#corner of ANY fricking room ANY ROOM will do because I love them so much and they're!!!! THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS ALEX ALEX THEY ARE---!!!!!!!!!

[mythvoiced]

@theimpalpable​ | “ don’t leave, please. ” (Wilder to Kaeden UwU) two word starters

---

Kaeden is used to being the strong one because he doesn’t allow weakness to slip into even the smallest of spaces between the sentiments he regurgitates over and over again into his body language.

This tends to imply they’re stronger than their given counterpart, but for as long as they’ve known Wilder, they’ve always assumed him to be as strong as Kaeden, if not stronger, considering he walks this earth with genuine strength and kindness, while most of what Kaeden offers to the table are desperate attempts on her part to not be forced to face what they work so hard to suppress.

Wilder can look to the world and recognise its natural beauty in a way gentle enough to be worthy of the sights offer. He forgives people when they’re rude to him at the bookstore, he has infinite patience for Kaeden and their antics and seems genuinely fond of whatever it is that Kaeden offers at any given moment, even if that’s usually... nonsensical at best and downright stupid at worst.

Wilder emits light, kind and warm and all-encompassing, he’s what angels fight for in humanity, he’s what parents call their pride and joy, he’s someone you worry befriending because how can you even come close to being half as good, all while he, unwittingly or less so, makes sure you never contrast or compare, because he’s humble to the point where it’s Kaeden wonder more than once if she should just come up with a magnitude of strategies on how to convince him of his genuine superiority over some folks the reaper has met.

But he wouldn’t. Wouldn’t accept that, wouldn’t welcome it, would perhaps dislike it enough for it to create a wedge between them.

He wouldn’t because that’s not who Wilder is.

And all of this had made the reaper wrongly assume that Wilder simply accepted the world for what it was, trudged on with a sense of self-respect sturdy enough to not have him crumble beneath impatient commentary or the vast unpredictability of the universe.

He’d assumed that Wilder could handle it all.

And he’d forgotten how rarely strong people choose to be strong. He’d forgotten that being strong is bravery in the force, in the face of one’s weaknesses.

He’s forgotten the best lessons he’s ever learned, and the fact that Wilder taught them plenty of them during their first meeting.

They’re halfway through the door of Wilder’s bedroom - that had been a first, but the circumstances had kind of made it difficult to focus too much on all the aggressively supportive commentaries Kaeden had at the ready, statements about the boy’s space, the thrill of moving within it - when Wilder calls them back.

Kaeden stands with their hand on the handle for the seconds it takes for those thoughts to swim through his head, mere seconds before her back connects with the space in Wilder’s bed not occupied, far enough to not accidentally touch, but close enough to state their permanency.

Hands on their chest, joined, relaxed, Kaeden turns their head and stares straight into Wilder’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, tell me everything and don’t hold back.”

[rodeoxqueen]

Can you do more head cannons of The DMC boys taking care of their baby girl???

Howdy,

I do not think I’ve written headcanons of Dante, Vergil, Nero, and V with a baby daughter? Well, no time like the present.��

Enjoy, 

Rodeo 

Dante 

“Baby. Baby girl. Baaaaaby!” Dante calls as his daughter, white-haired and arms covered in baby fat, gurgles with joy. 

Literally the love of his life. The babe looks just like him, with white hair and blue eyes. 

Lady and Trish adore the baby girl and do not trust him to dress their niece cutely. So they spend all his money buying the cutest little shoes and dresses. The baby fever is so bad for them. 

Dante is so protective of his little demon child. He duct tapes all the sharp corners in his shop. It’s Hello-Kitty and red duct tape. It’s such an eye-sore but he’s so proud of himself. 

He doesn’t use her crib. Every night, his daughter cries when he puts her in the crib. He ends up taking her to his bed, her little body resting on his chest, moving to the rising and falling of his form. 

They eat meals together, both covered in bits of food. Messy eaters, the two of them. Dante always seems to eat incredibly leaned back and his daughter copies him, leaning to the back of the baby seat with her little feet crossed.

 She loves sundaes and slaps the table when she can’t get any. Dante can’t resist giving her the strawberries to gnaw on. 

“Shithead! You’re going to give her cavities!” 

“Nero, she doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Sometimes they just nod at each other.

“Hey, boss lady.” 

“Dah.” 

“Very nice.” 

He gets a tactical baby carrier, much to everyone’s disgust. 

His little baby girl is often found latched onto his leg, cooing and refusing to leave from her father’s proximity. 

Vergil tries to hold her and she cries immediately. It’s because Vergil looks like a very serious Dante and that doesn’t sit right with her. 

The twins tried dressing the same and brushing their hair the same style to see what she would do. She keeps pointing to the other and saying ��da-da” and grabbing at the other twin. Eventually, she starts fussing. 

Well actually, demon children can detect parental pheromones. She likely figures out who is who very soon and will not unlatch from her demon daddy. 

“She’s got quite a grip,” Vergil comments as blood soaks into Dante’s shirt where her hands clung to him.  

“Her claws came in early.” His brother grunts. His hands aren’t even on her, she is completely supporting herself with her little devil hands. 

Dante will walk out of the house with his hair done like his child’s. The last thing a demon sees is the merciless face of Hello Kitty on a barrette on Dante’s head. It’s quite frankly scarier than anything else. 

See Exhibit C-(credited to @aztarion)

Vergil 

“This is my daughter. If anything happens to her, I will kill Dante and everyone else in this room and then I will kill Dante again.” 

“Vergil what.” 

This man does not use babytalk. He talks to her in complete sentences with words Dante doesn’t even know, his child babbling in return. 

“Child, I grow quite jaded by this tirade. Either participate in nap time or stay put,  I shall not heed your intentions to stay up.” 

“Abababa!” 

“I will not tolerate your churlishness.” 

He does his best to dress her in blue. They match all the time. 

He isn’t great with doing hair that isn’t his. His daughter has all her hair swept back like her old man. She copies him, slapping her forehead and swiping her stray strands of hair back. He smirks at her likeness. 

Vergil had to be taught how to change a diaper by Nero. 

No baby carrier, he will hold her to his waist at all times and she chews on the handle of the Yamato. He just lets her. 

He doesn’t buy her toys, everyone else does.

“Child, you must stop collecting tributary from your relatives.” 

“Bababababa.” 

Vergil does not trust those two women with his child. However, he finds his daughter points to Trish and makes grabbing motions. Trish coos at her in her slender arms and laughs when she chews her hair, his daughter gripping Lady’s finger in her other hand. Vergil stops, and realizes-

This is the closest he will ever see his mother hold his child. He finds he does not mind it. 

Vergil’s daughter is protected by his doppelganger, who moves stuff out of her crawling path and ensures she doesn’t bump her little head. 

He also does not use the crib. But he tried. His baby daughter cried and reached for him, her little face scrunched up with sadness. 

“It is for your own good. You must be independent. The world is a hard place, sleeping alone is the least you can do.” 

The baby continues to cry and Vergil relents, eyes soft as he takes her back. He holds her the entire night. 

“Perhaps just this once, my little lamb.” 

All grown up, his daughter will find her baby photos in a neat scrapbook, all images were taken by Dante of Vergil holding her every night. 

Nero 

Youngest dad here, quite frankly the most competent. 

He grew up taking care of other kids, no matter how punk rock he is, his instincts to take care of kids shine through. 

She has a black pacifier that’s shaped like a skull. 

He is so clingy to this little girl, knowing how he grew up with no parents. 

His little girl is always with him. If not, she’s with Kyrie. She has to be convinced to go play with other children. 

“Hey, can an uncle hold his niece-” 

“Frick off, I’m her dad.” 

“Censoring yourself, are we?” 

He gives up swearing near her. That swear jar paid for a new school building next to the orphanage. 

Nero melts when his little girl scratches her nose the way he always does. Some things are just genetic. 

His little girl has his temper. She kicks and screams and slaps him when he doesn’t give her what she wants, although she is an angel in general. 

His kid is the first one to fully trigger, a very angry and blue one-year-old with horns and astral wings, literally bursting with demonic energy and snarling. Nero sheds a tear in pride after she slashes the side of his face. A bag of frozen peas in hand, he looks at her with joy. 

“She’s going to be so kick-butt. Just like me, huh?” 

His daughter is tolerant of her grandfather. In the arms of Vergil, she glares back at him. 

“She will be a very strong Sparda,” Vergil comments as she rips a button off his jacket. 

Nero is so soft with this baby girl. He’ll scream at Dante and his father seven ways till Sunday but coo in baby talk with her. 

He sings her to bed the classics. 

“But I’m a creep, I am a weirdo. I don’t belong here…..” Nero rocks his daughter side to side as she softly breathes. 

“N-Nero?” Kyrie asks from the doorway. He casts her a glance. 

“It’s Radiohead.” He says before returning to his loving mumbles. Kyrie sighs. 

V 

“Oh my darling. Look at you, little star.” He beams as he taps her little nose. Her hair is white just like his when Nightmare is unbound. 

He adores her, this little crawling bundle of joy. 

Cane in one hand, he holds his child in the other. 

“Wow V, human babies sure are squishy looking gremlins.” 

“Griffon-” 

“In a good way!” 

The two other familiars are also dedicated to his daughter. Shadow likes to clean her with her tongue, causing her hair to stick up in all directions. 

Griffon collects things that are shiny and gifts them to her little fat baby hands. 

Unfortunately, babies are very grabby little people. Griffon caused a power outage one time because the little starling pulled his tail feathers out in curiosity. 

Of course, V reads to his child his poetry. It’s the only way she can be put to sleep.

She fusses and V simply holds her up and asks her what the matter is. She babbles and squirms and V does his best to understand baby talk. 

He lets people hold her, although he is nearly inches away to retrieve her in case she is displeased.

Dante is the favorite uncle and she loves to play peek-a-boo with him.

V nearly keels over one day when she managed to absorb Shadow, soft baby skin decorated by black spider lilies. She returns Shadow in the form of a kitten although the big cat quickly turns back into a grown panther.

She tried it with Griffon. Yes, of course he pops out again a swearing baby chicken.

“My dear, what on earth?”

“Da-da!”

She pulls on V’s hair, threading her fingers through the midnight strands. She also puts her hand on his gently-sloping nose. He doesn’t mind it, although her fingers can be sticky. 

He keeps a little bell on his cane to waggle over her head when she is bored. She loves it and reaches her little hands to the sound. She likes to take his rings and clink them together. 

Sometimes, he gives up and just eats the same baby food she does. 

He’s a very patient father, although she can easily exhaust him with all the demands. 

“The queen reigns over all.” V muses as she throws a tantrum. 

He has a day-to-day journal of her development, full of pressed flowers and inked poetry of his Little Wanderer. 

[kaylathekittykat225]

Carnival Ride of Horror // Steve Harrington x Reader

Carnival of Horror // SH

Warning/s: Cursing, laughing at inappropriate times, (very minimal) mentions/implications of abuse/stalking (just wanna warn, its super small but just in case!)

Word Count: 3.5k

Hey guys! It’s been a bit since I’ve written, lemme tell you, life has been kinda crappy and its just a little less crappy now! So I decided to start pecking at the keyboard again and this is what came of it! This lovely person requsted this work and I just got around to starting to really write because I had a free week. Anywhoodles, it’s good to write something again and I hope yall enjoy it!

Again thank you for this idea @seraphiiii

omg i came across your post about writing ideas in my feed and got so excited to see both steve harrington and young justice in the tags lmao. but i think a steve harrington x reader where reader and him go to an amusement park and reader is terrified of the rides so he’s like comforting her throughout them and encouraging her but also laughing (in a good natured way obvi) about how scared she is and stuff? i think that would be so cute!!

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

-----

“Stevie, when we agreed to have a date night away from the kids, I didn't think we would be going into a mass of more kids.” As he pulled the keys out, you stared at the bright light shining machinery that had been set in the middle of a field outside the city. The annual summer fair had finally made its way to Hawkins, and it had left a buzz in the air as everyone planned when they would go, talked about what rides had come this year, who their ride buddy would be; it had been all the kids had been talking about for weeks. They put a day together the coming weekend to go as a group and they planned to drag Steve and you along on the off chance that they needed an “adult” to allow them on the rides.

Funny how they assumed either Steve or you knew how to adult.

“Cause I thought it would be a nice change from us just watching movies or having dinner.”

“Oh, so dino nuggets are no longer date-worthy for you.” Steve almost took you seriously, but he saw the grin that has graced your lips at your own comment. He relaxed a little knowing that you weren’t upset with his idea for date night, but he had always wanted to kiss someone at the top of a Ferris Wheel, and he would do anything to get you to the top of the rotating ride.

“So, you’re not mad that I chose here for tonight?” You shook your head and pulled at the door handle separating the two of you from the outside life.

“Of course not Stevie, I just thought it was an interesting choice.” The smile you chose to have was one that hopefully convinced him that you were okay with where the pair of you were going, even if you weren’t happy with the choice.

You can be happy with the idea of going to a carnival as long as you don’t go on-”Cool, so what ride do you want to do first?”

“Shit.” The world slipped out before you could stop yourself as Steve finished paying for your tickets and asked what you had said. “Nothing just kicked myself. Um…” You looked around frantically for something to do that wasn’t flashing brightly and spinning faster than the legal highway speed. “Let’s go over there!”

Steve followed your hand as he saw you point towards the stands of games that were rigged and way too fricking expensive, but he would do it for you. “Alright, starting out with some games I see, I like it.”

The two of you ran through a few of the games, most of them where Steve got way too into it and you had to step between them as he tried screaming that he deserved that stuffed bear/pony/cat/fish, because he almost had it every single time. He did beat out the basketball one, one of the last ones the two of you did on that strip, bolstering his confidence just enough to get him into a cheery enough mood.

“Alright! We played some games, and let the crazies test out the rides so I’m pretty sure they won’t break down on us. Which one should we do first? They got a drop tower, or how about the pit viper swings? Or, or, or how about we…” The night had been going enjoyable up until Steve turned to the rides you had managed to distract him from and pointed at the glowing and fast-moving monsters.

“How about we do the haunted walk over there?” Steve followed your pointing finger with a quizzical look, he hadn’t really taken note of the scary attraction before, never thought to really look to it with everything else going on. “I bet it won’t even be scary to us after everything we’ve been through right ha.”

You took off with a dry laugh without waiting for a response from him; his cries were head behind you, but the haunted house looked better than anything else around you. “Y/N.” He called you again, but you walked faster. By the time you got to the stairs leading into the building, you were practically running up them to get into the dark house with smoke billowing out of it.

“Y/N!” Your name was the last thing you heard before diving through the door and physically bumping into one of the scarers dressed as a zombie. He seemed nice, breaking character enough to ask if you were okay before you had already turned the corner and left him behind too.

Twisting and turning, you didn’t pay much mind to the screaming witches, zombies, skeletons, or anything that happened all around you; over the music and screaming, you could vaguely hear your name, giving you an indication that Steve followed you.

Not too far in, you found a quieter corner with only a couple cobwebs around it where you quickly ducked back into and tried pressing yourself into it deeper, hoping to watch Steve walk right by you.

Why the hell were you running from your boyfriend? You gained a sense of logic for a second where you paused. Why were you running? This was super childish of you and really had no reason. All Steve wanted to do was go on a few rides and you were being selfish and completely ruining what was going to be one of the few evenings you didn’t have to babysit the kids.

As the guilt started to swirl with your desire to not be found, you didn’t notice as the Frankenstein in the room had taken notice of you hiding in the corner and started to tromp over to you. “Hey, miss, you can’t be hiding in here, you gotta keep moving.”

“I’ll be out in a second, sir, let me just-” “You can’t be here-” “If you give me a second, I will leave as soon as I can-” “Miss you have to leave-” “Give me one dan minute-” “Y/N!”

Among all the screaming the Frankenstein and you had been doing was your name being called by a third and new voice along with a hand clasping onto your shoulder. Looking to the hand, you saw the unmistakable outline of the man you were hiding from. “There you are babe, why were you running off.” Just looking at the Frankenstein’s demeanor, you could tell he went into defense mode suddenly.

“Were you hiding from him miss? Are you okay? Do you feel safe?” The painted man moved to step between you and Steve in an attempt to separate you two.

“Whoa, whoa buddy, back off. She’s my girlfriend, chill out.” Steve tried stepping around the man o little success.

“Oh, your girlfriend? And she’s running from you? I don’t think this is looking very good for you, buddy.” The two were shooting back and forth at each other, getting chest to chest, and starting to cause a larger disturbance that started o be heard over the music and background scream noises. More workers it looked like started to slip into the room and try to get the two men to quiet down, going so far as to begin threats of throwing them out of the haunted house.

You were pulled away from the situation before being pushed away and into the next room, looking like it was on its way to the exit in the next two or three rooms: your destination.

-----

“Y/N?” His voice finally chirped up next to you as Steve took a seat next to you on the grass at the edge of the carnival. “You okay?” When he saw you sitting over here, he had quickly jogged over and took her in as he did so: sitting with her face pressed into her knees and arms wrapped tightly around her legs as she kept herself in as tight of a ball as possible.

You didn’t respond at first, only moving your head to look up at your boyfriend, the person you have embarrassed tonight and most definitely pissed off with your childish antics tonight. “I’m sorry.”

“Whoa what do you have to apologize for? I’ve been worried about you and wanted to make sure that you are okay.” His hand found its way to your back and began rubbing circles into your shoulder blade.

“I was really childish today and you didn’t deserve it, all because I was scared of the stupid rides.” Your words may have been mumbles, but he heard every word clearly.

“Hold on. Babe, did you say you were scared of the rides?” Your small and timid nod was enough for him to understand. “Why didn’t you tell me? I never would have brought you here if I knew that!”

Swallowing the thick feeling in your throat, you looked up at him and saw the disappointment and hurt in his face and that hurt. “Because you were so excited about it, I thought I could get through it and do at least one or two with you. But as we got closer, I guess my nerves got the best of me and I just...ran. Like a stupid child.”

“Hey, hey, hey, no.” Steve quickly shuffled to kneel in front of you and grabbed your hands, holding them in his own and your legs fell down to where you were now criss cross apple sauce. “I’m not gonna force you to do any of these rides if you don’t wanna. If you want to just go home, we can make this a movie night if that works better for you.”

“No, Stevie,” His mouth quirked up at this name. “You already bought the tickets; I don’t want you to waste the money you earned because I’m a scaredy cat.”

Steve took a second to think, racking his brain on how to salvage what has been an eventful evening. “How about…” He paused again and just stared at you with you staring back at him, waiting to hear what he wanted to say. “You can say no, how about we try a few rides, to try and get you on some. If you don’t like riding after one, we can go home, and you can at least say you did it.”

Mulling this idea over in your head, your eyes shifted from where your boyfriend sat in front of you to the bright and joyous scream filled rides were. “I suppose they don’t all look so bad.” You murmured to him, staring particularly at the giant Ferris Wheel that turned, a small memory from early on in your relationship popping into your head. Steve had mentioned a few times that his dream date would be to take a girl up on a Ferris Wheel and cuddle her and kiss her when they got to the top.

“Okay, we can try a few.” Though shaky, your voice was a little stronger this time and you gave Steve a small smile.

“You sure?” A nod. “Okay, I’ll let you choose which one we go on, okay?” Another nod.

Together, the two of you stood to your feet and approached the hustle and bustle of the carnival grounds again. “What did that Frankenstein do to you? I hope he didn’t get you in trouble or anything.” You asked as you laced your hand with Steve while the other went to hold onto his arm, squeezing it slightly as you got closer to the machines and your stomach growing heavy again.

“Oh him, he didn’t do much, just tried scaring me when he though I was some creep chasing you.” He chuckled at the short story, glancing over to you as you took in the carnival for really the first time, looking for something that didn’t freak you out. “How about we start with those spinning pods over there? All they do is spin around and if you want it to, we can make it spin on the inside too.”

Following his finger, you saw what he was referring to as it did spin around, the four small egg things with windows in them were spinning on the main machinery but also appeared to be spinning on their own. As you got closer and apparently joined the line, you could see inside one of them a group of middle school boys cackling as they pulled on the weird center disk that kinda looked like a pizza pan. “Yeah, we can give it a try.” The shakiness in your voice had come back and your grip on Steve tightened.

“Hey, you got this I’ll be right here with ya.” He returned the squeeze to your hand and fishes through his pocket for two tickets to hand over at the entrance. “Up ya go.” He mutters as he helps you up the three stairs leading into the egg ride thing you were entering before he stepped in behind you and took his place next to you. You were already holding a death grip on the center console when the door was shut, and Steve sat next to you. “You know what this is?” He asked gesturing to the disk you were holding onto with the vice grip.

“Something for me to hold onto?” You shocked yourself with how violently your voice was shaking as you heard something start to rumble around you. “Oh, shit its moving.” Steve let a quick chuckle out before he stopped himself and tried explaining the center console would cause the pod thing to spin. “Fuck no! Don’t you dare make this thing spin.” Bloody murder was not even near definitive enough of how much you were screaming.

“Babe, babe calm down, it’s fine! I promise, ha!” In comparison to your screaming, Steve seemed to be having the time of his life as he laughed; at least he wasn’t making the ride spin. “Babe, babe, babe, I’m so sorry I’m laughing, I promise I didn’t mean to, but you were screaming so much! And it was hilarious!” Steve held onto his sides as he nearly fell out of the pod and waited for you to follow his laughing self. When you didn’t step out, he turned back around and saw you still had your hands clenched very tightly to the metal plate, your eyes wide and your lips pursed together. “Sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad about the rides, do you wanna go home?”

Hearing him soften up got you to finally look at him and slowly let go of the wheel. “N-n-no. I’m…” You paused to catch your breath and steady your voice. “I’m good, I just don’t know if I can do any more of these kinds of things.” Taking his hand, you pulled yourself up and stepped out from the ride and have yourself a few seconds to remember how to use your legs.

“You okay?” You nodded at him and gave a shaky, but okay smile. “You sure you wanna do another one? Cause we can go-”

“No, no, I can do…” The carnival really did have more rides than just ones that wanted to make you die, but none that really made you want to jump on them. “Can we do the carousel? I know I can do that one at least, my mom took me on them enough as a kid to be desensitized to those ones.” Steve looked over and saw the carousel that was filled predominately by smaller children, but if you wanted to do this and it was because he bought the tickets, he couldn’t make her do something else.

“If that’s what you wanna do, then we can do the carousel all night long, babe.” You nodded at him and followed him as he took your hand and the two began the walk to the carousel.

The carousel ride was much less curse filled, thankfully. You and Steve had found a pair of horses sitting side by side and the two of you quickly claimed them. Like you had said, you did get to enjoy this ride due to having done it before and you were able to just chat between the two of you, talking about how the kids were cute, how excited you were to take the kids to the park and not have to rides. It was a fine ride, definitely better than the last one.

“You ready to go home, babe?” Steve turned to you with a smile on his face. Getting you to ride two of the rides was honestly enough for him, plus, he knew Dustin would ride all of them with him later, with you waiting at the end for him.

You were about to agree and leave this eventful evening behind you, but you saw what Steve was standing near and bit your lip. Should you do it? Could you do it? “Actually, I wanna do one more.” He gave a quick quirk of his head before he followed your eyeline and turned around.

“What? Babe, we don’t have to do that, you have been through enough today and you were great, you don’t have to prove anything.”

“But...you have been wanting to do it, you told me about it one time.” You responded a little shyly as you confessed that you were doing it back of what he told you that one time. “I just...I really want you to be able to do it.”

“You...you remembered?” Steve was kind of shocked that you remembered him mentioning it, he had told that to girls in the past, but none of them really went out of their way to think about it, hell, even to remember it. “Are you su-”

“Steve, yes, I wanna do it with you.” The grin on his face was immaculate and contagious as one grew on your face as he quickly took this well and pulled you towards the line to the Ferris Wheel and dug around in his pockets for another round of tickets.

As it went around, you felt your stomach grow heavy again when you finally saw how high it got and had to calm yourself down without causing another scene. “Come on, babe, looks like ours is up.” He gently tugged on your hand and pulled you into the seat next to him before the handlebar was lowered and locked in front of you. “And here we go!”

The squeak that left your mouth was nothing but surprise and terror as you clung onto the bar for your life, your knuckles turning white with the sheer force you were holding on. “It’s really stupid you know that the only thing holding us back from falling to our death is this small bar and it’s really stupid because was if I was reall-holy shit this is really tall!” You finally removed your hands from the bar and moved to press yourself in Steve.

You could feel him trying to stop himself from giggling as he moved his arm to wrap it around you. “You can laugh you know; I really don’t care. I’m the coward of an almost twenty-year-old who’s scared of a carnival.” A chuckle did come through as the ride kept rotating and you slowly moved closer to the bottom.

“I’m not laughing at you, babe, but the noises you are making are fricking hilarious.” His voice still held the chuckle as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and you responded with another squeak of shock as you started rising again.

Making it to the top again, you were waiting for it to hit its peak and for the relief of lowering the cart to begin, but instead there was a shudder before the ride stopped. “What’s going on, what’s going on, why are we stopped? Oh god we are about to die, fuck, shit, I don’t wanna die.”

“Babe, calm down, someone below us is getting off so they had to stop the ride for a bit. Remember when we had to get on? Same thing probably happened to someone else.” You nodded your head and just stared ahead to the tops of the trees you never thought you would have seen.

“It’s...it’s not too bad up here.” You finally mutter after a few beats of silence and getting your bearings. “I wouldn’t want to stay up here, but it does look nice.” Steve hummed in agreement and pulled you a little closer. “Hey Stevie?”

“Hmm?” He responded looking down at you.

“Thanks, tonight was fun.”

His face broke out into a grin again at your thanks. “Of course, thanks for giving a few of these rides a chance.” Smiling up at him, you sat a little straighter and caught his lips with your own, the two of you humming to the other that you were happy with your evening.

Though it was not as long as Steve would have wanted to stay in that moment with you (the ride started again and you broke away with another shriek), but he wouldn’t have traded that moment for anything else in his life.

[marvelsbetch]

Peter Parker’s field trip part 3

-Peter's POV-

After lunch Owen grouped us all

back together, including Wade, and took us around more labs. There was nothing particularly special about any of them until the corridor we were walking down became all too familiar. We stopped infront of a door to a lab, the door to my lab. Oh God.

"Now, for those of you who don't know and haven't guessed it yet, your class mate Peter works here. This is his lab and I was wondering if he would allow us to see what's inside. Peter?" Owen announced looking directly at me.

"Fine but you have to swear not to touch anything and not discuss anything you see with others." I warned them as I swiped my card and held the door open to all of them.

They all filled in and started looking around cautiously and with amazement. Many people noticed the prototype suits on mannequins at the back of the room. I was helping Dad, Pops, Bucky and Wanda with new designs for suits as well as trying to improve mine. It's been a challenge but we're making steady progress.

"Peter, Mr Stark has told me to ask you to open your connecting doors." F.R.I.D.A.Ys voice rang out across the room.

"Oh dear lord." I sighed and moved to open one of the other doors in the room that connected mine and Dads lab.

There was also a door connecting to a storage closet filled with various building parts. The other doors lead to a bathroom, Pops' art room, The training room and a testing room. There was lots of doors but thankfully I labelled them all.

"What do y-" I started but cut myself off when I opened the door and saw the guardians stood in Dad's lab. Frick!

"Mini Peter!" Drax yelled pulling me into a very tight hug. What's with the bone crushing hugs today?

"What're you all doing here?" I asked pushing Drax away from me.

"Can't we visit our favourite earthling without a reason?" Peter asked putting his arm around me.

"You sound like Thor." I told him shrugging his arm off.

"Don't insult me like that." Peter told me jokingly serious.

"How come I don't get any love?" Wade asked appearing behind me.

"Hey! What am I here for?" I asked him trying to sound offended.

"Beside you." He said putting an arm around my waist and resting his head on mine.

"Hands off Wade." Dad warned with a scowl on his face glaring at my boyfriend.

"Alright Stark, alright." Wade said sarcastically and put his hands up before slowly backing away.

"Don't push me, I'm already letting you stay in my tower, and sleep in his room for that matter." Dad gestures to me with an angry look on his face.

"Moving on, why're there a bunch of gawping teenagers stood behind you?" Peter asked gesturing to my class.

"Well, this is my science class from school. They're gasping because no one believed me when I said I had an internship here but I've proven to have more than that." I explained taking Wade's hand in mine much to Dad's disappointment.

"Anyway, what're you doing next? When're these losers leaving?" Peter asked putting his arm around my shoulders.

"We're visiting the training rooms with Steve, Nat, Clint, Bucky, T,Challa, Wanda, Vision, Strange and Loki." Dad explained making me groan and put my head on Wade's shoulder in annoyance.

"And then they're staying the night and visiting Avengers Tower tomorrow." I told him from Wade's shoulder.

"Avengers Tower?" Drax asked confused.

"It's kind of like our mother ship. It's where we're briefed and de-briefed about our missions and meet up for various things. We used to use this tower but it's less used now." Dad explained.

"They still use it sometimes though. Say, for example, to embarrass me." I said sarcastically lifting my head up.

"Aww, come on Pete, don't you love seeing us all day?" Dad teased grabbing my cheek.

"Not when your soul purpose is to embarrass me infront of my class. Other times, I couldn't thing is anything better." I told him making him smirk.

"Come on then, let's go see everyone train." Dad said clapping his hands together and leading the group through one of my doors and directly into the training room.

"Ah, Midtown I presume. Welcome to the Avengers training room." Pops introduced gesturing to the room around us.

There was treadmills, weight lifts, cross trainers, workout bikes and much more. Over in an empty corner Strange, Wanda and Uncle Loki were practicing their magic where as every one else was doing normal physical training.

"So, who wants to fight an Avenger?" Aunt Nat asked looking across all the students in front of her. "You, with the stupid grin. Come up here." Nat instructed pointing to Flash. Oh dear lord.

Flash confidently made his way up to Nat and just stood there doing nothing. Nat showed him a proper fighting stance and told him to attack. The next few seconds was Nat pinning Flash to the mat before he could react.

"I wasn't ready." Flash breathed out from the floor.

"No one is. That's why she's good at what she does." Pops told him smirking at me. "Why don't you have a go?" He asked me.

"No I'm good. Do you want to?" I asked gesturing to the mat and Nat.

"Oh come on kid. Live a little." Pops coaxed with a smug grin on his face.

"Fine." I sighed detaching myself from Wade and standing in front of Nat. I got into a fighting stance and we started fighting.

After 10 minutes of back and forth between me and Nat I eventually pinned her to the mat to the astonishment to my class.

“Well Peter, good to know nothing's changed." Pops grinned passing me my water bottle and a granola bar.

"Thanks Pops." I said with out thinking.

“Right, now we're gonna teach you basic self defence. We'll split you into groups and go from there." Pops explained turning to my class when an alarm went off.

"Code Green! Natasha and Peter to Dr Banners lab please." F.R.I.D.A.Ys automated voice rang out.

Me and Natasha took off running as fast as we could to Bruce's lab and stopped in front of the door for a brief moment. We could hear crying? Slowly, we opened the door and found Hulk sat on the floor crying.

"Hulk?" I cautiously asked stepping forward.

"Spider Boy!" Hulk yelled pulling me into a tight hug. "Hulk miss his spider boy!" He cried.

"Okay big guy. Why were you crying?" Natasha asked placing her hand on his arm.

"Lonely. Bad Human kept me trapped." Hulk explained as more tears fell.

"Okay buddy, put me down and we can hang out with you for a bit. How does that sound?" I offered.

"Thank you spider boy." Hulk said giving me one last squeeze, breaking my last rib and placing me on the floor.

"So, what do you want to do?" Nat asked sitting on the floor next to Hulk.

"Play outside!" Hulk whined. When did he become so child like?

"Okay, wanna play tag?" I offered thinking back to childhood games.

"Tag?" Hulk asked.

"It's where we run around and touch people gently. The person you touch is then 'tagged' and you must run away from them. You understand?" I explained.

Hulk slowly nodded so Nat took him outside while I called Dad to explain what happened.

"Hey kid, you okay?" Dad asked with my entire class looking at him.

"Yeah he was just lonely and in a mood with Banner. Me and Nat are gonna play some tag with him if that's okay. We'll either be on the roof or balcony." I explained to him.

"Okay stay safe." Dad told me before waving.

"I will. See you later." I said waving back and hanging up the phone.

-2 hours later-

After playing tag with Hulk for way too long we managed to get Banner back. The only think was, we promised Hulk to speak to him later. While my class will still be here. Hopefully he doesn't get scared or feel threatened and we can have a nice and calm conversation with him. We walked back to the training room but no one was there so I called Dad to see where he was.

"Hey, where've you all gone?" I asked.

"We're in the penthouse. How was playing tag with Hulk?" He asked.

"It was fun. We promised we would speak to him later so we need to talk to the class and explain otherwise he may feel threatened or angry." I explained to him getting into the elevator to take us to the penthouse.

"Okay, I'll gather everyone and you three can explain to them." He said.

"Right I'll see you in a minute." I told him before hanging up.

We got to the penthouse and found my whole class plus teacher stood in the living room like they were waiting for something. I walked in with Nat and Banner on either side of me and they all looked visibly shocked.

"Okay, quick announcement if you're all going to be staying the night. What happened before was a 'code green' that means the Hulk. Now, not every time he's here he's angry, so for instance today, sometimes he's just lonely. We managed to get Banner back but promised we would speak to him later so if anyone hears a code green do not freak out. Don't go up to him or anything but don't freak out. That's what'll make him intimidated and angry and that's when people get hurt. Do I make myself clear?" Nat asked giving each individual a piercing glare.

"Yes Miss Romanov." They all said simultaneously.

"Now, you have one hour before food to explore the penthouse. Any door with a red square is a prohibited area, it's mainly bedrooms though. Have fun and don't break anything." Dad warned.

As soon as he finished everyone scattered and tried to find something interesting to look at. Me, Wade, Ned, MJ, Dad, Pops, Nat and Banner all just sat on the sofa and started a movie. As time went on the rest of the Avengers along with Thor, Loki, Shuri and T'challa came in and started to watch the movie with us. We briefly heard and saw my class mates walking around and looking at things in the hallways. They were all very interested in the littlest things.

An hour soon went by and we called everyone back in to talk about food and what we should order. We ended up with Pizza cause who doesn't like that? We ordered 35 because there was a lot of us and I needed like 4 to myself, it was 15 margaritas, 5 Hawaiian, 5 BBQ chicken, 5 vegetarian and 5 meat lover. All large and all delicious. True beauty. We all sat in the living room and no where else would fit us all and ate in pretty must silence.

"So Peter, how come you know the Avengers?" Christie asked.

"The internship. I work closely with Mr Stark and just met everyone from there. It stared with working in projects all night to having sleepovers and it all progressed from there." I explained. It felt weird to call Dad Mr Stark again after all this time of calling him Dad.

"Patricia, how did you get the internship. Stark Industries don't usually hire teenagers." Mrs Robbins asked trying to be polite but made one big mistake. Patricia.

"Well I found Videos of Peter's work on YouTube. I'd also bumped into him at Oscorp at one of your other field trips." Dad explained with emphasis on 'Peter'. Mrs Robbins seemed uncomfortable with Dad's use of my name.

"Well what type of thing do you work on?" Al asked.

"All sorts. Started with building small robots to help with small mundane tasks then working on bigger robots with Mr Stark and then working on suits and weapons for everyone. Now I'm designing them as you all saw before. Btw Wanda, I need you to come to my lab at some point this week to check hour suit out." I informed.

"Okay, maybe after food we could go." She offered taking another bite of a BBQ chicken pizza.

"I can do that." I agreed and finished my slice of margarita.

"Well, why you?" Flash asked clearly annoyed. Shoot.

"What do you mean why him?" Pops asked getting angry.

"Well, with all due respect, why did you hire him? He's nothing special, just a charity case at the end of the day." Flash huffed and Pops' face went red with anger.

"Charity case? What do you mean by that?" Wade asked trying to moving me from his lap but I didn't budge. I knew he'd kill Flash.

"Like with his Aunt, they didn't have money and skips out on school with stupid excuses. You're probably only talking to him cause you feel bad, no need to lie to us." Flash explained and Banner's face turned green.

Everything else happened so fast. First Wade practically threw me off of his lap onto the floor where Ned caught me. Then Banner stormed out of the room yelling and turning green. After that, Dad got up from his seat and lunged forward but Pops caught him and was holding him back in a hug type situation. Nat pulled a knife out. Bucky smashed a pizza. The sofas were floating. There was thunder outside. Loki was evilly smirking. Shuri was holding T,Challa back. Sam was seething in the corner. Clint reached for his bow and arrow. Wade pulled a katana out of god knows where. It was all happening.

"Everybody outside now!" I yelled at the adults and dragged my Dads and Wade out the room behind me.

They all came out and I was immediately attached with question after question after question. Nat was asking if I wanted her to kill them. Dad, Pops and Wade were agreeing with her. Thor was threatening to bring the whole of the Asgardian army. Banner was still no where to be seen. Things really went down hill fast.

"Come on Baby. He made you feel like shit, let me teach him a lesson." Wade tried to persuade pulling me close and putting his hands on my waist.

"No Wade. You're not killing him. You've been doing so well, you've gone a whole 2 months without killing anyone. Don't throw that all away for him. Come on baby, calm down and help me with everyone else." I pleaded looking into his eyes and placing my hands on either side of his face.

"Fine but if he says one more thing not even Hulk could hold me back." He sighed bringing me in for a brief kiss.

"NOT IN FRONT OF US!" Dad yelled all anger seemingly averted to Wade.

"Geeze old man, calm down it was just a kiss. Not as if I fucked him right in front of you is it?" Wade told him sarcastically.

"Stop before your killed." I warned him.

"Mmmm. You're no fun." Wade told me.

"This is all beside the point. Banner's Hulked our and Hulk is not happy about Flash. He's coming straight towards everyone." Nat warned looking at something F.R.I.D.A.Y shown her.

"Oh god." I said as everyone rushed back into the living room to find my class huddled in a corner with Hulk slowly advancing.

Me and Nat ran out infront of them and our hands up to indicate for him to stop. Hulk looked between me and the group with confusion.

"They're mean to spider boy. Why be nice?" Hulk asked.

"Because it's what we do. We're nice to people despite them being mean to us because otherwise we'd be as bad as them. We don't want to be as bad as them. We want to be better. Do you understand?" I explained to Hulk slowly.

"Yes I understand spider boy." Hulk slightly sulked and walked over to a different side of the room where he turned back into Banner.

"How can you do that?" Someone asked hesitantly.

"Do what?" I questioned confused.

"Calm him down. I thought only black widow could do that." They explained baffled.

"Well you thought wrong." I simply told them with a shrug as I walked back over to the couch and sat on Wades lap much to my Dad's disappointment.

"Okay then, what movie should we watch?" Pops asked trying to change the topic and succeeding.

"Okay this is how we're doing it. If you want horror move to the right side of the room. If you want comedy stand to the left." Dad spoke. The majority, including myself and Wade, moved to the right.

"Okay, Annabelle Creation to the right, It to the left." The majority stayed at the right.

"It's settled." Pops announces turning the tv on and playing the movie.

Everyone found somewhere to sit, Dad on Pop obviously, then everyone else who lived at the tower, Ned and MJ squeezed onto the couches. The rest of my class sat on the floor that was covered in blankets, pillows and other types of bedding. It looked quite comfy but nothing was as comfy as Wade.

"So, Parker, how come you're buddy buddy with all of the Avengers?" Flash asked once the movie begun.

"I told you, I'm Mr Starks personal intern and so I met everyone." I lied.

"It's so weird to hear you call me Mr Stark again." Dad pointed out making us all laugh but confused my class.

"Don't start calling me Steve again, too weird." Pops requested earning a few more laughs.

"Alright Cap'ain." I said making us again, laugh a little.

"So, Peter, how did you get your internship?" Al asked.

"Well, it's a long story." I told him trying to think of one on the spot.

"I secretly sent out a message to collages and High schools near by and asked for their most brightest and promising students. I got almost two hundred responses but one from Midtown high stuck out. A boy who couldn't do PE to save his life but could do a university level science equation in his sleep. Sounded like me when I was younger so I spoke with him and after a few trials including him and some other candidates I went with Peter. One of the best decisions I ever made." Dad informed them, lying slightly, making me blush and look down.

"How did that lead to all of this?" Al further questioned gesturing to me and the rest of the Avengers.

"Well, with being his personal intern I followed him everywhere and into meeting for both Stark Industries and the Avengers. He also let me stay here when my aunt had to work late, this then turned into me spending the weekend here most times and some school night. With me spending so much time here I met them all, I was a little awkward at first but got used to them and then the jokes started which turned to minor pranks which turned into Parnell wars which turned into me finding a family in the most unsuspected way." I spoke fondly smiling at the memories of first meeting them and the first prank pulled, Clint decided it would be funny to put shaving cream in all of my pockets and shoes.

"Wow, must be amazing, knowing you can come here at whatever time you want and have the Avengers back you. You're a lucky kid Parker, I'll give you that." Al said.

"I know I am." I spoke, mostly to myself as I took Wade's hand in mine.

"How did your relationship start?" Hayley, a girl from my class, asked.

"That is an interesting story that I'm sure Wade would love to tell." I said smirking slightly.

"Well, I have a tendency to brake in the tower and one time I ran into the living room escaping Stark and found Peter sat on this couch watching Star Wars surrounded my blankets, pillows and junk food. I walked over, sat next to him and had a lovely conversation with him about Star Wars and Star Trek, it was very engaging. Then Stark ruined it by kicking me out and giving me a lecture on communicating with his intern. I clearly didn't listen and came here more often to speak to him, on one of my trips my crush grew too strong and plucked up the courage to ask him out. He said yes much to Starks distaste. We went on a date, shared a kiss and decided to make it official, this was 8 months, 4 days, 32 minutes and 54 seconds ago." Wade told them smiling widely as he pulled me into a deep and loving kiss only to separated by my Dad flicking Wade's ear.

"Wow, that's so sweet." Hayley fan-girled.

Soon enough, nine thirty rolled around and we were all sent to bed, my class was showed to their shared rooms while me and Wade snuck off to my room where he followed through on his earlier promise.

To be continued...

[dinosaurtsukki]

BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 1

hi i am an absolute slut for university au’s in case you couldn’t tell so i just had to write some for my first BSD post. also this is going to be slightly ooc because i am a crackhead

check out pt. 2 here

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Atsushi Nakajima:

he’s definitely the kind of guy who still had no idea what he’d take up in university even after he was accepted 

either wants to not major in anything at all or just major in everything because he’s also scared that he’ll eventually not like what he’s majoring in

so for his first two years you’d probably find him jumping around different classes 

also he still calls the professors ‘teacher ____’ like a high school student and everyone laughs but thinks its cute

eventually, because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he decided he wanted to help children by becoming a guidance counselor

he ends up taking Child Psychology and bOY does he love it so much

well he actually just loves all of his classes because Learning is Fun

although because of his *cough cough* traumatic childhood he’s the one in class that people are all like 👀👀

atsushi: *talking about children’s responses to fear and emotional abuse by talking about his own emotional abuse*

the professor, under their breath: wait, do you need help?? 

i can definitely see atsushi as a Roommate of the Year kind of guy. he’s just so polite and tidy with his room. also he’d definitely be the type to take care of plants inside the dorm room and put them on the windowsill

in terms of extracurricular activities, he’s definitely a sporty type of person so i can see him joining a varsity (something like Frisbee because he likes things that go whoooosh) but he’d probably join a student org that does stuff like community outreach

because of all this, he is a Very Busy Boy but his friends do manage to drag him out to parties once in a while

although atsushi would probably sit in a corner and drink only one beer for the entire night 

he’s notorious for helping drunk people though. most of the time he’ll be putting blankets on people and making them drink water

if he knew how to drive he’d definitely be the designated driver

Akiko Yosano:

omg i’m so excited for this i love yosano so much 

she’s the friend who’s just effortlessly awesome all around and a fricking MED STUDENT to top it all off

she gets a bit too excited when it’s dissection time but it’s alright she has good intentions 

probably the only one in your class who doesn’t go and throw up whenever a cadaver is being used (actually do they still use cadavers i have absolutely no idea)

she also interns at the local hospital as part of her degree program but OMG yosano will not stop telling disgusting stories about the patients she’s had

everyone: *eating lunch peacefully in the dining hall*

yosano: so i pulled a guy’s toe out of a meat grinder this morning

everyone: sHUT UP

for some reason she still has a social life despite being a med student and it’s one of the mysteries of life i guess

yosano LOVES going out clubbing on friday nights. if you have the fortune of being her roommate, be prepared for make-overs and being dragged with her out to the city

she’s such a social butterfly like at every bar you go to, the bartender knows her name and her regular order. she’d probably end the night befriending a couple more people

also she’s amazing at karaoke i kid you not

as for extracurricular life, i don’t think yosano’s the type to join an org that’s related to her major cause like ‘what’s the point?’

instead, she’d probably go wherever her friends are because to her, she’ll enjoy any activity as long as she’s with people she loves

but when it comes to her own interests, i can definitely see yosano as someone who loves the outdoors, especially hiking after having to be cooped up inside clinics

it just makes her love and appreciate the value of life more

Kunikida Doppo:

ok, i KNOW he was a math teacher before he joined the ADA bUT i can’t help but think of him as a political science major ??

i can definitely imagine kunikida as someone who’d want to become a lawyer someday and would take political science as a pre-law

he does like the idea of following in the footsteps of great men but omg kunikida would absolutely hate the exclusivity of white, male political theorists

he is such a good student except for when his professor has some sketchy values then kunikida will !! fight him !! every !! chance !! he gets !!

raises his hand constantly to contradict his professor if they even tRY to defend thomas hobbes and authoritarianism

but other than that he’s probably the most diligent student out there. kunikida genuinely enjoys doing the readings for class and writing essays

also has such a balanced schedule that he can make time for anything and everything

except for when his friends dazai drag him out to parties and get a social life

despite how rigid he is, kunikida has absolutely no problem helping out others with learning. he often holds study sessions in his dorm room or in the library before exams

he also likes to volunteer in tutorial centers because he’s just like that

OH OH some of his ‘students’ suggested that he make crash-course type videos for political science and it took some convincing but eventually kunikida decided to go for it

he’s not the most tech savvy or photogenic person so it took some time for him to get used to things but after seeing all the comments from people who benefited from it, he decided to continue with his crash course videos

whether or not he’s the best or worst roommate is completely up to you. if you like someone who’ll basically micromanage your life from your daily schedule to your study habits, you’ll absolutely love him

he doesn’t like to go out for parties that much but he will if his friends convince him enough (kunikida’s an utter lightweight when it comes to drinking though)

Osamu Dazai: 

i genuinely have a hard time thinking about what this guy’s major would be and tbh even his friends have been wondering what dazai’s major was for TWO YEARS

that’s because he keeps taking the most random ass classes like Basic Pottery or Intro to Molecular Biology in the same semester

idk how he even plans to graduate at this point

although to be honest, i can definitely see him as a philosophy major despite the fact that i LOATHE every male classmate i’ve had who’s a philosophy major (idk they’re always so condescending)

i feel like dazai’s just taking that because it’s somewhat challenging for him but to him, university life is just more of crazy experiences rather than learning

and oh my god has he gotten up to the weirdest shit

the number of times he had to climb gates or sleep on benches at three a.m. is too many to count

dazai also loves volunteering for random things like people’s thesis projects (once, he offered to be a snake venom tester to a bio student and they told him that was illegal) or even being the school’s mascot in games

also he and kunikida probably met each other in freshman year at an intro to philosophy class and oh my god did dazai get on his nerves

what’s worse was that they had to work on a group project together and dazai was MIA most of the time and it drove kunikida crazy

that is until dazai showed up last minute to pull an all-nighter with him for their paper and kunikida just couldn’t help but be impressed by dazai’s ~~intellect~~

they don’t exactly get along but they do have some mutual respect for each other enough to work on projects well

omg if dazai ends up being your roommate I WISH YOU LUCK 

the first time you walked into your room dazai was microwaving a metal bowl and you had to run to stop it in time

also he has a tendency to wear his headphones and sing his favorite double suicide song out loud 

kunikida please come pick him up

Edogawa Ranpo:

i love this one man so much i swear to god 

ranpo is definitely the kind of person who just didn’t like school so when college applications came around he was just like ‘why bother though ???’

his friends did convince him by saying that he wouldn’t have to do subjects he wouldn’t like and just focus on his major (this is a lie btw)

is it a surprise that ranpo would choose forensic science ?? NO

he thinks its cool that he can learn about something he’s already super good at and it just gets him really pumped up to show off how good he is

LOVES getting praised by his classmates and professors

ranpo probably thinks lectures are boring as hell so sometimes he just,,, doesn’t,,, come,,, to class

if attendance IS required you can bet he’s bringing snacks and game consoles with him and sitting WAAAAY in the back of the room

Mukbang at a Lecture Hall with Edogawa Ranpo

his classmates think its cute that he puts on glasses before doing exams or answering his prof’s questions as a way to hype himself up

everyone calls him ‘The Greatest Detective’ and ranpo LOVES IT

despite that, he’s not too overly social he just likes being with his close group of friends UwU

he’s also someone you can drag around to places like the fair or an aquarium, but he’s not into clubbing or drinking for that matter

he DOES enjoy seeing his friends get drunk and mess with them though

ranpo isn’t into joining student organizations BUT he gets scouted a lot by detective agencies and he likes interning for them

i’m saying detective agencies because police are gross

ranpo did end up joining a baking club with the assumption that he would just be EATING the cake and not BAKING the cake

yeah he was just there for less than half a semester

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taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan​

[shortprince-cos]

The Woes Of An Emo

Summary: It's about time they figure this out. All it took was a mental breakdown.

Warnings: Mental breakdown, swearing, crying, miscommunication, confusion, kissing. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

{Masterlist} {Previous}

Chapter 8: Oh That Took Way Too Long.

~~~~~

Roman sat in the corner of the dressing room, hair sticking out wildly, makeup smeared from tears, outfit crumpled, phone by his ear, and sobs shaking his entire body, but he still smiled at Virgil.

Virgil took in a shaky breath. "I-" the words got caught in his throat.

Roman's sad smile disappeared as he ended the call. "Why-" His voice cracked. "Why did you have to do that?"

Virgil felt sick. "W-What?"

Roman got a little angrier as he glared at the ground. "Why did you-you- f**k." He swore quietly. "Why did you take me on the date if you knew? You- you knew, right?"

"K-Knew?" Virgil was operating on 1% brain function at the moment; he was barely breathing.

"Knew that I liked you, knew that-that I was Prince." The tears were loose again. "Knew that you had your own boyfriend."

Now Virgil was completely lost. "What? I- I mean yeah, I knew you liked me -you told me that part- but I didn't know you were Princey! If I knew that I would've said yes!" Virgil said before he could stop himself.

Roman stopped shaking to look confused instead, tears ceasing for a moment. "...What about your boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?! What made you think I had a boyfriend?!"

Roman stood to talk to Virgil better. "You said you liked someone else! A-And your phone call at the mall! You told someone you loved them!" He said defensively.

Virgil took three seconds to let that process. "That was my dad! Not my boyfriend! Are you insane?!"

"No. You are. You-you think this is funny, don't you?"

"What about this would be funny?"

"I don't know, maybe me making a fool out of myself thinking I had a chance."

"I'm not playing you, I swear."

"That's just rich, Virgil, totally believable."

"What can I say to make you believe me?"

"Nothing!"

"Why?!" Virgil was slowly losing his reasoning skills.

"Because why on Earth would anyone ever like me?! It was foolish of me to even think that you would say yes!" Roman was crying again as he yelled. "Why would you ever like me now? After seeing me like this?"

Virgil was stunned for a moment. What was he supposed to do? Roman wouldn't believe a word he said so how was he supposed to convince him?

...Well, actions speak louder then words, right?

"...F**k anxiety." Virgil walked towards Roman, grabbed him by his t-shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

...He was kissing him.

...oh my god he was kissing him.

It was at this moment when Virgil's anxiety returned, and he was about to panic and apologize when Roman grabbed Virgil's waist and kissed him back.

It wasn't how Virgil imagined it would be. It was hot and rushing, yet also nervous and gentle. There wasn't any fireworks or music in the background, just Virgil and Roman. Which was all he needed. Just the two of them. Together.

Virgil reached up to card his fingers through Roman's hair and cup his face with the other hand. He brushed his hand over Roman's cheek when he realized that Roman was still crying.

He pulled away from the amazing kiss to look at Roman. "Are you ok?"

Roman sighed. "Just...confused."

"About?" Virgil asked, still stroking Roman's cheek, making them both blush.

"Well...did you like Roman or Prince?"

"Oh- well- uh- I guess both? I mean, I've liked Princey for probably a year now so..."

"So-" Roman laughed. How could he laugh at a time like this?! "You had a crush on me, and I had a crush on you, but we never realized that we were the same people?"

Virgil let it sink in for a moment and laughed a little too. "Yeahahah we did." They both laughed together.

Until Roman wasn't laughing anymore.

He started simultaneously sobbing and laughing, his body beginning to shake again.

Virgil hugged Roman tight, slowly rocking Roman back in forth while he cried into Virgil's shoulder, raking a hand through Roman's hair, silently hoping that it was doing at least something to help.

"I'm-" Roman gasped for some air. "I'm sorry, I-I thought that-"

"Shhhhhhh." Virgil interrupted. "It's ok. I'm sorry that I was literally blind."

Roman chuckled through the tears. "We both were for awhile."

The stood there for a couple of minutes, trying to calm each other down.

Virgil looked to Roman. "How did you know anyway? That I was anxiety."

Roman looked Virgil in the eyes. "Well, heh, I heard Patton call you 'Virge' and I realized it sounded like your username...Then I realized it was a fricking pun."

Virgil chuckled again. "Yeah, I thought it was funny."

"It was." Roman smiled at him, and all Virgil could think was 'Roman. Smile. Cute.' "But I didn't want to assume, so I...I called you Hot Topic."

Virgil blushed. "Oh. Yeah, heh, I kinda just replied as a reflex to be honest."

Roman and him chuckled together again.

Roman hid his head in Virgil's shoulder again, melting into his touch.

"You ok?" Virgil asked quietly, resuming carding through Roman's hair.

"Not really, but you're helping."

"Anything else I can do?"

"Just-" Roman took a big breath. "Everyone thinks that I'm the strong one, but I can barely even handle something being...wrong with me."

"Roman, nothing is wrong with you, you're perfect the way you are."

"No, I'm not. I have all these imperfections and-and I can't fix them."

"Roman." Virgil started, looking back to Roman again. "Your imperfections are what make you you. Your imperfections, no matter what they are, make you unique, and I love that."

Roman's emerald eyes shone with tears and hope. "I love you."

Virgil blushed hard. "I-I love you too. A lot."

Roman chuckled. "Are you still one of those people who doesn't want to be my boyfriend?"

Virgil grew even more red, remembering their conversation from what felt like forever ago. "N-No." He admitted sheepishly.

Roman chuckled at him again. "Then kiss me again, Friend On The Other Side."

Virgil giggled and obliged, being in the moment for once instead of worrying about ahead. Why would he need to worry when he had everything he wanted in this moment?

All of their problems melted away as they just enjoyed having each other. Finally relaxed and content and loved.

Virgil pulled away from Roman. "What are we gonna say to Pat and Logan?"

"Why don't we just wait for them to find out?" Roman said with a teasing smirk.

Virgil laughed. "God, you're so annoying."

"You know you love me."

"Unfortunately."

Roman and Virgil continued to flirt and tease and maybe kiss some more, but whatever happened next was their moment. It belonged to them, and no one else needed to know. They were all they needed.

The End.

~~~~~

Credit to @weweregoddesses and @thefingergunsgirl for helping edit this chapter!

And here is our final chapter!!!!!!! I really hope this was a satisfying ending, I'm not very good at ending fics lol! But I want to thank everyone who wanted to read this fanfiction, this is my longest taglist so far, and the amount of people that loved this really makes me feel like I did something well. I really hope that y'all enjoyed this experience, and I promise I have more fics where this came from!

Also, I may or may not have an extra TWOAE chapter in the works...as a treat.

Once again, thank you so much! Y'all mean the world to me!!!!

Taglist in reblog

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

[cobaltusami]

Ayo can I get a lee makoto and ler sakura please?

Hey hi hello! I had so much fun writing this, I fricking love Sakura and I’m always happy to write about her. Thank you so much for this request! :’)

So I went with this random Idea of basically her training Makoto on how to win in a tickle fight, Because ofc she would train him. I’m not sure where the idea of the concussion came from but enjoy I guess? xD

Side note, In this fic, Makoto knows about Kenshiro because he has spent time with Sakura. Not sure If that needed explained but just so you know!

Characters: Lee!Makoto, Ler!Sakura, Implied Lee!Hina at the very end.

Word count: 3230

Makoto came staggering Into the nurses office, holding his head In pain. He sat down on one of the beds after retrieving an ice pack from the mini cooler nestled In the corner of the room.

“Makoto? What happened to you?” Aoi asked curiously from the bed across from his.

He jumped in surprise and quickly brought the cold pack down, trying to obscure It from the swimmer. “M-Me? Oh… Nothing, Just have a headache… What about you? Why are you In here?” He quickly turned the question around on her.

“She twisted her ankle while running. I’m wrapping It for her.” Sakura informed him.

Makoto hadn’t even noticed her until she spoke up.

“Don’t ask how I twisted It.” Hina giggled sheepishly, blushing a little.

“I thought Sakura just said you were running?”

“Yeah but…”

“She was running to the dining hall to get donuts.” Sakura sighed, rolling her eyes fondly at her best friend’s antics. She carefully finished wrapping up the foot In her lap and set It back down. “There, how does that feel?” 

“Better. Thanks Sakura.” Hina beamed, launching herself halfway off the bed to hug the taller girl.

Sakura flinched and quickly caught the athlete before she hurt herself even more. “Try to be more careful, Hina. I swear sometimes you can be such a klutz.” she teased, setting the swimmer back on the bed after giving her a quick hug.

“It’s not my fault, The Floor conspired against me.” Hina giggled.

“What am I going to do with you?” Sakura sighed.

Makoto smiled to himself as he watched the two absentmindedly, forgetting for a moment about the roaring migraine he had going… Until he just thought about it. He winced and put the ice pack back up against his head.

“Makoto, What happened to your head?” The Martial Artist asked, approaching the student curiously.

“I uh, Fell and hit my head.” He lied unconvincingly.

“If that’s the case, You might be as big of a klutz as me.” Hina giggled.

Sakura sighed and knelt on the bed behind him, carefully moving his hand away from the spot on his head. “Let me look at It.”

She moved his hair away from the spot on his head, he winced expecting her to be much more rough but she was surprisingly very gentle. It only stung a little. “Am I bleeding?” Makoto asked after a brief silence.

“No. But you do have a painful looking bump on your head. Put the ice back on that spot.” She instructed as she got up and came around to the other side of the bed.

He did as she told him, wincing as the stinging returned. “So all I need to do Is Ice It, Right?”

She sat down In a stool In front of him. “Yes, For that spot anyway. I want to check and make sure you don’t have a concussion though.”

“I’m sure I’m fine, Sakura. It’s just a bump.” 

“You said you have a headache, Is there anything else bothering you? Are you nauseous? Is there any ringing in your ears?” She asked, brushing off his attempts to put her at ease.

“No.”

“Your eyes are dilated.” She informed him. “Makoto, can you remember how exactly this happened?”

Makoto sat there, staring blankly at the wall behind Sakura trying to think. Honestly? No. He couldn’t. He didn’t remember hitting his head, all he remembered was getting up off the floor and stumbling in here.

He hesitantly met her eyes, slowly shaking his head.

She sighed softly and stood up, going over to the medicine cabinet and retrieving some ibuprofen. She brought It back with some water and set them both down on the table in front of Makoto. “Here, these will help, But you have a concussion so your head Is still going to hurt for a while. You can’t sleep for a few hours so Is there anything I can get you to help you stay awake?”

“Um, No… I’ll be okay. Thank you Sakura.” He mustered up a small smile at her.

“You’re welcome. I’m going to go figure out what happened, I will be back to check on both of you.” She said, exiting the room.

“I’ve never seen Sakura act like that before.” Makoto mumbled once the fighter had left the room.

Hina nodded, smiling. “Yeah, She only acts like that around people she’s close to. She kind of turns into a mom when someone gets hurt.” She giggled a little.

Makoto smiled, looking back at Hina. “Yeah, She kind of reminded me of my mom just now. Except she didn’t yell at me for not being careful.”

“She said she used to mother Kenshiro a lot when he’d get hurt. He always got mad at her for It so she kind of hid that side of herself.” Aoi recalled. 

“I don’t understand why, Obviously It was because She cared about him.”

“I guess tough guys don’t like being worried about.” she shrugged.

As the two continued to theorize and talk, Sakura had made her way to the dining hall where the others were gathered, she sat down next to Mondo and just stared at him for a moment.

“What? Why are you looking at me funny?” Mondo asked, turning to face her.

“Mondo… Did you hit Makoto?” She asked.

“What?? Why the hell would I do that?” The biker replied, making a face of confusion. “I’d only hit him If I was mad at him-- Which I wasn’t.”

“Then how did he get a concussion?” Sakura asked quietly.

“Makoto has a concussion!?” Mondo choked.

Taka whipped around, looking In alarm at them. “What?! Where Is Makoto right now?? I must go check on him--”

“He’s resting, I gave him some ibuprofen and he’s icing his head. He’s fine.” She reassured the strict student.

“We were rough housing and he fell, I went to check on him after a minute but he was gone. I figured he just went back to his room.” Mondo explained.

“It’s true.” Chihiro spoke up. “We were all playing around trying to take Mondo down.”

“Trying and failing.” The tough biker corrected, smirking.

“Don’t remind me, My sides still hurt.” Hiro mumbled.

“Hey I tried to tell you idiots that was a bad idea.” Leon retorted. “Clearly you didn’t learn from watching Taka get wrecked.”

Taka blushed as he felt all eyes at the table on him. “W-What? A leader leads by example!”

Chihiro giggled, shaking their head. “Where Is Makoto? I want to go check on him.”

“Yeah, Me too. I feel kind of guilty.” Mondo agreed.

“He’s In the Infirmary.” She answered. Well, At least she knew what happened now. She took the others back with her, and they proceeded to fill Makoto In on what transpired leading up to him hitting his head.

He was thankful to now recall how he got the concussion, but a little embarrassed that the reason he got the concussion to begin with was because he got tickled by Mondo in a bad spot and went flying into a wall to escape.

He was even more embarrassed that Hina and Sakura now knew that fact as well.

A few days later Makoto approached the Martial artist, She was sitting In the pool area watching Hina swim. “Hey Sakura?” 

Sakura looked up at him, The Lucky student appeared very nervous and shy. “Hello, Makoto. What Is It?”

“Um. I have a question.” He sat down next to her. “You can take Mondo In a fight, Right?”

Sakura gave a perplexed look as she smiled in amusement. “Yes, I believe so. Why? Do you want me to beat him up for you?”

“N-No! Nothing like that…” Makoto stammered. “I just… Um… How? How do you fight him and win?”

“What Is this about, Makoto?”

Makoto sighed. “I want revenge on him for the other day, I wanna be the one to successfully take him down. So how do I win against him in a play fight?”

“By play fight you mean...?” She asked.

“He means a tickle fight!” Hina answered, leaning against the side of the pool near them. “He wants to know how to win In a tickle fight!”

“H-Hina!” Makoto blushed bright pink, feeling ridiculous.

Sakura tilted her head curiously. “Is that true?”

“I-It’s not that I think you just go around getting In… Play fights with people all the time, But I think because you’re such a good fighter you’ll have some kind of strategy.” 

The Ultimate Martial artist actually giggled at this. “Oh how wrong you are… I’ve never won a ‘play fight’. But I’ve seen Mondo get tickled on a handful of occasions so I sort of have a strategy that might help you.”

“You’ve never won one before?” Makoto and Hina asked In unison, confused.

“L-Like Makoto said.” Sakura blushed. “I don’t just go around getting into such silly fights.”

Hina and Makoto exchanged looks, He was incredulous while she was… plotting something. Makoto could tell she was going to get herself in trouble later.

“Anyway, What’s the strategy?” Makoto asked, trying to distance himself from whatever foolishness Hina was plotting.

“Okay so…” Sakura thought for a moment, collecting her thoughts. “Mondo relies on his strength so you have to turn that into a weakness. By moving quicker than him and tripping him up by aiming for his joints. He’s sensitive in the stomach but If he’s as good of a fighter as I think he is, He’ll be guarding any obvious spots so you have to be unconventional and-- Makoto? Are you even listening?”

Makoto blinked. “Y-Yeah of course!”

“Repeat back what I just said.”

The lucky student stammered. “O-Okay, I didn’t take In any of that. I’m sorry! I’m listening. It's just... You’re talking kind of fast.”

Sakura frowned. “Sorry, I have a tendency to do that when discussing fighting.”

“No kidding.” Hina mumbled.

Sakura narrowed her eyes at Hina warningly before turning her attention back to Makoto. “I could try to go slower, But I get too Into talking about fighting and tend to start rambling. It might be better If I just show you and explain as I go.”

“No! Th-That won’t be necessary!” Makoto said quickly, blushing brightly. “It’s okay, I’ll figure something out and--”

“Makoto! Let her help you!” Hina chastised, pulling herself out of the pool and settling on the edge. “If you don’t, I’ll help you. And you won’t like my help… I’m not as gentle.” she warned, glaring at the frightened student.

“It’s okay, Makoto. I won’t hurt you.” Sakura reassured him carefully.

He wasn’t just afraid of getting hurt, He also was super ticklish and didn’t want her to see just how ticklish he was. “O-Okay…” He agreed hesitantly, standing up.

She stood up too. “Okay, So for this part, You’re going to be Mondo.” 

He nodded and took a defensive stance, bracing himself internally.

“You’re going to want to make the first move. Normally with someone larger than you, you want to wait for them to strike first so you can dodge and get your hits in.” She approached him. “But that will be his strategy, so you have to use it to your advantage. Reach your right arm out towards me.” she instructed.

He nodded and did as she asked.

“He’s right handed, so when he goes to reach for you, It’ll be with his right arm. Use your size to your advantage and duck as you get closer to his body. You want to avoid his hand by going under it.”

She walked around to his shoulder. “You’ll want to come back up to full height around here, Because you’re going to grab the collar of his coat when you do.”

Sakura grabbed the collar of his coat to emphasize. “He’s going to be spinning around to reach for you, so you have to keep moving while you have a handful of his coat.” she explained. “Spin around and try to grab me.”

Makoto did as she instructed, spinning around to grab at her but she began sprinting around him, dragging him nearly off his feet with her momentum alone. “Once you do this, Lift up--”

Makoto yelped as he was hoisted Into the air.

“And lean Into him, It’s like a tackle. The momentum of your running and his spinning will take him down with you on top of him. I’m not going to do that because I don’t want to hurt you.” She explained, Instead she gently put him down on the floor on his stomach and knelt beside him.

Makoto sighed in relief upon being set down. “Okay, Then what?”

“You’re going to want to keep your knee In the small of his back to keep him down.” She explained, Resting her hand against the small of his back. “Right about here. Make sure you put all of your weight Into It or he’ll be able to get out easily.”

He nodded, Making a mental note of the spot on his back. “Next?”

“He’ll be face down, So that leaves you with very little options. You have to be unconventional.”

“Unconventional how?”

“The Back, His shoulder blades, anywhere that might produce a reaction.” she explained.

“The back? Are people actually sensitive there…?” Makoto glanced over his shoulder at her inquisitively.

“Yes. Some people more than others.” She responded calmly. “Here, Let me show you.”

She brushed her fingers gently across his shoulder blades, to his surprise he squeaked and dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Okahahahay! Ihihihi seehehe what you mean!” He giggled, squirming around.

Sakura smiled in amusement as she ran her fingers across the back of his ribs. “Are you sure? I want to make sure you fully understand.”

Makoto squealed and began giggling harder, rolling over onto his back to protect it. “Ihihihim sure!” he retorted.

“Well, You wanna make sure you apply enough weight so that Mondo can’t roll over like that.” She said amusedly. “Because If he does…”

Suddenly she began tickling his sides and stomach, causing him to shriek and arch his back as he laughed brightly.

“He will destroy you by aiming for your weak spots.” She said as a matter of fact, no hint of joking whatsoever. Though If he looked at her face, He could see she was smirking.

“SAHAHAHAKURA! NOHOHOHOHO!” He flailed, laughing helplessly as he did.

“Come on, Makoto. This Is training. What do you do In this situation? I’ll give you a hint… I told you earlier.” She said, focusing her efforts on his stomach.

Makoto tried to rack his brain for the solution, but he couldn’t focus thanks to the merciless onslaught of tickles to his worst spot. “I DOHOHOHOHON’T KNOHOHOHOW!” He whined.

“Ooh! I know!” Hina raised her hand as though she was In class. “Aim for the joints, Right?”

“Yes.” Sakura relented her attack. “Whichever side he’s on, Raise the hand closest to him…”

Makoto brought his left arm up, still giggling under his breath as he waited for her instructions.

“And either chop his wrist, Or drive your elbow Into his inner elbow to send his arm away.” She explained. “From there, you should have a clear target. His stomach should be exposed. And he’s really sensitive there so It should trip him up enough for you to get the upper hand.” 

Makoto smirked mischievously. “Really?” Without waiting for her to say anything he darted his hands towards her midsection, But she saw this coming a mile away and caught his wrists. Stopping him with ease.

“Did you honestly think that would work?” Sakura chuckled, pulling the now incredibly nervous boy into her lap. 

“W-Wait! Sakura, I-I’m sorry!” He yelped, squirming. He couldn’t pull his wrists free no matter how much he tugged at them.

“Hmm… I’m not sure I believe you.” Sakura hummed thoughtfully. “I think you’re just sorry you were caught.”

Well, Technically she was right.

“Maybe this would be a good opportunity to teach you about teases. Seeing as though Mondo Is very weak to them.” She smirked.

Makoto’s eyes widened as he froze up. “Nononono! I know all about that! You don’t have to teach me!”

“Are you sure? I said I would help you beat Mondo, and this is a big part of that.” She began dragging her fingers across his side teasingly, making him tremble and giggle.

“Ihihihi’m good! I promise!” He giggled, blushing.

“I think you should tease him anyways! The little shit tried to tickle you. That’s my job!” Hina spoke up, outraged.

Sakura laughed lightly. “That would be the biggest mistake you’ll ever make. I will wreck you too.”

“Well yeah, duh. That’s part of the fun. I’m well aware of the risks.” Hina scoffed. 

“I think you may be a masochist, Hina.” Sakura smiled in exasperation at her friend before turning her attention back to Makoto. “But enough of that, What do you say I give you some good lines to use against him?” 

Makoto shook his head frantically. “Nohohoho!”

“But why not? Don’t you want to win against Mondo?” She hummed, forming a claw with her fingers and attacking his stomach. He screeched and threw his head back laughing. “Aw, Poor baby. Does this tickle~?”

“SAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAKURAAHA! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” Makoto blushed bright red, burying his face in his arm.

“Please what? Please tickle you more? If you insist.” Sakura teased, vibrating her fingers into his sensitive belly.

Makoto let out another shriek as he laughed hysterically, tears welling up in the corner of his eyes already. “NAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MEHEHEHERCY!” He cried out.

“Do you think Mondo Is going to have mercy on you? Why should I?” she asked, though she did lighten up to just gently brushing her fingers against his exposed stomach.

He laid there in her lap giggling and laughing like a damn fool.

“He’s going to tickle you to pieces and laugh about it.”

“Whahahahat’s your pohohohoint?” He laughed.

She stopped her attack and let go of his wrists, gently putting him back down on the floor. “My point Is, If you make snap judgements and move without thinking of the repercussions, You’ll lose.”

He laid on the floor giggling softly and recovering from the attack. 

“Your advantage In this fight will be that Mondo Is reactionary, He doesn’t think about his actions so you can plan for that. But that’s also your disadvantage. You have to be quick thinking and stay three steps ahead of him if you want to win.” 

Makoto nodded as he sat up. “Thanks Sakura… Do you think I should practice before I try to take him on?”

“It definitely wouldn’t hurt.” She replied.

Makoto glanced up at Hina. At that moment they both lunged at Sakura, Who again saw this coming a mile away. She caught Hina In one arm and Makoto In the other, She pinned their bodies against hers with their arms at their sides so they couldn’t escape. “Seriously? Again?” She sighed.

“Hina why did I let you tempt me Into this!?” Makoto complained, squirming helplessly.

“Hey, You should have known following my lead was a bad idea.” Hina giggled.

“I guess some people learn the hard way...”

“Nononono! Sakura wait! Wahahahahahait!”

“Aieeee! Sahahahahakuraaaa ihihit tihihickles!”

Sakura sighed, What was she going to do with these two idiots? Well apparently the answer Is tickle them nearly to death, Because that’s what happened.

[sugargliderowl]

Thoughts About Remus' Playlist

So as usual, this is my first reaction/rant/analysis about the playlist! This time, it’s Remus’ Playlist. I think it’s going to be cursed. But a... good cursed, if that’s a thing. As usual, feel free to add on to this! It’s good to share thoughts and talk about meanings, even making predictions about the future! 

General Overview Before Listening: I love Yugen_sama ‘s artwork; her style makes me happy! Also, Remus doing that? TOTALLY HIM. Just looking at the choice of songs does mirror Roman’s playlist in a way with their own anthems, Tenacious D, maybe an etc. We’ll have to see on that. His explanation with all the emojis is definitely him, and I think that’s all I can say. Just look at it.

Reminder: Before we go on, a little reminder for your safety. The songs can be quite... a handful. If you know about Remus’ personality and interests but still wanna read the overall analysis, go to the TL:DR at the way bottom without reading the specific song analysis. If you remember the TW from the video, that really applies here. Stay safe. 

Song Analysis:

This Devil’s Workday: Genius told me that this is about a criminal going mad. Yeah. The blazing trumpets and the really radio-like voice in the song is kinda creepy, but that goes with Remus as intrusive thoughts! He’s very obtrusive, and he’s everywhere without any filter. It’s a good intro to his character. The poor sack of puppies in this song goes back to his theme’s lyric, “your pet dog stuffed into a sausage” Also, the repetition of “All the people that you know / Floating on the river are logs” is like what he does to Thomas (repetitively reminding him about the bad things). The  “Oh I am my own da[ng] God” goes along with all the biblical references he makes in his theme (and just the dark sides in general). All in all, this song/introduction just is him screeching, “HI, I’M YOUR INTRUSIVE THOUGHT WITHOUT THE UGH.” 

Forbidden Fruit (the Duke’s Theme): If you are a Fander, you definitely are singing/screaming this on top of your lungs as you listen to this. I did that, and I love that. This song itself has a lot of good analysis online, so check them out! It was the intro song of the Duke with all his motives, thoughts, and everything beyond that, so it’s definitely on here. Also, it mirrors A Gay Disney Prince from Roman’s playlist by both being their own “I want” songs as well as their character role songs. The Creativitwins strike here once.

Double Team: Tenacious D! The Creativitwins strike here again! Wonderboy was on Roman’s playlist, which is also a Tenacious D song, so you can definitely say there are some mirroring going on here (also! YES the artist choice seems like a definite factor in choosing these songs). So this song is about having sex. Okay. And having a threesome. Okay, Remus. This song, even though it’s from the same artist as Roman, has a really different theme. If the Tenacious D selection is about the twins, would this mean that Roman wants them to be a really good team who, even though are opposites, can get along, while Remus wants them both to lose the filter and have fun? Overall, it could mean that the twins both want to get along, just in different ways which contradict one another. I’m not going into the lyric details because oof.

Man: I just noticed that Yeah Yeah Yeahs was on Patton’s and Virgil’s playlists. On Remus? I didn’t really expect that, but that’s a pleasant surprise. This song is really interesting because it’s not like the other two. This song, for me, is about someone who is obsessed with a man who would make her do anything, and she’s just hooking up with him or something. Also, the whole, “You're all gonna burn in hell / I said we're all gonna burn in hell” goes back to the biblical references that the Dark Sides make as well as the lyric of “Cause your head's not in the gutter, pal / It's in Hell.” Who is the man? Thomas, probably. This probably directs back to Remus convincing Thomas to drop the filter.

Freeee: “When man becomes possessor of the knowledge of himself, he becomes the master of his environment“ in the beginning of the song is Remus telling Thomas to learn about himself by possibly accepting Remus. The lyrics “One day they hate you / Next day they love you / I'm still yellin' "F[*]ck 'em" / I could never trust—” show how Remus doesn’t trust the society like Janus, and that’s just one of the main core of the dark sides. They don’t trust people that much. This does include Virgil since he is anxiety, so he can’t trust everything immediately. They all have different ways of showing the distrust. For Remus, it’s the layback, “frick it” attitude. “I don’t feel pain anymore” and “nothin’ hurts me anymore” seems to be a potential for Remus angst of being rejected from all the sides and being the “Evil Twin”. Does he care or not care? No one knows yet.

In The Room Where You Sleep: Sleep from the shorts and Virgil will both react really strongly to this song. Why? “There's something in the shadows / In the corner of your room / A dark heart is beating / And waiting for you” (Telltale Heart reference-). Yeah. Remus listening to this would go back to that end card of Remus being creepy (and eating deodorant). Also, it possibly demonstrates Virgil and Remus’ relationship; Remus scared Virgil because of his thoughts and conjectures. The repetition of “You better run / You better hide” would also contribute to this thought, definitely. But then again, that melancholy keyboard... Why that montage at the end?

No Reason Boner: The song is very catchy and funny. But ASDKLFAJSD. This is definitely Remus’ type of song. That means that the sexual information is given control to Remus, and he probably uses the information for his jokes and intrusive thoughts. This song is what Remus' personality is: goofy yet NSFW. This intrusive thought without the ugh is probably lovable in this fandom because of that. Also, I don’t know why, but he can have that naivete even though he’s the one in charge of stuff like that. A nice juxtaposition right there.

I Told You I Was Freaky: This playlist is a RIDE. VERY MUCH A RIDE. Just all the sexual references in this song are just 1000% Remus. The song itself is quite whispery, and I guess that goes with Remus because he whispers the dirty stuff into Thomas’ ears. Well, whisper is very much an understatement. But I have to admit, if you listen to the lyrics, there are some very creative ways that people don’t think of. It’s usually a bed, a car, or in a club or party, but the lyrics are more than that. Then, we can assume how capable and skilled Remus is as the Dark Creativity; he’s as good as Roman, just in a different category. 

Queef: If you don’t know what a queef is, I didn’t too. I just looked it up while I was typing this. Wait, isn’t Awkwafina in like a movie? This, like that last song, is basically him going off on his creativity and wordplay. In future episodes, I would love to see how Remus can go off with his wordplay because if Roman’s good at all the nicknames, and if Remus is basically him but darker, that means he’s good. Like really good. This song is also very, very catchy, and I kinda jammed through it because of the beat.

Manners: According to genius, this song is a "sexually-charged bad b[*]tch anthem on which Ashnikko displays her “IDGAF”-attitude.” Basically, the vine, “I’M A BAD B*TCH YOU CAN’T KILL ME” would equate to Remus as well as the meme, “Aren’t you tired of being nice? Don’t you want to go APESH*T-.” This might connect with his facade in a way because he seems to be naive and goofy at times (although NSFW), but when he drops it, he drops it fast, and he drops it hard. For example, his facade drops when he threatened Logan in DWIT, and his facade can be picked back up quickly, too. This song also has the element of “Frick this world” attitude, which Remus showed in the previous songs, and I stan him. As the fandom did an edit once, he would definitely wear acrylic nails if he wants to. A thing that I did notice though is the lyric “Fight or flight, I’m fighting for my life.” HI VIRGIL!

Ben Bernanke: I don’t know who Spencer is, but a big OOF for him. This song’s structure is really unique because I have no clue where it’s going, and it’s going with Remus’ personality of just randomness and intrusivity (is that a word?). ALSO, the continuing snakes in these songs. So is Spencer Janus in our context? If so, Remus is quite mad at Janus. I do see why though, after that last video implying that he’s the Evil Twin. “Do you think you can mock me, Spencer? / Do you think you can capture my essence / And throw it back at me with / Humor and rhetorical devices?” Gosh, Janus and Remus could have beef with one another. Also, that “Avada Kedavra” and “I’m... a furious magician” could definitely foreshadow something in the future. Additionally, “You're the architect of my dreams, Spencer / You plan them, and build them on blue paper / And hand them to me / And then I dream them, Spencer.” 

Worldwide Torture: “I never come second place / Always been a big disgrace Smell the fear, I know you see / High achiever (Yeah, that's me!)” Welcome to Remus’ angst that we do not know much about yet. It’s great. It’s just like Roman, but in a more “I’m a disappointment” way! However, what’s quite different is that Remus is pissed. Beyond pissed about it, so he acts up unlike Roman who tries to mask it. Because he knows that he’s not regarded nicely with any of the sides, he wants to molest them and destroy the world, shown by the lyrics “A pure violation of God's great creation / It’s an infestation, it’s world domination.” I think this issue might pop up more frequently as more episodes come out, but for now, this is my assumption. Out of context, “The highest score” goes with that last episode, since Remus was present as the 80085. 

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na): I DIDN’T EXPECT THIS TO BE HERE, BUT I LOVE IT. THANK YOU. WOOOOOO YASSSS. This is actually one of the “pump me up” songs. First, “Eight legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill them all” is, obviously, a spider in the song, but in our context, we can also call it an octopus because Remus’ animal is an octopus, which has 8 tentacles (6 legs and 2 arms). Second, Remus is PISSED. He definitely has a punk aesthetic, shown by all the songs about flipping the world. The lyrics “I’d rather to to Hell / Than be in purgatory” definitely shows his determination of doing so since he’s saying that he won’t sit back. Somehow, for me it’s a growth from the beginning of “I don’t care” to “I actually care, and I’m fighting for that sh*t”. Pissed off Remus is scary Remus.

Trash People: Trash rat boiiiii. But this song is more than that. It’s showing that trash people aren’t really... trash people. “ Art is love and love is sloppy / Nothing is all pure / Nothing is all dirty” really shows the whole duality aspect in the entire series. Everything is gray. And that’s what Roman and Remus need to work on since they were divided by the black and white mentality. If Remus is okay with the gray morality, then who would be the one that he’s directing this song to? Roman. “Wearing a smile and a heart on my sleeve” though. I don’t get this lyric, but then again, tell me what you guys think! Does this mean that Remus is actually trying to be like this, or is he mocking Roman... The “no time to start over” also sounds really ominous.

Tranz: Gorillaz! Same album as Roma-OKAY THIS IS GETTING REAL. The last one with this artist had the lyrics, “I’m the lonely twin, the left hand... I don’t want this isolation.” People were screaming about this because, of course, this refers to Remus, but who knew that this was going to pop up again! That’s why I loved the artist connections during these analysis. Anyways, this goes back to the twin duality, but more of an angry tune. Take a look at this: “Do you look like me? Do you feel like me? / Do you turn into your effigy? / Do you dance like this forever?” Remember Roman’s whole monologue about Remus as someone he sees in the mirror with all the things he doesn’t want to be? This song is Remus asking Roman about that statement. Keep in mind that effigy is a sculpture that is usually used to mock or burn and is used as a negative connotation (thank you my English teacher). Remus doesn’t like that comparison at all, and I’m more concerned for him now than I was ever before after Janus saying that too. 

Death as a Fetish: Wow, this is sad. “And I will never be good enough, quietly / And you will never be good enough, just like me.” If the twins have the time to reconcile, this is probably the first thing they need to help out on each other. Remus knows more about his twin than we all thought, and he knows that both of them have problems about that. On the other hand, this song, when I looked at some of the annotations on genius, has a sad connotation. Life is so short, and it ends, and you know for sure that death is there at all times with that repetition of “death as a fetish” after everything we find positive. For Remus, I guess he knows about this. He’s a deeper character than we credit him as.

Don’t Stop Me Now: TONIIIIGHT IM GONNA HAVE MYSEEEELF A GOOD TIIME- okay. This song is something I scream my lyrics to. I also didn’t expect this, but in a calmer manner (because I wasn’t calm when this was on), yes please. Basically, DON’T STOP ME NOWWW! I don’t know how to explain this in a deeper way. Yeah. I LOVE THIS SONG THOUGH!

Things I Don’t Remember: “Things I don't remember / How the hell'd we get here? / How the hell did we get here?” This can be interpreted in a lot of ways. It could either be how all the sides came to be, how Roman and Remus came to be by both having the role of creativity, or just where Thomas is mentally since they are all Thomas. I think that’s depending on how you want to go about it. The last point is the strongest for me because of this one phrase of  “There were endless conversations / No one's mouths were really moving” maybe referring to the sides’ conversations around Thomas’ dilemmas. They sometimes only make it worse until someone has to kick in to change the viewpoint around, and that’s the reason why it feels like nobody’s mouths were really moving. Also, dressed up alligators? Okay, Remus.

F*ck It!: (Censored by yours truly with her notecard of “note your language”) The album name of taxidermy... fitting. Back to the song. “Why abstain? Why jump in line?” and “They say don't take the risk you're sure to fail... But what's the worst that could happen, end up in a coffin? / Isn't that where we're all headed anyway?” really highlights Remus’ spontaneity, which is a big factor in intrusive thoughts. This is back to the “frick this”, but more a “frick it I’m doing that sh*t, and I don’t care about the consequences” (going back to Na Na Na on that). Also, “'Cause it's easier to lie to yourself than to face reality” reminded me of Janus, but does this also apply to Remus in a way? Or does this apply to all the sides who are lying to themselves, especially Roman? Anyways, Remus’ spontaneity is something to kinda look up to at times. Not... not all the time. 

fReAkY 4 Life: Dorian Electra... the one behind Flamboyant from ROMAN’S PLAYLIST! The Creativitwins music solidarity number I-forgot-to-count. To the lyrics! “They just don't understand me / I'm not like them, I'm freaky” does go to all the other sides and Thomas because Remus really stands out from all the other sides. Silly yet NSFW, weird, and very new. Also, he seems to want some attention from all the sides with “ I like to be in the spotlight / Step on the scene ’cause it feels right / I freakin' scream, baby, all night / I do it, I do it, do it all the time,” but is it a distraction or legitimate attention? I love how this song is the finale because this song is the fireworks that says Remus. All the lyrics really match him, and especially with the “I hear what they call me / I hear what they say / I'm not very cool, yeah / But I'll never change,” it cements how Remus thinks. 

TL:DR: 

Remus is a character deeper than we already know him as. There are a lot of him that hasn’t been introduced to us since he’s pretty new. He has been on for about 2-3 episodes (only 1 with his full participation), and he never really interacted with Roman nor Janus, both who has a history with our little gremlin. Yes, Remus is the Duke of Dark Creativity and intrusive thoughts; there are so many references that are R-rated in this playlist, but in the end, he is another side. He more than the trash boi who gleefully talks about sensitive topics. 

He still has a connection with Roman with all the overlaps in their insecurities and artists, and he’s probably the one who’s more knowledgeable about their relationship as a twin. He could even want to reconcile with his twin, but in a way that Roman would not approve. That doesn’t mean that Remus is kinda mad at Roman. A fun house mirror.

Next, He doesn’t want to change himself in the sake of others although he knows that the others hate him for being him, and he’s actively going against it, not caring about the consequences. That’s what drives him to be really good at his job. He’s as good as Roman on doing his job. Along with that, he wants Thomas to embrace him as one of the sides and come over to the dark side of creativity. It’s one of Remus’ biggest dreams: acceptance. I want to see how this plays out with him and especially him.

Finally, he’s pissed. Very pissed. After all the berating at his back from all the other sides, including Janus, he’s PISSED. He’s ready to throw hands and wreck the world. I’m starting to be worried for how his character would develop. If he goes apesh*t, I’m getting popcorn and coke. Maybe drink every time we see him go feral. Eat a popcorn every time someone is disgusted by Remus. 

Overall, I love him more than I ever did because of this playlist since music is the window to the soul. It’s like knowing a person and learning about them. Also, by doing this, it really develops the character and lets the people look inside the character’s deepest thoughts and desires. I don’t know if there will be any additions to these, but if not, I really want to thank the entire group who made this happen! I found some songs that I really love now, and it’s such a good way for the fanders to have fun! (also, the content inspired from this is going to be very interesting)(the ANGST) 

Thanks for reading if you came til here, and feel free to add on to this! I would love to see how you guys think about this playlist!

[leapyearkisses]

Orbs Are Bad News Part 1/2 - (m/m) Gerrit/Llewellyn

I ran out of Eliseo/Padgett stories, so I’ll post the rest of what I’ve got. Thank you to everyone who has liked, reblogged, and/or left nice comments. This community is truly so kind!

Anyway, I love these characters, so much. :)

MESS, sorta NSFW probably, sneezing on person (who likes it) - Elven sorcerer Llewellyn gets his hands stuck to a magic orb while he has a cold and has to be taken care of by his FWB(?) half-elf fighter Gerrit Truestride who gets off on that sort of thing. 

I fricking forgot Gerrit’s last name. This might be it??

---

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside. The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table."

"Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones."  "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!" "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.  Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied." "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!" "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.  "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine." Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the- Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively.  Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch! Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go."  He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.  He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest.  "Ready to go?"  Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"  Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess." Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion.  "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!" Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccuped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?" Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!"  Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Lleyellyn, eventually. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

[celestialflamesme]

| KARMA AND CRAZY MIDGETS | A Venai One-shot Modern AU | Fairy Tail Next Generation |

Ships: Raidyn Dreyar x Venetia Redfox

Dedicated to @primaverafrog @luna-chan00 @biorckstudios18 @animaration-fts @cxndy-stxrs (Lol, I can't believe that no-paragraph breaks worked😂 I fooled Tumblr, y'all!😎😆)

You'd think having a town overtaken by the mafia would make people more apprehensive, if anything. But if Magnolians were anything, they were huge (and he simply could not stress this enough) idiots.

Raidyn prided himself in not partaking in anything Fairy-esque which was more than what he could say about some of his colleagues (Yes, they named themselves Fairy 'Tail' of all things! How no one in this town even got the spelling right was beyond him....)

"Did you hear about Fullbuster and that Fernandez chick? They're together now!" Some red head he'd forgotten the name of (What! It was too late to ask her now!) stage-whispered.

"Who? Storm?"

The entire cafe burst into laughter. "Like Storm would even look at a girl that's not Nashi."

Point proven. They!! were!! on!! first!! name!! basis!! (He bet no one in this room even knew his last name, let alone first. Not that it mattered. He liked slinking in the shadows, although it was practically impossible with his snow-white hair)

Geez, did these people have no lives? They were talking about delinquents for Pete's sake! And ones that sure loved messing up the town in their infamous brawls. But did the people care? Nooooo.

Ugh, one more year and he'd be out of this whacked up place. Wiping a tabletop, he forced a smile on his face and pretended to be interested in the topic.

"Cass, I'll have a black and a burger with fries," a voice interrupted. A voice he was very familiar with.

Did he happen to mention that the most annoying one of them all had made this her hangout spot?

At 5'1, you'd think Venetia Redfox would be the least intimidating person ever. But with crimson red eyes and a Devil-may-care attitude that made up for it, no one dared mess with her. She also caused 75% of the fights in town and had a smirk straight out of a Wattpad Bad-boy fanfic.

Boy, did he hate her.

"You're gonna chip it off with that grip, Blondie."

Oh my god, she did not just-

Raidyn shot her a glare and strode to the back of the register, faintly registering a chuckle (Who the hell did she think she was?) before picking up another order.

Little Miss Redfox however sat at a corner table and continued doing whatever the hell she usually did every Tuesday and Friday for 3 hours in a row (he should know, he was there glaring at her at closing time).

But the kicker this time was, at that moment, her phone rang. You have never really seen your world end right before your eyes if you haven't seen a 5 foot psychotic looking delinquent decked in leather that drove in a motorcycle there by the way (How does one willingly ride on a metallic death-trap like that?!) mumble the words 'Cha cha real smooth' and pick up a call with the most deadpan look ever.

Raidyn almost cried. Almost.

"Are you kidding me? Do it yourself! I swear to God, you always do this shit, Dragneel!" She got up from her seat and walked out, just like she looooved doing smack dab in the middle of her classes back at Magnolia High.

Good riddance.

........

He jinxed it. Karma was such a bitch.

Though no sort of karmic revenge could explain the shit he had to go through that week.

First off, he had 4 assignments due in by the end of the week. And turns out that was the exact week his dear red-head colleague decided would the perfect time for a vacation (It's the middle of September, where in hell's name was she planning to go to?)

Guess who had double shifts now?

This clown.

Ugh. Talk about chivalry and all that loyalty shit.

And yes, of course his car had to break down, and the local bus had to change it's schedule, which left him with his last resort: walking 4 and a quarter miles to school (Oh, he found that out the hard way all right) to college. Nashi and the Fullbuster kid (He sure loved walking around shirtless a little too much) decided to brawl (again) and bam, his locker got caught in the crossfire.

In fact things were so overly shitty that he became skeptical come Thursday when the day seemed relatively normal.

"You've been scowling all week, Dreyar. Anything the matter?"

Raidyn snapped out of his reverie and groaned. "Dad, why not just call me by my name like any normal person would?"

"Because that doesn't build-"

"CHARACTER!! WE GET IT!" His mom, Mirajane mimicked with a scowl. "Well, we're just going to get two Happy meals and then we're off, honey!"

He faintly registered Hunter snickering in the background (How immature. Raidyn wasn't one to get embarrassed by his parents. Plus, none of it would ever compare to the Disco Fiasco of 2001. How else do you think he got his car? Sweet, sweet guilt-tripping....)

The day buzzed past but his suspicions only intensified tenfold. (Call him a pessimist, he didn't care) And like a bull in a China shop, a tiny midget Redfox (the one and only) strut in.

Now, he was behind the counter at that moment handling the red-head (he really ought to learn her name someday) so he didn't notice 5 feet of brute strength that climbed up behind him and dragged him (poor, unsuspecting him) into the supply closet.

Oh no, he was not kidding. The supply closet. Of all the places the perpetrator could've-

The lights flickered on and he screeched (What? Any human would!) at the red irises staring determinedly into his own non-red eyes. (Seriously, were those even real?) Raidyn wasn't scared of no judgement, what did scare him (maybe not that much, now that he knew who those belonged to) was Satan's minion and her RED AS FUCK EYES! LIKE SERIOUSLY-

Clearing his throat and trying to salvage some faux dignity after that dramatic display, he grunted, "Touch me one more time and you're-"

"Yeah, yeah I get it, big guy. Look, I need a favour."

Venetia Redfox crossed her arms and stood threateningly in front of the entrance.

Who was she kidding? "Nope," he muttered and swerved right around her and made his way to the counter. (Pipsqueak. She really should've seen that coming.)

And right as he turned right towards the display case, he found her leaning against it with her shoulder, looking bored. "Yes. And now."

How the- PPHIGXUTDUTZUT- HOW DID SHE JUST-

"Parkour." She deadpanned.

Raidyn gave Venetia a long, long look and sighed, striding towards her. Her smirk widened in anticipation as-

He picked her up like a sack of potatoes and tossed her over his shoulder.

"WHAT THE- THIS IS HARASSMENT!!"

"Technically, you cornered me first," he stated matter-of-factly and dropped her on her feet (she looked like a hissy kitten, hmm.) Then proceeding to close the doors at her, he picked up a poster of her (he kept posters of all of them for a day like this. Ah, foreboding luck. He could feel it.) and pinned it onto the front door.

BANNED: VENETIA REDFOX

(Was he even allowed to do that, you might ask, but bah, who cares? Rabid girls are a nationwide threat.)

.................

As he wrapped up and prepared to leave, Raidyn had a niggling feeling he forgot something very, very crucial. Uh-

A body collided onto his own and climbed (I kid you not) him (THE FUCK KIND OF ANIMALS DID MAGNOLIA OWN?) before a tiny, rough hand muffled him. Oh no.

"Yoph kiphing mmph!" Raidyn groaned.

"I need you to teach me how to solve a Rubix Cube."

What. Excuse Raidyn for not knowing, but was Rubix cube some mafia codeword for mafia stuff? Stealing a car, fighting goons, skipping classes or drug dealing? Raidyn Dreyar had a long jail-free life ahead of him, mind you.

BUT SERIOUSLY, SOLVE A RUBIX CUBE?! HOW FRICKING RANDOM WAS THAT?! WHO EVEN TOLD HER HE KNEW HOW TO SOLVE ONE? WHAT WAS WRONG WITH THIS GODFORSAKEN TOWN?!!!

(Some might say he really had to stop reading those novels his mom bought. Some might be right. Whatever.)

Back to the topic on hand, he mumbled inaudibly. Her cropped hair tickled the sides of his face as she squinted at him, "What?"

Was she kidding right now? He pointed at her hand covering his mouth and her eyes widened as she let out a nervous laugh. (Geez, talk about stupid.)

He took in a deep breath and shook her off him. She stood there patiently (As patiently as a Redfox could, anyway.) as he straightened his shirt.

"First things first, NO!" And he stalked away.

He registered a groan from behind him and quickened his pace. However, the midget in question managed to propel herself at break-neck speeds and no joke, TACKLED him.

"PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE-"

"GET OFF ME, YOU PSYCHOTIC-"

Karma was such a bitch.

Macao, the guard standing by the parking lot, huffed, "They don't pay me enough for this."

...............

The only reason he was doing this was because she offered to fix up his car. (How did she even know it wasn't starting?) Also because it had been a while since he brushed up on his Rubix skills. Also because he wanted to get rid of the midget before she followed him home. (He figured his mom and dad would ENJOY her presence and replace him with her. He had crazy parents.)

Everyday she'd make sure to meet him (mostly by cornering him in the hallways) and in exchange for these classes, she'd work on his car at the weekend.

The first time she came over to his house (to work on his car, but he didn't know that) was rather embarrassing because he kinda sorta thought she was a burglar and locked his garage, yelling at the top of his lungs. His dad, Laxus came out with a taser (Dad sure loved his tasers.) Of course, when he finally opened the garage doors, he was met with an unimpressed look from the Redfox in question. (God, he was such a drama queen.)

The midget had a lot of trouble twisting her hands at the beginning of her sessions and he loved teasing her about her 'butter fingers' every time she accidentally flung the cube across the room or out the window in one rare occasion.

You know, she was kind of fun to have around.

"And that's the algorithm! You're all done!" He cheered, glad to have this behind him.

"Geez, you don't have to sound that excited to get rid of me." Venetia teased.

"What? No....." He feigned innocence.

"D'aww, admit it, you enjoyed my company."

"Please, more like I was scared for my life." He mumbled. She snorted.

"Catch you later, alligator."

Did she just- "NO WAY, JOŚE!" (That was lame even for him. Gosh dang it, she was laughing at him....)

Fricking Redfox.

......................

That weekend, Raidyn thought he deserved a good ol' evening out with his friends/colleagues (technically it was the manager that suggested it and he tagged along for the heck of it. He wasn't much of a social person, per se.)

He guessed Karma was still on a streak when Venetia Redfox entered the very same place they'd chosen for karaoke night and sat herself on one of the tables in front of them. And proceeded to order nothing.

The raven-head didn't even have her notebook (that always made her look disarmingly tiny) or her phone. Oh well, she must've been waiting for someone.

As the hours passed, he found himself exceedingly irritated for no reason.

"Who in their right mind would stand up The Venetia Redfox?" His colleagues whispered (rather loudly, according to him) and she just tapped her fingers away, oblivious to it all.

Fine, whatever.

"Sup." He towered over her and greeted, moving to take a seat next to her.

She blinked at him.

Okay, you couldn't exactly judge him. She was a regular and tipped good and people were being annoying about her and oh, her tapping was distracting and he had a massive headache coming. That's all. Simple as that.

"Don't you have better shit to do?" Red irises stared at him impassively.

"What are you doing here by yourself?" He asked coolly.

"Well, Nashi was supposed to-"

"I'M HERE! I'M HERE! I'M-" Both tilted their heads just in time to see Nashi ram into the glass doors. The now groaning pinkette was sprawled on her butt in front of the entrance. "Fricking doors."

"That's her." Venetia deadpanned. Raidyn shook his head sympathetically.

"Heyo Ven! Heh, kinda lost track of time beating Frostbite at Mario Kart," her doe eyes scanned him. "Raidyn! I didn't know you guys were friends!" She grinned.

Raidyn gave her a two-finger salute in greeting.

Nashi's eyes suddenly widened in realisation. "YOU'RE TEACHING HER THE RUBIX?!"

"Uh..."

"Yup." Venetia smirked. "He's a great teach. His parents have taken me in as their own."

"WAIT! WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?! HOW WAS I NOT AWARE OF THIS?!"

"Just like that, Blondie. What can I say? It's the charm," She grinned at his bewildered face.

"You guys are all ready for the challenge then?" Nashi wiggled, now nervous, "Ven, I didn't mean to drag you into this, but Clint was-"

"It's cool, dumbass." Venetia shrugged. "Ain't your fault that they're dipshits."

At his confused look, Nashi clarified, "People like picking on us just because we're Fairies and held to the same standards as our parents. This frat dude decided he had to prove he was smarter than the Fairies and decided to pick a Rubix cube challenge of all things." She rolled her eyes. "Bet he taught he was real original thinking that one up."

"Bet he did." Storm scoffed. (Wait, what?)

"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?"

"From- the front door?" Storm scratched his head in genuine confusion. (As if Raidyn was the weird one that sneaked up behind people like a stalker!)

Nashi facepalmed. "Why the heck are you here, Frostbite?"

"Just like that."

"Gosh, you're so annoying."

"Wanna say that to my face, Flamebrains?!" Storm yelled. (Oh, not again....)

"Guys, please don't...." Raidyn said, but both didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"I SAID YOU'RE ANNOYING! FIGHT ME!" She threw a punch at him and before he knew it both were throwing napkin holders and vases at each other.

Venetia seemed to be enjoying the show, and pulled him to the back of the room, "This might take a while," she stated. "Wanna grab a milkshake?"

Well, he was kind of craving one. "Why not?"

..................

Today was the day of Venetia's challenge and Raidyn found himself nervous.

"You sure they won't wreck the place?" He grumbled for the umpteenth time.

Venetia groaned. "Do you have no faith in my abilities, Dreyar?"

"Nope. None whatsoever."

She raised an eyebrow, "Shame on you, then. I wouldn't let a good friend lose his job on my behalf. Dally ho, now!" She cheered.

He blinked at her, giving her a small reluctant smile. "Kick ass, Ven."

She tilted her head toward him and gave him a grin that knocked the breath out of him. "Thanks, Raidyn."

Shit. When did- when did she get so pretty?

"Look who we have here. You sure you're in the right place, Redfox?" A voice condescended. The owner of the voice was a grimy looking kid that looked like one of those middle-school spelling-bee losers that bragged about it whenever they met someone new.

"Clint." Venetia deadpanned.

Raidyn broke out into a fit of laughter, making 'Clint' (What kind of sad name was that?) glare at him. (Oh please, Little Clint was totally quaking in his boots! Why'd he even bother coming?)

"Let's begin then! Pick a shuffler." Clint drawled.

Venetia picked Nashi while Clint, after a moment of deliberation, picked one of his gang-mates (What did they call it? The Math club?)

"You may begin."

Both Nashi and the grimy dude shuffled for the better of 15 seconds. Clint just scoffed and clicked like a pretentious know-it-all, making comments like, "You're making it easier by shuffling harder, you know. Make it tougher for me, Nashi dear."

Raidyn had to give it to the pinkette, he would've smacked the teen by now.

"Okay," the referee, Storm cheered, (even though he looked like he was ready to kill Clint) "Timer starts, NOW!"

Both twisted and turned the cube furiously, Venetia sticking her tongue out in concentration while the teen twisted his arms like a man possessed.

"I'M DONE!" Venetia dropped the cube with a thud onto the table. "How's that for a Redfox?"

"E-excuse me? That's insane! It's only been," Clint checked the timer like the sore loser he was, "31 seconds!"

"Too bad," she smirked. (Well shit, that was hot...)

"I demand a rematch!"

Nashi moved to protest, but Venetia silenced her with a hand, "Whatever you say, kid..."

"This time, we swap cubes!" He whined like the little weasel he was.

3 minutes later, the rematch began and Venetia plopped her cube on the table with a glare.

"You think you're smart giving me a faulty cube, don't you?"

"And I'm done!" The weasel had the nerve to say. "I don't know what you're talking about Venetia, I used the same cube and it worked just fine. Maybe it was a stroke of luck on your part the first tim-"

He couldn't finish his tirade because Raidyn took that opportunity to check the cube (He didn't have to though, he believed Venetia enough to know she wouldn't make up excuses.) and yeeted it at his face like he'd been itching to do from the moment he saw the turd.

"YOU IDIOT! I'LL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS-"

"GET HIM!"

"OH NO, YOU DON'T!" Nashi growled, "I'M ALL FIRED UP NOW!"

Oh dear.

Okay, maybe the fight wouldn't get too big, these were scrawny kids after a-

Yeah, Nashi Dragneel just flipped a table on them.

There goes his job.

"GO, NASHI!" His manager cheered. (Okay, thank God this town was crazy.) "Raidyn! You can take the day off, kid. Have fun!"

Storm chose that moment to enter after his momentary toilet-break. "I WAS GONE FOR 3 MINUTES, WOMAN! WHAT THE HELL?!"

"JOIN US, STRIPPER!"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!"

"YOU HEARD ME!"

Venetia, unbothered by the chaos behind her, pulled him by the arm, her eyebrows furrowed at him, "Well, I tried. But hey, looks like you still have your job. That's a win, right?" She scratched her neck, laughing.

He sighed, putting caution to the wind. This was Ven after all. "Ice-cream date? My treat for today's win."

A smile erupted on her face, "Only if we take my bike there."

.............

Bonus (That no one asked for):

"Okay, so you have to grip it right. Not too tight. Just enough to nudge it in the right direction." Venetia explained, from where she was seated in front of him on the death tra- bike.

Raidyn nervously laughed, "I've got this in the bag, I don't know what you're worried about." The tilt in his voice gave away his panic, however. She raised an eyebrow.

"Humor me then."

Okay.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

GO!!

"DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES, YOU IDIOT!!" Venetia screeched. She reached over and took over the handlebars just in time as they nearly crashed into a tree Raidyn was headed for.

He got off the bike and tripped, falling face-first on the ground. Fricking Jelly-legs. "I am never riding that death trap again." Raidyn groaned.

"What the heck?!" Venetia questioned, bewildered. "How'd you even get your driver's ed with such sucky basics?"

"IT'S A DEATH TRAP, THAT'S WHY!!"

"OF COURSE IT'S A DEATH TRAP IF YOU'RE NOT LOOKING WHERE YOU'RE GOING!!!!"

"Fight me Ven, I'm never getting on that thing again!"

"Too bad, I have to drop you back home too." The sneaky devil dared smirk at his plight.

Fricking Karma.

He wouldn't have it any other way, though.

.............

[thecasperanfamily]

can we hear the story of lin's first piercing please?

A/N: Lin is about 16 here. Hope you enjoy!

“Are you sure you want me to do this?” 

“For the last time, Jules, I’m positive,” Lin asserted, ignoring the nervous clench in his stomach as the needle in Julia’s hand flashed dangerously. “You said you know how to do it.” 

“I do.....Sort of. I mean, my Tia Dolores showed me how once--she does this often at her work. I just...maybe it would be better if you went to someone else? A-and your parents, do they know you’re doing this?” 

“Mom and Dad said I can get piercings, but I either gotta pay for ‘em myself or wait until my birthday.” Lin rattled off the list of requirements in such a way that made Julia suspect he had been told those things many times already. “...Bu-u-ut if you do it for me, then I don’t have to pay for it, and I can save my birthday for something else.” 

“I don’t remember saying I wouldn’t charge you,” Julia remarked coyly, holding the needle in the open flame of the candle on her windowsill. 

“I should at least get a Best Friend’s Discount,” Lin replied. In spite of his best efforts, he couldn’t help swallowing nervously as Julia slipped on a pair of latex gloves and picked up a marker from her bedside table. 

“Where do you want it?” she asked, brushing his hair out of the way and tilting his head up so the light hit his ear directly. 

“Everybody does the lobe thing these days,” he observed. “What if we put it on top? Like what you have?” Julia gave him a mildly horrified look. 

“You want...? Lin, that is going to hurt like...” She scrambled to find an appropriate English idiom, before abandoning the search with a frustrated huff. “...I cannot find the word for it, but trust me, it is going to hurt!”

“I’m not a baby, Jules. I know what I want, and I can handle it.” He surreptitiously reached over and adjusted his inhibitor cuff as he spoke, setting it to completely siphon all of his magic. 

“Are you sure?” she asked again. Lin gave her an exasperated look. “Fine, fine. But you must not jump when the needle goes in. Understand? If you move while the needle is still in, it will tear your ear.”

“...Okay,” Lin gulped. Julia grabbed his chin and looked him dead in the eye. 

“Swear to me. You will not move.” 

“I got it, I got it! I’ll hold still.” He hooked his legs around the stool beneath him and braced his hands on his knees. Julia took a deep breath, marked the spot on the top of his ear, then took up the needle and a cotton ball. She placed the cotton behind his ear and lined up the needle. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled back and grabbed a leather belt out of her dresser. 

“Bite down on this,” she ordered, shoving it in Lin’s hands. 

“Oh, come on, Jules, really? I’m not that--” He stopped short at the look Julia sent him and obediently slipped the folded leather between his teeth. 

“Okay,” Julia breathed, lining up the needle once more. “On the count of three, ready? Uno...Dos...Tres!”

*****

“Douxie!” 

The single, distressed cry of a small wood nymph jolted Douxie awake as effectively as a nearby gunshot. He flailed for a moment, blinded by the book that had been covering his face, before tumbling off the sofa with a yelp. He scrambled to his feet just in time to catch Nari, who had tripped over his shoes when she came running into the living room. 

“What, what?! What’s happening?” Douxie demanded somewhat blearily, holding Nari out at arm’s length and instinctively searching her for injury. 

“It is Lin! I do not know what has happened, but I felt his soul cry out just now. He is frightened and in pain!” By now, Zoe and Archie had appeared on the scene, the former with her wand still between her teeth and a half-finished gadget clutched in her hands. 

“Skateboarding accident, most likely,” Archie suggested. 

“No, I can tell when he is injured by something like that,” Nari fretted. “His aura shows pain, but it never trembles with such fear like this.” 

“...Oh, fuzzbuckets,” Douxie muttered, summoning his vambrace from where he had left it on the coffee table and slipping it over his wrist. 

“I thought he was with Julia!” Zoe burst out, her wand now back in her hand where it belonged. 

“Yeah, that’s where he’s supposed to be!” Douxie agreed, tugging one of his high tops onto his foot with one hand while the other pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Lin. “But since when has that ever mattered to--Lin? Lin, where are you?!” 

***** If there was a worse time to get a phone call from his parents, Lin couldn’t fathom it. He was trying to muffle his screams into one of Julia’s pillows as she frantically dabbed at his new piercing with rubbing alcohol, crooning what Lin assumed were comforting words in rapid Spanish, but he was too preoccupied with the apparent fire she had set to his ear to translate. 

“BLOODY FUZZBUCKETS!” he screeched, voice still muffled by the pillow. “GODS DAMMIT ALL TO--” His string of expletives was cut off by the sound of his phone going off, clattering against the surface of Julia’s nightstand where he had left it. He emerged from the pillow and stared at it in horror, feeling his heart jump into his throat as he saw a photo of his father staring back at him tauntingly. “Oh sh--wait, what are you doing?!” Julia had picked up his phone and was trying to hand it to him. 

“You have to answer it!” she insisted, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What am I supposed to tell him?!” Lin argued. 

“Anything is better than letting it hang up and having him come looking for you himself!” she reminded him sternly. 

“Touche...” Lin grumbled, taking the phone from her and accepting the call. 

“Lin? Lin, where are you?!” Douxie didn’t even give him a chance to say hello first. 

“With Julia,” Lin squeaked, tears smarting at the corners of his eyes as his left ear continued to burn. 

“With Julia, where? Nari said she could feel something was wrong. What’s happening?” 

“I’m at her house. Nothing’s happen--” He emitted a very high-pitched yelp as Julia chose that unfortunate moment to obsessively pour more alcohol on his wound. 

“MERLIN SAMUEL!” Zoe’s voice thundered into the phone this time. “WHERE ARE YOU AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” 

“I’matJulia’shousesheknowshowtopierceearssoIwentaheadandgotonedon’tworryI’mfine!” 

Why is my name so scary when she says it like that? And how the frick does she always get me to tell the truth so fast? Lin wondered, not for the first time, as silence fell between them. 

“You’re safe?” Zoe demanded, voice a touch calmer this time. 

“Yeah.” 

“And Julia’s not hurt?” He winced at this. He wanted to be offended by the notion, but he was uncomfortably aware of the fact that if he had not thought to adjust his cuff as he had, his friend could have been seriously injured. 

“No. I had my cuff set to max. She’s fine.” 

“Why in the name of sanity would you get your ears pierced without warning us?!” Douxie’s voice this time, and it sounded as tight and strained as it always did these days. 

“You said I could as long as I paid for it!” Lin countered, his cuff humming all the louder as defensiveness boiled up inside him. 

“I didn’t say you could do it without...!” Douxie trailed off and heaved a frustrated sigh. Lin could easily picture the way he was probably pinching the bridge of his nose right now. “...If you’re going to do something like that, you have to tell us,” he continued, sounding more tired than angry now. “You scared your Aunt Nari....And me.”

“Sorry, Aunt Nari,” was all Lin said. There was an uncomfortable pause. Julia had stopped fussing over his ear, and now she stood with her hand on his shoulder, listening to the conversation play out. She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, and he felt the defensiveness churning in his stomach boil away entirely. “...Sorry, Dad,” he added softly. 

“...How about we finish this later?” Zoe suggested. “When we’re not all keyed up like this. I want you home no later than seven, Lin. Got it?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled. 

“Okay.” She paused for a moment. “...We love you, Lin.” 

“...I know,” he sighed. “I’ll see you later.” He ended the call and leaned forward until his elbows rest against his legs, phone still in hand. 

“It looks good,” Julia said after a while, handing him a mirror so he could see her handiwork. “You want to do the other one?” 

“Not today, thanks,” Lin decided, feeling strangely hollow at the sight of his newly pierced ear, with its silver stud gleaming in the warm yellow light of Julia’s bedroom. 

“...Was your father mad?” she asked tentatively. 

“Not really. He doesn’t usually get mad so much as just...tired. Which is almost worse, somehow, but it is what it is. Still, I technically didn’t break any rules, so they can’t ground me for that long.” He straightened up and flashed her a smile. “I think it was worth it either way though. It looks great, Jules. How much do I owe you?” 

“Fifty-five dollars. And yes, that’s including the Best Friend Discount.” 

“Okay, nevermind. Not worth it.”

(Please don’t ask me how this thing got written in a single night while my other WIPs have been languishing for literal months, because I do not know. Regardless, thank you so much for the ask, Non! 🥴✨)

[kaylathekittykat225]

Tears in the Heart // Steve Harrington X Wheeler!Reader

Warning/s: language, angst, fluff? Flufting? Flirting? I don’t know man. I just went into a frenzy writing.

Word Count: Y’all it keeps getting going, I need to be stopped; 25k. I am sorry, I got excited

Guys, y’all are egging me on to write angst, and angst is my love somehow, don’t stop. And it’s all fine that angst is how I write, that and slow burrrrrrrrrn! Okay go onto reading.

This one was requested by gwenandtheunfortunatename

Hey!! I just love your writing and long fics!!! Can u do one where the reader is a female!Wheeler reader and feels invisible with her family but actually has a few friends in school? Nancy and Steve are dating but then he slowly starts to notice how she doesn’t treat her sister well (maybe the reader is missing from school one day?) or doesn’t pay attention so it becomes a concern for him or someth??

Here’s my Masterlist.

Enjoy.

—–

Watching paint dry was always the most infuriating thing, especially for you as someone who was so excited for the first layer of paint to dry so that you could start applying the next layer or just wanting your beautiful art piece to be done so you could feel accomplished with what you just did. Watching paint dry was an infuriating task, and yet here you were, dancing around your room to the music your radio was blasting for you while you continued to wait for the first layer of what you were painting to dry enough so as not to smudge.

Some great artists prefer to work even through the wet paint: Monte used it to blend two colors together seamlessly, Van Gogh used it to have the colors stand out more when he used the globs of paint to add dimension to the canvas, Bob Ross used the wet paint to ring out the true beauty of the world and showing how colors don’t stand out, but truly blend in together. 

You worked differently than those guys, for one thing you weren’t a famous painter like they were. But you couldn’t stand mixing colors together from different layers. The composition looked messy when you tried doing it, so you knew you felt more comfortable with layering and drying paint on top of itself. Just was not the thing for you.

The song changed and a grin grew on your face as you heard the guitar riff opening and felt a rush of energy surging through you. Your paint brush was held in your mouth between your teeth and your dancing started back up again as you cranked the volume up a little louder to get the entire room shaking. The music was so loud, and you were so in the zone of mixing up your next shade of reddish pink that you didn’t hear someone screaming at you about the volume of your radio. They noticed when your volume went up and that you weren’t noticing their calling your name. 

You didn’t notice them until they turned off your radio entirely and tried calling your name again. “Y/N.” Your name was called again, this time it startled you to the point that you let out a small scream that let you drop your paint brush from your mouth and strike the ground. Spinning to face your radio, you saw your mother staring at you with a look on her face that you often received when you did something wrong. “It’s almost midnight, Y/N. Holly and Michael are in bed, where you should be, and your sister is trying to study for an exam tomorrow. Now is not the time for you to let the entire neighborhood hear what you are listening to.”

“Sorry, mom.” You grabbed your paint brush off the ground and looked back up to see your mother had been replaced by your older sister. “Sorry I disturbed your studying. What class is it for?” While you asked your question, you worked on moving your easel from the middle of your room to one of the corners while also chucking your paints into a box along with your brushes. 

When your sister didn’t answer, you looked up at her to see her just staring at you from the door. She had this little smile on her face, one that didn’t show any emotion though. “Oh, it’s not like you care about my test. All you worry about is your art and painting. Next time, at least put on some better music, not your shitty trash.” And with that, she shut the door behind her with a flick of her hair over her shoulder as she left. 

You finished cleaning up after your paint dance, not giving too much thought to what she said to you as you pulled your sweater over your head and changed into your pajamas. Comments like that have been a common back and forth between the two of you ever since you entered high school with Nancy. 

Maybe it was something to remind you that you were a year younger and she knew her way around the school better than you did. Honestly why she was doing this was unknown to you, so you just rolled with it. She never said anything mean or anything like that, just…

You shook your head as you pushed your covers back and slid into bed, getting ready to pull your lamp cord when there was a loud thud coming from your window. Instinct told you to ignore it and just go to sleep leaving whatever outside your window outside, it was most likely a squirrel who ran into the glass of your window while trying to get back onto its nest. 

And you tried. You did click your lamp off and pulled your covers up to your chin, letting your eyes fall shut as you worked on falling asleep for tomorrow's day. As soon as your eyes were closed however, another tap rattled your window, and something was making noises outside the glass. “Just ignore it.” That was your mantra for the time being as you did so, pretending the sound wasn’t there and that you could just. Fall. Asleep. 

Tap tap tap. “Dammit.” You groaned while throwing the blankets off you, following your intuition through the dark room to where your window should be, having forgotten to send the light back through the room as your annoyed self walked closer to the window. “I’m going to kill this fucking squirrel and eats its nu-” Your rant to yourself was interrupted as soon as you forced your blinds open and you saw a face staring back at you in the darkness outside. 

A shriek left your mouth as you took a step backwards, stumbling away from the horrifying sight of someone staring back at you in the night. The face itself jumped back ever so slightly from where it was pressed against your window when it saw you too. 

The two of you stared at each other for a few more seconds before you recognized who the hell was staring into your bedroom window. It was your sister’s boyfriend, Steve Fricking Harrington. Why the hell was he staring into your window?

Pulling open your window, you looked over at your clock and saw that it was midnight, stating this to the boy who was hanging from your window frame, his fingertips turning red from holding on. “Sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, Snow White. I’m sorry I didn’t want to fall to my death.” His voice came out strained as he moved to pull himself into your window. 

“Whoa! I didn’t say you could come in! What are you doing on my windowsill? Stop climbing in my window!” Your voice was a whisper that also counted as yelling as you tried stopping him from entering your room, not to much avail though. “Harrington, what what are you doing here?!” 

“Shut up, Wheeler.” Steve finished coming through the window, somehow finding a way to trip as his foot finished coming through, falling into you and sending the two of you down to the floor. “Jesus, Wheeler, sorry to say, but I do have a girlfriend. You are being very forward though.” From where you were laying on the floor with him kneeling over you on all fours, Harrington had this shit eating grin on his face which caused a slight anger to boil inside you.

Instead of answering him, you shoved your hand into his face and pushed him away, telling him to get off you with a mutter. “Wh-what are you doing here, Harrington? It’s midnight and you are in my room. What the hell is going on?” Standing to your feet, you watched him also pull himself up while shifting his hair around to make sure it stood where he wanted it to be.

“Funny story there, Wheeler. But that is a story for another time.” He spoke to you as though his being in your room was not a pressing matter. “What I do need to know, Wheeler, is how pissed your dad would be about finding me here?” Steve craned his neck to look out your window, apparently trying hard not to be spotted as he was looking for most likely your father. 

Scoffing, you sat back down in your bed, staring at him from where you sat. “Honestly, it’s not my dad you should be worried about.” He sighed at your response in relief. “My mom on the other hand…” You made a face that got the message across, because your dad was an amazing man, but your mother had her own mind that definitely got in the way of a lot of things your sister and even yourself sometimes when Karen Wheeler brought her mind to a stop. And Nancy seemingly sneaking her boyfriend into her room next to yours was definitely not something your mom would be fine with.

You heard a quiet ‘shit’ and felt a small feeling of smugness rush through you as quickly as the cold overtook your room. “If you’re gonna sneak in and out of Nancy’s room, honestly it would be quieter just to go from my room to the shed on the other side of the room.” Steve stared at you curiously at this suggestion, even you yourself were shocked at your offering, but you really couldn’t take that back after he quietly inched his way closer to the window at the other end of your room. 

Standing up, you made your way over to be next to him as he pulled your curtains away from the window, revealing that your window had easier access to get to the ground than your sister and the garage. “Plus, I have direct access to the woods, so my parents won’t notice your car around if you park it behind that big tree back there.” While pointing all these features out, you noticed that he was staring at you with a look that read extreme confusion. 

“Why...why are you helping me sneak into your sister’s room?” You both were wondering that, but he didn’t have to voice it like that. Your face grew warmer as you fumbled for words about why you did this, because you didn’t really know why except for the excuse of not wanting them to get caught and then the entire family being forced not to ever leave again. That was a good excuse, it did the trick though. 

Because you couldn’t explain why you would stick your neck out like that, for Nancy and Harrington. Nothing against the two of them, but you were too impartial to the two of them to risk anything. 

So you scoffed and gave him the lame excuse you thought of and worked on shooing him out of your room. “Okay, okay. Jeez, Wheeler, I’m leaving. Sorry to whoever has to deal with sleep deprived you for the rest of their lives.” He shimmed himself out of the window, forgetting completely to close your other window, forcing you to get back out of bed and shut it before shutting the window he just dropped down from.

You watched him sneak his way to the front of the house and hopefully make an uneventful exit before you pulled the curtains in front of your window shut, bringing your world around you into darkness that you found oddly uncomfortable while standing in the middle of the room. 

Sleep didn’t come as easily as you wanted it to; it never really took you over, leaving you to sleep more restlessly than normal and thus a sleep deprived Y/N took to the world. Your first few periods floated past you honestly like a dream, nothing happened, just the teacher murmuring on about their respective subjects. Nothing interesting to you really.

Your mother frequently got on your case to pay more attention in these classes, because every year, like clockwork, during parent teachers week, your teachers would comment on how you needed to remember to turn in your homework, or if you do turn in your homework, to not doodle across half of it. It was always commenting about your behavior in classes and school, how you looked like you would rather be somewhere else than cooped up there all day. Your mother always told you to do better. Why did you have to be interested in painting? Why not a sport or be good at school like your sister because brains could get you a good husband and an easy life. 

Your father never spoke up during these meetings, sitting there because he was the man of the family and should be an example for his daughter to marry. He never took your side, but he also never defended your mother and her beliefs of how you should follow in your sister’s footsteps. It was never a secret, but your dad gifted you various paints, brushes, new pencils. When you were running out of a specific paint, or needed a new book or canvas, you found one more always tucked away in your closet, where you thought you checked, but there it was anyway. 

There were few things in the world you knew for certain, you loved painting and how it freed your soul, how excited you were to graduate and head to California to get away from this damned town, but one thing you were certain on, was that you were not unloved by your father. You never doubted his love even if it wasn’t on his sleeve like your mother’s love of Nancy. 

Speaking of Nancy, honestly after last nights...odd interaction between Harrington and yourself, you didn’t know how to look him or your sister in the eye. You had nothing to be ashamed of, it's not like you kissed him or anything, just the thought alone made you shudder, so why were you unable to look at them throughout the school day? 

“Ugh!” You groaned at these stupid thoughts that were plaguing your thoughts and slammed your head down onto your notebook on the lunch table you were sitting at. Your sudden noise and head banging caused the other occupants of your table to look up; Matt and Clare had been giving each other looks all lunch with how you were acting today.

On any given day you were still quiet and almost always doodling away in the margins of your notebooks or going so far as to pulling your full sketchbook out just to get a bigger picture going. But you didn’t have a book open in front of you or a pencil in your hand, instead your fingers were rapping against the hard table and your leg was shaking so bad that you were shaking the table. 

You were so out of it that you couldn’t hear your own name being called. “Y/N...Y/N.” Matt had been repeatedly calling your name the last five minutes after he finished up his own lunch and was eyeing your Cheetos that hadn’t been touched. Clare told him to leave you alone, but your ginger friend was ever persistent in stealing your food. “What if I just take the bag from her?” He directed the question towards Clare next to him while staring at your bag of snacks. 

“I mean she’s out of it enough that I kind of want to see what happens.” Clare was watching you just as intently, your head was still down on the table. “She may have died; I haven’t seen her move since her head fell down.” Clare said Y/N and died and Matt let out the loudest gasp the cafeteria ever heard; she didn’t honestly know which one to be more embarrassed about, the fact that heads turned or that not enough heads turned for this to be the first time for him to be this obnoxious in the school lunchroom. 

While Matt was busy slapping a bruise excitedly on Clare’s arm, you raised your head up and roughly rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands. “I’m not dead, Matt. I just...I can’t figure out this drawing.” 

“No, no, no, no. But wait.” Matt decided to ignore your distress and Clare’s slapping his hand away and kept talking. “But think about it! The perfect way to murder someone! What if Nancy wanted to kill Y/N and what she’s been doing is poisoning her food slowly over time and it’s finally kicking in! Nancy Wheeler is mur-” Your best friend was screaming at this point before your other best friend slammed her hand over his mouth with a dark blush over her face.

“Matthew Schafer listen to me hard and clear. Shut. Up. Now is not the time for one of your theories, especially one about a certain someone’s sister.” Clare growled that last piece out while tilting her head towards you. The two of them looked over to you as they saw you doodling away on a napkin you had picked up from the lunch line, your chin resting on your hand and your other, dominant hand, held the pencil you were drawing with. 

Your entire body was shaking from your leg, causing the picture you were drawing to be scratchy, which, maybe that’s how you wanted it to be. “Why is she shaking so much?” Matt mumbled against Clare’s hand; their eyes fixed harshly on you as they just watched. Watch their best friend unravel before their eyes, watch her get frustrated at the drawing in pen on a napkin, watch her groan in frustration and let your head fall back on the table. 

Clare let go of Matt’s mouth slowly and reached over the table to grab your arm, moving slowly to not scare you. As her hand grabbed onto you, she realized how much you were letting your leg bounce, she could feel it through your body, making her own arm gently shake. You didn’t respond right away to her hand, leading her to rub her thumb up and down your arm and giving you a gentle squeeze. “Y/N?” 

In the six years of knowing you for Clare, she had been there for your lowest and highest, she had seen you through late night anxiety, posttest highs, first time putting your art up for others to see. She hadn’t been there for everything, but she had been there for enough to help you through the rough times. Clare looked at you, just waiting for you to lift your head up. 

“Y/N, look at me.” Whether listening to her or not, you did lift your head up and met her eyes. “Are you okay?” there was no doubt that her words were filled with earnest worry, you could tell that and that she was worried about you, along with Matt who you also had you fixed in his eyes. 

The quiet moment was shattered as the school bell screamed that there was four minutes for you to get to your next class. You followed the crowd around your friend group in packing up your pencil case and collecting your trash to toss while walking by the trash can. “Yeah, just frustrated at this drawing I can’t figure out.” And with that you walked out of the cafeteria and towards the one place that could calm you down, with Matt and Clare following close behind you until they were side by side with you. 

They dropped your lunchtime behavior and Matt quickly filled the silence with his complaining about his Statistics teacher giving him homework to do over this next weekend after they just turned in a big packet not days ago. Clare filled in how her AP Chemistry teacher totally screwed her over with the test today and how he told the class that there would be no Nuclear Chemistry on the exam and yet two of the math twelve point questions were all nuclear that she couldn’t bullshit her way through and just did random math to get some sort of partial credit. 

And you listened, adding in your thoughts here and there, stating how it was unfair to add homework after just finishing one, how shitty of a teacher it was to go against his word on what was gonna be on the test. The trio of you sat down in the art class you all have together with your respective easels in front of all of you with paints also at the ready on the table next to the canvas. 

Class began, with your teacher talking about your assignment for the day, (what kind of inspiration was something you see every day?) and letting you go free and let your artistry be free. And this was when you felt something from the back of your head that you had been wrestling with all, maybe you could get this off your mind officially and be able to think of anything else other than this random nose. 

It’s honestly stupid to be banging your head over something as simple as a nose, but this was driving you insane. Honestly batshit insane because usually you thought of something and you moved quickly to draw it since your brain was already working on some details that you needed the basic features to draw first. 

And yet today was the day that you could finally say a human nose took the best of you. Matt worked on another Pokémon, last week you laughed to yourself as he got more and more excited with the orange and reds in his Charmander drawing. This week, yellow and blacks seemed to be the color he was reaching for; this will be interesting to watch from behind him. And Clare pulled out a polaroid picture from her backpack and taped it to the upper corner of the canvas, showing you the still shot of the main road running through downtown. 

You also began your own work, grabbing hold of your pencil before reaching for the easel and you let your hand draw instinctively. You started with the structure of the face, a face you couldn’t think of but felt the need to draw a face structure; maybe this face structure would help you through the nose and drawing the rest of the face may be able to get you done with this face.

Faces and portraits weren’t your forte, they weren’t what you went for. You enjoyed drawing abstract pieces, things that spoke to you, because painting people wasn’t what you wanted others to see, you wanted to paint things that meant something to you, that could mean something to others if they saw your artwork. Art for you was emotion, drawing from the human soul, passion, and you felt like you couldn’t do that by painting someone’s face onto a canvas. 

And all this nose was doing for you was driving you insane and getting your angrier by the second. This wasn’t something you felt comfortable just throwing paint at; penciling was stupid in your mind because this puts a lot of stress on the artist to be perfect, to not allow changes to be made midway through the project. So why were you penciling?

With a frustrated groan, you tossed the pencil onto the table next to you and stared at the white board in front of you, the blank one with some pencil scratches through the middle. Looking around the edge of your own canvas, you took a look at Matt and Clare, seeing them both working away at their own respective paintings, the orange and yellow of Charizard and the browns and reds of the town picture Clare was replicating. 

Your eyes went back over to Matt, watching his face scrunch up in focus as he worked on getting the roaring face of the dinosaur looking creature just right, and his nose was all wrinkled as he dipped the brush back into the paint he was using. His nose.

“Matt.” The ginger turned to you, revealing that he had a second paint brush between his teeth, looking at you with a blocked ‘huh?’ “Can you just sit there for a second, I need to draw something really quick.”

His eyes brows perked up as you picked up one of your smaller tipped paint brushes and proceeded in dipping into the black and looked to Matt’s nose for inspiration as to how to begin to shape the nose. “Are you painting me like one of your French girls? Ow! What the hell was that for?” His head changed directions as he turned to glare at Clare who just chucked a paint brush straight at his head. 

“That’s for-” 

“Mr. Schaefer, don’t make me call your father down here for spouting profanity.” The art teacher called from the front of the classroom without looking up from her grading papers. 

Matt muttered to himself as he turned around and rubbed the spot he was hit in the back of the head. “What do you need, Y/N?”

“I just need you to sit there so I can draw your nose.” Without looking at him too much, you quickly drew the shape of his nose, noting the subtle differences between Matt’s and whatever nose you keep thinking about. Things you could change when you moved on to shading and coloring the skin tone around the nose and over the black, a color you didn’t like to use for line work made things too neat. Shading differentiates the shadows from the highlights and the normal skin tone, there was no reason for you to use black to do this.

Matt made some comments about the weird request and started bragging to Clare about how his nose was ‘Y/N painting worthy’. The two of them began bickering about their noses and which ones of them had a better looking one, but you left them to bicker as you pulled pink and yellow together, pulling a little white and red into play as you mixed a skin tonish color together. Or, at least you think it looked kinda like skin tone, it wasn’t exact, but you figured it would do. 

The rest of the period, you worked hard to get this nose right, shading here and there, adding brown to the skin tone shade you make it seamlessly flow together with a speck of white to the tip of the nose. Overall, it was a pretty good-looking nose.

So why did you still feel bugged about this? You finished the painting that you had in your mind, but why didn’t you feel the accomplishment of finishing one of your paintings? There was always a sense of greatness that you feel when completing a project, and it wasn’t here. You felt nowhere near close enough to feeling that. 

The period bell rang, pulling you out of your mind and frustration as you were forced to work on it tomorrow, hopefully you can get whatever your mind is stuck on. Breaking down your easel, you put your paint and everything away before meeting Matt and Clare outside the door. “How’d my nose picture go, Y/N? I may wanna see that.”

The three of you chuckled on your way out the door, happily in your own world as you passed your sister on the way down the hall. Nancy didn’t bother giving you a glance as she smiled at her boyfriend walking over to her. “Hey babe.” She giggled as he reached down and pressed a quick peck to her lips before they walked off to her next class. 

“Hey, beautiful, how was your chem test?”

“Well I would have had time to study more of my nuclear notes had someone not been interrupting me.” She fluttered her eyes at him before bouncing into explaining how she thinks she got at least a 91% based upon how many questions she thinks she got wrong. Steve Harrington chuckled at her angry comments on her teacher and told him that she can’t be anywhere near him when AP study time comes around. 

“Babe, I know every way of sneaking into your room. I’ll always be there for you, for moral support or for a distraction. Besides, you don’t have to start studying until later next week, so relax.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. 

Nancy scoffed and looked up at him through her thick lashes. “And I don’t have time to not stud, Steve, I need to keep up.” His face visibly dropped at the mention of it already being that time of year. “Hey, I promise I’ll see you every day.” He commented on how he would hope so and the two of them made a run for their next classes as the bell was about to ring. 

-----

Through the drive home, from the passenger seat of your sister’s car, you had your sketchbook on your lap with a pencil lazily being pushed and pulled across the paper in no specific way right now. You hated pencil, as seen with the nose painting, but it was still a basic art form that helps you start on something, getting an idea for what to doodle possibly as a full piece or just something to do in an evening. 

Horribly so, after a few pencil strokes, you noticed something come forth in the picture. “Damnit.” You curse under your breath and shut the book before sliding it into your backpack. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Nancy asked as she continued driving the three of you home, with Mike in the backseat doing some math homework he should have done this morning. 

Glancing at her, you knew she wasn’t interested in why you were frustrated yet again, a mutual understanding the two of you had as she would often talk about Steve and her school work on the way home while you just let her rattle on. She was just sick of your groaning next to her, no doubt. “Not that you care but a drawing has been bugging me all day.” She hummed in response, proving your point and how she wasn’t listening. 

“Hey Y/N?” Mike chirped up from the back of the car as he leaned forward to perch his head onto the middle seat between you and Nancy. “Can you draw me a picture of my paladin if I describe him to you?” 

A smile grew on your face. “Sure, thing bud. Can I do it tomorrow?” He nodded with a big grin on his face as he leaned back into his seat as Nancy pulled into the driveway and parked next to your father’s car. 

“You’re the best, Y/N!” Your little brother called out as he pedaled away on his bike, also screaming about how he would be back before dark from...Dustin’s house? You couldn’t hear him at the point of where he was turning out of the driveway. That kid brought a larger smile to your face as you made your way into the house with Nancy close behind you. 

“Y/N? Is that you?” Not even two steps into the house and your mother was calling you for helping in chores. 

Following the voice of your mother, you found her in the kitchen with Holly on her hip and working over the stove at what you can assume to be dinner for tonight. “What do ya need mom?” 

“Take Holly while I finish dinner. Oh, Nancy, how was your test?” Your baby sister was passed on to you while your older sister sat with your mom and talked about her day. 

You looked down at Holly and filled your cheeks with air to make your face appear to be a frog as you walked the two of you out of the kitchen. “Come on, Ms. Holly, should we go paint a picture for mom and daddy?” 

“Yeah!” Holly cheered at you mentioning her being able to play with paint. Your mom may have had a good grip on Nancy and made sure she had her bright future ahead and she kept her sweet baby Holly close, but Holly ran to you every time. You “tricked” Holly into liking you because you had paints and paper she could color on and give her arts to different peoples of the family. 

The two of you make your way up to your room as you asked her about her day and she told you about how in preschool, Danny Cincade was pulling her pigtails during lunch and he wouldn’t stop until one of the teachers saw him do that to her. “Well, next time he does that to you, tell him that it hurts your hair and it hurts your feelings. If he doesn’t listen to you…” You paused before thinking about what you were going to say next as you set her down in the chair at your desk and pulled the paper out for her to begin her project on. “Well I will say that you decide what you should do when he’s pulling your hair, whether that’s pull his hair or call him a mean name like he’s a poop head, then I say you can make that choice, Holly-bell. But make sure you ask him to stop.”

Your little sister gave a surprising amount of thought to this before she nodded. “Can I have paint now? I wanna draw daddy a big and spiky porkipine!” 

You did a “surprised” gasp. “A porcupine? Now why would you want to give dad a porcupine picture?”

“Cause he was extra spikey today with his hair, and he was grumpy today when he drives me to school.” Holly grabbed one of your old paint brushes you no longer used and dipped it heavily into the brown paint that you pulled out for her before splattering it on the paper in front of her. You loved watching her paint, seeing the sparkle in her eyes, her little tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth while her nose scrunched up in total concentration at her little piece of art she wanted to work on. 

It was amazing to see, truly it was, to see someone so enthralled in their own work that they have no other cares in the world besides what is in front of her. Maybe that’s how you looked to the outside world. Because that’s how you feel when you paint, just you, your brush in the paint, the colors, and your imagination; that’s honestly all you needed for yourself to feel what you created. 

You smiled to yourself while you grabbed hold of your own art supplies and set the tripod easel in its usual spot, at this point the three legs having their own divets in the carpet from where it spends its time. Staring at the canvas, you thought to yourself for a few minutes of where you should continue going; on the canvas was a dark red background overall with a much lighter center that was meant to draw you in closer, get a good look at everything. 

In the middle sat a heart, not one that any five-year-old could draw, but an anatomical heart, you had the shape down and blank canvas towards the main junctions of the heart, with various plans of flowers in your head to put on top and within the heart. 

A heart is the garden of the body, where everything is felt, consoled, thought through. The brain is the rudder of the body, but the heart is its center, the guiding force, the heart stops the brain from going into autopilot and gives you something to do and work for. The heart harbors so many emotions that flourish and grow into beautiful flowers, flowers you were working on painting right here. Flowers you wanted others to see and appreciate. But the flowers would have to wait because you needed to work on the soil of the flowers right now and finish shading in the features of the heart and its musculature. 

 “Y/N!” You had barely started mixing paints when you heard your mother call your name. “Holly! It’s time for dinner!” A sigh mixed with a groan from your desk. 

“But I’m almost finished.” Holly whined, her slouched shoulders giving away her sadness and wanton to finish the rest of the painting. “I just need to finish daddy’s spikes.”

Stepping over to her, you looked over her shoulder and felt her smile come back onto your face at the sight in front of you. “You can finish painting, Holly-bell. Mommy and them can wait a few moments.” And she went back to painting, with a quickness behind her paintbrush while you stood over her, waiting for the inevitable second call to be heard. 

She was almost done. “Y/N. Get down here and eat.” And there it was, with your mother doing her normal drawing out the last word to warn you she was not in a playing mood tonight. 

“One second, mom!” You called down the stairs before looking at your little sister again. “Hurry it on up, Holly.” 

“I’m almost there. Just two more spikes.” You followed her paint brush, noting more than two strokes as she worked to finish up. “Done!” 

“Y/N Wheeler, get down here, now!”

You picked Holly up while she gingerly held the painting so that no one smudged it up and set her on your hip. “And that means that mommy is hungry, so we better get going, little miss Holly-bell.” The pair of you exited your bedroom and headed down stairs, where you whisper to Holly to be ready to fight mommy’s angry wrath, leaving her giggling as you set her down at her spot at the table next to your father. 

Dinner was uneventful, it was meatloaf night so the group of you naturally began arguing how ketchup was a necessity for topping off your dinner. Currently it was only you and Mike fighting hard for ketchup while the rest of your family was arguing for either no topping or barbeque sauce, but no one else understood what you meant when you said that it made the meatloaf so much better. 

-----

You found yourself standing in front of your work, only an hour or so after dinner had ended, and Holly just came in to tell you goodnight and that ‘daddy really liked his porcupine. Now that her painting for the day was done, you could relax and do your own work for the day on your work you commissioned yourself to do a little over a week ago. Tonight, you wanted to finally work on getting the flowers painted and going in on details around the actual heart itself, showing the roots of the flowers making their way down the face of the heart. 

And that is what you did for the next hour or so of your night, dancing to your music, mixing paints, and applying layers of the colors onto the canvas, covering what little white was left and finally felt accomplished that everything was covered even if there was at least another week's worth of painting to go, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t continue working at it and making the sweet ending ever closer. 

However, you did need to wait a few more minutes before adding more touches since paint is not an instantaneous drier, thank God you didn’t ever find joy in oil painting, you would have gone mad trying to wait for that to dry enough for you to move on to the next piece of work. So, while waiting, you saw the clock and decided that it was time to switch into your pajamas and get comfy. 

From across the hall, you heard the shower start up and figured that Nancy was in for her shower, since Mike was a morning showerer type of person and your parents had their own bathroom, Nancy was the only person you could think of to be showering right now. Your pants had already been switched out with pajama bottoms and you were tugging your shirt off when you heard something thump behind you. Turning around with the enlarged sleep shirt in your hands as you worked on flipping it right side out when you made eye contact with someone in your room.

“Shit!” The word left your mouth before you could think of anything other than use the shirt to cover yourself up. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Harrington stood in front of you with wide eyes. “Give a guy warning next time you undress, not that I’m complaining, but I am dating your sister and all so...” He gave a little shrug of the shoulder before you huffed and threw the shirt you were holding at him in a lump.

The cloth didn’t do much when it hit his head except giving him full access to seeing you in only a pair of pants and your bra. “Why the hell are you in my room?”

“You’re the one who gave me permission to use your room to sneak into Nancy’s.” Harrington said as matter-of-factly as he could while tossing the shirt back at you, which you gladly took and threw over your head. 

“We need to work on the timing then. You can come in when…” Looking around the room, you saw a stuffed ladybug that had been sitting on the top shelf of your dresser for ages now. “When this bug is in the window, feel free to come in. Nothing before dinner here otherwise you’ll be way too early, and my parents might see you.” You slammed the stuffed bug down before walking back over to your paint corner and staring at the canvas. Now that he was in the room, you didn’t want to deal with him or anything. 

“Thanks, I’ll just head over to Nancy’s room now.” You hummed, not really listening until you saw him out of the corner of your eye, until you heard the shower going.

“Wait!” Leaping forward, you grabbed his wrist and stopped him from opening the door. “She’s in the shower, you can’t go in her room.”

“Showering? I’ll just join her.” At the mention of that, you looked over at him in disgust and shuddered at the thought. “What? Never seen a guy shower before?” When you didn’t answer him right away, Harrington stepped away from your door and came closer to you, a cocky little grin in his face when he came into view. “Have you ever seen...a guy naked before?” 

You tried so hard to cover the blush on your face as you tried working out an excuse. “Of course, I have, I’m not a person who lives under a rock. I’ve seen a guy before.” 

“No, no, no. I didn’t ask that. I asked if you have ever seen a guy naked. As in have you ever slept with a guy?” No response. “Oh ho ho. This is very interesting. You are more a virgin than I thought you were.”

“Shut up.” You growled and shoved him out of your face, moving to grab onto your brush and palette and made a dark line on the piece of pink flesh on the heart. The dark worked as a shadow you were gonna use to emphasize the green that would be used in the next layer, making it look like the roots would be interwoven into the flesh of the heart. 

Harrington chuckled as he walked over to your bed and let himself fall backwards into your bed. You didn’t turn around and worked on pulling more life from the heart using small strokes that made them less noticeable. 

Up close you could see all of the colors and of course you could see the colors, but even with just the base layers down, you could feel pride bubbling inside of you as you concentrated on keeping your hand steady. “Is this yours?” A voice spoke softly behind you, causing you to jump and a streak of green crossed the right ventricle and cutting through a flower. 

A noise of annoyance left your mouth and you let your head fall forward with your brush dropping onto the table next to you. Turning, you saw Harrington hanging over your shoulder with his eyes fixated on what was in front of him. “Yes, Harrington. This is mine.” With a heavy sigh you resigned yourself for the night, not too satisfied with your progress. But keeping a certain guest in your room wasn’t helping you. 

Nancy get out of the shower please.

“That’s amazing.” For the second time that night, Harrington caused you to blush. “I haven’t seen anything like this before.” He reaches his hand out to touch it when you grabbed his wrist and pushed it away. 

“It’s still wet.” Your words weren’t meant to be harsh, but he didn’t seem to notice as he slowly nodded his head while keeping his eyes fixated on the painting. Noticing that he seemed to enjoy your painting, you pulled the brush back out and dipped it back into the pink. “You can watch if you would like.” You mentioned quietly while keeping your eyes on what you were doing and your back turned to Harrington as he sat back down on the bed.

The moment was kind of serene, odd honestly was the best word, odd to have someone watching you, something you checked every few moments to see if you could ease the tension in your shoulders but he still sat there watching. You’ve had Clare and Matt in the room with you while you paint, but neither of them ever went out of their way to watch your every move and twist of the brush. Even if you were in your environment of comfort and what you wanted to be doing, you didn’t know how you felt about this. 

Next door, you finally heard your sister’s door close, signally to you that she was out of the shower, and knowing her, she was already dressed and relaxing on her bed. “You...can climb through to her window now. Or you can go through the hall if you really want to.” Turning slightly, you didn’t look at him other than to see him still watching you before walking over to your backpack and retrieving your sketchbook from it along with some pencils and sat down on your bed, tucking your feet under your body.

Nodding, Steve stood up and thought for a second. “I think I’ll go through the window for now, since Nancy doesn’t know about me coming through here.” You parroted that that was a good idea while you opened your sketchbook and stared at it rather than at Harrington as he climbed his way through the window next to Nancy and left you alone again. 

Sighing in relief, you found peace again and let your pencil glide across the paper. The piece didn’t last if you hoped it would as you quickly realized what was forming. “Shit, not again.” The nose was back. 

Thinking about it, you didn’t really want to go back to our painting and decided just to deal with the damn nose...again. Until you eventually dozed off, you drew this nose over and over again, working this time only with shading and line work as you took different angles and lighting and perfecting this nose if you could say so. 

This nose haunted you until you slipped into your dreams.

-----

Today felt like any other day, started out the same, kept going the same, even lunch was the same, with Matt and Clare arguing and with a new habit that seemed to be forming you bent over your sketchbook while continuing to draw a part of the body. However, you think you out nosed yourself last night, since you had three pages full of this nose. That didn’t stop you from watching as your paper quickly filled with the form of human lips. 

“Oh, does Y/N over here want to practice kissing with these lips?” Matt chuckled to himself when he stood up and looked over the top of your easel. “If you really wanted someone to kiss, you coulda just asked, Y/N.” 

Clare hopped over to your side of the painting, leaving her own for a second to see what exactly Matt was teasing you about. “Matt, as if any girl would want to kiss you.” 

“Cause you keep stealing all the girls.” He winked at her as a rosy blush traveled up her neck before he turned his attention back to you. “Uh, Y/N, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you know that the nose is usually not that close to the mouth, right? Not like right underneath it?” 

Matt did point out the simple feature that you had all the knowledge that you were doing. You don’t know what it was, but you just wanted to put the lips there. You didn’t know why, but it was the same reason that led you to agonizing over a nose and a pair of lips these past couple of days. Just to see what happens. Besides there is no perfect face who’s to say this isn’t how this face looks. 

“That’s not where the mouth goes.”

“Picasso didn’t follow the lines of society so there’s no reason I have to.” You smiled up at him as you worked more pink into the lips without making it look like the lips had lipstick on. “Besides, I can just...see them there. This is my painting not yours.” Matt gives you a quiet ‘whoa’ as he thinks on what you just said while Clare congratulates you on managing to break your best friend’s mind and gives her a small time of quiet to finish her own piece of work before the bell rings in the next couple of minutes. 

Not much silence followed for you when you heard the intercom system activate overhead. “Y/N Wheeler, please report to the front office. Y/N Wheeler to the front office.” Everyone’s head in the room turned to look at you, giving you a look as you slowly stood up, a dark blush running over your face as you quickly as quietly as possible walked out the door and following the hallway to the front office. 

In your three years at this school, never had you been called to the front office, and seeing your mother there made you nervous to your stomach. “Mom?” You quietly called her name as you entered the main office and saw her standing there, waiting for you. Looking at her, you knew this wasn’t a happy calling, something confirmed by both her stern look on her face and seeing a shy looking Holly standing behind her leg. 

“Y/N, so nice to see you. I’m taking you home.” Her smile looked friendly to any other bystander, but that smile had been shown to you plenty of times when you had to explain your grades, or where you were later at night. This smile meant she was here to deal with business, and you were about to be interrogated until wanting to curl up in bed and just die. 

Your mind raced as to why this was happening. Nancy wasn’t here, neither was Mike, so this was only you. Get out. Get out. Run. Get away. You tried figuring out what to do, how to get out of this and the only thing you could think to do was sputter out “Bu-but I need my backpack.” Trying to get away from here, that’s all you could think about. 

“Nancy will get your stuff. Now let’s go. Holly still needs to eat lunch and we need to get home, don’t we Holly?” The youngest Wheeler looked up at your mom and gave a small nod, still not moving out from behind her leg. 

“I...but mom-” You spoke, but she interrupted.

“Y/N Wheeler, now.” This shut you down, her almost growl and the definite glare she sent at you gave you the opportunity to only respond with a quiet yes ma’am as you followed her out the door.

Matt had told you that being pulled from school early was always a bragging right as it meant skipping classes for the rest of the day. This wasn’t exciting and something you were relishing and going to tell your friends about. You feared what your mother’s temper would say. She never hurt you not physically, but she didn’t hold back with her words. 

The car ride back home was absolute hell. Not a word was spoken, even Holly was silent during the ride. You noted how you were riding in your dad’s car, given your family only had two cars and Nancy currently had one at home. Your dad would be home. Maybe he would help you in keeping your mom calm. 

“Um, mom?” You asked, trying to alleviate the tension but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Don’t. Say anything until we get home.” Shrinking into the seat, all you can think of doing was melting away, jumping out of the car. Because you have never seen your mother so quiet, she was so quiet that she was lethal; this happened before with our dad, he had done something when you were younger and your mother quietly called your father upstairs to their room before you heard her speaking. 

Your mother wasn't screaming, she was a woman who cut down her opponents with her words. Her words were sharper than any weapon, any sword, and that’s what scared you because you were at the receiving end of her words.

And make you wait she did. Holly, your mother, and you walked into the house, completely quiet without Mike downstairs with his friends and Nancy upstairs talking with her friends or Harrington on the phone. And silence made you uncomfortable. 

You followed your mom to the kitchen where she rounded the island and planted her hands firmly on the tile countertop. “I got a call from Holly’s school today.” This came out of nowhere, but you couldn’t move or do anything other than stand under your mother’s stare. Holly was sitting at the table with a sandwich in her hand and happily eating her lunch. 

Her nails began to tap rhythmically on the countertop. “Her teacher told me that she pushed a little boy off the playground today. I get to the school and they tell me the same thing, and here I am thinking, my sweet little Holly? Why would she do that? Where would she get an idea like that? So, I ask her this exact question. Do you know what she tells me, Y/N?” 

The pit in your stomach was a boulder now, you understood what was going on. And your mother wasn’t going to be happy with what you had to say. Slowly you nodded your head, giving her a response with what you knew. “Holly, your little sister Holly, told me that you, her older sister, told her to push that boy off the playset.” Her voice had stayed very level, but her eyes grew Angier and fiery with every word this mother dragon blew from her mouth. 

“Mom, I didn’t tell her to push him. She told me he was pulling-” She didn’t let you finish as she slammed her hand down on the counter, causing you to flinch and take a step back. 

“You don’t get to justify what you did. You aren’t the one who has to call this little boy’s mother and tell him why your sister pushed him. You aren’t the one who has to tell all her friends that my high school daughter is rebelling against me so much that she is trying to get her little sister in trouble. You, Y/N, are the one that did this, and I have to deal with the consequences of what you’ve done.” Her words rolled off her tongue and stung you, each and everyone. 

“But mom, I didn’t mean for that. Holly told ne-” 

“Don’t turn this on your sister because you don’t want to get in trouble. I am tired of your behavior recently, Y/N. I am not dealing with this anymore, where is your sketchbook, I’m taking it away from you until I deem it okay for you to get this back.” As she spoke, your heart rate elevated and you began to freak out.

“What? Wait no mom no! It’s a week until the art show! What am I supposed to do for the next week?!” 

You could feel our eyes widening as you gestured around the counter, trying to argue with her. Your mom doesn’t do well with people arguing with her. “You can spend time with your family, Y/N. Not lock yourself in your room all day.”

“Then make Nancy do that too! Don’t single me out, mom!” 

“Don’t bring your sister into this. Just because you are jealous of her doesn’t mean you can-”

“No mom! I’m not jealous of Nancy! You pretend in your mind that we are the same person, I just happen to be the less pretty, less academically amazing, less perfect daughter! That is not my fault that you put these stupid expectations on me that I never asked for! You can’t single me out in this family just because they are the least successful of your children! That is not fair!” 

At this point it was a screaming match between the two of you, words you were holding back were starting to come out of your mouth, but it was like you were drunk and had no filter and no idea when to stop but it was all coming out. Your screaming attracted the attention of your father from his shower upstairs, the raised voices of two women of his household worried the man. 

Coming down the stairs, your dad looked into the kitchen and saw Holly sitting in her grilled cheese with her sandwich half eaten while watching you and your mother. Looking further into the kitchen, he found the source of the shouting and quickly worked on diffusing his wife and daughter from murdering each other. “Whoa! Karen, Y/N, what is going on? You two need to calm down.”

“Stay out of this, Ted. Y/N and I are talking.” Your mom growled the last part of that phrase out without breaking eye contact with you. Ted Wheeler was looking between the two of you, he had obviously seen his wife blow up like this, but he had never seen you feed into your mother’s rage. He didn’t know which one had started and he didn’t know which “side” to take, because either way it would not work out well. 

“Karen.” He took his wife’s hand and gently squeezed it. “Stop.” He stood his ground, shocking his daughter and wife alike. “Y/N go up to your room. Your mother and I will talk about this.” 

“Ted Wheeler.”

“Yes dear?” Your father responded to your mom’s anger and responded with his usual soft and neutral voice. This was your que to leave, to go hide in your room and get away from this horrible place. AS soon as you stepped in, the first thing you thought to do was hide you paint supplies. 

Your mom threatened you with taking your art away, but not if you hide it from her. Grabbing hold of your paints, you grabbed six or seven major colors, one that you can make other colors from these along with a few of our brushes. You couldn’t hide everything because your mom would figure out that not everything is there, but if you grab only a few of everything, you would be fine.

Heart pounding, pulse racing, short breaths, you worked as quietly and quickly as you could without alerting your parents of what you were doing.

Footsteps made their way up the stairs, warning you that someone was about to walk into the room. Panicking, you shoved the bucket of few paint supplies up into a corner of your closet and you sat down at the edge of your bed, settling yourself down before your bedroom door opened and your dad stepped in, causing you to look over at him with a sad look on your face. “How mad is she?” You were afraid to ask.

“Well, you said some pretty choice words to your mother, Y/N. So pretty mad.” Groaning, you hid your face in your hands. “She was threatening just to lock you in your room with nothing in here but your bed...but I was able to calm her down enough to just keep you in your room except for meals.” 

“So, no art supplies?” He nodded at your question, to which you replied with a sigh. “How long?” 

Sitting down next to you, you dad bumped your shoulder with a soft smile on his face. “I told her we can split the idea and make you suffer until Sunday night rolled around.” Sunday was like three days away. That meant those days you didn’t get to work on any of your projects that you had. “Don’t worry, squirt. You can survive this.” The two of you sat together on the bed for a little while longer before he finally stood up and helped you grab your pencils and paints and markers as well as a small stab with taking your work in progress heart away. 

Looking at the room now, you felt emptier than the room, there was nothing in the room and that left you feel nothing inside. You saved some of your paints, but without even just the easel in the corner of your room it’s so empty and sad to look at your room. The walls had very few pictures on them, especially the one next to your window that was next to your sister’s room. Staring at the blank wall made your blood boil, boil so much that you blindly grabbed a paintbrush and stepped up to the wall as a butcher walked towards a new body of meat ready to be sectioned off into eatable pieces. Your brush worked as nimble as any scalpel, working with speed at the wall, your mind wasn’t thinking, your body was moving on its own at this point. 

And there was no stopping it.

-----

It was only Saturday afternoon and you had two small panic attacks just thinking about the art show coming up. Just because opening night was in like two weeks doesn’t mean that you could turn it in the night the show opened, everything was due this Tuesday, completed, dry and everything. Would you be able to do that by then? Your art teacher had reached out to you and asked you to enter a piece, making you now feeling obligated to enter something. And that something happened to be locked in your parent’s room for the weekend. 

Usually when you were antsy or nervous, you would draw or paint, and here you were still. A few colors and pencils but no paper. And lined paper did not agree with you doodling style of drawing erasing and then redrawing, you wore simple paper out too easily. You needed something heavier. And you couldn’t go at the walls again like last night; waking up this morning, you were shocked to see just what you did, quickly pushing your curtains around to hide that part of the wall, leaving your window open to let natural light fill the room you would be spending the next couple of days isolated to. 

A light knock at the door, causing you to perk up to thinking hopefully your dad would come in and tell you that your mother slept well, and she was giving you back all your stuff. Not that you were upset or angry at your brother when he walked in, but when you looked at the dark headed boy who stuck half his body through the door, your hope fell away. “Hey Mikey, what’s up buddy?” You gestured him to come fully into the room with you where he plopped down into your desk chair across from your bed. 

“Well, um, I wanted to know if you...you could still draw my DnD character? I was just figuring that since you don’t have your big piece to work on right now and I just wanted to see if you could do it now because you’re not busy and you said you would do it in the car a few days ago and I just think you could do a really cool job drawing him and it would be great and my friends might also want you to draw their too and that’s all up to you but if you could at least do mine that would be great and you would be an amazing sister.” His words jumbled out of his in one mess, something he does whenever he gets nervous or excited about something.

You let him ramble a bit through what he wanted, his excitement bringing a smile to your face as you saw just how much he wanted this done, even if he stumbled over his request. He had nothing to worry about in the world. Mike sat there after his long request, finally giving your room to speak. “You done talking, Mike?” You quipped, not meaning it in a mean way as you watch him cough for air. “Of course, I’ll do it for you, buddy. Can I just request something from ya?” His head nodded up and down, his eyes sparkling with excitement at your acceptance. “Get me some paper I can draw on.” He was already out the door when you said paper.

Chuckling to yourself, you went over to your closet and grabbed hold of the box of pencils you kept just in case; staring down at the bright colored Crayola that you weren’t favoring to use, but, it was for your brother and you loved Mikey enough to use these. You heard him scrambling back up the stairs before Mike rushed into your room, gasping for air as he held out some paper, he grabbed from the printer downstairs to you. You took the paper from him and laid it on top of one of your schoolbooks.

Pencils out next to you, paper at the ready, a semi sturdy workspace, you were ready. “Alright, Mike, what does this paladin of yours look like?” 

The two of you sat there for a long period of time, which honestly slipped away from you as you did your best to draw a person, since you still haven’t gotten any better at it since your fascination with the nose and lips, but you still did your best as he animatedly told you about how Elias the Esteemed stood, how he was a lawful good paladin who only did what was just even when the other characters in the party would be annoyed by his upright behaviors. 

While you were drawing, you asked him to tell you stories about his friends adventures, and he so happily did; he told you about how they spent almost twelve hours fighting to save a princess and the others thought his character was being stupid for trusting an evil goblin when a fairy offered to help them until it turned out that the fairy was evil and was the one trying to kill the princess to get enteral youth. Just from watching your little brother speak, you could tell that he absolutely adores what he and his friends do every weekend. 

There was something that just brought joy to you when you saw someone radiate passion about something they love. And you saw this in your little brother as he told you story upon story of the renegades his friend group was. 

Passion speaks louder than simple descriptions or words. These stories gave an idea of how the paladin held himself, why he swung left handed and not right, stupid little things than made you draw Mike’s character in such a way that to you, it would make him feel more alive and ready to jump off the page, ready to fight for the sake of any princess in need. 

It was getting near dinner time when you finished, though you had been done for a bit of time, instead keeping this time to yourself. In this family, quality time was few and far between, and being with your brother brought happiness to your...rough weekend. And it was quickly shattered into pieces when you heard the call for dinner. Mike quickly stopped talking and looked towards your door before glancing back at you.

“Let’s get going then, Sir Eliad the Esteemed. Let us go feast after this glorious victory.” You turned the portrait over to him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as the two of you headed down the stairs to join the rest of your family. 

You kept to yourself for the rest of the evening, but really it was the rest of your family that didn’t come to see you. Your mother and you weren’t really on speaking terms, Holly wasn’t allowed near you after you “told her to push a boy off the playground”, and your father was passed out in front of the TV. Nancy had asked your mom if she could run up to the store and buy some ice cream, leaving the whole upper level of the house to yourself and there was nothing for you to do with it all. 

So here you were again, staring at your ceiling as you twirled one of the pencils you still had out around your finger in complete and utter boredom. How could anyone live like this? You have been left alone with yourself and your thoughts for a full day and you were already ready to kill yourself. Looking around, you found yourself staring at the small stuffed ladybug sitting in your window, something to which you looked at curiously. 

It was the weekend and you hadn’t seen Steve try and climb through your weekend since Thursday evening. Granted it was only a day ago, but you were curious as to why your sister and her boyfriend didn’t take this time to be theirs and spend time together. Hmm. At least he wasn’t walking in while you were changing into your pajamas again. 

Speaking of pajamas, might as well get them on since you obviously weren’t going to be going anywhere tonight that would require proper clothing, so you pulled your pants off from the day and pulled on your pajamas bottoms before tugging your shirt off and over your head. 

“Wheeler, we might wanna consider buying ladder.” A voice spoke up behind you, cause you to scream and drop the shirt you were holding onto the ground before turning around. 

“What the hell, Harrington?!” You shouted at him, thanking the lord that you were alone on this level otherwise your mother would have stormed in here before you could say the boy’s name.

The brunette looked at you with a look on his face that you couldn’t read but you could have sworn you saw a quick blush appear on his cheeks before you remembered that you were in fact putting on your pajamas and he yet again came barging in on you. “Okay, this was your fault. I checked and the ladybug is there, so I thought I could come in.” 

You stumbled over a few words before you gave up ad scoffed at him before putting your shirt over your head. “I thought you had just died because you weren’t here last night, so I assumed I was free of you sneaking into my window. Forgive me for being hopeful.”

“Aw, come on Wheeler, you know you would miss me if I just left you behind.” He smiled at you and sat down next to you on your bed, bouncing you up and down ever so slightly with his weight being added to the bed. 

You muttered to yourself as you pushed your pencils away, “You have no idea.” And there you sat, the two of you in quiet silence, where you stared out the window at the trees next to your house, fireflies were beginning to emerge, lighting up the yard.

“Did you finish that painting?” Harrington asked you, to which you replied with a hum. “Your heart and flower painting that you had over there? Did you finish it?” 

“Oh, um…” You pulled your lips between your teeth, because he had no right to really know about it, but he was asking, but why did you want to tell him? You ignored the questions and just rolled with it. “My mom...more or less grounded me for the weekend and took my stuff away from me, so I’m stuck here without anything to work on.” He gave you a look that you only responded to with a shrug.

He scoffed. “Wow, take a painter away from her painting.” Looking over, he saw your pencils tossed onto your desk. “You any good with pencils?”

“I mean yeah, paint is what I want to work with, but as long as I can put it to paper, I can use it.” When you answered his question, he nodded before he pulled something from his backpack that you didn’t notice he had until now. “What are you doing?” Your brows were quirked as you watched him bring back out a notebook. A sketchbook actually. 

Your face had a look of shock on it, bringing him to smile at you. “Calm down, Wheeler. I can see the boredness in your eyes and I have this book. Mess around with it, I’m sure as hell not using it.” Your words caught in your throat as you stared down at the notebook that was now in your lap. 

“Um...thanks, Harrington.” You stood up and grabbed the pencils you had honestly not really knowing what to do with this newly given gift. “Do you...want me to draw you anything?” You asked.

Harrington looked up at you, a look deep in thought on his face before he turned to you and asked, “I want you to draw me like a cartoon character.” Hearing this, you were surprised at his request, even voicing this confusion yourself. “You know like Fred from Scooby Doo? Draw me something like him. All attractive and suave.” He grinned up at you, his dark eyes twinkling as he waited for your answer to his request. 

“I...don’t really do animation. I’m more of an emotion led artists and this isn’t really-”

He interrupted you. “Well then I guess I’ll be having my notebook back.” He held his hand out to you, but you held the book to your own chest shaking your head. “Thought so, now get drawing, Wheeler.” You were honestly taken aback by him sitting here and demanding things from you. 

Almost stupidly, you sat down in the chair sitting in front of him and grabbed a pencil, the black one, one that you were using in his outline. Animation was more your style, even if it wasn’t what you wanted to be drawing right now, you found that drawing Harrington animatedly was easier than real life but there was still a learning curve for you. 

You drew his face in very simple lines. His jaw came down into a subtle, but he did have a square face overall, deciding to accentuate the shape of his face while adding a slight chin to make sure he didn’t have just a square for his head. His ears were pretty flush to his head, so you didn’t bother and just hid them behind his hair. 

Oh, the hair. You grabbed the brown pencil and moved to try and find a way to translate the Hairs hair onto paper and it wasn’t working that well. There is a reason Harrington was known for his long and fluffy hair, and boy was it hard to find a way to get the curls and the wisps onto the paper without making it seem like stray pencil marks. 

You needed to tell your sister to tame her boyfriend’s eyebrows because they needed help, he was a few hairs away from unibrow. One had a sort of arch with some stray hairs underneath it and the other looked like a caterpillar. So, you decided to fix them on paper, and you gave him some damn good-looking eyebrows if you do say so yourself. Moving on, you stared at his eyes, and you finally noticed that he was staring back at you just as intently as you were, only he didn’t have a reason to be watching you. Maybe it was because he was staying still for you, but his gaze was a little unnerving. So instead of wanting to put focus on the small flecks of individual colors that made of his warm brown eyes, you grabbed the brown pencil again and just quickly drew a brown blob at the center of each eye and called it that. 

His nose was in two sweet and small motions, choosing to ignore drawing the slight crook midway down his nose. It was a simple nose, given that you knew almost every turn by now after drawing it multiple times. 

Your head shot up with your eyes wide at this, the pencil in your hand had stopped as you stared at Harrington’s nose. It was there, the nose. The one you had been drawing all week. There it was. The tweak at the top of the nose, the small button at the tip, the small and light freckles that lined the bridge of his nose. They were all there in front of you and you had no clue what to do with this new information. 

It couldn’t be. Why the hell would you be drawing Harrington’s nose? There was no reason you had ever looked at him for more than five minutes total since the time he and Nancy started dating. 

But there were the lips. The lips too. They were right there. Staring at you with all the swings and curves and pink tone with reds in it that you had been trying to copy since yesterday morning. The two of them were staring right at you. The face they belonged to was sitting in front of you and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

A hand snaps in front of your face, one of its fingers striking your nose gently. “Wheeler? You still in there?” You shook your head, clearing your brain of the fog that took you over. 

“Yeah, sorry.” Quickly pulling the sketchy book closer to your face, you hid your warm face from where he could see you and quickly drew his lips in, completely ignoring your racing mind as you drew the outline and colored in his clothes on the way down, noting his denim jacket, T-shirt and a pair of jeans. On top of a pair of sneakers that you had never really seen him not wear before. 

From the face you took time to get the feeling of Harrington into the drawing, you quickly rushed through the rest of him, producing a finished product in less than five minutes and handing it over to him. “Here you go. Sorry if it’s not like Fred enough for you, but I’m not really an animator or anything.” 

Harrington looked over the paper you handed him; his face blank as he took in everything from the sheet of paper. The anticipation in your stomach grew every second he just stared at what you produced, wanting to be affirmed in what you had done, the ever challenging part of being like you, was that you didn’t know it but you needed the affirmation of how well you did. And for some reason, especially right now. 

“Wow, Wheeler, you could open one of those street drawing stand things and have people pay you for these.” He gave you a quick smile before tucking the paper into his backpack between some of his school books. Looking at his books, you quickly remembered where you were and what he was doing here. 

“Why aren’t you with Nancy right now?” You questioned and he quickly muttered to himself. 

He fiddled with his zipper before turning back to you, fiddling didn't fit his persona. “I just assumed she was taking a shower again since you didn’t kick me out.” 

You quirked an eyebrow at his response. “If I remember last time, you were half out the door ready to join my sister. I didn’t think you needed my permission to go see your own girlfriend. Much less have sex with her if you want to.” He scoffed at your remark, you bringing a smile to his face. 

“Good to know I have Nancy’s little sister’s permission to sleep with her next door to you.” He slings his backpack back onto his back as he makes this comment. 

“Whoa whoa, I didn’t mean that wait-Harrington I didn’t mean that!” He was already out the window by the time your confused brain caught up to you. “Great, now all I’m gonna hear is them having sex.” You muttered angrily to yourself as you slammed the window closed behind him. 

Because what else would you want to hear besides your sister and her boyfriend screaming in pleasure at each other. 

Looking around the room, you saw the sketchbook sitting on your desk. The sketchbook that Harrington gave you. 

Steve Harrington. “Oh God.” You gasped out as it all fell around you. You fell back against the wall behind you, slipping down until you were seated, your brain finally caught up to you and the panic settled in. “Holy crap, holy crap. What have I done?” 

His nose. That was it. He had your nose that you had been drawing. You found the face. And you didn’t like this at all. 

You have been drawing your sister’s boyfriend's nose obsessively. And you couldn’t explain why. 

Your heart rate increased. 

Breathing became short, curt, and rapid. 

Your vision was getting a little fuzzy around the edges as you tried rapidly blinking. 

Chest was heaving, but no air was getting in.

You were having a fucking panic attack and there was no one here to help you. 

You have to remember how to breathe on your own.

How do you even breathe?

You were alone, and your body couldn’t remember how to breathe.

You were alone and you couldn’t breathe

You couldn’t alone and you were breathe.

Alothe. 

Brone.

Your panic took you over and you fell over onto your carpeted floor, passed out and afraid of what you now know. 

-----

Monday morning finally came, to your mother coming into your room and calling you awake. Last night you finally got all of your supplies back and you were doing everything you could to make up for the lost weekend you had planned to use for painting. You stayed up until 3am, until your body was shutting itself down. You had seen Harrington come through your room and go, not giving him much to talk about this time around. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted with how little time you had left. 

And when that three am mark rolled around, your brain couldn’t tell what was pink from green and you almost painted a giant line through the heart. So, you slept, for three hours your body rested and reset itself. 

And it was rudely interrupted by your mom telling you it was Monday and you had to go to school. As you got dressed, you thought through how long it would take you to finish. All the colors were on the page, no white remained thankfully, but the flowers still needed life, they needed depth so that they were not 2D. 

You could take the picture with you to school. But when would you work on it? And you wanted to keep this all a big reveal. Your teachers sure as hell wouldn’t allow you to work on it instead of their own class. 

You could stay home. But how the hell was that supposed to work? Knowing your mother, you sure couldn’t get her to allow you to stay home for a reason as stupid as a painting. 

But what if she didn’t know you were home?

An idea formed in your mind as you threw your hair up in a ponytail and walked over to your sister’s door before knocking on it. She called you in. “Y/N?” Nancy was confused when you walked in. “What do you want?”

“Nancy, I have a huge favor to ask of you. Can you please leave me here at home? I need to stay back and finish working on my painting and I don’t have enough time tonight. I promise I will do whatever you want, I will do your chores, your homework, I don’t know but please, Nancy, I really need this.” You pleased with her, throwing all your sincerity as you can into your words. 

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, her eyes darting back and forth between yours, looking for something, though you don’t really know what. “You owe me if I do this.” You gasped in relief at her words and surged forward, throwing your arms around your sister’s shoulders. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you so much Nancy. Oh my gosh I owe you so much right now. Thank you.” You held her tight in a hug, ignoring how she didn’t return the hug, but you were just too elated at this moment to care. “Okay, I’ll like get in the car with you and at the stop sign at the end of the road, I’ll just jump out and run home.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” She wiggles slightly as she wants you to release her, making you let go and rush out of her room. 

You did as you said. Wished your parents goodbye after breakfast, got into the car for a short time before telling Mike to keep quiet and you ran home. 

That was the easy part. What Harrington didn’t tell you was that climbing up the wall of the house wasn’t as easy as it sounded, and you ate dirt twice before you finally made it up to your window. You thanked your past self for leaving the window open, not knowing how you would have managed it to try and get that window open from the outside. 

But you were inside now, and all you had to do for the rest of the day before your sister got back was be quieter than a mouse. And with painting, that wasn’t too hard for you: standing on your feet without moving was something you got used to. But this time, you couldn’t just tune the world out, you had to make sure that your mother didn’t walk in to find you here and not at school. 

So, you went in painting, pulling out your paint palette and container of paints, you began working. Mixing, painting, brushing, applying the paint, you stood for hours, ignoring your stomach as it called for food around lunch time. Moving only one, and that was because you dropped a paint brush and needed to step forward a little bit. The other time was when you heard your mother coming up the stairs. 

Your first urge was to scream when you heard her. It was almost like a horror movie with the murderer coming closer to the victim and the victim had nowhere to go. Where to go, what do you hide in? Would she even come in here? Of course, she would, she’s your mother! Looking around, the best you could think of with the footsteps getting slowly closer was under your bed, because you were basic and asking to be killed. 

You dove and as quietly as you could, you shoved yourself under the bed, not realizing how cramped it would be down there, it wasn’t as easy as you thought it would be but you still were able to get yourself underneath before you watched the door swing open. Her heeled feet walked in, followed closely by the vacuum behind her, which she plugged in and quickly went to work. 

All you could do was sit there, waiting, watching as the vacuum came closer, going away, closer, away. So on and so forth, but you would hear the occasional mutter from your mom about how filthy you kept this room, and how you need to put your paints away and not leave it lying out all day. From where you were lying, you could see her jostling things around above you, but nothing seemed to give away your still being home. 

Looking around the room, you took inventory of what a bug must feel like, seeing everything so big and far away. Your dresser, bookshelves, even your backpack was massive from where you were. Crap. Your eyes widened as your mother grabbed your backpack from the ground. You were supposed to have your backpack at school right now, and it was sitting on your floor for your mother to see. 

Shit shit shit shit shit! You screamed in your head with your hand clamped over your mouth as you waited for your mom to find you, catch you, and never let you see the light of day again. Something bounced off your bed. “Y/N needs to stop leaving her backpack home and start taking it with her.” Those were the last things you heard your mom say before she turned and dragged the vacuum behind her out the door, shutting it behind her before moving down the hall to your brother’s room. 

A heavy sigh left your body as you felt relief rush over you knowing that you were safe from getting caught. And with that, you pulled yourself out from under the bed, squeezing a little bit at the hips, but finding yourself free from dust. You didn’t have much more of a thought to yourself other than getting more of the painting done before you could call it a day and finally finish it all off with a quick signature at the bottom. 

A few more hours of you working passed before you heard your sister come back home. Just in time too. You had the biggest smile on your face as you painted the last brush stroke at the bottom. “Y/N Wheeler.” You were finished. Finally! Mike cried out that he was home and then promptly called how he was heading over to Dustin’s house. Opening your door, you wanted to make your way over to Nancy to thank her again, wanting to know what she wanted in return. 

Opening your door, you saw Nancy had beaten you to it and was standing outside your door. “Nancy! I just wanted to say than-” Your smile and happiness quickly went away when Nancy shoved past you, cutting you off. 

“Why was Steve asking about you?” Her question confused you, which you voiced, asking her what she was talking about. “Steve! My boyfriend! All he could do was ask me about you and why you weren’t at school and how you were enjoying your new notebook and then he went on to show me the cartoon you drew of him. When did you draw him? Why are you hanging around my boyfriend?!”

“Whoa, Nancy, I wasn’t hanging around him. I haven’t done anything. I don’t even talk to Harrington.” 

“Then why does he have this drawing?” And to prove it to you, she pulled the silly drawing out you did a few nights ago, where Harrington asked you to draw him like Fred. 

Looking at the paper, there was honestly nothing you could think of wrong with the situation. “Nancy, for like the past week, he has been using my window to sneak in and out of the house because he was almost caught by mom. I offered to let him use my room to slip through. You were busy or something like two nights ago and he was sitting in here waiting for you to finish and he told me to draw him like Fred from Scooby-Doo.” 

“He’s been sneaking through your room?! You suggested this? Y/N what the hell have you been doing with my boyfriend in my room?” Nancy was screaming at you at this point, alerting your mother that the two of you were home when she called up the stairs for you two to stop yelling. 

You were getting frustrated at this point, “Nancy! No! I haven’t been doing anything with your boyfriend! I’m not even interested in the asshole!”

“Then why did I find you drawing his face in your notebook?!” Once again trying to prove you were in the wrong, she showed you more papers, the ones from your sketchy book that were in fact of Harrington’s face that you found out the other night. 

“Where did you get those? Nancy, that's from my notebook, where did you get that?” Your failed attempt to grab the papers from her led to her getting all in your face. 

“And why were they in there?! Why! Y/N why are you hitting on my boyfriend?! Is nothing sacred for me?! All you do is walk around this house, painting, and drawing and being a goody little two shoes! You are a complete bitch Y/N! I work my ass off for my grades, to be great in school, to have an amazing boyfriend! And you are trying to steal him from me!” She kept getting louder and louder, screaming at you and stomping her feet and making more and more accusations towards you that you didn’t understand. 

“Nancy, I know how it looks but I was just-”

She walked dangerously close to your painting, her flailing arms almost hitting it right off the easel. “You were what, Y/N?” 

“Please be careful, Nancy, the paint is still wet.” Reaching out, you grazed her hand, hoping to calm her down but she ripped it away from you. 

“Oh, is this what you care about? Let me show you what you’ve done to me, Y/N. What happens if I do this?!” Before you could react, her hand flew and shot its way through the canvas, punching a huge hole into the painting you just finished not moments ago. 

“No!” You screamed in horror, staring at the hole she hit through the flowers atop and intertwined amongst the heart. Your own heart broke and your body had no idea what to do besides just scream.

Footfalls stormed up the stairs and Karen Wheeler charged into the room. “Y/N Wheeler, what are you screaming about, that is completely uncalled for!”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked to your mother for help. “Mom, Nancy she...look mom!”

“Mom! Y/N has been flirting with my boyfriend and cheating with him behind my back! And she skipped school today!” Nancy’s face had rage written all over it, nothing compared to the absolute shattered feeling you felt. 

“Mom wait no please. I-” you tried explaining, but your mother had heard enough, and she spun on you. 

“I can’t believe I ever raised a daughter like you, Y/N. I am completely disappointed in you. Steve is your sister’s boyfriend. And I’m talking to your father when he gets home about you missing school. Apologize to your sister right now.” Your mom was angry, you could tell, but you were hoping you could argue with her. “Don’t argue with me, Y/N! I guess locking you in your room isn’t enough for you to learn your lesson anymore. Your father will be hearing about this, young lady, you can be sure of that.” 

She was gone, your mother left you in the room with your sister, going downstairs and angrily muttering to herself. Looking over to your sister, she saw she was still angry on her face, with a sickening smirk on her face. “What...have I ever done to you, Nancy? All I have ever done is try to be your little sister. All I want is for my big sister to guide me, be a role model. I just want you to love me, Nancy.” Tear tracks raced their way down your face as you stared at your sister, if you could even call her that anymore. Not after what she did to what she knew you loved doing and had worked so hard on. 

“Why would I ever love the sister that made my parents split their love up?” Nancy’s voice came out as a growl and followed your mother, slamming your door behind her. 

Your body finally gave out and you fell to your knees before curling up and letting our sobs ring through the room, screaming at one point all the pain out of your chest. Your mother yelled at you again, but you didn’t listen, you kept crying at the pain in your chest, the same pain that showed through the tear in the still wet painting. 

------

“Karen, we should talk to her before we keep punishing her. She is going to hate us if we keep doing this.” Ted Wheeler was trying to talk some sense to his wife while walking up the stairs to his daughter’s room. 

“Ted, I think it’s time we discipline her my way. You have been going too easy on her these last few years and she’s fighting back. I don’t like people fighting against me, Ted.” Karen Wheeler gave her husband a look that told him to be quiet while she did the talking, he was there to be a point of authority and trick you into listening to your mother. 

Nodding, your father grabbed the door handle into your room and pushed the door open. “Y/N, sweetie. We wanted to talk to you.” The husband and wife opened the door and expected to find you sitting on your bed or standing in front of your painting that the two of them have known you have been working on endlessly lately. 

But the room was empty. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/N?” Karen took a step into the room, checking behind the door to see if you were standing there. “Y/N, I don’t want to deal with your games right now. Get out here young lady.” The woman checks under the bed, in the closet, but you weren’t in either of those places. “Ted, I don’t see-” Turning around, Karen Wheeler saw her husband standing in front of what looked to be the artwork you were working on. She stepped closer, looking around her husband's shoulder and her eyes widened when she saw what was before her.

It was a beautiful painting. The dark background may look black for one second, but when looking deeper at it, there were the light colors of white and grey in the background, creating an open ribcage around what is the centerpiece of the painting: a red heart. The heart had amazing detail, veins and fat tissue where you would suppose it would go. Green things ran along the heart as well, but it wasn’t as easy as it was before to tell that there was a bouquet of flowers emerging from the main openings of the heart because where the flowers once were was now a giant hole ripped through the canvas. 

Karen Wheeler was rarely shocked at being speechless, yet here she was with her hand pressed to her mouth in awe at what she was looking at. It was beautiful but broken. While she stared at this, Ted had gone to the door and called somebody’s name down the hall. “Is this what she has been working on?” Her words came out breathless and airy. “It’s so beautiful.”

Ted nodded as he looked around the room, waiting for who he called before something caught his eye behind the curtain that was being blown around the open window. “Did you call me, dad?” Nancy stepped into the door confused. 

“Nancy, do you know what happened to your sister’s painting?” Karen turned to her eldest daughter, her pride and joy, before her husband could, who had pushed a curtain away to see more of what he was looking at. 

Looking over, Nancy shrugged. “She deserved it. I told you mom, she was che-”

“Nancy, I’m not asking for what she did to you. Did you do this to her painting?” Nancy looked around the room, not wanting to look at her mother, but giving a slight nod. “Nancy Wheeler! You know what painting means to your sister!” 

“But mom, she doesn’t-” 

“No Nancy! You aren’t in the right here. Y/N could have hit on your boyfriend, which I want to verify with your boyfriend, but that does not give you the right to destroy what Y/N has spent weeks working on.” 

“Karen.” Ted called over to his wife. 

“Nancy Wheeler, you are in a big deal of trouble right now and I don’t want to see you. You have severely hurt your sister and I am extremely upset with you.” Nancy looked away from Karen, her face flushed with red as she left the room, not feeling too hot that she had been turned on by her parents. 

“Karen,” Ted called again, to which she finally turned back to him. “Look.”

Written on the wall, in black paint was line after line of your handwriting. “Failure. Stupid. Y/N Wheeler is useless. Not pretty like Nancy. Not smart like Mike. Not loveable like Holly. Matt is friendlier than Y/N. Clare is emotionally stable. Stupid. Failure. Shit. Y/N Wheeler is shit. The world won’t stop. Nobody here. Noone wants me. Unwanted. Unloved. No difference. No change without. Gone. She is gone. Y/N Wheeler isn’t wanted. She isn’t going to want. “

“Oh my god.” Karen gasped again, tears prickling at her eyes as she turned away, not wanting to see anymore as she looked around the room. “Y/N? Sweetheart please!” She looked at the closet again and saw your shoes were gone. Your shoes and one of your jackets were missing. “Ted. Ted! She’s gone! Y/N’s gone! Our little girl is gone, she's gone.” Her words sputtered out of her mouth as she fell into her husband’s arms, her face and cries falling into his shoulders as he led her over to where your phone sat on your desk. 

“Hawkin’s police department.” Flo’s voice asked through the phone, she sounded bored rightly so since nothing happens in this small town. 

“Flo, this is Ted Wheeler.” He held the phone to his other ear so that his wife wasn’t crying near it. “Pass me through to Chief Hopper. Our daughter is missing.”

-----

“Y/N!”

“Y/N!”

“Y/N Wheeler!” 

“How many Y/N’s do you know, Lucas?” Mike looked over to his friend; the three of them had been out for the last two, maybe three hours, calling out your name, much to Dustin’s chargin when his voice started cracking and hurt from screaming. 

“Well I’m sorry I just wanted to say something other than your sister’s name.” Lucas called back to the only male child of the Wheeler family. “Mike, we’ve rode back and forth across this damn road so many times, I can count how many pedals it takes to get from one side to the other.” 

Mike ignored his friends' complaints as he kept calling out your name, hoping that as they kept doing this loop that you would call back out to him. Come running out of the woods. Just come home. “Y/N!”

Across town, your parents were looking just as hard as your little brother. Your mother had removed her heels and stockings and skirt for a pair of sleep pants your father had and some sneakers she found in your room that would fit. Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine that your mother would be trekking through the muddy, dirty woods, especially for the likes of you. “Y/N!” Your mother called out, moving the flashlight back and forth as she tried seeing any sign of you in the woods near your house. 

“Karen, sweetheart. We won’t be able to find her out here, it’s nearly midnight. It’s too dark for us to make a difference in the search.” Ted reached forward and gently grabbed his wife’s elbow, hoping he could guide her home. He had been out here with her, calling your name and looking at every possible place you could be hiding. 

Karen looked back at her husband and in the glare of the flashlight off him, he could see her eyes filled with worry, shame, frustration. “Ted, I’m the reason she is out here. And I want to be here when we find her.”

Mr. Wheeler nodded his head, tugging a little harder on her elbow before she let herself be pulled into her husband’s embrace. The two of them stood in the middle of the woods, a mile or so away from your house, holding each other as they worried for their lost daughter. “Come on, dear. I’m sure we can look a little longer. Maybe she’s just a little farther ahead.” She nodded her head at Ted and the two of them continued forward. “Y/N!”

Back at home, Nancy was sitting in the living room with Holly drawing in front of her while she went over flashcards for her AP exam coming up. “Nancy?” At hearing her name, the young girl looked up. “Where’s Y/N? I didn’t get to paint with her today.”

She scoffed. “What is with this family and Y/N? She’s not here, Holly.” The last part, Nancy spoke louder so that the youngest Wheeler would hear her. 

“Where is she? I miss her.” Holly said it so nonchalantly as she kept drawing on her little page. Nancy glowered down at the little girl before she stood up, ordering Holly to stay there and that she would be right back. Walking into the kitchen, she picked up the phone and quickly dialed a number. 

“Hello?” Her boyfriend's voice came through the receiver and she felt like she could smile for the first time since she got home that day. 

“Hey, Stevie. Wanna come over? My parents aren’t home and thought that we could get some alone time in.” She leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, getting a look to see that Holly hadn’t moved an inch. 

Steve took a second to respond. “Sure, babe why are they out of the house. They just had a date night.” 

“Oh, Y/N up and ran off and they’re off looking for her like a manic. She’ll be home soon I’m sure. It’s what she gets.” Nancy rolled her eyes at her own statement. “So, you wanna come over?”

She heard a release of breath on the other end. “God, Nancy. Your sister is missing, and you want me to come over? Please tell me you are calling me to help your family look for her.”

“Steve Harrington. What are you talking about? Steve Harrington you are my boyfriend, not my sister’s boyfriend or best friend.” Nancy growled into the phone ready to go off on the phone to her ear, but he cut her off. 

“No, Nancy. I am not someone who dates a girl who ignores her sister, who hurts her sister on a daily basis by not even looking or caring about her.” His words caught her off guard, truly they did because here it was again, her little sister coming back to claim what is originally Nancy’s. “Nancy unless you tell me this is some sick joke, I’m sorry but we are done.” 

Nancy Wheeler had nothing to say and was even more in shock when she heard the dial tone ringing in her ear. “Steve? Steve? Hello?” Nancy stood at the phone and tried ringing him back up, with no answer. In the living room, Holly hummed to herself as she continued moving her marker back and forth across the paper, so excited for mommy to get home and to give her a new painting of the family. 

“Y/N!” It had been hours since the sun had fully gone down and at least five hours since Hopper got the initial call. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in Hawkins, never has before Will went missing a couple years back. “Y/N Wheeler!” Hopper called again into the night, shining his flashlight around the exterior of the fence of Hawkins lab, trying to see if anything would connect another strange event from the Upside Down to you. 

The lab has been quiet for a while, so it didn’t connect why you would have gone missing. And it sounded like it wasn’t a missing persons case and instead was a kid running away from home. His eyes were barely hanging open at this point and he had used up his last cigarette over an hour ago, so he needed a kick to get him going that he didn’t have.

He didn’t want to, but Chief Hopper knew when to quit and now was the time. Grabbing his radio, he called out to Powell and Callahan on his radio. “Yeah boss?”

“I’m calling it for tonight. We will keep searching for the girl tomorrow when we get some shut eye and the sun is up.” Hopper mumbled into his radio as he did one last sweep of the area around him before he turned back around and headed for his truck. 

“Will do boss.” Something clicked in Hopper’s mind before he signed off for the evening. “You say something else, boss?” 

“Yeah, make sure Ted and Karen get home safe, I don’t need more civilians out getting lost.” The three police officers finished their pleasantries and signed off until the morning when they promised the three of them would be back out at eight am on the dot. This left Hopper to wander the woods alone with his own thoughts and the quiet around him back to his car and head back home to Eleven and some Eggos waffles fresh outta the toaster. 

Hopper gripped his steering wheel with one hand while the other he used to rub his face of the stress this evening has caused. He enjoys his work, he really does. Helping the community and everything, but the max he wants to worry about is thieves from the local pharmacy because the local teenagers wanted to get high on Nyquil. No missing kids who run away from home. No monsters. No kids who have been experimented on their entire lives. 

First Joyce’s kid, now one of the Wheeler’s daughters too. Whatever happened to kids listening to their parents and staying home? “I swear, if Eleven even thinks about disappearing like that on me, I’ll turn this state topside.” With a slam of the door, Hopper looked up to his little cabin, something he found when he was a young stupid kid and later in life would convert into a home for himself away from the life of Hawkins. Now it was his permanent home for him and his new daughter. 

“El, I’m home.” Hopper ducked his head into the door frame, looking over to the coat rack that he placed his hat upon the coat rack before making his way into the kitchen right next to the door. “I hope you didn’t eat all of the waffles while I was gone.” He quipped with a smile on his face; he didn’t hear her respond, which he was glad about since she should be in bed, like he wanted to be. But Jim needed something in his belly. 

He hummed to himself a little tune he heard on the radio on his way over, not knowing what the song was, but it was here in his head and it didn’t seem to appear to be leaving any time soon. This ditty stuck with him as Jim Hopper pressed a little extra butter into the crevices of the waffle and smothering it in syrup, the best way to eat waffles honestly. Grabbing his plate, Hopper decided in his head which channel he was going to watch tonight before he turned in only to get up at the asscrack of dawn tomorrow. 

Stepping into his living room, Hopper jumped in surprise when he saw Eleven staring at him with a straight face. “Jesus, El, you should have said something while I was in the kitchen, I thought you were asleep by now.” Eleven kept her gaze upon her father figure as he rounded the couch and saw another thing he was not expecting. 

El was sitting on the couch in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, but she wasn’t alone. Hopper nearly dropped his waffles when he saw you, passed out on his couch, your head laying on El’s lap as she ran her fingers through your hair, which was sopping wet, as were your clothes. “Eleven. How did she get here?” Jim fell into his armchair, his plate of waffles laying on his lap and his jaw dropped down nearly as far. 

“She knocked.” El stated curtly, her eyes looking to Hopper a second more before she turned her head to look back down at you. “She’s Mike’s sister.”

“Yeah, that’s one of the Wheeler’s daughters. I’ve been looking for her all night. When did she get here?” Hopper moved his body forward to see more of her surrogate daughter and you.

“At 9-4-9. Why is she so sad, Hopper?” She completely disregarded his own questions and comments and began pegging her own at him. “I can see her thoughts. She’s so sad. Why? She has Mike. I can’t have Mike but I’m not sad.” 

Hopper sighed after hearing this, he never poked into other people’s affairs, but he had a feeling he might have to talk to your family when he got you home. “I...I don’t know El.” The young teen nodded her head, her hand still running over your hair.

The group of three sat there in quiet silence, El stroking your hair as you slept on while Hopper sat deep in thought of what he should do next. He was thinking, but he could not stopwatch his daughter and how she acted around you. He saw that you were still wet, though it did seem like you were slowly drying off, hopefully you wouldn’t get sick because of this. 

Placing the now empty plate down, Hopper stood up with his mind made on what he was going to do. “Come on, El. It’s past your bedtime, bud.” 

“But I want to stay-” With a raise of his hand, Hopper stopped the young girl from speaking. 

“I’ll stay with her, El. Don’t worry.” The chief walked over and gave her shoulder a gentle pat on the shoulder as he helped guide her out from under your head. “Be careful with her, I’m sure she’s had a rough night.”

Going into her room Hopper gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, to which she gave the customary comment “scratchy” with a smile on her face as she commented on his beard against her skin. With a chuckle, Hopper shut the door behind him with El flicking the lights off herself, leaving him in the main room of the cabin. The man signed deeply as he ran his hands over his face roughly, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes and wake himself up just a bit. 

He took a rather ungracefully seat next to your head, hoping his jostling of the couch would wake you up, but you only shifted at his added weight. Jim Hopper sighed again and moved his hand over to your shoulder, gently shaking it. “Come on, kid. I need you to wake up for me.” His already gruff voice as gruffer and deeper from exhaustion as well as how quiet he was being. “Kid, you gotta get up.”

You finally started to move, letting out a groan at being woken up, your body shivering under his warm hand. The groan quickly moved into a gasp as you shot upright with your eyes wide like an animal Hopper has seen hunting before. You quickly pulled away from his hand, almost like he had burned you and pressed yourself against the armrest of the couch as your eyes greedily took in the room you were in.

“Hey, hey kid, calm down. It’s me Hopper.” He watched as your eyes came to focus on him, your eyes rapidly moving, and your chest was heaving. “Calm down, kid. You’re safe. It’s Chief Hopper. You’re safe.” His hands were in front of him, a simple signal of peace between the two of you as you slowed your breathing down and started blinking, your eyes rapidly seeming to come back into focus. 

“Ch-chief Hopper?” Your voice came out a little hoarse, surprising you at the weakness behind your own voice. “Wh-what...where am I?” 

“You’re in my cabin, kid. Bout twenty miles from any form of civilization.” Hopper kept his place on the couch, letting you settle yourself into a cross legged position that seemed more comfortable, though not fully at ease. “Wanna tell me how you ended up over here? And why you’re sopping wet?”

His comment caused you to look down at yourself, just now noticing that you were in fact wet. “I...I don’t really remember. I just was running through the woods out by my house, and I guess I just...wait, I think I fell into a creek or something before I found this place. Yeah, I fell into some creek, and it was freezing water, so I...don’t remember much after that…” You looked down as you tried remembering just how you got here.

“Well kid, you somehow made it from one end of Hawkins to the other. You’re almost outside of the city limits.”

“What? Wait what time is it?” Your eyes widened again, and you quickly jumped off the couch, making a move towards the door. 

“Hold up, kid.” Hopper grabbed your forearm as you moved past him, stopping you and reversing your path to lead you back down to sitting next to him, this time placing you closer to him. “You know you caused a lot of trouble around town.” Your shoulders sank when he mentioned this, followed by a quiet apology that he waved away. “I don’t care, you’re fine, I know where you are. Now, wanna explain this to me?” Feeling around his pockets, Hopper produced a polaroid picture that he handed over to you. 

You took the picture from him and felt yourself deflate once you saw your wall. “I forgot I did that.” Your words were quiet mutters as you looked at the words you painted nights ago when you were in a rage. “I...I didn’t-” 

“Don’t tell me it didn’t mean anything. The words are there.” Hopper had his gaze fixed on you, his body leaning towards you as he waited for a response. “Y/N,” You looked back up at him from hiding from the photo. “Are there problems at home?”

He barely suggested this, and you shook your head. “No, there’s nothing like that, Chief Hopper, sir. It’s just...it’s…” Hopper watched as you worked on your words; whether it was appropriate or not, he placed his hand on your knee in solidarity. “There’s nothing wrong. I’m just...it’s hard sometimes, cause I’m just stuck in the middle. Mikey’s the only boy in the family and he’s always at his friends house. Holly is adorable and she’s the baby and she’s cute. And Nancy…” You paused again, focusing your gaze onto your finger tracing the fabric on the couch. “Things aren’t good with her and me. I got into high school and she just...because very mean. Bitchy honestly. My parents care about me...but they don’t side with me and it isn't good sometimes. Or a lot of the times. But things are like bad at home, times just get rough sometimes.”

“I think you just described a bad household, kid.” 

“No, no, no. It’s not bad. I didn’t mean…” Your voice cracked and you moved to quickly wipe your eyes. “I didn’t…” You tried again, but you couldn’t get yourself to talk. 

Hopper sighed at watching you. He didn’t want to have this conversation, it was an uncomfortable feeling already, but if he wanted to sleep again, he needed to know. “Don’t tell me if you meant it or not. Can you tell me why you wrote all of this? I’m just here to help you, Y/N.” 

You finally looked up at him, for the first time really since you woke up, feeling your eyes starting to sting. “Damnit.” You whined into your hands as you hid your face from Hopper just as quickly as you looked up at him. Trying, you tried so hard to stop yourself from crying, because this wasn’t something you did. Y/N Wheeler didn’t break down and cry. You didn’t do that kinda thing. 

Hopper watched, he was never this good when his wife got emotional, he was barely there for his own little girl. With El, she was even stranger of a case and had no clue what to do with you. You were a practically random sixteen/seventeen-year-old sitting on his couch, crying, and he was lost. He went against his own instincts and did something that made him uncomfortable but would hopefully help you. 

“Come here kid.” As gently as possible, Hopper wrapped his arm around your shoulder and led you to cry on his own shoulder, much to his uncomfort. “Talk when you want to. I’m here all night.” As much as he didn’t want to be awake for the evening, he had a feeling he may have needed to say this. 

And you took his suggestion quickly. “I don’t always feel like that, I just-I just-I just...it gets hard when my mom wants me to be like Nancy and I can’t because I’m not smart enough, or pretty enough, or perfect enough. And I was angry and tired and...I do hate home. I hate it so much. But I have nowhere to go. I can’t just leave.”

You had no one to listen to you, not before this, but Hopper did. Hopper listened to you until you slowly cried yourself to sleep. Chief heard your voice quiet down as you kept talking until you went completely silent and your breathing evened out to where you were sleeping. He glanced over to the clock and groaned at how late it was, or early. It was way too close to when he needs to be awake for his liking.

“Guess I should sleep myself.” Muttering to himself, Hopper leaned his head against the back of his couch and worked on getting himself to sleep, feeling you shift closer to his shoulder just before he fell asleep for the night. 

-----

El let her leg jump against yours in the front seat of Hopper truck. Early this morning, you woke up to Hopper talking to someone through the phone, it sounded like he was talking to his police workers, telling them something about staying in the office and not being able to show up till later in the morning. After the phone call, he corralled you and El into his work truck after giving you a change of her clothes that looked like they should fit. 

Plus, it gave her an excuse to see your little brother, who apparently has a little girlfriend that you didn’t know about. She was smiling in her seat next to you, still not having said too much to you other than she was excited to see Mike. 

She was sandwiched between you and Hopper, allowing you to stare out the window as the scenery around you changed, watching as the scenery changed from heavily wooded forest to dirt roads to suburbs. All the while, you wondered what would happen when you got home. Because there obviously wasn’t anywhere else you would be going besides back home. How will you walk in? Will you go up to your room? Will your mom care? Chief Hopper said they were out searching for you, but you had a pit growing in your stomach where you thought how this could be a lie. 

This question was going to be answered much faster than you anticipated as you saw your house and driveway come into view in the front window of the car. El’s jumpiness intensified at the sight of the house while you tried sinking further into your chair. “Alright, you two, let’s get to the door before this rain picks up again. I don’t wanna go into work soaked.” He warned as he got out of the car with El following past him and ran for the front door. 

But you didn’t move a muscle. 

You watched as Hopper went up to the door that El was already knocking on and it opened before the Chief even got up there. Your mother had opened the door and you inhaled sharply when you saw her with her hair pulled back into a mess that you wouldn’t even call a bun anymore and it looked like she was in a pair of your father’s pants and a grungy t-shirt. 

Her eyes looked over Chief Hopper and El, who had pushed past her to where you assumed would be hugging Mike, before back to the Chief who pointed at the truck, causing her to look in your direction. The moment you two made eye contact, she began running to you, across the grass with no shoes on her feet. Rain was still coming down in a constant drizzle, but that didn’t slow your mom down.

Seeing her pursuit towards you, you pushed the door open and fell out into the rain yourself before moving towards your house and mom. You two met and her nearly tackled you to the ground as she wrapped you in one of the tightest hugs you ever received. Her face pressed into your shoulder and she held you so tightly to her chest, and you returned this by slipping your arms under your mother’s and held onto her waist. “Mom.” You whimpered into her chest, sealing your eyes shut as you fought back tears you never thought you would have shed. 

The rain ran down your head and under your clothes, but you didn’t want to think about anything but your mom’s hug right now. “Y/N, oh my…” You heard your dad’s voice before you felt him hug you from behind, taking both you and your mom up in an embrace you hadn’t felt in a long time. Opening your eyes, you saw the front of your house, the door opens to your house with Chief Hopper standing on the porch still, his arms crossed over his chest with a neutral look on his face. In the doorway, you saw someone standing at the threshold of the house: Nancy. She looked at you, no emotion to her face, just watching. You wanted to feel uncomfortable under that gaze, but you shut your eyes and came back to enjoy the safe and warm embrace of your parents around you. 

It was eventually the rain that pushed you three inside, and where your strings of apologies began. On your couch, with your dad sitting next to you and your mom kneeling in front, you started apologizing for running away, apologizing for making your parents and family and other people worried, apologizing for seeing your sister’s boyfriend. “Y/N,” You were interrupted by your mom. “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. You shouldn’t have been sneaking Steve into the house at all, but you were helping him see your sister.” She ran her thumb against your cheek, affection you weren’t used to yet or at all.

Your gaze went over to Chief Hopper, who was leaning against the junction between your living room and kitchen. He gave you a small smile and nod, almost having to tell you that it was okay for your mother to be treating you like this. ‘If you ever feel uncomfortable at home, or if you ever need anything kid, drop by the office. My door will be open if you need it’. He told you this morning while he offered your waffles for breakfast before hitting the road, the both of you remembering your admittance early this morning to him.

“Okay.” A quiet whisper came from your lips as you looked back at your mom and gave her a small smile. You just hoped in the back of your head that things would somehow go back to what you knew as normal.

-----

You concluded that you had no clue what normal was. 

Tuesday your mom and dad kept you home from school with your father running out to work for a few hours before coming back. She never let you out of her sight throughout the day, calling your name every time you left the room for more than five minutes. And every time she called your name, you knew that it was your fault, you were the reason she was skittish about you leaving the house. 

Eventually you were able to convince her that you were just going upstairs to sleep for a little bit, promising her that you wouldn’t leave or slip out the window...again. Stepping into the room, you sighed at the feeling of being able to breathe again. Sliding down against the door, you never realized how...overwhelming having attention on you was. But your room was your sanctuary and you looked around, your eyes stopping when you saw the wall next to your window, it was blank. The words you wrote had been painted over like they never were even there. 

You gulped and forced yourself to look away from the negative space and felt the wind leave your body at the sight of an empty easel stand. “M-Mom?” She came up the stairs a few seconds after you called her. “Where’s my painting?” 

At your question, she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “Sweetie, your dad took care of it.” Her news scared you, but what else had you expected when the canvas was destroyed, you could try and paste it together, but then it wouldn’t look the same. “He told me he was going out to get you another canvas sweetie, so you can paint it again when he gets back.” Nodding your head, you sighed before smiling up at her.

“Thanks mom. I’m tired, so I think I’m gonna take a nap or something.” She returned your smile before kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind you. Once you were alone, you took one final look at the empty corner before you turned to your bed and tucked yourself in for now.

Wednesday passed by with Clare and Matt tackling you as you stepped out of the car, both of them screaming at you for being missing for two days without telling them and making them worried when they heard about you actually going missing. And all you could do was apologize for making them worry. Every time anyone reminds you about how worried they were, you feel another wave of guilt in your decision. 

At least your teachers didn’t bring it up, leaving you to figure out what you missed from the past two days on your own and your school day went on as normal, with a happy break during art class until you remembered your canvas. Seeing the face that you had started, you stared at it for a second, thinking, waiting, waiting on what is a good question, but your small burst of waiting ended when you picked up a paint brush and dipped the tip into black and began the outline of a face. 

You didn’t give a fuck right now. You wanted to paint, and this face is what you were going to paint. That art period was one of the fastest ones you remember attending but still one of your most productive ones with you being able to get the shape of the face done and drew the base color of the hair down in the shape you would work with tomorrow. 

And when Thursday art class came, you were already painting before the bell rang, not waiting for teacher’s permission to get started. Colors blended seamlessly, every strand of hair stood out in a cohesive way, the skin tone was becoming less white and more colored with a light blush on the cheek to give life. The lips and nose were already done, and this left you with the eyes. 

You realized you hadn’t seen Harrington since...was it Saturday? Not that you cared, you didn’t need Nancy breathing down your neck again for supposedly cheating behind her back. But you wanted to keep this painting going, wanted to finish something that Nancy couldn’t destroy. Something you wish you could turn into the art show for your school. 

You pushed away the thought of the art show you worked so hard to put a piece in, but that’s all your teacher talked about was the show today in Indianapolis. She advertised it on Wednesday and Thursday in class and told everyone to go if they were interested in seeing different schools and their projects they had worked on. You had been planning on going all year since you heard about this opportunity back in August. And now, your plans are completely up-ended for having your own art presented there.

Instead of focusing on the now missed opportunity of the painting, you looked to what was before you and pulled your paintbrush to begin the eyes. Harrington’s warm and welcoming eyes. 

Time slowly ticked by until you had the body of the eye colored out and everything except for the eye color itself. The pupils were completely, and the iris was outlined, but you left the coloring for last. You knew the color, but not the depth. Like his hair. His hair was brown, but there were small shines of gold hidden throughout, and as his hair got to his tips, they muted down to almost an auburn color. Nothing was just a single color; depth came from marking out the darker exterior iris and getting lighter as it gets closer to the pupil before darkening again. 

This was something you stopped yourself from doing; you could stare at Harrington’s skin or hair all day and he wouldn’t notice. Trying to see his eyes, that was harder than you called for. So, you couldn’t know the report layers of his eyes, not without doing it in the next couple of days when he jumped through your window. 

“What time is it?” You muttered very quietly to yourself as you turned in your seat to look at the clock hanging in the back of the church. With only ten minutes left in class, you were about to turn around when someone caught your eye. And you didn’t stop your staring gaze at Harrington sitting in the back row of class. 

How long he had been in this class, you had no clue, but you couldn’t take your eyes of the teenager in the back of your class who had a paintbrush pinched between his fingers and working on the canvas he had in front of him. He must have felt your stare because he looked up at you and met your gaze.

You didn’t turn away yet, allowing the two of you to dumpling watch each other. From here you couldn’t see the colors you had been needing, but you could see the small smile he sent your way and a wave. You returned the gesture and turned back towards your own drawing, a warm blush rising to your cheeks as you dm cursed yourself for not noticing that he was in your class and painting obviously his face in front of him. 

In the next ten minutes, you cut yourself off early and worked on cleaning up the paint brushes and paint palettes. You didn’t get much quiet cleaning done when you found someone standing next to you in the adjoining sink. “You've been missing the past couple of days, Wheeler.” 

Harrington was washing his own equipment next to you. “Yeah...I wasn’t feeling well these past few days.” Not everyone in school knew you needed to know what happened between you and your family. 

He hummed at your response not responding for a time until he was finished washing the brushes. “What are you doing tonight, Wheeler?” 

You looked at him in confusion in his direction. “Why?”

“I was...there’s a new movie out and I was curious about if you wanted to come watch it with me.” His question caused you to scoff as the bell rang around you, forcing you to put your brushes away while answering over your shoulder.

“You should be asking my sister, not me. Besides, I’m busy in Indianapolis.” Yes. You were still going to the show, your mom and dad told you it would be a good way for you to show them what you enjoyed doing, even if nothing was there for you to show. You tried arguing this morning, but neither of them would change their minds. 

Matt and Clare had you sandwiches between the two as they asked about your painting since you should be almost done, but you still weren’t focused on that. “How long has Harrington been in our art class?” 

“I would say...he’s been there the whole time, hasn't he, Clare?” Matt asked over your head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. He’s always been tucked away in the back. Very quiet for Harrington.” Clare commented herself in his “odd” and quiet behavior. You nodded in sort of understanding, but you threw a look over your shoulder again, still curious as to why Harrington was asking you about seeing a movie. 

-----

“Mom, we really don’t need to do this. We can just go home and have a movie night or something.” This had been your comment the entire ride from Hawkins to the capital in your state. But they hadn’t listened to you and kept driving.

And with you now standing in front of the building that was advertising the show, you tried even harder to not have to go inside and they pushed ever more for you to go in. “Come on, even if you don't have anything to actually present, we want to see what gets you excited to paint.” Your mom spoke rather whimsically as she wrapped her hand under your dad’s arm and he escorted her into the building, you were trailing behind them. As much as you didn’t want to go inside, your mother always found a way of getting you places you didn’t want to be. 

Stepping into the door, you were welcomed to the warm environment of overhead lighting of candelabras, a cinnamony smell, and wooden floors that made the place feel homey and welcoming. A place you would gladly spend your Saturdays wandering between the lone pillars that held small statues, paintings on walls, different mediums of art you have never dabbled in but could appreciate.

“Come on, Y/N. Give us the tour of the place, what is everything?” Your dad looked to you with a smile. With a small huff, you looked around the room, to the other families of students whose art was on display, their art, and not your own, before you smiled back and started walking around with them. 

They asked questions about what everything they saw, what it meant, how did it look like that, why did they do this kind of medium instead of that. It was fun for you to see them so interested in what you enjoyed. Some of the questions they asked were out of your realm, like why they used more black than red in this painting, why were the flowers sculpted this way. “That’s just what the person wanted to do. Everybody puts their own spin on what they do.” 

The three of you were standing in front of a painting of what looked to be the Chicago skyline, with multi colors showing the sunset and stars beginning to appear in the sky. Really pretty painting, very simple but it caught the moment the sun disappeared behind the city. 

You enjoyed standing in front of the painting for several minutes, analyzing it, acknowledging the simplicity of the painting and its colors while also admiring this person’s work with blending paints to make three colors appear to be a rainbow. You had never been to Chicago yourself, but this painting brought you there. To your left you watched your parents move down to another display, but you kept yourself happy enjoying others work. 

“Beautiful.” Someone spoke next to you, the only other person who was standing in front of the painting with you; you looked over at the person and scoffed at seeing him. 

“You following me now, Harrington?” As much as you wanted to move away from him, you didn’t want his presence interrupting your enjoyment of a small thing you loved. “How’d you even find me?”

“I’m not following you; I just happen to enjoy looking at art. Or do I come off as too much of a douchebag for this kinda stuff?” Looking back over to Harrington, all you did was look at him. Watch him. He never answered how he found you and you really didn’t want to have him around you more than sneaking in and out of your room to get to Nancy.

“Still doesn’t explain how you got to this one.” You mumble to yourself as you found the painting now not as appealing as before and turned to follow after your parents, seeing a big group of people gathering around a small stand. 

“Wheeler, hey I wanted to talk to you about something.” Harrington was by your side again and walking over with you. His tall height allowed him to see over most of the people in front of the exhibit; once he saw what was on the other side of a sea of people, his eyes widened before a small smirk perked at his lips. “Wow.” He muttered before turning back to you. 

“Whatever you want Harrington, no. And...stop talking to me. Please.” Your heart was starting to pick up pace as you moved around the crowd, still away from him and a little closer to where your parents were at the center of this grouping.

He followed; it was getting annoying. “Come on, Y/N. I just wanted to talk to you. I mis-” You spun around, your hair and dress you were wearing flaring out around you as you turned back to look at him. 

“Don’t say that, Harrington. Me talking to you is the reason I am in this whole mess. So, stay away from me.” Something ran through you, you couldn’t tell if it was fury or anger, but a heavy emotion coursed through your veins as you stared at him. Your hands were fisted by your side and you hoped your glare would tell him to back off. “I don’t need Nancy hating me already more than she does. Just leave me alone.” Everything around you hurt, and nothing made sense. The art exhibits around you no longer were appealing; you were confused, and you didn’t know why. 

“Y/N, that’s what I need to say, if you would let me talk.” Harrington stepped towards you with his hand extended out to grab hold of your wrist and bring your hand forward. “Nancy and I are-”

“I know, you and Nancy are dating, that’s why I can’t talk to you.” As you spoke you tried pulling your hand away, but Harrington had a stronger hold than your weak pull could break. And after feeling his hand almost holding yours, you almost broke and let yourself enjoy this small moment. 

When you made the mistake of not pulling away harder, Harrington took a step closer to you, your feet were almost touching and he was so close you could smell his deodorant, or cologne, or whatever he used. Whatever it was, it smelt better than your little brother most days. “Y/N, if you would let me talk, I can tell you that Nancy and I are-”

“Why do you keep saying my name? You’ve always called me Wheeler and I’ve called you Harrington.” You took a step closer, even if it was small, and pressed your finger against his chest pokingly. “I call you Harrington because if I call you Steve, that makes me want to date you more. I want to be selfish and be the one that dates you. But I can’t because you are my sister’s boyfriend and she may hate me, but I respect her enough to not try and get with you. So please, just leave me alone.” You were practically begging him at this point, and you stepped away from him, moving to turn back to find your parents.

Forgetting that he was still holding on your hand, you groaned as he tugged you back around. Your beginning argument was cut short when you felt him press a kiss to your forehead. He left his lips against your rapidly heating up skin for a few seconds longer before he pulled away with a smile on his face. “Nancy and I aren’t dating anymore. I called it off after she…” He looked around for a second before he coughed and spoke again. “Let’s just say after I saw some true colors shining through.” 

You stared at him confused, watching him, waiting to see if there was anything you could tell you that he was lying to you, that this was all a ploy for him and Nancy to see that you are trying to steal him from her. “How...what?”

Before he could answer, you heard your name being called. “Y/N sweetheart.” You turned your head towards where you heard your mom’s voice before you looked back at Harrington. 

“I…I gotta go.” Taking a tentative step backwards, you kept your eyes on him as you slowly pulled your hand away from his. Once your hand was free from his grasp, you slowly turned away, letting the smile finally grow on your face. 

“Wheeler?” 

“Yes? Steve?” You tested out saying his name as you spun around quickly and looked at him. The feeling left you breathless and lightheaded. 

“When are you free this weekend? I wanted to see if you could draw me another picture.” His smile hadn’t left his face and neither had yours. 

Honestly you were feeling bashful at the attention and you couldn’t look at him without your heart skipping a little and the feeling that your smile wanted to get even bigger, so you looked at your feet as you answered. “I’m free this Saturday if you...wanna pick me up?”

Although you already knew the answer, you were excited to actually hear him say it; looking back up, he nodded. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll come to your window to get you.” Your name was called again, breaking the small moment and you gave him a small wave before you turned around. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad that you were here today. 

The crowd around that one piece had dissipated with your parents still at the front of it, both blocking it from our view as you mom looked at you with a smile. “Y/N. Can you tell me why this person painted these flowers with a…” Her words faded away as you came around her and saw what everyone had been staring at.

There it was. But how? Staring at it, you knew, you knew it was yours.

The dark red background, the faded white outlines of the ribcage, the heart, the beautiful red and pink muscles and veins running across the structure. It was all there. Even the big rip in the center was there. But it wasn’t as noticeable with the gorgeous bouquet of roses sticking through the hole, making the original painting of flowers look 3D now. Your jaw dropped at the sight of it being here, and just as gorgeous as you imagined it when you began working on it. 

“How did this get here?” Stepping past your parents, you went up to the stand it was sitting on and read the plaque next to it. Your name was there! “I thought you threw it out?” 

You felt your dad’s hand on your shoulder. “Now why would I throw something so beautiful and emotional away? You worked so hard on it that I wanted to add my own spin to it.” He did this.

“You...you did this, dad?” He gave you a nod, and you felt your mom’s hand on your opposite shoulder, you between the two of them as you three looked at your art piece. The piece you had been planning and working on for months now and was here, in the biggest student art gallery in Indiana. After Nancy, you never thought you could have gotten to see this. 

Tears quickly filled your eyes and started running down your face, but you didn’t move to wipe them away and instead moved to wrap your father in a tight hug. “Thank you.” You whisper to him, staring at what was before you as your mother enveloped you on your otherwise. “Thank you so much.” 

The moment to others just seemed to be a family enjoying this piece of work, a sweet moment. And it was, but to you, you have never felt so loved before. This wasn’t going to fix everything that ever happened to you in the past with your parents and your family, but this was a good start to changing thin. You didn’t need to forgive them for everything from before, but you knew that one day, just one day all the tears in your heart could be mended and your heart be as full as the painting before you. 

[schrijverr]

The Mystery of Castiel

Dean sets out to prove that his husband, Castiel, is an acual angel walking amongst man. He tries to convince his friends with his documentary. much to the confusion and amusement of fans.

Part of the Famous Husband verse, which is also a series)

On AO3.

Ships: Destiel

Warnings: None, but I’ll be happy to tag something for you, no questions asked! :)

~~~~~~~~~~

The video opened with a grainy and moving shot of a dark hallway with lights spilling out of a doorway at the end. From behind the camera Dean whispered: “I think there’s something in my house. It feels ancient, powerful. So, I’m checking it out.”

He was close to the doorway and he took a deep breath before rounding the last corner, finally showing the kitchen.

Standing at the kitchen counter was Cas, he was in his pajamas and looked like a dear in headlights when he heard Dean enter. In his hands he held a cereal box from which he was eating dry cereal. The digital clock beside him displayed the time, 03:07. His voice was gruff from sleep as he hurriedly said: “It’s not what it looks like.”

Dean screamed, then his intro rolled. It was a drawn impala that came down the road, it stopped in the middle of the screen and the drawn Dean gave a wink to the viewers, then he sped off again and the smoke was bridge back to the video.

The backdrop was out of focus, but you could make out a bunch of red string and vague pictures. Dean was sitting in front of it, his hair was disheveled and he had dark bruises under his eyes. Of course, the viewers didn’t have to know that was thanks to Jessica's make up skills. He rubbed his forehead and said: “I can’t do this anymore.”

He sighed deeply and went on: “I love my husband, I do. He is my everything, but the elephant in the room hasn’t been discussed seriously and it’s eating me up. I don’t know how to start talking about it without him turning it into a joke. Which is why I am making this video, I want your opinions and tips on how to handle this or just for you tell me if I’m acting crazy. Because I really need someone to tell me what to do.”

He was now looking straight into the camera as he said: “I think Cas is either an angel or some sort of cryptid. He’s just not human that’s all I know, okay. He has to be immortal, not of this world. I mentioned this before, but no one takes me seriously.”

The video changed and a time line came into view, while Dean did a voice over: “I met Cas in September of 2010. According to him he is born in 1990, so he should be 30, if all of this is correct and he has aged just like a human would.”

A dot appeared on the line and 2013 came above it. Dean said: “I started my YouTube channel in 2013, Cas claims to have been 23 at this time and I have footage of him in one of my videos.”

A clip played of Dean telling the camera he was going to try and drink three liters of soda in one go with no break in between. In the background a man walked past.

“I now see that that might not have been the best clip, so here is a picture as well.” Deans voice was heard as a photo of a young Dean and Cas appeared. They were sitting next to each other on the beach. Dean had a beer in his hand and cheered to the camera while Cas did a peace sign in the background, bee sunglasses firmly on his face.

“To compare this to now, here is a picture Sam took of us last week.” Dean said and another photo appeared beside it. This one was taken on the couch the viewers knew so well from live streams. Dean and Cas were sitting next to each other in this picture as well, they had a blanket thrown over their legs and a bowl of popcorn on their laps. Dean was kissing Cas’s cheek while he flipped of Sam, aka the camera.

“He appears to have aged normally, although he is still dashingly handsome, if I might say so. Not the point. Anyway, since he has aged so normally most people don’t believe me, but I’m going to prove it.”, the photo’s faded and the Dean from earlier reappeared.

“I’ve been awake for days now, trying to find all the evidence I could, just to try and convince someone out there, to hear a voice back saying that I am not going crazy.” Dean said, “I am married to an immortal non-human, an angel in the biblical sense, and I need to tell someone.”

He picked up a manila folder, and opened it. He started: “Okay, so the first thing I have is his family. He grew up extremely Christian, or so he says, but I think he’s hiding behind a facade of biblical households to hide the fact that he is an angel himself and therefor witnessed everything that happened within the Bible.”

Dean chuckled: “He’s not even subtle about it. I mean, seriously. His name is also the name of an angel, Castiel the angel of Thursday. And he has eleven siblings, which makes a total of  twelve children, like twelve as in the amount of apostles Jesus had and they also all have biblical names. His brothers are Gabriel, Micheal, Raphael etcetera. He even has a brother named Lucifer that apparently no one talks to anymore, because he defied their father and is now in prison or something. That’s not a good cover story. That’s the Bible retold, but then bad.”

Cas and Dean had discussed what Dean would say about Castiels family beforehand and they had decided that this was enough. No reason to get into more detail about it. This was supposed to be funny and dumb, not revealing and sad.

“What shoots a hole in this, according to Sam is that we have pictures of him from when he was a child.” Dean said and a picture of a toddler Cas with big blue eyes and a small frown already on his face was shown, before Dean went on: “I think that Sam is wrong. If you’re a powerful entity, you can make fake pictures of a baby-you that has never existed. But I will let you draw your own conclusions about that.”

“Coming back to an earlier point,” Dean went on, “his History knowledge. This is also weird, since he knows everything about History, in particular thing about long long ago. Which as he points out is because he studied History. And that’s fair, but it’s weird.”

He rubbed his face again and groaned in frustration: “Ugh, just let me, let me put this into words better.”

“If you studied History, you know History and that’s just how it is. But what you don’t know is suddenly everything about the ancient times, no matter how much you specialized on it, which I know he hasn’t since he teaches History and you need to know more than just one period in order to do that.” Dean said, “We all on the same page?”

There was a silence, like he was waiting for a response. He acted like he got it: “Good, so why- how can he know everything in excruciating detail about that period? And he knows it like he’s been there and he has an abnormal amount of space in his brain for memories.”

A clip played of Cas, Dean behind the camera. They were on vacation, probably, and standing in a church. Dean said: “Can you repeat what you just said, sunshine?”

Cas looked over, saw the camera and shot it a tired look. He rolled his eyes and pointed at a picture of Jesus: “I said that this Jesus isn’t very realistic, because he isn’t smiling. Well, he has a smile, but it’s like this weird serene one. He was young when he was crucified. You really think a twenty-year-old had any patience or chill? I think not. He had a big happy smile,” then hastily, “probably. I think, at least.”

Disheveled Dean reappeared and said: “Tell me that is not fricking suspicious. And that’s just the one I captured on camera. He’s always commenting stuff like that.” his eyes lit up and he snapped his finger as he said: “Like, like he did in the Q&A video we did!”

The clip played of Castiel talking about the Tower of Babel.

“I mean come on. He talked about it like he knew how it had suddenly turned, because he had been there. I know what you’re thinking, it’s a story that gets told to Catholic children. And you’d be right, it is a biblical story. Yet, Mr. History talked about it like it is something that happened, even though it hasn’t been proven.” Dean explained, “And then he tried to cover it up, by saying how it would be an opportunity to find out. Good cover story, angel, but not happening.”

“And don’t get me started on his lack of pop-culture knowledge.” Dean went on, “I mean, I got him a phone. His first phone ever, for his 21st birthday. No one should get their first phone in 2011.”

A picture of Cas came on screen. He was holding up a phone, but it was all wrong. He held in with his pointer finger and thumb, a thumb that was in the middle of the screen, and he looked at it with confusion written all over his face.

“He also knew nothing about movies.” Dean appeared again, “I had to show him everything. And I mean everything. No Disney, no Star Wars, no Lord of the Rings, no Friends, no Indiana Jones, no horror movies, nothing. Almost like he had been away from earth while all of it was made and only popped down recently, which reconnects to my previous point about the specific History knowledge.”

“Another thing is his social skills.” Dean moved on to his last point, “He had no clue how to interact with people when I first met him and when I asked about it he claimed his ‘people skills were rusty’, like he used to have them, but they had faded over time. Which would be impossible, because at that age you either don’t have them or you do, you cannot have forgotten entirely.”

The screen went black again and a list appeared: “So we now have four strange things about him.”

1. Youth and Family

“His youth is filled with weird biblical details that are so accurate or strange that it couldn’t have been a coincidence.”

2. History Knowledge

“Despite his study, this is still weird and suspicious, but I feel like the evidence I showed speaks for itself.”

3. Lack of Pop-culture Knowledge

“This could also be his sheltered upbringing, but he was already out in the real world for two years when I met him, so why he had never encountered any of it is a mystery. With, in my eyes, an easy explanation.”

4. Lack of Social Skills

“Again this could be his upbringing, sure, but even then. If he isn’t lying about his family that is eleven children and parents along with an entire church to communicate with. You still pick up stuff like personal space.”

Dean appeared again and said: “I’ve laid out this evidence to some of my friends, this were their reactions.”

It cut to Sam sitting on a chair, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Sam asked: “Do we really have to do this, Dean?”

“Yes,” Deans voice came from behind the camera, “just hear me out, okay. I get that you didn’t want to listen before, but I have evidence now.”

Sam sighed.

It cut again to Sam shaking his head and saying: “I don’t know, why you’re so invested in this. All of this has a rational explanation, you can see that too.”

“But the family thing is weird, right. It’s so suspiciously correct that has to be fake that just can’t be coincidence.” Dean protested.

“Actually,” Sam replied, “humans have a weird sense of perception about coincidence. So much happens at one moment in the world that something strange or usual is bound to happen, we classify that as coincidence, but it’s just statistics, Math. It’s very interest-”

“Yeah, whatever, nerd.” Dean interrupted, “So, you don’t believe me.”

“No, Dean. I don’t.” Sam told him, “Can I go now?”

“Yeah.” Dean sighed, before it cut to Charlie sitting in the same chair.

Dean asked her: “So do you know why you’re here?”

Charlie nodded: “Yes and I am willing to hear you out.”

“You are?” Dean said, excitement seeping into his voice.

Charlie nodded, then it cut to her reading the final notes in the folder. She bit her lip and said: “I don’t know, Dean. Some off this is pretty suspicious, but I wouldn’t call it evidence of Cas being an angel or other immortal. I mean, the church can be weird.”

“But the History thing is definitely suspicious, right? I’m not being crazy about that?” Dean asked

Charlie answered: “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me, if he had developed a special interest in ancient Christian history while growing up and if he used to be a heavy believer then I suspect he must have thought a lot about how Jesus must have been and stuff.”

Dean huffed, but didn’t respond.

There was a shaky video of Ellen saying: “Dean, I have a bar to run, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

But then Jo was in the chair and she said: “Dean, I love you and all, but I’m not doing this.”

“Please, just hear me out.” Deans voice was tired and it cracked, Jo relented.

In the end she said: “This is all strange, sure. I might have believed a bit of it, if I hadn’t known Cas. I mean, come on. He’s a dork and a teacher. He loves you, Dean. Don’t ruin that over something stupid.”

A sigh was heard.

After that it was Bobby, who was sitting on the chair. He didn’t look all that pleased. Most knew Bobby from Deans series about Baby where he would sometimes help or appear in the background and stories about Deans childhood.

Dean said: “Bobby, you know me, right?”

“I’d hope so, boy. I practically raised you.” Bobby replied.

“Exactly,” Dean said, “so you know, I’m not one to make random claims about this.”

“I do.” Bobby sighed, clearly not liking where this was going.

“Great.” Dean exclaimed happily, “Because I have collected a bunch of evidence and I want your opinion on it.”

It cut to Bobby rubbing his forehead while he read the last bits of evidence. He looked up and said: “I think you’re grasping at straws, right now. There are more logical solutions than this, but you’re ignoring ‘em, because you want to see this.”

Significantly sadder than before Dean responded: “So you don’t believe me either?”

“No, of course not, you idjit.” Bobby replied, “I walked Cas down the isle, I think I know the damn guy. He’s not some immortal. And don’t go bothering Jody about this either, you hear me.”

Then it cut back to the disheveled Dean, who said: “As you can see they still weren’t ready to listen to me. So I turned to my last resort, Gabriel. Castiels older brother.”

Gabriel was lounging in the chair, smirk playing on his lips and lollipop in hand. He smiled: “Dean-o, it this what it’s come to? Crawling to me?”

Dean sighed from behind the camera and said: “It was either you or Michael, you’re the least worst option.”

“Ahw, you flatter me.” Gabriel said with a wink, then he asked: “So, what is this all about?”

Dean answered: “I’m trying to prove that Cas is an angel, or an other sort immortal, but main theory is angel. I figured you were the best bet to get to the truth.”

The moment the word ‘angel’ left Deans lips, Gabriels face fell although he quickly tried to cover it up. He tried to laugh it off: “You’re being ridiculous. Little Cassie is a nerd, sure, but immortal. Sorry, but that’s hysterical. Besides, how else would you explain me, or the other people at the wedding?”

“I don’t know, other angels? Actors? Lot of possibilities. Maybe it was mind control.” Dean replied.

Gabriel laughed and shook his head, but when he looked up his face was completely serious as he said: “Stop searching, Dean. You won’t find anything, just love your husband in peace and live a long and happy life, okay.”

Dean swallowed thickly and shakily said: “Okay.”

Then it cut back to Dean from before, who said: “As you can see, he wasn’t very helpful. Although he did kind of scare me, the guy nearly threatened me, but he also made Cas more suspicious. He’s hiding something, I can feel it.”

“Anyway, none of my outside resources were helpful, so it’s time to look at our subject himself, Cas.” Dean said and the screen warped to a vlog.

It was filmed in such a way that it was obvious that Dean was trying to be stealthy. It showed Castiel doing the dishes, after a second Dean asked: “Why don’t you use the dishwasher, sunshine?”

Cas looked around and shrugged: “I don’t trust it, Dean. Machinery doesn’t seem to like me and I have not come to an agreement with the dishwasher yet, maybe later.”

Dean laughed: “The dishwasher is not a businessman, Cas. Here I’ll load it in.”

Then it changed to the living room, specifically the couch. It was a solid couch, easily a 1000 pounds. Dean yelled: “Caaaaas!”

From the distance came: “What is it, Dean?”, along with footsteps.

“I dropped my phone and accidentally kicked it under the couch. Can you help me?” Dean answered.

Cas looked at the couch and nodded. First he tried to fit his hand under and swipe the phone out from underneath it, but when that didn’t work, he grabbed the underside of the couch and lifted it as he told Dean to grab his phone, which he did.

Dean smirked at him and said: “Wow, Cas, very sexy. Have you been going to the gym lately?”

He only got an eyeroll in return along with a quick kiss, before Cas disappeared.

What the viewers didn’t get to see was the small carjack that had been carefully edited out, along with Sam, who had operated it.

Then it was Dean running up to Cas, yelling: “Smile, angel!”

Castiel turned to him like a deer in headlights and blinked heavily when the flash nearly blinded him. What was peculiar about this moment was the fact that his eyes seemed to glow an intense light blue, almost as if he was illuminated from the inside, which had been an easy edit, but it looked very cool, if Dean was being honest.

After that Dean said: “I showed these clips, along with a few others that are, admittedly, less convincing to my friends.” followed by a quick compilation of Sam, Charlie, Jo and Bobby shaking their heads and telling him he was an idiot or other variations thereof, “As you can see, they were still unconvinced.” Dean finished.

“They were unconvinced, what I have set out to do isn’t achieved. They aren’t listening and they aren’t seeing the truth. I know what I see, I know what Cas is. And they are just blind for the truth.” Dean told the audience, “So, I’m trusting you to open your eyes and see what is out there. Please, look at this and see the truth.”

Then it went to the endcard. Dean waved and said: “That was it for today. I hope you can support me and tell me that I’m not crazy. If you do, comment about it, like this video, share it to get the word out. Maybe subscribe and ring that bell, so you won’t miss out on any updates about it. Bye Hunters, see you on the-”

He was cut of by the slam of a door. He startled and looked over, but before he could get over the shock the lights overhead exploded and the room went dark. You could hear the heavy and angry voice of Castiel, who bellowed: “Dean Winchester, you have not listened to the warning Gabriel gave you. Your time has come.”

Then the video ended.

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

Oh my god is he okay?!!!?!?!?!

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

Pff anyone who believes this

shit is an idiot

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

I know this is probably fake,

but I’m scared now

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

Don’t lie, who’s been a fan of

Dean since day one?

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

Okay, but are we gonna talk

about Gabriel???

No?

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

You’re not crazy Dean. I once

saw a ghost. The supernatural

is out there and Castiel can be

who you say he is. We don’t

know what the paranormal has

in store for us. Keep believing,

keep fighting!

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

Dudes, if he had time to edit and

upload it then he’s prbbly fine

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

Should we call the police??

Is he ok???

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

Dean be looking like a raccoon

and still be hella fine

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

Cass talking about Jesus is such

a mood, my Christian ass can

relate

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

IS HE DEAD?? DID DEAN JUST DIE!!! HELLO??? ANSWERS PLEASE!!!

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

Really? After all the sweet and

loving Cas content we got, we’re

supposed to believe this??

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

Get yo self a man whos willing

to make a fake docu bout you

pretending to believe youre an

actual angel

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

~

Dean was grinning as he scrolled through the comments on his latest videos. He was quite proud of it honestly and was very happy with how it had turned out and the reaction of the fans. Cas saw him smiling and asked: “So I take it, it went well.”

Looking up Dean said: “Yeah, you might have to answer some questions tomorrow, if you want those kids to trust you after ‘murdering me’.”

Cas groaned, but couldn’t suppress the smile and fond eyeroll.

Then the phone rang, Dean looked at the screen with surprise, but smiled when he saw who was calling. It was Sam, the picture of him sleeping with a plastic spoon in his mouth lighting up the screen. He picked up: “Heya, Sammy.”

Sam answered: “Dean, come save me.”

“What is it?” Dean asked, serious brother mode instantly activated.

But it was lost with Sams answer: “I know you’re trying to sell the whole ‘I got murdered by my own husband who is an angel’-stick, but you’re fans are worried and mobbing me on Twitter demanding answers.”

Dean laughed and relayed what Sam had said to Cas, who also chuckled. Then Dean turned back and said: “I’ll do something about it.”

“Somehow that’s not very comforting.” Sam said.

“Don’t worry about it, Sammy.”

“That isn’t helping.”

“I said don’t worry about it.”

“Dean? … Dean! … Dean!”

Dean hung up and turned to Cas as he asked: “Would you mind filming me?”

An hour later a video was posted on Deans Twitter and Instagram. It was off Cas walking into the living room, where an unharmed Dean was sat on the couch. Cas said: “Hello, Dean.”

Dean looked his way and smiled: “Hey, angel. What’s up? Why are you filming?”

Cas replied: “Some off your fans were worried about you after your last video, so I’m showing them you’re okay.”

Dean frowned and asked: “Why would they worry about me? It was just a dumb video doing Just Dance, not flattering, but hardly worrisome.”

“Don’t you remember your funny little video about me and some conspiracy?” Castiel asked, way too innocently.

Dean frown deepened and he looked confused and he said: “What are you even talking about?”

“Nothing, it was all just silly. Don’t worry about okay?” Cas answered, still holding onto that innocent voice.

Dean smiled at him and said: “Whatever you say, sunshine.”

Then it was over, needless to say that fans weren’t reassured, neither were the kids at school the next day, when Cas pretended he had no idea what they were talking about and shut them down the moment they tried to show him the video on their phones.

@Deanmustbeprotected posted about it on their Insta and multiple conspiracies were posted on every platform.

Dean and Cas along with everyone they’d gotten involved watched from the sidelines with amusement. Mission accomplished!

[janetbrown711]

I cherish these times when it is just you and me.“-Turaco

Louie waited on the plane for what felt like forever, which concerned him because that wasn’t what Huey promised. He had said that he’d barely be alone for a second, that mom and Hazel and Lucy would be out before he knew it, and then so would the others once they made their escape. And he knew he wasn’t going crazy because he watched the clock, and actual hours passed by. 

That was bad. 

That was very bad. 

Eventually, he realized it was undeniable that his family was in big trouble and that meant he was going to have to go save them, no matter how hard he tried to deny it at first. He was going to have to break in, and rescue everyone. But first, he had to come up with a plan. 

He crept over to the window and noticed that there were two robot guards stationed at the door but they appeared to be at rest since their eyes weren’t lit and they didn’t seem on edge. He looked at the door and noticed it needed a key, which the robots had. 

Step one would be to take out the robots and take the key to begin sneaking around the facility. 

He then went back to the bag of Webby’s gear he had brought from the house. Leftover was a gun of sorts, a taser, walkie talkies, a file, and some handcuffs. He then put on another hoodie that was lying around (since Dewey had taken his own favorite hoodie, he thought it was fair to take one that was just lying around) and, figuring he could use all of them, he stuffed them into the hoodie’s pocket. He also put on some shades to hide his face. 

Step two would be to free Webby, his brothers, and his mom so they could all search for the kids together and take down Turaco if (more like when she found out they escaped), 

Step three would then be to run off to the plane and fly probably to a hospital depending on how much everyone had got hurt by then.

Hopefully, there’d be no need for step four. 

Louie closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was good at planning, that was his whole thing, but he still couldn’t help but feel nervous, but he knew the more he delayed the more time Turaco had to torture those he loved with the same techniques she had done to him, and even though he was scared, he wasn’t going to let her hurt his family like that. 

He took another breath in and out and opened the plane’s hatch. As he expected, the robots twitched to life and began walking toward the plane. They rolled in and began to inspect the place when Louie shot both of them with the Webby’s apparently laser gun several, several times (he wasn’t a good shot) until they were as dead as could be. 

“Well that was easier than expected,” He nodded and took the card off of the smoking robot. He left the plane, putting the hatch up again. He put his hood on and scanned himself into the building. 

To his surprise, and honest confusion as to why, there were signs everywhere that pointed out every room in the building. Figuring that was likely his best shot, he followed the signs that pointed to the prison, checking every corner for guards, but it seemed they were all gone. 

That wasn’t a good sign either, but he elected to ignore the nervous feeling and just stick to his plan. 

However, he was making his way around a corner, before he noticed almost all the guards were all filing into a room. He ducked back to make sure he wasn’t noticed. He looked behind him cautiously when he heard Dewey shouting something at the robots until he was cut off by the door slamming shut. 

Shit. 

He tried to think of some way he could try and rescue his brother, but he knew he was just some dumbass pretending to be a spy and that he’d quickly be overpowered and Turaco would realize she had the wrong guy and would probably kill him, which he didn’t want. 

Instead, he kept onward towards the cell, apologizing a million times for abandoning Dewey but knowing he had to keep going. 

Finally, he made his way into the prison, which was a lot larger than he originally thought, since when he entered most were empty. He wandered through the maze of empty cells before he stumbled on-

“D-daddy..?” Lucy head perked up at the sight of him entering the hall. She shook Hazel, who was asleep on the ground next to her until she gathered enough strength to lift her head. 

“Lucy!” Louie threw caution to the wind and ran down to their cell. 

“U-uncle Louie? I-is that you?” Hazel asked, sitting up. He nodded, tears beginning to well up in his eyes, but he fought them to try to remain focused. 

“I’m gonna get you two out of here. Stand back, I’m going to shoot the door open,” he ordered. Lucy nodded and dragged Hazel away from the door (something bad had clearly happened to her, but he didn’t know what yet). he pointed the laser gun, and the lock fell apart and the cell door flew open. Louie ran in and gave Lucy the tightest hug he could muster. 

“I-i missed you s-s-so mu-much,” she sobbed.

“I missed you too pumpkin,” He kissed her head. “But we don’t have much time. We need to find mom, your uncles, and your grandma. Hazel, do you have any idea where they are?” he asked. 

“N-no, Dad can’t be here. I-it’s a trap, if he’s here then sh-she’s gonna kill him,” Hazel shook her head. 

“Hazel, it’s gonna be okay. We’re going to find him and then get out of here, okay? I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to him,” Louie promised. 

“...I can’t go with you... I’m pretty sure my ankle is broken,” She sniffled. “A-and I feel really dizzy... I’m pretty sure I have a concussion s-since I hit my head eariler...”

Shit. 

“...are you okay with me leaving you here? I need to find the others, once we get your dad and Webs and grandma, it’ll be okay. They’ll be right here,” Louie asked. 

“O-okay... but take Lucy with you. I-i can’t protect her like this...” she said. 

“You’re doing great, just hang in there,” Louie bit his lower lip before picking up Lucy and running off to go find the others. It was quite a number of twists and turns before he was able to find them. 

“Louie!” Della shouted and waved for him. 

“Lucy!!!” Webby jumped up from the ground. A robot-guard sprung to life but Louie shot it several times until it was lifeless. He then went to each cells lock and shot them open; first was Della, then Huey, then Webby. Webby ran out fo the cell and Louie set Lucy on the ground and Webby hugged her daughter as tight as possible (which was tighter than Louie had). 

“Do you know where Hazel is?” Huey asked, noticing she wasn’t there. 

“Two lefts, one right, then another left. Her ankles broken, so she couldn’t follow me. You and Mom should go for her,” Louie instructed, handing Huey a walkie talkie. Huey took it and they ran off. 

“Looks like it’s just you and me to save Dewey,” Louie said. 

“You know where he is?” Webby asked, picking Lucy up as Lucy then nuzzled her head on her mother’s shoulder. 

“Yep. Do you know why he was taken? And what happened to the original plan?” Louie asked as they began to run. 

“What can I say? Turaco plays dirty, and they took my gear” Webby shrugged. They turned a corner and he shot down more guards as they made their way to Dewey. 

“We should’ve given Lucy to Huey,” Webby face palmed internally as they ran.

“Too late now. She’ll be fine, We’ll just... leave her outside,” Louie realized his mistake too, but he was right: there wasn’t anything they could do about it now. They made one stop to pick up Webby’s crossbow that she had arrived with (how she managed to fit it in her pockets still baffled him) and they continued on their way to find Dewey and save him. 

 After quite the number of twists and turns, they were right outside the room, and after Webby set Lucy down and she went behind Louie, Louie had to stop Webby from just bursting in a frick ton of robots and Turaco of all people. 

“You do know there’s like... a frick ton of guards in there, right?” Louie asked. 

“No, but I got this,” she cracked her knuckles. 

“Webs-”

“Lou, I got this. I practically tore up those things apart with my bare fists the first time,” Webby said. 

“And you’re sure you won’t need my help?” Louie raised an eyebrow. 

“Yes, now go to the plane. I got my crossbow. I can handle this,” she kissed his cheek. 

“Fine, but take this too,” Louie handed her the laser gun. Webby and Louie shared a real kiss and Webby then burst the door open and began to do her thing. Louie then began to run back out, Lucy running beside him (she was quite the runner) when he heard a guard behind him so he took Lucy’s hand and they ran into a dark room and waited for it to pass. However, a single light turned on and Louie ordered for Lucy to look for cover and she hid under a desk when a familiar laugh sent chills down his spine. 

“Well well well... if it isn’t my favorite pretty boy.”

Turaco. 

 “I was wondering when you’d show up. I  cherish these times when it’s just you and me. Your brothers were really convinced they had me tricked when they tried to swap you with that arrogant loudmouth,” She said, walking towards him. He found himself backing up involuntarily until he hit the desk Lucy was hiding under and couldn’t move back. 

“it’s funny how your cowardice hasn’t changed a bit after all these years. It’s truly pathetic,” She pulled out a knife and lunged at him when suddenly, Lucy jumped off the wall, doing a backflip and was now holding Turaco in a chokehold. 

“No one messes with my daddy!” she was actually succeeding at choking her. Louie was filled with pride and fear all at the same time. However, Turaco began to start fighting back and she eventually flung Lucy to the ground and there was a loud crack followed by Lucy yelping in pain, which filled Louie with rage so he pulled out the taser and held it to her neck for five seconds, which caused her to fall to the ground, and lose all control of her muscles. He then handcuffed her, and then ran over to Lucy. 

“Lucy, that was- I just- nevermind. What hurts?” Louie figured now was not the time for a scolding. 

“M-my a-arm,” She said between sobs. Louie nodded and picked her up as carefully as he could and proceeded to run out of there. 

“Louie- Turaco wasn’t in th- what happened to Lucy?! I left her for ten seconds?!” Webby ran out, tailed by Dewey who had his hands on his hips. 

“She found us first. Broke her arm,” Louie explained. 

“Where is she?” Webby’s face filled with rage. 

“In there. I handcuffed and tased her,” he said. 

���You head to the plane, I’ll call it in,” Webby gave Louie back the laser gun, and nodded at the both of them, and Louie and Dewey ran back to the plane, shooting down whatever guards tried to get in their way. 

Finally, Louie made it to the plane where Della and Huey were waiting for him when he noticed Dewey wasn’t with him.

“Dewey!” he called out, handing Lucy off to Della to be taken care of. Dewey was holding his side and trying to walk as fast as he could before he collapsed to his knees. Louie dashed to his brother. 

“Dewey, what’s wrong?” he asked. 

“She really, really wanted you dead man,” Dewey coughed and revealed his hand that was covering his side. 

It was absolutely covered in blood. 

Shit. 

“C’mon, you got this bro,” Louie swallowed his internal panic yet again (probably for the millionth time in the last 48 hours) and took his brother’s arm and helped him hobble over to the plane, and then to the medical wing. 

“Dewey, what happened???” Huey gasped upon seeing Dewey and how blood-soaked the hoodie he was wearing became. 

“We need to go and we need to go now,” Louie looked to Della, who nodded and went to go prepare for take-off. Of course, Webby made it shortly thereafter and they took off before they knew it. 

“D-dad..?” Hazel croaked from the other cot. 

“Hazel, hang in there, we’ll be at the hospital in no time,” Huey focused back on his daughter. 

“I-i feel tired,” Hazel began to succumb to the drowsiness that had been slowly consuming her. 

It was then Louie remembered she had a concussion and passing out meant something was majorly wrong.

“H-hey, Hazel, no. You need to stay awake, y-you have to,” Huey began to panic, trying to think of something, anything he could do to help, but before he knew it, Hazel passed out, cold. 

As if they didn’t have a reason to rush before, they sure as hell did now. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

[cryinginthebackseat]

ɪ ʙᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇꜰʟᴏᴏʀ

Fandom: It Lives In The Woods 

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor

Words: 3.134

Summary: She rolled her eyes. "You heard me the first time, Marshall. Pretty please? Come on, consider this as our way to celebrate Redfield's defeat!"

Jesus, since when did he celebrate something in general? And now to dance? Amongst the crowd and with her no less? Noah's head said hard no, he already had a myriad of thoughts in his mind right now, he couldn't afford getting distracted and when there were feelings in the way, he feared if he couldn't trust himself to keep his emotion in check.

Yet his heart said otherwise. This was Zoey, Noah could never deny her. He would never deny her anything, especially when this could be their last moment on good terms together.

Warnings: nothing much, just swearing and some sexual tension

Author’s note: this headcanon is purely the brainchild of the amazing @noahmrshall where she requested me to write it down for her. after 84 years and a pandemic later, finally, frickking finally I manage to finish it LMAO I’M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG, GIRL. 

Anyway, make sure you tune in to feel real by deptford goth while reading, cause this is the song these are dancing to. And for those who haven’t read my first Noah x MC story, you can find it here on my main blog. Finally you know the drill, if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

Mamihlapinatapei (n.)   the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start

Prom was a montage of lipstick stains on paper cups, rap music with devastating bass drops, multicolored balloons at everyone’s feet, and the strobe lights that flickered above, turning the entirety of the gym into a one flashy, neon show.

And then there was Noah, the reluctant cinematographer of this pandemonium of pubescents making rounds on the dancefloor, buzzing in excitement while he resided in the corner, sulking, contemplating, a punch in his hand-- spiked, courtesy of King Kang himself in which he’d passed the cup at Noah earlier.

Noah didn't have any idea just how many types of liquor he'd mixed into the beverage, nor did he have the capacity to ask. He simply drank in the corner, restless, alone, hand fidgeting with his jacket and beanie. He thought with the alcohol in his system, it would be enough to make him feel better, lighter. Made him forget, god forgive him, for the atrocities he was about to commit to the ones he called friends.

Friends who'd abandoned him in his time of needs, friends who barely recognised him, friends who made him laugh at one of their antics, friends who gave him an apron for his 18th birthda--

Wait. Noah shook his head, conflicted, internally berating himself. No, no, no, there should be no room for pity for them. Jane was his number one priority here, not… Not them. 

And especially not Zoey.

His internal conflict somehow was aggravated when he saw a speck of galaxy's dust of hair on the dancefloor, twirling, cavorting, in the arms of another.  Zoey. Her face painfully close to his, lips hovering over Connor's cupid's bow, not quite kissing him, but enough for Noah to look the other way. Suddenly, the bottom of the half-emptied cup seemed a lot more interesting.

He had no right to feel what he felt. He knew that. Especially considering how he was about to turn her whole life upside down. But feelings are feelings, it could creep up to anyone at any time, any place. It was beyond anyone's control. 

And seeing her with Connor like this, laughing and dancing and kissing like fools in love they were, made his insides twist. Jealousy contributed a lot for the matter, obviously, but what hurt the most was because he knew that in all of his jadedness, hopelessness, miserable at the age of eighteen he could never give all of those to her. Zoey deserved someone who’d sit and sing to her about the stars, whom she could turn to when the chips were down, she deserved the world. 

And the world was something he was about to take from her.

Jesus, could things just be fucking simple for once? 

Zoey and Connor only parted once the song was finished. He kissed her cheek, a privilege that he was lucky enough to obtain and made a beeline out of the gym for a call. Leaving her alone, silver-haired amidst the sea of browns and blondes.

She craned her head to the side, her gaze finding Noah's across the room and smiled that smile of hers that lit up her entire face.  

When Zoey made her way towards his position, Noah immediately straightened his posture, feigning nonchalance as if he hadn't been spending the last minutes yearning for her lips, her touch, her attention and his betrayal to her simultaneously.

“Enjoying the party, Kelmeckis?” Zoey sidled up to him, snatched the cup from his hand and sipped. Which floored Noah at how casually she handled her alcohol. 

“No.” Noah eyed her confusedly then. “And Kelmeckis?”

“You know, Charlie Kelmeckis?” Noah gave her a look as if “who the fuck???” to which she simply groaned. “From the Perks of Being A Wallflower?” 

“Jesus, Uttley, only you would throw a pop culture reference at someone as a greeting.”

“And only  you  would be the only one who don’t get it,” she countered, and then she laughed, matching his own. 

He regarded her for what if felt like the first time tonight and thought to himself how lucky Connor was to have her.

"You, uh..." You look beautiful, it hurts my feelings. "You clean up nice, by the way."

Zoey looked at him oddly. "Damn, Marshall, did this come from?"

He shrugged. "I'd say the punch, but I guess 'cause I've never seen you in a dress since we were eight, so, yeah…" Tell her the truth, said the alcohol. Stop this fucking nonsense now, said the better parts of his head. "Yeah…" 

He thought he saw her cheeks blushed, but wasn't sure given to the lighting. "Thanks, Noah."

His eyes found hers, hers found his. For a long moment, it was as if they were going to initiate something. Anything.

She was the first to look away and blinked, as if she had just looked at the sun for too long and now she was seeing double vision. Noah also tore his gaze from her, finding himself, unsurprisingly, unfortunately, disappointed. 

“I thought you'd left. Or worse, on your sixteenth cigarette of the hour or something," she broke the silence first, eyes still not meeting his.

Noah squinted at her, mouth crooked. "So smoking is worse than leaving, huh?"

"Hell yeah. I don't want you to get lung cancer by 40-"

"Live fast, die young, Z," he interrupted, a sarcastic, lazy drawl to his voice that made Zoey shoot him a withering look.

"Not on my watch, Marshall. And I absolutely won't let those cancer sticks turn your mouth into," Zoey gesticulated, shrugging altogether. "An oral ashtray or something."

Noah chuckled, again-- God, it was so easy to laugh when she was around-- mid-eye-roll, his hand rifling through his blazer pocket for a pack of mint. Took one out and raised it to his mouth. 

"That's what these mints are for."

With a small shake of her head, Zoey muttered, "Bastard." Though not without a great deal of kindness. 

Ah, shit, he was going to miss this, bantering with her, laughing along with her-- just being around her in general. The thought rendered a profound pang in his heart, and he hadn’t got the chance to say he l--

No, his head said, internally berating himself. The moment had passed now. Zoey had Connor, someone who loved her unconditionally. His prime focus should be on what other scenarios should he reside so that his friends would follow him to the ruins? Or what should he do once Andy realized his phone was missing? So many things he should be ruminating, yet  Zoey  was where his head begged him to refer to.

Noah didn’t realize the smile on his face dropped into a frown until it was too late, until Zoey’s own also disappeared.

"Hey?" her voice so soft it could have been a caress for all he knew, taking a step closer. "You okay?" She asked, concern etched in that ocean eyes of hers. 

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Was his answer, but he tore his gaze away from her, the red balloon near his foot seemed like the only haven that could ward her off from delving into his soul.

Zoey cocked her head to the side, as if unconvinced. “You sure? Noah, you know you can tell me anything.”

I know. But not this.

“I know. I’m… I guess I'm still kinda tired from what happened. That’s all,” he lied, and it felt like he was slowly slicing his own heart. 

“Hey.” Zoey stepped closer, craning her neck to see him due to their heights. Her hands on his arms, comforting. “It's over now, Noah. We defeated him and kicked his ghostly ass back where he came from. We did that.  You  did that- against all odds. I know it's bound to leave some scars, but I want you to remember that from now on, you don’t have to shoulder all of the world by yourself anymore. Do you hear me?” she asked again, more insistent this time. "I'm  not  going anywhere. The others aren't going anywhere either. We're all here for you, for better or worse."

Noah sighed, and made the mistake of looking into her eyes. All the while holding onto whatever strength he had to not to crumble completely before her and cry as he scrambled for a response.

I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t do it.

“I...” he stuttered, his voice tight.

God, I can’t hurt her. Not her.

“Zoey, there's something I-"

But the DJ suddenly began to play a different tune, interrupting him whereas her whole face lit up.

"Oh my god, I love this song!"

Noah frowned, whatever he wanted to say to her, forgotten. "Never heard of it."

"That's because you never care to broaden your taste, doofus! You're missing out a lot." Zoey laughed. She offered her hands to him. "Dance with me?" She asked, her eyes glowed hopeful.

Noah looked at her as if she'd grown a second head. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "You heard me the first time, Marshall. Pretty please? Come on, consider this as our way to celebrate Redfield's defeat!" 

Jesus, since when did he celebrate something in general? And now to dance? Amongst the crowd and with her no less? Noah's head said hard no, he already had a myriad of thoughts in his mind right now, he couldn't afford getting distracted and when there were feelings in the way, he feared if he couldn't trust himself to keep his emotion in check. 

Yet his heart said otherwise. This was Zoey, Noah could never deny her. He would never deny her anything, especially when this could be their last moment on good terms together.

He accepted her hand. She grinned, like a molten California's sunset and tugged on his hand, soft against his callousness, dragging him towards the dancefloor.

Surreptitiously, Noah stole a glance at his phone when she was not looking.  9:47 pm. 13 minutes to 10. 13 minutes before Jane came barging in. 13 minutes before the final showdown. 

13 minutes left to bask in her presence.

The dance floor was jammed packed with some of his classmates, mind lost in the music. And Noah was nervous. 

As if she could tell, Zoey stepped toward him. On the dance floor, her gown shimmered like a glittering, silver moon and held his hands, giving them a comforting squeeze.

I'm here.

He squeezed back, I know. And felt his nervousness simmered.

Noah, tongue-tied, feet still rooted the ground, simply swallowed as he watched her before him, magnetising. He gulped, his cheeks flared when Zoey began to sway her hips lightly to the music. Her movements were innocent, but there was something in her eyes that commanded his attention. That girl had a flair in everything she did, alright, dancing being no exception.

"You sure you don't want to wait for Connor for this?" He asked over the music, making sure, eyes darting back and forth just in case Connor came back. 

"Nah. He probably won't come back for the next 10 minutes and I'm not going to miss this song just to wait for him," she exclaimed back, flashed her widest set of a smirk. "Come on, bust out some moves, man!"

"I'd embarrassed you," he pointed out. "I'll look worse than Shepard from Mass Effect, I'm telling you."

"I wouldn't laugh." But she was smiling when she said that. "I promise! And do you think anyone would notice even if you move like a feral ghoul? And in this crowd?"

That made Noah laugh, reconsidering.

"Don't think about them," she said in his ear as she could still sense his hesitation. "But most of all, don't think when you dance, Noah. Just let the music flow through you."

"I don't think I know how."

"Let me show you," she told him, sing-song. 

Feel real Now Forever meant nothing when we had nothing

As the music picked up its beat, so did Zoey's moves. Guiding them to the rhythm of the music, prompting him to mirror her, to let loose. He followed his instincts and began to actually dance, albeit still stiffly, but making sure to move in time with her. His pulse was racing, being so close to her for the first time. Sweat began to form on his forehead from heat, both from the crowd and their proximity.

The way she moved her hips, the way the music pulsing through his veins blurred everything; what was wrong and right, what was his and what's not as he gradually began to give in to the music, to the feeling. In hindsight, he'd like to think it had been the alcohol that drove him but he knew it wasn't true. He just needed an excuse for all of this.

As if moving in autopilot, Noah twirled her around. Earning her a laugh as she did so, the edges of her silver hair fluttering like a halo. She then pressed her back against his chest. His arms immediately snaked their way around her waist before he could stop himself. Pulling her closer until there was no distance between them. She leaned back into him, her head on his shoulder. 

Noah met her eyes. She met his back. 

Everything felt electric. Everything felt so wrong, yet the alarms were actually blaring like crazy sounded dim in his head, so he kept going.

The next thing he knew, Zoey spun around again to face him. Two hands reached up to wring her arms around his neck. Noah placed his hands on her waist, feeling the curve of her body for the very first time and he couldn't exactly make out what to feel right now.

A lover come back, I wanna dance like her, Like nobody's watching

The upswing of her warm breath against his cheek, her gaze kept on flickering between his eyes and lips, licking her lower lip. Noah's breath nearly stopped. Nearly toppled over at how intense they were; all-consuming, once again he felt her ocean eyes pulling him in, threatening to drown him. The muscle in his jaw clenched. 

The moment stretched. Zoey inched closer until their foreheads nearly touched, the tip of his nose brushed against hers. Noah searched her eyes, his calloused thumb dragging down Zoey's cheek, torn between closing the distance between them, to finally taste her lips after all these years- improprieties being the last damned thing on his mind- or to push her away and wonder if she felt the same. 

All too soon, the song ended. And all too soon, the spell broke.

As if someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on his face, Noah shook himself back to reality. Realizing what they had done and almost done and took a wide step back from her like he had stabbed her or something, looking into her flushed face. Her eyes widened by a fraction, her mouth slightly ajar.

They only stared at each other, speechless, even as the DJ played a different tune. An unspeakable terror passed between them and a single question that circled around their heads like a vulture:

What in the sweet fuck just happened?

"Hey babe, sorry for making you wait." The two craned their heads to the side to see Connor approaching them, placing his phone back in his breast pocket and kissed her cheek. 

"The manager called, saying there's going to be new items coming in next week and he wants me to make the draft for the inventory list."

Once he realized she wasn't responding to his advance, he regarded her then Noah, wondering what on earth the two were doing that left the tension in the room.

"Is… everything okay?" Connor asked, creases appearing in his brows.

"Yeah." Zoey managed to say, shaking off of her trance and feigned a smile. But Connor didn’t seem convinced. "Yeah. We were just playing around-- I mean, we were playing-"

"Staring contest. On the dance floor" Noah nearly winced at how stupid it sounded. "It was her idea."

"Yeah, I saw a bunch of people do it on my IG feed and thought, why not? Though now that we did it, it does seem stupid, isn't it?"

"Yeah, probably, uh, shouldn't do that again." And bunched his pants between his fingers and wondered if Zoey caught the double meaning.  

"Took the words right off my mouth," she concurred with a chuckle, but it sounded forced. She even avoided his gaze when Noah tried to look at her, focusing her attention on the floor instead.

He wondered if Connor could pick up on that? Could sense there was more than between the eyes, but he chuckled instead, shaking his head kindly at his girlfriend's antics and kissed her cheek. Again.

Noah looked the other way, feeling his cheeks pink either from what had transpired or jealousy or embarrassment for god knows what or the combination of the three until he remembered the time. He checked his phone again. 5 minutes until 10. 

It was time.

He rubbed at the back of his neck and cleared his throat, noncommittal. "Yeah, I'm going to get out and smoke. Catch you guys later."

Noah pivoted around, shoved his hands into his pockets. He didn't smile, didn't even spare her a final glance. He felt her eyes on her, expectant, but how could one look at her again after what they'd almost done? How could he look at her again without thinking of her lips, her touch and knowing that not only he wouldn't be able to feel them, but she would never want to see him ever again? It was too much.

 "Noah?"

Noah turned at the sound of her voice. His heart broke a little seeing her, just within reach but a million light years away at the same time.

"Yeah?" And nearly winced at how hoarse he sounded. 

She was silent for a moment, conflict rose in her face. "See you later."

All too soon, Zoey and Connor made their way deeper into the belly of the dance floor. He stood there, his limbs felt heavy, as if there was a chain holding him down. 

Suddenly, he felt a nudge on his ribs. It was Ava. 

"So when are you going to tell her about it, loverboy?" She asked, an eyebrow migrated to her hairline. He should have known that even amid the crowd, someone must have noticed him and Zoey on the dance floor. 

Noah took a deep breath, his heart felt jagged. "Someday." 

Someday. But even he knew that was just another lie he told.

[camillemontespan]

everything’s coming up roses [AU one shot. drake walker x camille montespan]

Warnings: NONE! NONE AT ALL! THIS IS SHEER FLUFFY GOODNESS!

@moonlightgem7​ @jovialyouthmusic​ @ibldw-main​ @loveellamae​ @mskaneko​ @katedrakeohd​ @burnsoslow​ @dcbbw​ @sirbeepsalot​ @pug-bitch​ @notoriouscs​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @pedudley​  @gardeningourmet​ 

**********************************

Drake ambled through the city streets looking for the right kind of flower shop. He wasn’t good at flowers; he didn’t know the best kinds or which ones survived better, but his sister had been on at him to do something nice for their mother. Bianca was feeling low at the moment and Savannah had tried everything to cheer her up but to no avail.

‘Please do something,’ she had begged Drake on the phone the night before. ‘I know you don’t live near us anymore but maybe send her a card or flowers. Anything.’

Drake settled on sending his mom flowers. Only now was he regretting this idea. He had no clue what to look for.

He found himself in the West Village on a tree lined street filled with independent bookshops and bakeries. His heart jumped; this looked promising. He took out his phone, went to maps and typed in ‘flower shop’, praying there would be one nearby. There had to be. This looked like an area with a flower shop.

One result came up and it was round the corner. Fantastic. Feeling like a good son, Drake walked quickly down the street towards the flower shop called Lily & Luna.

************************************

‘Hana, can you water the roses round the back please?’ Camille asked as she checked off her to-do list. 

‘Sure thing, lovely!’ Hana said happily. She was always enthusiastic which made her a joy to work with. She rushed outside with the watering can.

‘And Max, we’re expecting an order of peonies today at 2pm, can you sign for it?’ Camille continued, looking up at the lanky man who was standing at the top of a ladder. The ladder was shaking precariously. Maxwell was trying to water the flower baskets that hung from the ceiling without falling to his tragic death. 

‘Yup, will do boss!’ he called out. Camille abandoned her list to quickly move to the ladder so she could hold it in place for Maxwell. She couldn’t risk having Maxwell end up in A&E again. 

The door opened and the tinkling sound of the bell trilled, announcing a customer.  Keeping her hands on the ladder, Camille leaned around Maxwell’s legs to see who had just entered. 

‘Be with you in a moment!’ she said. 

The customer, who was just finishing scuffing his shoes on the doormat, turned around to look at her. Camille swallowed. The customer was the most handsomely rugged man she had ever seen in her life. 

His dark hair was tousled, giving the impression that he had just rolled out of bed.  He was as tall as the door and broad chested, with his denim shirt emphasising the vast expanse of chest and muscles that corded through his arms. He had kind eyes and that was what made Camille’s heart begin to beat just a little faster. 

He blinked, his eyes roaming her face. ‘Hey there,’ he croaked. 

****************************

It turned out that florists were beautiful. That was what Drake realised as soon as he saw her. She was half hidden by her colleague’s legs - her colleague looked like he was going to fall off the ladder at any moment - but her face had been in full view and Drake decided that florists were beautiful, just like the flowers they sold.

She tentatively left her colleague on the ladder and made her way across to Drake. ‘How can I help you today?’ she asked.

Drake’s throat was really dry. Really, really dry.

‘Uhhh… I need, uh, flowers,’ he said lamely. He cleared his throat. ‘Please.’

She smiled warmly. Drake felt his legs practically buckle.  His eyes quickly studied her; she had a name tag that told him that her name was Camille. Her dark hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a yellow silk scarf around her head. Her eyes were brown with gold flecks, like an owl; gorgeous eyes. She was wearing a denim dress and white espadrilles. Drake liked the denim dress because it matched his denim shirt.

‘Do you know what kind you’d like?’ she asked. 

‘No idea,’ Drake admitted, smiling ruefully. ‘Can you help?’

Camille grinned and gestured for him to follow her around the shop. It was a small place with wooden walls painted duck egg blue. Flower baskets hung from the ceiling and on every surface stood pitchers of flowers. Roses, daisies, peonies, lilies, sunflowers. The space was a kaleidoscope of foliage. Above the counter hung a driftwood slab that had ‘Lily & Luna’ painted in curly handwriting. 

‘Who are the flowers for?’ Camille asked.

‘My mom,’ Drake said, blushing. Camille grinned. 

‘That’s really sweet,’ she said. ‘Is it her birthday?’

‘Nah, she’s just been feeling blue so I wanna do something for her,’ Drake told her. ‘Flowers might cheer her up, you know? She lives in Texas so she’s pretty far away.’

Camille’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she looked around at the vast array of flowers on display. Her eyes settled on a pitcher of sunflowers. 

‘I always feel that sunflowers are the best flower to cheer someone up,’ she said softly. ‘They’re a happy colour and the way they are open to the world.. They are uplifting.’

Drake nodded. ‘Okay, can I send her sunflowers?’

Camille blinked. ‘You don’t want to look at other options?’

Drake shuffled on his feet and placed his hands awkwardly in his jean pockets. ‘Sunflowers were your gut instinct,’ he said. ‘And I trust your expert opinion.’

Camille looked down at the floor, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. Drake smiled now, watching her as she absentmindedly reached out to stroke a sunflower petal. Camille then looked up to smile at him. 

‘Sunflowers it is,’ she said. ‘Now, do you want to write a card?’

‘Sure,’ Drake replied. He followed Camille to the counter where she brought out little cards and a pen. He looked down at the card and tried to think of something to write. Eventually, he settled on ‘Keep smelling the flowers. Drake x’

He handed Camille the notecard; their fingers brushed. The blush appeared on her cheeks again, much to Drake’s amusement, and he watched as she took out some brown paper and a yellow bow. 

‘Shall we go for five?’ she asked. 

‘Sounds good,’ Drake said. Camille selected five sunflowers and placed them together. She wrapped the brown paper around them. 

‘Ooh, do you want to add some greenery?’ she suggested. ‘It will give the bouquet more body and fill out any spaces.’

Drake agreed to greenery. He also agreed to lavender stems because at this point, he was willing to say yes to everything Camille suggested.  Soon, the arrangement was prepared and looking pretty. 

‘Where are these being sent?’ Camille asked.

‘Walker Ranch, Applewood, Texas,’ Drake recited. 

‘Great,’ Camille said. ‘We’ll get these delivered to your mom, they should arrive within 2-3 working days. If you can give me your contact number in case there are any issues, that would be great. How do you want to pay?’

It turned out buying flower arrangements was really expensive. As Drake paid an obscene amount of money while trying his best not to cry, he wished he had just stuck to sending his mom a card. But as Camille handed him her business card and gave him a bright smile, Drake knew he would spend all of the money in the world just so he could see her again.

**********************************

When Drake left the shop, Maxwell let out a whistle. His eyes were wide like saucers as he looked down from the ladder at Camille.

‘He was fricking hot!’ he squealed. ‘Oh my God, he was so into you! Please tell me you’re gonna call him!’

Camille rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a customer who left his number for our records,’ she said seriously. ‘Not for me to pick him up!’

‘But he was gorgeous!’ Maxwell cried, climbing down from the ladder. ‘If you don’t, I will! I’ll take him out to dinner for steak! He looks like a guy who likes steak! And beer!’

‘Max, you don’t like beer,’ Camille said, smiling despite herself. 

‘I’d like beer for him,’ Maxwell replied wistfully. He now had a faraway look on his face; Camille knew he was thinking about Drake’s muscles.

‘Back to work,’ she said briskly.

‘Uh, funsucker,’ Maxwell sighed. ‘I’ll go on a coffee run for us.’

‘You’re only going on a coffee run so you can catch up with him!’ Camille called out but Maxwell didn’t hear her as he bolted out of the shop.

*****************************

‘Baby, my flowers are gorgeous!’ Bianca told Drake on the phone a few days later. ‘Stunning! They’ve made me smile so much. How sweet are you?’

‘It was nothing, mom..’ Drake mumbled, blushing at the praise. 

‘Shhh, of course it is!’ Bianca said. ‘They’re taking pride of place on the dining table. Thank you, baby.’

Drake smiled. He liked making his mother happy. He should do it more often. 

A thought formed in his mind. Maybe he could? He could send his mother flowers once a week! Sure, it would be expensive but when it made her happy, who cared? And he could go back to Lily & Luna again. He could see Camille again. She could become his official florist! Maybe his official girlfriend - no. No. Too far. 

******************************

The following week, Drake took three subway rides and walked fifteen minutes to get to the flower shop. Yes. It was very much out of his way, especially since after a more extensive Google search back home, it turned out that there were four flower shops in Drake’s neighbourhood. But he didn’t want to go to those. 

He entered the shop and was greeted by a gasp and the sound of a jug dropping to the floor. Drake moved further inside to find Camille’s colleague on his knees, hastily drying the wet floor. He was bright red.

‘Sorry, sorry, be with you in a second!’ he shrieked. 

Drake shrugged and began to peruse the flowers. He was heavily aware of eyes on him; the florist on the floor was watching him. 

‘Oh, hi Drake!’

Camille entered from the back room and joined Drake in front of a vase of peonies. ‘Didn’t expect to see you again. Is everything okay?’ she asked. ‘Your mom liked her flowers, right?’

‘Oh, she loved them!’ Drake reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to complain. I’m here to buy her some more flowers.’

The smile that spread on Camille’s face was enough to warm Drake’s heart. She clapped her hands excitedly. ‘Ooh amazing!’ she cried. ‘Okay, so sunflowers again?’ 

‘Actually, I was thinking something else,’ Drake said. ‘These are pretty, what are they?’

‘They’re peonies,’ Camille told him. ‘They’re gorgeous.’

‘I’d like to send my mom those,’ Drake told her. ‘With greenery added, of course.’ He said this with a wry smile. 

Camille grinned and picked up five stems of peonies and some greenery. Drake followed her to the counter where she handed him a notecard for him to write a message. Drake noticed that her colleague was fussing near him, examining a vase of roses while inching closer to Drake. 

‘She’s lucky to have a son who cares so much,’ Camille said softly. ‘I think it’s really sweet what you’re doing.’

Drake shrugged. ‘Just doing my duty, Camille.’ 

Camille’s cheeks turned pink when he said her name. Drake smirked and handed over his credit card to pay for the flowers to be delivered. ‘I’ll be back next week,’ he said. ‘I’m trying to turn this into a thing.’

Camille nodded. ‘See you next week then, Drake.’

Drake smiled, keeping his eyes on hers for a long moment before he gave her colleague a nod. He left the store feeling lighter. 

‘DID YOU SEE HIS SMIRK?! GOOD LORD!’ Maxwell suddenly shouted, deafening Camille’s ear drums.

*********************************

And so this continued for the next four weeks. Every week, Drake visited the flower shop and every week he bought flowers for his mother. He would chat to Camille while he was there, listening as she told him about her favourite flowers, enjoying the excitement in her voice. For fifteen minutes every week, they would get lost in talking, forgetting that they were meant to be professional. Drake loved listening to her. He loved watching her face light up and her hands move quickly as she spoke. She would skip from one flower to the next, telling him weird and wonderful facts about them. Drake could listen to her all day. 

‘Sorry, I’m geeking out!’ she said to him. ‘I just love flowers.’

‘I think it’s cute,’ Drake told her. ‘I love how passionate you are.’

Camille heard Maxwell swoon from the back corner where he was watering shrubs. She smiled at Drake; they were standing close together, examining a vase filled with roses. 

‘Roses are for couples, aren’t they?’ Drake asked her. 

She frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say that… sure, traditionally, they are. But I’m sure your mom would love them.’

‘Have you ever been given roses?’ Drake suddenly asked. As soon as he asked her the question, he regretted it. Why had he asked her something personal? 

Camille bit her lip. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never been sent roses.’

She sounded quite sad about that. Drake wished he hadn’t said anything. He was about to respond when Camille clapped her hands and gestured for him to follow her to the other side of the shop. ‘Look at these lilies,’ she said quickly. ‘What do you think of these?’

The change in subject was abrupt. Drake went along with it but as he chose to send his mother lilies, his mind was still on the idea that Camille had never received roses before. 

******************************

The next week, Drake went by the flower shop and looked in the window to see if Camille wasn’t there. He couldn’t see her, which was good for him, as he had a plan. He entered the shop to find her male colleague and a female colleague talking at the counter in hushed tones. 

‘Oh, it’s you!’ the guy called. ‘I’ll get Camille, she’s just on her lunch break-’

‘Actually, I want to talk to you,’ Drake said quickly. He looked at the name tag on Camille’s colleague’s chest. 

‘Maxwell,’ he said. ‘I’d like your help.’

Maxwell turned pink. His colleague was studying Drake curiously. 

‘Camille hasn’t received roses before,’ Drake began. ‘Can I buy her some?’

Maxwell blinked. ‘Uhh, sure?’

‘You like Camille?’ the girl beside him asked. Her name tag said her name was Hana. She was smiling. 

‘I, uh, do, yeah,’ Drake said awkwardly. ‘She’s been so nice to me and it broke my heart a little when she told me she had never gotten roses.’

‘Her ex boyfriends sucked, that’s why,’ Maxwell told him dryly.  Hana elbowed him in the ribs. 

‘Okay, what roses do you want to give her?’ she asked.

‘Beautiful ones,’ Drake said. ‘The best ones in the shop.’

Hana and Maxwell guided him to the roses in the corner of the room. White, pink, orange, red.  Drake didn’t realise roses came in different colours. Who knew?!

‘So, which ones do you like?’ Hana asked him simply. 

‘The red ones,’ Drake said, pointing to a full bouquet. ‘Red is the best colour, right?’

‘Oh my God, you’re such a marshmallow..’ Maxwell whispered.  Drake chuckled, embarrassed, but he had to agree. He was a secret marshmallow.  Hana picked out the red roses and took them to the counter. 

‘Want to write a card?’ she asked. 

Drake nodded and took the card she handed him. His heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was constricting; Camille made him feel things. She made him feel nervous. But in a good way.

He deliberated over what to write then settled on something simple.

For the girl who deserves a rose garden. Drake x

Maxwell took the card from him and quickly scanned the words; his eyes widened. Drake held out his credit card and paid for Camille’s flowers. 

‘Make sure she gets them as soon as she’s off her lunch,’ Drake said. ‘I hope she likes them.’

********************************

‘OH MY GODDD!’ Maxwell and Hana screamed as soon as Drake left. They jumped up and down, pulling each other in for hugs. The noise disturbed Camille who had been enjoying peace and quiet outside. 

‘Guys, shhhh!’ she scolded.  

They whipped around to face her, their eyes wide with excitement. Camille stared at them. ‘What?’

Maxwell cleared his throat and pointed to a bouquet of red roses on the counter. 

Camille sighed and reached out to pick up the roses. She was aware of Maxwell and Hana’s eyes fixed on her.  She opened the notecard and her heart flipped. 

‘He.. he bought me roses?’ she murmured.

‘YES!’ Maxwell shrieked. ‘He was just here! He came in, said he wanted to buy you the most beautiful ones, the best ones in the shop! Camille, please, marry him! MARRY HIM!’

Camille read the note once more, unable to stop the happy smile from spreading on her lips. She felt.. Peace. Joy. Hope. 

She had loved seeing Drake every week. He put up with her constant geekiness about flowers; he listened to her; he made her laugh; he talked about his mother; he talked about Texas. He was funny and kind and interesting. He was thoughtful. He had bought her roses.

Camille went through the customer records to find Drake’s number. Leaving Maxwell and Hana, she stepped out of the front of the shop and dialled his number. 

‘Hello?’

‘Thank you for the roses,’ she said softly. ‘They’re beautiful.’

He chuckled down the line. ‘I can’t believe you’ve never been given roses.’

‘Well, now I have,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

There was a silence until Drake broke it. ‘Can I take you out to dinner tonight?’ he asked, his voice nervous. 

Camille felt her heart skip and leap and dance. 

‘I’d love that,’ she said. 

‘What time do you finish work?’

‘6pm,’ she said.

She could feel Drake smiling down the phone. ‘Perfect,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said, unable to stop herself from smiling.

‘Maybe I’ll bring you some more roses,’ he teased. Camille let out a throaty laugh and shook her head.

‘One bouquet is enough!’

Drake chuckled. ‘No it’s not,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna give you a whole rose garden, remember?’ 

Camille blushed as red as her roses.