wait holy shit scaramouch still thinks jack doesn’t have his sword so he’s gonna bunny hop to aku and tell him and then aku’s gonna look and see the opposite so what i’m saying is beedily beep beep booooooo that’s all babe
The stares between each syllable of every word, subtle touches breezing past your ass or grazing themselves against your thigh, the god-forbidden lip bites that seem to gravitate towards you- not even having hesitant innuendo lay abut in the air that he knew only you would know the hidden intensity of.
(wc: 1.5k. sorta sequel to this. michael teaches jeremy more filipino, listens to music, and has a bad day but it’s okay. sappy fluff. pining. oh god pining. bye.)
Michael doesn’t really have a taste music so much as erratic collection of songs and albums he just so happened to get obsessed with. His phone on shuffle has been described as an experience. There was the one week where only soundtracks of 1st gen and 2nd gen Pokemon blasted from his headphones. For three days he only listened Dreams by Fleetwood Mac over and over again. There was Electroswing Saturday, which lasted for a solid month. Last time he and Jeremy got stoned, Michael cried to the lyrics of MacArthur Park.
(“He left the cake out in the rain, dude,” Michael says, high off his bat and overcome with so many emotions he can’t name a single one. “It took so long to make it, Jeremy.”
“I know, it’s okay,” Jeremy pats his head, giggling. Richard Harris croons in the background on tinny speakers. “Shit happens.”
“It took so long the bake it, Jeremy.”
“And he’ll never get that recipe again!” He says over Jeremy’s cackles.)
Today, he finds himself in music limbo, clicking aimlessly on Spotify like a desert wanderer looking for an oasis of kicking jams. After maybe an twenty minutes of impatiently skipping past every random song that didn’t catch his attention, he finally stops on a song.
Ghost Star AU (starcoweek3 prompt 7) (AU of choice)
The ghost, Star Butterfly, hovered above her friend, looking at the dessert he was eating. “Hey, Marco, do you know what kind of pie that is?”
“I dunno. Blueber-”
“I’m done my dessert.”
Marco went up the stairs, exhausted from his day at school. As he opened the door to his room, Star phased through the ground, popping up in front of him.
“Halt! Who ghost there?”
Marco closed the door.
Star looked at the small box her friend carried in.
“It’s my new shoes. I think they look pretty cool, don’t you think?”
“You know what would’ve looked cooler?”
“Booooooo-ts,” she said in a spooky voice.
“You’re dead to me.”
Star gasped. “MARCO, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!!!”
“Hey, Marco, I’m feeling kind of sad.”
The boy frowned. “Aw, why’s that?”
“I don’t know… buuuut… being around you always lifts my spirits,” Star said as she slowly floated into the air.
“I’m going now.”
“Nooo! Don’t! I’ll be sad again!”
Marco stepped out of the showers, drying himself with the towel. He wiped the mirror to get a better look at himself but found Star standing behind him, staring at him dreamily. He blushed, quickly covering himself with the towel.
“Star! What’re you doing in here!?”
“Sorry, Marco. I can’t help it. Your body is to die for.”
“GET OUTTA TOWN!”
Star giggled, floating out of the bathroom.
Ludo quickly ran away, disappearing into the dimensional portal, leaving the two behind in the aftermath of their battle. Tears began to form in Star’s eyes as she saw her friend bleeding from his wound. It wasn’t fatal, but it certainly wasn’t a pretty sight.
“Marco… Why… why did you do all that? I told you to run…”
Marco panted. “I… I wanted to help you.”
“You got hurt!” she said, her voice breaking up at the sight of his injury.
“Heh… if you think… something like this is… gonna stop me from helping you… you’re dead wrong…” he said with a smile.
Star stared at Marco, surprised at what he just said. She wiped away the tears, her cheeks somewhat blushing. She smiled weakly at her friend. “…Just don’t scare me to death like that…”
Star stood in front of Marco, unable to believe what was happening. She reached out to his outstretched arm, hesitating for a moment before their hands met. A tear fell. She could finally touch him. She could finally be with him. She looked at her friend who was smiling at her, admiring their first physical contact. Her fingers with his, the two holding hands in front of each other.
“…I’m real…” she whispered, trying to comprehend the new reality.
“You’re real…” he repeated.
Star closed the distance, hugging the boy as hard as she could. She felt safe in his arms. “I didn’t think it was possible…”
“Well… I guess… there was a ghost of a chance after all…” Marco whispered.
-Jeremy Heere has been called many things in his life: bird, beanpole, stick insect
-He hates nicknames
-Yeah, he can go with that
-Now he’s finally 11
-He can’t wait to learn all the cool magic tricks you get to learn at Hogwarts
-(He really hopes that part of the curriculum includes pulling rabbits out of hats, even though his dad has told him countless times it’s not)
-He rides the train impatiently, feet tapping and face pressed up against the window
-At some point, a Filipino kid sits down across from him but Jeremy doesn’t pay much attention
-Which is just as well, really, since the kid immediately puts on these huge headphones and blocks the hell out of him
-Do headphones even work here? Jeremy has no idea
-Finally, they reach Hogwarts
-Jeremy sits down for his Sorting
-The Sorting Hat falls down to his nose
-He hears hears some snickers, but that’s okay, because he’s /finally being Sorted!!/
-Then the hat shouts ‘SLYTHERIN!’
-Jeremy has no idea what that means
-It’s the first time since he’s been here that this word has been used
-He smiles and pulls the hat off
-From his left, he can hear cheering
-But from his right, and from everywhere else really, a much louder sound drowns it out
-Jeremy Heere, age 11, can only stare as ¾ of the school boos him
-Then someone pushes him, and he stumbles off to the left
-Some people from neighboring tables are still booing him
-He feels sick
- ‘Michael Mell!’
-Jeremy looks up as the next kid takes the floor
-Huh, it’s that Filipino headphone guy he was sitting with on the train
-Jeremy can’t help but notice what bad condition his robes are in
-They’re a huge lumpy mess of gray and black, like someone started a patchwork quilt but gave up half way
-On the arms of his robes, a bunch of patches are sewed
-Jeremy wonders what they mean
-He also feels a little better about himself
-Michael sits down, and puts the hat on
-Barely a second passes before the hat screams, ‘HUFFLEPUFF!’
-Michael is met with much more cheering than Jeremy was
-Jeremy watches him enviously as he pulls the hat off and swaggers to his table
-But then, just as everyone’s attention is on the next kid being Sorted (some girl named Brooke) he veers left
-He nudges Jeremy aside and sits down at his table
-/At the wrong table/
-He’s wearing braces
- ‘Wow, people here are jerks, huh?’
-Jeremy can only blink at him
- ‘You’re… Uh… Um… At the, er, wrong table…?’
-He kicks himself mentally for all his verbal tics. Michael probably thinks he’s an idiot now
- ‘I can leave if you want me to. I just thought maybe you wanted some backup.’
-Michael nods and leans forward earnestly
-He has nice eyes, even behind the glasses
- ‘I just thought maybe you wanted a friend.’
-Jeremy doesn’t know what to say
-This kid doesn’t even know him, and yet here he is breaking school rules for him and offering to be his friend
-Jeremy can only hope it’s not out of pity
-Michael grins again, and fistbumps him
- ‘Awesome. Starting now, this is level one, and I’m your player two. We’re helping each other all the way to the top, deal?’
-Jeremy is a pureblood
-He has literally no idea what Michael is talking about
-But he agrees anyway
- (Michael sits at his table for the rest of the year)
“Actually, feel free to be a lot less specific. Like just going ‘booooooo’ is literally all that’s required of you. And remember, when you file your report, we’re using the green cover sheets now. Blue was last month.”