#my dad used to call me Wednesday as a kid. i used to think he was exaggerating because i always loved Wednesday

[timeisacephalopod]

On one hand I would love to watch Wednesday, but I've watched reviews and even before that the trailers for it told me it was Addams Family themed Riverdale and that's exactly what the reviews said too 🥹🥹🥹

[fathomlessgaze]

bring your child to work day: zayne and his daughter spend a day at the hospital

fluff, dad!zayne/reader (a little bit), ~2.2k

warnings: reader only makes a small appearance it's mostly about zayne + his daughter spending quality time together tbh, allusions to zayne + mc's lore (no specific memory idt just the overarching theme of their story), zayne is a devoted girl dad bc i believe in girldad!zayne...

a/n: mc/reader + zaynes daughter is named zenith here bc i liked the idea of them sharing an initial 😭 meaning the highest point/the point right above you in the sky bc i think thats what she would be for zayne+mc like one of the best moments of their lifetimes :( anyway it's mentioned in the fic but shes the spitting image of zayne thats his mini-me fr

“good morning,” zayne says, passing by the nurses’ station without much fuss. it’s an ordinary wednesday, after all.  

“morning,” greyson echoes with a curt nod, his eyes still focused on the files he’s reviewing from an overnight patient. 

“mornin’!” a third voice calls happily. 

greyson freezes, his papers falling unceremoniously on the floor. “huh!?” he exclaims, a little too loud for a hospital corridor. 

however the chief pays his outburst no mind, and he suddenly sees why, greyson’s gaze finding the little girl perched on his boss’ hip. of course, he remembers, it’s “bring your child to work” day. but for some reason, he never thought that zayne would actually bring his child to work. perhaps that explains why he’d made sure no surgeries were scheduled for this day weeks ago. 

zayne strokes her dark hair, brushing a loose strand from her pigtails behind her ear. “this is dr. greyson,” he speaks softly, pointing in his direction. “dr. greyson, meet zenith.” 

“nice to meet you!” she exclaims, waving a chubby hand in the air, paying no mind to his wide eyes and slack jaw. 

she can’t be over four judging from her height, and, of course, greyson knew zayne had a daughter, but he didn’t really know. he remembers you mentioning her at your appointments, the photos on his desk and, of course, zayne’s paid time off actually being used at personal all time highs (which had already been on the incline after you moved in and then got married) since a few years ago, but it still feels surreal to actually see him with his child. 

if she has any opinion on greyson’s lack of response besides the cartoon birds that would appear around his head if they were in an animated tv show, she gives no hint. instead, she smiles brightly, her green eyes sparkling as she takes zayne’s glasses off his face and fists the lenses, trying to rotate them in her tiny hands and fit them on her own face. 

somehow, with the much too large frames perched on her nose, she looks even more like her father. everything, from her dark hair tied with ribbons to her hazel eyes, the curve of her brow and little nose, she is her father’s daughter to a t. perhaps the only un-zayne-like thing about her is the permanent cheeriness in her gaze and her gummy smile. that she must’ve gotten from you. while greyson has definitely noticed how his boss has become a little less taciturn and stern over the years, he would be lying to himself if he said he ever thought zayne would become even a miniscule fraction as bubbly as the daughter he holds close right now.

“i didn’t know you were bringing your daughter in today!” greyson exclaims, the realizations of today finally settling and coming together in his mind.

there’s a fondness in his eyes as he glances to zenith, his lips quirking the slightest bit upwards. “she’s been asking for weeks to come with me; i figured now would be the best time with the other kids here. i know you’ve seen the schedule for today, but—”

“oh my god!” yvonne gasps, speeding towards the trio gathered. “you brought your daughter, dr. zayne!” she extends her hand to the girl, which she happily takes. “i’m yvonne, i work with your dad.” 

“i’m zenif,” she babbles, her syllables getting caught on her missing tooth. 

simultaneously both greyson and yvonne coo at the little girl. 

“aren’t you the cutest thing? i’ve seen so many pictures of you but you’re just the dearest little one, hm?” 

and word of mouth travels fast, because, soon enough, a whole crowd has come to fuss over the most adorable little girl who looks exactly like the aloof department chair and has the sweetest smile. she graciously accepts their compliments with quiet ‘thank you's' and hides her face in her father’s neck and shoulder, causing even more ‘aww’s to fall from his colleagues’ lips. when the attention dies down, zayne finally gets to his office, nearly an hour later than he usually would have by now, but he can’t even be annoyed. his little girl is the most precious; of course, he would react in the same way. 

he shuts the door behind them and puts his bag down by his desk, moving zenith so she has a place on his lap when he sits down. “what would you like to do today, hm?” he asks, booting up his computer and finding a pile of files from the depths of a drawer. 

“what do you do?” she asks.

he hums. “well sometimes i see patients who don’t feel well, sometimes i do surgeries on them so they feel better, and sometimes i have to do paperwork. i don’t have any patients or surgeries scheduled today, so we can do whatever you want; how does that sound?”

“what about paperwork?” she exclaims. “you said that’s what you do?” 

“would you like to do paperwork with me?” 

she nods firmly. “i wanna spend time with daddy!” 

his heart softens, his already abnormally warm (at least for work standards) gaze growing even more endeared by his precious, favorite little girl. “you want to spend time with me?” 

her head bobs and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “of course! i love you, daddy.”

pressing a kiss to her cheek, he can’t help a smile. of course he knows she loves him, loves spending time with him. when he’s home she’s practically glued to his hip. and he tries his best to make sure she knows the same. but sometimes it’s just nice to hear it from someone you love. “and i love you, princess.” 

it used to be a foreign expression on his tongue many, many years ago, before you’d returned to his life, and especially before she came into his life. but as time flew by, thanks to you and your help, he’d grown familiar, comfortable, fond with it. while he knew you didn’t mind him not saying that as much as other boyfriends and husbands might from all your conversations, knowing he expressed how much he loved you and then some through other ways, he knew she might not have understood just how her father expressed his feelings and fondness at her young age. 

so beyond his quiet actions, he makes sure to tell her. whether it’s a post-it note in her lunchbox, right next to the heart-shaped sandwich with the crusts cut off, just how she likes it, whenever it’s his turn to make her lunch, or a birthday card she’ll know how to read one day, he tries to tell her through words too. ‘i love you’ went from an expression he seldom said or heard, to one he couldn’t get enough of, whether it be from your lips or hers, and one he always wanted you both to know. 

“let’s see what kind of paperwork we can find for you, then.” coincidentally a knock sounds from the other side of the door. “come in.” 

“they brought some donuts and coloring pages out in the lobby,” yvonne says, popping her head in. “i figured you’d both be interested.” 

“thank you, yvonne.” when the door shuts, zayne leans back to look at his daughter, brushing her hair. “what do you think about that? do you want to take a look?” with her eager nods, zayne stands.

“i wanna walk,” she pouts, tugging on his once crisp button-up, and he puts her down accordingly, taking her small fingers in his. 

they make their way hand in hand down the corridor, drawing even more endeared coos from the staff until they reach the table. kneeling down to her height, he points at a smaller kids table in the corner.

“how about you get some coloring sheets and crayons? i can get you a donut and we can head back and do some paperwork,” he explains.  

she happily obliges, skipping over and inspecting the books with a familiar seriousness (which also makes the other staff coddle her just as much as her bright smiles. “aren’t you so precious!?” “she’s just like her father!” zayne can’t help the small quirk of his lips when he hears how cute they find his daughter, because she is, speaking from his personal experience.). meanwhile he grabs a strawberry donut with sprinkles and a chocolate one, both her favorites, placing them on a napkin and grabbing a few extra knowing how she takes after you in terms of her messiness. 

meeting her in the corner, he bends down, taking a quick look at the drawings she’s taken. “find anything you like?” he asks.

raising her pages to his eyes, she beams. “they have the bears!” 

he smiles softly, tucking her loose hair away. “yes, they do,” he hums. “who knew?” 

it totally wasn’t like he’d ordered specific character coloring books when it was time for the cardiology department to refill their kids’ activity section. it totally wasn’t like he’d looked for some ones he knew his daughter would love. it wasn’t like that at all; zayne maintains he’s as impassive and serious at work as ever…he’s lying to himself.

when she gathers her crayons, the duo make their way back to his office. the day flies quickly by, her babbles and light, curious questions bringing a new level of comfort and joy zayne never thought he’d get from his job. he loves what he does, of course, but everything just seems more enjoyable and memorable with his daughter by his side. or rather, with her on his lap, in her own little world of just her and her beloved dad, oblivious to the seriousness of the paperwork her father is dealing with as she busies herself with her own “paperwork” and scribbles vibrant colors all over the once black and white image.

and zayne thinks he would be perfectly content if it were to stay like this forever. even with all his prizes and awards, nothing could compare to the reward and title of being your husband and zenith’s father. 

he lowers his pen to the desk from his fingers, using his free hand to rest his head as he admires the precious life before him. “i love you, princess,” he murmurs, pinching her cheek. 

“i love you too, daddy!” she turns to face him, crumbs of donut glaze still around her lips. 

he takes a napkin and dabs at her face before checking his watch. you’d said you’d meet them around now… “how about we get lunch soon?” 

right on time, a knock sounds from the door, which opens to reveal you. “how are my favorite doctors doing?” you exclaim. 

“mama!” she cheers, hopping off zayne’s knee and running into your waiting embrace. 

kissing her head, you give her a squeeze. “how’s work with dada going?” 

“i love it here! daddy colors and eats dessert all day,” she cheers. 

glancing to your husband, you chuckle. “is that so?” 

he makes his way towards you both, giving you a peck as you stand, your daughter now on your hip. “something like that,” he mumbles. 

“then maybe i should become a doctor too,” you tease. “is now a good time for lunch?” 

he nods, opening the office door once more and allowing you to pass first. 

“i wanna become a doc-tor, too,” zenith ponders, suddenly serious with her small fingers tapping at her chin as she thinks, a habit no doubt from her father. “then daddy and i can color and eat snacks together forever!” 

“is that so?” you ask, but you can’t help the smile you shoot at your husband. 

she bobs her head, a determined furrow in her brow. “i wanna be with mama and daddy forever.” 

zayne has a warm fondness in his gaze as his eyes find his daughter. she looks up to him with wide eyes and her gummy grin, reaching her small hand out for his own, which he happily obliges. her tiny fist wraps around two of fingers, and he briefly wishes that she could stay his little girl for eternity. she doesn’t need to know how hard her dad’s job actually is, how much work he had to put in to get to where they are now, the sorrows of her parents’ past. she is a precious gem, the shining peak of all your shared lifetimes. 

this one existence, finally at peace, a happy ending for you and him, domestic bliss with the two, now three, of you, he thinks it’s worth every tear that’s been shed before. and maybe in another universe and lifetime, the you’ll get another happy ending. he thinks that even if it’s a simple life, as long as it’s with the two of you, it’d be one he cherishes and treasures close to every fiber of his existence, one he would fight all there may be to remember, for no god could tear his devotion. maybe he’d even bet every splintering past life that led to this one was worth the years he’s gotten to spend with you in this one, and the years still to come. so he hopes she stays as optimistic and bright as ever, that you stay by his side in this heavenly life he could only once dream of. after all, ice is made of crystals.

[iammattswife]

20 year olds playing with kids toys (Matt’s daughter joins)

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DadMatt DadMatt DadMatt !!!

I haven't written in so fucking long please excuse how terrible this is.

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Also I named the daughter Kiara cus I like the name and wanna name my kid that, was literally so close to naming his wife after me.

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“This is the Fairy-Corn Princess Surprise, I didn’t think we needed this. This was one of the last things we grabbed but Matt thought we needed it because it has over 35 princess surprises inside” Nick states as he puts the egg-shaped toy down on the counter, prepared to start opening up their first toy.

“Well, I also thought Kiara would like it- she’s been obsessed with fairies recently, figured why not get it for the video then give it to her”

As they’re opening the egg, commenting on the unicorn inside Matt notices something on the instructions paper, excitedly, he gasps. “You can wear the wings!” he exclaims

“Okay hold on this is important- How do you get the wings off!?”

“This is about to get real. Hold on I’m getting Kiara”

“Sweetheart!” Matt can be heard in the background of the camera, calling out for his daughter as he’s walking towards the living room where his 3-year-old daughter is sitting on the carpet having a tea party with her mom, Ella (her soft, adorable, stuffed bear) and Ivy (the family’s cat).

“Hey cutie I have something for you” Kiara jolted up, excitedly, her dad always had the best gifts. She jumped up into his arms, him catching her with ease, used to her liking to be held. She had her legs wrapped around his waist and her face in his neck as he softly rubbed her back with his right hand, holding her up with his left.

He turned around going back to the kitchen but before getting in front of the camera he softly asked, “Are you okay with being in the video baby?” she nodded, excited for what her dad had for her. “You sure? I need words, princess, if you don’t want to be in it, I can show you after we’re done. There’s no pressure I want you to be comfortable”

“I’m sure daddy” she nodded her head to him. “I’m always comfortable with you” she added, making his heart melt and his smile widen, his eyes gleaming with content. “I’m glad baby, want nothing more but for you to be happy and comfortable” he says, kissing her head as he walks towards the counter where his brothers are waiting for him.

Usually, Matt and his brothers would film their Wednesday video earlier in the morning so Kiara would be in preschool at the time. However, she recently fell victim to the flu which resulted in her parents keeping her home for a few days. It was now getting later in the night and Kiara had gotten out of the bathtub a few hours ago, While she was getting dressed in her favourite pyjama set- long sleeve pink top with “princess” written on it with a cute sparkly crown and pants with the same design on the right leg, she had made both her mama and dada promise to have a sleepover in her room that night- as she always does when she’s sick.

Matt was not going to break that promise. So, although it was late, and an hour past the girls' bedtime, they let her stay awake until they finished filming.

“Hey pretty girl” Chris says to Kiara looking at her in Matt’s arms as he sits back down next to him, putting Kiara on his lap. “FAIRY WINGS!” Kiara exclaims, her eyes widening as she looks on the counter quickly snatching them as if a robber was going to come for them.

“Jesus Christ girl no one’s stealing them from you” Nick states as Matt laughs at his daughter’s excitement and possessiveness over the wings.

“You want me to put them on you?”

“Yes! Please I want to be a princess fairy” She quickly replies, dragging out the words. “Alright come on”

Matt grabs her from her hips and sets her up on the counter, her fuzzy socks keeping her warm from the cold. She turns around facing her dad ready for him to put the wings on her, so she could be a real princess fairy, with real fairy wings.

“Arms up” Matt tells her as he sees his wife leaning on the entry to the kitchen, watching her favourite people in amusement.

Kiara quickly puts her arms up causing her shirt to slide up with her- “you’re getting taller baby we need to get you big girl pyjamas” Matt says as he puts her shirt back down knowing the weirdos that are on the internet.

He’s careful with his words, most people would say “bigger” but he did not want his daughter to overthink his wording, even if she was only an innocent 3-year-old unaware of society’s criticism on “bigger” people.

“No I like these want to wear em’ foever’ and ever” she replies, absolutely shocked by the idea of getting rid of her super special perfect princess pyjamas

“We could get you similar ones baby just a size up since you’re growing up- you’ve had those for over a year baby you’re getting older” Matt says as he ties the string of the fairy wings around his daughter's chest, already planning the new pyjamas he’s going to get her.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to tie behind her, isn’t it?”

“Nick it’s wings dude”

“Yeah dude”

They all chuckle at Kiara’s agreement with her uncle Chris.

Matt ties a bow with the strings. “Is that good? Not too tight right?”  He asks not wanting the pressure tied around her to hurt his baby girl.

Kiara grabs the stuffed unicorn from the counter hugging it tightly around her chest as she jumps back onto her dad's lap. “Wait Kia here” her mama says handing her the tiara and wand, going to stand behind Matt with her arms on his shoulders “Thankyou mommy, now I’m a true princess fairy” she gleams happily.

“Wait who did we get?” Matt says looking over the paper that came with the toy as he leans back into his wife while another arm is wrapped around his daughter, making sure she doesn’t fall off his lap. 

“That’s Ruby”

“That’s clearly Ruby, Matt”

“Is it Ruby?” he says as he looks at the unicorn in his daughter's grip.

“Oh then they want you to collect them all so it’s a scam”

“There’s more? I want them all! Can I have more please?” Kiara asks hopefully giving her dad those eyes that he can never say no to. “I don’t think we can get them all sweetheart, there's too many but we can get another one next time we go to Target” Matt’s wife replies before he manages to, knowing he would’ve said yes and bought her thousands of dollars’ worth of these toys if she didn’t step in.

-

As the boys look over the next toy Kiara plays around with Ivy in the kitchen, getting bored from the lack of princess toys and wings. She can still hear her dad and uncles talking and looking over toys, when another toy comes up and her dad says, “Oh you got to turn her on” they all erupt in laughter.

She looks up, confused about what’s so funny about turning on a toy so you can play with it. “I meant like on the bottom dude, the actual power button- you guys are sick” Matt says as the laughter calms down, Kiara, confused, asks her dad “What other way would you turn her on?”

“Oh sweetie I think your dad knows plenty of ways to turn a woman on especially your mum” Chris gets slapped in the back of his head. “Don’t say that Chris” Matt says in shock, not wanting to explain to his daughter what they’re talking about. “Why?” Kiara asks, still confused.

“See Kiara when two people love each other very much” Chris starts only to be stopped by Matt once again. “Like my mommy and daddy?” she questions, Chris is unable to answer as Matt’s hands are over his mouth, blocking out his words.

“Exactly like your mommy and daddy”

“Nick!” Matt exclaims in shock.

“I’m confused” Kiara states looking at them annoyed.

“Don’t worry about it baby, Uncle Chris and Uncle Nick are being stupid as usual, ignore them” Matt replies hoping she’ll let it go.

“Do you turn mommy on?” She wonders trying to get to the bottom of this. Loud laughter erupts from the girls’ uncles. “Uhm- well you know when me and mommy kiss?” Matt says to her, trying to get around it without having to lie or keep something from his daughter, after all, it’s a normal thing. As she nods, he continues “Well- It has to do with that, okay? It’s only done when two people are in love and married” Matt is obviously aware that two people do not have to be in love or married to kiss or "turn eachother on" but he didnt want his baby knowing that.

“Oh okay” Kiara replies, pleased with the answer of knowing more about love.

She’s always loved love, especially when it has to do with her parents, she loves knowing they are in love, she loves watching them kiss, laugh and hold each other. She believes she got lucky to have parents so in love.

“Pretend this is my second kid, okay? You guys are uncles again and Kiara has a sibling” Matt says as he starts feeding the toy lamb its bottle.

He starts having déjà vu of when Kiara still drank out of the bottle, he misses those times but is so happy to see her grow up.

He starts to picture himself feeding their second kid, knowing the “pretend” would soon be real as the married couple found out the night before that they’re 6 weeks pregnant and expecting their second. He was so excited and couldn’t wait to start telling people he was going to have another baby, especially couldn’t wait to tell Kiara she was getting a baby sister- or brother, but he secretly wished it would be another girl.

-

As Matt is playing around with the Barbie doll he and his brothers opened he feels a tug on his pant leg, he looks down and sees his daughter who previously left to go potty back in the kitchen, he notices she has taken off her tiara and tried to tie her hair up, she always had issues with turning the hair tie, but she’s trying hard to learn to do her hair and he’s proud of that. “Yeah baby?” He asked her as he looked down at her as his brothers continued to play with the doll.

“Can you put my hair up please” she mumbles, getting tired.

“Yeah, baby of course” He lifts her, setting her down on his lap

“What do you want sweetie? Ponytail?” He asks her as he starts gently leading her curly hair back and grabbing it all together, untying some strands that got stuck on her fairy wings.

“Can you do a braid please”

“Yep” He replies, gently stroking his hand over her head as he kisses the back of her head, starting to separate the hair pieces for the braid.

He can notice she’s getting tired, it’s well past her bedtime now but what worries him is when he hears a sniffle “Are you okay sweetheart?” he asks in worry that she’s crying as he finishes up the braid. She wipes her nose with her long sleeve “Yeah daddy, just have to blow my nose” Matt sighs in relief, knowing she’s not upset just sick.

He grabs a hair tie from his wrist where he always keeps extras in case she or his wife needs one.

He ties the end of her hair, makeing sure to keep the braid secure.

He grabs a small packet of tissues that he stored in his pants in case she needed to blow, knowing how annoying a runny nose could be, he opens one up for her and holds it in front of her nose as she blows on it, he scrunches it up and puts it away on the counter to throw away later.

Matt continues with the video keeping Kiara snuggled up on his lap as she too starts to play with the Barbie dolls.

-

Kiara is now softly held in her mom’s arms as she walks back into the kitchen, “Hey you guys almost done? She doesn’t want to sleep without you there Matt”

He looks up, eyes gleaming as he sees his two favourite girls walk in the room “Yeah we’re practically done just have to do the outro” Nick replies as Matt leans closer to his girls, pretending to knock on both of their heads with the toy hammer, making both of them giggle.

“Daddy is like Bob the builder with the belt” Kiara states, laughing at her dad.

“Oh yeah?” Matt replies, starting to tickle her which causes her to laugh and her mom to giggle at them.

Matt grabs her out of her mama's arms and tightly hugs her close to him, grabbing his wife’s hand and pulling her into the hug as well.

“Family hug” he exclaims giggly, as he kisses his daughter's head, then his wife, and pretends to kiss his wife's belly knowing he can’t do that without striking suspicion.

“Also, just in case you guys are wondering we’re not throwing all of this away, my mom’s going to donate it to some little kids she knows” Nick tells the camera.

“Kids in need” Matt adds.

“Except unicorn and wings” Kiara chimes in.

They all laugh at her eagerness for the unicorn and its wings, “Except for the unicorn and its wings, Kiara wants to keep them” Nick adds to his previous statement.

“I want to keep everything, but I can share” The girl adds.

“So kids will have fun with these toys” Nick starts to continue talking directly to the camera but Kiara interrupts.

“Can we give the kids my old toys too? And the ones I don’t play with? I think some of them would like my toys”

“I think some kids will love your toys sweetie” Her mom adds, proud of her daughter for wanting to donate,

“Yeah Kia that’s great”

“That’s so sweet of you Kiara I’m sure they’ll appreciate it”

Matt gleams brightly at his daughter “I’m glad you want to donate Kiara that’s really good” He says proudly

“You’re so sweet and kind” he kisses her cheek.

“Sweetest girl in the world” her mama continues, kissing her other cheek.

Matt leans closer to his wife, pressing a kiss on her lips.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah baby?"

"Did that turn mommy on?" She asks referring to their previous conversation.

Lond laughter erupts from all of the boys.

"What!?" Matt's wife exclaims confused as they all continue laughing

-

“Okay, we’ll see you guys next Friday!”

“Bye!” Kiara says as she continues to drag out the word, waving goodbye to the camera.

-

Comments:

Fan1: OMG KIARA!!! MISSED SEEING HER IN VIDEOS

Fan2: came for the triplets, stayed for kiara

Fan3: MATTS SUCH A GOOD DAD?? AND HE KNOWS HOW TO BRAID???

Fan4: the way he holds her and is so gentle with her 😭😭😭 wish i had a dad

Fan5: the facr that he made sure zhe was okay being on camera is so so cute and adorable and hot and sexy

^iammattswife: so real for that comment

Fan6: Need more kiara content please

Fan7: THE TURNING HER ON JOKES LMAOSOO

Fan8: Kiara is so sweet u can tell shes being raised right

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Tags: @cindylcuwho @keerahsturn

[queenie-ofthe-void]

🪱🧠Wiggly Wednesday 🧠🪱

Tagged by @wheneverfeasible 💜 I'm a week late but I got there. This is also me tagging you back!

~~~

I'm thinking about Steve Harrington growing up hating everyone.

His dad is cruel, so he hates him.

His mom tells him men are dogs. Men are pigs. Men will do or say anything to get what they want. So he hates her.

The boys at school are cruel like his dad, just like his mom warned him, so he hates them.

He starts high school. He's tall, with big eyes, thick hair, and cute lips. Girls were nice to him, he thought they were friends. But they only did what they did and said what they said to crawl under him and wield him like a trophy. So he hates them.

Hates them less when he's buried inside them. Hates them more when they leave the same night.

He's a man now, just like his dad. So he hates himself.

Carol's the same as other girls, but different. She leaves but comes back sometimes. Hangs around. She meets Tommy, and Steve likes Tommy. But they're mean to Nancy, and Nancy's the only thing Steve loves. So he hates them too.

He hates Billy. Hates him as much as he hates his father. Billy's easy to hate.

Nancy thinks he's bullshit. He tries to hate her, but it's hard.

The kids... he can't find a reason to hate them. They're loud and obnoxious and snappy, but they like him. They always come around. They call him out when he's bitchy, and he likes that. He chases after them, drives them around. Shoots hoops with Lucas, let's Max teach him how to skateboard, does most of the heavy lifting for Dustin's experiments.

There's no way he can hate them.

And that's when he realizes how fucking draining it is to hate that many people. He's exhausted. So he decides to stop.

Robin wants him to hate her. She's desperate for it because that would make everything so much easier. He doesn't hate her. And she finds she can't hate him in return.

Eddie's the first person he meets who likes him. Doesn't want anything from him, isn't using him, doesn't hate him, doesn't just see him as a protector or babysitter or a good fuck or a failure or an idiot. Eddie likes him for him, exactly the way he is.

It's easy to love Eddie.

@runninriot @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @sadisticaltarts @devondespresso @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

@strangersteddierthings

[eveningalchemist]

Black Sails ended in 2017. Vine died in 2017.

Coincidence?? I think NOT!!!

[Video Description: a compilation of clips from Black Sails, with the audio replaced by Vines. transitions are a ship, the Walrus, exploding. a full description of each Vine is written beneath the cut. end ID]

I think we're gonna be friends kazoo kid vine over Silver and Flint in the we might be friends by then scene.

Screaming kid good morning vine over Joshua trying to jump scare Gates.

Don't fuck with me vine over Jack Rackham fighting for his first prize with another pirate captain.

The fuck this shit I'm out song over Silver watching Flint beat Singleton to death. Silver jumps overboard after.

The when will you learn vine over Max shouting at Eleanor during their break-up scene.

The yeet vine over Flint tossing Richard Guthrie's wig off the boat.

The free your mind vine over Vane's speech before he fights the logging camp leader. Fast-forward though the fight to Vane getting his face kicked in.

Sail! vine over a beautiful opening shot of the Walrus. A crew member shouts. Cut to the Walrus being blasted apart with cannon-fire.

Today I will be playing Mozart vine over Miranda about to play on her clavichord before being interrupted by Flint collapsing at her door.

Kitty! I want to sing you a song vine over various scenes of Randall and Betsy, the ship cat.

Do you ever want to talk about your emotions vine over Gates chastising Flint outside in Nassau, cut with Billy interrupting.

Gimme your fucking money vine over Eleanor arguing with a pirate crew, followed by Vane throwing Ned Lowe across his cabin, cutting to his warning sign that reads, I angered Charles Vane

Saw you hanging out with Katelyn yesterday vine over Billy confronting Dufresne about his betrayal, with pirates reacting in the background.

I am the sand guardian vine over Flint and Silver on the beach after the Walrus is wrecked, cutting to Dufresne walking away from them.

It is Wednesday my dudes vine over the island's Puritan priest practicing his sermon in a field looking distressed, overlaid with the scene of Miranda seducing him.

Barbecue sauce on my tittles vine over the scene of Gates and Flint drinking during the storm, with Gates giving a solemn speech. Cutting to Flint laughing drunkenly.

Welcome to Chili's vine over Anne going to Max's room, interrupted by Jack appearing while they are in bed.

Harry what's for dindin vine over a crew member walking up to Silver while he's giving his goings-on report. He punches Silver in the gut and Flint makes an 'oh' face.

Bop-It! vine over quick cut scenes of Jack, Anne, and Vane, including various fuck-you jack moments.

Welcome to my meet or greet vine over Colonel Rhett of Charlestown welcoming Flint into the city, unfriendly.

Dad look, it's the good kush! vine over Vane rolling a cigar, cutting to Blackbeard standing in his tent looking tired.

It's an avocado vine over Woodes Rogers receiving Eleanor's embroidery attempt.

Do you have any ice? vine over Thomas Hamilton explaining his plan to pardon the pirates to Flint, who looks baffled.

Somebody left an ice cube on the ground vine over Silver walking into Nassau's tavern to call-out the pirates for taking pardons. He hits Dufresne with a mug.

Get on top of the fridge vine over Flint yelling at Billy during the storm. Cut to Billy clinging onto a yard as the ship nearly capsizes.

Look at this graph vine over Silver trying to use navigation instruments and explaining them to Madi. Madi looks increasingly concerned.

Road work ahead? vine over Jack in Roger's carriage as they are approached by pirates on horseback. The carriage crashes.

You should get the orange soda vine over Eleanor and Max talking in her office after Eleanor's return from London. Eleanor is the orange soda woman and Rogers is the waiter.

Two bros chillin' in the hot tub vine over quick cuts of scenes of Silver and Flint, including sitting on the beach after the doldrums, staring at each other across a gap, and Madi in between them giving Silver a pointed look.

Release all of those sounds that are trapped in your mind vine over Vane talking to Eleanor while he's in prison. Cut to Eleanor screaming in the corner.

The fuck is in the air vine over Jack arriving in Boston and complaining about the snow.

I love you, bitch, vine over Vane getting punched by Eleanor, then getting a noose slipping around his neck as she watches.

It's finals week vine over Silver scenes across all seasons, from pleading his innocence in season 1, to getting his leg removed, to trying to save Muldoon from drowning, and then pulling a gun on Flint in the final episode.

[honestsycrets]

omggg I would love to request a "are you really so oblivious?" with Miguel

❛ summary | you're not picking up on any of the signs Miguel is throwing. he's is desperate enough to ask your pupil pavitr for help.

❛ sy's notes | as requested! i will post dad!miguel drabble on wednesday.

❛ sy's tags | pupil pavitr, pavitr being a helpful bug, some anger, some violence, mostly just minor angst and some cuteness.

“She's pretty, no?" Pavitr sings, "You could just assssk her. ”

Miguel doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn't know why he's still trying after the trainwreck that was February. He also doesn’t know why the kid insists that 'help' is bombing his dates just to whisper in his ear. Dates that he feels are dates but you don’t know are dates.

That's what happens when you want a woman who hasn't dated in years.

It’s not enough that he’s stuffed himself into clothes that he doesn’t like, like the black button-up that is a size too small, because that’s the largest size he could find. He leaves a button or two exposed because as Pavitr says, you love to comment on how soft he looks with just a little skin. He has to be soft, too.

As if being soft was ever a good thing for Miguel. It never failed. He gets soft, his life goes complete and utter shit. You’re nibbling a hunk of roti between your thumb and index finger, grinning behind your fingers. You might have heard it, but like many things, you’re not connecting the dots. You never connect the fucking dots.

“Hm, new girlfriend, Pav?”

“Me?” he peeped, his grin ear to ear. “No! Bhaiya has his eye on a girl. A pretty girl.”

The loud cafe was full of beautiful women with thick bangles, kohl-lined eyes, and playful smiles. They spoke about all kinds of things: family life, relationships, friendships, and school. Of every woman here, he finds himself aching to know what goes on behind your eyes, almost troubled with what Pavitr was saying.

“Mi Miguel?” you tilt your head, a set of your gilded earrings clinking as you moved. Pavitr suggested you dress up on purpose-- Despite the power that courses through his upper body, Miguel feels weak. "Not my Miguel."

My Miguel-- Mi Miguel, both sound gorgeous when they come your lips. He could get used to it.

“See, she said ‘mi’, that’s your chance,” he’s whispering in Miguel’s ear. He pinches his brow, rolling the skin between his fingertips. Whatever chance Pavitr thinks he has is slipping away. Miguel can’t be bothered to stop it. This kid can't possibly know how you feel.

“You have to be talking about someone else. All those Spiders in HQ and yet Miguel never goes after them, not one. Mira-- Pav. On San Valentín Miguel gave me flowers, rosas. Of all the girls!”

Fuck. Pav blinked, his gaze following Miguel in his seat. He doesn’t address his humiliation, just lets you chew on it. He closes his eyes, wishing that he could forget that awkward day. It was pathetic, the way he called you into his lab, a bundle of roses in his arms. Just for a kiss on the cheek that proceeded to torment him the rest of the month. Aw, how cute, Miggy.

All that... just to be called cute.

"Maybe he likes you! Did you get him anything?" Pav is trying here, but you’re not picking up on anything that he’s laying down. You laughed it off, awkward as you were.

“Me? No, Miguel-- he doesn't like me,” you clean your hands and lean in your chair. Your sultry eyes fall on Miguel, bidding him to lower his hand from his eyes. He catches your gaze as you ask, "Do you, Miggy?"

"No. You're making assumptions."

Your eyes scan Miguel over, searching for some sort of fault in Miguel's face. Solemn, playing as amused. You don't find any in his hard gaze. You come to the antithesis of what he meant, assuming that he was talking to Pavitr rather than you. Your gaze hardens, shutting him out from the depths of your emotions. Then, your mood turns. It's not like you.

“See? The day Miguel finds a woman is the day I'll find a man." You reach for your tea, lips churning in a frown. " Pero, since he has someone, I should start looking in Nueva York, hm?”

Pavitr grimaces.

“Damn it!” Miguel bites out. His hand slams on the flimsy table, snapping it in two. Your tea spills over your gold dress as Pavitr and you lurch to stabilize it. It didn’t help that there were countless sets of warm eyes boring at Miguel as he stormed through the tiny entrance of the shop to avoid more damage to the poor owner’s store.

Why did he try? He was entirely sick of it. Sick of trying to show how much damn work he was doing to get you to understand how he felt. Pavitr had not helped at all. If anything, he made it worse. At least before-- you weren't looking for someone. When you were alone, just with him, it could be the two of you. No one else mattered. Miguel regrets stomaching his pride just to ask the boy for help. What was he thinking-- asking a teenager about adult issues?

“Miggy!”

He hears your voice but dips into the busy crowd. He sticking out like a sore thumb with his excessive muscle tone and your quick steps, quicker with your spider abilities. If you were anyone else, he would have cut you out of his life. Instead, he’s just a bug stuck in your spider web.

You snatched his watch-clad wrist, whirling him around. He can’t fight your touch, he longs for it, craves it more than he’s craved anything in the past few months. You shove him into a shadowy alleyway. His back connects with the wall, head shifting to the sea of saris and rich color. He isn’t looking at you.

“Miguel O’Hara, look at me.”

“Go find that man you want so much,” he bit out, the words scratching out of his throat as if they had barbs.

“¿Qué? Miguel, you’re-- dios mío. Why are you acting so angry? You didn't want me!”

“Of course, I want you! But you are-- are you really so oblivious?” he shouted, his fist connecting with the wall beside him, A crater forms around his massive hand, shaking loose dust from the building. "Nothing I do is enough."

"Stop," you grasp his hand, bringing them to your hand for a slight kiss. His heart rips into his chest, suddenly unable to tear his eye away from the red stain of lipstick over his knuckles. His irritation cools like cold water meeting a roiling boil, tracking how you shift his large palm to your cheek.

“Perdóname. I thought--” you find yourself mumbling, “You… How could you like me?”

He watches your hand fall away from his, maintaining a hold on your cheek. Even now, he finds you beautiful, soaked in chai all over your gilded gown. He knows why you can’t understand. Since he’s known you, you rarely had a man pursue you because as a girlfriend. Aside from your shapely body, you were the sort of woman men didn’t usually pursue. He knows you don’t like his shouting, it shows in the way your eyes dart to the pebbles under his boots. He tapers down his tone.

“I just do.” He sets a small kiss on your forehead, his hand slipping around to collar your nape. Your fingers turn over his tawny exposed chest, almost shyly so. You could bring him to his knees touching him like that, a gentleness that he’s only longed for since he first fell for you. You’re so close-- yet, nothing is solidified. It could slip away. “¿Y tú?”

“I-- I do, I do too.”

Your cheeks flush. Moreso when he spots Pavitr peeking around the corner, gazing at his thumb stroking your cheek with the most aggravating smile ruptured across his face. Miguel releases a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding, his tone becoming sharp, nearly heartless in the way he says them.

“Soooo, do you... need any more help, Bhaiya?”

“I think we can take it from here, Pav. Thank you for helping me.”

Helping you? Miguel snaps down to look at you. You gaze back into Miguel’s confused eyes with the warmth that he needs at that moment. Pavitr’s picking-- about asking you out, teasing him when you said you’d find someone else-- suddenly makes complete sense. Pav slides away, grinning like the idiot Miguel feels he is.

“What do you mean-- Helping you?”

“Well,” you smiled. “Miggy. He’s my kid. You couldn’t have really thought he’d help you.”

“No. Apparently not."

[passivenovember]

thinking about the first time Billy has cherry pie and the lengths he'll travel to have it again.

--

Fresh Cherries (part one)

--

Because it's December, Neil makes concessions.

Billy isn't allowed to do whatever he wants, never that, but his leash isn't vice-like. There's some give as he tests his boundaries when there's snow on the ground. Billy isn't sure why, but he isn't about to ruin a good thing.

But. Steve calls on a Wednesday night and says, "Come over."

Billy has to chew and swallow the automated response he's used to giving. It's a school night, Neil'd kill me, and feels like he just got dusted with sugar and put in the oven. Says, "Sure. Let me ask my dad."

"Just sneak out," Steve tells him.

Billy checks the alarm clock on his bedside table. "It's seven thirty."

"So?"

"So, it's not sneaking out hours."

"You're such a stick in the mud," Steve says.

"I'm not, I just--" don't feel like getting my teeth knocked in. Billy picks at the threads in his duvet cover. Counts to three. "I want to be a good influence on you, Harrington."

Steve squaks. Some bright, quaffed bird. "I'm a year older than you!"

"Only 'cause you got held back in the third grade," Billy says. He flops over onto his belly, bringing the phone with him as he tries not to get wrapped up in the chord when Steve laughs.

"This is what I get for telling you all my deepest darkest shit," Steve rustles on the other end of the line and Billy imagines him in bed, or laying on the couch. Maybe flat on the carpet, near the fireplace, shirtless and eating chocolate covered strawberries--

"C'mon," Steve says gently, "Be a bad influence, come hang out with me."

"My dad--"

"Just sneak out, Malibu."

Billy grunts, not wanting to tell the truth, kind of into how Steve's growing more and more whiny as the scene presses on. "I dunno."

"C'mon, it's not hard. I sneak out all the time. Out of my house and into my car and in through your window--"

"--That's different. Your parents don't give a shit where you are."

"You're right. Who cares, though? I'd still sneak out to see you even if they had a bell permanently installed around my neck."

Billy's heart feels like raw cookie dough, sticking to the ribs around him as he bakes and proves under some bright, shining, plastic feeling. "Are they home this week?"

"Nope," Steve says, and the P explodes over the phone line. Wipes out half the city in his excitement. "Mom bought a ton of shit to get me through 'till the twenty-eighth, so we can--"

"You're spending Christmas alone?"

"I always spend Christmas alone," Steve says. Quiet sits heavy, like a filed of snow, between them. Stretching out in every direction. "It's not a big deal. We celebrate Christmas in November."

"With Thanksgiving?"

"Nah, right at the start of November."

"Alongside Halloween?" Billy spats, sitting upright on the mattress. It jostles underneath him. He feels like a raft lost in some huge, freezing, disorienting sea.

He tries to get his barring's, tries to sink his heel into Steve's answering laugh but its hollow like a dead tree, "One year Santa was my dad, dressed as the Cowardly Lion." Steve says.

Billy tries to imagine it. He puts the hard, chilled seed of Steve's childhood near his molars and chews on it for a while, trying to envision the light refracted from all the ways childhood has to bend and contort to suit a kid's parents.

"I never believed in Santa," He says. An offering. Sadness for sadness, or something, like I see you.

Steve hums, and that horrible field of ice and snow between them melts, just like it always does. "Come over," He says, not as hollow as before. Blooming.

Billy puts his shoes on.

--

The Harringtons live in some demented alternate reality where Christmas in December is all for show. Their house has been decorated since the last time Billy was here in Saturday.

He knocks and stares down at Santa, the looming silver-screen image from his childhood, dressed in a floral button down, board shorts and flip flops. Somehow feels colder. When Steve opens the door, he points at it.

"My mom's theme this year is Blue Hawaii." Steve says.

Billy stumbles over the threshold, teeth chattering to shards in his skull. "That's not a Christmas Movie."

"Yeah, but it turns out, Santa can be anything. He's kinda like a chameleon."

"Santa isn't Elvis."

"He could be," Steve says.

Billy shrugs out of his jacket, handing it off, like always. Steve holds it close to his chest, watching with amusement as Billy takes in the foyer. Toes out of his snow-covered boots. "It's like a tiki bar made of pine trees instead of sweet grass."

Steve nods, still clutching the jacket.

His eyes are red.

Billy squints at him, padding closer. "Are you high?"

Steve giggles, bright like a fresh log in the fire.

Billy scrubs a hand across his face, trying to hide the way it makes him go up in Steve's flame. "You're such a dork."

"What? I thought we could--"

"I only have a few hours," Billy tells him gently, trying not to get lost in the sleepy, apple-red flush across Steve's perfect nose. "My dad'll--"

"Just tell him I'm left on my own for Christmas. Maybe he'll feel sorry for me and let you stay the night."

"How do you think I got him to agree to an 11:30 curfew?"

Steve blinks at him and then explodes into glowing, glaring joy. "Are you shitting me?"

"Nope, I'm all yours 'till 11:30."

Steve flushes again, clutching Billy's jacket closer to his chest. "But it's a school night--"

"Guess my old man took pitty on you. Such a lonely boy in his Elvis-themed mansion on the hill, it's kinda pathetic," Billy says, "In a cute way."

"It's not Elvis," Steve says, still grinning, "It's Blue Hawaii."

"Still cute," Billy shrugs, feeling hot all over. Feeling proud of himself. He nearly combusts when Steve moves into his space, eyes nearly going cross to focus on the bridge of Steve's nose.

Billy holds his breath.

He waits for Steve to say something, feeling that huge filed stretch out between them, but it's not snow-covered now.

It's thawing. It's burning up.

Steve wets his lips.

"Uh," Billy says intelligently, looking down when the sleeve of his jacket tugs at him, still viced in Steve's hold. "You can put that in the closet," Billy tells him, caught on the strech of skin over Steve's knuckles. "If you want."

"I don't," Steve tells him.

Billy looks up, eyes crossing again.

Steve winks. "You're warm," He says but Billy feels it, more than anything else.

--

The smell of marijuana and pine is overwhelming, searing through the air after the first shared joint.

Billy rolls his neck and asks if they can crack a window. Steve blinks at him, sealing the second joint with spit. "You trying to get caught, or something?"

"Caught?" Billy asks, trying to force his shoulders to relax. "But. I thought--"

"--The neighbors are nosy 'round these parts." Steve says. He tucks his rolling tray under the coffee table, and Billy watches with droopy red eyes the way his lips close around the butt of the thing.

Steve's lips are perfect.

If Billy was an artist he'd fill sketchbooks with watercolor renditions of that cupid's bow. His fingers would permanently stain with lapping waves of purple-pink, etching the warmth of breath into his nail beds so that the faucet would never run clear of this boy.

He could get lost in those lips. That hair--

Steve hands him the joint and Billy takes it, focusing on the cherry so he won't get lost in Steve's eyes, too, because he's looking. Always.

Billy tries not to drown in it and fails when Steve says, "Y'know. Your eyes are kinda like Blue Hawaii."

"Again with Elvis?" Billy rolls them, handing the joint back. "You're the one who stole his wig."

"My hair is not a wig, fuck you."

"Coulda fooled me."

Steve holds smoke in his lungs, exhaling it toward the popcorn ceiling as he says, "Your eyes are blue."

Billy snorts, laying with his back on the carpet.

"They're the bluest things I've ever seen," Steve says, ashing the joint. "And I've tried to find something bluer. Around town. I even went to the library to look for something in an atlas when Indiana disappointed me, like maybe the ocean is bluer and clearer in the Caribbean, or something, but no."

Billy's heart thumps, nailing his ribs to the floor underneath.

He counts the joints in the popcorn overhead. He feels Steve looking at him, feels himself burning from the inside.

"You're just the most detailed asshole who's ever lived," Steve says, softly.

Billy could sink into it. "Thanks."

Silence falls, again. It's comfortable. Billy stretches, a little bit, twisting until his spine cracks, until he feels like he could pass out from how relaxed he is.

Steve hands him the joint.

Billy shakes his head.

"Why not?" Steve asks.

"I'm laying down," Billy tells the ceiling, "I feel like if I smoke anymore my lungs will give out, or maybe I'll float through the ceiling and disappear."

Steve exhales more smoke. "And right before Christmas, too."

Billy sits crisscross on the carpet, watching Steve puff, inhale, puff, inhale. "You're really not stressed about being home by yourself for six days?"

Steve shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"I like having the house to myself," Steve tells him, "Besides, I feel like if I have to spend any more time with my parents this year I'm going to sink right through the floor." Teasing. An echo of Billy's childhood fear of ascending into the ozone.

Billy pokes him with his foot, flushed.

Steve finishes the joint and slides closer. Their knees touch. "What kind of Christmases did you have when you were growing up?"

Billy shrugs. "I'm sill growing up."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, just. I dunno," Billy gets lost in Steve's eyes, a little. Classic beauty. "It was the Coca-Cola Santa kind?"

Steve laughs at him, and then his palms are warm on Billy's knee caps. "The kind with Bing Crosby and miniature towns on the dining room table?"

Billy's mom loved to collect those goddamn things. Neil smashed them all when she ran away and killed herself.

He nods, relishing the weight of Steve's fingertips.

Steve fiddles with the hole in Billy's jeans. "What kind of food did you have?"

"Pizza," Billy says.

Steve blinks at him, lost. "That's not very Coca-Cola of the Hargrove's."

"My mom didn't like to cook."

"Funny," Steve says, combing through the tussle of hair on Billy's kneecap, "Mine doesn't either."

Billy aches to knit their fingers together until they meld, forming the kind of sweater you dig out from the back of your closet year after year, echoing on the stiff frigid breeze until it's tattered and falling apart.

Steve looks at him, smiling. "Do you want some pie?"

--

Steve guts and skins the freezer until it's empty. A carcass picked clean.

Mrs. Harrington must have spent her entire bonus at Melvalds on Christmas dinner, enough to feed four Steve Harrington's and all the people who are desperately in love with him.

Billy tries not to think about them and watches from the counter face, his sock feet thumping gently against the cabinet as Steve pulls dish after dish from a cloud of white exhaust, plopping containers onto the island. "Green bean casserole," Steve says, "Pumpkin pie, pecan, apple, blueberry--"

"--You're supposed to eat all of this?"

"You're gonna help me."

"I don't like green bean casserole," Billy says, yelping when Steve feigns death and collapses into the counter. "Jesus Christ--"

"I'm midwestern, that's a cardinal sin to me."

"Dope makes you dramatic, pretty boy."

"You hate midwestern people."

"Yeah," Billy says, giggling.

"You hate me."

"Shut up," Billy slips off the counter and onto his feet, examining every frozen item while Steve repacks.

"Which pie sounds good?"

"I dunno," Billy says, eyeing the blueberry with suspicion, "Don't we have to wait for them to thaw before we throw them in the oven?"

"I don't think so," Steve says, "I've already tried the cherry and that baked fine."

"I've never had it before."

Steve blinks at him, shocked. "How have you never had cherry pie?"

"My dad doesn't like cherries," Billy admits.

"Just because your dad doesn't like cherries--"

"--Look, my mom wasn't on great terms with the oven, and nobody else is going to waste time cooking shit my dad won't eat," Billy snaps. Feeling red-hot all of a sudden. Angry in a way he hasn't been in a long time for being reminded that other people's dads are shitty in the normal way.

Not like Neil.

Steve either doesn't notice or chooses not to take it personally.

He opens the refrigerator and pulls out a half-eaten cherry pie, picking at its cling-wrap until Billy can see the cherries where the glitter between layers of perfectly brown crust. Bloody little eyes staring up at him like dead fish.

"You can have the rest."

"The rest?" Billy demands, "But what if I don't like it?"

"Not possible," Steve tells him. He opens the microwave and attempts to shove the pie tray in, yelping when Billy snatches it out of thin air. "What--"

"--Aluminum will catch fire in the microwave." Billy snaps. He tries to find it annoying, but Steve just blinks those big, soft eyes at him and the anger washes away. "Get me a plate, bambi boy," He says.

Steve watches Billy plate the pie, giggling as his nose wrinkles in disgust over its dripping red innards. "This is so gross," Billy says.

"You won't think so, once you try it."

Billy walks it to the microwave, carefully pinching the edges of the plate between his palms. "I can't think of a single other instance where that has been true."

He turns the dial. Forty seconds.

Steve's watching him, face illuminated in the golden hum of the microwave.

"What?" Billy demands.

"Nothing," Steve says, leaning against the counter top, "I just can't believe I'm gonna be here when your life is changed forever."

Billy snorts, stalking to the drawer where the Harringtons keep their silver. "Still dramatic, pretty boy."

"Why do you always say that?" Steve wonders.

Billy freezes in place. Two forks in hand. He peers across the island at Steve, heart thrumming loudly. "Why do I always say what?"

"Pretty boy," Steve clarifies.

It hangs between them. The microwave hums, the longest forty seconds of Billy's life. "I," He says intelligently, "It's just. True."

"What is?"

"You're. Pretty," Billy says. And it's like having teeth pulled.

The microwave beeps.

Steve turns away, yanking the pie from its incubation, "Shit," He says, wiggling his fingers. "Plate's hot as hell."

Billy stands there watching him. Breathing. Dying.

Steve looks at him. "Well, do you wanna try it?" Billy nods. Doesn't move. Steve laughs at him. "Come here."

Billy goes easily, like a lap dog being called to perch. He and his forks stare down at the pie with caution, stomach churning at the congealed mess before him.

Steve grabs one of the forks from Billy and cuts the point off, blowing on it until its warm enough to eat. Steve pops it into his mouth, brown eyes falling closed. "Mmmm," He says, like someone would with a spooked and disgusted baby, "It's good."

Billy shakes his head.

"You're so dramatic," Steve says, cutting another huge chunk for Billy. He holds it in the air between them, eyebrows raised. "Trust me."

Billy stares at it. "Why's mine so big?"

"I want you to get the full range of flavor."

"But--"

Steve shoves the fork into Billy's mouth, swiftly depositing the little cherry eyeballs onto Billy's tongue. He coughs and sputters, lips curling around the fork as Steve yanks it away. "Chew," Steve says.

Billy does.

Like it's the first time he's ever done it, clumsy and a little rushed and very, very distracted by the way Steve's watching him.

"Swallow," Steve says softly, barely there.

Billy does. There's something on his face. On his lips.

"What do you think?" Steve asks, staring at them.

Billy resists the urge to lick it away, "Sucked," He says, expecting Steve to laugh, but.

Something rests between them, not growing or stretching or changing shape, but it's there. It suffocates.

Steve looks at him, somehow closer than he was before. "Sorry, pretty boy," He says.

Billy's heart stops. "Why would you say that?"

"It's true. You're pretty," Steve says, watching the red on Billy's lips burn brighter. "You've got a little something on your face." Billy lifts a hand, mouth falling open when Steve grabs his wrist. "Can I," Steve says, soft as summer rain, "Can I kiss you, Billy?"

Billy doesn't move as Steve licks into his mouth, Cherry washing away under the rough, sweet drag of intention.

--

THIS IS PART ONE!!!! OF A TWO-PARTER!

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I get around to part two <3

[tkachuktkaching]

Some of the Matthew Quotes from his recent Interview

Fresh off eliminating the Tampa Bay Lightning in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs, Panthers forward Matthew Tkachuk joined The Pat McAfee Show on ESPN to talk all things puck on Wednesday.

Still in amazement of Tkachuk’s toughness to play with a broken sternum during last year’s Stanley Cup Final, McAfee and his energetic band of co-hosts started the show talking about playing through pain.

“In the Stanley Cup Playoffs all bets are off and you do whatever you can to play,”

“He was fired up to see us beat Tampa the other day,” (talking of his dad)

“Growing up having him as a voice, as a role model, my brother and I were not forced to play hockey, but we had everything around us to help us grow into it and love the game. We had him around every day to ask about anything, help coach us, teach us, but I’d say the biggest thing that allowed my brother and I to make it to this level was each other. Having that unbelievably close relationship, being each other’s best friends, biggest supporters, and competitors as well.”

“One thing that I’m super grateful that my parents did, and my mom deserves so much credit because she was mainly the one getting up at 5 a.m. to take us to the 6 a.m. practices while my dad was on the road, was that we were never allowed to play hockey 24/7, 365 days like some of these kids do now,” said Tkachuk. “My parents were all about playing every sport you can. I think that’s what allowed me to not get burnt out and my love for the game kept growing and growing more.”

“Don’t touch Bob and there won’t be any problems,” When asked about Tampa Bay and the two goalie interference calls against the Lightning in Game 5.

“We are really excited to get a few days of rest and get rejuvenated, but it’s the playoffs and you just want to be out there playing,”

“Some of the best parts of playoffs are just hanging out with the boys in the lounges on the road and watching other games throughout the league.”

With three first-round matchups still ongoing, Tkachuk spoke on how hard it is to close things out.

“The fourth game in a playoff series is always the hardest to win because no matter what you are in the series, the other team is so desperate playing for their lives you have to find a way to match that or exceed that,” said Tkachuk.

Something that can help with closing out a series is playing in front of a home crowd.

“It’s a tough question because last year in playoffs are team was lights out on the road and it didn’t matter where we played,”

“When playing in Florida, we have such great fans and the building is so loud, I think home ice is important for us, having the extra potential game seven at home, you always want to have that at home. I think our fans are so loud and we’ve made this rink here in Florida a tough place to play, so I think home ice is important for our team, it’s an extra layer you can add to the series. I think we have great fans, so it’s important for us.”

Among the recent sellout crowds at Amerant Bank Arena, Miami Dolphins Jalen Ramsey and Jaylen Waddle have come out to support and hype up the crowd with the banging of the pre-game drum.

Knowing Waddle was there, Tkachuk told the show he was planning on a big goal celebration in salute of the fellow local superstar.

“If I scored I was going to do the ‘Waddle’ because he was there,” said Tkachuk. “He’s my favorite football player.”

While it didn’t happen that game, McAfee called for Tkachuk to bring in the dance celebration next time he lights the lamp.

[jebewonmorelike]

Young and Rich, Tall and Just Ask Me Out Already

wc: 2.1k pronouns: n/a; none used warnings: none really? maybe the tiniest bit of angst... fluff... and i used the word d*ck once, my bad also you can pretend they're in college or high school, doesn't really matter summary: prepschool!ricky/richboy!ricky just can't get scholarshipkid!reader to go out with him no matter how many helicopters he lands in the school courtyard ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys... whoah... rich-boy-with-a-soft-side ricky just kind of hits different? i must say i outdid myself with this one so please, please, please enjoy :)

Ricky has been trying to convince you to go on a date with him for two weeks now.

The first time he asked you was after Chemistry one afternoon. You had been assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the semester and shared a desk during class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1:10 to 2:40 P.M.

At first, you'd found it kind of difficult to relate to Ricky. His dad was a CEO at some big tech company and he didn't really let anyone forget it. Always flaunting his designer watch with the newest phone model in hand, entire classes full of students couldn't help but fall for him as he draped his Louis Vuitton jacket casually over one shoulder.

But you were just "the scholarship kid". A humble upbringing and a borderline genius IQ, attending this prep academy was an opportunity you and your family could never have turned down.

Working on labs with Ricky wasn't difficult-- mainly because he let you do all the work while he listened to music and played on his phone. But if you were being honest, you didn't really mind. You enjoyed working on the labs at your own (fast) pace and you didn't have to worry about a lab partner messing up your data.

You never disliked Ricky. But you also could never really figure out what to say to him when he talked so expensive and acted so expensive...

And looked so expensive.

But after a few weeks of silent lab work together (and a handful of flunked quizzes returned to Ricky's desk), the tall blonde suddenly turned to you with his latest graded test in hand.

"What did you get?" He asked, eyes peering over to try to get a glimpse at your paper.

"Oh, um..." You placed it flat on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise. "105? Again!?"

"What do you mean 'again'? How do you know that?" You questioned, looking back at him suspiciously.

He completely ignored your question. "There wasn't even a bonus question on this one! Where did the extra points come from?"

"The mini-essay I submitted last night on chemical kinetics."

He stared at you for a moment. "You're kind of weird, you know that?"

You nodded. "I guess you would think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you want me to help you or not? I would think calling me weird wouldn't really help persuade me," you quipped, snatching his test from his hand and reading the grade circled in red pen: 63.

"Hey! Don't--," he protested, trying to steal the paper back to no avail as you slid it into your bag and zipped it closed. "I didn't even ask you for help yet."

"You were obviously going to. You've barely said one word to me in four weeks, so. I'm pretty sure you weren't just making friendly conversation."

Ricky blinked back at you silently for a moment. "It's not like you've said anything to me either."

"I'll look over your test to see what you need to improve on. Do you have the rest of the quizzes from this month with you?" You asked quickly, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder as the bell rang.

"Uh, no I don't," he admitted, not making any move to get up now that class had ended.

"Okay, well--."

"But I'll bring them tonight. To the library," he interrupted.

You stood there silently, not really sure what to say.

"Be there at 9," he said definitively, a grin suddenly spreading across his face as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and started walking towards the door.

"You--... Do you think I don't have a life or something? I... What if I had plans!?"

"You did not have plans," he said with a laugh. Just before he walked out the door, he turned over his shoulder to add, "But now you do. With me."

~

It was like that, how you started tutoring Ricky late nights at the library. You met after 9 P.M. the days that you had class together, going over the material you'd covered that afternoon. He was a surprisingly passable student and you started to wonder if failing his classes was somehow intentional. He started offering to help you with lab work as the weeks went on, messing up detrimentally only a handful of times but you did appreciate his effort if nothing else.

Your tutoring was definitely helping; Ricky's quizzes came back now with passing grades that had even once reached the height of a 91. But what you didn't want Ricky to know was that he was helping you, too.

He had been right that day: you hadn't had any plans that night. And you rarely did. It was hard to fit in with the other students at your school when they had all led such different lives than you. You could have never guessed in a million years that Ricky would eventually become something like your friend.

Ricky made you laugh. He sharpened your pencils for you. He brought you snacks you liked. He'd let you borrow his Nintendo Switch for the day, as long as you promised to give it back to him in class. You hated to admit it, but a few weeks into your tutoring sessions and there was much less studying going on than was originally intended.

And another thing you hated (not really) to admit: you liked Ricky.

Sure, he could be a little overconfident. A little braggadocios. A little too reliant on his daddy's money.

But late at night in the library, you both grew tired together and the sleep deprivation gave way to a much more vulnerable Ricky. He'd tell you about his family, his childhood, his favorite things, his troubles, his dreams... and he'd listen carefully to you when you shared yours, too.

One time, after sharing a surprisingly upsetting childhood memory involving his father, you could see Ricky's eyes start to water. He tried to brush it off, adjusting his watch as the walls of the persona began to build back up in defense. But before you could stop yourself, your hand had reached across the table and landed on top of his.

He stared at it for awhile before looking up to meet your eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, swallowing with uncertainty.

You removed your hand and placed it back in your lap. "Sorry," you replied awkwardly.

"No, no, you're cute," he said quickly, a hand flying to cover his mouth when he saw the expression on your face and realized what he had said. "I--I--... I meant 'cool'. Like... Like I meant to say 'you're cool', as in, like, 'don't worry about it'."

His babbling just made you smile. "Freudian slip?"

"Exactly," he agreed hastily. "Wait, no!"

"Too late, no take backs," you blurt, flipping your textbook to the next page to continue with your notes. Your heart absolutely raced inside your chest when you heard Ricky lightly breathe out a laugh before following your lead and resuming his note-taking.

~

Ricky certainly had a public image he wanted to portray, but whenever he gave you a glimpse underneath the facade... that was when you couldn't help but fall.

So when he asked you out for the first time, sun shining as you walked together from Chemistry to the student lounge on a Friday afternoon, your stomach absolutely flipped with excitement.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner," Ricky said, hand combing through his blonde, coiffed hair.

"Like--... Like on a date?" You clarified, looking up at him to try to read his expression. But much to your dismay, he was looking straight ahead, not at you.

"Yeah," he responded flippantly, hands finding his pockets. "There's this new place that opened downtown that's, like, mega exclusive. Figured you can't say no to that."

"No."

"Exactly... Wait, what?" Ricky stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No thanks," you repeated. Looking at him now, you could tell exactly who was standing in front of you. No matter how much you liked Ricky, you didn't want to go on a date with this persona of his.

You wanted to go on a date with Ricky.

"Oh..." He replied, shock written all over his face. He swallowed hard and you swore you could see his cheeks start to redden with embarrassment.

"I really like you, Ricky," you clarified with a smile as you watched his eyebrows shoot up at the confession. "But no thank you."

You didn't wait around to field any possible questions. Turning on your heels, you headed off in the direction of your dorm leaving Ricky absolutely dumbfounded in the campus courtyard.

The next time he asked you out, it was in the hallway before class the following Monday. He handed you a small, light blue gift box, his eyes looking everywhere except at you.

You suppressed a smile, opening the box to find a dainty, rose gold bangle with the signature Tiffany T-shaped cuff ends. After having a mini heart attack over how much the bracelet in your hands must've cost, you took a deep breath to maintain your composure.

"I can't accept this," you managed, though you had to admit you were a bit sad to refuse it (and to refuse him a second time).

Ricky stared back at you, absolutely astonished. "Why... Why not?"

"I really like you, Ricky," you confessed again. "But I'll have to say no thank you."

As your professor called for everyone to take their seats, you hurried inside the classroom and left Ricky to trail in behind you completely stunned once more.

~

Ricky has asked you out about eight more times since that day. Each time, the simple question is skirted around and instead replaced with more and more elaborate and expensive gestures.

Now, it's 9:30 on a Friday night and you're typing away on your laptop, working on a paper that isn't due until the end of the semester when Ricky bursts through the doors of the library and darts straight towards your usual table.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He blurts out, catching his breath as he stands in front of you waiting for an answer. His hair falls boyishly across his forehead and he's dressed in a a hoodie and black joggers. You get the impression he had rushed here suddenly without any preparation and he looks so stupid cute.

"No," you reply, chewing on your cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Are you interested in men?"

"Unfortunately."

"You keep saying you like me and then you refuse to go out with me. Do you like me?" He asks, a little too loud for a library, but you're both lucky there's no one else that would be studying on a Friday night.

"I do," you confirm, watching as his eyes grow a bit more pleading as he wrestles with his own confusion.

"Then... Please... Will you please go out with me? I like spending time with you so much. I like talking to you so much. I really, really like you, (Y/N). Will you please just give me a chance?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Yeah, I get it, I get--." Ricky's eyes suddenly light up as he realizes what you said. "REALLY?"

You nod, biting your lip in a satisfied smile and throwing your laptop into your backpack. "Let's go right now!"

He blinks quickly, following you as you stand up and walk towards the door. "Right now? But you--."

"Ricky, I don't really have any time to waste. I've been waiting for you to ask me out for two weeks now! Can you blame me for being a bit eager?"

"What... what do you mean? I've asked you out, like, a dozen times," he says as you step outside into the cool evening air, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

You smile up at him. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I--," he starts to protest, but you cut him off.

"You've told me you're taking me to an exclusive restaurant. You've bought me designer jewelry. You've given me an autographed poster from WayV. You've hired the Vienna Philharmonic to play at the student lounge. You've landed a helicopter in the middle of the courtyard..."

You watch as realization begins to wash over his face. His mouth hangs open a bit as he processes his numerous missteps. Then, a hand finds its way to the back of his neck as he smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh."

"So I've been waiting very patiently, you see."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he says with a smile, and then more solemnly he adds, "And I'm really sorry for being a total dick."

"Well, you're in luck. The only way to make it up to me is to get late night pancakes with me. And it just so happens, that I am incredibly hungry right now," you say, taking his hand and starting to pull him in the direction of the parking lot.

Ricky laces your fingers together as he falls in step with you. "Oh! I know the best place for pancakes, it's--."

You clear your throat and he stops his thought in its tracks.

"The diner?" He asks, looking to you for approval.

You nod, giggling back at him. "The diner."

[stellarspecter]

stwg daily prompt 4/10/24: guitar

1.8k, steddie, modern au, guitar teacher eddie/guitar student steve (+ dustin as steve's brother)

so this is literally just me giving eddie my exact job and letting the plot bunnies do as they may. will be up on ao3 in a day or two once i've had time to look it over and think of a title but here it is! divider graphic by @saradika-graphics

“Let’s try that verse again, okay? 5, 6, 7, 8…” 

The little girl in front of Eddie plays with the utmost concentration, her little brow scrunched up as she tries to switch to a D chord. 

“It’s our little triangle, remember? On the — good, exactly,” Eddie nods and keeps strumming. “And to C, slide down to the first fret… 1, 2, 3, to E minor, yep, 1, 2, 3, 4.” The last notes fade into the slightly stale air of the practice room. “Good job! You did a lot better with your chord transitions this time. We’re about out of time for today, but try and practice that verse and chorus at home, okay? And then we’ll see about that bridge next week,” he tells her.

She nods with a big gummy smile. “Okay!” Eddie helps her put her guitar back in its case and walks her back out to the little waiting area they have behind the lessons desk. It’s honestly a little cramped, but before they hired him, he hadn’t even known that Guitar Center offered lessons at all, so it makes sense. He sends the girl off with her parents and a promise to practice every day before he slides behind the desk to check his schedule for his next student.

Usually he has a half hour gap on Wednesdays that he uses to practice for his band or chat with his coworkers, but today there’s a new name on the schedule: Steve Harrington.

“Huh,” he mutters. His manager hadn’t mentioned any new sign-ups to him. Maybe it was from online? With a shrug, he settles in to wait for the guy to show up. It’s 5:57, so he’s still got a few minutes.

After a minute or two of dicking around on his phone, someone calls out, “Hey, Eddie!”

He looks up to find his 6:30 student standing in front of him, an excitable kid named Dustin Henderson. He’s fun to chat with, and Eddie looks forward to his lessons — especially since it’s an opportunity to get yet another young mind hooked on metal. Sure, he’ll play and teach whatever is required, but he’ll never forget his one true love.

“Henderson,” Eddie responds, standing up and leaning against the pillar bracketing the desk. “You know your lesson is in half an hour, right?”

“I know!” He replies, chipper as ever. “I’m after him!” He jerks a thumb back behind him, and Eddie finally notices the most beautiful man he’s ever seen standing behind Dustin.

Dear god. If this is his new student, he’s absolutely fucked.

“Hi,” the man says, extending a hand when it becomes clear Eddie is incapable of forming words. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie forces himself to act normal and grabs his hand, shooting him a smile that he hopes comes off as confident. “Eddie,” he replies. “Munson. I play guitar.”

“I’d sure hope so,” Steve jokes, eyes dancing, and Eddie is fuuuuucked. Completely and absolutely. How is he going to be able to be alone with him in a tiny practice room for a whole half hour? 

“Well, you’re in luck,” Eddie says, kind of operating on autopilot while his brain reboots. “It’s. Guitar Center.” He mentally facepalms and claps his hands together, spinning and walking them back towards the practice rooms. “So, Steve, what brings you here on this fine day? Are you Dustin’s… dad?”

Usually, his mom is the one to drive him and wait in the lobby, but it’s not out of the question that Steve could be his stepdad or something, with their different surnames. He seems around Eddie’s age, but maybe he’s just into milfs or something? 

He can’t be single. The universe is never that kind to Eddie.

Dustin bursts out laughing. “My dad? Dude, he’d had to have had me at like, twelve!”

Eddie flushes. “Well, I don’t know!”

“He’s my brother.” Steve swoops in and saves him from embarrassment. “The Hendersons took me in when I was sixteen, that’s why we have different last names.”

Eddie nods. “Oh, cool. So I assume Dustin got you to take lessons too?”

Steve laughs a little, just when Eddie thought he could finally cope with his unearthly beauty, the dick. “Yeah, he’s dead set on us starting a family band or something. I told him I could just dust off my piano skills, but he insisted. Little twerp.” He goes to ruffle his brother’s hair, and Dustin expertly ducks — clearly a common occurrence in their household.

“Cool,” Eddie says again. “Well, you ready to get started?” 

Steve nods, and Dustin goes to look around the store and mess with the DJ equipment. 

“So, you said you played piano? How long ago was that?” Eddie asks as he ushers him into the practice room.

“Oh, years and years. My parents made me take lessons when I was a kid, stopped in middle school, so it’d have to be… ten years or something now? Eleven? Jesus, I’m getting old,” Steve answers.

Eddie laughs. “Oh, trust me, I get it. Every time I say I’ve been playing guitar for over a decade a little part of me dies.” They share a laugh as they both get situated on their matching stools and guitars on their laps. “So that’s a little bit about me, that I’ve been playing for over a decade. I didn’t go to school for music or anything, but I’m in a metal band in my free time, and I like to think I have a pretty good understanding of music theory and techniques after all this time, so don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” It’s easier than he’d expected to slip into his practiced first lesson spiel, but he’s still hyper-focused on Steve’s reactions, taking in every hint of a smile. “I’m actually self-taught, so I learned basically by just watching YouTube tutorials and spending a lot of time on Ultimate Guitar,” Eddie explains with a wry smile. 

“That’s really cool,” Steve says, impressed. “I could never do that.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” It’s a familiar back and forth to Eddie. Maybe he can do this. “I like to run my lessons the same way — instead of learning some random two-measure exercises from a book, we learn songs that you want to learn, and through that we can learn some new chords and strumming patterns and techniques. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” Steve says. “That was always the worst part of piano lessons. The music was so boring.” His nose wrinkles in distaste.

“Awesome,” Eddie says, and pulls out his phone, already open to his notes app. “So, what kind of music do you want to learn?”

“Uh.” Steve pauses. “I, uh, I listen to a lot of, um, pop? And, like, indie? Kind of just top forty radio type stuff.” 

Eddie nods as he writes that down. “Cool, cool. Any artists or songs in particular? Or just pop as a whole?”

“I dunno,” Steve admits. “I like most of the popular stuff. Oh, there’s this one artist my friend has been getting me into — Chappell Roan?”

“Nice,” Eddie responds, somehow managing to keep from jumping with joy that he might actually have a chance with this guy if he listens to gay people music. 

“You don’t… mind?” Steve asks hesitantly. Eddie looks up at him, confused. “I just mean, you don’t exactly look like you would love all that girly pop music.” He waves a hand at Eddie’s Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, and patch-covered vest. 

Eddie shrugs. “Well, maybe, but it’s my job. You wouldn’t believe the amount of Swifties I’ve got, I couldn’t avoid it if I wanted to. And I mean, it is pretty catchy,” he concedes, if only to see Steve smile again. “And,” he continues, “even better, really easy to play.”

“Oh, good,” Steve laughs.

Eddie pockets his phone and reaches for his folder, taking out a sheet of empty chord diagrams. “So usually for a first lesson, we just learn a few basic chords, and then get started with our first full song next week, sound good?”

Steve nods. “Yep.”

“Great.” Eddie sets the sheet on the stand in front of them and pencils in two little dots on the first diagram. “Here’s our first chord. This is called an E minor. You wanna put your first finger on the second string…”

He goes on to teach Steve an E minor chord, then a C chord, then a G chord, and by the time they’re done learning D, Eddie thinks that Steve’s fingers are going to haunt his dreams. He’s not mad about it. Just sad that he won’t be able to see them in person again for a whole week.

They make their way through the lesson, stumbling from one chord to another, but by the end of the thirty minutes, Steve is already doing pretty well with his chord transitions. Eddie’s honestly impressed. He drops him off in the lobby and exchanges him for Dustin, who is bouncing up and down with excitement.

“How was he,” he bursts out as soon as the door is closed.

Eddie snorts. “He was good. Just learned a few chords.”

Dustin waits expectantly. “And?”

“And what?”

“And how was he! Like, was he excited? Did you have a good time? Are you guys gonna be friends now?” 

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly and takes a seat. Technically, he’s not supposed to be actual friends with students, or even talk with them outside of work, but with Dustin and now Steve, they don’t feel like paying customers so much as friends he’s doing a favor for. “He was good. I’m sure he’ll tell you in the car on the way home.”

Dustin groans. “Come on.”

“You come on. You better have been practicing, show me what you’ve been doing.”

With that, Dustin drags himself to his seat, and the lesson goes great from there, both of them distracted from Steve by the intricacies of Stairway to Heaven.

When he brings Dustin out, he’s almost taken off guard by Steve waiting for them. In just half an hour, he’d already forgotten his stunning resemblance to a Greek god. It’s honestly unfair for his memory to do that to him. 

“Hey,” Steve greets them. “Had a good lesson?”

“Obviously,” Dustin scoffs.

“He did great today,” Eddie tells him, “And so did you. Just remember to practice, alright? Gotta build that muscle memory.”

Dustin rolls his eyes, too used to hearing it, but Steve nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, of course. See you next week?”

It’s a simple phrase. He says it every day. It’s a contractual obligation that yes, he will see them next week. But when Steve says it, it feels like a promise. Eddie can’t wait to fulfill it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, mesmerized by the way the fluorescent lights bring out the green in Steve’s eyes. “See you next week.”

Steve smiles and turns to leave, picking his way through the aisles of musical miscellany. Eddie can already hear Dustin interrogating him about his lesson. He leans back against the wall with only one thought in his mind: only seven days until he gets to see Steve Harrington again. 

He’ll be counting every single one.

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 9

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.9k

Chapter 8 | Masterlist

I eventually fell back asleep on the couch before waking up and making breakfast. I changed out of my pajamas and into some yoga pants Kelly convinced me to buy and a soft shirt. I attempted to watch a movie, but without glasses or contacts I couldn’t see clearly. I had to stand smack in front of the tv to see and it was annoying so I gave up. Once the movies were over I got bored and the thoughts crept in. What if my dad knew and confronted Jake at work? What if something happens to his jet and he crashes? What if I didn’t cut the stove off and catch the house on fire? At that thought I jumped up, going into the kitchen and making sure I did in fact, cut the oven off. I sighed in relief when I did and walked away, but suddenly stopped, turning back around and looking again because I forgot what I just saw. I huffed, turning back into the living room. I tapped my foot, and looked at my phone seeing it was only noon. I huffed, laying my head back. You’re nothing without us. My mother’s voice echoed in my brain. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing it to go away. I decided to distract myself by looking for eye doctors in the area. I looked through reviews finding a handful that I would consider until I finally found one. I stared at the number, it practically glared at me. Maybe I could have Jake call? God no. I need to do this myself. I’m a grown woman, I can do this myself. I dialed the number and it rang twice before a friendly voice answered. “How can I help you?” She asked. “Hi um… my name is Katie Blair and I need to make an appointment.” I heard typing on the other end and she hummed. “Have you been with us before?” I shook my head. “No.” More typing. “Okay, the next opening we have is Wednesday at four-thirty.” I nodded. “That works.” I agreed. “Great. We’ll see you Wednesday. Have a nice day.” She said and hung up. Once that was done, my mothers voice crept back into my head. You’re an ungrateful little shit. You’ll die out there on your own. You’re hard to love. Tears welled in my eyes and I grabbed my phone, pulling up Bradley’s number. 

Can we talk when your free?

I text him, hoping he would respond eventually. I laid back on the couch, taking deep breaths and trying to clear my mind. Eventually my breathing evened out and I slipped into unconsciousness. “Darlin’.” I jumped awake, startled by the voice and the hand on my arm. “Hm.” I sat up as Jake sat next to me. “How long have you been asleep?” He asked and I glanced at the clock. “Shit. Four hours.” I said, face planting the soft couch. He chuckled, rubbing my back. “Must’ve been tired.” He said and I scoffed. “Something like that.” I said. “Well, I’m gonna go shower. I’m thinking steak for dinner? I put some in the fridge to thaw this morning.” He said as he got up, heading to his room to shower. “I can start it." I said as I sat up. "You sure?" He called down the stairs as I nodded, stretching. "Yeah." He's letting me live here rent free, the least I can do is make him dinner. I went into the kitchen, pulling out the steaks, then rifling through his freezer for sides. I found some asparagus and some potatoes in the pantry. I was halfway through cooking the steaks when he came in, shirtless. He didn't notice but it took me a second to avert my eyes. "Is it just us tonight?" I asked and he hummed. "Yeah, Kelly is working late tonight." I nodded as I finished the steaks, letting them rest as I tossed the asparagus into the same pan with some garlic. 

"Damn that smells good." He said, coming to stand next to me. I smiled, practically keeping over the compliment. "My mom wasn't completely useless." I remarked and he laughed. "Guess not. Anything I can do?" He asked. "You can go ahead and cut the potatoes open. Give them a chance to cool a little before I burn the shit out of my fingers." He just chuckled and sliced them open. Soon dinner was done and I made him go sit down. "I can make my own plate." He said. "I can make my own plate." I mimicked. "No shit. But I'll bring it to you." I said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not winning this one Jake. Go sit down." I said with a more stern tone and after a second he did as I asked. I smirked, plating everything and walking it out. "See. Not that hard." I remarked and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah." I waited patiently with a smirk on my face as he took the first bite and his eyes went wide. "You're telling me that we ate out the past two nights and you can cook like this?" I laughed as he ate more. "And it's even medium rare! How did you know?" I shrugged. "It's the only way my parents eat it, so it's the only way I know how to cook it." I said, starting in on my food. "Yours medium rare too?" I nodded. "That's the only way I've ever eaten it. Mom would make steak and she refused to cook it differently for me."

Dinner was great and we talked about our day, but once we were done the mood changed. "I have something to tell you, but I need you to not freak out." He said, sitting up in his chair. My heart started racing a million miles a second. What could he possibly have to say? "We overheard your dad talking to Cyclone." Why would he be talking to Admiral Simpson? He doesn't like him. "He's going around asking everyone to keep an eye out for you. Apparently when they came home and saw that you were gone, they called the police and tried to say that you were kidnapped." My chest started heaving and I was trying to calm down. But now not only were the police looking for me, so was practically everyone on base. "Oh my god." I said as tears built in my eyes. "Hey, no darlin'." Jake said as he took my hand, squeezing it in his. "The police say you probably just left. You packed a bag and took your purse, so they think you just walked out of there. They aren't looking for you." I sighed in relief, feeling better about that. "But you should lay low for a while. If anyone from base sees you, then your dad will know." I nodded, taking deep breaths. "I can do that. I can lay low." I muttered. "Good. I'll clean the kitchen." He said, grabbing my plate and standing. "I can help Jake." I said as I stood. "You cooked, I'll clean. Go do something." He joked and I huffed but did as he said. I went up to my room to plug my phone in, setting it on the small white bedside table. But something light blue caught my attention. It was in my suitcase, wadded up at the very bottom. I grabbed it, feeling the soft material in my hands but even in the dark I knew what this was. My favorite Tiffany blue dress, and the one Blake ripped. I could still see the droplets of blood that fell on it.

Do you have any idea how this makes us look?

Sometimes giving people what they want makes life a lot easier.

The words flooded my brain, remembering every moment of that night. Including the way his hands felt on me, the way they practically slithered under my dress. I felt disgusted with myself. I should've done more than punch him and I should've walked out of that house no matter what. But I couldn't. I was a coward and I fell right back into their trap like an idiot. Tears filled my eyes as anger grew within me like a fire being fed oxygen. The rip in the dress reminding me just how close I came to having my own choices ripped away from me. I turned rushing down the stairs, stomping on the way down. Hard enough I probably shook the house. "Katie?" Jake asked from behind the couch. I attempted to blow past him, but he caught my arm and I stopped. "Jake. Let me go." I said calmly, trying not to have a breakdown. I was so tired of crying, I wanted to be done with my emotions. "Darlin', let me see it." I shook my head. I couldn't let him see it, he'd absolutely lose it. "No. Just let me throw it away." He shook his head. "Trash wouldn't have you this upset." We stood in silence for a moment, me not looking at him, when he suddenly yanked me towards him and he snatched the dress from my hands. "Jake!" I yelled and he held the dress up, furrowing his brows in confusion. “What is this?” He asked, he looked close at the blood stains, his jaw clicking in anger. “Is this yours?” He asked lowly. I shook my head. “No, it’s Blake’s.” He looked at me for a second. “When you broke his nose.” He said in realization. “But the rip…” 

“That was when I managed to get out from under him and he grabbed the neck line. It ripped when I got out of his truck.” I muttered. “What?” His eyes flashed to me and I could tell he was angry. I opened my mouth to respond but he stopped me. “What do you mean, ‘Get out from under him’?” He asked. “When my dad forced me on that date, he stopped just before taking me home. He stuck his hand under my dress and I smacked it away. He said that Coop told him I could be difficult and then he yanked me down in the seat and-” I took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling to keep the tears at bay. “He pushed my dress up…” I was trying not to sob and took another deep breath and suddenly my face was grabbed. This was different from any other time my face was grabbed. Jake’s hands were gentle as he held my face, making me look at him. “Did he hurt you?” I wanted to shake my head no, but he kind of did. “Sort of.” He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, sort of?” He growled. “When he grabbed my leg, he left some bruises.” I muttered, not meeting his eye. “So he didn’t force you into anything?” He asked. “No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t give him the chance.” I saw his lips twitch, as if he wanted to smile but he didn’t. “Can I please throw the dress away?” He looked at the dress in his hand and smiled. “I have a better idea.”

So he dragged me outside and off the back deck to a small fire pit in the yard. He handed me the dress and started up the fire. Once it was roaring he stepped back, looking over at me. “Ready?” He asked and I nodded, looking down at the dress in my hands. I took a step closer, stopping just in front of the fire before tossing it in. I watched as it went up in flames, burning away until it started turning to ash. Jake’s arm went around my shoulder, tucking me into his side. “How you feel, darlin’?” He asked and I took a deep breath. “A little better. But it’s gonna take some time.” He hummed, catching me off guard as he once again kissed my head. “Take all the time you need, darlin’.” We stood in silence until a thought crossed my mind. “Fuck.” I muttered and Jake looked down at me again. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “There are some pictures on my old phone that I need. If I access my old iCloud do you think my parents could get my new number or track me?” I asked and he shrugged. “You have a new email and everything so personally I’d delete the old one. One less thing your parents have to track you down with.” I nodded and rushed upstairs, grabbing my phone. I quickly got into my old account and grabbed the pictures I needed from storage and saved it to my phone before deleting it. I was sitting in a chair not far from the fire, looking at the pictures when I felt a presence behind me. I looked up to see Jake looking at my phone. “Is this after?” I nodded, allowing him to see the pictures. “I took them, just in case. I didn’t think about it when I left my phone at my parents.” He hummed, swiping over one. The bruises on my thigh glared at me. They weren’t bad but they were noticeably finger shaped. 

Jake inhaled deeply before disappearing inside. I felt bad, these pictures seemed to bother him a lot and I didn’t want anyone worrying about me. I stared into the fire, my eyes locking on to the last piece of the dress burning. The beautiful blue color turning black from the immense heat, but I was brought out of my thoughts by something cold and wet. I looked over to see Jake offering me a bottle. I took it with furrowed brows, looking at the label. “Decided I needed one, so I thought I’d offer you one too.” He said as he pulled the other chair closer to me, sitting back in it as we watched the fire. He twisted the cap off, and set it on the arm of his chair, taking a sip. I looked down at my own bottle, attempting to twist the cap off but to no avail. “Oh, sorry.” He said taking the bottle from me. Irritation built in me at the action. I could’ve done it if he gave me another chance. “Kelly always needs me to take hers off. Didn’t think about you possibly needing it too.” I huffed. “I almost had it.” I muttered. His head snapped to me and his brows furrowed. “You okay?” Don’t let him know you’re mad, it never ends well. I looked at him with a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” I asked and he leaned back in his chair again. “You just sounded mad.” I shook my head. “Oh, no I’m good.” I took a sip of the beer immediately spitting it out. “Oh my god! How do you drink that shit?” I asked and he laughed, attempting not to spit his own beer out. “Do you not like it?” I shook my head, handing him the bottle. “God no!” He set the bottle down next to him as I attempted to get the taste out of my mouth. “Have you ever drank before?” I nodded. “A few times but it’s only ever been wine. Mom doesn't drink anything else so that’s really all I’ve ever had.” I said and he nodded. “I’ll get you some when I go to the store next time. What’s your favorite?” He asked. “Chardonnay.” He chuckled. “Fancy.” He said in a posh tone, making me laugh. 

The next day Rooster agreed to talk to me and came over once him and Jake were done for the day. I slipped on a square neck floral dress and opted for some of the white platform sandals Kelly bought for me on Sunday. It was weird to put on shoes that were flat but they were so comfortable. I grabbed my purse just as the doorbell rang and rushed downstairs. “Rooster? What are you doing here?” Jake had been home all of twenty minutes and I had been getting ready so I hadn’t even spoken to him yet. “He’s here for me.” I said as I walked over. “You?” Jake asked, looking at me and I nodded. “I asked if we could talk and he agreed.” Jake nodded, motioning Bradley in. “Oh, then come on in, I'm cooking and Kelly will be here soon.” I bit my lip, wondering how to tell him we were leaving. “Uh, Jake?” I asked and he turned to me. He looked at me with a wide smile. “It’s a private conversation.” I said, pointing out the door. “Oh, then y’all can sit out front, I don’t care. I have a porch for a reason-” “We’re leaving.” I said and he stopped again, looking at me once more. “Leaving?” I nodded. “Bradley thought it would be a good idea for me to get out of the house so we’re going for a drive.” Bradley nodded. “Figured we’d stop for dinner too.” He said with a wide grin. “But I’m cooking.” He said and I immediately felt bad. “Well… you and Kelly haven’t had much alone time since I got here!” I suggested. “We’ll probably be gone for a few hours so that’ll be good and if there’s leftovers I’ll eat them tomorrow for lunch.” I suggested. “Uh yeah. Yeah, that works. Um, Rooster? Can I talk to you for a second?” He nodded and stepped inside. “I’ll wait out here.” I said and stepped outside, closing the door. 

After a few minutes Bradley and Jake came outside. “Ready?” He asked and I nodded. “I’ll see you later.” Jake said, kissing my temple and dipping back inside. The door shut and I stared at it for a second. “You have quite the protector there.” Bradley said as we walked out to his car. “I’ve come to see that.” I said. “Oh, I love your truck.” I said as he opened the passenger door for me. “Thanks.” He helped me in and he shut the door as I buckled the seatbelt. He got into the driver's side, smiling at me. “Jake was going on and on about how I had to be careful that no one from base saw you, as if I haven’t been hearing the same things he has.” He said as he started the truck. Once we started down the road, the wind picked up and it felt nice. He had the top off, allowing the sea breeze to blow by as we drove along the coast. The sun blinded me as we drove, my hand resting on my forehead to shield them. Rooster reached into the glove box in front of me and produced a pair of raybans identical to his. “You sure?” I asked and he nodded. “They’re my spares.” I smiled, taking them from him and putting them on my face, getting instant relief. “So what’d you wanna talk about?” He asked as he pulled up to a red light. “Um…” I said, not knowing how to start. “Shit, this is harder than I thought.” He chuckled, looking at me. “Lay it on me.” He said, his smile making me feel more comfortable. “I hear my mom’s voice in my head.” 

He nodded slowly. “I do too.” I was a little shocked at his statement, looking at him from across the bench seat. “What does she say?” I asked and he smiled. “That she loves me. If I'm struggling she reminds me I can get through it.” I nodded, just wishing those were the things I heard my mother say. “What does yours say?” He asked, glancing over to me as if he already knew. “Basically that I’m a fuck up. On Sunday I thought I pissed off Kelly and I heard her voice in my head saying, ‘you probably did. you’re good at that.’.” I huffed, playing with my fingers in my lap. “Katie, I’m sorry.” He said and I shook my head. “I’m used to it.” I said and he shook his head. “But you shouldn’t be.” He was completely right. I shouldn’t be used to it, but I am. “Jake suggested therapy. He said his was mostly work related, but you have experience with personal things.” He hummed, nodding. “I do. My dad died when I was two in a training accident here at Top Gun. Mom died when I was seventeen. Brain tumor.” My heart broke for him. “I wish I could trade with you.” I said, leaning my head back against the seat. He didn’t say anything, but a part of me felt like he agreed. “When was your first time?” I asked and he was quiet for a moment. “I was six. Dad had been gone four years at that point. I got off the school bus and mom met me on the porch. She had on one of his naval academy jackets. It still smelled like him because she never washed it and when I hugged her, I had a panic attack. She decided at that point I should see a therapist.” I nodded. “Did you ever stop going?” He nodded. “Around high school. But I started again when mom died.” I nodded. “Did you know Mav is my godfather?” I looked at him wide eyed. “Really?” He nodded. “My dad was his RIO and they were best friends. Mav was there the day I was born and he was there the day mom died. We had a falling out when he pulled my papers for the naval academy.” I frowned. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to Bradley.” He chuckled. “But I wanted to, plus it’s easy to open up to you.” I smiled at him, happy he felt comfortable enough to share this with me. “I used to be so angry at the world, people around me, for things they had no control over. Being in therapy has made me a better person. I used to be hot headed and I can still be occasionally, but I’ve learned I don’t have to be mad anymore.” 

“What’s therapy like?” I asked. “A lot of talking. In my case a lot of yelling, a lot of tears but I always feel a hundred times better coming out than I did going in.” I nodded. We drove a little longer till we got to this pier and he pulled into a parking spot. “What are we doing here?” I asked. “Getting dinner.” He said with a smirk before he got out. “Oh.” I unbuckled and opened my door. “Woah.” Rooster said, coming over and helping me out. “I can do it myself.” I said and he chuckled. “I know. But my mom is probably rolling in her grave because I didn’t open your door.” He said and I giggled. “She seems great. I wish I could’ve met her.” I said as he placed his hand on my back, guiding me to the pier. “She would’ve loved you,” He said, making me blush. “I can hear her now, ‘Oh, Bradley! She’s just adorable!” I laughed at his imitation. We quietly walked over to this little shack and we stopped outside of it. “This place has the best burgers.” He said as he looked at the menu. “What do you want?” He asked and I looked at the menu. Everything looked good, but I stuck with the safe bet and got a burger and fries. The conversation was light and fun while we ate, but as I was finishing my fries it took a turn. “So, when you hear your mom in your head, what’s the most common thing she says?” He asked.  You’re so hard to love, Katie. I took a deep breath, wiping my hands on the napkin. “The night I went on that stupid date with Blake,” His hand tightened around his cup, practically squishing it. “I attempted to leave. But my mom forced me to sit down and was telling me they did the things they did because they loved me.” I scoffed at my own words. “Just after that she told me I was hard to love.” I said, my eyes falling to my lap as tears formed in my eyes. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be crying about this.” I said as I wiped my tears. Bradley got up, coming around and sitting next to me. “They’re still your parents, Katie. A part of you is always going to want their love.” I sighed shakily. “I don’t want to want it.” He sighed, pulling me into a hug. “Trust me, I wish you didn’t either.” He held me for a moment until I calmed down. “You done?” He asked and I nodded. “Come on. I got something that’ll make you feel better.” I stood and we went back up to the window and he ordered two chocolate milkshakes. “Glad I like chocolate.” I said and he laughed. “I had a feeling.” We walked back over to the bronco and he stopped, taking my milkshake. “Take your shoes off.” I furrowed my brows at him. “What?” He motioned to my shoes. “Take them off.” I knew there was no point in arguing, so I did it anyway. He handed me my milkshake and took his off before we tossed them into the bronco. "Come on." We made our way to the hill that the parking lot was perched on and he started down. I followed behind very slowly and very cautiously. "Need help?" He asked, holding out his hand for me and I lunged for it as I tripped. I grabbed it and he helped me steady myself as we continued down. "Don't let me fall." He just chuckled. "I won't." Once we were on flat ground he let go of my hand, chuckling at me. “You’re not gonna trip over your own feet are you?” I shook my head as we started walking down the beach. “It’s so nice out here.” I said as we walked along the beach. The sun was setting, there weren’t many people and the breeze was warm. “I like coming out here when I’ve had a hard day, or if I’m missing my mom.” I smiled at him. “And when you're missing your dad?” I asked and he chuckled. “I spend every day doing what he loved. I get up in that jet and I feel close to him.” It was nice knowing he had some way of feeling close to his parents.

We spent the next few hours sipping our milkshakes and walking along the beach. My parents never brought me to the beach the few times we’ve lived close to one so this was really my first experience. “So where did you grow up?” He asked and I shrugged. “Everywhere. We moved almost every year it seems like.” He nodded. “I never really got the chance to make friends, but we moved out here when I was sixteen and we’ve been here since.” He hummed. “Where were you born?” I chuckled. “Coincidentally, here. My dad was stationed here for a while and my mom went into labor with me.” I sighed. “She called it the worst twenty one hours of her life.” He scoffed. “She deserved the pain. But I’m happy you’re here.” He said, nudging me with his elbow. We made our way back up the hill and Bradley dropped the tailgate on the bronco. “Sit up here.” He said and I placed my hands on the tailgate behind me. As I jumped he grabbed my waist, making sure I got up and seated. “What are you doing?” I asked as he pulled a black bag closer to him, looting around in it. “Aha!” He said, pulling out a container of baby powder. “Baby powder?” I asked with a quirked brow. “Yep, helps get the sand off.” He sprinkled some on my legs and his before grabbing a towel and wiping them off. Once he was done there was no sand to be found on my skin. “Remind me to get some of that if I go to the beach.” I said, hopping down from the tailgate. Once he closed the tailgate, Bradley helped me into the car and shut my door before we took off down the road. It was dark now but the wind was still warm. It blew my hair around as we drove in silence, nothing but the radio on. But a few miles before we got back he turned to me. “So… gonna go to therapy?” He asked, looking over at me. “I think I’m going to try. I’m just scared.” I said and he smiled, grabbing my hand and holding it up. “You’ll be okay. It may take a few tries to find the right therapist for you, but when you do, it makes a world of difference.” Once we got to the house I noticed the lights were still on, which was odd. Jake seems strict about his sleep schedule and he should be heading upstairs by now. Kelly’s car wasn’t in the driveway so I assume she went home. Bradley helped me out, taking my hand in hopes I wouldn’t fall out. 

The bang of the front door made me jump as Jake threw the front door open. “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!” He yelled as he stormed off the porch and towards us. “Oh my god. Oh my god.” I whispered, quickly moving behind Bradley to shield myself. “I’VE BEEN PACING FOR THE PAST TWO HOURS!” He yelled and Bradley held his hands up. “Jake-” “I have tried calling and got no answer! I had no idea where the fuck she was, if she was still with you!” My hand gripped Bradley’s shirt as my heartbeat thrummed in my ears. “Hangman-” “No! Do you know how stressed I have been? I had no idea if someone saw you, if you ran into her parents-” “Hangman!” Bradley yelled and I became light headed, my adrenaline flooding my body. “She doesn’t need someone controlling her life! What she does need is someone who lets her have her freedom!” Bradley yelled back. Jake’s eyes shifted to me and immediately a look of guilt crosses his face. He sighed deeply, as if letting go of all the tension he’s felt. “Fuck.” He muttered, running his hands through his hair. “You’re right.” He said and it was like all the anger disappeared. “You can’t spend all your time worrying about her. She’s an adult.” He nodded, smiling at me. “I’ll be inside.” He said, motioning to the door before walking that way. “You okay?” Bradley asked, turning around to face me. “Yeah… he just really scared me.” He hummed. “I could tell. If your grip on my shirt was anything to go by.” he joked and a blush covered my cheeks. “Sorry.” He laughed before pulling me into a hug. “Don’t worry about it.” As if he could sense my emotions, he squeezed me tightly and immediate relief washed over me as I squeezed back. After a few seconds he let go and I felt a little better. “Something else your mom taught you?” He beamed with pride at my words. “Yeah, it’s something she did to me when I was stressed or overwhelmed.”

“Well, I’m tired so I’m gonna go in and go to bed.” I said and he nodded, yawning. “I’m gonna go crash in my bed.” He said, walking around the bronco. “Goodnight, Katie.” He smiled at me and I waved as I walked towards the porch. “Goodnight, Bradley.” I replied. He got in the bronco and started it, but waited until I was inside to leave. I triple checked that the door was locked before making my way through the dark house and into the guest room. I immediately stripped out of my clothes and grabbed some of the pajamas I packed when I left. It was a tank top and shorts combo. They were emerald green and satin and so comfortable. The little ruffles on the hem on the shorts made it cute, not that that really mattered. Once I changed I sat on my bed, pulling out some of the lotion I bought and started putting it on my legs. I thought back to Jake out in the driveway. He scared me so bad with all the yelling and when he rushed over, it was like my dad was stalking towards me and I just wanted to bolt in the other direction. Tears streaked my cheeks and my chest constricted. I sniffled, trying to stop my tears, but of course I couldn't. So I sat there on the bed, rubbing lotion in my legs as tears dripped onto the white sheets. “Katie?” Jake’s voice caught my attention as he knocked on my open door, breaking my dead stare from the chipping polish on my toes. I quickly wiped my tears, not wanting him to see me upset. “Oh, darlin’.” He said, coming over and sitting next to me on the bed. “Katie.” I didn’t want to look at him. I knew if he did I would just start crying again. “Katie. Please look at me.” He said and I didn't move. I was startled as his hand gently touched my face, turning me to face him. “Katie, darlin’. I’m sorry.” I shook my head, turning away from him. “No, it’s my fault. I should have looked at my phone and called you back.” 

“No, Katie. It wasn’t your fault. I was just so worried and when I saw you get out of the car I was so… relieved. Then I was angry at Rooster.” I furrowed my brows. “Rooster?” He nodded. “Why Rooster?” I was the one that asked if we could talk, not him. “I know you’re safe with him, I know that.” He said, flopping back onto the pillows. “But just the thought of something happening to you, and I’m not there to…protect you? It kills me.” I chuckled. “Aw, do you care about me Jake?” I joked and I felt him grip my tank top, tugging on it to catch my attention. “It’s not a joke, Katie. Of course I care. I worry about leaving you here alone, when you left the house with Rooster.” He sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “When I woke up that morning, and you were gone, it was like pure panic took over. I was ready to go over to your parents house and kick the door in.” A feeling swelled in my chest at his words as I looked back at him. Having someone who cared for me was a new feeling and it’s gonna take some getting used to. I sighed, flopping back next to him, resting my hands on my stomach. “I wish you did.” I muttered and he turned to face me as I continued to look up at the ceiling. “I was stupid to think anything would change. But they played the part of loving parents so well.” I said as anger swirled inside me. “That’s one of the first times I remember my mother hugging me. I know damn well it was the first time my father did.” I started pulling on my thumbs, wondering if I would pull one out of socket. 

“They apologized for everything. For the first time in my life they told me they loved me.” I said through gritted teeth. Jake sat up, leaning on the wooden bedframe. “Then I wake up the next morning with a lock on my door, my mother telling me i'm an awful daughter and that they could no longer handle me.” Tears filled my eyes again, but this time out of anger. “That feeling of hopelessness when I pulled and pulled on that door. I finally stopped beating on it when my hands started to bleed.” I wiped the tears, not wanting them to fall. “I begged and begged them to let me out. I leaned against that door for three days, hoping they would change their minds. I gave up on hoping it was a dream, I knew better. It didn't matter how much I begged and pleaded, all it got me was a day without food.” I felt his fingers thread through my hair, and it felt so good. “Katie.” I looked up at him through my lashes and he stared down at me in silence for a moment. “You didn’t deserve that. You know that right?” His words made my bottom lip quiver and I started to sit up when he stopped me, pulling me into him. I had never been held like this, but it was so comforting and I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his waist. “What’s so wrong with me, that they couldn’t love me?” I asked as the tears flowed freely now, soaking his t-shirt. “Nothing, darlin’. Absolutely nothing.” He said. His words soothing me until I drifted off to sleep. 

The next day when Jake got off work, he was swinging by to pick me up for my eye doctor appointment. But I was so distracted watching a show that I was running late, that being signaled by the sound of Jake’s horn on his truck. “Dammit!” I yelled, grabbing my shoes and hopping to slip one on before putting the other on at the bottom of the stairs. I rushed towards the door, purse in hand and I barely remembered to lock the door on my way out. I ran through the yard, yanking open the door and climbing in. “What’s going on? We’re gonna be late.” He said as we back out of the driveway. “I know we’re gonna be late.” I snapped, buckling and sitting back in the seat. “Gee what’s got you in a mood?” He asked and I scoffed. I wanted to snap at him again, but I thought better of it. He might just leave me on the side of the road, I joked to myself. We were silent the rest of the car ride, which was nice. I just couldn’t get it together today, which was odd for me. My hair was up in a bun with my bangs hanging loose, I didn’t put on any makeup or jewelry, not having any time. I just managed to slip on a sundress and sandals. Once we were there, I didn’t even wait for Jake. I just got out and walked up towards the door. “Katie. Katie!” He hissed and I stopped, turning to him. “Wait, let me go in first.” He said. “Why?” I asked in an irritated tone. “What if someone from base is in there?” He asked, walking in with me on his heels, ignoring his words. We went in and I pushed past him, going up to the front desk. “Katie Blair.” She immediately pulled up my info and I looked around. There was no one in the waiting room, making me feel a little better. “Hi, you must be Katie.” I looked over to see a very tall, very built man about my fathers age standing before me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, the fear settling in the pit of my stomach. “H-hi. yes… I’m Katie.” He just smiled at me as he shook his hand. “Well, if you’ll follow me.” I immediately turned to Jake, hoping he wasn’t so mad he wouldn’t come with me. “Would it be okay if my friend came with me?” I asked and Dr.Sparkman smiled.

“Of course.” We went into an exam room and I sat in the chair, Jake taking the chair beside me. We went through the usual motions of testing my eyesight, including dilating my eyes. “Well Miss Blair. It looks like from the last prescription you brought me, your eyesight has in fact gotten worse, and that goes for your astigmatism as well.” I sighed, hating that it got worse. “Do you want contacts and glasses?” I immediately shook my head. “Glasses only.” He nodded. “Very well, if you go out here we can get you set up with frames.” I grabbed my bag and Jake held my hand as we walked out, seeing as my eyes were still dilated and I felt unsteady on my feet. “Can you even see these?” He asked and I nodded. “Up close I can.” I said, grabbing a set of frames and holding them close to look at them. He chuckled as I looked around, holding each set close. I quickly noticed a pair of Kate Spade ones. They were a metal frame and the lenses were back and mostly rounded and rimless on the bottom. The stems were gold in color and the tips were black on the outside, but white on the inside with black polka dots. I looked at the price before quickly putting them away and moving on, but nothing caught my interest like they did. “See anything you like?” Jake asked from behind me, startling me. I sighed, setting another pair back on the rack. “No. I can get the prescription and order some online.” I said and he hummed, nodding. When I didn’t find anything I got my prescription, and we headed out. “Anything else you want to do while we’re out?” I smirked, rolling my head to look over at him. “Yeah, actually. Can we go to the bookstore?” He just smiled at me before busting out laughing. “Anything you want, darlin’.”

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[rrenzwrld]

secreto de amor VII

chapter 7! read chapter 6 here

“y/n~i need to talk to you.”

“you always need to talk to me. talk to your other friends.”

“don’t get smart with me. i just wanted to remind you about the business trip i’m going on. i leave next wednesday.” jean worked with a company that providing them with relaxing trips out of the country twice a year because they know how taxing the job can be.

“where you going this time?”

“it’s actually a cruise, going to the bahamas. i’ll be gone for two weeks tho, much longer than last time.”

“two weeks??” that caught your attention. you were used to jean and his trips but you’ve never been left alone for two weeks.

“i figured you don’t need a babysitter because you’re 18 but some people will swing by to check on you.”

“you tell—“

“yes i told mom and dad. they’ll come check on you and if you get scared just stay over there.”

“anything else i need to know?”

“nope, think that’s all. love you!” jean closed the door behind him. although it was only tuesday and he had about a week to prepare, it shouldn’t worry him about leaving you. he knew that you were a good kid, you don’t cause trouble , and you’re practically already independent apart from you living with him. so he didn’t know why he was feeling weird about all of this.

later on that day, you called tia to have your daily conversation and some interesting things were brought up.

“you said he said what now?”

“just reposting tweets n shit and relationships, talkin bout some ‘i’ll take my old bitch over a new bitch any day’” the dude in question was your ex you dated for two years until he cheated. he was your first and last boyfriend and luckily you hadn’t lost your virginity to him or else you’d be going mad even now.

“a weirdo for real. remind me why you follow him again?”

she shrugged. “to be nosy. give us something to talk about.”

“valid.”

“your brother still going on the trip thingy?”

“yeah, why?”

“just asking. don’t he always go around the same time?”

“yeah but i didn’t think you were paying attention. he’s gonna be gone for two weeks this time.”

“two weeks?? oh you’ll be dead before he gets back.”

“don’t say that! i can handle myself fine for two weeks.”

“you don’t even sound like you believe yourself. but look at the bright side,” you rolled your eyes as you already knew what would come next. “connie can come over without any interruptions and he’ll stay and keep you company, and then~” tia started clapping her hands and moaning.

you laughed. “i fucking hate you. i don’t even think about him like that, he 22.”

“so? older dick be the best dick.”

“i’m gonna hang up on you.”

“it’s okay if you wanna hang up on me to call your man.”

“i don’t have a man.”

“sure..”

next wednesday rolled around quicker than you thought and it didn’t seem real to you up until you saw your brother all packed up in suit and tie.

“why you dressed up? i thought you were going on the trip to relax.”

“there’s a meeting right before we board the plane.” you nodded as you watched your brother put on his dress shoes. “are you sure you’ll be okay? you’ll call or text if you need anything right?”

“yes, i’ll be okay. just have fun.”

“i already called everyone to let them know so some one would be there everyday to check on you. and don’t throw any parties or anything while i’m gone.”

“i’ll try not to.” you joked. but he knew you weren’t like that. the most you’d probably do is have tia sleep over or something and just the two of you do stupid shit in the comfort of your own home.

“well,” he started as you helped him load the last of his things in his car. “i love you, i’ll be back in two weeks. i’ll call and text everyday, just don’t die on me.” he laughed while he pulled you into a tight embrace

“i won’t die, promise.”

after the both of you struggled to let go, you bid him a formal farewell as you watched him back out the parking lot, “love you too, be safe!”

after all that, it was weird having the place to yourself but you’d just operate how you would normally do. the only difference was that jean wasn’t present and you had to get used to that. but as he said, over the two weeks, people came to check on you every day.

you had visits from your older stepbrother elliot snd his girlfriend, your mom, your stepdad, and even your biological dad who really just started speaking to you after your mom remarried. but family wasn’t the only people who were there for you. you had visits from sasha who you’d hang out with from time to time, and sleepovers with your friend tia. but one person you really should’ve saw coming was connie. but you didn’t know how you felt just yet.

“y/n~” you heard connie call out to you from your room but he stopped in the doorway when he made it. “your brother told me to—“

“check up on me?”

“yeah, but.. a little more than that.”

“what?”

“he gave me a key, see?” he held it up proudly but you were shocked and maybe a bit upset.

“when did he give you a key? and why?” connie walked into your room and sat at the chair by your desk.

“he wants me to check on you

everyday—“

“people do that already.”

“yeah but he wants me to check on you everyday.. for multiple times a day.”

“so i don’t have a choice.. but to see you everyday?”

“multiple times a day, yes.” he smiles. “but that makes it easier for us to get to know each other.”

“don’t you have things to do? like work or..?”

“yeah but i’ll just come here after.” you rolled your eyes. although jean suspected that connie was trying something with you, he still trusted connie to keep you safe if anything else.

“whatever.” you went back to whatever you were doing.

“right,” connie stood up to walk out the room. “and imma need your number or something.”

“to track me?”

“no, just to keep in contact with you. weirdo.” he laughed. you were the weirdo? you ended up putting your number in his phone and he put his number in yours. “i turned locations on by the way. i’ll be back, bye!” he left before you could even get on him about it.

[dragonydreams]

Plus One - Buck/Tommy

Title: Plus One Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audience And Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Athena Grant/Bobby Nash Additional Tags: Fluff, family dinner, coming out, Tommy Kinard POV Summary: Buck is Tommy's plus one for dinner at the Grant-Nash home. Timeline: 7x05 Word Count: 2,366 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me.

Read on AO3

Tommy was enjoying sitting out in the sun with Evan's hand caught between both of his when his phone rang. He still couldn't believe that he'd just agreed to be Evan's date to his sister's wedding. 

Reluctantly, he removed his hand from on top of Evan's to pull his phone from his pocket. He didn't recognize the phone number, but in his line of work he couldn't ignore a call from an unknown number.

"I should probably take this," he said as he accepted the call. "Hello?"

"Hi Tommy, it's Bobby Nash."

"Captain Nash, hi," Tommy said, meeting Evan's wide eyes across the table. Evan gave his hand a little squeeze. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Athena and I would like you to come to dinner at our house," Bobby said. "We barely got to talk after the rescue and we would like to thank you properly."

"I was just doing my job," Tommy deflected, not that he wasn't grateful for the invitation.

"We both know that you weren't sanctioned to come get us. You put your career on the line to come save us and I cannot say how grateful we are that you did. The least we can do is make you a home cooked meal."

"I do miss your cooking," Tommy admitted. 

"I don't know if you're seeing anyone, but feel free to bring them along, too," Bobby offered. 

Tommy turned his hand over so he could squeeze Evan's. "I have started seeing someone who I think I'd like to bring." 

Across the table, Evan pointed at his chest and mouthed, 'Me?' Tommy just nodded. 

"We look forward to meeting them," Bobby said. "How's Wednesday night?" 

"Wednesday works for me," Tommy agreed. 

"I'll text you the address. I look forward to catching up," Bobby said.

"I'll see you then," Tommy said. He met Evan's eyes. "Want to go to dinner at Captain Nash's with me on Wednesday as my date?"

"You want me to be your date for dinner with Bobby and Athena?" 

"Only if you're comfortable with it," Tommy said. 

"Well, he'd find out about us at the wedding anyway," Evan said. "I like the idea of him knowing about us before then. He is kinda like my work dad."

"That's not really a thing," Tommy said, laughing. "I can't believe how much of a family the 118 became after I left."

"Hey, if you hadn't left when you did, I could have ended up at some other station." Evan shuddered dramatically. 

Tommy blinked. "I hadn't done that math. You were my replacement."

"You left some pretty big shoes to fill," Evan said. 

"How old are you?" Tommy hesitantly asked.

"I'm thirty-four," Evan said. 

"Ten years, that's not so bad," Tommy mused aloud.

"If it makes you feel any better, you wouldn't be the first person I've dated who is older than me. Abby was like twenty years older than me when we dated," Evan admitted.

"You have some kind of May/December fetish I should be aware of?" Tommy teased.

"N-No," Evan spluttered. "This would only be the second time I dated someone that much older than me. Not that you're old."

"I'm kidding, Evan," Tommy said. He wondered why Evan seemed to melt a bit every time he said his name. He'd need to remember to ask him about that sometime.

"Besides, there is something to being with someone more mature, with more life experience," Evan said. 

"Especially for someone who only recently discovered they were into men?" Tommy asked, knowingly. 

"Yeah," Evan said, blushing. 

"So, what kind of wine should I bring to this dinner?" Tommy asked, looking to get back onto safer ground. 

"Red wine for Athena and something non-alcoholic for Bobby," Evan said. 

"He's sober?" Tommy asked. "That certainly explains some things."

"Not my story to tell, but yeah," Evan confirmed. 

"Do you have a wine preference?" Tommy asked. "I'm not all that picky," Evan said. "Depends on my mood."

"Good to know," Tommy said. He took another sip of his terrible coffee and grimaced. "First, I'm going to get some real coffee and then head to the liquor store. Care to join me?"

"Y-you want me to come with you?" Evan asked, clearly surprised.

"Unless you have plans?"

"No, my day is wide open," Evan said, enthusiastically.

"Great, let's go," Tommy said. 

~~*~~

On Wednesday night, Tommy picked Evan up before heading to the Grant-Nash home. He and Evan had a mild debate about who should drive since Evan had been to the house many times before, but Tommy wanted to woo Evan. Even if just a little.

Evan was fidgeting beside him as Tommy rang the doorbell.

"Second thoughts?" he asked, resting a hand on Evan's back.

Evan steeled himself and grinned at Tommy. "Not a one."

The door swung open to reveal both Bobby and Athena. Tommy registered their surprise at seeing Evan with him. 

"Buck, what are you doing here?" Bobby asked.

"I-I'm Tommy's plus one," he stuttered. 

Athena recovered first and stepped around Bobby to loop her arm through Tommy's and pull him inside. "That is wonderful news. I can't wait to hear all about how you two got together."

As they walked down a short flight of stairs, Tommy saw Bobby pull Evan into a hug and say so softly that Tommy almost couldn't hear it, "I'm happy for you."

"This is for you," Tommy said, presenting the wine to Athena. "Thank you for having us over."

"It is our pleasure," she said. "Especially if we are getting the good gossip before everyone else." She winked at him. 

"I'm afraid Eddie's got you beat, in that case," Evan said as he and Bobby joined them. "He interrupted our first date."

"He does know how to keep a secret," Bobby said. "We didn't even know about Christopher for the first few weeks he was with us."

"He seems like a really great kid," Tommy said. 

"You've met him?" Bobby asked in surprise. "I thought you were dating Buck."

"I am, but Eddie and I have become pretty good friends since the rescue, too," Tommy said. "I've hung out at his place to watch some fights."

"Tommy flew the two of them to Vegas to see some fight a couple of weeks ago," Buck added. 

"You sure you're not dating both of them?" Athena teased.

"Oh, I'm sure; Eddie turned me down when I asked for a date, but said he wanted to be friends."

"Wait, you asked Eddie on a date?" Evan asked in surprise.

"I'm going to finish getting dinner on the table. Is that for tonight?" Bobby asked, gesturing to the bottle of sparkling grape juice in Evan's hand. He held it out for Bobby without looking away from Tommy.

"I'll go pour the wine," Athena said. "We're going to need it."

"Did you kiss him, too?" Evan demanded in a whisper, pulling Tommy to the far side of the room.

"No, it was nothing like that," Tommy insisted. "On the way back from Vegas I asked if I could take him on a proper date and Eddie said that he was flattered, but he had a girlfriend. I was surprised because it was the first time he'd mentioned her. Apparently she'd been babysitting Christopher while we were at the fight."

"So, am I like some kind of consolation prize?" Evan asked, his voice trembling.

"No, never," Tommy grasped Evan's face between both his hands. "I didn't know you were an option until I went to your loft that night. And when you said you'd been trying to get my attention all week, I realized I didn't want to miss my chance with you."

He kissed Evan then, a soft chaste kiss since they were at someone else's home, but one filled with promise.

Evan looked dazed when he released him, just like after their first kiss. Tommy could get used to putting that look on Evan's face.

"Now let's go eat, I'm starving," Tommy said, grabbing Evan's hand and pulling him towards the kitchen. "It smells amazing in here."

"You guys all good?" Athena asked, an eyebrow raised. 

"Yeah, we're good," Evan said, that dopey grin still on his face. 

"Coming through," Bobby said, setting a large pan of lasagna on the trivets on the table. 

Tommy inhaled deeply and sighed. "Man, I've missed your cooking."

"I'll have to make you my version sometime," Evan said as they sat. "Bobby's been teaching me how to cook and I think I've got this one down. Eddie and Christopher like it, at least."

"You've got the chili down, too," Bobby said, "now that you know the secret ingredient."

"He told you his secret chili ingredient?" Athena asked, surprised. "I don't even know that."

Evan puffed out his chest. "Yeah, I pestered it out of him."

Bobby served up the lasagna, the salad and garlic bread were passed around, and they took a few minutes to enjoy their food. 

"Bobby, you have only become a better chef," Tommy said. "When you retire you should definitely open a restaurant."

Bobby laughed. "Thank you for the compliment but that is a stress I do not want in my retirement. I much prefer cooking for family and friends."

"The 118 really has become a family, hasn't it?" Tommy asked, somewhat wistfully. "I could see it heading that way when I left, but leaving was still the right move for me."

"You seem happy at Harbor," Bobby said. "I've heard nothing but good things from your captain."

"You checkin' up on me?" Tommy teased.

"Maybe from time to time," Bobby admitted. "You seem much freer since your time with us."

Tommy glanced over at Evan. "Yeah, when I started at the 217 I did it as an out gay man. Took a page from Wilson's book and made it clear that this is who I am."

"I heard a lot of stories about Captain Gerard when I started and I know what it was like under him. I understand why you didn't feel comfortable sharing that part of yourself. I'm glad you found somewhere that you can be you." 

"Yeah, Gerard was the worst kind of old school misogynist. I saw what Han and Wilson went through when they started and out of self preservation didn't want to have him treat me that way, too. It was cowardly, but it was also survival."

Evan reached over to squeeze his thigh under the table. 

"I am a bit surprised you didn't tell us about yourself, Buck," Athena said. "You seem to share so much of yourself with everyone that this caught us a bit by surprise."

"I, um, didn't actually know this about myself until recently," Evan said, meeting Tommy's eyes. "Not until Tommy kissed me."

Tommy wondered about the look that Bobby and Athena shared and wondered if it had something to do with Evan and Eddie's close friendship. 

"Well, I'm -"

"We're," Athena cut in. 

"We're very happy for you both. I'm guessing you haven't told the rest of the team, aside from Eddie?"

"That's correct," Evan said. "Well, Maddie knows. Pretty sure she hasn't told Chimney since he isn't bouncing off the walls trying to keep a secret."

"But they'll know soon, as I'll be Evan's date for his sister's wedding," Tommy finished.

"Now that's one way to come out," Athena said. "You sure you want to do that with your parents there?"

"I'm done trying to get their approval. We're never going to be close. If they can't accept that I'm dating a man now, that's on them."

Tommy could sense that there was a lot of bad blood there, but now was not the time to ask. He wondered if this had anything to do with why everyone called him Buck instead of by his name and wondered if he should be doing that too. But Evan hadn't asked him not to call him Evan; in fact, he seemed to like it. Tommy made a note to ask about that later.

"That's very mature of you," Athena said.

"What can I say, the therapy actually helped."

The rest of dinner progressed easily. Athena told them about Bobby's heroics after the ship capsized and his acrobatics to get Norman safely lowered to the new floor of the ship. 

Tommy told them about some of his more interesting rescues, although saving Bobby and Athena would be at the top of his list for a long time when telling stories to other people. 

When it was time to go, Bobby packaged up the leftover lasagna for Tommy to take home with him. Evan pouted about Tommy getting all of the leftovers and Bobby promised to make it at the station soon.

On the drive back to Evan's loft, Tommy asked, "Would you prefer if I call you Buck?" Evan turned to look at him. "It's just, I know that's what everyone else calls you."

"I-I kinda like that you don't call me what everyone else does," Evan admitted. "I always felt like such a disappointment as Evan, so when there were two other Evans in my class at the fire academy I started having people call me Buck. Buck wasn't a screw up. Buck was a firefighter who could get things done. Someone who mattered."

"You matter regardless of what you're called," Tommy interrupted. 

Evan reached out to clasp Tommy's hand on the gearshift. "I know that. And when you call me Evan, I don't feel like a disappointment. I guess you could say that you're a first step to reclaiming that name."

"So should I expect everyone else to start calling you Evan now, too?" Tommy asked.

"Unlikely," Evan said, laughing. "You've seen how no one calls Chimney 'Howie' anymore. Except for Maddie, sometimes."

"If at any point you change your mind, I will call you by whatever name you want," Tommy assured him. 

"Thank you, that means a lot," Evan answered. 

As they approached Evan's apartment building, he asked, "Do you want to come up for a nightcap?"

Tommy glanced over to see the hopeful expression on Evan's face and even though he knew he shouldn't, he found himself saying, "I'd love to."

[vaniloqu3nce]

More about the wenclair kids, this post is dedicated to @krystal-maiden because they wanted to know more about the twins! If anyone wants to ask anything about them, I’d happily share my hyperfixations with anyone (:

Leonidas is a pack animal and prefers company. He follows his moms everywhere and whenever his uncles visit he will hold something they have hostage so they can stay longer. Leonidas was jealous that Wednesday AND Enid had brothers, so he asked for brothers for his birthday. He got two twin sisters instead.

When the twins came home, Leonidas tried to return them because he thought they got the wrong kids.

Vittoria and Naenia are not identical twins, in fact one look at them and nobody could tell they were twins at all. Vittoria is the spitting image of Enid and Leonidas save for her nearly black eyes. And Naenia is the spitting image of Wednesday, except her bright blue eyes which stare into the soul of anyone and everyone.

Naenia and Vittoria were born with their dominant gene being psychic, and because of their twinship they share a connection. If Vittoria cries, Naenia will start crying soon after. If Vittoria is hungry, Naenia will cry, if Naenia wakes up in the middle of the night and sits there quietly, Vittoria will wake up and start crying. If Naenia needs to be changed, Vittoria will start crying. Leonidas noticed this and immediately started trying to experiment to figure out the limits of this. Wednesday always manages to catch him before someone gets beheaded though.

Vittoria was smiling as soon as they left the delivery room. (They had to make sure Leonidas didn’t cut the breaks) Naenia didn’t stop crying unless Wednesday held her and they didn’t like to be separated. Leonidas spent the entire car ride pouting because he wanted brothers.

Naenia has a permanent glare, unless her face is relaxed, like when she’s inspecting Enid’s fangs or near Vittoria. (Naenia will play with Enid and Leo’s fangs as a baby) The first time she smiles is at Leonidas as he’s about to set her on fire, and he decides she is more useful alive (his heart melts and he realizes he’d protect his baby sisters with his life). Vittoria is a very happy baby so long as she’s entertained. She’s very curious and tries to get into everything Leo owns (annoy him to death) and thus starts their life long prank rivalry.

Yoko loves the twins and Leo, she insist they call her aunty or dad (Wednesday firmly disagrees even though she is their god mother). Frequently Yoko just pops into the house with gifts for the twins and Leo. Vittoria loves anything colorful to chew on and expensive (she seems to be able to smell what costs money). Yoko very quickly becomes Vittoria’s favorite and Naenia loves her fangs.

Leonidas always tries to ambush and kill Yoko but she’s much faster and stronger than he is. Yoko just thinks he’s adorable every time he tries to jump on her back with a toy knife. He makes it his goal to defeat her in combat (even though he won’t say it, he respects her a lot). And he likes that she protects Enid, Leo is very protective of his moms.

Naenia loves being around Leonidas, she smiles most as a baby when he watches horror movies with her.

Vittoria loves when there are a lot of people around to watch, she doesn’t like to be bored at all. She often spends time in Leonidas’s old carrier with Enid because she likes to move around. And because Naenia doesn’t like to be far from her, Enid buys a second one for Wednesday to use in public. She is appalled. She wears it anyway. They’re in their snood colors.

Enid: We can match!

Wesnesday: …Leo I think your mom is trying to send me to an early grave.

Leonidas: Grave digging! :D

Wednesday, nodding: Yes we do have to take them on their first grave robbing expedition, they’re getting about that age.

Enid: …they’re five months old.

Wednesday: By that age my father and my uncle had already taken me across the sea to slay my first kraken with them. It’s a bonding experience for family.

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 18

Current Moon Phase: Waxing Crescent 🌒

Today Enid suggested we head into Jericho for Christmas shopping. I informed her that this was unnecessary for me as I had already finished making my Yuletide gifts before the final month began. She looked a little taken aback but I was quick to clarify that it did not mean I wouldn't join her in town. I donned my jacket and took her hand in my own. She lit up again at once and immediately pulled me out of our dorm.

As we walked through the halls on our way down to the bus she asked me many questions about Yule. I had no qualms in educating her about its history, symbols, and traditions.

'Woah! So it's kind of like an old timey Christmas?' Was her response. I cannot describe the physical pain this caused me. 'Willa, are you okay?' She asked as we boarded the bus.

'Perhaps it would also be prudent to discuss the history of the holiday you celebrate as well.' I said, taking a calming breath as we sat down. I could tell that it would be a long trip to Jericho.

-YourFavoriteFruitBat is now livestreaming-

"What's up guys! YourFavoriteFruitBat here along with my girl GayMerGirl as we head into town! We're going to see how long I can stand in the local churches before I catch fire!"

"You're not seriously doing that are you?"

"Hey chat it looks like we've got a guest appearance by QBB - Queen Bee Barclay!"

"Don't call me that."

"So what are your plans for town today?"

"Well, I guess they now include staying away from the churches."

"Aw, come on Bianca don't be- Wait, chat's going crazy. Hold on. Oh shit! I guess we've also got an impromptu episode of Wenid Watch!"

"So this is still a thing?"

"Yeah, it's become even more popular over the past couple weeks. I remember when Yoko started filming them occasionally as a joke but now everyone is super invested."

"Like, their relationship?"

"Yup! It's the whole 'will they won't they' kind of thing. Except they're finally together now, I think."

"Shh! Quiet you two! This is a rare sighting of the two love bats outside of their nest!"

"-and it was the psychoactive component of the amanita muscaria, or fly agaric, that caused hallucinations, with the most common hallucination being that of flying reindeer."

"Wow! But wait, if people only hallucinated the reindeer flying then how did the Christmas Werewolf win the werewolf games?"

"The… what?"

"The werewolf games! How did the Christmas Werewolf win if the reindeer he ate didn't actually fly?"

"I am unaware of such a tale."

"You not know about the Christmas Werewolf? Ha! Quit joking!"

"This is no jest, cara mia."

"You know, the Christmas Werewolf."

"Mi amor, I am afraid that you repeating it does not give me any greater clarity."

"…You? You really haven't heard the story of the Christmas Werewolf?"

"No. I am woefully ignorant."

"…"

"Please enlighten me."

"Okay! So my dad always told the story just before the twelve days of Christmas began back when my brothers and I were just cubs-"

"Cubs?"

"You know, kid werewolves."

"Ah, I see. Continue."

"The Christmas Werewolf, okay so you know how werewolves remain wolfed out for the twelve days of Christmas right?"

"No..."

"Really? Okay, uh, there's a lot I'm going to need to cover then. Anyway, werewolves who have completed their first full wolf out stay wolfed out during the twelve days of Christmas. That's when we compete in the werewolf games."

"And what happens in these games?"

"Well, we test our strength and stuff, like running and hunting and jumping. There's also alcohol involved but that's mainly for the older werewolves. Anyway, so the story goes that a long time ago on a cold winter's night all the local werewolves gathered together for the werewolf games. Everyone got to play except for one little werewolf. None of the other werewolves would let him join in the games because they said he was too small and weak and could never hope to compete. The little werewolf was very sad but determined to prove them wrong."

"The other werewolves laughed and said they would let him join in the games if he could jump over the wall of a nearby castle. The little werewolf saw how tall the wall was and knew he could not jump it all by himself. He wandered off into the woods and that's when he saw it: Santa's reindeer. The little werewolf got an idea. If the reindeer could fly, maybe he could too if he ate one."

"That took a rather unexpected turn."

"So, he comes up with this whole big plan to catch one of the reindeer. Long story short he succeeds and eats one of the reindeer and goes back to the other werewolves. Anyway, he wins because he can jump super high now and gets crowned the Christmas Werewolf."

"And how did Santa respond to the death of one of his reindeer?"

"Well, I mean, that's why Santa doesn't deliver presents to werewolves. And why we can't enjoy hot chocolate at Christmas. And also why his reindeer wear silver bells, so werewolves never eat his reindeer again."

"That… makes sense."

"I know right? But if the flying reindeer were hallucinations, how did the Christmas werewolf make the jump?"

"I would suppose that with this werewolf being quite clever he found some alternative way to clear that castle wall."

"I guess."

"Enid, if the character of Saint Nicholas refuses to bring gifts to werewolves why have you hung stockings?"

"Oh! Those aren't for Santa! It's for the Christmas werewolf to leave dried venison. It's symbolic of the meat of the flying reindeer."

"Why stockings?"

"Well, you can't wear stockings when you're wolfed out, silly. That's why he puts it in there."

"Of course. And the tree?"

"Werewolf Christmases are mostly spent outside, since almost everyone is wolfed out. So we have two trees that are decorated the same. One inside for the cubs that haven't wolfed out and one outside for everyone else. You can find your family by the tree outside that is decorated like the one inside."

"There appears to be much I do not know about werewolf Christmas."

"I don't know. I think they're mostly the same. I mean, you spend time with family and people you care about, you give gifts, and you compete to see who is the strongest."

"Must one be a werewolf to partake in these games?"

"Uh, technically no but they are very challenging if you aren't."

"What is the prize of winning said games?"

"Well, you get to be the Christmas Werewolf."

"And what does that entail?"

"You get first pick when it comes to meals, everyone has to listen to you, you get bragging rights, and you hunt the Christmas reindeer so you can put venison in everyone's stockings."

"Interesting. Tell me the games again."

"Willa? You're not- you're not thinking of competing are you?"

"Would it be inappropriate for me to?"

"No but, you're not, you're kinda-"

"Yes?"

"You're small."

"Is the story you told me not about the small and clever overcoming brute strength?"

"Yes but Willa- My family is super competitive."

"As am I, querida."

"Willa no."

"I am merely curious, mi loba."

"Well chat? What do you think? Do you think Wednesday Addams has what it takes to compete in the werewolf games?"

"I worry for the werewolves to be honest."

"Bianca's got the spirit! I'm adding a poll down in chat. Chat, do you think Wednesday has a chance? I guess we'll have to wait till after winter break to find out!"

-YourFavoriteFruitBat has ended the livestream-

[scoobydoodean]

It will always make me cringe that John (presumably?) made his sons call him "sir". Like, what the fuck, man? Show them some love.

I'll be honest—while I get this bothers other people and I can get that, this specifically doesn't bother me too much personally. It's probably because I come at it from a different cultural perspective. I was raised in the deep south (U.S.), and my parents taught me to always answer adults "Yes/No sir" or "Yes/No ma'am" as I was growing up. Just as with Sam and Dean, "Dad" and "Mom" are still addressed as "Dad" and "Mom", but yes/no questions got a "ma'am" or "sir" tacked on.

This has largely fallen out of fashion now, and that doesn't bother me either—there are a lot of reasons it's probably best to leave this in the past. But I'm 28 years old now, and I tell you what—I still shift back into this sometimes. Not with my parents—but when I was in a gas station soul food restaurant in the middle of nowhere for lunch this past Wednesday, you bet your ass I instantly jumped to replying to the older gentleman waiting on my family with a "yes sir" or "no sir". Sometimes it just pops out.

I will say, this is not standard behavior with parents I think at Sam and Dean's ages even within my experience. Usually, kids shift out of answering with "yes sir" or "yes ma'am" as they get older. I think it is meant to reflect a certain drill-sergeant mentality where Sam and Dean are John's soldiers—something John himself admits to in 1.20. It just doesn't really raise my blood pressure if you know what I mean.

Do you notice though—how John responds to Sam's "backtalk" versus Dean's? The scene I just made a gif set of is the first where John doesn't admonish Dean, specifically, for standing up to him. You can also tell Sam is surprised and also a little worried for Dean there. In the discussion that proceeds that set, Dean calls John's insistence that he's trying to keep them safe "Crap", and gets an "Excuse me?" that Sam didn't when he was just spewing simmering anger at John a few seconds before. In 1.21, when John criticizes Dean for not calling to tell him about Sam's visions and Dean blows up about it, John ends up saying he's right, but also policing his "tone". I think one reason is that Dean is supposed to be his dutiful son who doesn't talk back—so John isn't used to this. But I also think Dream!Dean's comments in 3.10 "Dream A Little Dream Of Me" lend to the idea that John took a more exacting stance with Dean over "backtalk". 14.12 "Prophet and Loss" suggests the same—indicating John would send Dean away if Dean pissed him off.