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phoenixcatch7 · 1 year

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Identity reveal shazamily fic idea:

They're fighting some big bad in a huge cave or throne room or in an air pocket miles underwater (the Rock?) and the league and shazamily are all there, every two stuck in separate areas (magic barriers? Cave ins? Enemies simply not letting them close?).

The roof is starting to collapse. Billy catches it, but with his powers divided, he's struggling. With a time limit before he falls, the battle intensifies.

Mary and her jl partner fells her opponent first, and looks across the room just in time to see him stagger under the crushing weight. She cannot reach him (in time?). They meet each others eyes. The wisdom of Solomon, or perhaps Mary batson, has an idea.

In a crash of thunder, she detransforms, in front of their enemies, and the entire justice league.

With power returned, captain marvel stands a bit straighter. The roof grows heavier. Cracks scatter across the high ceiling.

As Mary is carried to safety, the family understands what they must do.

In conjunction with the league member they were trapped with, they work to defeat their opponents, and one by one transform, each time revealing people too small, too young. The crash of thunder marks each victory. Rubble starts to fall and shake the earth as the league members pull their partners to safety, gathering together by the entrance, bandaging their wounds. All eyes are on Marvel, trapped under a great pillar of stone. (They have been working with him for years now, but each of his family has been revealed to be children. Is he, too?) Each time he raises the ceiling a little higher, and each time it grows heavier as the battles and the ticking clock destabilise the thousands of tons above.

At last, the final group win, and exhausted league members piggy back the last child hero over the rubble.

All are evacuated, but Marvel cannot move. Rapid power transfer and hours of stress have taken their toll, and he needs to transform back as well.

Finally, finally, green lantern and superman reach him, and with their help he is freed, collapsing to the side in relief. No one says a word.

With one final lightning strike, the last member of the team is revealed.

He's twelve years old.

And the league needs to take them all to safety.

#The power sharing mechanics of the shazamily is so interesting to me. And so under utilised.#Detransforming. Revealing yourself and by relation your family as a direct way to save your brother #And I do love incredibly strong characters having to hold the sky to save their friends #You're looking them in the eye and they're saving your life by performing this impossible feat and neither of you are moving #Percabeth do it like no other but we can try #Once read a fic where some league members get trapped under a city in a subway or something during an earthquake and marvel holds the #entire roof + ground + skyscrapers above them up for eight hours until the league can find them without moving a muscle.#And every time I think of cap marvel I think of that. Like. What do you even do after that. Where can you go #dc comics #superman #captain marvel #dc captain marvel #billy batson #shazam #shazamily #mary bromfield #pedro pascal #mary marvel #mary batson #freddy freeman #I'm so sorry I don't know the surnames of Darla and Eugene #Fic idea #story prompt #fic prompt #justice league

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lorifragolina · 2 months

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Pretzel

Steve Harrington runs an animal shelter with his friend and fellow veterinary Robin.

They have a joke between them: they often have to take in poor unfortunate abandoned pets, and they used to name them after the last thing Steve ate. All started years ago, when Robin came in with a rescued parrot and asked Steve how they should name it, who distractedly answered “Montecristo,” pointing at the half sandwich on his desk. Montecristo has been the shelter mascot since then and Robin, after laughing out loud for a good minute, declared the tradition set up.

He finds a carton box this day on the clinic door, and there are Pretzel, Brownie and Caesar (salad), Steve’s lunch he just ate in the cafeteria at the corner. They are so tiny they can easily rest in Steve’s hands, they have to be bottle fed every four hours for some day until they can eat alone, and the red Pretzel is the real incarnation of the very Satan.

This fluffy demon is able to eat the entire prescription book on Robin’s desk, he learned how to open his cage at night and he plots new pranks everyday, bribing his sibling with the delicious treats Steve hides in his drawers.

The kitty is on a shelf, adjusting his bottom to the distance, and then…

“Robin! The demon jumped on my head! Come and catch him!”

Robin runs in the room, laughing out loud. She takes the furious, hissing kitty and returns him in the cage, locking it with the complicated system of chains, sticks and duct tape they invented to keep him in.

“It’s funny, he seems to attack only you,” Robin laughed, checking the scratches on Steve’s neck.

“He hated me. I bottle fed him and he hates me,” whimpers Steve.

“Welcome to parenting,” Robin laughed again, disinfecting him.

A few days later, Pretzel is missing.

“Where is the little demon? The cage is closed!” Rambled Robin, inspected the shelf.

The little demon has been secretly and patiently breaking the bottom of the cage, ripping the wood and the plastic until he can fit in the hole and disappear.

“He can be everywhere! We left the door open when we cleaned before!” Robin was worried and angry with herself, they need to have a thousand eyes with all these little rascals inside…

They turn everything but the cat isn’t there. Steve walked a hundred times the street back and forth, calling him, but without success. He asked their neighboring shops if they saw a little ginger cat that probably would try to kill them if they tried to catch him.

The only one he can’t advise is the mechanic shop three doors down at the other side of the street.

Steve has already seen the blonde, handsome mechanic, most of the time covered in car grease and a stupid sexy overall he leaves open on his chest, but he has neves spoken to him. He just stared at him most of the time, and at this moment the shop seems closed.

Steve and Robin wait and search all day for little Pretzel, but at a certain moment Robin has to clock out and go home, Steve stays for some paperworks.

An instant before, the bells on the door ring and Steve snorts.

“Robin, what did you forget this time?”

“I’m not Robin and maybe I have something you want back”.

Steve raises his eyes and remains mouth wide open for a while.

The blonde, hot mechanic he likes to stare at is here in front of him, only this time he is perfectly cleaned and combed and his hair isn't covered in dark oil. Steve can smell the colony from his desk.

The mechanic opens his jacket and shows a little ball of red fur, sleeping and purring against his chest. Steve has never seen Pretzel sleeping so peacefully and surely he has never heard him purring.

The blonde man raises the cat to his face and rubs his face to the content kitty (when Steve tried to do it, he almost lost an eye), and the kitty seems to really smile at the blonde while mocking Steve with the corner of his eye.

“Hey princess!” Call the mechanic again. “Is he the kitty you were searching for? Mary from the cafe said something”.

Steve blinks and shakes, then nods.

“Yes, of course, he is! Thank you!”

“What’s his name?”

“Well, he is Pretzel…”

“Oh, really? I really, really love pretzels…” answered the mechanic, rubbing the cat more to him. “Is the little Pretzel available for adoption?”

Steve is fascinated by the hot man playing with the kitty, but he has to shake his head.

“Not now, Pretzel has a condition we need to treat. But when he will be ok, we can consider your offer”, he says, raising his hands to take the animal. He has to get near the mechanic, inside his personal space, and blushes and shivers when they touch each other.

“Well, can I contribute to his treatments?” Insists the blonde.

“Well, it’s all covered really…”

“At least can I buy you a drink? I’m Billy, by the way”.

Steve puts Pretzel down in another cage, really hoping he could stay there for at least a night. He turns his back to Billy so he can’t see him blushing furiously.

“Well, okay…” he whispered, shivering a little and excited.

The drink rapidly becomes a sandwich and an ice cream, and a ride on Billy's vintage Camaro.

“Do you like it?” Says Billy. “I can take you for a ride, if you want”.

The next morning, Robin finds Steve already at his desk in the early morning.

“Steve? Are you here so early? You look tired! Did you find Pretzel?”

Steve nodded.

“Steve? Are you wearing the same clothes of yesterday?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Robin!”

The doorbell rings and Robin goes to speak with a man with a carton box. She returned putting the box with a mallard duck on the desk.

“Look what people throw away nowadays… Well, Steve, did you have breakfast?”

Steve blushes and shakes his head slowly, lowering his eyes.

Robin is puzzled. “Well, we have to name that little one, what is the last thing you ate?”

Steve blushed even more, sinking in his chair.

“Billy. Her name is Billy”.

#stranger things #writing #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #veterinary #kitty cat #red cat #mechanic Billy

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presiding · 5 months

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high chaos/low chaos/join the chaos in my dishonored 2 rewrite

#dishonored #dishonored 2 #emily kaldwin #billie lurk #dishonored 2 spoilers #dishonored spoilers #dishonored fanfic #the monster in the hull #yeah yeah yeah the duke was responsible for this but also like. why did emily let someone that incompetent run the show so long #re: the stunt double solution. when i frame it like this it makes emily seem careless #she was and that's the point! but also to me it's #exhibit A for: 'we had a cool game mechanic idea so we forced the story to fit around it'#it is extremely cool to have a body double involved in an assassination (bet they considered twins at some point)#but her solution defs doesnt make emily look good. which again. its a AAA game they dont expect ppl to think bout it #the pain of being a Narrative Enjoyer in a Videogames Need Gimmicks world #so i addressed this even if just a little in the fic. didn't want to derail majorly it's slowburn enough already.#stop! stop! it's already slow burn!! etc etc. haaaaa #yeah it's 100k at this point. added some scenes probably splitting final chapter into 2 #because like arkane i too cannot resist a gimmick *sighs and fist bumps a corporate entity*#pres writes essays in tags

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johnnys-breastmilk · 2 years

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wanted (slowed) | mechanic!billy hargrove x male!reader

a/n — happy stranger things day! here's this, requested by @denim-devil but i couldn't find the request.. sorry babes this is kinda crackfic

warnings — smut 18+!, ass eating, doggy style, degradation

summary — After your car breaks down outside of Hawkins, a certain mechanic stops to help...

words — 2.8k

~~~

"Shit."

The word flew off your tongue to account for every mile you were distanced from Hawkins as you swayed your sputtering vehicle to the shoulder of the asphalt you skidded on, feeling the front wheel of your car dip into the miry soil. You swore at least several times before your car finally halted, sitting on the rounded curve of a back road that you did not know the name of, and a harsh red glow came from your bumper lights as you turned on the hazard signals.

Each hurling drop of rain violently tapped against your car for a brief second, pattering quickly like the thump of your heart and the mile per minute your mind was still racing at, unlike your dormant automobile. The weather channel called for a storm all night, and if it were not for what was sitting in your backseat, you would not be in the middle of a downpour on some back road just a few miles from Hawkins. The word had traveled around that a new video store in the town next to Hawkins sold explicit tapes and magazines. Some neighbors complained about how vulgar it was to see anything like it on display, yet you indulged yourself in the disdainful word of others. They were a rarity, and you were alone, so it was an easy decision to pick them up the second you heard of them. Unfortunately, you lost the race to beat the rain on your way home. Now, they sat scattered in the back seat of your car, easily visible for anyone to peek over and see.

Taking a gander out the window and looking past all the little droplets of rain landing against it, you were greeted with absolutely nothing but vegetation and dampened road. Not a single payphone or bus stop could save you from this trouble, and the nearest mechanic was a long walk away. Billy, you think his name was, lived on a street you couldn't remember the name of and had a reputation for charging more than his services were worth. If there was nothing outside that could help you, then turning to the resources in your car might be the best option. Your hand reached for the overhead light as the other followed along with the dashboard until it slipped into the groove of the glovebox handle, fishing out a car manual in pristine condition.

Unlike many warped pages and manuals yellowed by smoke and age, yours had not even parted from the plastic shrinkwrap clinging to it. It was far from the thing you had hoped to have been reading tonight, but if it provided more help than what was in the pages of the magazines in the seats behind you, then so be it. The first few pages were nothing but categories and the like, with a small section detailing how to diagnose your vehicle's issues catching your eye. You turned to the page numbers noted and scanned through each line, praying for some piece of practical information to help you in any way possible.

To your surprise, a repeated tap came from the other side of your window a few moments later. It was heavier and carried imperfect timing that didn't sound like the rain. You turned to the window, rolling it down once your eyes landed on the shadowy form towering over you with one arm resting on the roof of your car. The rain started to spill through the opening, marking the dry surfaces with an iota of what he was doused in from merely walking from his car to yours. As for the man himself, he looked good in the rain, particularly soaking in it. The solid white tee underneath was made visible by his raised arm taking the flap of his drenched denim jacket with him, leaving the soaked cotton below to cling to his well-worked form, highlighting his buff chest and toned abdomen.

He reeked of smoke, but his teeth weren't yellow as he opened his mouth to talk, a growing smirk as he eyed you. It most likely took shape out of pity, "Hey, you need help?"

You knew the voice instantly, deep and tinged with tobacco in his lungs—Billy Hargrove, the mechanic.

"God, yes." You weren't sure if he could see the desperation in how you flicked through the various volumes and sub-categories of car issues, but he seemed to be the only person for miles. You expected him to mock you like the mechanics in Hawkins for not knowing a muffler pipe from a radiator beam, but the blonde beauty was straightforward with his help, skipping past the opportunity to tease you.

"Pop the hood." You listened to what the soaked man asked of you and reached for the small lever under the wheel, pulling it until you heard the first pop discerning itself from the distant cracks of thunder. He rounded the hood and propped it up with one hand before slamming it back down a few moments later, returning to the same spot he briefly left vacant.

His evaluation had only taken mere moments, leaving you a bit concerned. It could mean one of two things: your car was irreparable, or he knew exactly how to fix it. The best way to get the answer out of him was to ask. "What's wrong with it?"

"The radiator hose is all kinds of fucked up. It caused your entire engine to overheat," he explained, placing two hands over the split in the door your window descended between. The light spilled over his face—softly drenched but reaming with dominance. You couldn't hold a stare to it, breaking away from his gaze cast on you to eye his fingers. There were two rings, both chunky and filling space on the middle and index fingers on his left hand.

"Can you fix it?"

"Yeah, I got a spare one in the trunk. It might be a little big, but I’m sure it’ll fit. It'll cost you, though—just picked it up from the town over." There was a glint in his eyes as he spoke, gone with a wink directed at you; the hidden treasure in the depths of his piercing blues shone through. He tore his gaze away once he went, pacing back to his sleek, low-riding vehicle.

"Great!" You called out the window, but you were sure he didn't hear you. Billy seemed oddly absent from the conversation when in reality, he stopped to help you.

It wasn't a huge deal, though, since this wasn't a handout. You could pay Billy for his work and head home to enjoy the cozy indoors and the magazines in your backseat. Then, a sudden burst of panic consumed you; in your scattered state, you hadn't thought to hide them. Did the mechanic see the pitiful pages you planned to use for self-pleasure? Was that why he seemed gone from the conversation while you made yourself look like a fool?

You turned, checking to see if he was still occupied at his car so that you could stash the dirty magazines away from the divulgence provided by the light overhead, but he passed your open window and paced to the hood before you could lift a finger to move them. You popped it again without the need of his word, and he lifted the front end to replace the hose.

"The town over," those words prompted you to wonder why he made a specific mention of that. You glanced into the muddled mirror hanging off the side of your car, and you noticed that this stranger had come from the same direction as you. Maybe you were overcomplicating a simple remark that had no more depth than the road you slid on, but if he was like you, that road could be a barrier to the tender ground underneath. But, this was a rural area and a ways away from anyone else, so one wrong assumption could lead to more than your car taking a blow.

You shook the hope of this stranger being anything close to you in the ways you wished, figuring that you should get whatever cash you had left ready to fork over to him. Reaching for where you kept your money, dread welled inside you as you realized that you spent most of it on those magazines.

Your thoughts were left to gnaw and work their way open into your worries for the fifteen minutes it took Billy to replace the hose. At a certain point, he was back to standing at your window, his hair clinging even more to his face as he leaned down. You had no money, and your face wore that fact so well that you were sure he picked up on it.

You started to blabber, praying that he would be forgiving, "Is there any other way I could repay you? Maybe I could get you something nice at Starcourt?"

"I think I know how you could repay me," he nods his head to the back seat, "Don't think I didn't see those..."

The same panic from earlier rose, carrying your heart with it as you choked out each word, "Oh, yeah, take them. They're all yours."

Reaching for the magazines, you passed them to him without a second thought, watching the crisp, unturned pages softening in the rain. He thumbed through the pages, and his watered face made different expressions to the contents inside, "You're into all this? Jesus..."

Before you could even try to defend yourself, he was already letting the soaked pages slip from his fingers and to the ground. He dug his black-buckled boot into the mess of damp and muddied paper for effect. You didn't have to see it to hear the grit of the gravel shifting against the underside of his boot. Is that all this asshole wanted; to make you look bad? What could he want from you? The question seemed to answer itself.

"I'll give you something better to look at," he teased. The remnant of his stupid smirk returned, and this time you understood why.

You went for the door handle, both nervous and excited about what the local legend, and antagonizer, Billy, had in mind. You heard the door behind yours click, and when you stepped out into the rain, you saw his figure illuminated by the headlights of his cruiser.

"Get in," he briefed. His ring-barren hand held the door open, and you noticed how it was turning shiny from the splattered raindrops as you crawled into the backseat. Propping yourself on your hands and knees was the best way to give him full access in the awkward confinements of your car.

He had no trouble squeezing himself in, pushing you uncomfortably close to the opposite end of the car while giving himself more room than he needed. You could feel his damp clothes seeping onto yours, his mop-like hair being the worst offender by soaking everything it touched. Yet, his soaked clothes still provided a view of his stunning body, free of charge.

Billy wanted to do more than just look, though. He wanted to feel and let his hands wander. They cupped your ass and moved up to the hem of your pants, coming down with a single tug to reveal something you would never have thought he would take an interest in. There was a window above you that reflected the events taking place thanks to the light you turned on earlier. You could see Billy backing himself up, and you could feel his hands take a fistful of either mound of your ass before he softly tugged them away from each other.

His throat vibrated, and a wad of spit fell from his pursed lips, landing on your hole. One of his thumbs toyed with it for a moment, slicking your crack before he buried his damp face inside and let his warm, wet tongue do most of the work. His breath rolled along your lower back as he felt the intensity of it. He followed a cycle of licking your crevasse with a broad stroke, carefully dancing the tip of his tongue around your hole for an extra tease as he would stop, pull away, spit on it and return. A finger would find its way inside you during the process. It was usually one with a ring on it that stretched and loosened your hole. But he used his mouth for most of the dirty work. Every time his soft lips connected to you in some way, you urged to press back against it, against him.

Eventually, Billy grew rough, and his pace became too quick. It was evident that he needed some kind of relief, so he pulled away to fumble with the flap of his jeans. First, the button came undone, then you heard the slow descending zipper of his fly. You didn't need to glance at the reflection to know what he was packing--you had eyed it earlier in the dark, the thing drawing attention to itself like a lone flare.

A hand ran over your back until one hooked over your shoulder, and the other guided his cock. Billy wasn't entirely going in dry, but the work he had done to prepare you would make the pain a little easier to handle. The tip was the easiest part to take, his girth being the hardest to endure as it felt as thick as the beer cans he used to guzzle down in high school. But once he bottomed out, coasting his entire length inside you, it felt like the first half of a marathon. As he started to rock his hips, the sheer force behind it and eagerness to reach his climax became the apparent problem.

Billy was rough. His toned thighs flexed and worked with each thrust on his knees. Each hip-smacking push into you made it harder for Billy to resist flooding your ass in his release. He grunted and made animalistic noises, far from the composed manner he presented himself in. Loud smacks filled the car and echoed out into the silent backwoods before he finally gave into it and on an unexpected thrust, shot spurts of hot white dickspit in your ass. His thrusts turned languid as he finished inside you. You felt him bear his weight on you, his damp chest finally meeting your dry back. He kept at his thrusts, but they were weaker and driven by less force.

After a few moments of silence and incoherent mumblings, Billy pulled out, tucked himself away, and backed out of your car. "Goddamn, been waiting for a good slut to dump one in. Small towns aren't easy to find people willing to do this."

"You're not going to help me out?" You asked as you felt his presence grow distant.

Billy rode the wave of his ego-filled high, "Fixing your car was helping you. Come back for a full inspection, though, we can talk about it then."

#request #stranger things #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x m!reader #billy hargrove x male!reader #mechanic!billy hargrove #mechanic!billy hargrove x male!reader #mechanic!billy hargrove x male reader #mechanic!billy hargrove x reader #dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery x male!reader #dacre montgomery x male reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut

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mechs-incorrect-quotes · 5 months

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Lyf: It has been 2 weeks since I started living with the Mechanism. I will admit they are not as abrasive when not behind prison bars, but that doesn’t explain spontaneous singing, shooting, singing while shooting

don't forget the shooting, singing and shooting eachother :D /lh /silly

#the mechanisms #the mechs #mechs-incorrect-quotes #lyfrassir edda #silly billy #we love them #imagining Lyff would be so confused #until they just accepted it #(and joined in)#(sometimes)#ty for the quote :D #mechs incorrect quotes asks

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sceirlose · 10 days

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Stupid thing but like imagine Dorcas and Regulus arguing over something and Barty just turns to the camera like:

"oh no, mom and dad are fighting"

Evan then looks at the camera too: "soon we'll know how it feels to be a child of divorced parents.. I'm going with mommy cas"

Pandora: "No, I'm going with mommy cas, you both can stay with Father Regulus"

Barty: "I don't wanna go with Father Regulus, he's abusive" He makes like a fake tear

Regulus hears, glares at them and just be like: "better I pay attention to you than your real dad who doesnt"

All hell then breaks loose

#dorcas meadowes #regulus black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier #slytherin skittles #dinara hcs #theyre so silly billy i dont care that its not accurate #in my head they make jokes abt each others traumas as a coping mechanism #idk abt you but if you dont joke abt ur traumas with ur friends #do you even like ur friends??#dorcas gets barty and evan while regulus gets pandora btw

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fbfh · 2 years

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billy hargrove dating hcs

wc: 1k

pairing: billy x gn reader (a few optional femme hcs, no pronouns)

warnings: billy has ptsd and bpd and is recovering, helping billy through his problems, susan is trying her best, emotionally vulernable billy, max thinks you're the coolest person in the literal world, billy shouldn't drive faster than his guardian angels can fly, I think that's it??

a/n: THIS MAN NEEDS A BIG HUG AND A KISS ON THE FOREHEAD!!!!! also can't get over max being obsessed with billy's cool s/o

tags @yesv01 @hopefullhearts @littlewinter1917 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @Sad-brunnettee @ilikemypolarbear @lubsana @cowboylikekelsey @paris-loves-dustin @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @justbookworm @Sad-brunnettee @ilikemypolarbear @Ronnasey @hxgemxscles @demirunner @cosmiq-cloud

Contrary to popular belief, Billy is an amazing boyfriend

Once you get past the asshole persona

And the rampant partying and hypersexuality to suppress his pain

And the god complex as a defense mechanism

And the deep belief that he’s not good enough for you

All of which you get through very quickly

He’s an incredible boyfriend

It’s so weird for him, because he keeps showing you everything that usually scares people off

Like anyone else would run long before now

And you’re just like “cool are you doing okay emotionally btw”

He is not

He’s never been with the same person for long at all

Like no more than a couple days

Usually because he wants to leave them before they leave him

Because he has bpd

Because he can’t imagine someone seeing him

Or even beginning to get to know him

And not leaving

You’re the first person he’s cried around in

He can’t even remember how long

You touch him so gently

Like so gently it makes him want to cry

You can see everything he’s going through, all the pain, really fucking clearly

And you don’t look at him with anything other than love and acceptance and compassion

He’s never found anyone he feels like he can talk to about all this shit

But you get it

And the weirdest part is you always know just what to say to help him

Even if it’s just “feel whatever you’re feeling right now until it burns out a little” or “I understand, I’m here for you”

You have become such a grounding comforting presence in his life

He can physically feel how much you believe in him

He has no idea what good you can possibly see in him, but he knows you see it

And he wants you to

He wants someone to believe in him, wants to get better

And you do

You believe in him so much

And now when he flirts with you

When he bites your neck and gives you those looks and sticks his hand in your back pocket to hear the flustered little laugh you let out

It’s because he likes seeing you smile

He likes having your attention, making sure you know how he feels about you

He’s not just flirting for the thrill of the kill now, and it’s a completely new feeling

Everything is so refreshing with you

You have this knack for helping him bring out his personality and curb his symptoms, even when there’s overlap

He has no idea how you do it

Or why you stay with him

But he does not want to look this gift horse in the mouth so he’s stopped questioning it

Instead everytime you rub your hand on his back or press a kiss to his forehead he’s just overwhelmed with a terrified gratitude that you’re still here

Everyone else can see the good influence you have on him too

When anyone asks you how you’re doing it, you tell them the truth

“He’s been like this the whole time, he just didn’t feel safe enough to show it.”

Susan is still trying to hold everything together, still trying to get her ducks back in a row

It’s a lot easier with Joyce as her fellow single mom friend

And Hopper there for protection (and moral support)

And knowing she doesn’t have to worry about Billy as much makes it a lot easier

And Max????

Max???????????

Jesus fucking christ, Max LOVES you

At first she thought you were another fling

Then she saw you were sticking around, weren’t intimidated by the facade her brother puts up

Then she sees you having a good influence on him??????

Once she knows you’re sticking around she latches on SO quick

She thinks you are the coolest person to ever walk the planet

She wants to be just like you when she’s older

If you’re not a redhead she even wants to dye her hair to look more like you

If you’re femme at all she thinks of you as a cool older sister figure so fast

You show her (and El too ofc) how to do hair and makeup, talk to them about boys, give them fashion advice

Billy sees you helping her curl the back of her hair once, giving her advice about a fight she had with Lucas

“Just try to be patient and communicate with him. Boys may be boys but they’re still people, you know? If you think about how you feel and know what your goal is going into the conversation I’m sure you can talk it out without fighting.”

She nods, and he can see she’s really taking in your advice

Max figures if that can even work with Billy, it must work on anyone

So now Lucas loves you by proxy too

You and Lucas sometimes bond over dating the Hargrove-Mayfield siblings

“They can turn anything into a competition!”

“I know! It’s kind of adorable, though.”

“Yeah…”

Another thing that means a lot to you

And Max

Is when Billy can feel himself getting pissed off

He has you drive his car

You still blast metallica and kiss, which helps him feel better