous urge to-maybe-leave a soft kiss on the other man’s cheek, the way Lawrence does when Linda was about to leave the house for the errand of the day.

Heinz doesn’t seem to notice, mumbling about setting the mug just right into the cupholder behind the handlebar, because it was hot, Perry the Platypus, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the driving test incident, do we? When Perry switches the jet on, Heinz waves. Perry, inexplicably, tips his hat back in return.

It isn’t until he’s 15 minutes away from the house that he realizes he really had left his vest and tie behind at Doofenshmirtz Evil Inc. He hopes Heinz doesn’t plan to do anything inadvisable with them.

For some reason, Perry doesn’t believe that he will.

#perryshmirtz #human perry #fic tease #perry the platypus #heinz doofenshmirtz #phineas and ferb #domesticity #5+1 type fic

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