#but maybe a suggestion or a request would be a nice kickstart

[freepassbound]

3K, Mk. 2

Well, that was actually post number 3000!

I'd noted it was coming up, and was thinking about trying to do something a bit special... but what could be more on brand than pleading for asks and reblogging my own question list? 😂

[beautifultypewriter]

Shelter Dog ~ Alfie Solomons ~ Part Two

Requested: Yes and No / Taglist: @kimmietea

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,713

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x reader

Summary: It’s a modern AU! It’s time for Reader to do a home visit with Alfie and Cyril. Neither of them have forgotten about the promise of coffee afterwards.

A/N: I loved the first part and I was considering writing more then someone inquired about a continuation, so I decided to do it.

You had gotten to the shelter early on this Tuesday morning. You wanted the morning rounds to be done before Sarah came in to cover for you while you went on Alfie and Cyril’s home visit. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t thought about today countless times in the week leading up to the visit. You had done home visits before and luckily you never had a problem with anyone who adopted one of your dogs, but this visit was going to be different. There was no doubt in your mind that Alfie was treating Cyril well and you were sure that the dog was living his best life, but you were still nervous. You were nervous not because of the actual home visit, but of what was promised after. Coffee. It had been your suggestion and Alfie seemed excited about it, but you didn’t know how he would feel today. You jumped when the bell above the door dinged and Sarah walked in. She smiled at you, “Good morning, Y/N.”

 “Good morning, Sarah.” You straightened out the stack of papers that sat on your desk before stepping out from behind the counter. Sarah took your place as you grabbed your scarf and wrapped it around your neck. You pointed to the papers, “If you could file those for me, that would be great. Morning rounds are done. The dogs are still outside; you can bring them in soon, like 20 more minutes.” She nodded at you, watching you walk back and forth across the lobby, searching for your bag and your keys. You stopped and pointed at her, “Oh and Dr. Ross is coming in an hour to take a look at Lucky’s tail. I think he may have sprained it again. Silly dog is too excitable for his own good.” You went back to looking for your bag, letting out a huff when you couldn’t find it.

 Sarah laughed at you as she held the bag out to you, “Have fun.” She was smirking at you now.

 Squinting at her, you grabbed your bag, “It’s just a home visit. I’ve done a ton of them.”

 She winked at you, “Sure and where are you going for lunch afterwards?” Your face burned red. You had forgotten that you told her you were going to grab lunch after the visit and before coming back to the shelter. It was unusual for you to be away for so long, and she knew it.

 You tried to play her question off, “I don’t know. I’m just gonna grab a quick bite in a café or something.” You moved to the door.

 “Right and who’s going to be joining you in that café?”

 You waved her off as you pushed open the door, “Goodbye, Sarah. Don’t forget about Dr. Ross.” You stepped into the parking lot and practically ran to your car, trying to put as much distance as possible between you and your nosy friend.

 You pulled up to a small house just on the outskirts of your bustling town and down some old country lane. You stepped out of your car and made your way to the front door. It was a modest house, quite plain, and you liked it a lot. It was quiet and you knew that Cyril loved it here. You knocked and the door was pulled open almost immediately. Had Alfie been standing there waiting for you? He must have noticed your confusion because he looked down and you swear you saw his ears turn red. He motioned you into the house, “Hello, Y/N.”

 You smiled at him, “Hi, Alfie.” You unwrapped your scarf as you looked around the space, noting that the home seemed comfortable and safe for Cyril. Speaking of the devil, the huge dog came bounding towards you, his tail wagging. You grinned as you dropped to your knees and scratched behind his ears, “Hi, Cyril! How are you doing, buddy?” Cyril sat in front of you, his big head resting on your arm. You took the time to look him over. He seemed to be very happy, he was a healthy weight, and he didn’t have any marks or obvious injuries. Standing up, you looked at Alfie, who had been watching you the entire time you were with his dog, “He looks good. You’ve been following the diet and other care instructions?” Alfie nodded and you motioned to the rest of the house, “That’s good. Can I see where he sleeps?” Alfie nodded again and led you into the next room. His bedroom, you realized. You could feel your face start to heat up, but you willed yourself to calm down. You were a professional and being in Alfie’s bedroom right now should not be affecting you this way. Alfie pointed to a large dog bed that had Cyril’s blanket draped over it. You smiled, “Looks good.” You turned back to Alfie, “Can we sit and talk.” You pointed to the couch in the living room and as soon as Alfie nodded, you were moving towards it. He followed you and sat next to you on the small couch. Cyril came over and sat between the two of you, looking back and forth. You laid your hand on his head, “Well I’m going to be honest here,” Alfie looked afraid and you smiled, “I really like what I see.” With that, the fear was gone from his eyes and was replaced with something much more playful.

 He winked at you, “Do you?”

 Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes, trying hard not to laugh, “Yes. I think Cyril seems really happy here with you and he looks to be in good health. The space is appropriate for him and it looks like you took the time to integrate him into your home, which is very important. So now I have to ask, how do you feel about all of this?” You hadn’t noticed at first, but Alfie had been leaning towards you as you spoke.

 He must have just noticed himself because he leaned back and ran a hand over his beard, “I love Cyril.” He sounded so sure that it almost shocked you. He nodded, “I think we’re gettin’ on brilliantly.”

 You nodded, your heart so full that you were sure it was going to burst, “That’s good to hear.” Alfie nodded and it was quiet. You stared at each other, Cyril still at your feet and looking between the two of you. He laid his head in your lap and you scratched his head.

 Alfie held his hand out, “So coffee?” The moment you had been thinking about nearly everyday was here. Alfie stared at you, waiting for any response. Your mind was racing though, and you couldn’t figure out how to make your voice work. Cyril barked and kickstarted your brain.

 “Yes, of course.” Alfie let out a breath as he used his cane to push himself up to his feet. You watched him, without making it obvious that you were doing so, and stood yourself. You walked to the front door, Alfie following behind you, and Cyril following behind him. Alfie grabbed his leash and clipped it to the dog’s collar before reaching around you and pulling open his front door.

 “There’s a nice little café not too far, if you want to walk.”

 You nodded, “That’s fine.”

 Alfie started down the road, “The owner is very nice, and she lets Cyril sit on the patio.”

 You took quick steps to catch up with him, “That is very nice of her.” Alfie nodded and the rest of the journey was spent in silence, the only sounds to be heard was the earth crunching under your feet and Cyril’s constant sniffing.

 Alfie was right. The café wasn’t very far from his home and the owner was a very nice lady. She had winked at Alfie when he walked in with you, causing his ears to turn red and you pretended not to notice. After grabbing your coffees, you moved to a table on the patio and sat across from each other. Cyril laid down by Alfie’s feet and promptly fell asleep. You sipped your coffee slowly, asking Alfie about his job and how he liked owning a distillery. He told you about how he liked being his own boss, but sometimes he took on too much at work. He asked about your family and you told him about your mother who was living in Belfast with your younger sister. Then Alfie leaned closer to you, “So how did you get into the animal shelter business?”

 You smiled, “I’ve always loved dogs and I used to take in strays and try to get them into good shape before giving them to my friends. My landlord doesn’t allow pets, so I could never keep them, but I liked helping them. Unfortunately, my landlord caught me taking the dogs in and basically ordered me to stop or I’d be out on the street, so I decided to open the shelter. That way I could still take in strays, but I wouldn’t be kicked out of my place.” You laughed and Alfie smiled at you.

 “Not a bad story.”

 You nodded, taking the last sip of your coffee, “I think it’s a good one.” Glancing at your watch, you realized that you really had to get back to the shelter. You looked up at Alfie to see that he was already looking at you, “I should get back to the shelter. Sarah is going to need my help for the evening rounds,” Alfie nodded and you both stood up.

 “I really enjoyed seeing you, Y/N.”

 “I had a nice time too.” You tucked some of your hair behind your ear, “Maybe we could do it again some time?” Alfie nodded at you quickly and you smiled. Bending down, you scratched Cyril’s head, “See ya around, buddy.” He looked at you with sleepy eyes and wagged his tail. You giggled as you stood up straight and looked at Alfie. Standing on your toes, you pressed your lips to Alfie’s cheek, “Call me whenever.” He nodded as he watched you walk away, already planning on what he was going to say when he called you tomorrow.

[ilovethings-somuch]

Good Press

Chris Evans x Reader

Fake Dating AU

A/N: Here it is! Happy Election day! Get out and VOTE! 

This is technically part of my 1.5k Followers Celebration and its been haunting me from my drafts for over a month, but I finally finished! This is a fake dating AU and it was requested by @princenyaz 

I’ve been in a rut for a while now so I’m going to share the website that has repeatedly helped me get out of ruts like this one. It’s called Fighters Block (I linked it there) and it basically gives you a fun way to reach a word count and be motivated to just keep writing something. 

“I’m sorry, you want us to what?” I asked my publicist, who also happened to be Chris Evans’ publicist, as I chose to ignore the look Chris was giving me.

“I think it would be a good idea for you two. You have a lot in common and it would give both of you a lot of positive press.”

“Why do I need positive press?” I looked at Chris for backup but he refused to meet my eye. “Are you going to back me up on this?”

“I actually, don’t think it’s such a bad idea,” he shrugged.

“Really? Other than the fact that we’d be faking a relationship? You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

“It’s not ideal, of course, but if we make a contract and know each other’s boundaries it’s basically like a business transaction.”

“I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this,” I shook my head as I glowered at both of them.

“I’m just saying it might not be that bad. The final decision is up to you,” Chris tried to assure me.

“Chris is right,” our publicist spoke up. “Take some time to think about it over the weekend, and we’ll have another meeting to discuss it on Monday.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to go on a date with Chris Evans, because honey I will gladly take your place,” my best friend, Ellie, offered when I told her about my meeting.

“That’s not the point,” I started.

“It is the point! If your publicist thinks it’s going to help kickstart your career, and that it’s going to be good on Chris’ end too, then why not? He’s a nice guy! Plus, he’s not bad to look at.”

“But it’s fake.”

“It is, but at least you know it’s not real going in. Think of it as method acting, you’re just acting as his girlfriend,” Ellie suggested.

“That’s not how it works.”

“But it can be! Don’t write it off so fast. I think it would be fun.”

“Of course you think it would be, you’re also the one who thinks skydiving is fun,” I deadpanned.

“Don’t change the subject. Look, if you’re really worried about either of you getting the wrong idea or something, just make a really good contract so that you know you’re both on the same page.”

“That’s what Chris said,” I mumbled.

“See, I knew I liked him!” she laughed before being serious again. “You asked for my opinion and I think it would be good for you. Not only because it will get your name out there, but because it will get you out there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, you haven’t so much as talked to a guy since Ryan. You need to put yourself out there again.”

I took the rest of the weekend to think about it. I weighed the pros and cons, but really I couldn’t come up with a good list of cons. I was sure there had to be a concise list of reason why this was a bad idea, but when it came down to it I could barely name three.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I sighed as I looked over my outfit one last time.

“Honestly, me neither,” Ellie laughed from where she was perched on my bed. I gave her a sulking look and she hopped off the bed to hug me. “It’s going to be fine! Chris is such a nice guy, and you made a very thorough contract, nothing could go wrong.”

“Thank you,” I hugged her back for a moment before straightening up and releasing one final deep breath.

“Now get out of here, you’re going to be late!”

I waved her off but took her advice and grabbed my bag and keys before heading out the door. Chris suggested a new restaurant downtown and even if I wasn’t excited about the date itself, I was very excited about the food. As I got out of the car I noticed another car door closing a few cars over. I looked over at the same time Chris saw me so I caught his smile and wave.

“Good timing,” he called as he waiting for me before we walked up to the door together. “You look great,” he complimented me easily and I was taken aback for a moment before remembering that that was a typical statement on a date.

“Thank you,” I recovered, “you look nice too.”

“Oh thanks, the henley really classes things up,” he joked.

We were sitting in the restaurant by then and I was trying to think of something else to say. “It shows off your tattoo at least.” There was too long of a pause before I got the words out and he seemed confused before remembering our conversation about his shirt.

“It does, do you like tattoos?”

“I like them on you.”

After the initial awkwardness, we were able to talk pretty consistently throughout the meal. I embarrassed myself a minimal number of times and before I knew it the waiter was dropping off the check. My instinct was to grab it or at least insist that we split it, but Chris was faster and quickly informed me that since he picked the restaurant it’s only fair that he pays. I was still going to argue but he shut me up by telling me that I could pick the restaurant and pay next time. That’s when I was reminded that this wasn’t just a one-time thing. We were planning on keeping up this relationship for at least a few months.

Chris offered me his arm as we stood from our table. I gave him an unsure look for a moment but he subtly nodded to the not-so-casual paparazzi that was waiting outside the restaurant and I quickly understood. It was weird how comfortable it felt being close to him, touching him, but it almost felt like I’d known him for a while. Chris escorted me to my car, the paparazzi stayed at a semi-respectable distance, but Chris still gave me a kiss on the cheek for good measure.

“I’ll call you,” he called to me as he walked backward towards his car.

“I’ll be waiting,” I teased, assuming that this was also for the benefit of the press. I later discovered that was not the case when my phone lit up with a call from Chris as I was getting into bed.

“Hello?”

“I think it’s funny that people still answer the phone like that,” he laughs into the phone. “As if you don’t have caller ID and know who’s calling.”

“It’s a force of habit,” I defend myself lightly. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I told you I was going to call you later.”

“Yeah, but I thought that was just because of the press being around.”

“That might have been part of it, but is it so bad that I like talking to you?”

I press my lips together to suppress the smile that’s trying to show, “It’s not a bad thing.”

“Good. You know, I wouldn’t have agreed to this whole setup if I found you totally intolerable.”

“Of course not, I’m glad I made that one step up from intolerable.”

“Maybe, but you’re on thin fuckin’ ice,” Chris’ accent came out as he teased.

“Oh no, baby I’m sorry, I don’t know what I would do if my fake-boyfriend broke up with me,” I whined sarcastically. Chris blurted out a boisterous laugh and I couldn’t help but feel a little pride at being the cause of that sound.

“You should do more comedies,” Chris suggested once he calmed his laughter.

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll ask my manager.”

“You mean our manager.”

“I mean my manager, but I can tell her about you if you’d like. Maybe I could get you a meeting, she’s really great. I bet she could get you some auditions, but of course, you need to be ready to start out with some low budget films. You can’t have everything, Chris.”

“Wow, the sass is really strong with you, isn’t it?” Chris said in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly backtracked. “Sometimes I can’t shut it off.”

“No, don’t apologize, really, I think you’re funny.”

“Thank you,” I trailed off awkwardly.

“Anytime,” Chris offered. “Well, um, I should get some sleep, I just didn’t wanna back out on my promise to call you. We should set up another date soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll look at my schedule tomorrow and text you or something.”

“Perfect. Well, Goodnight, (y/n).”

“Goodnight, Chris”

We ended up going on quite a few public dates the following weeks. It wasn’t until later that I realized we also started spending time together privately. I was convinced we were just becoming closer friends, and even if I wanted it to be more than that, I knew Chris didn't feel the same way. We were both just doing this to advance our careers and get good publicity, I couldn't bring myself to even consider that there could be anything more. Even when his causal touches started showing up in private, or that time he surprised me with flowers and soup when I told him I couldn't make our date due to a sudden case of the flu. That was the first night he slept over, granted, he slept on the couch and it only happened because he was convinced I was going to get worse over the night. All these moments seemed so insignificant at the time, but now I'm able to realize how important they were in the creation of our relationship.

The fake dating started seeming like less of a chore, it started feeling real. I knew I was in trouble, but I kept telling myself that even once we had to "break-up" we would still be friends and I could deal with that. Or at least I thought I could deal with that.

"You guys have been doing great," our publicist informed us. She asked us to come in for a meeting to update how we were doing with the fake relationship and because she had news for us, though she wouldn't tell us what the news was.

"It hasn't been easy," I sigh sarcastically and lean away from Chris. He laughs wholeheartedly and reaches for my hand. I don't pull away and instead, enjoy the feeling of his hand in mine.

"As much as I love seeing how well this has worked for both of your public images, I think it's time to quit while we're ahead. There was a big scandal in Hollywood last week where a couple was caught to be faking it. They were seen with other people and instead of taking a hit from a cheating scandal they thought it would be easier to admit it was fake. Now, I know you two are smarter than that, but I don't want anything like that to happen to you two and have this all be for nothing."

"So, we need to break up?" I asked, trying to mask the sadness in my voice.

"You do."

"Oh, okay," Chris replied quietly, gently dropping my hand in the process. He turned to our publicist and took a business tone, "How do we do this? Do we need to stage some public breakup or do we release a statement?"

"I think it's best if we just do a statement, as long as you two are okay with that? There's no reason we need to act like you left it on bad terms. Especially since you seem to have become friends at this point, I wouldn't want to jeopardize that."

"I appreciate that," I said and Chris met my eye with a smile.

"That means we'll have to stay away from each other for a while though, right?" Chris asked, looking back to our publicist.

"I think that would be best. I would suggest laying low for a while and then after a few weeks, don't be afraid to be seen with other people. We want to make this break up seem easy and happy. You guys could even go out together as long as it were in a group setting so it didn't seem like you were getting back together."

Chris and I left the office together. I was feeling defeated but still tried to put on a brave face since I wasn’t sure how Chris felt about the whole situation. For all I knew, he was excited for it to be over. An intrusive part of my brain wanted me to believe that is the case, even though my heart was telling me it wasn’t. Chris took my hand in his again as we stepped onto the sidewalk.

I looked up at him, confusion written on my features, and he smiled, "I figure it might be our last chance before the statement goes out tomorrow."

"You say that as if you're going to miss this," I replied in a mildly sarcastic tone. A tone that made Chris stop in his tracks, pulling me back right along with him.

"Why do you say it like that? Of course, I'm going to miss this and I'm sorry if this has been so awful for you that you're not going to miss it at all, but spending my time with you has been one of the highlights of my life lately."

"I'm sorry, I, I didn't mean it like that," I tried to rush through my words, trying to fix what I'd done, but at that point, Chris had dropped my hand and continued walking without me. A thought ran through my head about not needing to stage an argument since I could ruin any situation all on my own as I jogged to catch up with him. I took his hand in mine again as I pulled him to the stop.

"Chris, listen to me please," I looked up as a camera flash caught my eye.

"We can't do this here," he told me.

"I know, just, come over and let me explain." He agreed reluctantly and we continued on our way. I let go of his hand once he agreed and he didn’t make a move to pick it back up, even with the paparazzi on our tail. The trip to my apartment wasn’t far from the office and we walked the rest of the way in silence. As soon as we got inside Chris faced me, his arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked, trying to release some of the tension that had built between us.

"I think I'm good right here, at least until I hear what you have to say."

"Right. Okay, so, I guess, I like you. I like you more than I should and I'm not ready for this to be over."

"You have a weird way of showing it," he scoffs.

"I know, I know,” I sighed again, willing myself to say the words that had been on my mind for weeks. “I didn't want to open up and let you know how I really felt because I didn't know if you felt the same way. I didn't want to tell you and then end up losing you as a friend too. I can handle not being your girlfriend, but I can’t lose you from my life. I know you don’t like me as any more than a good friend and that’s okay, but this is why I’ve been acting weird, I was trying to keep that last bit of distance between us.”

“What makes you think I don’t like you as any more than a friend?” Chris asked with an amused look on his face.

“Well, how could you? You’re you and I’m just,” I shrugged and gestured vaguely to myself.

“Don’t do that, you’re perfect.”

“From from it,” I said immediately before the realization of what this could mean set in.

I caught Chris roll his eyes as he finally uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to me. He didn’t stop until we were almost touching, his eyes bore into mine and he cupped my chin to keep me from looking away.

“You. Are. Perfect,” he said slowly, enunciating each word with careful precision. The urge to roll my eyes was strong but the emotion he had in his eyes stopped me. “I have a confession,” he paused and took half a step back, releasing my chin. “I only agreed to this fake dating scheme because I had a bit of a crush on you. I wanted to get to know you without the pressure of a real relationship and I’d say it worked. I know you, and I like everything about you.”

“You do?”

“I do,” he said with a soft laugh. I couldn’t think of anything to say for a moment as the news sunk in and Chris took the opportunity to close the gap between us. His lips touched mine, softly at first, seeking reassurance. I gave in almost instantly, parting my mouth has his tongue glided along my bottom lip. I had a fleeting thought about getting drunk on the taste of his mouth, but before I could finish it he was pulling away. I chased his lips inadvertently and he smiled into another quick peck before fully pulling back.

“We should probably call our publicist and tell her not to run that statement,” Chris said in a somewhat triumphant tone.

“I think that’s a good idea,” I agreed, still feeling dizzy from the kiss.

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[wordsaremybestfriends]

Didn’t Ask For This: Chapter 6

Hey friends! back again for this shindig. It’s somewhat close to the end of the story and I like posting my stuff on here and all, but I’m willing to branch out to other characters if I know them well enough, so if you wanna request something, shoot me a message and I’ll try it out! :)

Warnings: Cursing, child abuse, vocal abuse, violence, *TELL ME IF YOU FIND ANYTHING ELSE*

“So what’s first?” Emma said as soon as she dropped the pail of meat and discarded the gloves. Most of the bus had been boarded up, and a few hay rolls had been moved around to arrange a sort of arena-like area in front. The kids’ discarded bikes had been secured in the body of a rusted out car, and for the most part, almost all the work had been finished for them.

“I guess we can start laying the meat out for them, right?” Lucas asked as he shoved another sheet of aluminum against the bus. “And then drench it in some lighter fluid, so we can light it up as soon as possible.”

The sun was about an hour away from setting by Emma’s estimation, which meant they had an hour left to get everything perfect before they possibly kill themselves or possibly kill a bloodthirsty mini demogorgon.

Honestly, by the looks of it, the odds were split fifty fifty between the two.

“How about making sure it can’t knock over the bus?” Steve suggested as he looked around the site.

The younger henderson rolled his eyes as he replied. “It’s one little demogorgon, I doubt it could knock over an entire school bus.”

“DIdn’t you say these things killed like, full grown men?” Max asked hesitantly with arms folded. Even though she was pretty new to the situation, she seemed to catch on and understand what was going on for the most part. “Multiple, full grown men?”

“It’s a baby one!” Dustin said. “Em and I could have killed it ourselves, really.”

“But you decided to let it out and now we’re out here, trying to catch it instead of sitting inside our nice, warm home, curled up and not fearing death,” Emma said, a dry tone overtaking her voice. She glared at her brother, and then Steve, before she spoke again. “I think we should just kind of lay low for now. The more it notices us around, the more likely it is that they’ll think it’s a trap.”

“Perfect!” Dustin exclaimed, tossing his arm around both Lucas and Max, turning them toward the bus without a second thought. “We’ve got some stuff to catch up on for now, my friends.”

Steve and Emma were left behind them as the sun slowly began it’s descent on the hills of Indiana, the sky painted with purples and pinks as it touched the horizon. The view was usually hard to see in the more residential parts of Hawkins, but Emma loved to sit atop her roof when she wasn’t working at the library in the evenings, watching the colors explode with each passing moment. She was reclining against the bus exterior, at peace to anyone looking, with the golden sunshine coloring her smooth, soft face.

And Steve thought she looked like a work of art.

“You did good, Henderson,” He said as he slid in beside her with a small smile, nudging her slightly. She gave a small laugh as she tore her eyes from the sunset, up to the boy.

“It’s nothing,” Emma replied with a genuine smile appearing on her face. “It may be my best idea, or my worst idea. I guess we’ll figure out soon enough.”

She didn’t wait for his reply as she went around him to disappear inside the bus. He followed her blindly as the sun kept disappearing beneath the horizon slowly. She swung her backpack off, taking a seat in a broken row of seating, letting her legs stretch out as she rested her head against the back of the bus. At the other end, the kids were sitting and talking in low voices, only inaudible murmurs and indistinct mumbles from her seat.

“They’re fine,” Steve said, taking a seat next to her. Their shoulders were only a few inches apart, enough to kickstart the two’s heartbeats without warning. “Trust me, this bus is rock solid. That thing was tiny, anyways. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

Emma shook her head as she watched the sky slowly darken from a crack in the window. “I know, but it’s just kind of frightening, being the bait. It just doesn’t sit well with me that this thing is back, and Will’s getting those visions and everything.”

“He was locked in another dimension for over a month,” Steve said. “It would give any kid PTSD, not to mention a young kid like him.”

“I just keep thinking about Dustin, though…” She said, shaking her head slightly with her gaze dropping to the floor instead of above. “If he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, I could lose him, just as easily as they lost Will.”

“You won’t,” Steve assured, resting his hand on her knee with a friendly pat. His smile was genuine as she looked back at him, eyes still wide with worry lip caught between her teeth. “He’s here with you, he’ll be fine.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, Steve,” She replied, flicking her eyes back to the sky. “I’ve been wrong before, and he’s gotten hurt, because of me.”

It was clear she was alluding to her father, the subject settling heavy on both of their chests. He tried to think of something to say, something worth saying and that could just calm her down for a while, so she wouldn’t freak out like last time, but nothing could come to mind except ‘holy fuck I am a total idiot’.

“Em,” He murmured beside her, squeezing her knee lightly. “Your father is an idiot who you should have never been forced to stay around. You’re the toughest, most badass girl I know. If anyone can keep your brother safe, or anyone else, for that matter, it’s you.”

The way her heartbeat began to speed up in her chest as she flicked her eyes up to Steve made her body freeze. Her entire core was slowly turning into a churning bucket of anxiety as she watched the twinkle in Steve’s eyes, his small smile igniting her skin. The way his thumb rubbed against the side of her knee made a part of her melt, and a part of her scream. It was as if her body was at war with itself, trying to decide whether or not she should just fall against him and release every demon she held within her, or rip his heart out so she wouldn’t have to deal with her stupid, confusing emotions again.

Stop acting like a lovesick fool, you idiot, she thought, eyes falling from his as her arms tensed beside her. That’s pity in his eyes, not admiration. He doesn’t like you. He never did.

Her face was unreadable as she looked towards the ladder silently and tightened the straps on her backpack once more. She stood abruptly, not another word being shared between the two, as she made her way to the back of the bus, towards the ladder to the roof. Steve’s hand sat limply near where her knee had been, the sudden loss of warmth more shocking than the actual act of her leaving his side.

“I’ll keep an eye out for anything,” She told the bus without waiting for an answer as she climbed upwards. “The rest of you stay down here, okay?”

There didn’t seem to be much opposition as she tightened her hold on her backpack, immediately hoisting herself up to the roof without so much of a second glance at Steve or anyone else for that matter. Her face was blank, expression unreadable, and for a minute, she looked more numb and robotic than anything else.

Steve held back a small groan as his head bounced off the wall of the bus. Of course he should have saved the conversation from going towards her dad. That should have been a no brainer, since he had been the only one at school when she came back that didn’t ask about her cast, or the marks across her skin. It wasn’t that he cared, of course, when the girl with the pigtails and terrible posture from reading too much, too often, came back to join him in fourth grade, he was just clueless on what had happened. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened, only that the night the story aired on the news station, his parents, when they were still around, held him tighter than normal and made sure to press soft kisses into his fluffy and untamed mane. She would sit a few desks away from him, and even though she stayed quieter than usual, she was still as incredibly intelligent and bright as the day she had left.

“Did you say something to her, Harrington?” Dustin said, a few steps away from him. He was sitting in a broken row of seats, eyes focused in a concerned glare at the older boy. “Cause if she’s upset because of you, I will personally beat your ass.”

The boy could do nothing but shake his head, unable to try and explain exactly what was going on in his mind. “Look, talking to her is hard, okay?”

“Aren’t you some kind of womanizer?” Dustin asked, eyebrow raised. “Like haven’t you had a ton of dates with different girls?”’

Steve couldn’t hold in the exasperated sigh as he rolled his eyes, a hand going to his forehead. “Jesus, kid, you’re about as bad as your sister, you know that?”

He smiled a teeth-filled smile. “That’s what I strive for.”

“Noted,” Steve murmured before Dustin continued on.

“My point is that my sister’s probably the smartest person you’ve ever met, and maybe the smartest person in Hawkins. If you try to have a useless conversation with her, then you aren’t going to get anywhere. You have to show her that you actually care about other things than just looks and availability. Show her that you’re willing to listen. Not a lot of people want to anymore, and I think that’s why she keeps herself so guarded.”

Steve nodded silently, mind going back to what she had said on the train tracks. As much as he hated to say it, the inexperienced little middle schooler was wiser on this subject than he was.

TAGGED: @luv2reade16 @lillie-writes @kararanae23@harringtonwife @tiarrasmith@sarahmariedesserts

[yourlocalyorozuya]

A Scrapbook of Memories FIc 01

Title: An innocence in loss.

Pairing: Abeno Haruitsuki/Ashiya Hanae

Rating: K+

A03 Link

[[hello everyone!]]

[[this is part of the new fukigen na mononokean drabble fic series that id been planning for a while!! im so glad i finally started it pHEW]]

[[im kickstarting it with the seven themed drabbles from abeshiya week, the one i wasnt able to participate in, so if they seem familiar thats why]]

[[and if you want to request a fic please drop a line in my ask! :>]]

[[enjoy!]]

An innocence in loss.

A Fukigen na Mononokean fanfiction

Was he too obvious? Maybe too obvious.

Probably.

Definitely.

He glances behind him again. Or attempts to for about .5 seconds before he chickens out and turns back. A new record!

...No, this is definitely very awkward and obvious. He sighs as he drops his head to his desk and groans in frustration.

There’s a comment from the teacher and stifled giggles, but he just. Doesn’t care right now.

Mostly because he can’t feel his face. He didn’t sleep at all...

...Huh.

...The desk felt...nice. Nice and cool. It was getting warmer outside, recently, and it felt nice against his cheek.

Huh.

For some reason, it’s hard to keep his eyes open. Though, technically, he actually does know why.

He grimaces a little, just a little, but it’s too comfortable to keep up.

It takes a while to open his eyes again.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

“....Wuh!”

And he sits up in his chair abruptly, regretting it immediately when his head starts to spin. "Hurgh!”

“You okay, Ashiyan?”

“...F-Fusshi.” Ashiya says, looking at the boy, “What...?”

“You fell asleep during class.” Is Saga’s input as he slides into the seat next to him.

“Yeah, that was rare! Usually, you’re so full of energy, even if you’re Hanae-chan of the Nurse’s Office!” Fushimi says.

"...Yeah...it's been a while since I heard that too." Ashiya admits. At first, he moves to swipe something from his forehead, then covering his yawn with a hand, "Sorry. I haven't been sleeping well these days."

"Bad dreams?" Saga asks and immediately Ashiya stiffens.

"...Kind of. Yeah?" Ashiya says, carefully. He seems to be playing with his hair even more now, "Yeah!"

"So it is bad dreams?"

"I mean, I wouldn't really call them bad? Or dreams? They're technically dreams..." Ashiya says , fumbling for words, "I mean, they're definitely dreams!"

"Maybe they're daydreams?" Fushimi suggests.

At that, Ashiya seems to pause and consider something. Then, his cheeks flush red and he very quickly says, "Absolutely not! They're definitely dreams!! Dreams that are definitely not caused willingly by my subcon- aack!"

And Ashiya, who'd be reaching behind himself all of this time, loses balance and falls off his chair.

"Ashiya??"

"Owww."

"Are you okay?"

"I can't feel my face."

"Y-you can't feel your face after falling on your back?"

"F-Fuzz...on my face..."

A heavy sigh. "What are you doing?"

And Ashiya freezes up again.

"Abenon~! You came to get Ashiyan?"

"Yeah. Is he alive? I'll drag him to the Nurse's Office if he isn't."

"I'm alive!! Geez." Ashiya shoots up like a beanstalk and subsequently stumbles again, holding out his arms in front of him, "Whoa!"

"Be careful!" Abeno barks at him, "And quit fooling around and get over here!"

"O-okay!"

Ashiya dashes towards the door, giving Fushimi and Saga an awkward two-armed wave.

Kind of odd.

Almost as if he were holding something.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Ashiya had never related more to the expression 'Out of the Frying Pan, Into the Fire' more than he had now.

Abeno was still staring at him, even as the Mononokean briefed them on what he had to do today, even as he vacantly pet and apologized to Fuzzy for almost dropping him so many times in class.

And he was trying very hard to act normal, honestly he was. But then, it was hard to do that when he could barely meet Abeno's eyes. It made for awkward greetings and an awkward atmosphere in general.

Is everything alright? The Mononokean asks with an air of concern and that seems to kickstart Ashiya's brain back into gear.

"Yes?!" Too loud, oops.

" I-I mean." Ashiya coughs and avoids the line of Abeno's glare, "I mean, yes. Everything's fine."

Are you sure, Hanae?

"Yeah. I'm fine!" He tries a smile.

"...Hm."

...Hm?

......

.....Hmm???? What was that supposed to mean? Ashiya looks back quickly over to Abeno, and he's the one who's averting his gaze, thinking about something.

"Anyway, we should get going-"

"Ashiya."

"Yes?!" Again, whoops.

"Before we go anywhere, we need to talk."

Silence. Ashiya stares at him for a long while, mouth gaping like a fish.

Finally he manages, "Am I fired?!"

"Ha?!"

"A-are we d-discussing my cause of termination?!?"

"...Why are you speaking so formally all of a sudden."

"I always talk like this!"

"Whatever, just get out!"

"D-don't push me!!"

My oh my. ( ‾́ ◡‾́ )

He manages to read that off the Mononokean's scroll before Abeno kicks him towards the nijiriguchi, and he crawls through it just fast enough before Abeno does the same.

"Ow! Abeno-san?"

"What exactly is wrong with you?"

This is when his heart kicks into overdrive. Ashiya can already feel his face heating up.

"N...what is that supposed to mean?" Ashiya's about to deny it immediately, but in a rare moment of reflection, he thinks that saying no so quickly would make Abeno suspicious.

...If he wasn't suspicious already. Abeno's still staring at him with a scowl, though really that was more of his default expressio. In fact, it was usually why it was hard to tell sometimes what exactly was bothering him, despite being so clearly irritated.

"Why is your default expression so terrifying?!"

And he said that out loud.

"What did you say?!"

"I-I mean, nothing's wrong with me!!"

"And I'm supposed to believe that?!" Abeno retorts. He sounds actually angry now.

Ashiya flinches at that and he looks away.

"See, this is what I'm talking about." He thinks he hears Abeno say that.

"Eh?"

"Nothing. Whatever it is you're dealing with, just make sure it doesn't interfere with work."

"...Okay."

....

....Like he was able to just let it go like that.

"Abeno-san?"

"Hmm?"

"That...uh. Remember that time that we were at the Legislator's party?"

"Yeah? So what?"

"That...did I..." Ashiya falters again, under the weight of that gaze.

It made him remember.

Remember certain dreams.

"D-Did I do something?"

Abeno blinks, "Something?"

"...Never mind. I didn't, huh." Ashiya sighs, "That's a relief."

"Exactly what kind of thing are you talking about?"

"Nothing. I'll, uh, go grab Fuzzy."

"Right."

And Ashiya scrabbles back through the nijiriguchi, Abeno sighs and turns away.

"Something, huh."

The wall behind his back and a hand pressed over his own.

The closest anyone had been to him...in such a long time.

"..."

Impudent fingers over his shoulders, barely focused eyes. The scent of sake on his breath.

And still, that dumb grin.

Even before he feels those lips on his.

"Something...huh."

Something restless in his heart since that time.

Abeno tries not to think about it.

"What a convenient word that is."

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Liked this? You can always head over here to request some more drabbles!

Or you can check the taglist/FAQ to see what I’ve written before [and what I currently write!]

And if you wanna show some support, you can head over to my ko-fi page!

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[mrsmamasan-blog]

Three weeks ago I become a mom. Here is Evelynn's birthstory: Jan 2nd at 4pm I have a catheter balloon (or rather, two) inserted into my cervix to dilate and draw it forward as I was making no progress, was very posterior, and we feared that my fibroid would prevent any natural progress. So my doc suggested we try the balloon to see if we could kickstart something. I was nervous about getting it out in place, but it was pretty much painless, making me optimistic about being able.to handle the contractions it was supposed to cause. Whoops. 7pm, husband and I go to dinner and have to get boxes to take out halfway through because I am so uncomfortable. I want a bath and to lay down. I'm being hit with what feels like sporadic period cramps, only they get real sharp and come on hard and fast. Nothing regular so I shrug and assume it's the catheter doing some work. We go home. 10pm, I wake husband from dead sleep because I am no longer 'uncomfortable'. I hurt. Not the worst pain I've ever felt or anything, but like intense diarrhea cramps in my belly that are now 'regular'. I'm more excited than in pain but we have a 45min drive to the hospital so I don't want to risk it. I refused to have my baby in town or on the side of the highway, so a quick call to St Luke's l&d and we were on our way. Poor husband. I warned him this drive was going to be uncomfortable for us both. But I didn't realize how bad. I can't sit still, the pain is increasing and coming in waves that are more regular. I'm snappish and miserable. Husband is nervous and trying to keep me from biting his head off. He mostly succeeds by being his goofy self. I love him. Once at the hospital we are checked into triage and I am offered a shot of morphine to take the edge off the pain. I take it, all my lofty ideals about not needing drugs going to the wayside. Oh well. It helped. A lot. I had the catheter removed and when it came out my water broke. The contractions however, were weak and my cervix was struggling to dilate further because of the fibroid. Bring on the pictocin. I was not willing to go straight to c section. I'm glad I didn't. But I was optimistic under the pictocin because it was started while I was still under the effects of the morphine shot. Ha! That was short lived. My new plan was to use nitrous gas to manage the pain until I was 6 or 7 cm dilated and then get an epidural. I didn't want it sooner because of the risk of it wearing off before active pushing is so much higher. I wanted to wait so I would be sure to have it be effective for the hardest part. Whoops. Kidding. Sort of. I'm glad I decided to wait as long as I could, but it turned out to be less by choice and more by circumstance. When the morphine wore off, the pictocin was still not wide open, it was moderately high and baby was tolerating everything just fine. When the nitrous came I was beginning to squirm and cry out again with the pain of the contractions which were coming every three mins for a minute at a time. Hard. I greedily sucked on the mask, waiting for even the barest hint of a fog in my brain... Nothing. No pain relief, no drug effect on my brain, no help in breathing either as the stupid mask vibrated against my body and cheeks every time I gasped. After twenty mins of trying to get some sort of effect, I yanked it off and asked them to take it away and shoot me with some fentanyl. The nurse warned "it lasts maybe 20mins and you can only have a dose every 2hrs" I guess I still was fighting through the contractions because I accepted that instead of going to the epidural. Which was a mistake. I should have requested to be checked at least. But I didn't. I thought that I could use 20mins of relief to power through two hours before getting g the epidural. Whoops. The fentanyl lasted maybe ten mins. It took the barest edge off of my contractions. The pictocin at this point was wide open. Within an hour, my co tractions were coming every minute and lasting almost a whole minute. And they were coupled. Meaning it would start to fade then jump right back up, looking like Batman's mask silhouette on the Toco screen. I was in hell. It hurt so bad. I was crying and screaming. Your typical horror story worst case mental image of pregnant woman in labor... And I wasn't even pushing! Later I was told that pictocin contractions are so much worse, which was a nice sop to my wounded dignity. But I have no shame in telling you that it was the worst two hours of my life, or rather, it was the hardest two hours of my life. It seemed never to end. And just when you think that you can't take it anymore, that it can't possibly get any harder... It keeps going. There is no rest or relief. And no time to catch your breath. Poor nurses kept telling me to breath. Unfortunately, between the crying and the mask vibrating on my face earlier, my nose was closed for business. All I could do was gasp like a fish and yell. My husband was nearly pulling his hair out, but wisely saying nothing. He just held my hand and did whatever the nurses told him to do. I was in my own world at the time, just trying to survive from pain peak to pain peak. I begged for the epidural. She checked me, I was six, maybe seven cm. Yay me. I didn't care, I could've been three cm and I would have begged. Oddly though, I didn't have any faith that it would work. In my mind it was just the next inevitable step to the c section I had hoped to avoid but was now thinking about fondly. They hooked up a bag of fluids and worked to drain it into me as quick as possible (you have to have drained half of it before the anesthesiologist will see you) once he came in though, he got set up in record time. Then the horror. "You have to sit up and bend over the pillow to round your back to me. I am going to work as fast as I can, but you can not move." I was so afraid. The contractions never ended only lessened for what felt like a few seconds before pounding me again. And I couldn't stay still through them. I was going to fuck this up. But he told me "this Will help you. You will get relief. But you can not move. Under any circumstances. The procedure might hurt, the contractions may hit, but stay absolutely still." Game on. I didn't feel the needle or anything. I just stared intently at the Toco screen the entire time. Waiting. But it was over before the next crest. And by the fifth, I was feeling cool medication running down my spine. Praise the epidural. A thousand blessings to whomever invented that brilliant procedure. It was glorious. I felt nothing but mild pressure and I could still move my legs! It was the most perfect epidural ever. They stuck a peanut shaped ball between my knees to help my hips do something, and turned me from side to side e edy fifteen mins. I slept. Jan 3rd at 1925 I woke up and said to my nurse and husband "something feels different, I think it's time to push". Because I had control over my legs still, the nurse let me squat and push for most of the time I was pushing. They broke down the bed and I grabbed that bar and bore down with every contraction. It wasn't painful, the epidural was on point. The pressure was building and it was exhausting work. But not painful. Until the end. It does burn. I felt it burning near my butt and my upper bits. I said to my husband "my clit is on fire" to which he just looked at me like I was crazy. He was preoccupied with looking at the head of hair that was crowning through my folds. They brought a mirror so I could see her head of hair and I had them take it down. It just discouraged me to push so hard and see progress then see her head slink back a ways. I didn't want to touch her head either. I was afraid to take my hands off of the bar and lose more progress, "I want to hold her, not touch her head". 9:03pm on Jan 3rd, a first and second degree tear, an "oh my god babe, she's coming!" From my husband, and my doctor yelling to him "get pictures!" She was here. She was perfect (though at first she looked like a mini Voldemort) She is perfect :)