#I don't drive so I have to learn the bus

[moonbuckets]

I have a federal work study interview on Monday at the Community College I'm starting school at. I'm 32 and I've never been to college and I'm v nervous.

I know I don't talk a lot on here but I could use a lil encouragement and reassurance if you have any to spare.

[brionysea]

what did i do to deserve a lifelong desire for independence and, simultaneously, equally powerful social anxiety, which turns leaving the house alone into the scariest thing in the world

[jettlawrence]

.

[drdemonprince]

I have finally learned that non-Autistic people only expect a very limited amount of information to be transferred to them at a time. If you try to explain something to them in too much detail or add too much background info, they get overwhelmed in processing it, and they don't know which details are important to parse, and so they get frustrated with you for bombarding them, or they don't listen and miss out on what's important. This isn't them being any less intelligent or caring than anyone else, by the way, it is just a processing difference. And so while it may feel unnatural at first, I have learned that if I want a non-Autistic-seeming person to understand me, I should give them less information and let them color in between the lines. It keeps their mind engaged and keeps them from becoming upset!

I just pick the most OBVIOUSLY important information ("pick me up at the drive thru"), without any of the background or the "why" behind it (the bus broke down and it was raining so i'm under the awning at the drive thru to stay dry) , and I don't worry whether they understand it fully, because they actually do not want all that extraneous information.

hilariously the place where i finally mastered this was on Grindr. I used to explain to people at length my preferences, dysphoria triggers, specifics of where and when we could meet and why my schedule was what it was...and I rapidly figured out that it's much more effective to just tell someone the bare minimum of what you are looking for and where you currently are. and only get into anything deeper if the situation warrants it.

When I talk to an Autistic, conversely, I let the information flow freely because I know it will be helpful to them, and because it's fun to get to be very didactic and precise, too

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read II

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar

You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.

It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.

They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.

You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.

Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.

You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.

They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.

You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.

You don't count but it's definitely a lot.

Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.

You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.

"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."

"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"

You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."

"Are you sure? I can take you."

"No, Mary. My book, please."

"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.

You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.

"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."

You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.

"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.

"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"

"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.

"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"

Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"

Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"

Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"

Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."

Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.

It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.

The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.

Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."

She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.

This is all their fault, Mary knows it.

It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.

"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."

"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"

You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."

[edenesth]

Clumsy Hearts, Steady Love

Pairing: boyfriend!Hongjoong x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: He was a great friend but a terrible lover, and he knew it. For the longest time, he believed he wasn’t cut out for relationships. But then you came along, and for the first time, he wanted to try. He wanted to be better, to be good for you, even if it meant being clumsy along the way. For you, he was willing to learn how to love.

A/N: Only @itstheghostofmypast knows this was initially meant to be a timestamp🤡

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"Don't drive today, darling. I'll pick you up from work this evening."

Those words from Kim Hongjoong echoed in your mind. For the first time in a year of being together, he offered to pick you up. Your heart soared at the unexpected sweetness from him.

It wasn't that you thought he was a bad boyfriend, but you knew his nature from the very beginning. Your friends had warned you when you accepted him; he was a workaholic, someone who would always put anything and everything before you. A good friend but a bad lover—that was his reputation. Yet, you couldn't deny the way he made your heart race, the way his presence made everything better, the way he vowed to love you as you deserved, the way he promised he would try for you.

From the start, you knew what you were getting into. You didn't expect perfection. You didn't want perfection.

You just wanted him.

But loving Hongjoong truly was not easy.

It could be exhausting. Perhaps today was another one of those days.

You had looked forward to this day for so long, hoping he would be the boyfriend he promised to be. But deep down, you knew better than to have such high hopes.

Letting out what felt like the thousandth sigh of the day, you nearly froze to death from being soaked in the rain, your ankle throbbed from a sprained heel as you stood by the bus stop outside your office building where he was supposed to pick you up.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

Every call went straight to voicemail, escalating your worry to panic. You didn’t dare move, fearing he might arrive at an empty bus stop.

After hours of agony, trying to reach him, and calling all his friends, you got the same useless response: he was unreachable, and they had no idea where he could be.

Three hours.

You sat there for three hours, sick with worry about him, when you were the one who needed care, only to end up taking the bus home. So much for the excitement and anticipation of him picking you up for the first time. You should have been furious, but the pounding headache and rising fever stole that from you. Another heavy sigh escaped your lips, the disappointment of what should have been an exciting Friday evening turning into an utter disaster.

"Enough, my darling. I'm here now, am I not?" said Kim Hongjoong.

The audacity.

You had left work to be greeted by a heavy downpour, cursing yourself for not bringing an umbrella. As if things couldn't get worse, your sprint to the bus stop where he promised to pick you up was interrupted when your heel chose that moment to snap. You yelped in pain, stumbling forward onto the wet ground, your belongings scattering everywhere. Crawling on the rough pavement to collect them, you finally stood up, only to feel a sharp throb in your ankle.

But it was supposed to be okay because seeing Hongjoong was sure to make everything better.

Ha, bitch you thought.

He left you panicking like a mad woman for hours, only to show up in the most infuriating way. When the 8pm bus finally rolled to a stop before you and the automated doors swooshed opened, you were busy dialling his number yet again.

"Come on, pick up pick up pick up—"

Wait a minute, is that...?

You did a double take when the very person you had been desperately trying to reach this whole time stepped off the bus with a sheepish smile, only for his expression to fall when he saw the miserable state you were in.

"Please throw your phone away if you have no intention of using it," you said flatly, walking past him and intentionally bumping his shoulder as you boarded the bus, no longer caring if he followed.

Of course, he did.

He cursed under his breath, noticing your limp, the heels in your hand, and your soaked, shivering form.

Settling into the last row of seats beside you, he quickly took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. You were too weak to fight back or refuse. His heart ached as he pulled you close, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. Silently, you accepted it all. Not only were you too exhausted to reject his gestures, but you also felt you deserved this and more after what you had endured. When you were warm enough, he immediately checked on your now swollen and bruised ankle, careful not to hurt you. The concern in his eyes was enough to melt your heart, but he didn't need to know that.

Once he was done fussing over you, he leaned back in his seat, offering his shoulder. Stubbornly, you turned away and leaned your head against the window instead. Knowing you needed time to calm down, he kept quiet and let you be, but not without staying close. He needed you to know he was there for you.

When you sighed again, he could no longer take it. He felt the need to explain himself.

"I know you're mad, and you have every right to be," he began, his voice soft and sincere. "I messed up, and I'm so sorry. I got caught up in something I couldn't get out of, and I swear I was going to call you, but my phone died and the stupid car broke down. God, I'm such an idiot. I should have tried harder to reach you or get to you sooner."

Still, you said nothing, your silence more punishing than any words you could have spoken. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly at a loss.

"I love you," he whispered, almost to himself. "I just want to make things right."

For a moment, you softened, but the memory of the cold rain and the throbbing pain in your ankle kept your resolve firm. He had to understand the gravity of his actions.

Finally, you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can't just show up and expect everything to be okay, Joong. You scared me. I thought something terrible had happened to you. And all the while, I was the one who was hurt and alone."

"I know," he said, his voice cracking. "And I'm so, so sorry, my darling. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you."

You turned to face him, meeting his eyes for the first time since he got on the bus. The sincerity and regret in his gaze were undeniable.

"One chance, Kim Hongjoong," you said firmly. "Don't mess it up."

He nodded, relief washing over his face. "I won't. I promise."

With that, you leaned back against the window, still not ready to forgive, but willing to see if he could truly make amends. And for the rest of the ride, he stayed close, his presence a silent vow that he would try his best to make things right.

As you slowly drifted to sleep, he guided your head to his shoulder, gently pressing his cheek against your forehead. Feeling your breath steady and the tension ease from your body, he allowed himself a small, relieved smile. He reached for your cold hands, stroking his fingers against your skin to warm you, finding it funny how he used to judge couples in public, but now that he had you, he realised he couldn't blame them—you were all that mattered.

The truth was, he had been late leaving work today, and to make matters worse, his car had broken down in the middle of heavy traffic. When he tried to call you, his phone had died. In desperation, he had caught the quickest bus he could find, but traffic had been relentless. He could have told you all of this, but he didn’t want to make excuses. He knew he should have done better.

Hongjoong glanced down at you, his heart aching with tenderness and guilt. He was still clumsy when it came to love, but for you, he would learn to be a better lover. Stroking your hair gently, he whispered, "I’m so sorry. I won't make you wait again. I promise to do better. I promise to always be there for you."

The bus ride continued in peaceful silence, the hum of the engine and the occasional jostle of the road the only sounds. He held you close, vowing silently to never let you down again. As the bus neared your stop, he adjusted his position, cupping your cheek softly and kissing your head, whispering, "We're here, darling."

You let out a small groan as your eyes fluttered open, unconsciously snuggling closer to his warmth and comfort as you tried to register your surroundings. If only you knew what your little actions did to his poor heart. Tightening his grip around you, he helped you up from your seat and carefully guided you out of the bus, ensuring you didn't put pressure on your injured ankle. The driver gave you a sympathetic nod as the two of you stepped off. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the night was calm.

As you walked the short distance to your shared apartment, you suddenly remembered what had happened and peeled his hands off you. You weren't necessarily cold to him but you still needed space to cool off. He gulped, his fear of losing you was apparent. "Please, you're hurt. Let me take care of you."

To be fair, he knew he deserved your reaction. You weren't upset merely because of what happened today; he believed this was you letting out all the frustration you had kept in for the entirety of your one-year relationship. And he knew now that if he wanted to keep you by his side, this was his sign to take things more seriously.

No more excuses.

You had been nothing but the best and most attentive girlfriend to him. So, what was stopping him from doing the same for you?

He knew you didn't want to be near him right now, but he also didn't have the heart to stay away. Offering his hand, he nodded toward it. "Come, let's go home."

Tired out of your mind, you swallowed your anger, deciding to save it for another time. For now, you needed him. You reached out with a pout, surprising him by holding onto his pointer finger. "Fine, let's go."

He chuckled, his heart bursting with affection at how cute you were. This was better than nothing. Walking slowly, he made sure you weren't hurting yourself, each step a reminder of his promise to himself and you.

As you entered your apartment, he helped you settle onto the couch, your injured ankle elevated and cushioned. He fetched a blanket and wrapped it around you, his eyes filled with concern. "I'll make us some tea," he said softly, heading to the kitchen.

While he prepared the tea, you watched him move with a newfound determination. You could see he was trying, truly trying, to be better for you. And that thought, more than anything, began to melt the icy wall you had momentarily built up in your heart.

He returned with two steaming mugs, setting them on the table before sitting beside you. He took your hand gently, his thumb rubbing circles on your skin. "I know I have a lot to make up for," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I will. You mean everything to me."

You looked into his eyes, seeing the honesty and love there. It was a start, and as you sipped your tea together, you felt a glimmer of hope that things could truly change.

Just as you finished your tea, you sighed and looked up at him, intending to get up and head to your room. But before you could move, he gently squeezed your hand and stood up. "Let me help you," he insisted, his voice gentle yet firm.

You hesitated, feeling torn between wanting to assert your independence and appreciating his newfound care. "I can manage," you insisted weakly.

"I know you can, darling," he replied softly, crouching beside you. "But let me take care of you this time, please."

His sincerity was palpable, and despite your initial resistance, you found yourself nodding. He carefully helped you to your feet, supporting your weight as you limped towards your room. Once inside, he waited patiently as you freshened up and changed into dry clothes, his presence a reassuring warmth in the quiet of the room.

As you emerged, feeling somewhat more composed, you glanced at him gratefully. "Thank you, Joong," you murmured, genuinely touched by his unexpected tenderness.

He smiled softly, his eyes reflecting relief and determination. "It's only my job as your boyfriend," he replied earnestly.

Returning to the living room, you settled back onto the couch together. The warmth of his tea and his presence beside you enveloped you in a sense of security and hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, things could indeed change for the better between you.

You couldn't deny his affections any longer, his pleading look was enough to melt you into his embrace. As he gently pulled the throw blanket snugly around you, drawing you closer, your heart fluttered. His actions conveyed a heartfelt apology, reminding you why you could never leave this man, no matter how tiring things became. At the end of the day, you both belonged to each other, despite his occasional clumsiness; your love remained steadfast.

Nuzzling against his neck, you breathed in his familiar scent. "How's the car? Have you contacted insurance?" you murmured, slipping effortlessly into the role of the attentive girlfriend he knew so well.

With a tender smile, he shook his head. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Take care of everything. Take care of you."

His words made your heart skip a beat, and you tightened your grip on his sweater. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Kim Hongjoong," you teased gently.

He reassured you with a squeeze of your shoulder. "I won't, my darling. Not anymore."

Looking up at your boyfriend, you could see the honesty in his eyes. You knew perfection wasn't guaranteed from this point onward, but you at least trusted that he would always give his best effort.

And that was what mattered most.

"If you say so," you whispered, your eyes closing as he leaned in to press his lips against yours. Hongjoong understood your doubts, but this was where he would begin to earn your trust.

From now on, he would do everything to be the lover you deserved. He would learn from his mistakes and grow, all for the sake of the person he loved most in the world.

I swear, this came out of nowhere lmfao. I was supposed to be working on Jongho's TWTHH spinoff but this happened. Tbf, this has been swirling in my mind for the past week at work because something similar happened to me. I was soaked in the rain and my heel did snap. The 3-hour wait was also a past experience of mine, except that douchebag was no Kim Hongjoong HAHA

Thank you for reading and I hope you lovelies enjoyed this random little oneshot. As always, let me know your thoughts! <3

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[ms-demeanor]

Hi. I've followed you for a while and your advice to others always seems pretty good. You seem very knowledge about therapy and driving. This may be a bit out of your depth, feel free to delete this ask if so, but if you have any advice I would greatly appreciate hearing it. I've got a problem: the field I'm studying for and love doing will require frequent trips to places I cannot walk/bike/bus/fly to, and I'm terrified of driving. My father decided the best way to start teaching me was to put me behind the wheel on a small road in a big city with pedestrians and bikes on the road, and tell me to drive. It's been 4 years and I can't even think about getting behind the driver's seat without bursting into tears. Riding in the front passenger seat is fine. I want to get over this fear and finally learn to drive, with paid therapy if necessary, but I don't know what terms to search for to find a therapist that can help me with this. Any ideas?

So I think pretty much any decent therapist will be able to help you with this fear, just like any decent therapist will be able to help you figure out how to approach any fear that you've got.

But I'm also not sure this is something you need a therapist for so much as some very good friends and a lot of time. If you don't have your learner's permit I'd recommend getting one, and from there I think I'd say to ask some good friends, who you know are good drivers, to help teach you the rudiments of driving.

I think that you should do this by starting on a closed private property where there aren't people or pedestrians or anything else, and just put the key in the car, put the car in drive, and drive up and down a driveway until you are capable of doing so without panicking. From there, have your safe trusted driver friend take you someplace with no traffic of any kind but that does have some kind of lane markings (school parking lots on weekends, shopping center parking lots late at night, etc) and begin practicing things like stopping, turning, and acceleration. Do that until you're comfortable driving around empty parking lots, at which point I'd say that you should look at enrolling in a driving school with a closed course.

You were put in a very stressful situation that frightened you a lot, but there are ways that you can build up that should help you to see that it doesn't have to be stressful like that. Sit in the driver's seat of a parked car. Turn the car on without putting it into gear. Drive it back and forth just to get used to the car being in motion at very slow speeds.

If you want to work on this with a therapist you're probably going to want to be looking for someone who specifically discusses dealing with phobias around driving or accident-related trauma and recovery; cars can be terrifying and there are a ton of people who have had bad times with cars so there are lots of professionals who have dealt with getting people comfortable around cars as a necessity of our car-centric culture. That's the kind of stuff I'd be looking for, is people who talk about vehicle-related or accident-related trauma.

But also I think that's just a good thing to say out front if you're shopping for a therapist. "I am scared of driving and want to learn to drive, that is my primary current interest in therapy and I'm looking for a professional to support me while I work through this." Say this out loud as you call offices, and DO make calls, don't just look for reviews. People may not advertise this kind of thing specifically because it may just be taken for granted that it's something that their office can help equip you for.

Though, again, I think that you can likely do a lot of that yourself with the help of a good friend or a patient family member who is willing to respect your boundaries and work within them, but you need to think about what your boundaries are and what your goals are before you get to work.

[fatehbaz]

In just eight blocks of sidewalk in quiet neighborhood, walking through the not-quite-rain of a sunshower, today I encountered four missing shoe soles. Little pieces of plastic and rubber, detached from pedestrians' shoes, now lonely on the concrete, with the weeds.

No such thing, really, as a "weed", though. "Weed" is not a botanical term. Instead, describes perceived pests, at the discretion of the observer. At the discretion of the authority. Designated as weed by the one with power over that land. The agronomist, the rancher, the plantation manager. The weed wastes space that could otherwise be given to a monoculture cash crop, an "economically significant" plant. The weed interferes with the productivity of the plot of land. The weed interrupts the extraction. The weed diminishes the value. The weed doesn't belong in this place.

People are made to be weeds, too.

Some cities will designate you as a weed, and then they'll take action to pull you out. They'll uproot you. But it's not always explicit, like "we're outlawing loitering" or "we're outlawing taking a nap in the park" or "we're defunding the library". Sometimes it's quite clever, it's written into the physical landscape. Self-congratulatory "progressive" cities learn to co-opt language, to obscure the violence, to use and abuse space.

Thinking about things you might encounter, you might perceive, after you've been destitute, broken, lived at a homeless shelter, for years. Little signs of other peoples' misery. Indicators of desperation that some might overlook. And the way that environment shapes, and is shaped by, these miseries.

A friend asks "why is there always an unusual amount of scuffed detached missing shoe soles on this particular stretch of sidewalk? There are hardly any homes around here, it's all asphalt and empty lots, so where are all these be-shoed people coming from?" Because even though this is a wide expanse without either home residences or any kind of commercial or recreation space someone would want to visit, these blocks are the straight-line direct path between a low-income apartment complex and the cluster of corporate big box stores, and there's no bus line that runs between the two areas. "But don't the vast majority of customers of shopping malls and box stores drive vehicles, hence the obscenely massive parking lots?" Sure, customers drive, but guess who actually has to work at those places? An underclass of people living at that apartment complex with harsh restrictions and cheap amenities, who can't afford car insurance or who might be too physically disabled to bike. And so that apartment complex is a de facto "company town", the residents are essentially in confinement. It is written into that landscape. It can be read. "Why is there always debris, wrappers, coins, etc. in this particular quiet couple of blocks of the boulevard?" Because these blocks are between a thrift store and a same-day drop-in clinic, so many impoverished people will routinely be walking between these two locations. They attend their appointment, and then have forty-five minutes to kill before the bus comes back around, so why not check out the thrift store? The city and county collaborated and placed all the low-income assistance offices on the far side of town, which conveniently forces the poor and disabled to both stay away from the luxurious downtown district and also to waste their time making a four-hour commute, catching various connecting buses or else riding the bikepath, across the city just to attend a ten-minute-long appointment.

Then this spatial layout, this city's physical environment, will shape the physical body. This violence writes itself into the flesh. The way the denim is chafed and discolored on the left shoulder of someone's jacket from carrying a small backpack around by foot, day after day after day. The way someone's heart rate increases when they see a white and black vehicle in the periphery of their vision, subconsciously recollecting institutionalization and institutional abuse, or fearing what a ticket fee would mean for their budget (they might not be able to afford rent). The way someone develops a painful limp, maybe occasionally depends on a cane, because they had to walk great distances every day to get to work and their shoe sole fell off on the sidewalk, but they can't replace the shoes because their employer is underpaying them, and they're forced to stand all day at work anyway, and they already had some modest nerve damage in their foot because they've been rationing their insulin and can't afford their prescriptions, and federal medical insurance keeps denying them because their physical letters in the mail always show up too late or not at all, and groceries are too expensive so it's hard to get good nutrition to heal, but the diabetic nerve damage has by now damaged their digestive tract too so they have a strictly limited bland diet and can't enjoy the simple pleasure of a home-cooked meal (if they can even afford a home, at this point), and all those "little" miseries add up, and now they're hungry, and in pain, because they were forced to walk kinda funny for a long time over all those decaying sidewalks with all those other weeds.

[luxaofhesperides]

puddle

Your writing is amazing btw

Danny is usually fine with the cold. He's got an ice core, he's practically made for the cold. But Gotham autumn cold is another monster, especially when it comes with so much rain.

The city is constantly damp and dreary, switching between sprinkling on and off to a heavy deluge of rain.

Listen, he can handle the cold but not the cold and wet. That's just asking for too much.

He says as much to Duke over the phone, peering out from under the awning of the theater he's trapped at, hoping the rain will let up soon. It hadn't been raining when he left the apartment earlier to watch a movie, killing time until Jazz got back from her internship with Gotham's social services, so Danny had been caught totally unprepared when he stepped outside and got hit with a spray of rain as a bus drove past.

Duke laughs at him, his voice carrying a little static over the phone, and Danny pouts. No point in hiding it when no one's around to see it.

"How have you not learned to always carry an umbrella with you by now?" Duke asks, amusement coloring his voice. "Hasn't it already been a year since you moved here?"

Danny pouts and stares out into the heavy sheets of rain coming down just a few feet in front of him. "I was running late to the showing so I didn't check the weather! And it was almost nice out earlier so I thought it would be fine."

"Alright, new question: how have you not learned to stop trusting Gotham's weather? If it's good, then it'll get worse. If it's bad, it'll stay bad. That's how it is."

"This city is out to get me," Danny complains. "If I get sick because of this rain, just leave me to die."

"You're so dramatic," Duke says fondly.

"You would be too, if you were stuck out here." He takes a step to stand just beneath the edge of the awning and peers up at the sky. Heavy gray clouds hang above the city, hiding the sky from horizon to horizon. The wind isn't strong today, which means the clouds are barely moving. No doubt the lower streets have already begun to flood, water rising as storm drains struggle to keep up with the heavy rain. He sighs and reaches back to draw his hood up to cover his head. "I think I'm just gonna have to make a run for it."

Noise erupts from Duke's end of the call; rustling, doors slamming, metal moving. "Wait, stay where you are! You're at Harbor Theater, right?"

"Yeah."

"Give me like ten minutes. Don't move!" And then the call ends without another word, leaving Danny to blink out at the rain, confused. He pulls his phone away from his ear, stares down at the screen where "Call ended" stares back up at him, and shrugs.

Sure. Okay. This might as well happen.

He retreats back to the door, more protected from the rain, and leans against the brick wall of the building to wait. It's only ten minutes, and he's not in a rush to do anything else today, so he can wait. As long as he stays mostly dry, he'll be fine.

Despite his many complaints about the rain, Danny does enjoy Gotham storms. They're quiet and steady, with only the really big storms carrying thunder into the city. The storms in Amity Park were always loud, with howling winds and earthshaking thunder, lightning flashing nonstop until it was over. Compared to that, Gotham rain is peaceful; the steady patter of raindrops against windows is soothing and has made him fall asleep more than once. As long as he's safe and warm inside, he likes the rain.

As it is, when he's outside and stuck hiding beneath an awning, he very much does not like the rain.

The street is mostly empty as everyone with common sense is inside where it's dry. A few cars pass by, driving fast despite how hard it must be to see, and send water splashing towards him. He's just outside the splash zone, thankfully, but that doesn't stop him from glaring and muttering curses to those drivers.

Danny sighs again and closes his eyes, hoping to make the time pass by faster if he makes his mind drift.

It doesn't feel like it's been ten minutes when he hears Duke call his name. It barely even feels like five. Danny opens his eyes and pushes off the wall, looking down the street where he can see a bright yellow umbrella moving up and down as Duke runs through the rain to meet him. Did he really run all this way, just to get Danny an umbrella? That's really sweet. Danny bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning too much like some kind of lovesick fool.

Which he is, to be fair, but he doesn't need to show that.

"Dude," he says when Duke reaches him, stumbling to a stop under the awning to catch his breath. "Did you seriously run from your place to here? Don't you live on the other side of Gotham?"

Duke shakes his head and takes a moment to catch his breath. "I was nearby," he says, gesturing vaguely behind him, "Don't worry about it. You heading back home?"

"That was the plan, yeah."

"I'll walk you then. C'mon."

Duke offers his elbow as though escorting Danny to the ball. Danny takes it, stepping beneath the umbrella, so cheerfully yellow it almost feels aggressive. "My hero," he teases. "My knight under yellow umbrella."

"Listen, it was the only one I had that wasn't broken and it was a joke gift from a friend."

"A joke gift?"

"It's a Signal umbrella. Look at the handle."

Danny looks. The curve of the handle ends in a bat symbol. "That's amazing," he says, biting back a laugh as they step out into the rain. The umbrella protects them, but he can see that both their shoulders are getting wet; it's hard to fit two bodies beneath one umbrella. He pulls at Duke's arm, tugging him closer, so they can both fit more securely under the umbrella, walking arm in arm down the street.

It would have been nearly perfect if it wasn't for the fact that the streets were full of rainwater and a step into a puddle too big to avoid leaves his shoes and socks wet.

"Aw, man," he groans, frowning at his shoes. "I just can't win today."

"You used up all your good luck calling me," Duke jokes.

"Worth it, if it gets me you," Danny says without thinking. Then he squeezes his eyes shut and regrets because flirting with Duke has become a habit when they became friends, and it's a dangerous habit know that Danny's figured out his massive crush on Duke.

"Sweet talker," Duke retaliates. He's unfazed, carrying on normally, so Danny relaxes. As long as he can keep his crush quiet alongside his many other secrets, he's fine.

Leaning into him a little more, Danny ducks his head to hide a smile as they keep walking. Under one umbrella, together under the sheets of rain, it feels like there's no one else in the world but them.

Maybe there is something to enjoy about rainy autumn days.

Even if it ends with him walking home in waterlogged socks.

[mymegrokosmos]

cheol bf brainrot that no one asked for bc smth a friend sent me sparked a thought tonight so thank k👑 for this one.

I am so sane and normal about this, yup.

seungcheol insists on carrying everything for you. From your purse to your amazon order and even the groceries. Why would you need to handle silly tasks like struggling up to your apartment with big boxes when he's there to do the heavy lifting for you?

On top of being his passenger princess one of the things you took a while to come to a compromise with in your relationship was being taken care of. Letting him do things for you without feeling like you're taking advantage. He insists he does these things for you because he likes to, that it makes him feel better to know you're eating good meals and that he likes when you take over the aux from the passenger seat or talk him through your day while he drives home after work with you on speaker phone.

At first it made you uncomfortable being so pampered all the time. You quickly came to learn the seungcheol's love language is acts of service. Doing these things for you like ordering you dinner when he can't be there to take you out, or picking you up after a night out with your friends when you lose track of time and miss the last bus. So when you eventually start taking joint trips to the grocery store, it's no surprise that you don't get to lift a single finger.

Pushing the cart? He's got it. Reaching the things on shelves too high for you? He's already asking how many you need. Getting your dairy products from the cold freezer section? You stand watch over the cart and stay warm while he picks out the exact brands and flavours he knows are your favourites. And, of course, he insists on carrying the bags back out to the car. You can take a couple of the lightest ones but only because you sulked about it. He insists that he needs you to have one hand free for the keys so you can pop the trunk for him but you both know that's just an excuse to save your pride.

He pouted when you even brought up the possibility of helping so here you are, watching him load the bags while you wonder what good deed you did in your past life to have earned a partner so full of care and genuine love for everyone in his life. It's also just a little bit unfair how handsome he looks in track pants, a plain t-shirt, oversized hoodie and baseball cap perched backwards on his head. He pauses to lift it when he finishes, running a hand through the dark mop of hair that just seems to keep getting longer every time you blink.

"Hey, honey?"

He comes over to see what you need. "Yes jagi?"

The crease in his brows only serves to endear you further. You don't answer right away, too distracted by your fond musings, and it deepens. He taps your cheek gently. You snap out of your thoughts. He looks concerned.

"Everything okay baby?"

You nod. One hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing over one half of the set of dimples that just make you want to eat him. He leans into your touch, smiling softly, but doesn't take his eyes from yours.

"You sure?"

You smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

Instead of explaining you just lean up, pressing a kiss to the cheek not currently nuzzling against your palm. He kisses your hand.

"Thank you Cheollie."

"For what?"

"For always being such a gentleman."

He blinks. You know it's just second nature to him. He doesn't think twice about the way he does these things. That doesn't make them any less meaningful or appreciated.

You take advantage of his confusion to plant a kiss on him. He just stares at you when you pull back. Your hand slides down to rest on his chest and that seems to snap him back into action. He pulls you in, one hand on your waist, and blinks at you.

"Baby?"

"Yes Cheol?"

"Do that again." You quirk a brow at him. "Please."

His smile when you pull away, much more slowly and reluctantly this time, is worth it. He isn't even looking when he tugs you a few steps back with him, out of the way of the small car pulling out of the parking spot beside you. When you blink up at him he's still grinning. He holds out a hand for the keys, not letting you go as he gets the passenger door and helps you in.

"Let's go home."

"Mhm."

The smile on his face didn't falter the whole way home. Neither did the hand on your thigh, fingers laced with yours even as he pulled into the parking garage under your building.

Needless to say, you now reward him with kisses all the time. It's the one response to spoiling you that he can't complain about.

[kaytheday]

Things that were a Culture Shock for Dallas Winston from New York to Tulsa

Being able to see the stars for the first time. He is so surprised about how full the sky is, not that he would ever tell anybody that.

No public transportation (there is no way baby Dally ever learned how to drive and no way that he has a drivers lisence now) Buck probably taught him to drive.

He probably misses the subway and hates the bus system that Tulsa operates under (which is why he’s stealing Bucks car all the time).

Lowkey the rats. He is probably overestimating quite how much vermin there is.

The first time Darry caught him stuffing a towel in the sink drain at like 10:00 pm before they go to a drag race he was very confused.

"Why are you doing that Dal?"

"I’m planning on sleeping here tonight and if you don't keep these things plugged up when you go to bed you're gonna have a full rat invasion on your hands. They can get through pipes smaller than these you know Darrel.”

"Ratvasion up in here!"

"Shut up Two-Bit!"

Streets with nobody on them and less crowded spaces in general. Dallas is constantly asking where all the people are. Everyone else just keeps telling him that this is a normal amount of people?

Another thing that I think about is how Dallas was probably on high alert right after he moved. He was constantly used to the noise and the fighting and he was pretty paranoid about people following him and things like that because of the crime he was involved with in the city.

He was jumpy and always ready for a fight. He also thought that most of the neighborhoods in Tulsa were run by gangs. They are not (if anything they are loosely run)

The prices of things? In New York things are just more expensive. This is why he is always treating Johnny and Ponyboy because he sees that paying for three people in Tulsa is as much as paying for himself in New York.

Also the first time he got paid for barrel racing by Buck he thought he was getting gypped because it didn't seem like a lot compared to what he was getting in New York. He literally almost punched Buck's teeth out on the spot.

The accent. He would always get annoyed with how slow people talked.

"Come on! Spit it out and get to the point! I don't got all day!" He's done this on many occasions to store cashiers, people at the bar, and so many others. He gets so sick of waiting for them to say their bit.

Also the southern manners piss him off as well. He hates responding to ‘how are you?’ Or the stupid ‘have a nice day’. He’s complained more than once on the unnecessary small talk and manners.

This could also be why he comes off as rude and cold to Ponyboy especially and many others. He is blunt and says what’s on his mind and he hates small talk and unnecessary interactions. (as most New Yorkers do!) He will almost always cut an interaction short doing anything he can to get out of it. This is often what differentiates him from other southern hoods.

New Yorkers talk fast and they use a lot of complicated slang that the rest of the United States doesn't use. A lot of people get confused when he's talking to them and we know how Dallas is easily frustrated.

"I've been schleppin' your stuff around all day Buck, it's brick out 'ere and I come home to this Schlock? I gotta go lie down!" (love you and your New Yorker accent Dallas 🥰)

Let me know if you guys have any more. I love this concept.

This is inspired by some tags left on a post by @damthosefandoms

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Three / Chapter Four / Chapter Five

[CHAPTER FOUR]

I step off the bus shivering, holding myself for some kind of warmth. "Hooooly shit..." I huff, my breath swirling in front of me before dissipating into the air. Behind me is Samantha Giddings, stepping off the bus in a much warmer state.

"I have an extra jacket, Jordan," she offers.

"H-How far is the lodge?" I chatter. Sam laughs and places her back pack on the ground as the bus drives off.

"Far enough," she says, pulling out a dark grey zip up. It was thin, but it was better than nothing. "I can't believe you forgot your coat."

"Somebody at the station stole it when I went to the bathroom," I mumble, letting go of my own bag. "I think I have a hoodie, though, too." I unzip my own back for my thick, light pink hoodie. I pull it on over my head before sliding the jacket on over it.

"Feel better?" Sam smiles. Her hands are on her hips as she waits for me. She looks like an impatient mother.

"Much. Thank you," I sigh. We officially begin our long climb to the lodge.

"Chris didn't take you with him?"

"No, Josh wanted him to come early to help get things set up, so I just rode the bus."

"I see." A silence falls between Sam and I. I really like Sam for what I know about her, but neither of us considered the other a friend, so there was an air of awkwardness as we walked. "So, you and Chris," Sam starts. "You're cousins, right?"

"Yes ma'am," I nod.

"So, you know each other really well, or what?" I shoot Sam a look of confusion.

"Uhm, yeah, he's my best friend. Why?" A smile creeps onto my face. "Should I hook you up, or...?"

"No! No, haha, Jordan," Sam's complexion was already rosy from the biting cold, but I swear I could nearly see the steam from the snow rising from her face. "I'm just trying to make conversation. Shit, you remind me of my mother. She's been trying to get us together for... whatever reason." I laugh and nearly fall over a lifted branch. The mountain was feeling steeper as we continued on.

"Chris is a really good guy. He used to be kind of douchey when we were younger, but he's really grown into himself. He definitely pulls his annoying pranks, still, but it's highly preferable to the old things he and Josh used to get up to." Sam nods. She's much more athletic than I am so she's a bit further ahead of me now.

"Speaking of Josh, what's your guys' deal?" She stops to let me catch up.

"Our deal? What do you mean?"

"I mean I can't tell if you hate each other or have never wanted to be with another person so much in your life." This time, I do fall over, slipping on some ice and falling face first into a hill of soft snow. It's deep enough that I sink in, the white powder covering my ears enough for Sam's laughter to be muffled. She helps me up, snorting once, which makes me laugh a little, too.

"Uhm, well," I start, my mouth suddenly dry. "He was my bully, growing up." Sam tilts her head before beginning to brush the snow off me. "Made me cry a lot. The hating each other is much closer than... the other thing you said." She hums in response.

"I don't know, there's always been this way he looks at you," she says, just above a whisper. We continue to walk, the cable car building now in view. It doesn't take long before she's starting to pull ahead of me again. "I can't put a finger on it, myself, but it's just... different." I can't help but notice Sam's expression, one of confusion and... frustration? I narrow my eyes at the back of her head.

"Probably just your average disdain, or whatever."

"Nothing average about that guy," she retorts. "I don't know."

"He made my grade and middle school life a living hell. Would've been high school, too, if I didn't choose to go to a different one just to avoid him." Sam turns to look at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Oh, so he bullied you," she says, biting her lip. "Like, really?"

"His first prank on me was putting rats in my locker," I laugh. It's not funny, being scared by fat rats in your locker - but in hindsight, I can't help but laugh.

"Where'd he get the rats from?" Sam asks, smiling as if she wasn't sure if she was allowed to find amusement in my story.

"Biology class," I answer. "Though I'm not sure how he actually snuck them out of there under the teacher's nose."

"Impressive, honestly." Sam sighs. We finally make it through a gate and to the cable cars, where Chris waited with the key. 

"Hello, ladies," He greets, bowing dramatically. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" I bow back, but Sam does not.

"The cable cars, Chris," she says. She's smiling yet she seems unamused. He sighs, continuing the dramatics, and puts the back of his hand on his forehead. 

"Ah, another wench, ignoring me, yet pleased to exploit my services... This world is dark as ever." He turns, swinging his arms, and goes to the door to open it for Sam and I. Sam rolls her eyes and follows Chris.

"Why did Josh have you come back down here just to let us in?" I ask, taking my seat in the car next to Chris. I was thankful we didn't have to wait for its arrival. 

"The Washingtons keep everything locked up to avoid squatters," Chris explains. "You guys are the last up, so, I'm riding back with you." 

"Oh, man, we're last?"

"By an hour or so, yeah." The rest of the ride is silent, the three of us looking out the window at the view. After a while, we eventually make it to the top of the mountain.

"Goddamn it I'm so cold," I huff out as the doors to the car open. "Let's hurry up and get inside, PLEASE!" Chris and Sam laugh at my urgency, trailing behind me as I start into a jog, passing an old picnic table. The lodge slowly comes into view as I continue down the trail, and I smile. I see somebody, and I move a bit faster to catch up. 

I can't help but frown when I see who it is.

"Hi, Josh." I greet. Josh turns around, a smile on his expression. When he notices it's me, though, it disappears.

"Hi, Jordan, glad you could make it," he says through gritted teeth. I hear Chris sigh when he spots Josh and I interracting.

"You guys are so confusing," he says, slapping Josh on the back before draping his arm over his shoulders. He turns to Sam. "One minute, this guy sits next to her INSTEAD OF ME at a pizza place and is being nice, and the next-" Josh tries to shrug him off.

"Chris, would you get-"

"And the next," Chris talks louder to negate Joshua's protests. "He's talking to her like she ran over his dog. Look at the rage in his eyes, man!" I wrap my arms around my shivering figure.

"Can we please go inside?" Josh rolls his eyes, finally stepping out from under Chris's arms and motioning me to follow him in. Sam and Chris exchange a look I can't catch the meaning of.

"Jordan!" Beth squeals. Josh flinches at the noise, but a smile begins to take it's rightful place on his lips. Beth wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, nearly knocking me down.

"Hi, Beth," I laugh, catching my balance and returning the greeting. "Do you greet everyone like this?"

"Yes!" Hannah answers for her sister as she joins in the embrace. Her head snaps to Josh. "Did you say hello, Joshua?" He rolls his eyes.

"Yes, I said hello."

"Did you hug her?" My eyes widen at Hannah. Both her and Beth have not let me go. Before they force Josh to hug me, I butt in.

"There's no need for-" it's too late. Hannah grabs Josh by his shirt and pulls him into the group hug. He groans, but complies, knowing it's futile to battle his younger sisters. He's careful not to touch me.

When they finally let me go, I sigh in relief and smile at them. "It's good to see you."

"We're so glad you could make it," Beth smiles. She adjusts her beanie as she leads me to the couch in the huge living room. "Are you cold?"

"Oh hell yeah," I laugh. "And of course, thank you for inviting me. It actually means a lot." Beth 'aw's at me as she sits down. There's a fireplace going, so instead I move to sit at the edge. It burned, but not too much. "Where's everybody else?" I ask, looking around me. 

"I think they're just settling into their rooms," Beth answers. "Josh and Hannah are probably in the kitchen. Do you want to see where you're sleeping?"

"Later," I say, smiling at her. "I'd like to warm up first." She smiles back at me.

"Sure thing. Do you mind if I take your bag to your room?" 

"You don't have to do that."

"We're your hosts! I want to." I laugh softly and nod. Beth happily stands from her spot on the couch to take my bag upstairs to wherever they had me sleeping. As she disappears from view, Emily and Mike pass her on the stairs, followed by Ashley and Matt. 

"Oh, she's here! Didn't think you'd make an appearance," Emily says, looking me up and down in annoyance. 

"I said I'd be here," I respond softly. My eyes turn to the others behind her. None of them make eye contact with me, staring instead at the stairs they walked down. 

"One can still hope you changed your mind!" Emily sighs in a mocking tone, a sarcastic smile on her face. Jess appears, walking quickly down the stairs past Emily and moving to you.

"Hi, Jordan!" Jessica greets me warmly, giving me a quick hug. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely shocked at this. Jess was never outright mean to me, but a kind, excited welcome was the last thing I'd expected from her. I'm not one that's familiar with perfumes, but whatever Jess was wearing smelled immaculate.

"Uhm, hey, Jess," I respond. "You smell really good." Mentally, I'm slapping myself. Was that weird to say? She pulls away from the hug. Her smile is wider, now.

"Oh, thank you! It's actually brand new, I bought it this morning before I -"

"Excuse me!" Emily huffs, attempting to shoulder check me as she goes to the couch. I'm able to dodge it, being checked enough to know when it's about to happen. I sigh heavily. She went completely out of her way to do that, I'm nowhere near the couch. I'm so close to asking what her deal is when Jess continues.

"Emily is my girl, she's actually really great she's just, like, really tired or something. I don't know. Try to not take her too seriously, okay?" she takes both of my hands into hers and looks me in the eyes.

"...yeah, okay," I agree. She thanks me before turning to go sit on the couch with the others, her twin pony-tails bouncing. I awkwardly wave at them all. Ashley smiles meekly and nods while Matt offers me a small wave back. Mike glances at me and nods so slightly I can barely see it, which I can only assume is at my own mercy.

"Okay party people," Josh starts, walking back into the living room. "Now that we have everybody here..." Chris, Sam, and the twins follow behind him. "Thank you all for coming. Drinks are in the kitchen... Now let's get fucking wasted!" Josh throws his hands into the air and mock cheers while the others whoop. I step back until my back is to the wall, trying to stay out of the way as everyone heads to the kitchen.

I'm not sure why I'm trying to hide. It's not like I wasn't invited. It's not like I'm not welcome - though, I can't help but feel that I'm not. Other than the twins and Chris, nobody seemed to actually enjoy my presence. I decide that, for now, I'll stay near the fire.

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

"Jordan!" Chris calls, walking to me with a drink in his hand. "Are you cooked yet?" I look up from my phone to see him. He was walking just fine, but it was just crooked enough for me to know he was tipsy. It had been two hours since Josh had announced drinks were available, and no one appeared to have wasted a second.

"Cooked?" I smile, confused. "What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" he sits down next to me, his drink nearly spilling. It was filled to the brim. "You've been around this fire all night! Are you going to come hang out, or, what?" I cross my arms and shrug.

"I think you'll be okay without me."

"But I want you around," Chris says, softly. "You're my family, I love you. And I love having you around, and I love having my friends around." He drapes an arm over my shoulder, and I lean into him. "Having my favorite cousin and all of my friends in the same place is honestly just amazing for me." I sigh again, my walls crumbling.

"Fine, I'll hang out." Chris springs up in excitement. This time, he does spill his drink. I'm not familiar enough with alcohol to know what it was, but the smell tells me it's strong.

And half of it is on my jeans.

"Oh, shit, Jordan, I'm sorry," Chris apologizes. I laugh and tell him not to worry as Hannah comes over to me.

"I'll show you where your room is, if you want to change!" she offers. I nod, and she begins leading the way. Once we're up the stairs, she stops and turns to me.

"What do you think of Mike?" she asks, her tone hushed but excited. My eyebrows raise in surprise.

"Mike? Emily's boyfriend?" I ask. I look around as if Emily could be hearing us. "I don't know, I feel like speaking his name will curse me to eternal damnation." Hannah laughs and pushes my shoulder. As quickly as we stopped, we continued down the hall. When we get to the last wooden door, she opens it for me. I thank her as I walk in, and she follows to sit on my bed while I kneel at my bag.

"C'mon, tell me what you think! He's handsome, right?" She's a bit louder now that there's no way we can be heard.

"Yeah, I guess so," I admit. It was common knowledge.

"Oh, my God, you guess so? Jordan, he's so dreamy." Hannah flops back onto my bed and sighs, as if lovestruck. As I find a pair of pants, I stand and side-eye her. "His hair, his eyes, his muscles? I just CAN'T!" She smacks a pillow onto her face and squeals in excitement.

"I guess he's also taken," I say. Hannah removes the pillow and rolls her eyes. "But, he seems nice. I don't know. Not really my type." At that, she sits up like Michael Myers. I feel instant regret as I knew what she was going to ask me. I start to pull my pants down, covering myself as much as possible.

"So, what is your type?" I sigh for what feels like the millionth time that day.

"I don't know, Hannah, I never really paid attention to that sort of stuff."

"There has to be something, Jordan," Hannah insists, standing up as I pull on a pair of grey sweatpants. "Eye color? Hair? Bald? Do you like muscles? C'mon Jordan, give me something!" I look in the mirror and take off Sam's jacket and my oversized hoodie, ignoring Hannah for a moment as I thought about what my 'type' was. My t-shirt is form fitting, but not skin tight.

"I like green eyes," I offer quietly. It's the first thing I can think of, and I hope that will satisfy her. I look at her in the reflection of the mirror and there's something in her expression that worries me.

Mischief.

"I'll accept that for now," she sighs, failing to hide her scheming grin. "C'mon, Jordan, no more hiding. Everybody is already tipsy so they'll totally be way nicer."

"If you say so."

"I do." Hannah smiles at me and takes my hand.

"You Washingtons," I laugh. "What's up with your family and taking people by the hand when you take them somewhere?" Hannah bursts out laughing. When we get to the kitchen with everyone else, her smile is wide.

"What's so funny?" Emily asks, tilting her head. I suddenly felt as though I was in trouble.

"Jordan just pointed out upstairs that the Washington family has a thing with holding hands when we take someone somewhere," Hannah giggles.

"Oh, shit, she's right!" Josh gasps. "Duuuude." Chris bumps his shoulder against Josh's.

"Duuuude!" They suddenly start shoving each other back and forth, everyone else in the kitchen giving way immediately as if this were a common occurrence. I lean over to Ashley, who noticeably leans away as if in disgust. I ignore this.

"Does this happen often?" I murmur. She laughs and seems to relax some.

"Yes." The boys were on the floor now, wrestling and laughing. Hannah is whispering something to Beth, and both of them are glancing at me. If they were trying to hide the topic of their conversation, they had failed miserably.

"...I like your hat." I compliment softly. Ashley seems surprised by this, but her smile doesn't falter.

"Thanks, Jordan."

"AND I AM THE MIGHTY WINNER!!" Josh exclaims, making me jump. He stands up quickly, stumbling some as he does. Once he catches his balance, he places a foot atop Chris's chest. He was playing dead, eyes closed and sticking his tongue out. Josh is breathing heavily and laughing. Everyone in the kitchen applauds, laughing and cheering - Emily, even, though not without a major roll of the eyes. My own smile is wide enough that it feels strenuous.

Josh's face was red from the exercise and his thick, dark hair was messy and disheveled. Though it was usually brushed back, it was tousled to the point where it was stuck to his forehead in sweat. Josh's hair was never in his face, so it was odd to see. He's breathing heavily, his winning smile never leaving his face even as Chris starts to get up.

I don't realize I'm staring until Josh looks up at me, locking eyes with mine. My smile drops. His own falters, but he doesn't look away. I gulp and I can feel my face growing hot with embarrassment. He looks as if he's scanning my facial features, trying to figure me out. For a moment I swear he glances at my body. It's not until Jess suddenly bumps my shoulder and hands me a drink that I'm able to snap out of it. She gives me a wide-eyed 'what was that??' look as she turns back away from me to talk to Mike and Emily. I look over at Josh again, and he's no longer looking my way.

Why was he looking at me like that? I furrow my eyebrows and look into whatever Jess handed me in a red solo cup. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I look up at Hannah. She smiles sweetly at me, raising her eyebrows in excitement. I wonder what she's doing, but when she looks down at my drink I understand she's trying to be encouraging in her own drunken way.

"Jordan, you don't gotta, uhm, drink that, if you don't wanna," Josh says, bumping hips with his sister hard enough to have her stumbling a few feet. "If you don't feel safe, y'know?" He stands up straight and reaches for my drink. "You gotta feel safe when you're under my care." My heart skips a beat and I pull the cup away from his hand. He gives me a surprised yet concerned look. I take a deep breath and put the cup to my lips.

This isn't my first time drinking. It won't be my first time drunk. Around people, however? Yes, this was a first. The only person I've been drunk around was Chris during a couple of our cousin sleep overs in high school. I not only sip my drink, I gulp it down quickly. It burns. It's not good. I knew, right as I took my final gulp, that I was fucked. Everybody had migrated out of the kitchen by now and into different parts of the lodge, leaving Josh, Chris and I in the kitchen. I can already feel the heat from the alcohol begin to buzz around my cheeks.

"Duuuude." says Chris.

"Broooo..." says Josh.

"Guuuuys...." says I. Chris and Josh laugh at me.

I laugh, too, and I feel good.

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

Hey y'all, thanks for reading! I'm really glad to be posting another chapter so soon after the last - and there will likely be another very soon! I'm in the writing zone right now, I suppose.

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest

[lovelytsunoda]

the sixth sense | jake "hangman" seresin

summary: after a car accident totals her car and leaves her with the ability to see ghosts, an anxious police desk sergeant learns to live with the ghosts haunting her home, and the crush she has on the hot pilot who lives next door

pairing: jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

warnings: car accidents, ghosts (but they're very funny ghosts!), sexual innuendos/advances made by a ghost, if you can recognize the names of the detectives/station staff and can correctly tell me what tv show they are from, you get a metaphorical cookie. jake is a very involved neighbour.

author's note: my f1 fics for this collection have been on the struggle bus lately, so here's hoping my top gun one does better

sargeant y/l/n wouldn't say she hated her job, exactly, but there were many days where she wasn't always thrilled with it. take today for example, her desk piled high with requisition forms for fingerprint checks, traffic camera footage, autopsy reports and more.

it wasn't that she didn't like the work. no, she found catching murderers to be most rewarding. it was the people she worked with. detectives who didn't see her as an equal, but as a machine, dropping files on her desk with a demand and an impossible deadline.

"yn, how busy are you for the next few days?"

she raised her eyebrows at the detective across from her. "for you, detective disher? i won't be free until at least the end of the week."

detective disher raised an eyebrow. "how much work are they piling on you? you aren't their servants, you can speak up and tell them you're too busy."

she rolled her eyes, chewing the end of her bic pen. "usually they hightail it out of here before i even have a chance to open my mouth. some of them don't even speak to me or give instructions, they just drop a file on my desk and assume that i know what to do with it."

detective disher frowned. "we really need another desk sargeant."

"you think?"

it was long after sundown when she left the office that night, overtime she probably wasn't going to get paid for. she hoped that leaving at 6:30 was worth it to have a clean desk in the morning, one almost free of files long enough that she could breathe. of course, by the morning, all of the late shift detectives would have dropped all of their files off for her review.

she was about halfway home when traffic started to pick up again, the glow of the led headlights making it difficult to see out of her side mirrors. her glasses claimed to be glare resistant, but what did someone without astigmatism know about glare?

she turned right at the next set of lights, descending down the hill that would lead to her small, cosy neighbourhood. she was still a fair distance away as she watched the light change from yellow to red, taking her foo toff the gas. the car ahead of her seemed to be slowing, but not by much, and the car behind her was uncomfortably close. she sped up slightly, ready to put her foot on the brakes whenever neccesary.

wait a minute, are his break lights out? he's stopping!

she slammed her foot on the brakes, watching helplessly as her car continued to slide forward, her front bumper colliding with the rusted tail hitch.

her head jerked forward from the impact, banging against the steering wheel before it all went black.

she came to in the hospital, where audio was blurry and vision even worse as the doctor explained the symptoms of a concussion to her.

“it was a bad scene all around. you’re lucky you weren’t injured further.” the doctor insisted. “legally, I can’t allow you to drive for the next few days. is there someone we can call?”

realistically, the only name that came to mind was detective dishers. her parents were two cities away, and she didn’t want to disturb them. her sister was on vacation, and she didn’t want to bother any of her friends.

disher picked her up by the main doors, a matchbox twenty song playing on his stereo as she groggily slipped into the passenger seat, a plastic baggie full of prescription drugs in her hands.

“just take me home, randy. I don’t want to talk about it.”

the detective sighed. “okay. But you know you don’t have to come into work tomorrrow, right?”

great. no work meant no leaving the house. no leaving the house meant that her thoughts drove her to the brink of madness.

she simply couldn’t win.

as she slipped into her bed, she must have been slowly losing her mind as she swore that she could hear voices in her room as she was drifting off. she didn't think much of it, chalking it up to exhaustion as she let sleep claim her.

the following morning, she groggily puttered around the kitchen, assembling a light breakfast as she called her captain to explain why she couldn't come to wrok.

"hey captain, i was in an accident last night-"

"i know. randy called me. are you doing okay?"

"no concussion, but the doctor wants me to monitor for signs, so i'm not super hopeful. disher drove me home, and i'm supposed to hear from the mechanics about the state of my car later today."

"well, take care of yourself, yn. if you need anything at all, you have my number, and you have randy's. but don't call adrian, he's probably just going to make things worse."

she sighed, rubbing the skin on her forehead, fingertips teasing the edge of the bandages from where she'd hit her head on the steering wheel. "thanks leland."

"my my, you look a little worse for wear, don't you?" the voice came from nowhere, very thickly british and definitely not familiar.

she spun around, spying a figure in the kitchen doorway. his long hair dusted the shoulders of his leather jacket, and his skinny jeans were ripped to oblivion. she screamed, reaching for the metal ladle in her utensils jar.

"how the fuck did you get into my house?"

"your house?" the man looked confused. "sweetheart, i've always been here. i wouldn't throw that at me, if i was you. you'll just damage the wall behind me."

"who the fuck are you?" she stammered. "you're not real, this is just concussion brain, i should call the doctor back and go another scan-"

"you're seeing ghosts, honey." this voice was older, deeper. kinder. and significantly less british. another body materialized in her kitchen, sitting at her breakfast counter. she was round and plump, with a rosy face and sweet, kind eyes. she wore a nun's habit over a white blouse and a long navy skirt. "rick over there died in 1984. i'm sister katherine, and i died in 1961. lovely to meet you properly."

"the fuck do you mean i'm seeing ghosts?!" yn screamed, the sound reverberating through her skull. "you're not real!"

"i understand that this is a lot to take in." sister katherine insisted "but it must have something to do with the accident you were in last night."

"how do you know about my accident?" she pushed, brandishing her metal spoon as a weapon.

rick rolled his eyes. "because we watched that detective bring you home last night. tell me, are you two sordid lovers? if i wasn't dead i would love to get a piece of your-"

"enough, richard!"

"what the hell is happening right now? has he been watching me in the shower?" yn hissed under her breath, starting to pace back and forth in front of her stovetop.

"if you've got a head injury, you should really sit down." the nun kept trying to reason with yn, but nothing in this situation made one iota of sense.

she shakily sat down in one of the ikea chairs in her kitchen, and noted how badly her hands were shaking. she dropped the ladle on the table, clasping her hands together. she refused to look at rick and sister katherine, instead focusing on where her shellac manicure had begun to chip.

she really should book herself in for a fresh one.

"we have visitors!" rick's voice carried, his ghostly body reappearing next to yn. she startled in the chair, refusing to meet his eyes. "he looks annoyed, and he's wearing mechanics coveralls. i wore a pair of those on stage once. ladies love 'em."

"he was in a very unsuccessful hair band." sister katherine clarified.

"i need both of you to stay quiet for a second." she sighed. "he must be from the body shop."

she closed the front door behind her, although that was unlikely to do much against two beings who could walk through walls, but a girl could try.

"are you y/n y/l/n?"

"sergeant y/n y/l/n." she corrected. "san francisco pd. can i help you?"

"i'm from clint's garage, detective disher brought your car in last night."

that didn't sound good. behind her, she could hear a car door slam in her neighbour's driveway. oh good, jake was home. she tried not to let her eyes wander, waiting with bated breath for what the mechanic was going to say next.

"the front bumper was totally smashed, caved in where you hit the trailer hitch. the hood is also bent back a bit from impact. the good news is that the airbags didn't go off, which means your car can be fixed. the bad news is that it's going to cost more than your car is worth."

she could feel her headache coming back, her legs beginning to feel weak. she knew her car wasn't worth much due to it's age. but the city didn't pay her enough for her to be able to take on the payment for a new car outright, even if she was buying used.

she felt unsteady, and her body was starting to list to one side as two strong arms picked her up.

"i've got you, just keep breathing." the smell of cologne was overwhelming. there was no way in fuck that was rick, and it wasn't the mechanic.

she'd know that texan drawl anywhere. and that meant that right now, she was in navy pilot jake seresin's arms.

and that idea made her feel a little more faint that normal.

jake seresin had lived in that neighbourhood longer than her. she'd moved into her rental house just over four years ago, and he'd bene there on viewing day in a tight white tank top and jeans, getting all sudsy as he washed his silverado in the driveway. she couldn't resist watching from the window as he got into his truck in full navy fatigues before he went to work, or when he worked out shirtless on his front lawn since the porch took up most of the back.

she cleared her throat. "can i get an estimate for the repairs? will it cost less than buying a whole new car?"

the mechanic sighed. "look, even at randy's mates rate, it would still be more advisable to buy something new. go to a dealership and look at the preowned lot, anything less than 20k will serve you a lot better than getting this car fixed up would."

she couldn't form words, mind going fuzzy from the feeling of jakes hand on her lower back, and the thought of going back inside and facing the ghosts again.

"thanks, man. she can't drive for a few days anyway," jake started "but i'll bring her to the car lot when she's better and help her find something nicer."

jake helped her back inside, where the ghosts were watching giddily with their heads through the kitchen wall.

"you didn't have to do that." she insisted, avoiding eye contact with sister katherine while she spoke to jake. "i really can't afford a new car."

she could hear sister katherine in the background, whispering to rick. he's a hot one, and a real gentleman too!

"but you can't drive that one either. it's almost twenty years old, yn." jack frowned. "treat yourself. finance if you have to. take the scrap money and run, that's what i would do. you think the navy pays me well either?"

she fought the urge to bury her head in her hands and slump down on the table. "can you drive me to my follow up at the end of the week? he just wants to make sure there's no brain damage. i was going to get detective disher to do it, but if you have the morning off its less hassle."

jake looked puzzled. "why would you want me to do it instead of your boyfriend? shouldn't that be his job?"

"why the fuck does everybody think i'm hooking up with randy?" she shouted. "jesus, jake. he's my fucking boss."

the pilot's face was red as he carded his fingers through his hair. "he just seems to be over here a lot. he drove you home from the hospital last night and i just assumed."

"he's over here a lot because his girlfriend threw him out so sometimes i let him sleep on the daybed in my spare room while he finds a new place. we've been friends for years, we were at the academy together. i could be where he is if i wasn't too chickenshit to go into the field."

jake paused for effect. "well, this is awkward. are you sure you never thought about it."

despite herself, yn laughed. "we hooked up once back at the academy. we were sooo not compatible."

"i fucking knew it!" she heard rick shout in the background. "men and women can't just be friends!"

"richard!" sister katherine cut him off. "let the girl speak and mind your own business."

"lucky for you," jake grinned, totally unaware of the ghosts arguing behind him, every syllable of their argument making yn cringe inside "i happen to have the day off on friday. i'll take you to the doctors, and if everything is good, we can go to the car lot where i bought my truck. the guy will give you a good deal."

"i want a volkswagen. that's non-negotiable." she warned.

"that's fine. we can even stop by the garage and pick up your scrap money to put towards a deposit."

her chest felt tight with everything jake was offering to do for her. it was a slight anxiety, but a positive one. nerves that sprung to mind when she thought that maybe jake was offering to do all of these things for her because he wanted to be more than just her neighbour.

and as incredible as she knew it would feel to have a special place in jake seresin's heart, she'd been out of a relationship for so long that being in one again scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

true to his word, jake picked her up promptly at ten am the following morning. she had stressed about what to wear all morning, dodging criticisms about her outfit choice from sister katherine ('seriously, what on earth are they selling in the clothing shops these days? tops are supposed to go to the top of your jeans! what happened to dressing respectably?) and outdated sex tips from rick (which came with a knowledge of the ghost's kinks that she wished she could erase from her memory).

"just to be clear, you guys are bound to this house, right? you died here and now you can't leave?"

sister katherine nodded. "that is how being dead works, my love. we have to stay here while you go out gallivanting with your fancy man."

she stifled a laugh. "jake is not my fancy man. and neither is randy."

"whatever you say, cutie." rick winked. "and if you ever find yourself being undead in the walls of this house, give me a call and let me rock your world."

shaking her head with a laugh, she closed the front door behind her and headed over the grass to jake's house. he was waiting with two thermoses of hot chocolate and looked like he had just finished vacuuming the inside of his truck.

"good morning sunshine, let's go get you a clean bill of health!"

the wait to see the specialist was longer than the appointment. it lasted no longer than half an hour while the doctor took another brain scan and declared that there was absolutely nothing wrong with y/n aside from some superficial bruising to the skin on her forehead where she hit the steering wheel. jake insisted that her clean bill of health was worth celebrating, ushering her back into the truck and refusing to tell her where they were going.

"you know i'm a serving police officer, right? one call to captain stottlemeyer and there's a all points bulletin out on your truck."

jake laughed heartily. "i'm not kidnapping you, sweets. damn, you really don't like surprises."

"can't say i'm a fan."

minutes later, jake pulled off a secluded country road and into a parking lot lined in mulch. for a place that was so out of the way, the parking lot was packed to the brim and jake had to park the silverado what felt like miles away from the building itself. like a true gentleman, he helped her down from the truck's cab, one hand on the small of her back as they walked towards the large country store.

"a farmers market?" she giggled. "big bad hangman frequents farmer's markets?"

"how do you know my call sign?"

"you have it written on a metal sign in your garage."

jake winked at her, opening the heavy glass door. the country store was in a large refurbished barn, with the hayloft having been fully converted into a small cafe. his hand was warm through her cinnamon colored t-shirt as jake guided her towards the stairs to the cafe.

"do you like cinnamon buns?"

"of course i like cinnamon buns. who do you take me for?"

laughing to himself, jake had a large smile on his tanned face as he guided her towards a window seat. "make yourself comfy, sugar. i'll be right back."

she hated to see jake seresin leave, but she loved to watch him go, shamelessly watching the rippling muscles underneath his tight levis jeans.

he came back a few minutes later, two white china plates in hand, each one with a steaming warm cinnamon bun on top. as he passed her a plate, the cowboy made the bold claim that these were the best cinnamon buns in san francisco.

"i'll be the judge of that." yn said with a laugh, trying to pick up the sticky pastry in her hands in the most dainty way possible. the buns were large, mostly taking up the small plate.

"need a knife for that, sarge?"

"shut up, hangman."

"you know i outrank you, right?" jake joked, a sly look in his eyes.

she stuck her tongue out at the pilot, wishing she had a third hand so she could give him the finger. "bite me."

"all in due time, sugar."

she tried to hide the blush taking over her face, busying herself with taking the first bite of her pastry while she tried to ignore the images that jake's comment had conjured in her mind.

of course, the moan that she let out upon tasting the pastry did nothing to ease the sinful thoughts creeping into her mind. she could tell jake noticed, his breath momentarily catching in his throat despite the smile never breaking on his face.

"am i right or am i right?"

"fine." she playfully rolled her eyes. "you were beyond right. these are incredible!"

she beamed over at jake, wiping up some of the warm glaze on her chin that hadn't fully dried before she'd taken a bite. he was sitting across from her at the small table, and had yet to touch his cinnamon roll.

"you've got a little something..." he started, reaching a warm hand over the table to brush against her lips, wiping up some cinnamon that had been left behind.

her breath caught at the action, her eyes catching jake's blue ones. he truly was a beautiful man. time seemed to slow, jake's eyes slowly moving from her own to her lips and then back up again, her cheeks heating under his gaze.

"yn, can i kiss you?"

"yes."

he leaned over the table, gently rising from his wooden chair as he pressed his lips against hers. he was soft at first, almost apprehensive until she gripped his wrist where he was caressing her face, tilting her head back to give him a better angle and kiss him harder.

kissing jake seresin was everything she'd wanted it to be and more. if this was a movie, there would be fireworks going off behind them, and a sappy pop rock ballad playing as background music. perhaps something by lifehouse or matchbox twenty.

her lips felt sticky as jake pulled away, a goofy smile on both of their faces.

"you haven't touched your pastry." she said shyly.

jake grinned. "that's because you taste a lot nicer."

they stopped at the dealership on the way back, after having picked up the scrap money. yn test drove a volkswagen, fairly new with few miles on it. she decided to make it a point to come back within the end of the weekend, having already fallen in love with the little car. she felt like was, for lack of better words, walking on sunshine as jake pulled into his driveway, one of his large hands resting comfortably on her thigh.

he helped her down, looking forlornly over to her house, almost as if he'd enjoyed himself and didn't want the night to end.

"i have to go into work early tomorrow, and you've probabaly got heaps of work to do as well, so i'll let you get back to it." jake sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. "but, if you're up for it, i can stop by tomorrow and make you something for dinner?"

she smiled up at him, reaching to take his free hand in hers. "i'd love that." remembering her ghostly guests, she hesitated. "but maybe we could do it at your house instead?"

"i would like nothing more, sarge."

"good." she pressed up onto her tiptoes, kissing jake softly.

his hand snaked around her waist, slipping into the back pocket of her jeans as he deepened the kiss. she hummed contentedly, gently stroking his face with her thumb, hand resting on his cheek.

"i can't wait." she winked at him before she cut across her front lawn, backing towards her property. her southern gentlemen saluted her as she unlocked her front door, slipping inside the foyer.

"soooooooo." rick's familiar english drawl began. "how did things go with john wayne over there?"

and despite herself, yn was very much looking forward to sharing details of her budding romance with rick and sister katherine.

things were coming up roses for sargeant yn yln, and she was so excited to see what the future had in store.

[sommerbueckers]

HIHI ITS 🤍 I LOVED THE LAST ONE SHOT YOU WROTE FOR MY REQUEST SO IM BEING GREEDY AND SENDING ANOTHER⁉️

so basically it’s fluff with paige finding out her gf/flirty friend?? doesn’t know how to drive/isn’t good at it and teaching her🤭🤭 just imagine paige teases her about her bad parking, hand on her thigh the whole time she tries to focus on driving, praising her when she’s doing good

need this woman SO BAD

Did y'all miss me??

HI BABY, so glad you loved the last one and I hope this one meets ur standardsssss

Paige sighed as she pulled into a gas station and parked the car. It was mostly deserted with the exception of a family that was taking their leave.

"I'll pump and you grab snacks?" she quirked a brow at you and was met with a nod.

The two of you were four hours into your adventitious road trip and you could tell Paige was getting tired. You had encouraged her to get as much rest as possible so that she'd have enough energy to make the full drive, it's not because you didn't want to drive, but because you didn't know how.

You had never learned to drive simply because you never needed to. Throughout high school you had taken the bus to and from school, your friends and parents drove you to every public event, and you never went anywhere you didn't feel absolutely inclined to. So learning to drive was never something that crossed your mind.

But sitting in the passenger seat of Paige's car with her barely able to keep her eyes open, it was the only thing on your mind.

You grabbed two Redbulls from the refrigerator section and a couple random snacks before making your way to the register. Pulling out your wallet you said, "Can I put twenty-five on pump four?"

...

"You get me Tru Fru?" Paige perked up when she noticed you approaching the car.

"Duh, a Redbull too, can't have you fallin' asleep behind the wheel," you snorted, hoping she got the message.

"About that," the blonde started, leaning in through the driver side window, "I was thinking you could take over for a little."

"Take over what?"

"Driving, what else?" she laughed.

"How am I gonna watch my show if I'm driving?"

"C'mon ma, just for a little. I just need a break."

"I told you to go to sleep last night but you wanted to watch another episode, now you have to pay the price."

"Bro," she groaned, resting her forehead on her forearms. "It's not like you were against watching another episode, you wanted to see the recoupling just as much as I did."

"Wait we need to talk about that for a moment, because that shit was crazy."

"Nah for real though! I love Mackenzie 'n' all but choosin' her over Courtney was fuckin' crazy."

"Yeah, yeah and-"

"No, stop," Paige interrupted, "you're trying to distract me from the conversation."

You sighed in defeat, "It was working for a moment," you mumbled.

"Please peach, just drive. Drive for a little and then we can switch back," she pleaded.

"Paige I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because I-" you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face, "I can't drive."

"What do you mean?"

She was met with silence as you shook your head and leaned back, embarrassed to admit it out loud.

"Look I get that you don't want to but I don't want to drive another-"

"No, Paige I literally can't drive. Like I never learned how."

"Huh? You're jus' lyin' so you don't have to drive," she frowned.

"Dude why do you think I never drive to your house?"

"'Cus you don't have a car."

"And why do you think that is? 'Cus I can't fuckin' drive."

Paige stared silently at you, her eyes wide with shock as she processed the information. She bit the inside of her cheek and tapped her fingers against the door. When the pump popped out of the socket, she placed it back into the hold and got into the car.

She didn't start it back up, just stared at you with a teasing smile.

"You really never learned how to drive?" she asked.

"Never."

"You never wanted to learn?"

"I never needed to."

"So how did you get everywhere?"

"The same way I do now. Ubers, busses, my friends."

Paige shook her head, "I can't believe this, we gotta do somethin' about this."

...

"What is this?" you frowned, pausing your Netflix show and looking through the windshield.

"This is my course."

"Your what?"

"My driving course, where you're gonna learn how to drive," Paige said.

"Paige what? No, what're you doing?"

Paige parked the car and unbuckled her seatbelt, not answering your question as she stepped out and walked over to your side.

"Either you can get out this car willingly or I can get you out myself. You pick."

You looked up at her with pleading eyes, begging her not to make you do this. But she didn't seem to care, leaning patiently against the car door as she waited for you to get out.

"Ugh, fuck."

...

"Alright adjust your mirrors, make sure you can see your surroundings," Paige instructed.

"Oh my god, look at my eyebrows!" you frowned, running your finger across all the little hairs surrounding them.

"Focus!" Paige exclaimed, thumping your head. "Now put the car in drive."

"It won't move," you roughly tried yanking the gear stick back but it wouldn't budge. "Maybe this is a sign that we shouldn't be doing this."

"Shut that shit up," Paige snorted, "put your foot on the break and then change gears."

Once you switched the gears and let your foot off the break, the car began to move on its own. In a panic, you slammed your foot back down, jerking the car forward.

"Shit! I wasn't even pressing the gas," you frowned at the blonde.

"Yeah the car moves by itself," Paige suppressed a laugh as she nodded at you. "Just relax," she breathed out, gently rubbing her hand up and down your thigh. "You don't gotta be scared, i'm right here."

You nodded your head and gave her a smile, turning your attention back to the empty parking lot in front of you. With a deep breath, you finally eased your foot off the break.

...

"Go up more...little more. Good girl," Paige gave your thigh a light squeeze as she praised you.

You could feel your cheeks heat up at her words and you did your best to focus on driving.

"Alright now put the car in reverse and turn the wheel that way as you back up," the blonde said.

"Can't believe I'm fuckn' doing this," you breathed out through a laugh.

Paige smiled, "Doin' great baby."

Paige's hand inched higher and higher the more you backed the car into the lines. As her hand crept toward the inside of your thigh, you panically -- for the second time -- slammed your foot on the break.

"What just happened?" she asked when you parked the car.

"I got nervous," you shrugged innocently.

Paige smirked knowingly at you before unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car to check your job. Her eyebrows shot to her hairline and she tilted her head, chuckling to herself.

"I don't think I've ever seen worse," she said once back in the car.

"Stop. Was it really that bad?"

"No, no," she smiled, taking your hand and placing a kiss on your knuckles, "You just need a lil practice, that's all."

"You sure? Don't lie to make me feel good," you said.

"I'm not lying."

"Okay."

A beat of silence passed before Paige spoke again.

"I have seen Drew do better though..."

"Paige!"

...

"You're not being a very good student right now," Paige whispered, using her thumb to drag your bottom lip down.

"I'm only as good as you make me," you smirked.

You softly pressed your lips against hers, smiling when you felt her hand travel to the back of your neck and hold you close.

"You're so pretty," she caressed your cheek with her other hand, "and smart...even though you can't drive."

"You are such a dick," you playfully slapped her arm, pulling away and sitting back in your seat.

She shrugged to herself and opened her bag of Tru Fru, tossing a few pieces of the chocolate into her mouth. "Next lesson."

...

"Alright so this is an intersection," Paige explained, "it's packed."

You stared blankly out at the empty parking lot, furrowing your eyebrows and then side-eyeing her.

"Art of imagination," she patted your thigh. "Now the car on the left of you was here when you got here, but the car on your right got here at the same time as you, do you know what to do?"

"The car on my left goes first," you answer.

"Right, but what about the other car? Who gets to go first?"

"Whoever presses the gas harder," you snort, only to be met with Paige's unimpressed expression. "Fine. Uh...don't they go first? I have to yield to cars on my right."

"Bro you got it!" Paige smiled.

You clapped briefly, shyly shrugging your shoulders as you looked up at her. "I think I deserve a kiss."

"Oh do you?"

"Mhm...et lite kyss," you mumbled.

"Fuck that's so sexy, say somethin' else," Paige said.

"Kom hit," you gestured for her to come here with your finger, connecting your lips in a slow kiss.

"Hmm," she hummed against your lips, "you ready to go?"

You nodded your head, "Please. Do I have to drive?"

"No, not gonna make you do that."

"Good, 'cus if you did, there'd be no kisses for you tonight."

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I'm ashamed to admit that I am in fact a lazy son of a bitch...sorry

[newkatzkafe2023]

I love your work. Almost no one talks about Netflix monkey king. So May I request a reader who is kind oblivious to the fact that everywhere she goes it like those cartoon disasters. Like she could walk and a giant boulder almost hit her. The poor monkeys are the one who take the brunt of the damage and you are concerned but completely confused. Basically reader a bad luck magnet and doesn’t realize it

This reminds me of 2 things Candy by robbie Williams and Mr Bean🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

(Lmk Wukong) He is so stressed being with you everyday especially when your so unnaturally clumsy. You bever seem to be aware of your surroundings and just skip and walk while looking at your phone or just walking around smiling. Just to have a beam almost fall on you, a car almost hitting you, and to cause people to trip over and next to you. Wukong is mildly jealous That you can cause mayhem without lifting a finger, But it's also greatly cospinning and that causes him to take damage from your clumsiness. It's a good thing you love to give kisses for his boo boos🥰🥰🥰

(Nezha Reborn) you are like a black cat, a adorably sexy black cat that roams the streets with flowers in her head. Everywhere you go Is chaos and calamity happens, and the crazy part you have no freaking idea😣😣. Wukong Is dumbfounded by the stuff that happens around you like seriously How do pianos fall from the sky?!??! Why is it when you walk past a open window and explosion happens, and then the final straw is when you look on your phone and Cause a bus to hit a flag pole. Yeah Wukong Find himself Being the responsible one and Getting Is consequences to your bazaar events, but it's so cute that you turn around and show concern for him as you kiss his wounds.

(HIB Wukong) IT'S LIKE HE'S RAISING 3 BABIES AND ONE PIG!!!!!!🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 if it's not silly girl wondering off, Luier's curiosity getting the better of him, or pigsy doing something that's probably gonna get him kilt or arrested. It's you and your bad luck and Absent mindedness, like seriously, are you so stuck in your bubble? You don't see much of the world around you. Wukong luckily calms down about this because It's not like you're trying to stress him out and make him worried it's just your so damn accident prone🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ Granded it's on Wukong for baring the blunt to most of your accident but at least you take such good care of him at the end😚💋💋🧡

(MKR Wukong).............First he has to protect master Tripitaka............now he has to watch and protect YOU TOO?!??!?!?! Wukong has never seen someone so accident prone in his whole life. Like seriously HOW ON EARTH AND YOU STILL ALIVE?!??!?! Then you would have the nerve to finally pay attention to what you are doing and show concern for him when he's looks All dishevelled and beat up. You'll often pout and take out an first aid kid to come and take care of him, You drive Wukong crazy with your Terrible luck and Absent mindedness but oh my god your so sweet🥰

(Netflix Wukong) He's running around like a chicken without a head when it comes to you and your bad luck. Seriously, how are you so unbothered and unaware of your surroundings not to mention how you can just travel around like nothing is gonna happen to you. At first, Wukong thought someone was one to get you, but after a long time of watching your back, he learned about your ever so Crappy luck and he had to take the area damage. At least your always so extra affectionate when it comes to his daily injuries Making sure to kiss all his boo boos.

(BMW Wukong) Sigh you can be quite the handful for him everyday. Wukong can literally feel his own eye twitch as he watched you walk in a the field in the middle of a battle. Luckily for Wukong nothing seem to hit you infact Stranger things happen Whenever you showed up, like arrows missing you drop your book, or people hitting someone else while you bend down to fix your dress. Then the old booby trap bit when you walked into a bunch of traps and somehow only he got injured, While you come out unscathed he just doesn't understand and for once it drives him insane. At leat when you finally noticed his current condition you stop to nurse him back to help.

(Destined one) Can you believe he is adapted and got used to it quite quickly. He silently watches you on the daily so he is quick to notice you and your wildly bad luck. The Destined one has also noticed that you don't seem to mind your own clumsiness and terrible environment. In fact, what's kinda weirded him out was the fact that you don't seem to even notice it or more like your completely unaware. He takes note of this as you wrap up his latest injury, Due to your calamity.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG🤕

[nicole-alt-delete]

It was a hot summer day in Hawkins and the kids had dragged them into helping with some game once again. Eddie was more than thrilled to help, Robin had managed to escape with Nancy on a "supply run" and Steve was currently taking orders from Max, the only one of them who'd remembered to say please.

Eddie wasn't really sure what the end goal was but it seemed like they were one step away from LARPing- just changed the name so Max and El would still play. He was helping Will by carving this big fuck-all stick into a cane for him when the gravel behind him crunched under someone's feet, and a second later Steve was saying "Hey, I'm borrowing this- Thanks-" Not stopping for the answer before Eddie felt a tug at his back pocket.

He instantly whipped around, spluttering, "Absolutely not-"  and before Steve could even take a step he was fiercely gripping his black bandana taut between them like the world's saddest game of tug of war. Steve loosened his grip a little, making a point of not tugging on it or ripping it, just looking confused as he waited for an explanation.

Eddie blushed for a moment, realizing the position he'd put himself in, how protective he got over a little piece of fabric. He stammers for a second, "I- you can't just- I need that man,"

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him, clueless. "What do you mean you need it? It's been in your pocket every day and I've only seen you actually wear it once. C'mon just for today- the girls don't have any hair ties and I need to put my hair up, it's killing me,"

He sighs a little, fully aware there's nothing reasonable he could say to Steve here. He very much cannot tell him that he *needs* it just in case some hot guy walks by and happens to know what it means. That's ridiculous- especially when the guy he most wants to see it is the one tugging it away from him in the first place. Steve has no idea what it means and Eddie doesn't expect him to but it still drives him insane thinking that it could happen.

Alternatively, the idea of Steve putting his hair back with Eddie's bandana drives him a little insane too.

So he blushes, sighs, and lets go of it. Points at Steve firmly, "You better give that back Harrington, or I swear-"

Steve smiles and starts walking backwards with it, already rolling it up into a hairband as he cuts him off, "Yeah, I know Eds, you can hold it against me forever, promise,"

He runs off back to the other kids and Eddie shakes his head at him, flustered and annoyed, and forgetting himself until Will clears his throat behind him.

He doesn't say anything but he's smiling and making this little face as he looks away from Eddie, like he knows something.

"So uh. The stick?"

"Right- yes- stick- cane- it's a cane for a mighty wizard, let's go,"

--

He didn't think he'd notice it so much, but the empty feeling in his pocket is driving him crazy. He'd been wearing that stupid thing since he learned it was a thing people do- a stolen trip up to the city on a bus he snuck onto, a weekend as a runaway before he sucked it up and went back home.

Someone had called him queer and he turned expecting a fight only to see a group of freaks who stood out more than himself. They had smiled and asking him why he was all alone, and been worried. One wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't been kicked out. Another wrapped her scarf around him, and before he knew it he was in the back of a gay bar with people he'd never met and felt like he could tell anything to.

The idea of proudly wearing something that singled him out- but only to the right people- made his hart light up. It was like a new language, like thieves' cant, something secret and magic.

He'd spent hours asking about colors and being confused and rightfully embarrassed by more than a few of the answers. Some sounded better than others, some made his face flush. At the end of the day he felt better than he had in ages and he had the courage to go back home to Wayne.

Before he got back on a bus he stopped into a second hand shop and grabbed the first black bandana he could find. He debated the whole ride home which side to put it on. When he walked back up to the trailer door ready to apologize, it hung proudly out of his back left.

--

Eddie had let Steve wear it home and it was killing him, but they had stayed out late and he half forgot anyways, and Steve's hair did look pretty cute pushed back like that. Steve had promised to give it back anyways, and Eddie trusted him fully.

He just also really, really, really wanted it back as soon as possible.

So for once he got up before noon (barely- just after eleven,)  and made his way to Family Video and hopped Steve had left it in his car or something so that he could get it back then and there.

What he wasn't expecting was to walk in and see Steve bent over behind the counter with the damn thing hanging out of his right pocket, as if he had any goddamn idea what that meant.

Eddie nearly had a heart attack and was thankful the store was empty like it always was so he could sprint over, jump the counter and yank the thing out of his pocket immediately.

"What do you think you're doing wearing it like that?!"

Steve had barely registered the jingle from the door, let alone Eddie launching himself at him, and was thoroughly surprised to say the least, nearly knocking over a display as he reacted.

"Hey!  Jesus man- you can't be- what's the big deal??? That's exactly how you wear it all the time- I was just keeping it safe til I saw you again,"

He stared at Eddie properly confused, a little on guard still from how suddenly he had leapt over and how worked up he seemed.

Eddie took a deep breath and sighed, folding the bandana up in his hands and just holding it for a moment, debating what to tell Steve.

After a second Steve makes this little head movement like 'well? go on?' clearly waiting for an explanation and Eddie rolls his eyes and sighs.

"It's- Look, Stevie, you can't wear it like that, you're not- I mean it's. It's like- a symbol, okay?"

Steve leans on the counter and frowns, confused.

"A symbol?"

"Yes- yeah, like- like those little cross necklaces moms wear or Dustin's star wars shirts. They're symbols....for the same kind of people to pick up on,"

He struggles with the words, trying hard to insinuate just enough without giving it all away, still hesitantly afraid of Steve's reaction.

But Steve just looks thoughtful. Nodding a little, putting a finger to his lip as the gears turn.

"So- okay, what's it symbolize then?"

He'd been hoping Steve wouldn't make it that far.

"It's- uh. It's really not..."

Steve stares, "Man I'm not gonna judge you- just- why's it such a big deal that I can't wear it like that too?"

Eddie can't help but laugh, "If anyone who knows what it means saw YOU with it- you would- no, you'd set yourself on fire I'm sure of it,"

He shakes his head, holding the bandana tighter in his fists.

Steve only frowns though, "Eds, what's it mean? If you don't tell me I'll just get my own and wear it until someone else does,"

Eddie looks mildly terrified by the idea but laughs at it all the same. "No- No, god do not do that Harrington-"

"Then tell me,"

"I can't, it's really-"

"Eddie, I'm gonna steal it back,"

And he does, reaches for the bandana in his hands as Eddie pulls away, the two of them starting to bicker and wrestle for it, each equally stubborn until the point that Steve actually does manage to grab it.

The tension gets to him and Eddie can't help it anymore, he just blurts, "It means I'm gay, Steve!"

It makes Steve pause and Eddie uses the moment to grab it back and quickly shove it in his back pocket again, blushing furiously and hoping Steve doesn't take it too badly.

Steve's mouth opens a little to say something in response, but the door jingles and his head snaps to it, Eddie instantly hitting the floor because he's still behind the counter where he most certainly should not be.

A man comes in and asks where the new releases are and Steve happily helps him, leaving Eddie plenty of time to crawl out from behind the counter and sneak out. He almost gets away with it too, but the door opens again, jingles and Steve twists his head.

"Eddie, wait- We're not done- I'll talk to you about this later!"

Eddie doesn't look back at him as he runs out the door past Robin who had been bringing lunch back for her and Steve. She tries to greet him but he just blurts "Gotta go, Buckley," and darts past.

If he'd looked back he would have noticed how red Steve's face was. Part 2