#i like my car but i do Not like paying for the upkeep

[famewolf]

having a car Sucks

[thewingedwolf]

one goofy ass thing i like about my job is we all really like having staff feedback after programs (like after in service, after summer reading, etc) because it just makes it easier to make it actually helpful and easier next time around and that’s all we want right, like PERSONALLY i don’t want to be anxious about a program and dreading it all year, which means i get to do what i Love which is offer my opinion constructively so i can be like “i think some people just don’t understand paylocity, it is a little confusing & for them, going through that app is this scary time sink so they don’t open it ever.” and no one is taking it personally because five other people wrote in “beanstack scares me” and “i’m not using teams” and we can just adjust our expectations of our older coworkers instead of writing people up for it akskd.

[specialagentlokitty]

Will Graham x teen!reader - our support animals

Hi I would like a request for Will Graham and teen Reader getting a dog and somehow gets an old boy who was returned 5 times? - Anon💜

Sitting on the steps in front of your school, you glanced down at your watch in order to check the time, wondering if it was worth just going for a walk or not.

You didn’t want to be at school, so you had messaged Will asking if he could come pick you up since you didn’t know who else to call at this point.

Finally you saw his car pulling up outside, and you got up, making your way to the passenger side in order to get in.

“Thanks for getting me…” you mumbled.

“Are you okay?” Will asked.

You gave a small shrug, resting your head on the window as you watched everything just rolling by.

“Not ready to go back?”

“No… I don’t know I just… all those people.. all looking at me.. I don’t know..”

Will glanced at you, turning his attention back to the road.

“They know what happened.” He said.

“I mean who doesn’t at this point? My parents were murdered a nearly a year ago, they weren’t all that great at parents anyways and now im in the care of an FBI agent who isn’t really FBI agent. I missed the rest of the school year last year and news travels fast I guess.”

“You don’t have to be in my care if you don’t want to be. Children’s services already said they can easily find you a home if you want it.”

You whipped your head around to look at him.

“No!”

You frowned a little.

“I just… I don’t.. they’ll all be happy families…”

“You can’t be around that right now, I understand that.”

You nodded your head, looking back to the road, trying to figure out where you guys were going.

“I’m sorry I made you leave work.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t doing anything interesting anyway, and I don’t think I could have sat there listening to Jack for much longer.”

This made you smile a little bit, and you look at him.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll find out a minute.”

You turned back to watching the roads go by, and finally Will pulled the car into a parking lot, and you climbed out of the car.

“A rescue?”

“I know you love the dogs, you get sad when they all follow me not you. So, we’re going to get you your own dog, Hannibal believes having a pet may help in your recovery.”

You furrowed your brow and Will opened the door to the rescue, gesturing for you to enter, and you did looking around.

While he went to talk to the people in the reception, you looked around, wondering about to look at posters and photos of the animals they had up for adoption.

You weren’t paying that much attention to anything else that going on, and every so often Will would glance at you to make sure that you were still there.

“(Y/N), please don’t wonder away.”

You turned to look at Will and he held his arm out to you.

You walked over and stood next to him, you turned away from the receptionist, and Will kept a hand on your shoulder.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for in a pet?” The woman asked.

Will looked down at you and you shook your head.

“Can we just look at them all?”

“If you want to then yes.” He smiled.

He carried on speaking to the woman, and you stretched a little bit, letting out a yawn as you waited.

Finally you were allowed to walk through and have a look at all the dogs.

There was a lot of barking, and in a strange way it put you at ease, living with Will as your caretaker for nearly a year had made you used to the sounds of barking.

“What about this one?” Will asked.

You walked over to him.

“It says her name is Luna, she’s a husky, she’s two years old, is very friendly, gets along with other dogs, was surrendered because the family couldn’t keep up with the upkeep of a husky.”

You looked at Luna, crouching down to see her better, and she paced back and forth, tail wagging happily.

“She’s really cute.”

“Do you want to keep looking?”

You nodded, letting Will help you stand up.

You carried on slowly wondering, stopping to look at all the dogs you past, Will would read you the information about them and you would keep wondering.

Will had taken particular interest in one of the dogs and you kept looking around at all of them until you reached the end kennel.

You carefully read over the information on the board and you sat down on the floor.

“Hey Enzo…”

The old Labrador lazily wagged his tail as he wondered over, laying down in front of the door, resting his head on his paws.

“Will?”

You turned to look at him and he got up, following after you.

“What is it?” He asked.

“I want Enzo.”

Will knelt down next to you, looking at the old dog.

“Yeah? What’s his story?”

“They’re not sure how old he is, but they do know he’s old. He’s been returned five times, apparently nobody wants to keep cause he’s old. That’s not fair…”

“It’s not.”

Will got up, placing a hand on your head to get your attention.

“Let’s go get one of the staff.”

“Can I stay with Enzo?”

Will glanced around, he didn’t seem so sure about the idea of leaving you alone there, but he saw there was only one entrance and exit.

“Alright, I’ll be just a minute.”

Will made his way to get a member of staff so you could meet the old Labrador and you sat on the floor, Enzo resting against your chest as you hugged him.

Will and the worker both smiled at the scene of you just cuddling this old dog who had been returned so many times.

“We’ll adopt him.” Will said.

You turned around to Will, smiling from ear to ear at him.

“I love him, he’s so sweet.”

“Well you have to love him because he’s yours and we’re not bringing him back.”

“Good.” You said.

Will filled out all the paperwork while you sat in the back of his car with Enzo, just happily petting the dogs head.

You were excited to bring Enzo back to meet all of Will’s dogs, and Enzo was pretty happy to go around with them all, wondering and exploring his new home.

You sat on the floor, waiting for him to come back so you could go back to petting him.

Will was sitting on the couch, stroking one of the other dogs.

“Do you think he knows any tricks?” You asked.

“I’m not sure, you’ll have to try. Go get the dog treats.”

You jumped up, running to the kitchen to get the dog treats and you sat on the couch next to Will, handing them to him.

You didn’t know as much about dogs as Will did, so you decided to let him see if Enzo knew any tricks or anything of the sort.

“Enzo come here boy!” You called.

The old slowly wondered over, stretching a little as he approached.

“Here, just hold this in your hand, let him see it.”

You did want Will said.

“Now, just say his name and whatever it is you’re wanting him to do.”

“Enzo sit.”

The old dog sat down, along with a few others.

“Now, give him the treat, scratch his head and tell him he’s a good dog. Positive actions mean he’ll bond to you more.”

“Good boy Enzo.”

You handed the Labrador his treat, and ruffled the fur behind his ears, grinning from ear to ear.

“We’ll get him settled in before we take him outside, and we’ll rest his recall while we’re here too.”

“Recall?”

You turned to look at Will.

“Yes. It’s how well an animal responds when you call their name, call them back to you, especially off leash dogs it’s very important.”

“Oh, if he doesn’t have good recall can we teach him it.”

Will smiled a little.

“Yeah, we can try to.”

“He’s gonna be my dog, you’re not allowed Enzo.”

Will chuckled a little bit at you.

“What if he likes me more?”

“Nope. He’s my dog.”

You sat back on the couch, patting your legs for Enzo, and he lazily climbed up, laying himself next to you with his head resting on your legs.

“Oh (Y/N) come on.”

Will had to stand up to let the dog lay down properly and you grinned from ear to ear at him.

“Do you want dinner yet?” Will asked.

“Uh, not yet. I’m not hungry. Can I help you cook it soon though? I don’t know how to cook.”

“I’ll teach you.”

You smiled, turning your attention back to Enzo and Will wondered away to do his own thing, happy that you were content there with your new family member.

He was hoping Enzo would help you in ways that he couldn’t, and since you refused to take part in any therapy he was hoping Enzo could be that support you needed especially on days when he couldn’t figure out how to help you.

Maybe there wasn’t fully enough room for another dog, but Will didn’t care about that, he could just adjust things a little if he needed too.

He had all his strays, and now you had Enzo, you both had your dogs for support, and you both had each other even if neither of you spoke about how you had fallen into Will’s care.

It didn’t matter, what mattered to Will now was keeping you safe and happy.

“Do you think he likes snow?” You called.

“I don’t know, we’ll find out soon.” He called back.

“Can he stay in my room?”

Will poked his head out for the kitchen.

“He can stay wherever you want him too (Y/N).”

You nodded your head, laying down on the couch to hug your new best friend

[bitterrobin]

Either I make multiple housekeeper ocs for my au or at least half of Wayne Manor is kept boarded up indefinitely. Sorry to burst people's bubbles but there is no conceivable way Alfred by himself is cleaning the entire mansion.

I've grown up helping my mother (who otherwise works alone w chronic back pain) clean middle to upper class homes here in SoCal. In very white oriented areas with housewives and large families with dogs and good financial situations. Now, there's a huge difference between large modern homes that have only two maybe three floors and the entire floor plan of a mansion that's at minimum built in the 1800s and has 30 rooms. But fundamentally the problems with upkeep are the same. You need to sweep all the floors, mop, wipe the baseboards, vacuum every carpet. You need to wipe clean windows, fans, HC units, lightbulbs, staircases, every surface used constantly - kitchen countertops, bathroom counters, showers/bathtubs/toilets. You need to do laundry, not only clothes, but towels and bedding used by the owners and the rags you use to clean. Fold that laundry. Make the beds. Take out every full trashbag and haul it out of the house. Wash dishes daily. Put those dishes away. Occasionally remind the owner that maybe a light needs fixing, there's a hole in their daughter's sweater, the dog peed inside, that their son tends to stuff trash under the couch cushions and now they have an ant infestation.

On average, with my help, it takes my mom 4-5 hours for one two-floor house. Takes longer by herself. That's not even getting into the amount of people and pets. If there's kids, you need to clean after their spaces more than the adults. With babies, there's diapers and toys all over. With dogs or cats there's always always fur to pick up. The bigger the family, the busier they are, the messier the house. And thats all for a housekeeper that visits every week and gets paid in numbers ranging from 6$0 to $100. (And often people will forget to pay you and you have to stretch out your budget for weeks and weeks and then they pay you and they forget again next month).

For Alfred, as an official butler and employee, he lives at the manor. There's no cost for him that comes from travel (no car to pay for fuel) or cleaning supplies (Bruce probably pays for them). But everything else? Not to mention the added chaos factor of BEING VIGILANTES. Alfred not only upkeep the house they live in, but prepares food, clothing, scheduling, and cleans the Batcave and feeds the bats, at least two large dogs, and one cat. Theres multiple cars and vehicles, guns, weaponry, technology to watch out for (and I know the average fanon enjoyer doesn't know Harold Allnut should be doing that). He picks Bruce's clothes and dresses him for godssake. Hell, Alfred even operates the Batcomputer when needed every night. He does their medical care (and people forget about Leslie yet again, even regarding her relationship w Bruce, still. still.) That's too much for one old man.

Realistically, either Bruce has a full house staff like nobles used to have, or Alfred simply does not do as much as people think. He's old. Forever aging. There's not going to be 20+ plus rooms ready all the time for people to sleep in. At best, the residents of the Manor are Bruce, Tim, and Damian. At best, their bedrooms are kept clean daily. All the other bedrooms are cleaned maybe monthly. The rooms that aren't bedrooms (foyers/attics etc) maybe every other month. Groceries are multiple day events. Same with cooking full meals, dietary plans. Galas and business functions require weeks and months. The pets take days for veterinary care and training. The kids all together take weeks, days individually and together. And they not only look at you as a butler but as family. You are responsible for their wellbeing, emotions whether you like it or not (bc Alfred frankly enables Bruce too much but thats for another day).

Only saving grace he has is that recently not many people live there anymore. Stephanie and Helena and Kate and Barbara shouldn't be living there in the first place. Dick and Jason have their own places. Tim and Cassandra are up in the air but I don't think they spend 100% of their time in the Manor because they're young adults with various circumstances.

[tojisbbygworl]

Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.

WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt

Words: 4,994

Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment

author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO

I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.

Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.

He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.

He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.

Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.

These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.

Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.

The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.

It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.

It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?

"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.

"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.

"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.

"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."

"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.

He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."

She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.

The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.

It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.

The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.

Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.

This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.

It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…

Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.

The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.

She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.

She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.

She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.

They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.

“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.

He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.

And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.

~

This wasn’t her room.

She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.

Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.

She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.

The door swings open. And her heart stops.

Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"

When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.

For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.

She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.

"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.

The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.

She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.

Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."

Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.

Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.

"No," she realizes. "It's not you."

Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"

"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."

Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."

"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.

He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"

"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"

"I had to, baby. I-"

"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"

He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"

"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"

"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.

The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."

She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...

...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.

He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.

He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.

He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.

He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…

“You were watching me?”

Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.

When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”

He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”

With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.

She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.

She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.

Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”

He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.

The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.

She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.

The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.

Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.

She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.

And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.

When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.

He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.

She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.

“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.

“Yes?” He asks her.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.

He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.

She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.

Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”

“But I love you,” she tells him.

He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”

She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”

His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”

As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.

She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.

She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.

She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.

“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.

Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.

Lyla was wrong…right?

“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”

“Lyla…shut down.”

ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵

AO3 version

My AO3

Masterlist

[tako-cafe]

thought about this a lot but the NRC staff really don't make as much money as what I see said. Now taken it is very few posts that exist but I love a chance to be a little nerd and research random topics. I won't be adding Sam into this as running the store he would have a different measurement of how much income he gets. I'll also only be using Ivy/private UNIs as my baseline not public ones as NRC seems to be seen as somewhat prestigious. And ofc this is my own HC so don't take it seriously!

Starting with Crowley as his job as headmaster. Now we know he was offered this job so he does not own the school so there is a mystery higher up somewhere. Now he does seem to do the budget too which means he more likely decided salaries out of it and how I see him isn't particularly...kind. I'm going in the middle of the salary lists and saying he gives himself $908,642. Not low at all, but it isn't the highest one b/c he is just so so kind.

Mozus being the one there the longest would have the highest pay naturally of the teachers. Raises, bonuses, and just being a long running teacher I am placing him at $226,000 a year. It isn't anything to scoff, but I also believe he's one to put most of it away and stay humble with a family home and basic care while putting it all away for his girls. He doesn't have high end assets to add more to this worth.

Crewel being a younger science professor but still having a few years under his belt I would place at $170,000. He is one to not see tons of that at first because of his car with upkeep, insurance for what it is, and he feels like he drops a lot into it. Along with his love of fashion. He drops so much on sewing supplies and high end clothing. Thankfully his pay can make him think he can keep up this lifestyle.

Vargas is actually the youngest but I had issues finding one for him due to him teaching pe + flight. The smallest salary is $150,000 so that is where I placed him. Does fully drop tons of it on his workout and food supplies lets be for real.

[paulsbrokenaglass-beatles]

"In early 1962, I was approached in the shop by a couple and their very young-looking daughter who nervously asked to see Mr Epstein. Brian was in London for the whole week so I ushered them through to Brian’s office. The girl was called Jennifer and she was a pretty little thing of about 16 or 17. The father spoke first. 'Well, it’s like this. We don’t want to bother anyone.’ The mother cut in, 'Our Jennifer is five months pregnant and the father is one of your Beatles - John,’ she said emphatically. The girl winced and I began to feel desperately sorry for her. The mother continued, 'It’s not right. She was only young when she went with him and I know it takes two but we reckon she were taken advantage of. She’s going to miss out on her exams and we’ve no money to take care of someone else’s baby. We want to see this John pays up in full for this baby’s upkeep. Our Jennifer says she is determined to keep the baby and we will give it a home of course.’ […] Brian rang in every day, and when he called that afternoon I broke the sorry story to him. He sounded very upset for the girl but he asked me, 'Do you believe them?’ I said that I did. There was an awful, lonely sadness in the girl’s eyes that said more than any of the mother’s angry accusations. Two days later, he was back and we discussed the matter in detail. The Beatles were at a crucial stage in their development and Brian was clearly concerned about the threat of a scandal and the effect it might have on their budding careers. The early '60s were very different days from the liberated times that so quickly followed. Brian arranged for the family to come back in and see him personally. He sent a car for them and we met them together. This time the mother was more subdued. Brian was very charming and he expressed enormous concern for the girl’s wellbeing. He apologised on John’s behalf and tried to let Jennifer down gently about the chances of renewing their relationship. Then he said, 'As the Beatles’ manager, I am responsible and I have no intention of shirking my responsibilities. I think it is in everyone’s interests for us to strike an agreement that takes care of the situation.’ Brian agreed to pay £250 and so much a week maintenance for the baby until it was 16. […] Afterwards, Brian was quite upset. 'That poor young girl,’ he said. 'Isn’t it sad that sex always seems to have such an ugly side to it? That family could have been smashed apart by this. Do you think we have put them back together again?’ 'You’re sure they were telling the truth, then, Brian?’ I asked. He looked shocked. He had taken every word they had said at face value and believed them completely. 'Alistair,’ he said imperiously, 'I can’t believe you can even think a family would put themselves through that sort of ordeal unless they were being completely honest. And not a word about all of this to John. He has enough to concentrate on. This whole affair is between you and I. The subject is now closed.’ But Brian said afterwards that what had perturbed him the most was the young girl, Jennifer. She looked a real little waif in her school uniform. Brian wondered what on earth she would have done if her parents and he had not taken charge of the situation. I said, 'Brian, some parents would have kicked her straight out of the door.’ He put his hand to his head in surprise. 'How awful!’ he said, and I could see that he meant it.

Alistair Taylor, With the Beatles

[thebisexualdogdad]

Jason Todd x Male!MMA fighter reader headcanons

*Oliver Stark used as a fancast*

● you're a personal trainer by day and underground mma fighter by night

● meeting Jason at the gym you work at and always checking each other out

● you'll be with one of your clients and smiling at him across the room while he tries to impress you by upping the amount of his weights

● "I noticed you've got a lot of scars, must have a lot of good stories to tell" you say when you finally talk to him for the first time

● "well how about you let me take you out to dinner and tell you some of them"

● while he doesn't exactly lie about how he got his scars he doesn't tell the entire truth about him being a crime fighting vigilante either

● he plays it as he just happens go be at the wrong place at the wrong time a lot

● you guys spend a whole lot of time together at the gym

● competing to see who can lift more

● and run a mile quicker

● sparring until you can't feel your arms anymore

● he's at the gym so much all of your clients know him

● "So how long until I get biceps as big as your boyfriends Y/N?"

● "it takes a lot of dedication to get biceps like these" Jason says flexing proudly

● Jason actually learns a lot of new moves from training with you

● Dick after a fight where they took down twenty bad guys "that was impressive Jason where did you learn that from"

● "Y/N taught me, you should take a few lessons from him maybe you could actually be a good fighter too Grayson"

● "ha ha very funny don't forget who's been doing this longer"

● going on long motorcycle rides with Jason

● you two race throughout Gotham weaving in between cars

● and loser has to pay for dinner

● Jason doesn't do much upkeep of his apartment

● he's got leftovers in his fridge that are so old its created its own ecosystem

● and there's dirty laundry laying all over the floor

● "when was the last time you did a load of laundry?"

● "well considering I haven't worn any underwear in over a week I'm gonna say a while"

● the very first time you went to his place you were surprised by all the books scattered around

● "I didn't take you to be such a bookworm"

● "do I get to keep my bad boy title if I tell you I'm banned from three libraries for not returning books?"

● this leads to a lot of coffee shop dates where you just quietly read next to each other and enjoy one another's company

● Jason goes to all of your fights

● he always gives you a good luck kiss in the locker room, "go out there and kick some ass babe!"

● you win the majority of your matches so there's a lot of celebrating with Jason after at the bar

● but the one time you got the shit beat out of you Jason had to fight the urge to not to murder the guy right there in the ring

● he and your manager carry you back to the locker room and get you cleaned up and Jason is pissed

● "Jay you gotta calm down I've done worse to people in the ring"

● "yeah but those guys aren't my boyfriend"

● your manager "you've got a lot of passion kid you ever think about signing up to fight?"

● "trust me I do enough fighting just not for money"

● your manager "what, are you involved in a gang or something?"

● "something like that"

● Jason thinks you still don't know about his secret identity but you figured it out a long time ago

● you don't say anything because you want him to feel comfortable telling you himself

● whenever that may be

[butter-aim-is-getting-better]

Rainy Day Woman PT 4

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3

Young!Stan Pines x GN! Reader 

SFW

WC: 2,869

After a few minutes of waiting, Stan knocked on your door, you walked up and opened it.

“Ya ready?” He asked, looking you up and down so quick you almost didn’t catch it.

You looked at him too, a little less subtly than he did, and he looked good. His outfit was pretty simple, a white v neck shirt with a gold chain and brown jeans, but even a simple outfit on him managed to stun you, definitely long enough for him to notice.

“Oh um, yeah! Yeah. Where are we going?” You stumbled over your words. You wanted to compliment how good he looked, but you also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, you were sure he saw you staring anyway. 

“Greasy's Diner alright? They've only got breakfast but it is good”

“I love Greasy’s DIner, only been there a few times though” You said

He laughed and smiled, “Alright, lets go”

you followed him down the stairs and outside to his car. 

You were a bit nervous, you haven't spent much time with Stan, and you were never good at small talk. You always thought you gave off bad first impressions. You were also worried about the town gossiping, as small towns do. They knew you worked at the Mystery Shack by now, but did they know you lived there? You hoped people wouldn’t stare at you while you were out with Stan. 

As you got to his car he opened your door and gestured for you to get in. “Thanks” you smiled and sat down. You were still nervous, but if Stan could manage to act normal after almost walking in on you naked this morning, then you could manage.

Stan closed your door, walked around to his side of the car, got in and started the car. “Ya ready kid?” He asked, “Yep!” You smiled

As he drove you sat in silence, some music In the background but it was turned down so low you didn't really pay attention to it. Greasy's Diner wasn't far away, it was maybe 5 minutes before the restaurant appeared in the car's headlights.

You and Stan got out of the car. As you started to walk up to the Diner you looked back at Stan's car. “How long have you had that car? For as old as it is it runs good, Looks good too.” 

“I've had the Stanmobile since I could drive! I upkeep it myself, it's broken quite a few times on me but nothing I couldn't fix” He beamed, based on the excitement in his voice you could tell it was something he was very proud of. It was nice seeing him talk so passionate about something. When he was running the mystery shack he had that same voice, But you could tell it was more staged when he was working. “The Stanmobile huh? Honestly one of the more normal names I've heard for a car.” Stan laughed

Stan opened the door for you, you both walked in and sat down. A woman you have seen many times came up to take your order, you learn her name is Lazy Susan. “Hello Mr. Mystery, I see you’ve made a new friend!” She says as she hands menus to you and Stan. 

“Hah, new friend and new employee! Y/N Here helps me run the Mystery Shack now.” Stan says.

“Oh that’s exciting” She pours you both some coffee and walks away while you and Stan decide what to eat. 

“So, you said you’ve had your car since you could drive, how long ago was that?” you asked. 

“Is that your way of figuring out how old I am?” Stan smiles at you, brows furrowed but a smile on his face. 

“Maybe” You laughed, he looked to be in his late 20s to you, but he seemed to mature to be that young.

Just before you could find out Lazy Susan was back to get your orders, Both you and Stan decided to get pancakes. As she walked away you looked back at him, narrowing your eyes. “I’m still waiting for my answer Stan” 

He rolled his eyes “alright alright, I’ll tell ya, but I want ya to guess first” He smiled.

 You stared at him for a second, his face, his hair, his hands. You could say you were looking to make a good guess, but really you were just taking this moment as an excuse to study him. His face looked young, but his hands looked like they had done a lot of hard work. You looked back into his eyes. Everyone says the eyes are the window to the soul, but you couldn’t read Stan's eyes, they had some emotion behind them but you couldn’t quite say what. “Hmmm, I'm going to say…24?” You wanted to guess older, but you knew if you guessed a little younger it would help his ego, and you wanted to make him smile.

“Hah, pretty close, but I'm 28, what about you?” He beamed. You were right when you wanted to guess late 20s, but it was worth seeing him smile more than it was being right.

“No, I had to guess now you have to” You smiled and stared at him. Having Stan stare at you like you stared at him was awkward. You didn’t know where to look

 “Hm” He said looking into your eyes, “26?” You smiled, “No, but you're a better guesser than me. I’m also 28. His eyebrows raised in surprise. 

“Pancakes!!!” Lazy Susan said as she walked up to you and Stan and gave you both your food. You both sat in silence for a while as you ate, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until there was food in front of you. 

After you all both were done, Stan looked up at you “Wanna take this back to my place” You laughed, and blushed.

“That’s the worst pick up line for someone who lives with you Stan”

He grinned “Well, ya saying you aren't gonna come back to my place? Cause I think you are, which means it works” 

You sighed and smiled at him fondly “Alright, I guess it is, but it’s still dumb” 

Stan rolled his eyes and smiled at you.“Alright let's go”. Stan got up and got out his wallet.

“Hey I can pay for my food” You started to say. 

He waved his hand at you. “Even if I let you pay it would still be my money, don’t worry about it” 

You sighed, “fine” he wasn't wrong but it was more of the principle of it. You didn’t want him to pay for you unless you were on a real date. 

“Don’t get into too much trouble you too!” Lazy Susan said as you and Stan left Greasy's Diner. You just smiled “We’ll try!” You could tell by the calculating look on her face that she was probably going to be gossiping about you and Stan. You weren’t in town very often anymore now that you had a place to live, so you found yourself not really caring for once. As you and Stan got outside and got back into the Stanmobile, Stan again getting your door for you, you made your way back to the Mystery Shack. 

During the ride home you kept stealing small glances at Stan, admiring how his arms looked as he gripped the steering wheel, watching his hands as they turned the wheel. If you were looking at his face you would have seen the glances he was giving you too, but you didn’t.

*Stan POV*

Stan could see the way you were looking at him as he drove, as good as having someone admire him made him feel, it also worried him. Stan saw himself as a disease. When he met someone he infected them with whatever bad luck he had that ruined everything, and ruined them too. He liked you of course, but he was just so tired. Tired of ruining other peoples lives, tired of running to new towns, tired of never being enough. He almost started to regret letting you move in. If something happened and the town started to gossip and try to run him out of town, what would he do? He couldn’t leave Gravity Falls, not until he got Ford back. 

Maybe he should start distancing himself from you. He knew in his heart he wouldn’t be able to kick you out, not when you only had your car to live in. He knew what that was like. Waking up freezing in the dead of night, having to start your car just so you can be warm enough to fall back asleep. The summers could be just as bad, sweating in a car but not rolling the windows down out of fear of someone robbing you, or worse.

He shook himself out of the thoughts of his past, and looked over to you for a moment as he drove. “So, how long ya planning on staying in Gravity falls?”

“Reader POV*

“So, how long ya planning on staying in Gravity falls?”

“I haven't really put much thought into it. I’m not really the planning type. Normally I skip towns when I have enough money or I get bored.” You said, you think that question was his way of figuring out how long you would stick around, but you weren’t sure if he was asking because he wanted you to get out of his house or because he enjoyed your company. You hoped it was the latter. 

“Ya ever think you'll find a town good enough to stay in?” He asked. 

You pondered his question for a minute, trying to find the right words without oversharing. ”Well, I have only been on the road for a few months, I hadn’t exactly planned to be on this road trip. Just kinda happened. As far as settling into a new town, It really hasn’t crossed my mind on a serious level. I haven't been financially stable enough to let myself consider it since I've been on the road.”

*Stan POV*

Stan could tell by the tone of your voice that you were probably on the road because you were running from something. He knew from experience that often people who were traveling were running from many things, some they weren’t even aware of. He could tell your reason was more physical than mental by the way you spoke. Whether it be a specific person or situation, he felt the way you phrased your words indicated it wasn’t your choice to be where you were now. Some people are out there because they are trying to escape themselves, others are running away from people they crossed a line with. He met many people from both situations, so he got used to reading in between the lines.

He hated how much you reminded him of himself, he knew how quick street life could get dark. He was a kid when he got kicked out, and he thought he was tough, but when he got out on those streets, he was the most scared he had ever been. It made him grow up fast, but he would never escape the nightmares that life gave him. While you were older when you started living in your car, age wasn’t something that prepared you for that life. You had a look in your eyes when you spoke that you had already seen some of that darkness. He didn’t want to make your life worse but he feared he would.. He wanted you to move on from Gravity Falls before he could ruin another person. But seeing that distant look in your eyes as you answered, he knew he would have to let you move on on your own terms. Hopefully he could keep you at arms length for however long that was. 

As he pulled into the driveway of the Mystery Shack and parked his car, he turned to you. “I know road life is hard, don’t worry about overstaying your welcome here. Stay here as long as you want, and if ya wake up one day and decide you want to leave, don’t think ya owe me anything.” He stated, trying to look into your eyes but instead more looking through you, still a bit lost in the memories of his past. “Just uh, helping around the shop is enough of payment for me” 

*Reader POV*

You always thought of Stan as just a conman, but you never thought about what he had been through, to become that. In that moment, the far-away look in Stan's eyes changed how you thought about him. He looked like he had seen a lot of shit, shit you knew would be too vulnerable to ask about right now. Your mind was blank after he finished talking, you felt so happy you finally had some stability in your life, but the man offering you that stability seemed like he had none. While he had the physical stuff, money and a roof over his head. Mentally he seemed fragile, like he was just barely making it. for a moment he looked like a shell of himself as he looked through you while he spoke. You knew he got lost in his thoughts often from the interactions you had had with him so far. You wondered what happened in his past to hurt him so bad, and you wondered if in some way you could help him. After what you knew was too long of a silence you finally managed to speak.

“That means a lot Stan, thank you. Really.” You said, reaching out and placing your hand over his. 

“Yeah uh, no problem” He said, he moved to get out of the car, but squeezed your hand for a second before he moved away from you. As he got out and you followed him into the mystery shack, as you entered the shack he turned to you. “I've got some work to do in the shack, see ya in the morning?” He said, pointing over to his office, avoiding eye contact.

“Do ya want any help?” You asked 

“No! No. It’s just uh, it’s confusing stuff, just a bunch of paperwork” His voice got too loud for a moment, but he corrected it, looking anxious. 

“Alright you have fun with that” you laughed. “See ya tomorrow” you smiled and started to head up to your room. As you got ready for bed you found yourself thinking about Stan again. You were hoping to hang out more when you got back, but he seemed anxious to work on whatever he was doing. As you drifted off to sleep you thought about Stan. The more you hung out with him the harder it was for you to keep your eyes off of him. You wanted to get to know him more, more about his past, about his family. You were hoping work was slow tomorrow so you could talk to him more. 

*Stan POV*

When you put your hand on Stans he almost panicked. He wasn’t used to casual touch from people. He didn’t hate it of course, it had just been so long since he had someone who seemed to care about him.

He didn’t want to abandon you when you got back to the Mystery Shack, but he had to work on the portal. He had been neglecting it since he had a new guest in the house, and the guilt of doing so was getting to him. As he went down to the basement and looked at the mess, he really wished he did have someone to help. He knew you couldn’t, how could he even begin to explain his situation without you thinking he was crazy? He sighed, looking through journal one, trying to make sense of how to help his brother. 

He hated coming down here. Everything down in this basement reminded him of what a failure he was. Ford could have been so much more if Stan hadn't ruined his chance at his dream college, his father made sure he knew it was his fault. He probably wouldn't have even built this portal. And if Stan had listened to Ford when Ford finally gave him a chance, Ford would still be here. 

As he looked up at the portal from his desk he just signed, banging his head down onto the table and laying there. His mind was back to calling him every name in the book, criticizing him for all his failures. He sat there with his head on the desk, rubbing the scar in his shoulder. He decided to go upstairs eventually, he needed to go out and look for the other journals. He couldn’t figure anything out with just the first one. As he went upstairs to go to his room, he passed yours. The thought of at least having someone to talk to in the morning made him smile. It was nice to not be alone with his thoughts all the time. Even though Stan planned to keep his distance from you, the company of another person still helped his mental state more than he realized. 

_______

Author's notes: Sorry this took so long!! School and family stuff have kept me busy. I’m also slowly getting writer's block cause I am not 100% sure where I'm taking this story. Will be updating regularly soon! I am almost done with finals :/

[ssahotchnerr]

I know ✨nothing✨ about cars, so i looooove the idea of Aaron taking care of my car for me ❤️

<3 yes!!!!!!!!!!

while he's home on the weekends, aaron takes it upon himself to clean it for you, despite your protests that he uses his valuable free time to relax. he vacuums the car's insides, checks jack's carseat in your backseat to make sure it's safe and secure 🥹, takes it to the carwash, fills your tires with air, gets it's oil changed as needed, everything and anything he can do. and thanks to his attentive care, your car is the impediment of brand new, which blows your mind ??? - like even after months, it still has that new car smell thanks to his incredible doting on it.

he also takes your car on drives, making sure it's running smoothly so it doesn't break down and leave you stranded somewhere - especially when he's gone. he needs to make sure you (and jack!) are safe.

and once aaron's satisfied with the upkeep and he's positive your car won't give you any trouble, he always makes sure you have a full tank of gas- he fills and pays for such himself 🥹<3333

every so often, if there is something wrong and he's able to quickly fix it himself, he just looks so much more attractive doing so if it were possible?!?!!? UGH him in a tshirt, muscles flexing, getting all sweaty in said tshirt, which is just sticking to his body <33333 lil grunts exiting his mouth as he works. and if he's washing the car rather than taking it to the carwash 👀 bonus points if it's boiling outside so he's shirtless hehe <3333 sexy enough to be on a magazine cover ohmygodknds

[ceeejus]

Hi so like. This might sound like a very silly question but how did you get your art riso printed? Like, did you order it from a printing shop, or print it yourself? I looked at the prices of these printers out of curiosity and they seem like, surprisingly expensive so it got me thinking that I missed some cheaper offer or smth because I'm seeing more and more mention of riso printing and just. Wonder how anyone other than an office or smth can afford that lmao

hey anon! not silly at all--i love to talk riso and am always happy to share resources! putting this under a readmore because i got very rambly lol

i do print 99% of my risos myself-- i bought a used/refurbished riso EZ220 in 2020 (which is a pretty old model) so it was ~$750 USD for the machine + one color drum (this is a whole separate beast of costs). but you're absolutely correct, risos (especially new/not refurb) can be very expensive-- brand new current model ones i think can be like. the price of a new car, which is crazy. some of that's due to it being a very complicated machine, and some of that might also be due to import costs depending on location. sometimes riso dealers will have sales, especially on refurbished models, so if you are someone who's interested in buying one i would keep an eye out for something like that*. but also buying a riso definitely isn't something i would recommend if you're just starting to get into it-- they require more upkeep than a standard printer, in addition to the price (NOT TO MENTION THE SIZE.. mine is a smaller model and it weighs more than 200lbs. trying to get it into my apartment was a nightmare.)

(*if this is something you or anyone else is interested in i have further tips on this but i dont think thats really the point of this ask so i wont put them here LOL)

HOWEVER! aside from owning your own riso, there's definitely way more accessible/affordable* (*not usually cheap but definitely cheaper than buying a thousand dollar machine) ways to get into riso printing. a lot of risograph small presses will offer print services, where you set up a file and choose colors and they print for you and send them back to you. some places may also provide file setup for an additional fee. this kind of thing is definitely more expensive than ordering a standard print, and often there will be a minimum quantity that you have to order (due to the way the riso works, the more you print the more economical it is to make the print, basically). the 1% of prints i haven't printed myself i got from retroJAM Taiwan as part of a group show/order, but there are a LOT of printshops that offer this! I'm not sure what country you're in, but stencil.wiki has a great atlas here-- i'm not sure all listed here offer this, but worth a look. looking around in tags on instagram or twitter might also get you results of print places that aren't listed here.

another option (depending on location) is to take a class. a lot of colleges or community art centers have risos-- some print shops may also have community risos. classes can definitely be expensive, but often after you take the class sometimes there will be options to buy studio time to continue using the machine. (often you can't do just studio time without class, because risos are expensive and particular and very easy to break haha. obviously this makes the whole endeavor more expensive because you have to pay for class too, but once you're certified at a location you gain a bit of trust lol.) before i had my machine i was lucky enough to take a class at sva and use their print lab, which is beautiful!! and also kind of expensive to buy lab hours for (iirc, this was like 5 years ago) unless you're enrolled which makes sense. for a LONG time after that i printed at the EFA riso room which was a little more affordable (and overall easier to book studio time at. i love them!!!!)-- if covid hadn't happened i would probably still be printing there. most of my knowledge of classes is for the ny area, but again depending on where you are there might be some in your area too-- again stencil.wiki or even just poking around on instagram is how i usually find other print shops whose work i want to check out (so hopefully it'll work for this kind of thing too lol).

this definitely isn't like. an exhaustive list of riso options but hopefully this answers your question!! again i am always happy to talk riso-- i spent a long time wanting to get into it and not being sure how to and am also relatively a riso hobbyist (as opposed to like, a printing press) so always glad to pass on knowledge of how to get into riso Casually, haha.

[oncominggstorm]

Ok genuinel someone please tell me if I'm wrong cuz I feel like I'm losing it

Ok so I bought myself a new car in 2018. Like with my own money, from my job. I paid the loan off in full in 2023.

My sister and I live together, and as of March of this year, we have shared finances. My sister hasn't had a car for years and I have always let her use mine when she needed. We also now pay for all upkeep of the car with our shared money.

Last week, I had plans to go to the library after therapy, but the day before, my sister said she needed the car and that I had to come straight home. So I switched my plans and went before therapy instead.

Now, she's just done it AGAIN. I had been planning for several days now to go to the library after therapy tomorrow. But she's just texted me that she needs me to come straight home so that she can have my car to go to some christmas thing with my other sister.

I said fine but that she needs to stop doing this and that moving forward I won't be changing my plans, she needs to tell me in advance if she needs the car.

She got angry and doesn't see the issue because my plans are "things that can be done any day or time" whereas hers are "a specific event at a specific time." And that she couldn't tell me in advance because she wasn't sure if she was going or not til just now.

She also said that the car is no longer mine, it's now both of ours because the upkeep is now paid for with shared money, even though I paid the entire $28k cost of the car on my own, as well as all of the upkeep on my own up until this year.

Like...I'm not the one who's wrong, am I?

[politicallyestranged]

I know the hot button items are hard to ignore because they will impact either your own lives or those you know but I promise if we take care of 5 things you will see an impact.

1. Food - we need good food for our entire country. I dont care if they are jobless they need the same quality food.

2. Water - our drinking water needs to be filtered a different way and our country needs to invest in that for every single citizen. You will die without drinking water. If you do not have a populace then you do not have a country. You have no one to work for you.

3. Health insurance - theres many things we can do. A lot say we don't want to give it to the government because they will mess it up. Giving it back to the doctors wouldn't save the people from price gouging either. So we could make it a subscription thing. Different tiers covers different things and emergencies are covered by the taxes you pay to the government. If you don't have your health what life do you really have?

4. Taxes - refinanced all the way through. Stop with foreign aid. Thin the IRS by like 75% because its a set amount already calculated by what your job pays you. If you make 75,000 -125,000 then it is x% of that is already taken out and there is no other paperwork needed. Simple. You dont need to know every dollar in and out. You need to know what I made on the wages I exchange for social security. Anything else shouldn't matter. Vehicle taxes are a joke I shouldnt have to "register" my car every year you need to know how many vehicles I have that touch the road to know my contribution for upkeep you can mail me that. You can email me that. I can scan a QR code with my phone for direct payment. Quit playing. And for stolen purposes keep your paperwork on that vehicle until you sell it. The title would still work it just wouldnt go through the state it could be returned to the car makers. Who would probably turn it into a photo and a number identification for car and owner/owners that the police could scan from the owners device. Like its 2024 people! Or something else could be arranged to.

5. Economy - work = reward. We need a complete restructuring on currency. If you are working you should NOT have to ask the government for food. If you are raising your family there is no reason why it should take 2 people working all day everyday to pay for that household.

All of this is just thoughts on what I would do if I had the power to change things here in the US. These are the real core issues. Most of our other problems are rooted back to this. We should want all of our citizens to thrive and not just survive.

Once we took care of these things we could start to work on all the problems that resulted because of them. We aren't broken we have just grown. Our government isn't keeping up and I mean how could they when most of them should be enjoying time with their grandchildren at the lake. Our world has changed so much and they still want us to do things like its 1995.

Then everyone wonders why we feel so lost. We have outgrown our society construction. Its time to make major renevations but to better our country. Why would we not want better for ourselves, the people who live here with us, as well as whoever wants to peacefully visit our country?

[jellybeanium124]

the collapse of the united states government would not be good. I know that the US gov't has fucked shit up literally everywhere, but there is a lot of stuff they do that you don't think about. let's talk about just the domestic stuff as I am a citizen of the empire and am most familiar with that. in no particular order, completely off the top of my head:

funding for the upkeep of the interstate highway system

FDA and USDA making sure the food and drugs we're ingesting don't harm or kill us

some states pay more in federal takes than they get back but some states don't these states are funding their shit with federal funds. schools, for example. our FREE public education system. FREE public education age 5-18 WAS NOT ALWAYS A THING

let's be honest, if the federal government collapsed, that would affect things at the state and local level. your fire department. your library. the upkeep of your public parks. public universities. hospitals.

How are we gonna import foreign items?? you know like all the stuff from china we consume on a daily basis?

they print all the money. if you think inflation is bad now wtf do you think will happen without the federal government keeping it in check??

medicare and medicaid

CHIP and food stamps

about 3 million people work for the federal government. that's 3 million people, from the politicians you want to firebomb down to the janitors cleaning government buildings out of a job. and remember that federal employees work all across the country. this isn't just the good old swamp that will be affected.

state and local government employs tens of millions of people. social workers work for the state. public defendants. all out of a job.

speaking of social workers, not to cry "think of the children" but fuck it yeah think of the children. no school = no outside adults watching them for signs of abuse. no social workers/child protection agency = nobody intervening at all. what about all the kids up for adoption? what about all the kids in foster care? the federal government supports state child welfare and foster care, although there are private foster care agencies. what happens to those kids?

without taxes how are you paying for anything

the national parks?? who is looking after them?

911? what are we supposed to do in an emergency?

I'm stopping here. This is just the domestic stuff a shmuck like me could think of in a few minutes with minimal googling. To say nothing of foreign aid elsewhere in the world.

Yes, the federal government has done many horrible, tragic, unforgivable things, at home and abroad. this is not a brain-dead patriotic defense of the united states. I also know many people would like us to shove our foreign aid up our own butts because it's the opposite of helpful. but the us gov't also does many thankless upkeep and maintenance tasks without which many many many people will DIE. The collapse of the united states government would be a horror and a tragedy. the united states is an empire and the collapse of an empire will be bloody and tragic and brutal. maybe that makes your blood hot with righteous revolutionary fervor, but what happens when it's your mom or dad or sibling or best friend or partner or you? what happens when the world as you know it collapses around you and you can't get your medications or gas for your car and your money is better off being burnt in a fire? what happens then, huh?

[msfbgraves]

Well, the Netflix password sharing ban has reached the Netherlands. Quick survey says that there are several workarounds, but my mom is not tech savvy enough for that level of trickery, so I'll advise her to change her subscription to only one screen.

Count that as two near instances of screaming rage at corporations in two days.

And no, that's not about being unable to live without Netflix. It's the relentless trickle of shittery they keep pulling.

My bank raising its fees just because, and I would have switched but I am on this family arrangement so I can't.

My bank app deciding my phone is too old for it.

Another price hike in the supermarket.

The fees for my building's upkeep have been raised by €5 a month for shits and giggles.

A tax hike of €2 a month for my car and don't get me started on paying more than €2 for a litre of petrol.

An insurance price hike and I can't switch because of a misunderstanding with the building upkeep company. Seriously it's the only way of beating constant price hikes, constantly switching.

The ticket prices for the train have been raised.

On and on it goes. And my main problem is that this could easily all be outlawed. But it isn't. Because higher prices on everything also means more tax revenue, as that is a percentage of the total, not a flat fee.

The Netherlands have already protest voted the Nazis in, and the party that calls itself "New Social Contract" means by that, that the whole country should function like the Dutch Bible Belt: with strong solidarity among neighbours instead of state intervention and also trans people are evil. If the government does not try to further the wellbeing of all its citizens, against exploitative corporations, who tf is it for? Like, I know who it's for, it insanely favours capital, but shouldn't there at least be a pretense of something else?

I find it fascinating that government always goes "This is fine" until there are physical mobs outside of their gates. They don't do anything an hour before.

I don't really understand why they keep pushing people to the brink of that. Whom does it help? Nobody. Every revolution simply ushers in a new elite, only that first, a lot of people die - some rich, most poor. The poor mostly stay poor. I'm not saying don't riot, because the revolutions, if survived, often cause a minor uptick for the starving, but not half as well as a government that ensures a high standard of living for everyone.

And make no mistake. They're literally having people starve. Because they can. Either on no food, or on food that is so substandard it causes disease.

It only took 40 years.

Why are they so stupid? People may not understand nft's, or substandard loans swaps, or whatever they come up with next to cheat pension funds, but they do understand being able to afford heating your house, being able to afford to keep a roof over your head, or "I can't afford dinner."

But what do I know. I simply studied humanities.

[dollsonmain]

So there was a poll that was like if you won the lottery what would you do and options for quitting your job.

My first thought was that I would GET a job because I could after winning enough money to buy a car. I would want a part-time job so I'd have a reason to leave the house and spend time with people every day but only part time so I wasn't completely exhausted when my shift was over.

And then I was like well......

Thinking about it a little longer if I didn't need a job to survive because I had plenty of money, I think what I would really want was a driver.

I like to go places sometimes. I don't like to drive. Driver can be tasked with taking me places and doing upkeep on the car, and I would pay for it all in addition to suitable wages.

Driver would be able to put multiple kids through college for taking me to thrift stores and to get groceries now and then. I wouldn't even be going places all of the time, it would be more like two or three trips to the thrift store each week because New Stuff! and a weekly grocery run with an occasional additional trip to hunt down a street taco food truck.

If I won a billionty dollars in the lottery, I'd want a house, a car, and a driver.