#please its only like ten dollars please look it up

[here-there-be-drag0ns]

how much money do i have to pay for charlie slimecicle to gm a oneshot of The Very Good Dogs Of Chernobyl for jrwi how much how much money name your price i'll do anything

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fic Idea: Online Siren

Danny makes a mistake. Or maybe he struck gold. Depending on the perspective you were looking through.

It starts one night when Sam, Tucker, Danny, and Jazz get together for a private party on Tucker's birthday. Mr. and Mrs. Foley had let them have the whole house to themselves on the agreement that it would only be the four of them. They would be keeping an eye on the security camera and motion detectors around the property. At the slightest hints of Tucker having a house party, the pair would return from Mr. Foley's sister's house to shut it down.

The group of teenagers were more than happy not to invite anyone. It's not like anyone would show- at least not with good intentions. They had an entire night plan- coffee drinks based on their types, video games, boardgames ones, painting hour, karaoke, movies, and cake after presents.

They all pitched in for pizza, and Sam offered to buy everyone breakfast in the morning. The party started at four and would end at ten the following morning. The boys would sleep in Tucker's room while Sam and Jazz crashed in the guest room together.

Danny hadn't had that much fun in such a long time that he didn't even shy away from Sam's video camera while singing. The youngest Fenton has always had a fantastic singing voice, but his stage fright has stopped him from showing off his skill in front of anyone who was not close friends or family.

The following morning, while eating at Tucker's favorite breakfast restaurant, Sam checked her phone after noticing all the buzzing. Danny could catch her face turning pastly white at whatever was on her screen. She taps aggressively, nearly frantically, which gains the attention of Tucker and Jazz.

"Sam? Everything good?" Jazz asks gentely.

"I..no..I'm sorry, Danny," She whispers after staring hopelessly at her screen. "I meant to save it in our private share, not...the anonymous one."

"What?"

"I...post poetry anonymously on this voice website. It's audio recordings only." She explains, placing the phone on the table. Her voice is hesitant. "Last night....I accidentally posted the video of you singing from the Karaoke machine I saved. The one from the Realms. And some of my followers saved it and shared it. It's trending."

Danny feels his stomach drop into his legs. "What?"

"No one knows who you are!" Sam blurts as Tucker quickly pulls out his own phone. A few seconds later, Danny's voice blares out of his speaker, the melody blending well with his singing. The Karaoke has a recording option that deletes background noise, making it far more professional than four teenagers dancing around the Foley's coffee table.

"Dude, this sounds amazing," Tucker says after a moment. "I can't believe I finally have a recording of your singing. Just look at these comments!"

The song is an open domain in the Infinite Realms, telling the tell of the first King's fall. It's rather popular for its revolutionary themes and near musical lyrics that blended with the rapid flute melody, so finding a ghost willing to share a Karaoke version took nearly no effort. People online think Danny was the songwriter.

The song on Sam's page had ninty-thousand listens, with just as many downloads- each download places ten cents in her account. So far, Danny's singing has made nine thousand dollars. It's only been twelve hours!

It got so much traction because Damian Wayne had made an edit with a popular anime and posted it on his personal account. His small usage had exploded Danny's song in only a few hours.

"Take it down!" Danny hisses, slapping a hand over Tucker's screen and glancing at nearby tables. "Sam, please take your post down."

"I did! I swear! But it's too late to stop it from spreading on the WorldClip." She tells him, and Danny's heart feels like it will explode until Jazz gently speaks up.

"Sam, can Danny have those nine grand?"

His best friend blinks momently, thrown by the question before she nods, "Of course! It's his money."

"Hmm." Jazz taps her fingers under her chin before turning Danny's face towards her. It's not until her gentle pats on his back that he realizes he is hyperventilating. "You should post more on that anonymous website. Sam can write the songs, Tucker can make the music, and you can sing."

"What!?" He choked, shocked she would even ask him. Tucker and Sam are eyeing them with wide eyes, frozen in their seats. No one knew where the fear had come from, but the two knew how badly Danny reacted to the idea of performing.

Tucker first met Danny when the boy panicked in the music room. After it was announced, the students would be singing Twinkle Little Star in the first grade. It was the first time Tucker had ever called nine-one-one, too.

He was praised as a hero, while Danny was scolded for overreacting. Tucker had held his hand until the sobbing boy's parents came to pick him up and has never left his side since.

"Danny, this fear has always left you in shambles. I think it would help you. This could be a form of exposal therapy," She says, then shrugs her shoulder. "Think about it. No one will know who you are, but your music could reach thousands without you ever having to show your face. You could pay for the college you wanted to go to in Gotham this way. All of you."

Neither Danny's nor Tucker's parents could afford to send them to Gotham University despite it being their dream school. Sam's parents refused to pay for a "useless" degree such as Botany. They had been growing uneasy with the realization dreams were not always promised as the end of the senior year approached in only a few short months.

They would never ask it of him, but Danny could see the genuine hope tucked in their eyes as they waited for his response. He licked his lips, feeling his heart still beating a mile a minute under his rib cage.

He didn't like being this paralyzed by an irrational fear. He also really wanted to help them reach their dreams.

So Danny opens his mouth and whispers, "Only until we can get to Gotham to find jobs"

Jazz's smile is bright.

________________________________________________________

A few months later, Damian practically runs Tim over in his rush to connect to the game room's surround system. Jon is hot on his heels and has the decency to shout an apology as the pre-teens rush by.

"Hey! Watch it!" He still screams at their backs, irritated. "I could've dropped my croissant!"

"Sorry again Tim!"

"You're fat anyway, Drake!"

Tim rolls his eyes, adjusting his hold on his plate as Dick rounds the corner that the children had appeared from. "What's got them rushing?"

"Online Siren just dropped a new song." Dick laughs. "Dami is a bit of a fan."

"Online Siren?"

"That's right, you were in space for five months. Online Siren is this anonymous singer that everyone is going crazy over on the internet. He's an amazing singer, but because no one knows anything about him. Not even Babs."

Tim raises a brow. "He could be using autotune."

"Maybe, but Tim, I'm telling you. Listen to his music, and you'll find you can't stop. Siren is a fitting name."

"He can't be that good," Tim mutters, following his eldest brother into the game room, where Damian and Jon have blared the speakers to the loudest setting and dancing around.

Tim draws up short at the sight of Damian Wayne actually crying as he sings along to the lyrics, acting as if the singer was right there in front of him and he was a long-time fan.

Then, the music invades his ears, and Tim feels like he is ascending on a different plane. The smooth, near silk-like voice glinds into his chest, rattling his bones, and his knees shake when the man holds a soft, seductive "Oh" for a few seconds longer then necessary.

It sends shivers down his spine.

"What is this!? It's so good!" He screams at the dancing Dick, who laughs.

"I know, right!?"

"It's too good. I think this is a real siren." Tim continues, pressing his hands over his ears. His mind flashes back to the few months he spent with his team, running for a mind-controlling alien that had nearly trapped them in the third space sector. "Dick, we're in danger! Get around from the speakers! Mind control!"

Dick stops dancing with a sigh, muttering under his breath as Tim rushes to the control panel of the speaker system. As soon as he slams it off, Damian releases a screech of an angered cat and launches at him, demanding his music back. Jon flouts nervously on the side as the two youngest Waynes brothers roll on the ground, yelling insults and taking dirty shots.

"I wish I could enjoy things with my siblings without them ruining it." He mumbles, striding forward to break up the fight, only to scream when Tim pulls out pepper spray, yowling like a madman.

"Mind control! Mind control!"

"My EYES! "

"Drake, stop!"

"You'll never get me Siren! Never!"

".I'm going to go get Mr.Wayne!"

"Make haste, Jon! Bring my father to stop this baffoon-my eyes! Drake, you bastard!"

[duckybuiltwrong]

Christmas Carol- Platonic Y. Batfam

Chapter 1

CW: Decaying skin (not that descriptive, it is a ghost of a dead person.), hints at past abuse or neglect.

A cold and dark night is something that strikes fear into most of the criminals of Gotham. Running around this close to Christmas day was bountiful. Pickpocketing people with money that was meant to be spent on presents for their loved ones. This caused most criminals to take the chance, either to be caught by the Batman or come home with dollars on dollars, if the right people were robbed. Luckily for the criminals, Batman was not out on the streets. Oh, no. The indestructible, the unbeatable, the world’s greatest detective and father, was out of commission. Unable to work, clearly and terribly-

“I am not that sick,” Bruce held a firm face to Dick, as his eldest slowly led him away from the batcave, giving his siblings a quick nod to go ahead and start on their patrols, “I am not saying that you are dying. I am just saying you need a break. It is a low fever that can get worse-”

Bruce interrupted the young adult, “I am aware of how fevers work, these nights however,-” The young adult shot right back, “Can be handled by the rest of us- which is more than enough.” Dick said as he pressed the button to the elevator, letting Bruce get on as Dick stood in the elevator door, “I already texted Alfred, he should be giving you medication sooner or later. Please, actually get some rest and not try to be a hero for the next few nights.” Dick pleaded with his puppy eyes and Bruce was too tired to fight Dick on it, “Okay, only for the next few nights.” Bruce would never admit it though, Dick and him both knew that.

Resting, however, was not going to his own bed. No, for Bruce, it was going to his office in his own home and working. He was resting, his body could get the rest it required. The ache in his limbs and subtle headache would not slow the hero. Of course not, Batman never slows, but Bruce Wayne does. 

So in the study, where the Grandfather clock that belonged to Thomas Wayne and so forth sat, ticking away. The walls are lined with books or photos. The main one being a family portrait with its own space. Bruce in the chair as everyone from Dick to Duke surrounded him. Even Damian had stood still for it. Despite being raised by assassins, he still moved around like a child.

Bruce sat at his desk. His leather seat under him as he was in a white undershirt and blue plaid lounge pants. The room was lit by his desk’s lamp, the fireplace, and a scented candle. The same scent his father and him used to get every year, it was Bruce’s favorite.

As Bruce sat at the desk, his trashcan next to it was being filled with snotty tissues. Bruce was going over some of his company’s paperwork. Looking into charities, programs, and branches of his company. Using his computer to check the money spent and earned. Bruce knew it was early night, it got dark faster in these days of winter. The time should have been nine or ten o'clock, but as Bruce sat there, the grandfather clock struck. Bruce knew it was probably going to stop around the ninth to tenth ding but no, it went for more until twelve were given. 

As Bruce turned to look at the clock, he was confused. Bruce turned to the clock on his computer to see it was off, but staring at his face was not his. No, on the black screen of the computer was a ghostly figure. Bruce shot up from his seat. His feet planted firmly under him to hold his body up, the figure on the computer was gone. Bruce could not think much of it as a sudden, freezing, gust of wind hit his body. A shiver cruel and hard crawls up his body as the same gust of wind carries his paper off his desk. The gust alone was not what caused such a violent shiver to hit him however, no. It was the sound of the gust, it sounded like a distant wail.

Bruce sighed as he wrote it off, he was paranoid. A ‘worry wart’ as Alfred always called him. Bruce went around his desk to get the paper when another gust surrounded him. But instead of the quiet wail, it seemed almost louder, like a whisper in his ear. It sounded so heart broken and it made him a bit sick to his stomach. Bruce grabbed the paper and stood up tall, before marching over to his studies window. He was going to see who was crying outside of it, it could be a gardener. But when he opened the curtains abruptly, only the city stared back. Seeing the window completely locked and closed made Bruce think that something was not right. So as he closed the curtains again, he was spooked when the clock struck again. But it never stopped at one, no. It went all the way back to twelve.

The light from his desk started to go out as another harsh wind swept the room. The papers on his desk go flying. The fireplace crackled wildly and harshly before going out. The bulb on the desk lets out a popping noise as it too went out. Only the candle sat, untouched. But Bruce went to pick the papers up quickly. He watched as a zombified hand reached from behind the desk, reaching for the candle. His gut twisted as the index and thumb finger of the hand pinched the wick, the light leaving the room.

It did not stay dark though. A glow came from a figure now standing in front of the family portrait. Their hair was long and flowed with unseen or felt wind. It was a woman, the dress was a dead give away. But instead of it being a regular woman, she was decaying. Even as her back was to Bruce, he could see her arms and feet, flesh peeling off and muscle seen.

The chains on the figure also caught his eye. A chain trained from a children’s book to under her hair, a chain on her neck. Shackles on her wrists and ankles. The weights to those were other child related things. A teddy bear, a mostly ripped drawing, and a hairbrush were the more prominent things.

Bruce could see the light surrounding her, it was a cold blue. Lonely and sad, but as he watched her. The figure moved, not to him or towards the painting. No, their shoulders shook with force and they hunched forward. Their weighted hands holding their face as they let out a sob. As the figure cried, Bruce finally lets out a breath, but it came out as a puff of air. The type you could see in freezing temperatures. Bruce did not notice how cold it had gotten until then. Bruce needed to understand why this figure was in his home and what they wanted. 

Bruce stepped forward to talk to the ghost but his foot crunched on one of the weights on accident. A sudden tune came from the weight, a music box that had Winnie the Pooh on top of it. He was in a dancing pose as the figurine spun in a circle. Bruce could not dwell on it for too long because right after, the woman lets out a mighty scream towards Bruce. Bruce backed away on instinct as the woman glared at him. Her body turned around now and the light turned from a cold blue to a purple. It was dark and stung Bruce’s chest with a heavy weight of fear…no, it was anger. Rage. Bruce realized it was not his but her’s. She beat him to breaking the silence, “You dare break another thing of theirs?” She accused Bruce. 

“Of whose-” Bruce tried to speak but the woman looked horrified and  fearful, to angry and torn. The sides of her cheeks were held together by muscles. Her collarbone was poking through a sliver of decaying skin. “DO NOT ACT AS IF THEY ARE NOT KNOWN! THEY ARE YOURS!” She wailed. Bruce quickly knew he could not get anywhere with a woman who was this hysterical…woman? Maybe banshee, better suited the cries and wails coming from her. “Mine? Who is mine?” Bruce tried to calm the situation even though her feelings were clouding his. He wanted to cry so badly right now because of her. “They are not even in the picture.” The woman sunk to the ground as she sobbed. She looked over her shoulder at the photo. Her tears were the colors she reflected. Falling to the ground in a blueish purple to only dissipate after hitting the ground. The woman stood shakily. Her legs looked as if they would cave out from under her at any minute.

She took shaky steps to the painting which filled Bruce with sudden fear. The woman reached for a tear and started to touch the painting before Bruce could stop her. The tears burned into the painting as she drew precisely. A figure being drawn fast as the tears on her fingers seemed to have their own mind. So only a few seconds later, did the woman back up to look at the finished product. “Who is-” Bruce started as he stared at the unfamiliar person the woman drew onto the painting. 

The woman turned to Bruce as the books on the shelves started to shake and fly. Some only shake and others stay on their shelf. “You forget them?” The woman asked, so heart broken. “I entrusted them to you and you forget? Our baby?” The woman stepped closer to Bruce as he took a step back, “I am sorry-”

“Our Y/n- YOU FORGOT THEM!” She screeched the grandfather clock dung multiple times again and again, going past twelve. Bruce tensed up, “Y/n? I do not know a- I do, yes.” Bruce spoke suddenly to the woman. She seemed to relax at this. Looking down at her feet to the books. “You have no children's books.” she stated as she looked at her feet. Bruce nodded even as she could not see him, “Yes, I have no need for them.” She just clenched her fist, “They needed them at some point, did you buy them for Y/n?” The woman spoke and Bruce tensed again, he never realized he had relaxed with the energy from her glow. “They never asked for-”

“They should not have to.” The woman snapped at him. “INJUSTICE! YOU DO THIS AGAINST A CHILD AS THEIR FATHER! YOU SHOULD BUY THEM ANYWAY! YOU HAVE THE MONEY TOO.” The woman wailed as she marched to Bruce. She took one of the weights, which was the teddy bear on her left wrist, and picked it up like it weighed a boulder. Using it to throw it at his chair behind his desk. It went through his desk and landed in the chair, she used it to yank the chair against the desk until the chair moved the desk from her force in a quick motion. As she did, she screamed at Bruce which caused him to fall into his chair and she climbed onto him. Moving to clutch his chest, “our deed has done this to them. We did not love each other and now they are punished for it. Cut from our cloth only to be treated like its own garment. They were not prepared.” The woman looked at Bruce, they met eyes before she looked at his lips. “They were such a delicate piece of fabric, I should not have held it so thoughtlessly.” She moved to kiss his lips. Bruce was sitting there in complete shock and confusion. As she kissed his lips she looked back into his eyes. He was being kissed by the ghost of a corpse. 

“They are invited down from their room every Christmas, they just do not-” The woman pushed off of Bruce as he spoke. “DO NOT POINT BLAME FOR OUR INJUSTICE!” The woman grabbed at her face as her nails dug into her skin. Taking some off with her frantic flails. “DOWN FROM WHERE?! THEY HAVE LEFT! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE ONE THING TYING US HAS LEFT THE SAFETY OF YOUR HOME! Or what should be their safety. You shall be their downfall with your inactions.” She glared as tears fell. The room was freezing and the glass of the candle started to freeze over. The woman stared at Bruce as she suddenly seemed to break again with a wail. “You, you shall be punished Bruce. Three. Three but not me. You have three ghosts to see. Each of the cold and dark of night. To when the clock strikes twelve shall you see. Tonight and the next of it and of that one. I hope you suffer while alive and learn. For if you do not and you still live like this, you shall die like me.” And with that, the lights flickered and her glow disappeared, leaving him all alone with his thoughts and beating heart. 

He lets out a sneeze at the sudden feeling of his nose running. But as he looked for a tissue, the papers that were on the floor originally were back in their spots on his desk. The candle and fireplace back to their warm fire. The desk lamp was no longer out. The clock went back to its original time of 10:13, it was still the night of the twenty-first. The books were back on the shelves. But the painting, as it was back to its original sight, seemed so bare and empty. “When did they get that big?” Bruce whispered under his breath. You used to be at his knee. Yet the ghost, of what seemed to be your mother, drew you as a young adult. A knock on the door signified that Alfred was here for what was probably the first round of medications. Alfred had been close to you, right? Maybe he could answer these new found questions that had just surfaced from Bruce's mind and guilt.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Yvonne De Carlo (Frontier Gal, The Ten Commandments, Casbah)— Although most famous for playing Lily Munster in The Munsters, Yvonne De Carlo had a successful movie career throughout the 1940s and 1950s, appearing in such films as “The Ten Commandments”, “Sea Devils” and two Munster movies later in life.

Setsuko Hara (Tokyo Story, Late Spring, The Idiot)— "'The only time I saw Susan Sontag cry,' a writer once told me, his voice hushed, 'was at a screening of a Setsuko film.' What Setsuko had wasn’t glamour—she was just too sensible for that—it was glow, one that ebbed away and left you concerned, involved. You got the sense that this glow, like that of dawn, couldn’t be bought. But her smiles were human and held minute-long acts, ones with important intermissions. When she looked away, she absented herself; you felt that she’d dimmed a fire and clapped a lid on something about to spill. Over the last decade, whenever anyone brought up her lips—'Setsuko’s eternal smile,' critics said, that day we learned that she’d died—I thought instead of the thing she made us feel when she let it fall." - Moeko Fujii

This is round 2 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut]

Yvonne de Carlo:

The woman who brought Burt Lancaster to his knees.

Setsuko Hara:

One of the best Japanese actresses of all time; a symbol of the golden era of Japanese cinema of the 1950s After seeing a Setsuko Hara film, the novelist Shūsaku Endō wrote: "We would sigh or let out a great breath from the depths of our hearts, for what we felt was precisely this: Can it be possible that there is such a woman in this world?"

One of the greatest Japanese actresses of all time!! Best known for acting in many of Yasujiro Ozu's films of the 40s and 50s. Also she has a stunning smile and beautiful charm!

Linked gifset

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She's considered by some to be the greatest Japanese actress of all time! In Kurosawa's The Idiot she haunts the screen, and TOTALLY steals the show from Mifune every time she appears.

"No other actor has ever mastered the art of the smile to the same extent as Setsuko Hara (1920–2015), a celebrated star and highly regarded idol who was one of the outstanding actors of 40s and 50s Japanese cinema. Her radiant smile floods whole scenes and at times cautiously undermines the expectations made of her in coy, ironic fashion. Yet her smile's impressive range also encompasses its darker shades: Hara's delicate, dignified, melancholy smile with which she responds to disappointments, papers over the emotions churning under the surface, and flanks life's sobering realizations. Her smiles don't just function as a condensed version of her ever-precise, expressive, yet understated acting ability, they also allow the very essence of the films they appear in to shine through for a brief moment, often studies of the everyday, post-war dramas which revolve around the break-up of family structures or the failure of marriages. Her performances tread a fine line between social expectation and personal desire in post-war Japan, as Hara attempts to lay claim to the autonomy of the female characters she plays – frequently with a smile." [link]

Leading lady of classic Japanese cinema with a million dollar smile

Maybe the most iconic Japanese actress ever? She rose to fame making films with Yasujiro Ozu, becoming one of the most well-known and beloved actresses in Japan, working from the 30s through the 60s in over 100 hundred. She is still considered one of the greatest Japanese actresses ever, and in my opinion, just one of the greatest actresses of all time. And she was HOT! Satoshi Kon's film Millennium Actress was largely based on her life and her career.

[stevie-petey]

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.  “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.  It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything. 

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

-

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue Camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this English essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

-

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 24

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

The afternoon passes peacefully by the soft babble of the brook. Your forgotten friend stays with his camera but doesn’t bother you much. You remember him vaguely. Some years of your childhood seem to blend together but you recall the boy and his lawn mower. Your grandmother would give him a five dollar bill as your mom asked why you hadn’t offered to do it first. 

You’re more surprised that he remembers you. You’ve always been a side note. Nothing or no one special. More than ten years later and he seems almost happy to see you. Well, like he says, a familiar face can be a comfort when everything else is new. 

You still your pencil and look up at the sky then over your shoulder. Peter grabs onto the bridge and swings himself up from below. His camera hangs from a strap around his neck as he tidies his hair. He smiles as he comes across the bridge, his eyes flicking towards your sketchbook. 

You hesitate and turn the page towards him, showing him as your heart pulse. You don’t often share your work and the river scene is much more than your usual subject. He considers it, leaning in as he nods. 

“Wow, very nice,” he praises. “You’re very good at that. Not me,” he chuckles and scratches his neck, “the camera does all the work.” 

You close up the book with the pencil inside. You rock and look behind you once more. 

“Guess you should get going, huh?” He asks. 

You shrug. 

“Can I walk with you? I wouldn’t mind getting the lay of the land,” he offers. “Is it far?” 

You shake your head and press the book to your chest. You turn without a word and lead him across the bridge onto the paved path. You come up onto the sidewalk, the sun beating down hotly on your faded denim and heavy cotton. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your grandma,” he says, “she was a nice woman.” 

You nod and give a bittersweet smile. She could be, when she wanted to be. Other kids deserved kindness, but you, you were useless. 

“Can I show you something?” He asks as he grabs his camera and clicks the buttons, “here, look.” 

He turns the little screen to you and shades it with his hand. You look at you keep your feet moving. A monarch butterfly floats above a broken dandelion, just beyond the river’s edge. The framing brings the eye right to its colourful wings. 

“Pretty,” you say.  

“Huh, yeah,” he lets the camera hang again. “Just a bit of fun. A hobby between classes.” 

You chew your lip and don’t comment on the last part.  

“Engineering,” he supplies, “heavy duty. You go to school?” 

You don’t react as you squeeze the edges of your sketchbook. You look down, your soles scuffing on the pavement. You frown and shake your head. 

“Ah, well, you know, it’s not for everyone. You sell your art?” 

You pop your head up and look at him. Huh?

“Yeah, I’m sure you could sell that if you made it digital or something,” he points to your book. 

Maybe but you don’t have a computer or a tablet or anything like that. You won’t let him know all that. You just shrug and keep walking. 

“Anyway,” he laughs off the awkward silence. 

You look ahead as you come in sight of the house. You see Steve’s car in his driveway and your insides mulch. They’re home. You stop at the corner and face Peter. 

“I’ll walk from here,” you insist. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t mind.” 

“It’s okay,” you say. “Thanks.” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around,” he grins. 

“Maybe.” 

You tramp off and glance behind you, only to make sure he doesn’t follow. He watches but stays on the corner. You turn ahead as you near the front gate of your mother’s house. Your name frightens you as it comes from the other side of the fence. 

“Where were you?” Steve charges down his front steps, so quick and determined that you wince and stumble onto the grass as you look at him. “We were looking for you.” 

“Oh,” you bat your eyes. 

“Oh?” He echoes, “sweetie, we were worried.” 

“I... went for a walk.” 

He looks you up and down, the lines in his forehead lessening as he heaves a breath. He still wears his nice shirt and trousers, but his tie is gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His gray hair is neat but for a shank that threatens to fall down his forehead. 

“Drawing?” He asks. You nod. “You should leave a note, next time.” 

“Sorry,” you bite your lip and notice how his eyes catch on that gesture. 

“Your mom’s a bit out of it. It’s been a really long day for her and the last thing she needed was to worry about you,” he shakes his head and crosses his arms. You slump and look at your feet. Your mom worried about you? “I just got her to lay down, I told her I’d find you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat louder, “okay?” 

“Sweetie, I’m just looking out for you. We’re a family now, aren’t we?” 

Your jaw clenches and you stare at him blankly. He keeps saying that but you don’t know. You and your mom were barely that. She just tolerates you. 

“Sorry if I seem impatient,” he says, “we need to talk about some things.” 

“Talk?” You swallow dryly.  

You think you know what he wants to say but you thought he might wait until tomorrow. Your skin buzzes. Your future has always been dull and predictable; just another day with your mom, at home. Now, you might lose both. 

“Come on, it’s still sunny out, we’ll sit out back and I’ll make some lemonade.” 

You try to hide your uncertainty but you can’t feel it straining in your cheek. You put your head down and go around to his side of the picket fence. He waits for you to go ahead of him and leads you around the side of the house. He takes you onto the deck and you sit at the table. 

“Don’t wanna wake your mom,” he says, “I’ll be right back.” 

You stare out at the yard. It’s still very unreal to you. They’re married but everything still looks the same. The distant shouts of child drift in the air and the steady rustle of leaves rises from bushes and trees alike. The sunlight grows unbearable as you sit in its blaze. 

The sliding door shuts and Steve plunks down two glasses of lemonade before he sits. He shifts and adjusts, pulling the chair around closer to you and puts his elbow on the table. He watches you as you avoid looking back at him. 

“Thirsty? You must be hot, why don’t you come in the shade?” He suggests.  

You don’t say a word. You sit there behind a wall, waiting for it to shatter. You grip your book in your lap and stare at the bright green grass. 

“Ahem, so, sweetie,” he clears his throat, “I know this has all been so sudden but... me and your mom talked this out in every direction. After what happened, the hospital, well, she needs help. Professional help. She needs a nurse. Someone to come look after her a few hours a day. And... the invoice wasn’t easy to look at either...” 

He lets his words hang. You and your mom aren’t well off. You never have been. You live in that suburb by the grace of your grandmother’s bequeathal. An emergency room visit isn’t cheap and a nurse is completely beyond your stipend. You frown. 

“But...” you blink. “I take care of mom. I...” you feel bad to mention the money but it’s your only income, even if most of it goes back to her. 

“I know, honey, we talked about that too,” he leans forward and caresses your arm, just above your elbow, “and it’s okay. I told you, I’m going to take care of you both. I’m here to support you. Maybe... maybe you could find something else to earn some money. I know a few gallery owners...” 

You keep your head down as goosebumps rise under his touch. It crawls up under your loose sleeve. You shrink down further. 

“Maybe... I’m not that good.” 

“Who told you that?” He continues to tickle you, more firmly as he shifts closer. “I know it’ll be strange at first, sweetie, but we all just need to get used to each other.” 

You stretch your hands across your sketchbook and go rigid. 

“It’s okay if it’s a lot to process. Take your time,” his hand creeps along your shoulder and down the back, edging along your bra. What is he doing? 

You croak, “okay.” 

“You know, sweetie,” he retracts his hand from your sleeve and tugs it straight. You wince as he leans forward and nudges your chin up, “today was intense but I don’t want you to be unhappy.” 

You just stare at him. What does he want you to say? You can barely think straight. 

“And screw what that waiter said, that dress looked gorgeous on you,” he smiles and drags his fingertips down your neck, his eyes following them, “it fits you perfectly.” 

You clasp your sketchbook tight as heat roils around you. It must be the humidity or the sunlight boiling you from the inside. His hand dances along your tee shirt and he sits back, balling his hand up as he rests it on his thigh. 

“Here, let me show you,” he lifts one hip and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, “look.” 

He flicks through his phone and brings up a photo. He turns the screen towards you and you reluctantly glance at it. You lean in as you can hardly make it out at first. It’s zoomed in so it’s just you and Steve. You cringe at how your chest seems about to burst from the dress. Your gaze trails down to his fingers curled into your side and sensation ripples up your spine at the memory. 

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he says, “having a nurse, well, that means you’ll get to enjoy this very exciting time in your life.” 

You sit back. You can’t look at the picture again. It’s awful. You hate it. 

There’s a tap on the door and you flinch. Steve sits back stiffly and cranes to see over his shoulder. He blacks the phone screen and stands slowly, his hand grazing over his belt and giving a subtle tug. The fabric along the front tents as if creased. You don’t know, you hardly look at the odd bulging. You don’t even know how you noticed. 

He spins and waves at your mom as she leans weakly against the inside of the sliding doors. 

“Must be her new meds,” he says, “I’ll be back, sweetie.” 

[subtly-a-selkie]

OMG IM SO NERVOUS KDJSB

but like imagine hiro with an s/o who loves to collect random stuff or like picks up rocks and gives them to hiro and is like “here this rock reminded me of you” ODMSJSHHA

i absolutely adore this ask! it might just be because i do the same thing but i’m really excited to write it. I’m so so so sorry for the delay, i had surgery in july and have been recovering since then, plus the Anniversary was last month. (yes that's a long time but please cut me some slack I have been doing my best) anyways i hope you like it! because its been so long since i started it, i wrote it a little differently than usual. it's like a little collection of moments.

also! not only do I now have an ao3, but i also have a taglist! both are linked in my navigation.

Word count: A little over 1k :)

Warnings: Big Hero Six: The Series lore thrown in (Bessie is a meteorite bear, yes it is as weird as it sounds). We are going to pretend I payed for my own matcha ice cream and know how much it was. San Fransokyo cable cars are officially Not That Expensive because I said so. i apparently really like the word intertwine

"I'm back!" You exclaim, sitting down on Hiro's bed to look at him. He was still in the same position as when you had left, staring blankly at his computer screen, he had been trying to fix something on Baymax's suit and you could tell by his slumped posture he hadn't succeeded yet. He brightens up at your voice, and rolls his chair around to face you.

"How was your adventure into the woods?" He asks, pressing the save button on his document.

"Your phrasing makes it sound like there was a seventy percent chance that I would have dropped dead as soon as I heard a bird that isn't a pigeon."

"There's moose, mosquitos, and Bessie in those woods Y/N. I'd say eighty."

"Bessie likes me Hiro. Because I appreciate nature while you would rather wither away staring at a screen."

"Bessie doesn't like anyone. She's a bear."

"A bear that likes me." You retort, laughing at his expression. "Oh! I got you something!" You rummage in your bag and pull out a rock. "Its shaped like Mochi!" 

"So a round rock." Hiro says and you gasp, cupping your hands around Mochi's ears, who had taken up residence on your lap almost as soon as you had sat down on the bed.

"Don't listen to him Mochi you are perfectly cat shaped." You coo at the cat who meows smugly in response.

Hiro takes the rock from where it lay on the bed, you had abandoned it in favor of the real Mochi, turning it over in his hands. You're right, he admits to himself, it does look uncannily like Mochi, even having discoloration where he has his patches. He moves his gaze to you and smiles, setting rock Mochi down on his desk. 

"You know that ice cream place you've been wanting to go to? The one with matcha ice cream?" 

You lift your head from your fussing over Mochi at his voice and smile back at him. "Yeah?"

He responds by standing up and pulling a ten dollar bill out of his pant pocket, then intertwining your fingers and pulling you up off the bed. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

"Hi." You say intertwining your arms around Hiro's shoulders. He's sitting in his chair playing video games with Fred, and you're leaning against the back of the chair.

"Hi." He replies, as you rest your head where his neck meets his shoulder. You stay like that for a bit until his character dies and he disconnects the call, much to Freds chagrin if the whining from Hiro's speakers is anything to go by. He then spins his chair around so you are face to face.

"Hi." He repeats watching as your face brightens in remembrance.

"Oh! I have something for you." You pull a dark feather out of your pocket, smoothing it out before handing it to him. "It reminded me of you." 

"A feather reminded you of me?" He says  as he turns over in his hands.

"Yeah! It's the exact color of your hair."

"I don't think my hair is this pretty in the light though." He's twisting the feather through a sun beam, watching as the hidden iridescent colors are showcased. He turns suddenly, and places it with the Mochi rock, a patterned paper crane, and a few other items.

He turns back to you and opens his arms, you accept the offer for a hug almost immediately, resting your head back on where his neck meets his shoulder.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Your hands rake through the smooth quartz, and you turn a couple over in your hand before moving on to a different plastic box of crystals. You stop when you've chosen one and risk a glance over at Hiro. He is looking at the things you had handed him, the things that you picked out for yourself, this particular crystal is for him though, and you have to somehow pay for it without him noticing. Curling your hand into a fist to hide it, you tug on Hiro's jacket.

"I've found everything I need." You say smiling at him, he nods and leads the way to the cashier, placing your things on the counter, and reaching for his wallet. 

"You paid for the food, I can pay for my things." He pauses.

"You sure?" 

"Yeah." You wait until he's looking at what they have set up next to the counter to add the crystal to your other things, making eye contact with the cashier and then flicking your eyes over to your boyfriend. She seems to have caught your message, and wraps the crystal in tissue paper, along with a couple of the more delicate items.

"Would you like a bag?" She asks

"Yes please." You take the bag from her and intertwine your fingers with Hiro's, leading the both of you out of the shop and onto the streets of San Fransokyo.

"Where should we go next?" He asks you, bringing you closer to him by tugging on your hand, then lifting your joined hands and pressing a kiss to the back of yours. 

"Hm." Your eyes scan the street you and Hiro are on, and your eyes light up at a banner that showcases the aquariums deep sea exhibit. You gasp, and turn to look at Hiro.

"You want to go the the aquarium?" He asks before you can say anything, and you nod enthusiastically. Luckily there's a cable car stop just up ahead, and you both sit on the bench as you wait. Hiro takes a drink of his water and you dig around in your bag to find his gift.

"I have something for you." You say. Hiro finishes zipping up his backpack and turns to look at  you. You hand him the wrapped crystal and he unwraps it, turning the smooth rock over in his palm, and reading the little card that came with it.

"Did you get this at the shop we were just at?" He asks, a slight laugh to his tone.

"Yes." You grin at him and more of a laugh makes its way into his voice.

"I love it." He slips it into one of his backpack pockets and intertwines your fingers once more, resting his head on yours.

People tagged <3

@oyasumimosura your hiro fic is on my list but here's something in the meantime

[storm-angel989]

Eres jodidamente estúpida, niñita?

MAJOR SHOUT OUT TO absolut3lyn0t  for ALL the help with editing and for teaching me Spanish! I can't WAIT to use the things I've learned in the Outside The Office series!

Enjoy!!

I strutted across the stage with the confidence instilled in me by three of hell's most powerful overlords. My hair on point, my smile perfected, my outfit, killer. And my VoxTech watch that served as a location tracker? Sitting in my locker at school alongside my phone. As far as my family knew, I was staying late for volleyball tryouts. 

Walking through my highschool hallways, it was impossible to miss the plethora of help wanted posters plastered all over the walls. The job description was simple, requiring nothing more than excellent customer service skills and a large, bolded eighteen plus only need apply. The pay started five dollars above minimum wage, with the promise of hefty cash tips. 

The money was really what caught my attention. After listening to my father bitch about last month’s credit card bill, I decided it was time I started working, without the hovering of my father, my Uncle Valentino or my Aunt Velvette. I needed money that wasn’t connected to them in any way, shape or form- dollars I could spend how I pleased, and without their input. Unfortunately for me, my father owned VoxTech, the biggest company in all of hell. Even as his daughter, I couldn’t be sure where its tendrils spread. Whatever job I chose, I needed to fly under the radar. 

School first, you have more than you need and access to anything you could possibly want. Is what my father had told me when I first asked if I could start working. You have no reason to get an afterschool job. Focus on being sixteen, kiddo. 

And I knew damn well if my location popped up in some new place consistently, I would be discovered and forced to quit on the spot. So as soon as I made the decision to apply, I made it a point to tell my family I was trying out for the volleyball team. 

Glad to see you decided to leave behind that silly job idea, my father had said over sips of his morning coffee. Believe me, someday you’ll wish you didn’t have to work so much. 

As if. 

I walked into the address listed on the flyer, noting the shift in scenery as I made my way deeper downtown. Open interviews, they called it, two pm to ten pm. I had already filled out the application on the bottom of one of them, if you could even call it that. Three easy to answer questions. 

Age? I filled in eighteen.

Availability? After School hours. 

Size? I scribbled down the number. 

I followed the directions to the address on the flyer and handed my application to the demon at the door.  The place itself looked a little run down, done up in red, black and gold. But it certainly gave the appearance of being a high end facility- especially with the long stage and the pole at the center. 

I was quickly ushered inside and seated across from a shark demon in a red fedora. He looked me up and down and just like that, I was handed a uniform of red and hired me on the spot for the shift that started ten minutes ago. 

“With your body, I mean, your smile, you’ll make an excellent addition to our team,” he praised. 

“What exactly is my job title?” I asked as he led me to the dressing room.   

“Waitress,” he responded easily. “But really, you’ll do a little bit of everything. And don’t worry, we’ll provide everything you need.” 

The first few days were simple. The manager assigned me a false name the first day, and I quickly learned that while I was working, that’s the only name that was called. Honestly, it was the most difficult part. The rest was relatively simple. 

Every two hours the girls were required to meet behind the stage, walk across and out down to the pole, take a swing around with a smile as an announcer introduced us by name. It was nice, honestly, to be valued like that. The rest of the responsibilities were easy. Dress up, smile, flirt, take drink orders and find a reason to bend over. To say I didn’t enjoy it would be a lie. The money was good but the attention? Even better.

The fourth day, however, the manager pulled me aside at the start of my shift. 

“Hey, reader. The big boss is coming in. Check out his new hires. I’m putting you with him. Be extra nice. He’s known for leaving hefty tips and promoting on the spot. Trust me, you’re gonna want to keep him happy.” And with that, he pushed me towards the stage. 

After introductions, I put on my biggest smile, adjusted my dress so that it revealed just a little bit more and walked confidently over to the VIP booth. Time to impress the boss. 

“Hi boys, how are we doing tonight?” I purred as sultry as I could. “My name is Reader’s False Name and I’ll take care of anything that you desire.” I leaned forward onto the table. “And I do mean anything…” I reached out and set my hand on the red jacket of the man I assumed was the boss. “What can I get you tonight, sir?” 

He looked up at me and instantly, his expression turned to anger. Cold fear shot through me as I recognized the all too familiar features.

“U-uncle Valentino? Wh-what are you doing here?” I stammered as I took a step back. 

“The better question is what are you doing here, niñita?” He growled as he stood up. He pulled his coat off and yanked it around my shoulders, effectively covering my entire body. He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me towards the back towards the dressing rooms. The door slammed shut behind us. 

I tried to wriggle away, “I work here! I got an afterschool job after Dad got on my case last month.” 

I didn’t think his expression could twist into deeper disgust. 

“I changed your diapers! You can’t be working in my clubs!” He snarled. 

I crossed my arms. “Uncle Val, I’m sixteen!”

“Eres jodidamente estúpida?” He took a deep breath. “That’s half the issue! Who even checked your age una perra ciega?! What fuckwit hired you?” He paused and pulled out his phone. “You know what? It doesn’t fucking matter. You’re fired. Whoever hired you is fired, hell I might shut this entire fucking club down. Oh, and it goes without saying that you’re fucking grounded!”

I looked at him incredulously. “You’re grounding me for getting an afterschool job?”

“No, reader, I’m grounding you for taking an afterschool job at a strip club! Oh, and for leaving your watch at school. We make you wear that for your own safety, muñeca! You could have been killed, or raped or worse!” 

He grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me towards the front door.  I caught my father’s name on his phone screen and my heart sank even deeper. Fuck. 

 “You’re going home with me right now, bebita. And keep my jacket on, I don’t want to see your tits ever again.” He practically spat as he shoved me into his awaiting limo. 

I sat next to him for the duration of the ride, my arms crossed as I listened to the phone call between him and my Dad. From what it sounded like, I was about to meet my maker.

“Phone. Now.” He demanded as he outstretched his hand. “Or did you leave that at school too?”

At least he sounded a bit more calm. Maybe I wouldn’t be in as much trouble as I thought. 

“It’s in my locker,” I mumbled. “Along with my homework. So if we could stop on our way home…”

“Delay the inevitable all you want, your father is pissed. And so am I.”

“Yeah, I got that,” I mumbled as we stopped in front of the school. “I’ll go in and…”

He snorted in amusement. “Like hell you will. I’ll go inside and get it for you. What’s your locker number and combination?” He leaned forward, “it’s in your best interest to tell me, niñita.” 

He was probably right. I sank back as I watched him walk into the front office of the school as if he owned the place. Come to think of it, there was probably a high chance that one of the three did have some sort of control over the school. I leaned my head against the window as I waited. I would never be allowed to grow up, hell, after this Dad might not even let me leave the V tower. 

Valentino stalked out of the school moments later, my pink backpack slung over his shoulder, and one of the flyers in his hand. The other hand held his phone and I winced at the furious slurry of English and Spanish came flying out of his mouth. Several curses later, he ended the call and turned to me. 

“Any of your other amicico’s get involved in this? Fess up now, or I promise I will make sure that you lose every privilege you have.”

“Not that I know of,” I mumbled quietly as I pulled his jacket tighter around myself. “And I would tell you if I did.” 

“I would hope so, cariño,” he grumbled as the limo stopped. “Word of advice? I would go straight to your room and change. The less of you your father sees, the better.” 

We rode in silence in the elevator and as we stepped off, I came face to face with the furious faces of my father, Vox, and my Aunt Velvette. Uncle Valentino walked towards them and wordlessly pointed to my room. I tried to scurry away as quickly as I could. 

“Change, wipe that clown makeup off your face and get your ass to the living room,” I heard my father shout. 

I thought the makeup was pretty, I said to myself sarcastically as I stood in my bathroom shower, scrubbing it off. Without the makeup remover the restaurant, or should I call it a club, provided, taking it off took ten times longer. I pulled on my leggins and a sweatshirt and braided back my now wet hair, hopeful that by removing any trace of the club I would somehow lighten the punishment that was sure to come. I slowly made my way out to the living room. 

“Come sit, little princessa,” Valentino gestured. “Join us.”

I kept my eyes down as I made my way across the living room and sank into my usual seat on the couch. 

“Look at us, reader,” my fathers authoritative voice filled the air. “And start talking. The floor is yours.”

A few heartbeats of silence while I tried to gather my thoughts. 

“You know, staying quiet won’t help your case,” Velvette interjected. “Come on, talk to us. Honestly, I think it’s pretty funny.”

“There is nothing funny about seeing my little princessa half naked, tits out, in my own fucking club,” Valentino shot back. He mumbled something in Spanish that sounded vaguely insulting.

“And let’s not forget the danger you put yourself in,” Vox added. “You left your phone and tracker in your locker at school. You’re lucky I don’t have the doctor put a chip in your arm.”

“I didn’t know it was a strip club, okay?” I said in exasperation. “I just wanted to make my own money! I got mad when Dad went through the credit card bill last month and I just, I just wanted privacy and to buy what I want without being questioned! And I’m willing to work to earn it, but Dad wouldn’t let me.”

“Reader. You’re sixteen. You need to focus on schoolwork, grades and being a teenager- you’ll have plenty of time later in life to…” my father began.

“Vox, her request isn’t unreasonable,” Velvette cut him off.  She looked thoughtful. “Nor is your idea about the chip in her arm.”

All three of us stared at her in disbelief for completely different reasons. 

“I am not letting Dad put a chip in my arm-” I began.

“She is not going out to work,” my Dad shouted at the same time.

“Eres jodidamente estúpida?” Valentino added. “The fuck, Velvette?” 

A grin slowly crept across her face. “Well then, it seems we have a few bargaining chips on the table, don’t we?”

“I don’t like where this is going,” I said.

“Yeah, neither do I,” my father added. 

“Well the way I see it, we have a few options and plenty of room for compromise,” she said with a glance at Valentino. “On one hand, reader could concede and let Vox put a chip in her arm in exchange for being allowed to get a job. Or she could come work for one of us, and have the money deposited in a private account. Or a third option, Vox if you’re so hell bent on her focusing on school, and she wants privacy so damn bad, let her open her own account in her own name and deposit money into it each week. This way she gets the privacy she wants, and you get her staying focused on her studies.” 

“I’m not letting you put a tracker in my arm, so that options out,” I replied.

“And I don’t want you working at all- not for me, not for Velvette, and certainly not for Valentino,” Vox added. 

A look of understanding broke across Valentino’s face and he grinned widely. He leaned back, “then I suppose the third option is the only one that fits, hm amicito?” He took a sip, “I do have to ask though princessa. How exactly did you plan on cashing your paychecks without your own account?”

I felt myself turn red. “I…wasn’t planning on cashing them and just using my tips.”

“I can’t decide if that’s clever or stupid,” Vox muttered. “But fine. We’ll go open your own bank account tomorrow and I promise to keep my eyes off of it. But you need to promise to keep focused on your studies, got it?”

“Deal!” I said excitedly. 

“Also, I think you owe your Uncle Val an apology more so than any of us. I haven’t seen him that scarred since, well, I’ve never seen him that upset.” Vox added. 

“Sorry, Uncle Val,” I muttered. 

He looked pained, “you’re growing up, mi amore. But this isn’t the place for you to be, ever again. I fear what would have happened to you if I hadn’t chosen to come in tonight.” He stood up and planted a kiss on my forehead. 

“Your jackets in my room, Uncle Val. I promise I’ll give it back,” I muttered as embarrassment flushed through my face. “I guess it was kinda sketchy.”

“Common sense, niñita. I cannot wrap my mind around why you didn’t turn around as soon as you stepped into that neighborhood.” He turned to walk towards the kitchen. “Discussion for tomorrow night, I suppose.” 

I frowned, “what’s tomorrow night?”

“Oh, you didn’t hear? Your papi, Aunt Velvette and I came up with a brilliant consequence, if I do say so myself.”

Dread knotted in my stomach. Uncle Valentino was well known to be the most…creative in his punishments. 

“I signed you up for volleyball, mi amore. After all, isn’t that what you wanted to do?” He gave me a wicked grin. “And I’ll be the one…ensuring you arrive in a timely manner for the next eight weeks. And don’t worry, your papito already brought you all the equipment you’ll need.” 

I groaned. This had the potential to be not only incredibly embarrassing in terms of my abilities, but also I somehow doubted he would sit there quietly. The image of him sitting on the bleachers, screaming into the phone, cursing in Spanish and English made me want to die right then and there. “Uncle Val, I hate sports. And I hate team sports even more.”

“Then maybe next time you’ll think before becoming a stripper, hm conejito?”He patted the top of my head and sashayed towards the kitchen. 

He couldn’t be that angry if he was using my childhood nickname. I leaned back on the couch and tucked my knees up. 

“You’re lucky that's your only consequence,” my father grumbled as he scrolled through his phone. “That chip idea isn’t off the table, you know.”

“We’ll get your bank account set up after your grounding is done,” Velvette reassured me. “In the meantime, what do you all want to do for dinner?”

Thank god Velvette was the master at changing the subject.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: I found a Benny Watts one-shot hidden in my drafts, I had forgotten about. Here it is, please enjoy!

Most likely has grammar errors-

Pairing: Benny Watts x Reader

——————♟️——————

Benny huffs standing up and goes to retrieve his wallet from his coat pocket, before handing me my money. I smiled, cheekily, before plucking the cash out of his hand.

“Thank you, baby.” I stand and peck his lips, but he pulls away abruptly. “Yeah, yeah.”

“All’s fair in love and war, or love and chess. More like..” He rolls his eyes, going over to set the chess pieces back to its original state. And I look at the cash in my hand.

“Hold up, Benny.” I hold the cash up to him. “I won thirty, you gave me twenty.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s wasn’t in the rules.”

“There were no rules to begin with.” I roll my eyes and huff. “Yeah, you won those games fair and square, Congrats.” He congratulated me and placed a kiss to my forehead. “But since you are living under my roof-”

“It’s not a roof, it’s a floor, but continue.”

“I decided to take ten from it, as compensation, if you will.” He explained and I nod my head understandingly. “Right, so if I was to leave, would I be able to have my ten back? Considering I’m not living under your roof at that point.”

He thought about it before grabbing his wallet again, and just my eyes follow him, as he digs out another ten, handing it to me. “Is this your way of telling me, you don’t want me to leave, Benny-boo?” I said, as we both cringed at the nickname.

He sighed, looking at my eyes, before nodding his head slightly. I place and hand on his chest, as I stepped closer, feeling that his heart had picked up speed.

I don’t know, if it was from me, pretending to leave or me putting a hand on his chest. But it genuinely broke my heart seeing a man, who lets nothing get to him. Gets extremely nervous around me, and the fact that I might leave him.

But I must be stupid, drunk or both to leave him. Cause I would never make decision like that sane nor sober.

“Benny?” He refused meet my eye. “You didn’t actually think, I was going to leave you, did you?” I try look into his eyes, but he stared off into a corner of the room.

“Benny..” I started, absolutely devastated and saddened, that he truly thought I would. “Benny, look at me..” It took him some time before he made eye contact with me. By the time he did, you could tell his unshakable and tough demeanor had been torn.

“Benny, I would never, in a million years, leave you.” I said, holding his face in my hands. “You’re just the most amazing and remarkable person, I’ve ever met. You’re sweet, funny, talented..”

He looks away quickly, wiping a tear that had managed to fall. I redirect his face to look at me again. “And incredibly incredibly, handsome. You hearing me?”

“Why would I want to leave and find someone else, when I have the only one I want, right in front of me?”

“You might not see it, but take my word for it, I’m staying here, cause it’s were I belong.” I pat his cheek and leans him down to kiss his forehead, we stand there for a bit, before he collected his barrings, and wiped away any fallen tears.

“Wanna play another round?” He asked, sitting at the table. “Definitely. But before I forget,” I hand him the ten dollar bill, and he looks at me confused.

“It’s for compensation, remember? I wouldn’t want to get kicked out of your house.” I said, as I sat and he rolled his eyes, putting the bill underneath his thigh. “So, what are we playing for now?”

He thinks, before leaning forward with a mischievous grin on his face. “How bout, whomever losses, has to take off an article of clothing. Winners choice.”

“Are you just trying to get me naked, Benny?” He leans back in his chair, hair falling over his right eye. “Only if you agree to the terms and conditions.”

“You’re on, and there’s no way in hell, I’m losing to Benny Watts..”

[ahonice]

it doesn't matter

jamie drysdale x fem reader (ft. trevor zegras)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: drinking, sexual themes and mentions of sex, cursing, jamie being a fake swiftie (dw that is taken care of), reader has a guilty conscious, fluff (some angst i think), happy ending (those are rare on this blog), not proofread because i accidentally queued this so it posted on its own oops

note: i rewrote this about three times over the past two months, hope you guys are pleased with the final outcome. any and all feedback is greatly appreciated. hope you guys enjoy. have a great day, love y’all babes <3 !!!

+++

“hey you’re single right?” your head shot up at the sound of trevor, one of your closest friends, voice. you had known trevor since you moved to anaheim for college, on your first day in town he accidentally took your coffee from the pickup area at starbuck and you chased him down because you would be damned if you spent ten dollars on an iced coffee that you wouldn’t of been able to drink. it would’ve been a lie if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, he was so funny and kind and not to mention the fact that he is genuinely gorgeous, but you never acted on anything because you were worried he wouldn’t reciprocate your feelings, and the fact that the two of you have had one too many drunken, and a couple sober, hookups didn’t help either.

“of course i am, or else what we did last night would’ve been morally wrong, why?” your heart rate picked up, thoughts running a mile a minute. was he about to ask you out? did he actually like you back the way you dreamed he did? was our relationship finally gonna be something more than friends who fuck at times?

“i wanna set you up with my roommate, jamie. i think you guys would like each other.”

+++

it was a crushing blow, not only did trevor just inadvertently just tell you your feelings are one sided, but that they are so one sided that he thinks his roommate would be a better match for you than himself. you felt sick to your stomach, this was in no way a heartbreak, but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt.

“earth to y/n.” trevor’s voice shook you from your trance, you had completely forgotten he was there. “you good? you haven’t said a word in like five minutes.”

“yeah i’m fine, um who is this guy? i don’t think i’ve heard you talk about a jamie before.” you wanted this to be a joke, for trevor to say he was kidding, maybe jamie wasn’t real and he just wanted to see if i was open to a relationship right now. 

“well he’s on the ducks as well, seems like your type. brunette with blue eyes, he’s got nice eyebrows too, just a couple weeks older than you, i know you don’t like extremely tall guys so him being 5’11 is perfect.” the more trevor went on about jamie the more you realized that jamie was in fact a real person and did seem like my exact type. “he has freckles too, i know you love those on guys and he looks good in the color green, he checks off all your boxes y/n.” you hated that he did. 

“can i see a picture before i agree to anything?” you didn’t want trevor to get suspicious when you said no, so you wanted to seem like you were at least considering it.

“absolutely.” looking over at trevor’s phone you let out a small sound of surprise.

he was gorgeous

“trevor why have you never told me about him before?” you said, grabbing his phone to go through all of his instagram posts. “he is literally beautiful!” 

“i honestly didn’t even think about it, but jamie saw you at our party last week and asked about you and i knew i had to make you two happen.” trevor said, taking his phone back. “come over tonight. we’re having a party before the season starts, you’ll be able to meet jamie.”

+++

it didn’t take you very long to get ready, your hair and makeup having already been done from your errands earlier in the day, but you did struggle picking out an outfit as every twenty year old girl would. you didn’t quite know who it was that you were dressing up for, in previous months it was always trevor. you were always hoping that he would see you and you would end up staying with him until the morning. while that was usually the case, the second part of your fantasy never came true. the part where trevor realizes he has feelings for you that go further than seeing you as a good fuck. but now there was jamie, you hadn’t even met him yet and you were still wanting to impress him. maybe trevor would see you with jamie and it would make him realize his feelings for you. but jamie seemed nice, once trevor left you looked him up and watched a few too many tiktoks and interviews involving him, he seemed like the polar opposite of trevor and that might just be what you need, it also doesn’t hurt that he was just about one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life, trevor was not lying when he said that jamie was your exact type. settling on a simple pink top and black jeans you made your way towards the uber trevor had ordered for you, palms sweaty and legs slightly shaking as you confirmed where you were headed before you saw your apartment complex disappear in the distance. 

+++

“y/n thank god you’re here, i was starting to think you were pussying out.” trevor loudly yelled as he approached you, great he was already at least three drinks in. “catch up” he said once he was standing in front of you, handing you a beer. 

“i don’t drink this crap, you know this.” you said, shaking your head as trevor silently continued to push the can in your face.

“fine, i bought you some caymans. they’re in the garage fridge, but don’t take too long, jamie is excited to meet you.” you ignored the way his eyebrows wiggled as you began walking towards the garage.

once you were in there you grabbed two drinks, just so you wouldn’t have to come back out for at least half an hour, as well as a shooter. you needed the liquid confidence that would come from the tiny bottle of pink whitney. 

once you made your way back into the party you walked around looking for trevor, stopping a couple of times to greet those you knew, before you found him sitting with the man of the hour.

“y/n! come here, meet jamie.” trevor waved you over, you took a generous sip of the alcohol in your hand before making your way over, sitting down on the couch. trevor in the middle of us, as he began rambling to no one in particular about something you didn’t quite know, your ears tuning him out as the sound of your heartbeat in your ears took over all your senses. 

“y/n, are you even listening to me?” trevor asked you, gently poking the exposed part of your waist.

“no.” the laugh you heard after that made a bush creep up your neck, jamie’s laugh was just as beautiful as he was.

“rude, anyways y/n this is jamie. jamie, this is y/n.” he motioned the two of you towards each other as he talked, jamie reached in front of him to offer you his hand. “now get to know one another, i’m gonna go play pong.” trevor stood up before you could protest him leaving you alone with jamie.

you expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. conversation was flowing between the two of you like you had known each other for years, you talked about the basics, what tv shows you enjoyed, favorite movies, taste in music, which then led to a thirty minute discussion about taylor swift and how jamie claimed he was a swiftie but couldn’t name any songs that weren’t played on the radio

“i have a lot to teach you i guess.” you were definitely making it obvious that you were interested in him, but you didn’t care. you’d usually be so shy around a guy so cute, but something about jamie made you calm, that was the simplest way to put it.

“i would love that.” the blush on his face matched yours. you smiled at him, contemplating whether or not you wanted to ask the question you had been wanting the answer to all night.

“so why have i never seen you around or met you before? i’ve known trevor for almost two years now, and i’m over here quite a lot.” 

“i usually just stay in my room all day, especially during parties, i’m not the biggest fan of them.”

“then why are you out here right now and not bunkered up in your room?”

“i wanted to meet you, to get to know you.” jamie answered, scratching the back of his head and giving you a sheepish smile. “i came downstairs last weekend to grab something from the kitchen and that's when i saw you, i really lucked out that you are friends with trevor or else i probably never would’ve been able to find out who you were.” 

you nodded at his response, informing him that you were glad you were friends with trevor too.

“speaking of him, i was hoping to see him again before i left.” you told jamie, standing up from your spot on the couch noticing his slightly upset expression. “let me give you my number, i would love to see you again, maybe begin my lessons on taylor swift to you.” 

“i would love that.”

+++

after exchanging contact information with jamie you made your way outside towards the pong tables, hoping that trevor would still be out there. 

“hey trevor, i was just about to leave, wanted to say goodbye.” you said approaching him in the dimly lit yard.

“you’re leaving already? i didn’t even get any time with you.” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder his arms loosely around your waist. 

“sorry trev, but i got to know jamie. don’t let this get to your head, but i think you might be a pretty good wingman.” you joked, your arms around his neck gently running your hands through the ends of his hair. it wasn’t abnormal for the two of you to be so affectionate, so this felt normal.

“good, i’m glad.” his tone didn’t sound like his statement, but you could easily chalk that up to the alcohol in his system finally wearing him down. 

“why don’t i help you get into bed? basically everyone has left already.” you suggested, forcing his head up to meet yours at your eye level.

he smirked before responding. “i like where this was going.” 

“nothing like that buddy, besides you just set me up with your best friend that wouldn’t be a good idea, don’t you think?”

“that's not fair, you can’t do that.” he mumbled, his head dropping back down into the crook of your neck. “you can’t say you're taking me to bed, and then not take me to bed the way i want you to take me to bed."

you rolled your eyes at his comment and began dragging him back inside and up towards his room. once you wrestled him out of his jeans, giving up on putting pants on him because of his multiple attempts to lure you into bed, you got him to lay down and made sure he was comfortable before you headed downstairs to get some water and pain killers for him to take once he woke up in the morning. 

“goodnight trevor.”

you made your way outside onto the front lawn while you waited for your uber to arrive. you usually would’ve taken trevor up on his offer to spend the night with him, but something about even just thinking about doing that was now making you feel guilty. it wasn’t like you and jamie were in a committed relationship or anything, but he seemed to genuinely like you and was actually interested in getting to know you and you didn’t want to do anything to sabotage that.

+++

from: unknown number

can we meet up today for coffee or lunch? i would love to start becoming a real swiftie.

to: unknown number

am i right in assuming this is jamie??

from: unknown number 

yes 🙃

to: jamie��

i would love to meet up.

to: jamie🤭

could we get lunch? i am literally starving because of my hangover.

from: jamie🤭

absolutely. send me your address, i’ll come pick you up. 

+++

you were in full panic mode, you had no idea what to wear and the fact that it was visibly obvious that you were hungover didn’t help at all. you told jamie to give you at least thirty minutes, after he told you that an hour was too long. 

you took the fastest shower you ever have in your life before tackling the biggest issue, your outfit. you went through every drawer, bin, and your closet before you decided on biker shorts and a crewneck. you could only hope that jamie wasn’t planning on taking you somewhere with a dress code. 

makeup was applied and your hair was pulled into a claw clip before jamie texted you that he was outside, you did some final touches before you made your way out of your apartment complex. you lucked out seeing that jamie was in a comfy outfit just like you were. once you were buckled up jamie handed you his phone and told you to pick the music before driving off.

+++

“so what is your all time favorite taylor swift song?” jamie asked once he joined you in the booth you found for the two of you, he had taken you to in and out claiming he was craving a burger, and you didn’t complain because you would never pass up the opportunity to fuck up some animal fries.

“i don’t have just one, i think it is humanly impossible to have just one.” you told him, taking a sip of your lemonade before continuing. “i do, however, have a list of my top sixteen songs by her in no particular order.”

“sixteen songs? that’s insane.” 

“she has over two hundred songs, you’ve got a lot of listening to do.”

“well why don’t you give me your list of songs, the only ones i really care about are the ones you like.” you blushed at his words, before stating all of your favorite songs by her. his only responses were “i don’t know that one, never heard of it, i know that one, wait no i don’t”

once you were done and jamie confirmed all the songs were now added to his spotify you two began eating as you gave him a run down of her career.

“so who is your favorite and least favorite ex of hers?”

“i hope you don’t have plans for the rest of the day because i have a lot to say on this.”

+++

“do you want to get dessert? there is a nice ice cream place a few minutes from here.” jamie asked while you two were walking around huntington beach. you didn’t even realize how long the two of you had been hanging out until he asked if you wanted to get dinner, and now three hours after that when he is now asking to get dessert. 

“yea i would love to.” he smiled down at you and you made the move to hold his hand. “sorry, i hope this is ok, i just wanted to hold your hand.” you blushed, turning your head away from him.

“it’s ok, i wanted to as well.” he blushed as well before he began leading the way towards the ice cream shop. 

+++

“i had a lot of fun today, i was honestly a little nervous that with both of us sober it would be a little awkward, but it wasn’t and i would like to see you again. soon. sorry if that is a bit forward.” you told jamie as he pulled up in front of your apartment.

“i’d like to see you soon too, like tomorrow soon. are you busy tomorrow? we could get dinner, a nice place this time, not that in and out and qdoba aren’t nice it’s just-”

“yea i would love to, just send me the restaurants info before so i can figure out what to wear.”

“you’ll look beautiful in whatever you wear y/n.” you blushed at jamie’s comment before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. you were quick to get out of the car, yelling a goodbye as you ran into the front doors of your building.

+++

“finally you’re back. where the hell were you? i’ve been here for hours.” 

“how the hell did you get into my apartment trevor?” you asked the boy who was sprawled out across your couch eating your food. “stop eating my wheat thins asshole.”

“i found your spare key, i mean hiding it on the top of the door frame is just a horrible idea y/n.” trevor said as he went back into your kitchen, hopefully to put your snacks away.

“what are you doing her trev?” you asked, taking your shoes off before making your way into the living room.

“where were you? you’re never out late, and i got here at like two and it’s now eleven. did you pick up a shift?” trevor was quick to join you on the couch, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over the two of you.

“no, i was actually with jamie, he picked me up at noon to get lunch and then we spent the whole day together.” you blushed remembering how much fun you had today and how it was the first time in a while that you had enjoyed a date that much.

“oh, i didn’t realize that you two were getting along that well.” trevor said, reaching towards the table to grab the remote. “what the hell did you two talk about for nearly twelve hours? jamie cannot be that interesting of a guy.”

“we started off talking about taylor swift and how he is a fake swiftie, just like you are.” trevor cut you off with a gasp and hit you with the pillow he was using. “and then we talked about our childhoods, stories from school and growing up where we did.” you smiled at nothing, just reflecting on this one story jamie had told you about his worst halloween costume, which you then one upped with your own horrible halloween story. “thanks for pushing me to meet him trevor, i know it’s only been a day but i feel an actual connection with him and i can’t remember the last time i felt that with a guy.” 

+++

you and jamie had been going on dates multiple times a week for the past month now and tonight the team had the night off and jamie was taking you to his favorite restaurant for date night. you weren’t dating, yet, but both you and jamie have spoken about it as something you both want. it’s just up to when the timing is right.

“where is he taking you out tonight?” trevor asked you as he joined you in your bedroom. you called him over to help you pick out an outfit for tonight.

“cortina’s” it wasn’t a black tie restaurant, but it wasn’t a jeans and a tshirt restaurant either. “i was thinking my black leather pants and then a nice top, maybe my pink top with the mesh sleeves?” you were met with silence from your best friend, “hello? earth to trevor.”

“sorry what?” you rolled your eyes before entering the bathroom, changing into the outfit you had in mind. “what do you think?”

“i think that jamie isn’t coming to pick you up for another two hours and that gives us plenty of time to have some fun.” trevor said, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you open mouth kisses on the exposed skin of your neck down to your shoulder, you let yourself revel in the feeling before you snapped back into your senses.

“trevor stop.” you pushed his arms off of you as you distanced yourself from him. “trevor you can’t do that, we can’t do this anymore.”

“why not y/n? you and jamie aren’t dating, there is nothing wrong with it. it’s been a month and i’m getting frustrated.” he groaned, flopping down onto your bed.

“that is not my issue trev, don’t blame me. i can guarantee that there are at least one hundred girls in your dm’s right now who would be willing to hook up with you, go bother one of them.” you snapped back at him, not in the mood.

“i don’t want some random girl, i want you y/n. aren’t you in the mood even a little bit, it’s been a month for you too.” you avoided his eyes as you made your way to your vanity to begin your makeup. “wait have you been fucking jamie? what the fuck y/n?”

“trevor you have no right to be upset, we are nothing. you were the one who set us up. isn’t this what you wanted?”

“no this isn’t what i wanted, i should’ve just made jamie make a move on his own. if that was the case you would still have no idea who the hell he was because jamie is too much of a little-”

“get out.” you cut trevor off before he could say anything worse. “trevor get out and don’t talk to me until you manage to get your head out of your ass.”

+++

“is everything okay? you seem a bit off.” jamie asked, he was right. after your argument with trevor you had been a bit out of it, the guilt of what you had done with trevor in the past was eating away at you. “could we talk about it later? i don’t want to ruin dinner.” your voice was shaky as you spoke.

“yes of course, but i’m gonna be honest i’m a little worried now.” jamie said, playing with the napkin on his lap. 

“i am too, don't worry.” your attempt at a joke didn’t help, but thankfully the waiter came to take our orders. 

+++

dinner was terrible. 

you two tried your hardest to have everything be normal and how things had been in the past month, but both of you were worried about what you had to say. jamie was scared you were gonna break things off with him, he was already nervous for tonight because he was going to ask to make things official between you two, and now he was even more on edge. while you were worried that after you told him about you and trevor’s past that he would no longer want anything to do with you and would break things off before they even got fully started. 

“so can you tell me what is going on?” jamie asked once you two had exited the restaurant and were sitting in his car.

“i want you to know that this started before i even knew you existed and it stopped the moment i met you.” you took a couple of deep breaths before continuing. “trevor and i had been hooking up, for nearly the whole time we were friends, but i swear to you the second i met you i cut it off. i’m really sorry for not telling you sooner, it’s just that i really, really, like you and i didn’t want anything to jeopardize that, even though keeping it a secret probably wasn’t the best alternative.” you looked out the window, avoiding his gaze, afraid of how badly he was judging you right now. “i understand if you don’t want to continue this anymore, you can just drop me off right here and i’ll uber home.”

“y/n. i don’t care.” you finally peeled your eyes away from the reflection of the cars in the side view mirror to see jamie looking at you with a smile. “your previous relationships are none of my business, yes it is a bit uncomfortable that he is my roommate and one of my closest friends, as well as one of yours, but i really, really, like you too so that doesn’t matter to me.” you smiled back at him, a few tears building up in your waterline. “i was actually going to ask you if you wanted to be my girlfriend, and i still want to. so y/n would you make me the happiest man alive and officially become my girlfriend?”

“yes jamie, i would be honored.” you leaned over the center console and kissed his cheek, to not distract him from the road. “it sounds like you proposed jamie.” you laughed. “are things going to be weird around trevor for you?” you hated the idea of being the cause of their falling out, or to have any team problems sprout from this.

“yes.” jamie replied bluntly. “and i’m definitely not the biggest fan of you two hanging out without me there, at least for a little bit, but it’ll all work out. i won’t let it get to me or my game, but the second he makes a comment about you it’s over.”

you giggled before replying with a short “got it.” and placed your hand over his.

“and don’t worry, i never plan on going anywhere without you drysdale. you’re gonna have to start coming to girls' nights too.”

+++

note: i actually rewrote this three times and each time the plot was different, the last version was so much juicer and had so much drama (trevor realized he was in love with reader, but he was too late dun dun DUNNNN) but i cut that out because i couldn’t get the wording right. anyways i hope y’all enjoyed, leave feedback (any and all is appreciated), have a great day, i love y’all babes <3 !!!

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

idea from: https://www.instagram.com/reel/CMaqZaRA3Jh/?igsh=MWV5MmZyaGhnbGFvOA==

tags: @illiana-mystery, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe

warnings: swearing

“I’ll give you ten dollars if you call mother by his real name.” Carl whispered to me. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

“why?” I asked. Carl smirked at me. I shook my head at him. “Seriously Carl. You’re so childish sometimes.”

“what? You don’t think his reaction would be funny?” Carl asked. Mother sat at his computer, chewing on a straw while he waited for the trace to finish. “I’m just wondering why you think it would be funny.” I shot back, raising my eyebrow at him.

“because! He’s exclusively mother. Or baby. Or sweetheart. Or my love. Or dear. Or…” I waved my hand at him.

“I get the point!” I laughed. Carl smiled at me. “I call him everything but his name.”

“I’m just curious to see what would happen if you did call him by his name.” Carl shrugged. Marty walked into the room and Carl jumped up to follow him with some questions. I walked over to mothers side and wrapped my arms around him.

“hey.” He muttered. I kissed his temple.

“hey. How you doing?” I asked. He shrugged.

“same shit different day.” He said, tilting his head to look up at me. “What about you? Everything ok?” I nodded. Taking my hand off his chest, mother kissed the back of it before holding it over his heart. I smiled softly at him.

“yeah. Everything is ok.” I said, leaning my head against his. “What are you thinking for dinner? Pizza? Chinese? Italian?” Mother shrugged.

“honestly I’m ok with whatever you get. I might not be done before you order.” He admitted. His eyes roamed over the computer screen. “Since whistler got sick, I’m the only one who can do all this. Got two more traces to run.” I hummed and moved to sit in his lap. Mother smirked at me as I cupped his cheek. “Well hello there.” He whispered before kissing me softly. Mother pulled away before resting his head against mine.

“I think Carl and Marty are discussing part of the plan.” Mother hummed. I ran my fingers through his hair before speaking again. “Let the trace run. It doesn’t need to be babysat. We can go find out what’s next and get some food then come back.”

“yeah ok.” Mother said, standing up as I slid off his lap. He took my hand and we headed in the same direction I had seen the other two go in. “The Chinese place is quicker then.”

“sounds like a plan.” I agreed as I wrapped my arms around his. “Unless they already got it.” I laughed as we entered the room. Carl looked back at me with a smile before motioning to the only two empty seats left across from each other. With a kiss to his cheek, I let go of mother to sit next to Carl.

“so you do it yet?” He whispered as I grabbed my food. I rolled my eyes as mother sat down across from me, his foot taking its place between mine.

“shut up Carl.” I whispered back. We all settled in and started eating, mother occasionally tapping on my foot in Morse code. I would smile each time he did it, responding with my own code back. At this point it was an inside joke, having our own private discussion while talking to everyone else. I nudged Carl before looking at mother. “Hey Darren? Can you pass me a napkin?” Mother froze, eyebrows shooting down and his mouth dropping into a frown. Everyone went quiet as mother tried to process what just happened. “Darren?”

“what…?” His eyes scanned the table before shooting back to me. “It’s not…” his fingers moved as he counted the dates. “Not birthday. Not anniversary.” Mother blinked at me as he thought. Carl was trying not to laugh next to me while Marty and Donald watched with interest.

“Darren? A napkin. Please.” I said again. The napkins were shoved at me as mother got up. “Wait where are you going?” I called after him.

“I’ll be back!” He called, waving over his shoulder at me.

“where’s he going?” Marty asked, finally chuckling at the situation.

“I have no idea.” I said, staring in the direction mother had gone. “Carl,” I turned towards the younger man. “Pay up.” Carl happily handed over a ten dollar bill before getting up to check the trace. “What? He bet me ten dollars I wouldn’t do it. Seemed like a fun bet.” I shrugged as Donald stared at me before dissolving into laughter.

“I swear. You all keep each other on your toes.” He said, shaking his head. He got up as well and headed off to wherever he had his office. Marty followed him a few minutes later. I grabbed the rest of my food and mothers before heading back to the trade. Carl nodded at me before getting up and heading off. I sat in mother’s chair and propped up my feet as I ate. Once the trace ended, I started the next one after saving the data.

“Ahem.” I turned in the chair and smiled at mother as he stood next to me.

“hey.” I breathed out. Standing up, I put the container back on the table. “Where did you go?” Mother leaned in to kiss me and I happily let him. Just as I was about to run my fingers through his hair, he pulled away. “Hey.” I playfully whined.

“I had to go out.” He said, showing me the shopping bags he was holding out. “I know it’s not your birthday or our anniversary but I know I must have forgotten something.” I sighed as I put my hands on his chest. Mother shrugged. “And I felt bad so I got you some stuff.” I leaned in and kiss him again.

“You didn’t forget anything baby.” I said, finally running my fingers through his hair. “Carl bet me ten dollars to call you by your name. He wanted to know how you would react. Please don’t hate me.” Mother chuckled as he leaned his forehead against mine.

“hate you? I could never.” He laughed. I smiled softly at him. “I guess he knows now. I go panic shopping at the sound of my name.” I laughed and reached for the bags. “Oh! But first…” mother handed me the biggest bag first.

“oh!” I exclaimed. “Flowers!” Mother nodded as he put down the bags before sitting down and moving to pull me into his lap. I went willingly as he squeezed my waist before wrapping his arm around me. “Thank you.” I whispered, turning to kiss his cheek.

“that’s not all.” Mother chuckled. I leaned further back into his chest as he pulled the bags closer to the edge of the table for me to reach. “Go on.” He gently took the flowers from me to hold in my lap as I opened the bag. I pulled out various boxes of candy, a few plushies, and a little heart box with a cheesy saying on it. I laughed as mother out his chin on my shoulder. I turned to look at him with a smile.

“anything in this box?” I asked. Mother shrugged, looking at me with big mismatched eyes. “You dork.” Mother chuckled as he kissed along my shoulder and neck. I opened the box to find a necklace like mothers. “Oh Darren baby.” I cooed as I pulled it out. Mother smiled and kissed my neck again.

“thought you would like it.” He whispered. “Crystal is your favorite color too.” I nodded as I moved to put it on, pausing long enough for mother to actually clip it around my neck.

“thank you.” I whispered, turning in his lap to kiss him deeply. “Sweetheart you didn’t have to do this. You didn’t forget anything.” Mother nodded.

“still…” he breathed out, eyes shining with love. “You deserve it. And since we can’t quite get married without one of us getting arrested…” mother touched the crystal around my neck. I took a shaky breath.

“oh Darren.” I whispered, voice catching on his name. Mother gave me a tight smile as panic flashed across his face momentarily. “Yes. I’d love to. Thank you. Thank you.” Mother kissed me deeply again, my hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

“I love you.” He whispered. I nodded as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.

“I love you too.” I kissed him softly before turning back to the bags. “Now what else did you buy me?” I asked, wiping my eyes as mother nuzzled into my shoulder.

“more of the same.” He said, rubbing my back. “There’s another box. But it’s empty. And in one of those bags is a book I know you’ve been dying to read.” I leaned my head against his as he settled against my shoulder.

“what did I do to deserve you?” I breathed out as I pulled everything out of the bags. Mother chuckled before tilting his head up to kiss my cheek.

“something good.” He whispered as he hugged me tightly.

[avasassisstant01]

All the possibilities

Janine Teagues x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: After 3 years, you finally confess your feelings for Janine to her. Of course, its not without some misunderstandings. Wordcount: 6.1k

Angst with happy ending

Warnings: None really

Shoutout and idea credit to: @lilfartbox1 for being the only reason this has come to be what it became. Thank you.

The chatter of your 4th graders working on an art project filled your classroom while you sat with your headphones on, trying to grade their most recent maths papers. Your favourite songs played, loud enough to help you stay focused but not loud enough to miss something happening between your students. 

It wasn't the conventional approach to quiet time, but your kids (although they tried) were terrible at keeping quiet and letting you focus. You had to make some kind of plan.

You looked up at the kids every few seconds to make sure there was still order.

Content with what you saw, you looked at your desk, sticking a sticker onto one of your most struggling maths student's test, a calculator with the words 'proud of you' on its screen. You smiled, proud that he was finally making some progress with his long multiplication.

A knock came at your door. Your heart jumped and you threw your headphones off out of instinct. Although you took pride in your headphone analogy, if one of the older teachers saw you, like Barbara; you'd be horrified. You had worked hard for the past 3 years to prove yourself to all the teachers at Abbott, especially Mrs. Howard. You'd hate to lose that respect so soon into the 3rd year.

You fiddled with your messy desk, then you turned while you fixed your clothing, planting a fake smile on towards whoever was there. You stood up, grateful that your door was closed at the kids request.

"Kids, keep working quietly, I'll be right back."

"Ummm…" Came Bella, your most paranoid student's voice from the front group, closest to your desk. You were almost certain she was going to ask for some form of protection against her other classmates when things inevitably got out of hand. 

Another knock came simultaneously. 

You turned your attention to the door for a split moment, then back to Bella.

"Coming," you said to the either very eager or very angry person on the other side. 

Your brain worked to find a solution to your Bella problem quite quickly, "Courtney, you're in charge of keeping Bella safe if I'm not back in ten minutes." 

"Sure, teacher L/n!" Courtney said with her charming yet never all that reassuring smile.You were surprised that she hadn’t at least asked for 5 dollars in exchange for her work; she always did. 

Now questioning if your impulsive request was worth the possible aftermath, you stopped once again to think. Courtney was, in the kindest way possible, a major gamble. And with her track record with Janine for the first part of the year before, you weren't sure if you were willing to risk it. 

Yet another impatient round of thuds came through to your side.  

Whispers came from across the maze of desks. The kids were basically challenging you to leave them to create chaos by themselves.

With no time to think, you sighed- Courtney was your best bet for Bella and the rest of the group was gonna have to protect themselves.

"I'll be right back. Just please. Don't break anything, or anyone." You said, far too desperately considering the authority you had compared to the kids.

Getting a patchy, "Yes, Teacher L/n!" from some of them, you looked at a few of your more mischievous kids, pointing at all of them so they knew not to try anything.

Opening the door, a more filled "Yes, Teacher Y/n." came from your class, satisfying you more than before. A sigh left your system when no loud crashes came from the room seconds after your departure.

"Y/n!" Your best friend said in a winded manner as you got out of your room.

Janine Teagues, in all her glory, smiled widely at you. Realising that it was just Janine and not Barbara brought a smile to your face, until you realised that it was… well, Janine. 

Now your mind raced even more. 

How did you look? Were you smiling too widely? Were you taking too long to answer her?

"Hey, Janine!" You decided to say. You looked at her outfit, one of her warmer dresses, in an orange colour. You couldn't help but love it on her. 

"Wow. You look…" Your eyes scoped her entire body out, all 4 or something feet of it. As you hit just above her head, the dreaded mic and camera appeared just behind her, stopping you from pursuing any further words. 

Appropriate words shuffled through your head, now. You didn't want the camera crew -or whoever watched the footage- to get any ideas. 

Janine frowned slightly "Is the dress really that bad? I really tried hard this time." 

Your heart melted at that, and somehow the cameras weren't so important. 

"No, you look amazing. I mean the dress- The dress looks amazing." 

Your preferred ‘Janine’ expression returned to her face and you avoided any eye contact with the camera. 

Usually you were all for the camera's, having the same excitement for your job experiences as a possibly slightly more chilled version of Jacob. However, Moments like these were the times you couldn't stand them. You couldn't hide your emotions very well to begin with, and they only made it harder. 

Janine must have been in her own world too, because she didn't point out your weird behaviour.

"What do ya need?" You continued, fearing that your gawking was taking up precious minutes of your surprisingly still quiet class. 

"Melissa told me to round up everyone who ordered valentine's decorations from her decorations guy." 

Oh. 

Your head finally found its balance, and you nearly laughed at how disconnected you'd been for the past few days. You almost forgot that Valentine's day was only a month away. 

Embarrassed from the exchange; you nodded, shook the nerves off and continued following Janine to the teachers lounge. 

Janine rambled on your short trip there, something about what her kids were making you presumed. She was in her true element, talking about her kids. 

You, having gotten a lot of the students that she had taught in her and your first year at Abbott this year, could see the impact she had on the kids. It was always good. 

"That's really nice, Janine." You said softly as you arrived at the door.

“Stop encouraging her, Y/n.” you laughed at Ava’s words, looking into the box Janine had somehow gotten while you were in your daze. 

You handed Ava her sugar as you kept looking into Janine’s box. It had basic craft supplies for kids in it, just mostly in red, pink and white. 

Too self conscious to admit your absence of mind, you tried to make out what she’d been talking about. 

“Ava stop. I’m sure the, uh,” your pause and lack of ability to finish the sentence made Ava scoff and leave the room, taking the camera’s with her. 

“Janine, I’m sorry,” you said, ready to admit that you were clueless, “can you tell me everything you just tried to say again. I’ll pay attention this time, I swear.” 

She gave you a concerned but sympathetic smile and continued to tell you about the Valentines that she was going to help her kids make, while you waited for most of the teachers to fade out of the room so you could retrieve your box of things. 

You listened as she somehow changed the conversation to her valentines plans. 

“Do you have any plans?” she asked. 

“Actually I-” 

“-Y/n. Jacob and I have been debating on what you and your class are making.” came Melissa’s voice, prompting you to look up at her and consequently at Jacob who was holding a very large box and inspecting it. 

As if on cue, Ava and her camera crew came back in. You looked at Jacob who looked mortified, and then at the camera that stood in the opposite direction. 

“Look guys, whatever’s in there was the kids' idea. I had no control over it. I let them write the supplies list. Is that not what they wrote down?”

“Oh, they wrote down supplies alright,” Jacob stared blankly into the box.

“Supplies for a homicide,” Melissa added. You looked at her, concerned at how she knew that. 

“How do you-” you started.

“-Don’t ask.” 

Taking the box from Jacob, you looked inside it once, then shut it out of fear that the camera’s would catch what was inside. 

“I’ll throw this out and go shopping tonight.” you decided. 

Spending your own money on supplies was well worth avoiding getting fired for child endangerment. 

You put the box to the side, while Jacob continued to talk about how scary your 4th graders were. 

He was still getting used to the 6th graders that had come in this year, previously your first group of 4th graders at Abbott. For months he had been insistent that your class was cursed somehow. 

You didn’t actually entertain the idea, really. But you enjoyed teaming up with the 6th graders to make his conspiracy more believable. 

As he went on his rant, Janine sat next to you. 

“Huge bummer that you have to go shopping tonight.” 

“Oh it's fine. I was going to go anyway. I had some things to collect for something special.” 

“Ooh,” she nudged you, “Something special. Does that include someone special?” She pried more and you couldn't help but smile at her oblivious statement. 

You were planning something big alright. Something big for her Valentine’s day. After 3 years of pining, you finally felt prepared enough to admit your feelings to Janine soon. Although, technically you weren't very subtle. 

You’d been planning since new years day, 

“It might.” As soon as you said this, you covered Janine's mouth with your hand, preventing a squeal from leaving her lips. 

“Shhh, okay. I don’t want everyone to know.” 

You could barely keep yourself together as she tried to calm herself down. Watching her in her excitable moments was like watching a child. It was fun.

Once you were sure that she was calm, you removed your hand. 

“Who is it, then?” 

“I can't tell you, “ 

"Do I know them?" 

You smiled, "Yeah, you know her." 

She gasped, racking her brain for all the women you both mutually knew.

"Aw, okay. Gave me a clue!" 

"Okay," you said. You decided to just let her figure it out, even if it ruined your surprise. You looked around the room to see who was still around. Surprisingly, you were the last two in there.(besides the filming crew.)

“She’s sweet. And she’s short.” 

“Oh, like me.” she breathed out, not in a knowing way, just acknowledging the similarities. 

“Yeah,” you looked at her, and realised how close you were to each other, “Like you.” 

“She’s the most exciting person to be around. I see her all the time. She makes me laugh, and sometimes when I’m alone, the thought of her makes me cry.” 

“Why?” she gasped. 

“She’s always with someone else. Like, always. She’s only been single for a few months now.”

Janine fell silent, and you were almost certain she’d figured you out. You stared into her eyes and waited. Waited for something to happen. 

“What does she do?” 

Leaning into her direction you whispered, “She’s a teacher.” 

Right before your bodies could make contact with each other, you stood from your chair to reach for something on the table behind her. Your bodies grazed against one another. The skin that touched hers tingling. 

Returning back to your seat, she stood. Giving you a sheepish smile, she walked out of the room slowly. Not saying a word. 

Doing the same, you smiled, happy that you’d just told her how you felt. 

When one of the producers asked you to answer a few questions outside, you weren’t even annoyed. 

“What just happened?” they asked. 

Looking straight at the camera for the first intentional time that day, you smiled. You were still stunned. 

“I think I just told Janine I like her.” you answered confidently. 

Five minutes later, across the building by the second grade classroom, Janine stood. 

Tears threatened to fall at the news you’d just given her. 

“What just happened?” someone behind a camera asked.

Janine looked down, embarrassed at her behaviour. 

“I think Y/n is in love with another woman.” she barely got the words out. A punch to the gut is what that sentence felt like. 

She tried to smile, the tears still freefalling even though she violently wiped them away promptly. 

“It's okay. I’m okay,” she lied, “I’m happy for them. I really am.” 

The surrounding people didn’t  believe her for even a second. They all just felt quite sorry for the woman. 

She cleared her throat, straightening up a bit at the pitied looks. 

“They deserve to be happy.” 

They all stood there not moving as even the cameraman decided to stop recording. Janine was the one person who was always open to talk to them. It made their jobs really easy. He didn’t want her saddest moment completely on tape. He’d probably cut and delete the whole ordeal later on in the day. 

Instead of continuing, he let her get back to class.

ONE MONTH LATER

Valentine’s day at Abbott started out slow. Most of the kids still at home or on their way to school. It was an hour or 2 before the school day started, and you’d been working tirelessly for days, trying to make your big day perfect. 

After your conversation with Janine on that January morning, things had been awkward between the two of you. You were still close and all, but there was some distance that never previously exhibited lingering around the two of you. 

You chopped it up to not knowing where your friendship stood now that you’d basically confessed your love for her on that day. 

Of course, confronting this issue was harder than it looked. The two of you skirted around the matter easily. 

But, after weeks of avoiding it, your day was finally here. You’d successfully planned everything out as much as you could and you were determined to make sure that Janine and yourself could be closer after it was all well and done.

Nonetheless, that hadn’t happened just yet.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Janine.” you said it to her as you passed her classroom. Seeing Jacob behind her you corrected yourself, “Oh and you too Jacob.” 

They politely responded, wishing you the same before you left to tend to your plans. 

“I know that Janine and I have been a bit distant lately,” you said to the camera that followed you, “but I think today might change things.” 

In a silly way, you said it out loud so that the crew could assure you that you were right. They didn’t, obviously. But they did go in a separate direction soon after so you took it as a win. 

Clearly they were just leaving you to get ready. Everything was going to be perfectly fine.

Janine walked into the teacher’s lounge in her usually happy mood, holding the random valentine that she found in her mailbox only minutes after Jacob left her classroom. She was excited for the day, although it hadn’t been the most romantic month since your silent rejection only weeks prior. 

“Hello everyone!” She said cheerfully as she told her faculty of teachers about the valentine, hoping that somebody would confess to having been the alleged ‘secret admirer’.

Even with her heart still recovering from getting her hopes up about you having a crush on her, she still looked around hoping to see your face light up and silently expose yourself as the above mentioned. Her head and heart rarely ever had the same idea, so no matter how she tried to ration with her valid feelings of rejection. Her heart still refused to accept the facts. 

She deflated only momentarily after seeing that you weren’t in the room like usual. 

“Where’s Y/n?” she asked anybody who was possibly still listening. 

“Somewhere preparing a date, I believe.” Gregory said out into the open. He wasn’t aware of your plan in any way, but being that the two of you (Plus Mr. Johnson) were the more punctual staff members, word travelled around over the past week. 

He was merely stating a fact that he knew. 

Janine on the other hand took this as a taunting act of further humiliation in general.(Not because it was Gregory.)

She was still holding out hope for you even after you’d clearly shown that you weren’t interested. 

She let the conversation go on in its natural state. Swiftly moving out of the room, where immediately she had a camera in her face. 

Janine, being someone who enjoyed being around the camera and finding talking to the crew to be quite therapeutic, stood in her usual spot and looked into the main lens. 

“What are your plans for Valentine’s day?” Rob, the man behind the camera, asked her. She’d found out his name in the first few weeks of filming.

“My Valentine's day plans? Well, Mo,” she paused to emphasise Maurice’s name, “is coming by after school with a surprise gift.” She continued. 

She tried her best to put on her regular smile as she talked about him but truly she was a bit uninterested. 

You’d been her first and only really intense crush for years now, and those facts still stood. Although she liked Mo, she felt bad that he wasn’t even a second option. 

There was no denying the chemistry that her and Gregory possessed. It was nothing compared to yours, but it was still better than Mo. 

Unfortunately, the stars didn’t seem to want to align with any of Janine’s love interests. Gregory was with Amber and judging from the lego bouquet, he was really in love with her too. She couldn’t interject with that. 

Besides, Mo seemed like a nice guy, with good intentions. Janine couldn’t not give him a chance. No matter how seemingly incompatible they were. No matter how little Mo knew about her, or what she liked. 

So she went the rest of the day not seeing you, wishing that she’d responded with more in the morning when you passed by her door. Wishing that she’d at least gotten you something, even if you wouldn’t take it as a romantic gesture. 

She smiled as widely as she realistically could when Mo gave her the Telfar bag, wishing that she could at least trade it in for Amber’s lego set. 

As the day concluded, and Janine greeted Gregory and Amber goodbye, she couldn’t help but be disappointed at the way that the day had gone.

“Janine, wait!” you yelled as you turned the corner after seeing her leaving with someone. 

She paused, hearing you so determined to stop her, and for a moment it felt like the day's events were going to change. 

“Yes?” she said almost immediately. 

You got to her, breathless from doing all the work for your surprise while teaching your class. 

As you caught your breath, you looked at the situation you’d landed yourself in. Janine was with Mo, Gregory’s friend. She was holding the most Un-Janine-like bag that must have been a recent gift because you hadn’t seen it before. 

“I-uh,” you started. 

“I was just going to say, happy Valentine’s Day.” you refrained from handing her your gift. 

“Um, okay,” Janine said disappointed once again, “Happy Valentine’s day, Y/n.” 

You hummed some type of response, letting her go and enjoy her night.

Avoiding anyone left in the building, you went to the empty class/storage room that you had spent the whole day setting up in. You took everything down slowly, careful not to be too rough with anything and accidentally break them. 

After packing everything, you walked to your classroom and packed up there, then slowly made your way down the hall of the building. 

When you reached Janine’s classroom, you froze, unwilling to move. 

You took out the box that you’d been too afraid to take out just shy of 2 hours before. 

It held a jewellery set that you thought would finely match her style and her taste. It didn’t come very cheap but you felt like the price didn’t matter if it was for Janine.

Regretting not giving it to her then, you turned and entered her classroom, placing it discreetly on her desk so as not to stir the wandering eyes of the 2nd graders she taught on Monday morning.

After setting it down, you left. Deciding to just call it an early evening and go home.

The halls felt abnormally cold as you left, the warmth that usually encompassed your body no longer existing. It left you frozen both physically and mentally. 

You were frozen on one thought and one thought only; had you made a mistake telling Janine what you told her all those weeks ago? Was she mad at you for liking her? 

Lastly: was your friendship even salvageable?

After Pecsa

“Janine!” you yelled out as you hugged yourself to keep yourself warm as you waited on her doorstep, shivering as you waited for some type of response. 

You’d been struggling to keep warm since days before Valentine’s day, where - although you didn’t know it yet- you had caught some type of flu from one of your kids. 

Besides the occasional visit to pick up some work to do at home, you hadn’t been to Abbott since then. You’d missed Pecsa weekend and you had the most ridiculous doctor's consultation fee to pay in only a few weeks. 

You’d been quite miserable, and all the previous events before you got sick weighed heavy on your mind now that you had barely anything to do but lay in bed. 

You spent hours deconstructing what happened between you and Janine. Looking at every possible angle of how everything went so wrong so quickly. 

The two of you barely spoke about anything besides Janine checking up on you every few hours to make sure you were okay at home. 

Luckily for you, even when she was upset Janine was still your best friend and she cared dearly for you. 

You hoped she felt the same about you. That she thought you still cared. You hoped that she saw your gift on her table on the day after Valentine’s day and realised that it was you, and that you loved her. 

You spent even more time contemplating texting Janine back and telling her that you were the secret gift giver. Just to reassure her of whatever it was that the two of you were was still actively being pursued. You settled on not doing so. It would look too desperate. You thought better than to look desperate. 

However, it was wishful thinking to assume that Janine didn’t see you as desperate now. You were in your very much “home clothes”, having spent the day resting once again. You looked rather unwell for someone who’d been on meds for so long, and you stood at her house, banging on the door for her to open it on a Friday night out of nowhere. 

“Janine!” you said again, making a less noisy attempt at knocking on the door. By the third round of knocking, the door opened, and she stood in complete shock at the figure that you knew looked a complete mess. 

“Y/n I-I,” she stumbled through her words, stopping herself mid-sentence to wave you inside her home. 

You graciously accepted the invitation, walking in before she closed the door. Her house was warm and welcoming, the smell of autumn spices filling your nose and soothing your churning stomach almost instantly. 

It felt good to smell her house again after so long. It had been nearly a month since you were there for your weekly Friday-Sleepover, where you’d stay for the night and help each other set up for the following week of school, while having much needed fun together. 

Though you could blame your illness for the abrupt stop in this almost instinctive routine, there was no denying that it had already become inconsistent weeks before you got sick. 

You’d had a few sleepovers after your ‘confession’ but they were always so much more awkward than the two of you had ever been around each other. 

Standing in this house again- it felt like months since you’d comfortably been there. 

“You’re shivering. Here, wear this.” Janine handed you a blanket to wrap around yourself as she inspected you. She led you to her couch, where you remember nursing her back to health when she got food poisoning.

“Hi,” you said, and chuckled as casually as possible, looking straight ahead while you saw her in your peripheral view, trying to get comfortable. 

You could feel her looking at you directly, her expression of concern not being something you could ignore. 

“Hey.” 

Silence surrounded the little space between the two of you. You- trying to get warmer- and Janine- trying to think of what she could give you to make you feel somewhat better. 

She figured tea was the best she could do, so she got up and went to her kitchen, cutting her usually distracted way of making tea short to get it to you as quickly as possible. 

By the time she’d gotten back, you were already starting to drift off to sleep on her couch, clearly feeling warmer from the blanket. 

Opting to let you rest, she put the tea next to you in case you woke up, and got you another blanket to cover you again. Your straight sitting position looked strange, but not wanting to ruin the moment of peace, she left you that way. 

The week had been all but calm for her, and her mind had been all over the place,from having to check up on you constantly to make sure you were resting and not taking cold and risky trips, much like now. 

Simultaneously, her kiss with Gregory at Pecsa had been all but what she expected. 

Feelings that she was so sure of only days before got completely jumbled up once again and her emotions couldn’t keep up. Her life was feeling a lot more like an all white 1000 piece puzzle, where trying to put any two pieces together and not matching them up perfectly was becoming more and more frustrating. 

Her and Gregory agreed that what happened wasn’t a big deal, and they unspokenly agreed to not speak about it. Regret laced most of her decision to do this as she thought of her love for you, the love that only grew after so long apart. 

She called Mo that same weekend and broke it off with him, mostly because she couldn’t continue to lead him on like she had been. That was probably the least complicated thing she realised about her love life over the week. 

Everything else wasn’t so easy. 

She left you on her couch to get some rest, slightly relieved to know that she didn’t have to worry about you without taking a few steps and peaking to see if you were okay, now. 

She’d previously been watching a show, so she decided to just go into her bedroom and find something to occupy herself instead. 

As quickly as she entered her room, her eyes landed on the gift that she’d avoided since the day after Valentine’s. She found it safely but secretly hidden on her desk and had assumed that one of her students accidentally left it on their desks and Mr Johnson had put it on her desk for safe-keeping. 

She had brought it into the teachers lounge the next day when none of her students claimed it, and asked the man directly. 

“I for one have never seen that before, but it's definitely for you.” he smiled not so convincingly and Janine questioned his words, only to turn the gift bag around to see her name plastered on the other side, not easy to miss. 

She took it home that day, but had refused to open it until the week before Pecsa. 

There, she found a set that consisted of a beautiful set of gold jewellery; a bracelet that fit perfectly into her growing set of bracelets, some earrings, and most importantly- a necklace with her name carefully engraved in it. The font was of a familiar handwriting, one that Janine was sure was yours, but considering how things were, she immediately put it all back and pretended she didn’t get anything. She didn’t want to be wrong about the identity of the gift giver and felt like she was becoming too attached to her broken heart, masking her hurt by associating everything around her with you. 

When Jacob asked her what she got the next day, she made up some lie about some really nice chocolates that she had as a treat the night before. When he didn’t ask any further questions, she went on, and tried to erase every other memory of Valentine's Day. 

Her date with Maurice went quite terribly after the Telfar bag incident, and Janine could already feel herself getting over the ingenuine talking stage with him. She kept nothing but what she thought was your gift, even giving away the Telfar bag. 

Now ,she went and opened the gift again, looking more deeply into the jewellery. After inspecting every piece, she would put it on, happy to accessorise even in the late evening.  

When it came to analysing the bracelet, she took a really long run through of it. As much as the doubt crept in, she couldn’t deny that she couldn’t convince herself that anyone but you could have thought of it. 

She slowly moved her hair away and put it on, going to her mirror to see her reflection. She was in awe at how good it felt to wear the gift. She couldn’t help but smile, not sure if it was even because of the necklace- or if it was the idea of you giving it to her. 

As she sat on that thought, there was no denying it, she was in love. 

Additionally, something about being in love with a good person made it all so surreal. 

“Janine.” you whispered when you woke up from the unintentional slumber. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” her voice came from behind you. 

You smiled, feeling a lot less tense than when you had arrived. You weren’t as cold either. You looked at her as she came to the couch, with a cup in her hand. 

“I made you some tea when you got here but it got cold when you fell asleep, so I- I made you another one.” 

You graciously took it, and scooted to the left to give her space to sit next to you. She did just that, sitting in a position that faced you, before placing her hand on your head. Satisfied at the temperature she must have felt, she placed her hand down, and let it fall to sit behind you. 

You turned to face her; the steam from the mug coming up to your face, making it more moist than it was. 

You took her presence in more intentionally now, taking note of the dress she chose to wear, and which side she chose to part her hair today. 

As you let your eyes roam, they landed on her neck; more specifically the accessory she wore. 

Your lips parted in a surprised question that never came to be verbalised. 

Janine watched you make this discovery, and she too searched for words to answer the many questions that roamed in her mind all day. 

“I’m glad you finally got my gift.” you decided to say, and the sigh that left Janine brought an even wider smile to your face. 

“I thought it was you,” she started, fiddling with what you now saw was the bracelet you bought her. Looking closely now, you realised that she was wearing the entire set. 

“You don’t have to wear them all at once, you know.” you kind of laughed, finding yourself quite amusing in your still drowsy state. 

“I know. I was just testing them all out for the first time. I’ve been avoiding them since I found them after…” 

“After Valentine’s Day.” you pushed. You were a lot more casual about it, only slightly starting to feel comfortable talking to Janine about the entire beginning of the year’s events. She seemed to confirm your words, avoiding your gaze for a while. 

“Y/n, I need to tell you something,” She said, waiting for your go-ahead. You nodded, prompting her to continue. 

“Gregory and I kissed at Pecsa Weekend.” 

Your heart shattered at the words. Were you shocked? No. You saw the chemistry between the two just as much as the next person, but you’d hoped that you still had a chance. You were certain that what you had with her was so much more special. 

“Oh,” you let out a breath. 

“I’m happy for you?” you begged the question to yourself though you said it out loud. Were you really happy for her? Who knew.

You took the last sip of your tea, having been sipping it slowly for the past 10 minutes that you’d been sitting there with Janine. 

You attempted to get up, wanting desperately to remove yourself from her line of vision, so you could kick yourself in the back and scream. You’d waited too long now. 

She stopped you, “ Y/n. It was a mistake. I was so confused.” 

You sat back down, although nothing indicated that this was going to be a conversation that turned out to be in your favour. 

“After Valentine’s, I was sure you’d probably had a great day with your crush after hearing everyone talk about what you had planned for her.

I was in such denial of my true feelings about it all. Gregory seemed like the least heartbreaking potential and after the weekend we’d both had, it kind of just happened.It didn’t mean anything” 

She took the mug from you, putting it on her table and taking your hands. You let her- not sure what to do at that point. 

Only after about a minute did her words set in. 

“Janine, I set up a valentine’s surprise for you.” 

“What?” 

“It was for you, Janine. You’ve been the one I’ve had a crush on this whole time. There was never anyone else.” 

She let go of your hands slowly, clasping hers together to let herself think. Time passed and not a word came out of the both of you. 

“Huh,” she let out, “ well, now I feel really dumb.” 

“You’re not dumb.” you took her hands back in your, looking into the brown eyes that entranced you for 3 cycles around the sun. 

“Gosh, I’m so sorry Y/n. I got so caught up trying to avoid your rejection, I didn't stop to think about you. You must have felt awful that day.” 

“Kinda,” you said, trying to protect her from feeling too bad.

“I’m sorry.” she repeated. 

“Don’t apologise,” you started, “I don’t know what's going to happen but don’t apologise.

I get it, complicated feelings were on the rise.” 

All she did was nod at that, looking at you with such an intense feeling of guilt, it scared you. 

“Come here.” you said to her, taking her into your embrace.

The two of you melted into each other and Janine let out a few tears as you weren’t turned to see her. She laid her head on your shoulder- wanting not to put too much weight on your still weak body but also not being able to help herself. 

You didn’t notice the extra weight of her head weighing on you, your only concern being that she stopped feeling guilty. 

“I love you, Janine.” you whispered, tracing circles on her back to soothe her sorrow away. 

“You’re the only one I want and need in this world, and I love you.” 

Waiting for a response was excruciating. Regrets poked through as you anticipated the inevitable. That the kiss between her and Gregory did mean something after all. 

Your long days of longing would be over if she didn’t mean what you thought she did, and she really didn;t feel the same way. 

“I-” you waited for the punch to hit, your eyes shut in anticipation. 

“I love you too. More than you could imagine.” 

And with those closing words, Janine lifted her head, wiped her tears away, and led you into the most worth-the-wait kiss you’d ever experienced. 

Authors Note: My first Abbott Elementary Fic! I must say I'm fairly proud of what I ended up with considering the hectic writer's block I've been experiencing this month. Also my first Gender Neutral reader so if there are any mistakes in that regard, please bare with me. Still getting used to that. I really hope you enjoyed!

[ficnation]

Chapter 1: A Delightful Encounter

Series: “The Heart Wants What It Wants” 

Word count: 1,0k+

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female! Baker! Reader

Warnings: none

A/n: I had so much fun writing this! All chapters will be around 1k or 2k words. This is also my first entry to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: writer’s choice - first meeting)! Events Masterlist

Let me know your thoughts and please reblog.

Main Masterlist 

Mayans MC Masterlist

NEXT CHAPTER

Angel enters the new bakery, his boots making a slight thud as he crosses the wooden floor. His eyes take in the cozy atmosphere and the pale green hue of the walls while the mouth-watering scents of baking bread and pastries tickle his nostrils. The interior is inviting, and the various tables and chairs in the central area provide a comfortable spot to sit and enjoy one's treats. He can’t help but feel slightly out of place. He sticks out like a sore thumb in his leather kutte and body decorated by tattoos.

He takes a moment to appreciate the homey vibe of his surroundings before heading toward the counter. He gazes at the array of baked goods, hypnotized by the view of colorful muffins, cakes, fresh golden buns, and loaves of bread. 

The person working behind the counter greets him in a friendly tone adorned by a pinch of shyness. The man in the leather kutte, his face obscured by the chunky dark sunglasses, merely nods in reply and gives a small wave. He feels the employe observing him as he tries to decide what to purchase.

Felipe sent him over early in the morning to get some freshly baked bread for breakfast. It was barely eight, and he’d give everything to be back in his bed, snoring away. His eyes were closing up on the ride here, but the smells of the bakery woke him up in seconds. 

Angel quickly peruses the selection of baked goods, his hand striding over the glass display case but not touching its surface. His gaze lands on a shiny, golden-brown loaf of bread, and his eyes light up. 

He looks back at the person behind the counter and nods once more, pointing toward the product before his brain finally registers the vision before him. He freezes in his spot, brown orbs glued to your delicate silhouette as you lean down to reach inside the display. 

You’re breathtakingly beautiful, standing there with a friendly smile, your eyes shining and dark eyelashes fluttering with every blink. Your hair is braided and thrown over your shoulder, the soft tresses swaying delicately against it with every movement. It’s as if every part of you is a work of art meant to be admired and appreciated. And as you continue to smile at Angel, he can’t help but be enthralled by your grace. You don’t even seem to be bothered by the early hour—there’s absolutely no trace of dark circles under your eyes. 

You take out the loaf of bread, wrapping it quickly in a dark green wax cloth. The man keeps staring as you nudge it toward him and state the price. He takes out his wallet and fumbles with it for a minute before he finally manages to find the 10$ bill and hands it to you. 

You take his ten dollars, put it in the register, and then place his change on the counter. His heart does a backflip as you part your lips to speak up. They seem so soft and plump. “Here you go, sir. Your change,” you say, pointing towards the stack of bills and coins.

“Nah, it’s fine. Keep it as a tip,” he replies, waving you off as he slides the change back to you, only taking the wrapped-up bread from the wooden surface.

You look surprised but insist, “Sir, you gave me too much. It’s too much just for a loaf of bread.” He can tell you have a good heart.

Angel thinks for a moment, then grins wildly, no ounce of hesitation left. “Not just for the bread. It’s for your great service.”

You’re flustered, your cheeks getting warmer with every passing moment—with every playful quirk of his lips. The man isn’t giving in as he flashes you another charming smile. You’re speechless. There was no point in resisting even though you didn’t think you did much that could be considered “great service”. You just smiled and served him his purchase; you do it all the time.

The corner of your peach-colored lips quirks up shyly as you finally nod your head in thanks. You take out one fluffy blueberry muffin from the display and place it on the counter in front of him. “Consider it a token of my appreciation then.” 

A beat of silence falls between the two of you as you stare at each other, enjoying the light tension that sends sparks down your body. The man is almost beaming with pride at his own charm, while you’re wondering what lies beneath those dark shades. The fact that you can’t see his eyes is infuriating—eyes are the window to the soul, after all. Just when you manage to regain your composure, he speaks up again.

“Tell you what,” Angel says, his voice low and confident. “I’d love to stop by again, just to see your smile.”

You give him exactly what he wants as you smile brightly at his words, feeling your cheeks flush with heat even more—you didn’t even think it was possible. “Of course, you’re welcome here any time,” you reply.

The man nods happily. “Great,” he says, a grin stretching across his face. “I’ll be sure to stop by often. I’m a sucker for delicious pastries and beautiful smiles.”

You’re taken aback by his words but appreciate the kindness. A warm, happy feeling bubbles within you—a feeling you haven’t felt in a long time. You are surprised that a man like him—the complete opposite of what you were usually looking for in a romantic partner—can make you feel weak in the knees by such a brief interaction.

“And I’d be thrilled to have you stop by again,” you stammer out, finding yourself lost in the pull of his presence. There’s a sparkle of excitement in your voice that only fuels his smugness. 

The man chuckles, unable to hide his delight, as he turns around and starts walking toward the exit. When he reaches for the door handle, you quickly lean over the counter and call out to him. He turns around, surprise painted on his face, and you’re just as taken aback as he is at your sudden holler. 

“What’s your name?” you ask, tapping your fingers on the wooden surface in anticipation. It’s new to you, breaking the barriers of your shyness for someone you just met, but it feels so right.

The stranger lifts up his sunglasses to his forehead for a second, looking you up and down. You’re instantly mesmerized by the rich brown color of his eyes. You feel them luring you in—hypnotizing you. You’re surprised you're even able to catch the words that leave his mouth. 

“Angel,” he replies, setting the sunglasses back on his nose. You already find yourself missing his gaze on your person. “Take care of yourself, dulce.”

Taglist: @danzer8705

[jacklynchh]

Wildflowers & Honey • Self-Para

Spring, 2018.

"What's that?"

"It's a beehive!"

There was a moment of silence in which Jack set down his coffee, trying to decide whether or not to question it. Grace offered no further explanation and just continued hauling boxes of unfamiliar equipment through the door, humming happily to herself.

"When you said you were going to pick up a few things, I thought you meant groceries," he said finally, deciding to get ahead of… whatever this was.

She grinned at him.

"I got groceries too."

It was a thing she did. He should be used to it by now, really. Grace would hear about some new hobby or craft and for the next few months it became Her Thing. Sometimes they stuck, knitting and pottery were particular favourites, but most of the time after a while she'd get bored and move on to the next. It was the reason they had a closet full of basket weaving materials that hadn't been touched in two years.

"Okay," Jack said, and then, "Should I ask?"

"Well, Heather from pilates was telling me about this amazing local group that runs all these courses on self-sufficience. You know like growing your own produce, animal care, foraging, and-"

"Beekeeping," he finished with a sigh.

"Exactly! And I figured we already grow our own stuff, and since we don't have enough space for a chicken coop, then this is the next best thing." She straightened up and dusted her hands off. "I thought it could be a cool thing to do together, you know? And think how great it would be to be able to make our own honey. You could sell it at the market with everything else."

She joined him by the kitchen island, swiping his unguarded mug to take a sip. There was a twinkle of joy in her eyes and she looked so pleased with herself that any half formed protests he had died on Jack's lips.

"Do we have to get a license or something?"

"There's a register and a small fee, but it's only like ten dollars."

"And the course?"

"We can afford it."

Another heavy sigh and he gave in. "Fine, but if I get stung you're never gonna hear the end of it."

"I think I can live with that," she said, smiling as she leaned into his side.

Present day.

There was a swarm hanging from his mailbox. Not the most helpful thing in the world, considering Jack had come out to see if anything had been delivered yet. A gentle buzzing noise filled the air and a few lone rangers were flying haphazardly above the main cluster, looking for places to land. The bees seemed relatively calm, so he just stood there for a moment debating what to do.

The sight of them had sparked a memory he hadn't thought about in years; Grace coming home and declaring them soon-to-be beekeepers. She'd been so excited about it at the time. He remembered wondering whether it was something they'd end up sticking to or give up on two classes in—they'd never had a chance to find out. Her diagnosis had come in only a couple of weeks after she'd signed them up.

He still had the hive though. It was sitting in the potting shed, hidden behind a pile of old tools and a wheelbarrow, alongside a whole collection of other seemingly vital beekeeper's equipment that he didn't know all that much about using.

It would be stupid to dig it out now, wouldn't it? Pointless. He should just call someone to come and get them, be done with it. That would be the sensible thing to do.

But they'd chosen to stop here. And his garden was full of pollinator plants. And he could see Grace's fucking smile-

Fifteen minutes later, he had his phone lodged between his shoulder and his ear as he tugged the hive out from its hiding box. It was still in relatively good condition, all things considered.

"Yeah, yeah, I've got frames too. Everything, I think. How soon can you be here?"

Only in Blue Harbor could he have found a qualified beekeeper not fifteen minutes away totally willing to help a complete stranger catch an absconded swarm. He hung up, proceeding to pull out one of the old suits stored away with everything else, feeling ridiculous as he climbed into it. It was insane, wasn't it? To see your dead wife in a swarm of fucking bees and, what, decide to keep them because of that?

And yet here he was. Oh well. He'd done it now. Might as well just accept his fate.

[tricitymonsters]

A long rambling post about US Healthcare

Alright so waiting didn't really help me parse out what I want to say but a big pillar of our online community passed away suddenly because of what amounts- frankly- to the gross negligence and cruelty of the US healthcare system.

For those of you who don't know Furaffinity is essentially THE cornerstone of the centralized furry and monsterlover community and the site was, for a long time, run by a guy named Dragoneer LARGELY by himself. This website hosted community ads, moderated its own content, and maintained a welcoming and corporation-free space for artists and other creatives to do their thing. My involvement in furaffinity has been pretty low key but I firmly believe that monsterfuckers and furries are only spitting distance apart at best so I feel a strong camaraderie and sense of kinship with them. As for how Dragoneer ran Furaffinity, what I can tell you personally is that FA was one of only TWO websites that will allow me to advertise TCM and when I emailed to get ads set up and configured, Dragoneer answered those emails personally.

Dragoneer had chronic issues that were difficult to diagnose for a while and reading his twitter/journal posts paints a really depressing, heartbreaking story of frustration, misdirection, and the banality of pure evil. Dragoneer was denied care he deserved because of the bureaucratic void that is our healthcare system here in America. He was charged tens of thousands of dollars for inconclusive tests, ordered to wait at home with minimal or no treatment, and this culminated in his rapid decline and sudden death last night.

Our healthcare system is traumatic and one incident, one accident, one sickness can financially ruin any of us permanently.

It's awful. One of the reasons this is difficult for me to talk about is because my dad died suddenly and horrifically to Covid in late 2020 because our for-profit hospitals refused to prepare for a pandemic while our executive administration pretended nothing was wrong. My dad died two weeks before vaccines began rolling out and when my mom and I had to make the choice to end his care we were only allowed to see him for 2 minutes at a time, separately. My husband was denied entry altogether because he wasn't "immediate" family.

Personally, I have chronic health issues that regularly get ignored. I have a mandatory medication (of several) that has no generic and costs over 300$ for a 30-day supply and my pharmacy (I'm not allowed to change) sometimes runs out and I gap for weeks at a time, sending my brain function into the toilet.

If you're American please help by keeping healthcare reform a primary voting issue in both Federal and State/Local elections. We need officials who see what this is doing to us, not more 1%ers who will never have to worry about what to do with a $25k hospital bill (one of Dragoneer's latest) or even a $250k one (my dad's bill for daring to die in ICU). I know it's a rough ask but for the financially stable, consider legal recourse for rights violations (some lawyers work pro bono for health stuff, the point is to always explore avenues to push back). We can't go on like this.

If you're not American, please help us by raising awareness in your own areas. Most of us look to more socialized countries like Canada and the EU for examples of how to improve our current system and of course, we know things aren't perfect but it's an embarrassment and a tragedy that Americans can't access the quality of care our system should VERY MUCH be able to provide.

Anyway.

This was really long-winded but it hurts a lot to know that there are so many cases like Dragoneer, like my dad. People with serious or even chronic issues can't get the smallest scrap of compassion in this system that reduces us to inconvenient numbers that our for-profit system can squeeze pocket change out of while murdering us.

I'll post links if a fundraiser goes up for Dragoneer's family to help cover the funds but until then, thanks for reading my long and winding thoughts. It's very hard to tame the emotion with this particular issue.

[ornii]

My Broken Little Sister

Eleven X Male Brother Reader

The Long Road, Under the Moonlight and Darkness

Destitute from most things, and only trees as far as one can see and a lone road leading and wrapping around the world. a single car races by, rubble echoes as the run down vehicle drives along, a pair of aviator glasses hang on someone's face. He taps along the side as music bellows into his Buick GNS, Blinding Lights by this new Sound, The Weeknd. He drives along the road as the synthetic beats radiate though his ears.

I've been tryna call

I've been on my own for long enough

Maybe you can show me how to love, maybe

I'm going through withdrawals

You don't even have to do too much

You can turn me on with just a touch, baby

I look around and

Sin City's cold and empty (oh)

No one's around to judge me (oh)

I can't see clearly when you're gone

I said, ooh, I'm blinded by the lights

No, I can't sleep until I feel your touch

I said, ooh, I'm drowning in the night

Oh, when I'm like this, you're the one I trust

The driver peers into the mirror and then back to the road, he drives further down the endless span of road, and then sees a Sign.

"Hawkins" the sign says.

"Perfect" he utters and speeds up, he slows down and begins to drive more civically as he leads himself into the small quaint town, the radio booms on and begins to play a song from the Hawkins radio. He checks his watch, one PM. The man slowly pulls into an apartment complex not far off near its High school, he parks and exits it. Wearing a pair of Boots, Denim jeans and jacket with a button up Hawaii colored shirt. Grabbing a bag and a box from his backseat, he heads inside. He's lead to a room by a sleazy man.

"Rents due on the first." He says, the man turns and nods.

"I really appreciate this opportunity you—" the man turns and walks away, leaving the young blood standing there, looking dumb, he shakes his head and heads inside his apartment room, admittedly it's lackluster, a basic bed, beige walls and a small bathroom shower, a TV and small couch. He sits down and opens up the box, it was files and lists of things, old that dated back to the 70s, he pulled up a file and began to read. The information begins to sour his face, and it reminds him of a memory, a conversation of him and his mother.

"This.. this is what dads doing?" He asks.

"It's what he was always doing, (Y/n)." His mother said, lying in a hospital bed. "I refused to let your father turn you into, one of those things too.." She continued, (Y/n)'s brow furrowed.

"Things?.. there are more like me?" He said, and the woman sadly nodded.

"Hawkins.. the, that's where the base is.. I couldn't watch my baby be turned into one of those Psychic things... so I divorced him, never looked back." She continues. "I know I can't stop you from going to Hawkins, but please.. be careful." She says, and the memory ends. Sitting there, he puts the file away, and rubs his wrist. He stands up and checks into bed, preparing himself for the investigation next morning.

The Morning sun beamed though his blinds and catches him in the eye. He awakens and wipes his eyes, preparing for the next morning, and with his one lead. Outside the Hawkins school he waits, and leans against his Car, a Ace blue car peels in next to him, he doesn't say much and he turns to the driver, who exits as well, in all denim, long blonde hair with an attitude that could kill. He and (Y/n) share a nod and go back to their waiting, and (Y/n) sees four Kids dressed as the Ghost Busters walk by, he ignores the slightly our of place kids and to a young kid with black hair.

"Excuse me. Troy?" He says to the Kid. And the boy looks at him, with a cast.

"What do you want?" He says, and (Y/n) approaches him.

"I just wanna talk, that's all." He says, the boy looks around and steps back.

"What's in it for me?" He asks, (Y/n) reaches into his wallet and digs out a ten dollar bill.

"This. I just wanna ask a few questions." He says, the boy looks wary but takes the money.

"What do you wanna know?" He asks, and (Y/n) looks around.

"So what happened to your arm?" He asks, and He looks around.

"I got broke.."he says, and (Y/n) raises an eyebrow.

"By?" He says and the kid scoffs.

"By Mike and his little band of gay little fairies." He says, with a lot of Harboring hate.

"Mike beat you up?" He says and the kid shakes his head.

"No he got his crazy little girlfriend to do it." He says, and (Y/n) picks up on it.

"A girl did that?" He asks and Troy gets more upset.

"Yeah but she had these crazy ass powers." Troy says, and (Y/n)'s interest is on high.

"Powers?" He says and Troy nods.

"Yeah; nobody believes me though, not even the police chief." He says, and (Y/n) looks around.

"This girl, she got a name?" He asks and Troy shakes his head.

"No, I don't know it.." he replies.

"Okay, what does Mike look like?" He says and Troy laughs.

"Weirdo dresses up like the ghost hoppers or whatever." He says, and (Y/n) looks around to see if he could find the ones he saw, but they're already gone. (Y/n) curses to himself and gives the kid a nod. "Anything stand out about any of em?" he asks and Troy points to his teeth.

"Yeah, one of the Losers got no front teeth, Dustin Hederson, Weirdo." He begins, and (Y/n) nods.

"Appreciate it." He says and walks away now with new information. He gets in his car and drives off. Getting back to his apartment he walks in with the new information and begins to piece it All together.

"So... this girl must be one from Hawkins, and Mike is the key to get to her. Now it's just getting to this Mike will be the issue..." he says to himself and checks more files. A single word keeps coming up, Brenner. He slams the book shut and begins to reel though the phone book, searching and gets it! The Hederson household! He checks the address and writes it down and heads to bed, two days later, (Y/n) is pulling up to the Henderson home, he keeps a fair distance. He watches as a kid steps out in, what seems to be gear for hockey? He sees another car pull up and a young man steps out from it with a spiked baseball bat.

"Why does he have a... this town is fuckin weird." He says, the two get back into the vehicle and drive off, (Y/n) puts his in drive and follows, eventually they continue into a road near off the train tracks, five to ten minutes pass and the car abruptly stops. (Y/n) does as well and takes a deep sigh.

"Ah shit.. here we go." He says, the boy with the Bat steps out of the car and (Y/n) does as well, and he approaches. (Y/n) takes a deep breath and prepares.

"Hey, Weirdo. Want to explain to me why you're following me?" He says, and (Y/n) shrugs.

"I.. need to talk to the child in the car with you." He says and he raises an eyebrow.

"You want to talk to Henderson? Yeah I don't think so, you're weird compared to the shit I've seen." He says and (Y/n) shakes his head.

"Okay.. well, I'll just apologize in advance for this." He says, he puts his hand up and the guy looks confused, until a flash of lightning hits him, knocking the boy down and out. (Y/n) walks over to the down man who's sizzling a bit and his hair frizzled.

"I'm.. really sorry about that." He says and walks up to the car to a terrified kid.

"Did.. did you just kill Steve?" He says, with a lisp.

"No, didn't kill him... I just wanna talk." He says, and the guy attempts to radio help, (Y/n) concentrated and flashes a bolt of lightning that zaps the radio.

"Now, calm down... I'm just looking for a guy called Mike? Says he knows a girl with Powers, powers like mine." He says, and Dustin begins to piece it all together.

"You.. you know Eleven?" He says, and (Y/n) stops, (Y/n) leans into the car

"Eleven, is that her name? Where is she?!" He says, and Dustin shakes his head.

"W-we don't know, she disappeared after she killed the Demagorgon! After that she's gone." He said, and (Y/n) frowns.

"Demagorgon?..." He says, he thinks and looks back at Dustin.

"Did she have a number tattooed on her wrist?" He asks and Dustin nods. (Y/n) shakily sighs and then be pulls up his, showing a number, three Zeroes.

"You're one of them too... Zero." Dustin says with shock and (Y/n) nods, and he opens the door and looks dustin in the eye.

"Eleven.. she, I guess you could call her my sister." He says, and Dustin leans back a bit.

(Y/n) and Dustin stood across from each other as Steven awoke, he groggily opens his eyes as he quickly gets up and grabs his back.

"Get back dustin!" He screams and prepares to swing, (Y/n) just stands there as Dustin calms the situation.

"Calm down! He's not with the Government! He's Elevens Brother." He says and Steven slowly begins to lower the bat.

"The Girl with the super powers?" Steve says as he lowers the bat.

"Yeah. That's her." (Y/n) says, "And since she's gone.. I guess I don't have any business in Hawkins, sorry to waste your time and, electrocute you, I do feel sorry about that Mister Harrington." He says, and Steve looks at him.

"It's.. Just Steve." He says.

"Oh, Sorry," he replies and walks off, Dustin reaches out.

"Wait." He says, (Y/n) halts and turns to him.

"This might be dumb to ask you for help but, we're tracking something from the Upside Down, the door eleven Opened. You could find some answers if you help us." He says, and (Y/n) thinks, and shakes his head.

"It sounds like you just have a lizard problem.." he says and Dustin groans.

"It's not a normal lizard." He retorts back.

"And how do you know that?" (Y/n) says back and Dustin answers.

"When his face opened up and he ate my cat." Dustin replies, (Y/n) stares and nods to himself.

"Yeah that's Uh.. that's not normal.." He says, and looks at them.

"But Demon Aliens from another dimension sounds a bit, far fetched?" He says and Dustin and Steven frown.

"Coming from the guy who can shoot lightning from his hands." Steve says, and (Y/n) gives in.

"Okay, Fair point. Alright I'll help." He says and Dustin gets in between them.

"Good, Steve, this is (Y/n), (Y/n), this is Steve." Dustin says and (Y/n) and Steve look at each other, and have a, tiny bit of an understanding. They get in their vehicles and drive off, (Y/n) unaware of the situation he's getting himself into.

Chapter 2: Dart.

The trio walk down a railway inside a forest, (Y/n) watches as Dustin and Steve toss bits of meat out of a bucket. (Y/n) walks slightly behind, listening to them talk, and Dustin tries to use his radio.

"Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy? This is a code red. I repeat, a code red! I really need someone to pick up here. Hopper's MIA, and I've got a code red. Code red! ....All right, it's Dustin again.

Seriously, I have a code red." He says and a voice comes back.

"Could you please shut up?" The voice says and (Y/n) walks up next to Dustin.

"Erica? Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?" Dustin asks and (Y/n) peers over.

"Erica?" He asks.

"Don't know. Don't care." She says, (Y/n) could taste the sass radiating from that comment.

"Is he with Mike?" Dustin asks, gripping the radio.

"Like I said, I don't know and I don't care." Erica replies again coldly.

"Please tell him it's super important. Please tell him that I have a code—" Dustin says and Erica cuts him off

"Code red?" She says and he nods.

"Yep, code red. Exactly."

"I got a code for you instead. It's called code shut-your-mouth." Erica cuts the radio and there's nothing but static. (Y/n) looks over at Dustin.

"That girl sounds like a terror." He says and the. To Dustin.

"I guess she was no hell?" He asks and Dustin turns to him.

"Son of a bitch. You're really

no help at all, you know that?" Dustin says and (Y/n) shoots back.

"Then why the hell did you ask for my help?" He says and the three continue tossing meat, but another voice comes on.

"This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?" Lucas says, Probably Erica's sibling.

"Well, well, well, look who it is." Dustin said with a smirk.

"Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off." He explains.

"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgon.

"Wait. What?" Lucas asks and (Y/n) also adds in.

"You never told me what this Demagorgon does." He adds in and Dustin shushes him.

"I'll explain later.Meet me, (Y/n), and Steve at the old junkyard.

"Steve? (Y/n)?" Lucas asks obviously confused,

"And bring your binoculars and wrist rocket." Dustin says and hangs up. They get a few yards from the junkyard and are almost out of meat as Bait.

"I don't know. I just feel like you're trying too hard." Steve says.

"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?" Dustin shoots back as (Y/n) smells the meat.

"Yeah, You and you dumb perfect hair." He adds in, Steve glares at him for a moment.

"Look, It's not about the hair, man. The key with girls is just...just acting like you don't care. It drives them nuts." Steve says, (Y/n) frowns a bit at this advice. But he doesn't say anything and just keeps tossing the bait.

"Then what?" Dustin asks.

"You just wait until, uh...until you feel it." Steve explains, but keeps most of it fairly ambiguous.

"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know?

You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh..." Steve attempts to explain it, but it comes off as nonsensical.

"electricity, you know?" Steven says, finding the right words after looking at (Y/n).

"Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere—" Dustin says and (Y/n) comes in.

"No no, i think Steve means like a, Romantic energy... when a girl likes you and you like her too, this feeling it's like it, like it runs though your bones." He says, and (Y/n) and Steve turn to each other.

"Like a sexual electricity!" They say at The same time, Dustin watches their two brain cells rub against each other on that one. (Y/n) turns to Dustin

"You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?" He asks and Dustin shakes his head.

"Uh, no. No." He says.

"Okay, good. Don't. She's only gonna break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit." Steve says, there's silence between the three.

"Fabergé." He says, (Y/n) and Dustin look at Steve

"What?" They say.

"It's Fabergé Organics. Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp not wet, okay? When it's damp... You do four puffs of the

Farrah Fawcett spray. You tell anyone I just told you

that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson.

Do you understand? Goes for you too mystery man." Steve says and Dustin nods.

"I'm not a mystery man, you just never asked anything about me." He says, Dustin and Steve get a bit quiet and Steve asks.

"Okay. So, where do you come from?" He asks.

"Ohio. Heard from a good source about a Lab here, ran through some leads and that lead me here." He says, the trio slowly come to the scent of rust and the burning sunlight, they reach the junkyard. Housing rusted vehicles and old busses.

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. This will do just fine.

Good call, dude." Steve says, they dump the rest of the meat and stand around.

"I said medium-well!" Lucas yells, they turn to see Lucas a Short African American kid, and a ginger girl standing next to him.

"Who's that?" Steve asks, Looking at the girl.

"Who's that?" Lucas asks, looking at (Y/n).

"You told her?" Dustin asks as they approach,

"So what?" He says and Dustin gets pretty upset.

"So what?" Is that all you have to say?" He says.

"You wanted to tell her, too." Lucas retorts.

(Y/n) and Max look at each other, he offers a handshake.

"(Y/n)" he says.

"Max" she says back, the two share a short hello and go back to listen to them argue.

"But I didn't, all right?" Lucas says, and then turns to (Y/n).

"You told this guy." He says and (Y/n) chimes in.

"For the record I kinda already knew some of this, I just didn't know about the Demagorgon and Upside down universe part." He says, and Dustin defends him.

"He wanted to know what happened to Eleven, she's His Sister." He explains, Lucas Turns to him a bit mesmerized.

"Can you move stuff with your mind too?" He asks and (Y/n) confidently shakes his head.

"No, watch this." He says, (Y/n) turns to face a old car and it's window, much like his younger sister, he raises his hand and focuses, blood pours form his nose but streaks of electricity form down his arm and to his palm, he focuses and looks straight at the window.

"Boom."

In a flash, a bolt of lightning bursts from his hand, it blasts a hole though one window of the car and then to the other. The others stare in amazement and shock, Dustin, Max and Lucas rush to the window to see the melting glass dripping off the window.

"Holy shit." Dustin says as they gaze at the hole.

"You really are a superhero." Lucas says and turns to (Y/n), who's taking a few deep breaths.

"Yeah.. I guess I .. guess I am.. Uh, you guys have like a car battery or something? I'm a little, little drained." He says, everyone looks a bit worried as he walks over to see a power pole. He extends his arm and lightning comes from the pole, hitting his palm it begins to transfer to him, almost revitalizing his body. He looks a bit more rejuvenated and he turns to the group.

"So, How's that for Superhero?" He asks, they look pretty surprised. Later, Dustin and Lucas are talking behind a car.

"And you haven't heard from Mike?"

"No."

"Or Will?"

"No."

"Hopper?"

"No! No one is around. Why do you think I'm

with Steve Harrington and (Y/n)... Uh, (Y/n)—"

"It's Walker!" (Y/n) yells.

"Right, Steve Harrington and (Y/n) Walker" Dustin Finishes his sentence.

"Something's...Wrong." Lucas says and Dustin nods.

"I agree. Which is why we need as much help as we can get." He says, the two turn to Max who's helping bait and trap the junkyard.

"She didn't believe me anyway." Lucas says sadly.

"You probably didn't tell it right, That must be it." Dustin says.

"So, we good?" Lucas asks, they nod and Steve shoves Himself into their conversation.

"Hey! Dickheads! How come the only ones helping

me out is this random guy and girl? We lose light in 40 minutes. Let's go. Let's go, I said!" Steve yells and the two sulk and follow.