#activities for you and your three weed smoking girlfriends

[dysaren]

the best patient ✮ | e.jaeger

MDNI-> warnings: afab reader, nurse!y/n, erenbrokehiswrist, cheater!eren, stoner!eren, dealer!eren, (pretend hes also a metalhead bc i love metalheads. and toxic eren oh my god its unhealthy), mentions of weed, blowjobs, hairpulling, missionary, cowboy, multiple creampies, dirty talk, eyerolling, tit sucking, hickies, pussy eating, cum swapping/sharing/consuming, squirting (cuz it wouldnt be a dysaren fic without squirting!), erens gf visits.

a/n: sorry im so inactive im actually so busy like all the time :( (save me.) anyway, enjoy this quick fic i wrote instead of doing my assignments!! i am a sucker for toxic,cheater,stoner,dealer,metalhead,has piercings eren. based on a scenario that i created with a character.ai bot ( i am ashamed.. it was a xiao bot.)

"hello. im nurse y/n and ill be taking care of you for the duration of your stay here." you say, walking into the ER patient room as you scan my clipboard for the details of the person staying here.

Name: Eren Yeager

DOB: March 30 XXXX

Height: 6'0 ft

"weight, ethnicity blah blah... reason of hospitlization: distal radius fracture..." you read to yourself, glancing up from the clipboard to meet eyes with the man in the hospital bed. his long brown hair was up in a messy bun, he had tattos running from his neck all the way down to his arms, and from what you can tell, he was built, rather... nicely. (he was buff asf.)

the man looked miserable. he had swollen undereyes, and his skin looked dry, but still, for some reason you found him incredibly attractive.

"hello nurse." he mutters, clearly tired.

"hello." you repeat again. "im just here just to check up on you." you explain to him, sauntering closer to his bed.

you flip the page on your clipboard to a new, blank sheet. "i will just be running some tests, checking your vital signs and see how you are healing."

eren nods compliantly.

you take that as a sign of consent and start writing some things down on paper. "he seems to be doing fine...even his arms are nice fuck." you get distracted, looking at his arms, the way the veins pop out. mentally youre drooling. his fingers are long and thick, and there are indentations of multiple rings on them which only gets you more excited.

you flip your page back to the information sheet from before, checking the notes: "frequent smoker and sexually active."

"so it says here you are a frequent smoker?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of confirmation from him.

eren nods again. "yes" he whispers. "some nicotine but mostly weed."

"oh i see." you say, writing that information down.

"i can get you some. once im out of here at least." he looks up at you.

"im sorry?" you mustive heard wrong...right?

"ive seen you around before." eren explains. "at parties...you know mostly smoking. like that last one...you were with jean and connie."

oh. you didnt hear wrong.

three days ago, on your day off, you had went to a party with your friends jean and connie. they said it would be a good idea since it would be a chance for you to finally relax from your stressful job, so you relunctantly went. that was your first time smoking weed. it was wonderful and you guess eren saw the whole thing.

"you must have it wrong... i dont typically smoke." you explain to the brown haired man.

"i know, jean and connie told me it was your first. looked like you had a good time though." he smiles tiredly up at you.

you were taken a back a bit. you didnt know that the two of them knew eren. do they know that he's in the hospital right now? are they the reason he broke his wrist? where were they?

"i see..." you ponder a bit. "are they here with you tonight? somewhere in the hospital i mean."

"yeah. theyre here with my girlfriend too since she's the only sober one who can drive at the moment... they just went back to my place to grab some things for me before you came in. they wont be back for a while." eren clarifies.

"goddamnit he has a girlfriend." you sob internally.

"thats good to know." you fake smile, looking back at your clipboard. "it says here youre also sexually active... are you taking any sort of pills perchance?" you continue with your questions, trying to get back to professionalism.

"nope its all just me." he giggles with a coy grin on his face. youd hate to admit that his laugh turned you on a bit.

you finish up your report of eren, rechecking his vitals once more to confirm things. "okay it seems as though youre on the right track... it can take up to 6-12 weeks for your wrist to comepletely heal. otherwise, you might want to lay off the weed consumption till then." you finish up.

before you can leave, he call out. "wait.."

you turn around. "what is it? are you alright?"

"i have a problem with something and i just cant seem to be able to do it myself." eren tries saying shyly, but the look in is eyes seemed to be more sinsiter than you thought. "after all... i did just break my wrist..."

he looks down at his jeans, putting the spotlight on the constrained buldge in his jeans.

youre flushed. "oh..." what were you supposed to do in this situation?? didnt he have a girlfriend?

right he had a girlfriend.

"im sure your girlfriend can help you out with that."

eren's eyebrows crease. he did have a girlfriend and she was amazing. she did basically everything for him. so why now was he so damn attracted to his nurse to want to take a risk and cheat on everything he had???

he presses his lips together before speaking, "i lied. i just didnt want to seem like a pussy to ya." sentences were forming right as he was speaking them. hopefully it was enough to fool you. "please. its so uncomfortable..."

his throbbing cock was being compressed by not only his boxers but also by his black rocker jeans. it was true. it was extremely uncomfortable so why not relieve it with the cute nurse who also happened to be the cute girl who had been sitting with his friends not too long ago, taking a drag from a joint he sold to jean and connie.

you were relunctant, but then again, you could feel your panties getting damper. you walk up to him slowly, keeping your eyes locked with his. you sit down on the bed beside him.

he feels your soft hands on his buldge and from that he lets out a restrained sigh. "fuck." he huffs.

god, there was no way this wasnt turning you on too. eren knew that. he saw the way you bit your lip as you started to unbutton his jeans.

"how long will they be gone?" you ask, hinting at the group of friends eren had mentioned previously. "for a while.. my place is pretty from from the hospital." he watches you slowly pull down his zipper. "fuck baby youre making me go crazy."

you smile, finally releasing his cock from his boxers. he was hung. youre eyes widened and he lauged.

"too much for you baby?" he questions.

"no..." you whisper, slowly kitten licking the tip, tasting his precum before fully sheathing his cock in your mouth.

eren moaned. loudly.

"holy shit!" he huffs. "oh my god..." he leans his head back, grabbing your neat ponytail to guide you while sucking him off.

"ugghhfff!" you choke on his length, tears coming to your eyes. but you like it. it felt too good. at this point, your panties were soaking wet at this point.

"fuck baby you gotta stop or else im gonna cum." eren gasps, pulling you off from his dick. "cmon take it all off... show me."

you look behind you to make sure that the door to the room was closed. you look back at him with a playful look, pulling off your uniform and undershirt to reveal your cleavage.

eren smirked, watching as your skin reacted from the cold air, goosebumps forming. he reaches behind you and releases the hooks of your bra.

he sighed at the sight of your tits. they were beautiful. you were beautiful. he kneads at your chest as you remove the rest of your garments, underwear included.

you were fully exposed to him. internally, eren was freaking out. externally, he was entranced by your body, drooling a bit.

"eren?" you ask, waving your hand infront of him. he snaps out of his trance. "are you ok?" you look at him with a worried look.

"im ok baby. sorry. lets keep going." he says, rubbing his tip on your clit. he can feel your wetness and he smirks once again,

"you are dripping baby..." he whispers in your ear. "i dont even need to prep you..." eren slowly shoves his cock into you.

you were in heaven. both of you were. to him, you felt so fucking tight. he doesnt even know if youre a virgin or not. how couldnt you be? "youre so tight..." he groans, restraining himself from prematurely giving you a creampie.

you have never felt so full in your life. in your life, you've only fucked one guy and the rest had been occupied by your plethora of sex toys. but eren... eren was different. you were filled to the brim. eren could see the buldge of his dick lightly poking through your pudgy tummy. that made him go feral.

he started thrusting into you faster, sucking on your sensitive nipples, licking around the skin as well. he left mulitple hickies in the places where only he could see them. you still were on your shift of course, he wanted to be courteous.

"mmm..." he heard you sigh, smiling as he kissed your body.

eren lifts you up so now youre straddling him. he keeps his pace constant but you wanted to take control. so you start bouncing on his cock. he watches as your tits move with you, again trying not to prematurely cum.

"mmmhf!!!!" you try to conceal your moans, but it was so hard. "fuck daddy please!! i need more!!" you were being greedy, but it felt too good.

"youre bossy baby." eren laughs. he thrusts up, faster than before. "fuck im gonna fucking cum." you watched him gasp, bringing your face closer to his, kissing him with so much passion. he kissed back.

sure he had a girlfriend, but maybe now he's finally gonna break it with her. just for you.

"ah ah..." you gasp, feeling his thrusts slow down. you whine.

"shush baby, let me cum inside before i fuck it back into you." he moans into your neck, creampie-ing your cunt. you try not to scream as you feel the heat in your stomach release as you cum as well.

your eyes roll back into your head and oh how he loves the sight. yeah hes all yours now.

eren picks up his pace once again, like he said, fucking his cum deeper into you.

you scream before he slaps a hand over your mouth. "shut it baby... dont want everyone hearing how much of a slut you are."

"mmfgf!" you groan in protest.

eren doesnt stop his pace until he's shooting his thick load into you once again.

he's catching his breath as he pulls out, plugging your pussy with his fingers so the essence wouldnt leak from your cute slit.

youre all fucked out by the way. he watches as your face contorts into pure pleasure, feeling the band in your stomach snap as you twitch on his fingers.

eren shoves his mouth onto your pussy, licking up the mess in between your legs, tasting both him and you. he licks up your slit to your clit, flicking it with his tongue. youre overstimulated and tired. your couldnt take it anymore. you gush once more on his face, the liquid dripping down his chin and onto the sheets of the hospital bed.

"aahh..." you breathe heavily, recovering from your third orgasm.

"that feel good baby?" he says, bring his head up to meet your eyes. he could see hearts in them.

"mm... i think we're going to have to change the sheets." you giggle.

"well it was worth it." he watches as you sit up, making sure youre not in any discomfort. he rubs your back and fixes your hair. "you look beautiful like this."

"do i?" you say, questioning his taste.

he nods before leaning in for a comforting kiss. "let me take you out." he whispers.

you nod-

KNOCK KNOCK!

you glance behind you to look at the door.

"eren! its mikasa!" you both hear from the other side of the door.

you look back at him in confusion. "mikasa?"

he rolls his eyes.

"my girlfriend."

#eren #eren imagines #eren jeager smut #eren aot #eren x you #eren x reader #eren jaeger #aot x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x mikasa

[astragreenwoode]

The Spitfire Curse - Chapter Four

Previous: Chapter Three • Next: Chapter Five • Masterlist • AO3 Version

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairings: Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC (Only Mentioned)

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con, Non-specified Mental Illness, Self-Harm, Drug Use, Hypersexuality, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Hearing Voices

Genre: Adventure, Thriller, Horror, Slow-Burn Romance, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Smut, Fluff, Slight Canon-Divergence, Fix-it fic

As always, thank you @take-everything-you-can for your beta reading and all your feedback!

Chapter Four: Filled With A Distrust In Authority

Word Count: 8,374

Chapter Warnings: Disembodied Voices, Police Brutality, Anxiety, Self-Deprecating Thoughts, Assault, References to Murder and other Criminal Activities, Mentions of Drug Use, Self-Harm, Mental Illness

Chapter Summary: Maeven reflects on her relationship with cops before her nerve-wracking meeting with the police chief of Hawkins, who turns out to be the complete opposite of what she expected.

June 1982

Billy and I had our fair share of run-ins with the cops. I can count on both hands the times we were caught smoking weed, trespassing in abandoned buildings, or fooling around in his Camaro. We were only arrested or put in a holding cell twice, but it was twice too many times. Mom and Dad gave me hour-long lectures that ended up with me running to my room and slamming the door on them as I yelled back, “I FUCKING HATE YOU!”

I never used to do that before.

I wasn’t always frightened of cops. Up until I learned about the Gay Liberation Movement from my uncle, I saw them as people I could trust with my life and safety. But even then, I always felt some uneasiness shaking up my body. Even though I knew I was supposedly ‘safe,’ their presence filled me with a fear similar to the kind when I would get in trouble with a teacher when I didn’t even understand what I did wrong. 

After my uncle told me his story of being in so many protests and what cops did to people like him, like me, my seemingly pointless fear of authority figures was validated. This wasn’t long after I had my first kiss with a girl in Middle School.

Even if this sudden realization made my life feel on edge from there on out, something that was constant during this period in my life was my Dad; I never felt unsafe with him. And I had a better understanding with him about why he’d have Max and I favor him instead of the cops in terms of our safety. The waters of doubt became clearer after I was arrested for the first time.

My friend, Emily Bernard, was my first ever kiss and almost girlfriend, but we were awkward with each other whenever we weren’t making out. Her brother, Jordan, was my first-ever boyfriend. He was my first everything. On one hand, being his girlfriend kept me safe from the possible bullying I’d get if it got out that I liked girls. On the other hand, I genuinely did like Jordan. Being with a guy could be just as charismatic and breathtaking as being with a girl.

Sure, he was a bit clueless and headstrong, but he meant well. He was reckless with himself for fun, and I was always the one to talk him out of making bad decisions. It was exhausting at times, but we really enjoyed each others’ company. I was naive enough to think that maybe, just maybe, we’d be together forever. Maybe it was my inner child still trying to hold onto that fantastical hope that disappeared the older you get. Maybe it was my brain telling me how much I needed close bonds like this in order to survive, the way animals do in the wild. But I wasn’t a princess. I wasn’t an animal. I wasn’t in a fairytale. Life wasn’t perfect.

When I was a freshman in high school, two years into our relationship, I found out that Jordan cheated on me. He was my first heartbreak, the last first he’d ever be to me. Even when he tried to deflect my anger toward the girl he hooked up with, I stayed mad at him. He was the one in a relationship. Jordan could’ve simply told her that, but he didn’t. It was the fact that he chose not to that made me so mad, and it was insulting to try and make himself out as the victim.

After a week of burying my heartache in ice cream and horror movie marathons with Max and a month of avoiding eye contact with Jordan at school, I went to his house to drop off a box of his things we kept in my room. I was also hoping to get my stuff from his room in return. It was what adults did; it was the mature thing to do. I had come to terms with our breakup and was ready to move on.

But we weren’t adults; we were kids. And more often than not, kids are villainously petty. The day I came back to the Bernard family home to return Jordan’s things, I went from mature to petty in a flash. It was a cool summer night as I was about to ring the doorbell, I heard Jordan curse out in the backyard.

“OW! GODDAMIT!”

When I trailed around the house, I found him tripping over a bundle of tree branches. He was really good at building fires. We used to camp a lot. As soon as I saw I box with all my things I left with him next to the roaring fire pit, I lost my shit. It was the first time I heard the jumbled voice that taunted me with intrusive thoughts and impulsiveness.

They told me, “Fuck being the bigger person! He’s about to burn all your shit! Are you gonna let him get away with that, Maeven?”

Without even realizing it, I snuck up on Jordan so that the next time he turned around, he’d scream and fall backward. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He screamed like your average horror movie victim; it was probably the reason he didn’t like to watch them with me. Jordan could be tough and headstrong in certain situations but was a clumsy scaredy-cat once he stepped outside of them.

“Oh, hey, Mae-Mae! Hi, uhmmm, what. . .what’re you doing here?”

“You don’t get to fucking call me that, Jordan! Not anymore! So, I’ll ask you again; what the hell are you doing?!”

As he awkwardly looked me up and down, he frantically gathered the branches and threw them into the fire pit with some old clothes I didn’t recognize. It must’ve been for kindling.

“What’re you doing here?”

I rolled my eyes. Did he honestly think I was that stupid? Did he not see the completely obvious box of his things I had in my hands?

“I asked you first,” I sneered at him. He jumbled on his words momentarily, making random vowels and sounds before straightening his train of thought.

“Spring cleaning?” He gave me a nervous smile that said ‘please buy it,’ as he began sweating.

“It’s June, and that’s a fire,” I pointed out.

His pupils dilated with panic as he stood up before a lame attempt was made to hide my box of stuff behind his dumbass legs as if I hadn’t already seen it. One of my worst pet peeves of his was how he refused to admit when he was cold. I rarely saw him out of shorts.

“My turn. What’re you doing here?”

“I was gonna be the bigger person and return the stuff you left at my house before proceeding to never speak to you again.” I gestured to the box of his things in my grasp before placing my hand on my hip and tilting my head.

“Good for you, Maeven. I’m proud of you,” he said so matter-of-factly. I could tell he was bursting with the energy he needed to make a run for the house.

“Yeah. But now. . .now I’m having second thoughts.”

The closest thing to Jordan shitting his pants was his heart dropping into his stomach. He had never seen me this angry before, but I had been bottling up all the bullshit he made me endure these past two years.

“Really? Why is that?” 

If it were possible, he’d fill a barrel of nervous sweat like an old cartoon.

“Because you’re burning my shit, Jordan! That’s why!” I almost cut him off, my intrusive thoughts and instinct response jumping against his verbal attack.

“No I wasn’t,” he defended himself, surprisingly calm. “Can I have my box back now?”

Yes. This was the hill I was willing to die on.

“I don’t know, Jordan! Can I have my virginity back?!”

The world around us suddenly went deadly silent and laced with tension. Jordan’s eyes widened in shock, but he remained speechless. If I’d been able to see beyond my anger at his betrayal, I would’ve noticed the small changes in his body that indicated when his heart split in half.

“I didn’t even burn it, yet!” he whined.

“But you were going to,” I clarified. His eyes widened as he realized he was caught red-handed in a lie.

“. . .shit.”

As if he was an animal using its defense mechanisms, he took one of the branches out of the fire pit and swung it at me, hitting my arm as the flames burnt my skin. It felt like someone pushed me into a hot grill.

“Are. . .you. . .SERIOUS?!?!”

My face scrunched up in anger as I subconsciously threw his box on the fire pit. I didn’t feel the pain in my knuckles until after it collided with his face; at least it didn’t hurt as much as my arm burned. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did to see him clutching his face on the grass like that as he pinched his nose to stop the flow of blood. He was pathetic before, but he looked even more so now.

“What’re you two idiots doing??” Emily yelled at us as she stood on the porch.

“I’m not an idiot!” Jordan and I yelled in unison.

“Right,” she rolled her eyes. “Hey, Idiot and Maeven. Knock it off.”

I let out a laugh so unnecessarily loud, making me feel even better than before now that I knew at least someone was on my side. . .for now.

“Whose side are you on??” Jordan whined again, getting up to walk towards the porch to his sister.

“Let’s see who wins first, then I’ll decide,” she replied.

“She burnt my stuff, Em!” he yelled, using his now blood-covered hand to point at me like a tattling toddler. “Skating and rock music have driven her to violence!”

I walked right up to him as he backed off like a cornered rabbit. I got up right in his face as I narrowed my eyes.

“You were gonna burn my stuff first, Jordan! And the only thing that has driven me to violence is you, you small-dicked son of a bitch!”

At my last syllable, he stumbled backward on his feet and knocked the back of his head on the wooden railing of the porch.

“HA!” Emily laughed before covering her mouth with her hand.

Jordan got up almost immediately and towered over me, ready to defend his honor.

“I told you never to mention that!” he yelled, shoving my shoulders, forcing me to step back from him a bit. I turned my eyes toward Emily.

“Will you please talk some sense into your lunatic of a brother!?”

She exhaustedly groaned, tilting her head up to the sky.

“You’re both acting like lunatics! And if you don’t knock it the hell off, someone’s gonna call the cops!”

In her defense, we were pretty loud.

“Fine. I’ll go as soon as you apologize and give me back my stuff,” I said, turning my head to Jordan. He had gotten what he deserved. I burnt his stuff, gave him a bloody nose, and announced the size of his dick to his whole neighborhood. That should’ve satisfied me, I should’ve known when to walk away, but I didn’t.

“Apologize?!” he laughed in my face. “I don’t have to apologize for anything, Maeven! You punched me in the face and burnt my shit! And technically, you don’t get a say in what I do with ‘your’ shit. You left it at my house, therefore, it's mine.”

I considered punching him again, but I didn’t. It would’ve landed me in more trouble than I already was about to be in.

“There she is! Right there!”

I turned around to see Mr. Bernard pointing his finger at me, two cops behind him as they stomped their way toward me. One of them took out their set of handcuffs.

“Dad?” Emily asked him. “What’re you doing?!”

“Oh, shit-AAAHH!!”

Before I knew it, one of the cops shoved me in the chest and sent me falling backward on the grass. My head collided with the ground and made my ears ring as I tried to find my bearings.

The one without the handcuffs aggressively turned me over onto my stomach before proceeding to push his knee into the small of my back. It forced the air out of my stomach and lungs. My brain tried to force my body to move, but I was frozen in place. I understood now that it was my body’s way of keeping me safe; it knew better than my head that I couldn’t fight this situation.

“What the hell!? I didn’t do anything!”

He shoved my head into the grass with his hand as his partner bound my hands. They hauled me up by the chain of the cuffs as they dug into my wrists, roughly grabbing my arms as they dragged me away.

“You’re under arrest for domestic violence and destruction of property. You have the right to remain silent-”

I blocked them out and turned my eyes to the Bernards.

“You’re arresting me for a bloody nose and a bad breakup?!” I scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?! He’s the one who burnt me!”

I couldn’t prove it, but I swear that one of them dug his fingers into the fresh burn on my arm. My feet refused to move as they dragged me along the grass from the backyard to their squad car; it was hard to believe this was really happening. It certainly wasn’t necessary for them to be this aggressive with a 5’4 fifteen-year-old girl.

“Dad, what’re you doing?!” Emily yelled behind me.

I could hear them trailing behind us as one of the cops kicked at my feet, forcing me to stand and walk with them.

“She assaulted him! It’s the least she deserves!” Mr. Bernard replied to his daughter.

“Dad, it’s just a bloody nose! I’m fine! Just let her go!”

That was certainly a surprise. It was the first time I heard Jordan show any type of courage. Even after I burnt his things and punched him, he wanted to help me.

“Maeven, it’s gonna be fine! I’ll call your mom!”

“What?! No!” I turned to Emily as the cops pushed me into the back of the car. “She’ll kill me! Call my Dad!”

“I don’t have his number!”

“Fuck! Okay, just. . .just don’t worry about it, Em. Okay?” I yelled through the glass. “Don’t call anyone. I’ll call him when I get there.”

As they drove me away to the station, I wasn’t certain of it, but I thought I could see Jordan mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ to me. I shut my eyes and did my best to put my mind anywhere else but here. I wasn’t being arrested. This wasn’t happening. I was with my Dad and my sister in the woods. We were having fun. Everything was fine. It felt like heaven.

That trick never worked, but I still try it to this day.

A week later, I found my box of stuff returned to me on the front steps of my house, along with a note I didn’t have the strength to read. Jordan was officially the bigger person in this equation.

. . .

Without his morning cup of coffee, Jim Hopper couldn’t comprehend the busy sounds of the police station; the ringing of the phones, Flo’s daily notifications about his upcoming meetings, and the occasional pats on his back for just being present before noon. The small coffee machine was a gift from God, he convinced himself. A sip from the strong, fresh-brewed cup of coffee melted away all his sleep deprivation, muscle tension, and lingering hangover; as well as the headache from taking care of a certain little girl whom he shared his cabin with.

Taking a seat at his desk, his vision cleared and focused as he stared into his cup as he added his desired amount of sugar and a splash of the thick creamer. Hopper faced the tower of manilla folders, stacked as high as they could go without tipping over. He flipped open the folder on top before being interrupted by a rapid knock at the door.

“What?” he groaned out. There was never a moment of peace around here.

“Well, good morning to you, too, Hop. Or should I say ‘afternoon?’” Flo let out a laugh. She flopped yet another Manilla file on his desk right in front of him, almost tipping over his coffee. The digital clock on his desk read 3:26 PM in red letters.

“Flo, why would you do that? Can you seriously not see the big stack right next to me?” he whined, palming his face and rubbing his eyes with both hands. Flo rolled her eyes.

“This might just be my personal opinion, Hop, but if you didn’t spend most nights drinking and your mornings nursing your hangovers, maybe that damn stack wouldn’t be as tall as the Empire State Building,” she retorted back at him, hand on her hip.

“You’ve never been out of Hawkins, Flo. How do you know how big the Empire State Building is?”

“Just read the damn file, smartass. It’s the most recent one, anyway. You got a meeting with them in about a half hour, so study up.” Flo had worked with him long enough to know he needed a playfully harsh nudge to get his ass going in the morning. She wasn’t gonna let him get off that easy after showing up late and only working for a couple of hours. And Hopper thought it was the coffee that did it.

Before strutting her way out of his office, she turned to him once more for a final note. “Also, you’re four o’clock is running behind, so don’t expect to be out of here before five tonight, you big oaf,” Flo added, one hand on the doorknob while the other pushed up her glasses. Hopper softly banged his head against the top of his desk in response, pointing to the hot cup of coffee in his fist.

“You want this open or closed?” she laughed out.

“Closed.”

Flo left the door halfway open; a compromise.

The Chief picked his head up and let out a long and therapeutic groan, blindly opening the folder in front of him. He kept his eyes closed for a short moment of calm to officially prepare himself for the rest of the day, however long that ended up being. The contents of the now open file caught his eye, as it was faxed to him all the way from San Diego. How did someone end up in the back-forty of Indiana from the busy city streets in California?

Margaret Maeven Mayfield, it read, a month away from turning eighteen. Hopper could’ve sworn he had heard ‘Mayfield’ somewhere before. It sounded like a distantly blurred name of someone from his military days. Now wide awake, he actually took his time to thoroughly read it in all its details instead of just skimming over the fine print to get each case knocked out as soon as possible. ‘Maeven’ was certainly a unique choice for a middle name. He wondered what it meant.

Despite being reported as being intimidatingly smart and well-behaved by all the staff at her old school and the San Diego police, Margaret had made quite the case for herself as a rebel. Her first arrest was when she was fifteen. The charges, in order, were Domestic Violence, Destruction of Property, Drug Possession, Vandalism, Public Indecency, Public Intoxication, Assault, Inciting a Riot, and Manslaughter. What was even more enticing was that most of all these charges were dropped against the girl, and she was sentenced to community service instead of jail time. Apparently, she was very enthusiastic about her punishment and was rewarded for her work by the community. Who does that? Certainly, not anyone Hopper knows.

Her mugshot emanated an unsettling tone of both heartbreak and terror. She was randomly splashed with blood as she held her name up in front of her, her eyes sunken in. They were dark, both in and under, but still wide as if she had just come face-to-face with the devil himself. She looked so scared. Margaret had a past as wild as Hopper’s entire life had been, and she hadn’t even finished High School yet; expelled from School after her assault, a history of fighting and drug problems, and three months in an In-Patient Mental Institution was enough to grab anyone’s attention, let alone a Police Officer’s. 

He knew appearances could be deceiving, but the known victim and suspected criminal looked nothing more than a scared little kid. It reminded Hopper of the Munson boy; practically stolen after his mother’s overdose, both done by the hands of his father, Al Munson. Poor little Eddie just got dealt the wrong cards and had no choice but to accept his place in society as the future resident burnout, both put in place and enforced by the league soccer moms in Hawkins. Hopper wasn’t sure any kid deserved that, even if Munson and Maeven weren’t really kids, anymore. How could someone so young and full of life be accused of so many horrific things?

Jim let his mind wander for a moment back to the times when he himself was a dumb teenager who didn’t know any better. Under the young girl’s circumstances, he could definitely see how and why wrongful accusations could be made against her. He saw himself in the file; a misunderstood kid from the other side of town guilty of nothing but defying their ‘destiny’ and tainting their reputation as a straight-laced good kid. In small towns like Hawkins, you cross a certain street and it’s like a whole other world; divided between the shabby cabins and trailer parks with the so-called ‘town bums’ and the suburbian paradise the soccer moms and their nuclear families shielded themselves within.

The ringing of the phone interrupts Hopper’s thoughts, and he’s suddenly now aware of how he’s been studying the Mayfield file for so long that the red digits on the clock suddenly read 4:32 PM. He huffed out a long sigh before picking up the phone and pressing it to his ear.

“What d'ya got for me, Flo?”

“Mrs. Hargrove and her daughter are here. Should I send ‘em in, or are you still nursing that hangover?”

“Yeah, yeah, send ‘em down. . .smartass.”

. . .

Maeven missed her long hair.

As a child, she wanted nothing more than to have what she, Max, and her parents dubbed ‘princess hair.’ Rapunzel was always her favorite, and she had complained multiple times that the Walt Disney Company was yet to make a movie about her. But she always pictured herself being a wild princess who runs through the woods with leaves and twigs in her hair.

It took her a while to learn how to properly take care of it. She was always so sad when it had to be cut shorter; a result of her failed attempts to grow it out ending in a barrage of too many tangles and knots. After a few too many cuts than she was comfortable with, Maeven finally grew old and patient enough to settle into a good hair-care routine when she was around ten years old.

She loved having so many ways to flaunt her wavy red locks; ponytails, pigtails, braids, and buns. But her favorite way to wear it was to just let it flow down past her shoulders, below her breasts, stopping at the small of her back, so wild and free. Maeven loved the way her partners stroked or tugged on it whenever she was intimate with them. Billy once told her when he fucked her on his lap that running his hands through her hair felt like he was touching the setting sun. 

Having Maeven’s hair draped across his body like a silk curtain was one of the only places he felt truly safe. Of course, he had never admitted it aloud to her. It was partially to keep up his tough reputation, but he also didn’t feel like he needed to tell her. Maeven already knew, he could tell. She was always good at reading him.

Maeven’s hair was always the first thing people noticed about her. It was the first thing they noticed about Max and their Mom, too. Besides the blue eyes and the freckles, it was the Mayfield ladies’ defining feature. It was why everyone was so disappointed when she cut it all off so suddenly. One night last February, she woke up from yet another nightmare, a flashback, that someone chased her, hunted her down like a wild animal, and caught her by her hair.

New Year's Eve, 1983 ruined a lot of things for her; parties, drugs, nighttime, and outside, just to name a few. But the worst part of it was no longer feeling safe in her own body. It was the feeling that she was no longer safe being herself. So, acting on sheer impulse and instinct, Maeven took the sewing shears from her mother’s craft room and hastily cut off her long ginger locks until her hair ended up choppy, just below her ears. 

She wasn’t sure if she should’ve felt sad at what she had done to herself, or feel relieved now that the cause of her paranoia was severed from her head. All she did know was that she had one less thing to worry about; one less thing that people liked to take advantage of. She didn’t want to be hunted, anymore. She was a little bit safer. . .for now, Even though her emotions weren’t certain, she still cried her eyes out that night.

After letting it grow a bit and finally evening it out, Maeven did her best to embrace her new look. She just decided that she wasn’t going to look at herself in the bathroom mirror unless she absolutely had to brush her hair or put on makeup. It was easier that way; less painful. As the cold, autumn wind passed through Hawkins and made the back of her neck chill that she missed her former length the most. It helped that she never needed a scarf in the winter, as she could always use her hair to cover her neck.

Maeven scratched the back of her neck, running her fingertips over her hairline and short fuzz to soothe herself. She twirled her short locks around her finger and pulled hard; a not-so-healthy way to cure her boredom and keep her anxiety occupied. It was times like this she regretted cutting away her hair the most. The times when she wanted nothing more than to hide her face behind her firey red locks and just sink into herself. 

She had slowly gotten used to the constant presence of police since her first arrest at fifteen and all the times that followed afterward. Whatever name you give them, cops, police, pigs, dicks, every officer of the law was different in their own way. Maeven had met maybe a handful of them who actually seemed concerned for her well-being and genuinely wanted to help her. That didn’t make their looming presence any less threatening to her. More often than not, they were the kind to attack first and ask questions later. 

Since being discharged from inpatient psychiatric treatment, Maeven did her hardest to appear non-threatening and be on her best behavior, especially around the police. She steered clear of them. Even though she tended to steer clear of everyone these days, she avoided confrontation with police especially. With all the charges that had been brought against her in the years following her first arrest, Maeven knew that whatever was on her permanent record, it wasn’t a flattering portrayal.

The treatment program she went to maybe have helped her with a lot of her many mental issues, but Maeven still felt broken. Even if she recovered, she didn’t feel quite like a human again, and she secretly wished she could just change. It didn’t matter what or who. Honestly? She wouldn’t mind being a rock or a dying star, an animal or an insect. It wasn’t important to her. All that mattered was that she wouldn’t feel like this; being a human was a messy, painful merry-go-round of inconsistencies. It wasn’t worth it, anymore.

Maeven wasn’t sure exactly what was keeping her alive. She felt it getting stronger once they moved to Hawkins, and she was determined to find it. But, for now, her life would just be a mundane and painful routine of various medications, her many coping skills that ranged from healthy to unhealthy, visits with cops and therapists, and trying to stop herself from getting in her own way. It was working. . .slowly. But that's the thing about healing; it isn’t always linear.

She didn’t even hear the receptionist call to her and her mom until she felt her grab her hand in an attempt to bring her daughter along to, . .

“Wait. . .where are we again?” Maeven thought allowed, not even realizing it until her mom looked at her with wide eyes, a mixture of disappointment and concern. It hurt to look at.

“The Police Station, Maevey. You have a meeting, remember?”

Maeven said nothing, her brain still catching up with the rest of the world and the concept of time. She dug her sharply manicured nails into her palms, taking a moment to swallow her anxiety down before smiling and nodding at her mom.

“That’s right,” Maeven silently remembered. After the tour of the school, Neil dropped her and Susan off at the police station. Billy took Max to the arcade and he was no doubt killing time by using the back roads of Hawkins like his own personal race track.

“You were disassociating again, bitch,” the voice scolded.

As her mom gently tugged her along toward the Chief’s office, Maeven felt like the world around her was growing smaller. Technically it was; the walls narrowed as Susan led her down the hallway from the front desk. It wasn’t long at all, or even that narrow. But that’s how it felt.

Susan Hargrove, on the other hand, walked in front of her daughter like she owned the place. Another flaw of Neil’s that rubbed off on her. Maeven wasn’t sure if she should feel scared or safe. She hadn’t felt like she needed her mom’s guidance and protection since she was little. Were either of the Mayfield women themselves, anymore?

Her mom stood halfway through the threshold of the Chief’s office as Maeven mentally prepared herself to remain calm in front of him. This man had access to her file; a collection of her worst moments where she was decided to be bad by people who didn’t know her. He had the power to use everything in that file to make her life worse if he wanted to. It all depended on his impression of her, on whether or not she can do a good job convincing him that she wasn’t the person those documents painted her as.

“I take it you’re Mrs. . .Hargrove? I thought it was ‘Mayfield?’”

“That was my last husband’s name, Mr. Hopper. I remarried this year,” Susan promptly corrected him. Hopper’s eyebrows raised as his eyes narrowed.

“Another Suburban Soccer Mom. Go figure,” he thought to himself.

“Alright, then. C’mon in and have a seat, ladies. I don’t bite,” Hopper gestured to the chairs facing his desk.

“Yeah. You might not bite. But what about you, Maevey?”

Maeven didn’t acknowledge the voice this time but crossed her arms around her middle to hug herself. 

She rounded the corner and looked at the Chief. Hopper looked like someone her dad would get along with. Not the sleazy, sexist drunk ones who hovered around him in San Francisco. Out of his police garb, Maeven predicted that he’d be someone’s dad or cool uncle who takes you fishing or cooks you a classic American breakfast. She took a seat next to her mother in her matching leather office chair. The urge to play with and pick at the tears and cracks was annoyingly strong.

Maeven sat so that both her hands were tucked under both her legs, hidden underneath her skirt. She didn’t want her mom to draw any more unnecessary attention to her fidgeting. That was embarrassing.

Hopper couldn’t help but stare at the nervous girl in front of him. She was definitely smaller than he expected, maybe because of the way she carried herself as if she was trying to disappear. No matter how many years he had under his belt as an officer, the cases that involved kids never got easier. In fact, they had only gotten more difficult in the last year. Between Will going missing in a whole nother goddamn dimension and suddenly becoming a parent to a girl again, Jim had a lot to adjust to, lately. And it seemed like he certainly wasn’t the only one.

This girl was too impossibly young to know grief this large. Yet, here she sits in front of him. And even if her files were up to date, Jim had his doubts. He knew that looks could be deceiving, but Margaret Mayfield didn’t look or act like a criminal, much less a bad person. There was just no way.

“So. . .what brings you in today?”

For once, Maeven decided not to count the stains on the carpet or the scratches on the Chief’s desk. Not that she wanted to talk to him, but she just didn’t want to be silent and awkward anymore. In the past, the cops she dealt with before interpreted her silence as a threat, or a confession of her guilt. And she left the school tour feeling oddly confident after meeting Nancy and Steve.

Of course, her mother just had to speak for her. 

“My husband called in and spoke with your receptionist, Flora, to make sure you got my daughter’s file from Captain Daly down in San Diego. We just moved here, and we wanna make sure she has a. . .a good relationship with the law enforcement here so that she hopefully doesn’t repeat her past mistakes,” she explained, finishing with a smile on her face.

Susan grew a little too used to assuming Maeven’s feelings. It was fine at the beginning when she at least asked for her permission via a silent nod, but it was more often than not that she just took over and micromanaged the conversation.

“Well, now she just has to pay. Go on, now.”

“No, no, no. Please just stop. Please.”

It took a moment for Jim to process what just happened. He didn’t blame Susan’s daughter for looking at her the way she did, with such frustration and annoyance as she bounced her leg. The psychiatric evaluation in her file did say she suffered from anxiety. Hopper wouldn’t be surprised if this girl listed her mother as a stressor.

“Y’know, I’d actually prefer to speak with Margaret alone, if you wouldn’t minds, Mrs. Hargrove?”

The very thought of her mother leaving the room for a little while lowered the tenseness in Maeven’s shoulders and the air suddenly return to her lungs. She tried not to let it show too much, though. Her mother developed a tendency to notice the little changes whenever her mood fluctuated. No matter how infuriating Susan acted sometimes, the thought of hurting her feelings still broke the young girl’s heart to think about. It was both an impressive and scary hidden talent, like a lighthouse with a giant eye as the light.

“Maybe you should sketch that. It’d look cool,” the voice suggested. Maeven fought the urge to reach for her sketchbook. She could already see the picture in her mind’s eye.

Susan paused for a moment as she processed the Chief’s request.

“Oh. . .sure! Of course! No problem, I. . .” Susan stood up from the chair and placed her hand gently on her daughter’s shoulder. “I’ll just be waiting outside, okay?” she reassured, her eyes turning sad when she looked at her.

Maeven blinked away her idea for a moment to give her mom a half-smile. 

“It’s okay, Mom. I’m fine,” she replied, her hand squeezing, then brushing her hand off her shoulder. Susan nodded before walking to the door.

“And it’s Flo, by the way. Not ‘Flora,’” Hop made sure to mention before she had a chance to close the door on her way out.

“Yes. . .of course,” Susan stuttered as she closed the office door. The silence that filled the room after it slammed wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable for once. In fact, it was oddly freeing.

“Thanks. I, uh. . .thank you,” Maeven squeaked out as she fidgeted with her hands just itching to reach for her backpack.

“No problem, kid,” Hopper chuckled before continuing. “My wife was the same way with me and my daughter. She just worries.”

Maeven said nothing, but nodded in understanding, making eye contact with the Chief for about two seconds before turning back to her lap. Hopper could already see that his theory about her being misunderstood in her reports proved to be correct already.

“So, Margaret. Or do you go by ‘Maggie?’” he asked

“No one calls me that,” she said softly. “It’s Maeven.”

Hopper’s eyes darted back to her file just out of her sight.

“Oh, your middle name. Alright. Sorry,” he reassured. But, again, Maeven said nothing.

“Okay, then. Well, welcome to Hawkins, first of all. You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s okay,” she muttered, bouncing her right leg while swinging the left.

“It takes a little getting used to,” Jim mentioned, continuing his attempt to coax this girl out of her shell. He couldn’t help her if she didn’t talk to him.

“Mmm-hmm. . .” Maeven nodded.

The Chief exhaled loudly through his nose in contemplation, suddenly noticing that her eyes were darting back and forth between her fidgeting hands and her backpack. What did she have in there that was so important? According to her file, Maeven could be nervous about drugs in her bag. Her behavior was, after all, common for a druggie, but Hopper didn’t think that to be the case. Still, he treads lightly.

“I see you eyeing your bag, there. Do you need something?”

Maeven’s eyes darted back to him for longer, this time, her demeanor that of a cornered animal unsure how to react.

“Sorry. Do you mind if I draw?” she asked, shaking her head as if to bring her back to herself.

“Draw? Why?” he asked.

“It, uhm. . .it helps with my restlessness and keeps me focused,” Maeven fumbled to explain herself, almost defensive about her hobby. Hopper shrugged.

“If you promise to answer my questions, I got no problem,” he admitted. He really didn’t care, just a little confused.

She gave him a soft smile before immediately reaching for her bag and pulling out a black sketchbook and a small pouch of pencils, pens, and markers. Swiftly, she turned to a fresh page and pulled out a red colored pencil.

“. . .thank you,” she muttered before getting to work.

“So. . .I got a call from Captain Daly all the way out in San Diego, and he filled me in on your. . .recent situation,” Hopper explained, pausing every so often to observe Maeven’s movements as she sketched. The way her hands moved the pencil across the page was random, both erratic and calm with no clear order or pattern, but still had a sort of rhythm. 

“Apparently, you had quite a reputation with your school and the law back over in California?”

At the mention of her past, Maeven’s drawing hand came to a dead stop, as if her mind was somewhere else and had to adjust to his words in her own way.

“He knows, Maeven. He knows how insane you are. One toe out of line and he’ll have you sent to an asylum. And you know what’ll happen then, right? You’ll never be seen again.”

“. . .yeah, I guess so,” Maeven admitted, trying her best to swallow her obvious fear of Daly before going back to her sketch. She had finished the basic outline of the lighthouse from a bottom perspective, continuing to draw a giant, graphic eyeball in place of the searchlight.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too proud about it,” Jim observed.

“I’m not. I never was,” she defended, moving on from the iris to the veins. “I’m the complete opposite, actually.”

She brought the leg she was once swinging up to sit on the chair, almost melting into it. He chuckled softly. Now she was starting to act like a kid her age should.

“Do me a favor and keep your boots off my chair, Maeven.”

He wouldn’t have said anything if he knew that the girl would suddenly switch moods and sit the way a mother would nag her child to.

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, sir,” she apologized.

Hopper mentally scolded himself. She was just started to get comfortable with him and he had to go and ruin it with his big mouth and closed-minded understanding of manners.

“Have you dealt with a lot of law enforcement before, kid?”

“I. . .I don’t have any intention of causing any trouble, Officer, I promise.”

It was clear to him now that Maeven didn’t have an ideal relationship with cops. No doubt due to Captain Daly and his officers. Some of the reports of arrests in her file indicated that she fought(as any other kid would do in her situation) and the officers weren’t exactly.

“It sounds like Captain Daly gave you some hard times. I’m not gonna blame an officer for doing his job, handling your investigation.”

“I know. I don’t either. I know I wasn’t the. . .easiest person to handle,” she confessed, now sketching slowly, moving on to add the details of the lighthouse.

Her attitude toward the situation was delightfully humble, but just as depressing. It was always tragic to see someone so young also filled with so much pain. Jim turned back to her file and skimmed over a couple more pages that mentioned how she gradually started getting into more and more fights throughout the second semester of her failed Junior Year.

“It says here that you’ve had some. . .bad luck with others. And that you’ve dealt with behavioral issues. But you’re on medication now and have been managing your impulses.”

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded, not looking up from her page.

“That’s not something to be proud of, Maeven. You shouldn’t have to rely on pills to keep from hurting yourself and fucking everything with a heartbeat.” the voice scolded in her ear. 

“I don’t do that,” she argued against it, shaking her head free of those thoughts.

Hopper looked at her list of medications on her medical records, including the trials and tribulations of finding the right pills that worked for her. It couldn’t have felt too good to have to take that many pills so often.

“So. . .why don’t you tell me what happened, Maeven? Tell me about yourself,” he suggested as she relaxed her shoulders and continued to sketch. Jim didn’t want to pry. Even if it’d been a while since her incident and recovery process, she was still clearly fragile about it.

Maeven shrugged as she finished coloring the red roof of the lighthouse.

“What is there to know? You have my file. You know exactly what I am,” she pouted. It was strange to Jim that she could switch from being a mature young lady to a frustrated child so easily and quickly.

“No. I can’t really say I do,” he gently argued with her. After pausing to take a look at her sketch so far, Maeven shut her book, tapping and scratching her nails against the cover.

“Look, I know that I haven’t made a lot of good choices in the last few years. I know I’m pretty crazy, too. And I know that’s not an excuse and you have no reason to believe me, Sir, but I’m very sorry and I don’t wanna get in any kind of trouble again, and I-”

The longer she talked, the more discombobulated her movements became, and the more frantic and anxious Maeven appeared to Hopper. Her leg shakes as the tapping of her nails on her notebook turned more rapid. It became clearer to him that when Mr. Hargrove called in to say this girl was extremely fragile, he wasn’t kidding.

“Woah, okay. Just calm down, kid. Enough with the formalities,” Hopper held out his hands as he spoke as if trying to show an abused house pet that he meant no harm; the act made Maeven suddenly realized she needed to breathe in between sentences. 

“Stop calling me ‘sir,’ Maeven. ‘Makes me feel like a Grandpa,” he laughed, holding out his hand as he awaited a shake. “It’s Hopper. Jim Hopper. My friends call me ‘Hop.’”

“Okay, uhmm. . .Thank you, si-I mean Hop,” she tripped over her words as she accepted his offer for a friendly handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Miss Mayfield.”

It had been a while since Maeven interacted with an adult this way; just a casual, friendly interaction between two fellow adults. The chief’s handshake was firm with respect and emanated a familiar warmth. It reminded her of her Dad.

“Don’t worry. I won’t make too big a deal about this. I won’t let your troubles follow you into Hawkins if that’s what you want. But that also depends on you and your choices from here on out, you understand?”

“I do, yes,” Maeven smiled, feeling a small sense of pride that she thought died on New Year’s.

“Thought so. You seem like a smart kid. Took a look at your grades from Newport. Said you almost broke some record at their school for scoring so high on the SATs.”

“Yeah. . .it’s not that big of a deal,” she laughed, humbling herself again as she looked down at her tapping nails on her sketchbook.

“It is in Hawkins, kid. Trust me,” Hopper playfully argued. He wasn’t exactly wrong, either. Even back when he went to High School, a lot of his graduating class was made up of jackasses that didn’t know their ass from their elbow. The more academic ones ended up leaving Hawkins for better opportunities. Joyce could’ve been one of those people, too. But she was happy where she was. That was the kind of future he knew Maeven could reach. She was too good for this place.

 “Not a lot of our kids have that kind of potential. I’m sure you’re gonna be fine,” he finished.

Maeven wanted to accept his compliment, but the voice inside her wouldn’t let her. 

“He’s lying to you. He’s just trying to be nice,” it taunted, disguising it as a warning, she was sure.

“So, we both know what your file says. But I wanna hear it firsthand. You wanna tell me about what happened to you?”

Again, Maeven could only speculate what was in that manilla folder. She remembered a meeting with Captain Daly and her mother where he slammed her case file on the table of the interrogation room. She couldn’t bare to look at it. It was painful enough watching Susan read it through the gasps and sobs. She was sure that reading it herself would tear her very soul apart more than it already had been.

“He already knows. Stop buying pointless time and just get it over with. It’ll be easier.”

Chief Hopper wasn’t Captain Daly, though. He wasn’t like any of the other police she dealt with in the past. The ones who blamed her for her fate and tried to turn her into the villain. The ones who didn’t hesitate to draw their weapons on her when they found her bleeding and begging for help in the forest.

No. Hopper was different. Maeven knew he couldn’t fully comprehend what she went through. She lived through what most people would find unimaginable. But Hopper at least had more empathy and a sense of emotional intelligence than any cop she’d crossed paths with.

“Uhm. . .I’d rather not, if that’s okay? Not yet, at least.” she asked, hoping her instincts were right, switching from tapping her sketchbook to scratching the back of her hands

Hopper frowned at the sight. Maeven’s nails were so sharp that her hands were red and threatening to break out in blood.

“I get it,” Hopper said to her. “It’s the first meeting. You’re a little on edge. I have you back here next Sunday, right?”

At the sound of his voice, Maeven ceased her scratching.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded, letting out a sigh of relief at his understanding. Hopper returned her nod before handing her a slip of paper he had just signed; a weekly attendance sheet that she would eventually show to her mom and Neil so they’d know she was ‘improving.’ She would probably get another one from the school counselor tomorrow.

“Just focus on getting yourself adjusted to Hawkins for the next seven days and then we can talk about your. . .situation,” Jim told her, once again treading lightly.

“I can do that,” Maeven agreed, tucking the piece of paper beneath the cover of her sketchbook.

“Alright, kid. You’re dismissed,” the chief said with a small wave of his hand. “Besides, I’m sure your mom’s probably anxious not having you around,” he joked, sure of himself that he wasn’t overexaggerating.

Maeven slipped her book and pencils back into her backpack before zipping it shut, scrambling out of her seat as she walked towards the door and pulled the knob. Before exiting, she took one last look at the Chief, still glancing at her file.

“Officer Hopper?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. I. . .I really appreciate it,” she stuttered out.

“Anytime, Maeven,” Jim smiled back at her. As he watched her leave his office, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the little girl who awaited his return at his cabin in the woods. El and Maeven would get along well.

. . .

A/N: Sorry for the delay in this chapter coming out. I had to split it up so it wouldn't be too long. That doesn't necessarily mean that I don't like writing chapters at a longer length, but 20-25 pages is my comfort zone. I usually start by just outlining a chapter with all the dialogue I want to include and build the actions and descriptions around that.

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! The next one shouldn't take as long as this one did as I already have all the dialogue written out for it. I'm writing both chapters five and six at once. Please be sure to leave some kudos and comments, as they are my lifeblood and are incredibly helpful whenever I need inspiration. I'm glad that people seem to be resonating with Maeven. She's definitely the hardest I've worked on when it comes to all the characters I've created over the years.

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#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #the spitfire curse #stranger things fanfic #stranger things oc #maeven mayfield #max mayfield #billy hargrove #jim hopper #el hopper #st fandom #stranger things fandom #billy hargrove x reader #the party #scoops troop #hellfire club #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson #2023

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I posted 7,777 times in 2022

That's 4,174 more posts than 2021!

1,135 posts created (15%)

6,642 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 2,761 of my posts in 2022

#shanart - 79 posts

#drawing - 56 posts

#fantasyland theme park universe - 50 posts

#fnaf - 33 posts

#hermitcraft - 31 posts

#fallen london - 21 posts

#iswm spoilers - 20 posts

#oc: evie anderson - 18 posts

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#inktober - 15 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#also bela lugosi was so so sooooo sexy so like yeah he was a romantic figure and many people were like 👀👀👀👀 and the kinky vamp stuff

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

100 hours in hardcore Scar lived like a toon and died like a toon (wandering blithely over deathtraps above dangerous chasms for ages only to ironically explode in an act of exuberant hubris a single minute into his triumphant return). RIP in peace you silly little jester 💚

222 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#4

TSP narrator in bed with stanley like "ah yes. Me, my husband, and his 2.5 gallon stainless steel emotional support bucket"

233 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

#3

Can't wait for my bestie jonathan to encounter dracula's three weed smoking girlfriends

411 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

#2

Honestly i do feel like skincare is sometimes low key the substitute for virtuous self-maintenance sold to people who reject diet/weight loss culture, and it does creep me out that so many products are snake oil that either does nothing/the same as the cheapest version with the same active ingredient OR actively makes your skin worse and perpetuates a cycle of using new products to fix the damage done by the previous ones. But that's just my little conspiracy theory

702 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I think it's pretty important overall for me to keep sharing stuff about being aro even if it makes other people like. A little uncomfortable. A little weirded out. A little unsettled by experiences that aren't relatable (or they aren't ready to admit are relatable). A little exhausted with new vocabulary and new ways of thinking. A little confronted by ways they've thoughtlessly said things that might cut into targets that they didn't know they were hitting.

It's not necessarily an easily consumable thing. Discomfort was so necessary for my journey in coming to terms with it all. I kept it in the dark as new things started to wash in and i could decide if i related to them and if they meant anything to me, and i feel like it's one of the more useful things i can do for other people to provide them the same space for contemplation.

1,007 notes - Posted March 23, 2022

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[queenshelby]

DRAMA TEACHER – PART ONE

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Divorce, Broken Relationship, Mention of Abuse

Words: 3,567

***New to Dublin***

It has been several weeks since you moved from the UK to Dublin to start a new life with your son Lucas who recently turned 16.

You left an abusive relationship and finally filed for divorce. Nonetheless, Lucas blamed you for everything even for the fact that his father wasn’t allowed to see him until the court orders have been finalised due to his addictions and history of violence.

Lucas hated the fact that he was now attending a new school and, just after two days, he was getting himself into trouble for smoking weed on school premises.

Despite this, you enjoyed your new job as a drama teacher and had recently suggested to the director of the school that it would be fantastic for the children who enrolled into your extra curriculum arts program to participate in an actual play in front of their families and the teachers of the school.

‘What do you think about it Adam?’ you asked. Adam was the school principal and your friend since high school. He always had a crush on you, but never admitted it. It wasn’t until recently that he finally asked you for a date, an offer which you declined since you were working with him on a daily basis.

‘Sure, if you think the students are willing and able to put in this kind of effort, why not?’ Adam said, allowing you to take charge of the extra curriculum drama activities as you see fit. He was just glad to have you on board after the last drama and literature teacher employed by the school was a disaster.

‘I have about six students in two of my classes who seem to be very talented and I think it would be beneficial for them to build up the confidence they need if they want to pursue a career in acting’ you explained before giving Adam the names of the six students.

‘Perhaps you can suggest it to their parents?’ you then went on to say and Adam agreed.

Three weeks later, you got notice from Adam advising you that five out of the six students wish to participate in the program but, in order to be signed off by the board, you would need to find five more students and a volunteer parent to assist you with any work that is to be conducted outside school premises due to regulations imposed by the board.

‘You’ve got anyone in mind?’ you asked.

‘Actually, one of the parents has offered and I think he would be a good fit as he is a well-known actor and has had several stage performances himself’ Adam explained.

‘I assume you are talking about Hendrix and Charlie’s dad?’ you asked, remembering having met him a few times already at pick up on Wednesdays and every second Friday.

‘Yes, Cillian Murphy’ Adam said before continuing on ‘Cillian mentioned that he’s got no engagements for the next three months, so I suggest you talk to him’ Adam suggested.

‘Alright. So, do you know each other since you are on first name basis?’ you asked surprised.

‘Yes, for a matter of fact, I do. His brother is married to my sister. We occasionally have a few drinks. He is easy going. You will get along just fine’ Adam said.

‘Alright, I will talk to him then. Thanks Adam’ you said before quickly leaving Adam’s office.

Adam had recently made yet another attempt to ask for a date which you pushed back on, which meant that you tried to engage in as little small talk as possible.

***Interested in Someone Else***

The following Wednesday, when Cillian picked up his boys from school, you approached him. You felt somewhat uncomfortable about it, knowing that he was probably overqualified for this task. But, he had offered and there was no one else who you thought could do a better job with the students than someone like him, someone with experience.

‘Uhm, Mr Murphy, do you have a minute?’ you asked as he was trying to get his sons to pack up their bags while they were too busy fighting with each other once again. They both were very creative, but also very messy and constantly argued.

‘Oh no…what did they do?’ he chuckled as he pulled Hendrix’s bag apart looking for the rest of the mandarin peel which Charlie had stuffed in there just seconds ago to get under Hendrix’s skin.

‘Jesus Hendrix’ he huffed as he found three empty chocolate wrappers instead and put them into the bin.

‘Sorry Miss L/N, you have my attention now…you were saying?’ he chuckled

‘The boys are great, really well behaved’ you said as you noticed that Cillian looked at you with concern, thinking his sons were in trouble.

‘Really? I find that hard to believe’ he laughed before telling them off again for fighting with each other.

‘I have spoken to our principal, Mr Walsh, and he mentioned that you would be willing to get involved in the drama project as a volunteer. In order to get it approved by our board, I would need one parent to volunteer’ you explained shyly.

‘That’s right, so long as it is within the next three months. After that I will be in the US for a few months for work’ Cillian explained just before the boys interrupted him.

‘I assume that’s what the beard is for?’ you grinned, having noticed that it has slowly been growing longer and longer over the past few weeks.

‘Unfortunately’ he laughed, running one of his hands over his stubble just as Charlie came over and interrupted him.

‘Seriously Dad? Do you know how embarrassing this will be for us if you are working with Miss L/N?’ Charlie huffed.

‘Yes, Charlie wants to impress Nadine Seymour and you are really going to ruin it’ Hendrix teased, causing Charlie to nudge him

‘No fighting and no girlfriends! Understood?’ Cillian chuckled before inviting you for a coffee on Friday after school so that you can discuss the drama program.

You gladly accepted Cillian’s invitation, much to his sons’ disappointment.

‘Are you having a date with our teacher? That’s so disgusting’ you then heard Hendrix say as Cillian was walking off with them.

***Two Weeks Later***

Two weeks later, your drama project was in full swing and you had decided to allow the students to practise their play at a real theatre in Dublin once per week when Cillian was available.

You and Cillian got along well and his boys continuously teased him about hanging out with their teacher. But there was nothing awkward between you until, one day, you engaged into some deeper conversation while none of the children were around.

Cillian had found out about your son’s problems at school. His boys had told him about Lucas’s reputation and, over a few hours and a few beers following theatre practise, you opened up to him about your divorce and your relationship with Lucas’s father.

You didn’t know why you told him, but you enjoyed his company. He was a good listener and he was quite reserved and private which made you trust him.

But, over the following week, you started to enjoy his company a little too much. He certainly was an attractive man and, by what you could tell, a fantastic father. He seemed perfect and you knew you shouldn’t fantasise about him the way you did over that past week.

This was easier said than done. He had everything your ex lacked. He was patient, kind and empathetic. You enjoyed working with him and your son soon noticed, giving you a hard time about it soon enough.

To your surprise, after about three weeks of working together and following the last practise, Cillian took matters a little further than you had expected and, after all the kids had left and his boys had been picked up by their mother, Cillian asked you whether you wanted to have dinner with him some time.

You politely declined his offer, explaining to him that you weren’t ready to start dating and that sure felt like a date to you.

That same night, you regretted your decision after talking to your sister about it. You trusted your sister with everything and you encouraged you to give him a chance.

You were afraid to develop feeling, to let anyone to your life, but you were of the view that you must learn how to trust before you can love again.

‘Does your dinner offer still stand?’ you texted Cillian that night, hoping that he would reply quickly to your message.

‘It sure does’ Cillian texted back within seconds.

‘Pick me up at 6 o’clock tomorrow? Lucas is having a sleep over at a friend’s place’ you responded.

‘6 o’clock it is’ Cillian texted back.  

***Date Night***

The following evening, Cillian picked you up at 6 o’clock as promised and, after complimenting your outfit, which was a black buttoned dress, you both got into his car and drove into Dublin’s city centre.

‘So where are you taking me?’ you asked somewhat shyly and Cillian was quick to hand you a pamphlet.

‘A theatre?’ you asked surprised.

‘Sort of. It is a restaurant in the arts district where you can watch pop up shows during the drama festival. It’s contemporary, but you might spot some real good talent there’ Cillian explained and your excitement was growing.

His idea was very thoughtful and you appreciated the fact that this wasn’t going to be your average Italian restaurant date.

Over dinner you and Cillian talked a lot about your lives, your relationships and your children while watching the most interesting people perform the most interesting short plays. Some of them were real pieces of art and the performers put an immense effort into their performance and costumes.

After about two hours, Cillian offered to drive you home and you gladly accepted his offer.

‘Uhm would you like to come up for a drink?’ you asked as you arrived at your apartment building.

‘Sure, yes, why not’ Cillian said before turning off his car and following you to your apartment.

But the drink never eventuated and, as soon as you opened the door to your apartment, Cillian’s lips were on yours.

‘Fuck I am sorry Y/N’ Cillian said, pulling back quite quickly as he realised that things were probably moving too fast for you after what you had told him a few days ago.

‘No, don’t. I want this’ you reassured him, your voice quiet and your eyes fierce before pressing your lips back onto his.

‘For once, I want to feel like a real woman. I want to be desired... loved, I want to know what this feels like’ you said as you could see the fire in his eyes as you slowly dragged him into your bedroom.

He stepped forward then, tilting your chin up with his finger, brushing his lips over yours, and allowing his tongue to caress your lower lip. Your body shook softly as you melted into his embrace, your lips parting, granting access to Cillian's tongue, which immediately snaked into your mouth and embarked on a search for yours.

You sighed softly, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against Cillian's torso. The kiss was deep, passionate and almost immediately took your breath away. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, stoking the fire already burning deep within your body. When Cillian finally released you from his embrace you were left panting and wanting more.

‘You are beautiful, you know that?’ Cillian whispered as he started unbuttoning the black dress that draped so alluringly across your breasts and waist.

‘If you say so’ you giggled before looking straight into his eyes. You proceeded to shrug the dress from your shoulders, blushing as Cillian's eyes consumed you.

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he pressed his fully hard cock against you.

‘I want you, Cillian’ you gasped softly as you felt him rubbing against you.

He walked you slowly back to the bed, laying you down gently and stripping his clothes from his body. You looked up at him, biting your lip, as he first pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his perfectly shaped chest and torso. Your heart began to pound as he kicked off his shoes and undid his pants, dropping them to his ankles. In no time at all his cock was free and pointing proudly to the ceiling.

You stared at it from your place on the bed, mesmerized by the way it bobbed and weaved as he gazed lustily at your nearly naked body.

You gasped when Cillian got to his knees, spreading your legs and placing soft butterfly kisses on your thighs. You blushed, knowing what Cillian intended, an act that your ex-husband had never, in all your years of marriage, performed.

‘Cillian’ you said quietly, attempting to close your legs.

Cillian held them apart gently as he looked up at your quizzically.

‘I've never...I've never had anyone do that to me’ you said, refusing to meet his eyes.

‘Really?’ he asked surprised and you answered by shaking your head almost shyly.

‘Well, there is a first time for everything Y/N. Just relax. I will stop whenever you tell me to, alright?’ he said, attempting to soothe and calm you and you nodded, biting your lip in anticipation.

And with that he reached up and grasped the waist of your panties, tugging at them gently. You submitted, lifting your hips and closing your eyes as Cillian slid the panties down your thighs. You kept your legs clamped tightly together however as he dropped them to the floor.

Your ex husband had been the first and only men you’ve been with and you were beyond nervous.

‘Cillian’ you murmured as he pressed gently on the insides of your knees in a silent request.

Your legs parted in response and you blushed a deep red at the thought of your most intimate spot exposed to Cillian's gaze. Leaning forward, he kissed the inside of each of your thighs before, a moment later, his tongue was buried in your soft folds, tasting your sweetness. Your body bucked wildly as he drew his tongue through your sweet flesh, your hips rising from the bed from the jolts of pure pleasure that shot through your body when he discovered the little bud that was your clit.

‘Oh God, Cillian!’ you moaned, covering your eyes with the back of your hand.

He opened your legs a little more, twisting his head and running the tip of his tongue the full length of your glistening pussy, savoring the sweet taste of your juice. Reaching up, he found one of your stiff nipples and tugged at it softly as he continued exploring you with his mouth.

You moaned, squirming on the bed from the pleasure building within you as he relentlessly worked at your pussy.

‘Don't stop please, fuck’ you hissed, grasping at the sheet and closing your thighs around his head.

Cillian had no intention of stopping as his tongue lapped at you, his mouth moving in circles as he sought ways to enhance your pleasure. Your body arched upwards when his lips closed around your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking at it gently with the very tip of his tongue. Your breathing was ragged, your moans increasing in volume as his mouth worked relentlessly at your sex. It took no more than a few minutes for your pleasure to build to an overwhelming level.

‘Oh my God! Cillian! Oh my God!’ you screamed as a searing orgasm claimed you.

Your entire body shuddered and shook as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you. Cillian simply gripped your thighs and continued to lick your clit as your body convulsed on the bed. The orgasm seemed to go on forever and it was at least a minute before your mind was once again in control, Finally, your eyes flickered open and you looked at Cillian shyly, his head still positioned between your thighs.

‘Cillian, that was...oh my God, it was amazing. I never imagined...’ you said exhausted.

Cillian raised his head, grinning.

‘There's a lot more to come, Y/N’ he replied, raising himself to your knees.

He could see the trepidation on your face as you eyed his hard, swollen cock which pointed eagerly towards the ceiling.

‘It's okay, I will go slowly’ he said softly, caressing your thigh with his fingers. ‘Do you have…?’ he then went on to ask and, before he could finish his sentence, you shook your head.

‘I’ve just had my implant replaced’ you assured him and this was all he needed to hear.

Reaching down and grasping his member he dragged his head through your folds, causing you to moan once again. The heat from his cock was palpable, the touch of it electric, as he moved it through your puffy lips.

‘Cillian, please... I need you’ you moaned.

‘Not yet, Y/N’ he teased, sliding the head of his cock up and down your slick slit, spreading your soft lips but refusing to penetrate your just yet.

‘God, Cillian... please’ you begged.

He relented then, groaning as he pushed the head of his cock into you, your tight walls gripping him as he pushed deeper, filling you.

‘Oh god yes’ you hissed, your eyes glued to his as he began stroking the full length of his cock into you.

He kissed you, taking your mouth with his as you moaned in pleasure. Drawing his hips back, Cillian's cock slid easily from your sex, eliciting a delicious whimper from your throat. Immediately he thrust back into you in one smooth movement and then repeated the action, giving you deep hard strokes as he built to a steady rhythm.

You moaned and squirmed beneath him; your body rising from the bed to meet each thrust of his almost perfect manhood.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you gasped as he worked himself in and out of you. Your body was on fire, every nerve alight as Cillian fucked you in a way you had never before experienced. Usually, your ex-husband would mount you and simply jackhammer into you for a couple of minutes before gasping in your ear as he came. Cillian, however, was intent on ensuring your pleasure, varying the pace and depth of his thrusts, gyrating his hips against yours, and changing the angle now and then to ensure that he ground against your clit.

Fuck, Y/N... you are so tight. It feels so good’ Cillian moaned.

Cillian, no...’ you whimpered as he pulled his cock from you.

‘Don’t worry, I am not finished with you yet. Turn over’ he chuckled.

You scrambled to your hands and knees quickly, the need to have Cillian's cock inside you driving your movements. Cillian, for his part, felt the same and he wasted no time in entering you again.

He thrust deep into you, driving the breath from your body as he pounded his cock into your sweet, tight pussy over and over. You were in heaven; Cillian was taking you in exactly the way you had imagined so many times over the past few weeks when you dreamt about him. His desire for you palpable in every thrust of his rock-hard member.

As Cillian continued to thrust into you, you buried your face in the pillow, moaning continuously as Cillian took you, the friction of his shaft against your tight walls sending waves of pleasure to the sensory centers of your brain. Instinctively, you pushed back against him, attempting to get every inch of him into you. You were rewarded with a long, guttural moan.

‘Y/N, I'm close’ he warned you.

‘Good, so am I’ you gasped in response. ‘Take me, Cillian’ you moaned.

He picked up the pace, his thrusting becoming almost desperate as he fought to make you finish before he did. He held you in place tightly, his solid shaft slamming into you again and again.

Suddenly you were there, crying out loudly as an intense, almost nuclear, burst of pleasure erupted from deep within and spread through your body.

‘Oh god yes, Cillian fuck’ you screamed, your pussy convulsing around Cillian's shaft.

The sight and sound of your orgasm was too much for Cillian and after just a few more thrusts, he too erupted, forcing spurts of warm cum into you. His eyes glazed and he lost all sense of time and place as he surrendered to the intense pleasure swamping his body.

‘Fuck, that's so good!’ he panted as the two of you, shuddering and shaking in unison, reveled in the fruits of your labor.

Finally, it was over. Gently, you uncoupled your panting bodies and, rolling onto his back, Cillian gasped again, eliciting a wide smile from you.

You snuggled against his warm chest, your thigh cast carelessly over his legs. You were content, basking in the warm glow of perfect sex.

But, your sense of lust and desire was soon to come to an end as you heard Lucas shouting.

‘Mum, are you home?’ he yelled out, causing both Cillian’s and your eyes to widen.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey @janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @basiclassy  @being-worthy  @chaotic-bean-of-smolness  @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​  @vhscillian​  @ysmmsy​  

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby

#cillian murphy #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine

[wlwemilyprentiss]

promise

ship: drug dealer!spencer reid x gender neutral reader word count: 1.8k summary: your boyfriend’s drug habits are starting to worry you. warnings: implied/referenced drug abuse and dealing notes: the plug!spencer au belongs to @jemilys​ / @subspencer​ !! thank u for letting me use this idea 🥺🥺

read it on ao3!

I had never loved anyone in the way that I loved Spencer. I had only been in a few relationships, none of them serious, but I knew that what Spencer and I had was different. It was real and it was tangible. It was tangible in the way he kissed me, how he held my face like I was made of glass. It was in the way he looked at me, his big brown eyes wide and his smile glowing. It was in the sweaters he leant me, that still smelled like weed and cologne. Usually I might have been grossed out by the smell, but it was so very him.

If you had told me three years ago that I’d be dating a drug dealer, I probably would have laughed at you. I was so…good. That was the only way to describe it. I smoked, yeah, but rarely. I didn’t involve myself with people who did a lot of drugs. I didn’t have anything against them, it was just never my thing. 

I met Spencer through a friend. I remembered the way he had looked at me when I walked into his apartment. Like I was a godsend. My friend was dating one of his friends, so she had dragged me over to his place to hang out with them. It inevitably ended in her having sex in the next room while I awkwardly sat in the living room with Spencer, a man I had known for approximately ten minutes.

We could hear the clear noises of a bed frame hanging against the wall. We both glanced towards the room and I found myself trying to repress a laugh. Before I knew it, we were both falling into bursts of giggles. Once it died down, he looked down at his blunt and offered it to me.

“Do you, uh, do you smoke?” He asked. “It’s okay if not, I mean, obviously I won’t make you.”

“Sometimes,” I replied. “Not…Not a whole lot, but I have before, yeah.”

“Well, it would be rude of me not to offer to share,” he said with a lopsided grin. “After all, listening to your best friends have sex is quite a bonding experience.”

We’d been together for almost a year and a half now. Spencer was something special. He was kind and gentle and goofy and he loved me. I loved him just as much.

I loved him, but sometimes he scared me. Not with the way he acted towards me—oh, no, never. He was the furthest thing from scary I could think of. He never yelled or got angry. What scared me was his habits. I didn’t have any issues with him smoking weed, but the other things, the coke and xanax and the heroin, those fucking terrified me. The amount of times I had wiped blood from his nose after he did a line or held him as he came down was more than any girlfriend should have to do. It was hard.

All this time I had known Spencer, he had always been using and selling drugs. How could I ever ask him to change everything about his life just for my sake? Asking him to detox would be asking him to cut off all of his friends, quit his job, stop doing pretty much everything that he had been doing for years.

It had been bothering me a lot lately, and I was pretty sure that Spencer knew something was up. I didn’t think he knew what exactly, but he would have to be an idiot not to notice the way I had been acting lately. I really didn’t mean to be different towards him, it was just happening. I usually spent almost all of my time at his apartment, but for the past few days I had only been over there a few times, never for longer than an hour or two. I knew that it wasn’t fair to be doing this to him, but nowadays just looking at him hurt. 

I was in a dilemma. I couldn’t keep watching him hurt himself like this. I couldn’t spend every waking moment terrified that he would overdose and no one would be there. I could never ever leave him, I loved him too much for that. But I couldn’t ask him to uproot his life for my sake, a girl who he hadn’t even been with for two years.

Well, the time part didn’t matter so much to me. Just because we hadn’t been together for several years didn’t mean that we weren’t serious. We moved quickly in our relationship--we had said the “L-word” quickly and we basically lived together. But I didn’t know what he would say if I brought it up to him. Would he get angry? Offended? Upset? Would he leave me?

These were the questions that had been plaguing me for going on two weeks now.

I was lying on my couch, watching TV and trying to keep my mind off of the situation. My phone suddenly vibrated, and I grabbed it quickly without even looking at the caller ID. I was constantly worrying that any call that came in would be the one from the hospital or one of his friends, telling me that they found him in his bathroom after--

“Hello?”

“Hey, baby.”

Thank fuck.

“Oh, uh, hi Spence.” I inwardly winced at my tone. Could I be any more obvious that I was scared to see him? 

Not scared to see him because of anything he would do. I was scared to see him because I was terrified of my own feelings. I didn’t want to see him, have him high, and make myself spiral into an even deeper hole of anxiety. 

I didn’t want to fall even more in love with him when he was testing his own physical limits, when I didn’t feel like he was permanent.

I could hear his hesitation. My heart broke a little bit more. I was being unfair to him by closing myself off. I wasn’t just hurting myself, I was hurting him. I hoped he knew that I loved him and would never leave him, but if I were him the thoughts that I’d be thinking wouldn’t be of love and loyalty. 

“I’m outside,” he said, clearly trying to smile. “Come here!”

“Okay, one second.” I hung up and placed my phone aside. I bit my lip and got off my couch, walking over to my door. When I opened it, I found Spencer standing there, a lopsided grin on his face. To my relief, he looked perfectly fine. Well, as fine as he usually did. He didn’t look any more high than usual.

“Hi,” I said, a smile creeping its way to my features. He stepped in and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me up with ease as I wrapped my legs around his torso. Usually I would laugh and kiss him, but I couldn’t bring myself to. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell him to put me down, either. I just let him carry me to my bedroom and place me on the mattress.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, crawling on top of me. I forced a smile which I hoped looked genuine as he pressed his lips to mine. I awkwardly placed my hands on his face, forcing all of the motions that usually came to me as second nature. For once, I had to think about the things I did with Spencer. I knew that if I didn’t want to touch him he would never make me, so why wasn’t I pulling away? Why was I so fucking scared of hurting his feelings, when I knew he always put me above everyone else?

I could feel my chest tightening, but I once again made myself ignore it. It wasn’t until he was pulling off his sweatshirt and leaning back over me that I broke. I caught a quick glance of his arms. There were dark bruises on his forearms, track marks that littered his pale skin. I knew he wasn’t actively high -- this was not Spencer high on heroin, I had seen that before -- but the marks seemed fairly fresh. 

Before he could lean down to kiss me again, I was inhaling sharply and letting the dam that had been cracking for weeks finally break. He stopped immediately and his eyes widened, looking at me with a mixture of worry and confusion. I covered my face and sobbed, my chest heaving with every shaky breath.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, still straddling my hips. “What’s wrong, baby? Hey, look at me, it’s okay…I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you didn’t want--”

I let him take my hands and move them from my face. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face against him, sobbing openly. He hushed me as he moved beside me, maneuvering us so we were both laying on our sides facing each other. I kept my face nuzzled against his chest as he rubbed my back, letting me cry it out.

Finally, I managed to steady out my breathing and the tears began to dry. 

“You need to tell me what’s wrong, princess,” he whispered. His words weren’t insistent or rude, he wasn’t trying to force me into anything I was unsure of, just calm and full of love and concern. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’ve barely seen you lately, and now I come over and you can barely touch me…if you want to break up, I--”

“No, no,” I said quickly, looking up at him. “No, Spence, I don’t want to break up, I just…”

“Please tell me.” He cupped my face gently, wiping a stray tear off of my cheek. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. He was so tender with me, his eyes full of nothing but adoration. “Let me help you.”

“I’m so scared,” I blurted out. He frowned as he tucked my hair behind my ears, listening to me speak. “I could never ever ask you to change your life for me, Spencer, but I’m so fucking scared all the time. I know you don’t see it but I have to sit and watch you hurt yourself, I’m the one that has to sit at home and hope to god you’re not overdosing in some bathroom somewhere all by yourself where no one would find you in time. I know it’s not fair, we haven’t been together for all that long but I’m so in love with you and I don’t know what I would do if I lost you--”

“Hey, shh,” he whispered. When I forced myself to look at him, I saw that he looked fucking heartbroken. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I don’t want to make you change your whole-whole life for me…”

“You aren’t making me do anything,” he said softly. “Look at me, (Y/N). I don’t care if we haven’t been together for years. I love you. I want you in my life. I want a future with you. I know it’ll be hard, but I’m willing to do it for you. I want you to feel safe with me. I don’t want you worrying over me like this, it’s killing you. It’s killing both of us.”

“R-Really?”

“Really.” He pressed his forehead against mine. I could tell that, even with the brave facade he was putting on, he was scared. I placed my hand over his, giving him all the reassurance he needed to let himself go. “You’ll stay with me, right? Through...withdrawals and stuff? They’ll be bad, I’ve seen people go through them before.”

“Of course I will.” I pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll always stay with you.”

“Even if I relapse?”

“Of course.”

“...You promise?”

“I promise.”

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #my writing

[jewish-space-laser]

Miles & Black Coffee - Part One

“When you’re on a golden sea, You don’t need no memory, Just a place to call your own, As we drift into the zone...” 

-Island in the Sun by Weezer

Hello, and welcome to part one of M&BC! She’s split up into parts, a day late, and a bit rusty... but she’s here! It’ll be my first new piece of writing since I rejoined tumblr, so it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Thank you to Kate @andwhenshesays, Anne @oh-honey-styles, and Anna @for-fucks-sake-h for organizing this entire challenge, you’ve brought so much joy to our little tumblr community. We love you all dearly ♥️ (4.5k words)

xoxoxox Tile

Warnings: mild drinking, mild drug use (just weed)

You and Harry would never be friends. You were up and down, night and day, oil and water. You just didn’t mesh. He was your roommate’s insufferable older brother, and that is all he would ever be. Well, at least that’s what you thought before….

or

the one with campfire conversations, cabin getaways, and enemies that were never really enemies after all.

MONDAY

Pine trees and cornfields flew by in a blur as you stared out the window of your roommate’s minivan. Every once in a while, there’d be a pasture of cows or a horse ranch. It had been exciting at first, but now you were just bored. 

“How much longer?” You called over the music, trying to keep the whine from your voice. It had been hours since you left your apartment this morning, and you’d only stopped once to stretch your legs and take a bathroom break. 

“The GPS says we still have an hour and a half to go,” Callie groaned, stepping a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Normally, you loved road trips, but this particular drive was more cramped than you’d bargained for. There were seven girls packed into the van, and you’d been unfortunate enough to get squished into the backseat with your twin sister and her girlfriend, who hadn’t stopped with the obnoxious PDA since the car got on the freeway. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to will away your nauseating carsickness. This week had been marked into your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you let this god-awful car ride ruin it for you. 

Callie, your college roommate, had a cabin in northern Wisconsin that she’d been raving about for years. She’d been going there with her family for decades, every summer since pre-school, she’d said. According to her, it was a beautiful property, equipped with a private lakeside beach, fire pit, and a full bar. 

It was going to be the perfect getaway. You and Callie had rounded up all of your girlfriends, packed all of the essentials for a spa night, junk food, board games, movies. You’d packed four swimsuits just in case; the weather forecast looked fantastic, high seventies and low eighties all week long. 

It was going to be the perfect vacation. Well, almost perfect. 

Harry was going to be there.

Harry, the constant thorn in your side. Harry, Callie’s older brother. Harry, the one who eats all of your food whenever he visits. Harry, the one who constantly picked fights with you. You and him had never gotten along, not even for a second. 

There wasn’t a single person alive who got on your nerves more than he did. Generally, you got along with most people, but Harry was the exception to the rule. You couldn’t seem to shake him off. 

You weren’t about to let him ruin this trip, though. There were going to be fourteen people staying at the cabin, so it should be a piece of cake to avoid him for a week; there were plenty of other people to interact with. And even if you couldn’t avoid him, you were going to let his inevitable snarky comments roll off of your back. Well, you’d try to, at least.

Perhaps that’s what annoyed you most about him, the reaction you’d have from the smallest fight. With anyone else, it was water under the bridge… with Harry, you thought about it for days afterwards, thinking of better comebacks you should’ve said or ways you could have changed your schedule to steer clear of him altogether. He made your skin prickle with irritation, and turned you into somebody you didn’t like very much. 

It had been months since you’d seen him, not that you’d been keeping track. He typically visits Callie a few times a semester, but his senior year was more intense than he had anticipated, according to his sister. He just couldn’t spare the two hour drive from his university to yours.

But now it was summertime. Gone were the papers, projects, and responsibilities… it was finally time to relax and have fun. You only had one year of college left before graduation, so you and your friends wanted to make the most of it. Harry and his friends had just graduated, so they were at the cabin for their last hurrah before real life kicked in. 

If you were being honest with yourself, you were excited that Harry was bringing some of his frat brothers along. You and your ex had just ended things recently, and you were finally feeling ready to get back into the dating game. Being trapped in a cabin with a handful of cute guys felt like a dream. 

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Callie slowed the car down and turned onto a dirt road. The other girls in the car started desperately peering out the window to get a glimpse of the lake and surrounding forest. 

The moment the cabin came into view, your jaw dropped. You knew Callie’s parents were loaded, but this hardly looked like the rustic getaway you were expecting. There were three buildings, each labelled with a birch bark sign. Two speedboats and a pontoon were docked at the beach, inflatable tubes and paddleboards littered around the sand nearby. 

It wasn’t until Callie parked and shut off the engine that you heard a heavy bass thrum coming from the building marked MAIN CABIN. The other two buildings were labelled GUEST CABIN and SHOWER HOUSE. You were snapped out of it when Olivia and Jane, who had been sitting in the middle bucket seats, swung their sliding doors open and practically fell onto the ground. 

“I don’t think I remember how to walk normally,” Charlie, a girl from your art history class, groaned, “like, we were sitting in that car for so long….”

“Oh, shush,” your sister, Morgan, scoffed, “at least you got to sit up front. I was crammed into the back between these two.”

Both you and her girlfriend, Isobel, huffed in protest, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. You’d have plenty of time to bicker later. For now, the fresh air and cool breeze were like heaven after a long road trip.

“The boys beat us here,” Callie remarked.

Sure enough, there were two other cars already parked in the driveway. Back behind the main cabin, a plume of smoke rose into the air. You could hear loud laughter, loud enough to drown out the trap music they had playing. 

“They’ve started a bonfire!” Olivia squealed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I’m ready to get partying… it’s four in the afternoon and I’ve spent all day in a car. I need a drink.”

A few others were laughing and nodding in agreement, already making their way towards the boys, but you hung back. You’d party later, but after spending an entire day stuck with six other people, you just wanted to be alone. Plus, you wanted to drink tonight, and you’d never get around to unpacking your bag if you were wasted. 

You managed to dig your duffel bag out from the pile of luggage in the trunk, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Callie had just been finishing up with a phone call when you looked up. 

“Hey, you’re not joining the others?” She asked. “I was about to head over, they’ve got a fire going. Just had to call my mum to let her know we made it.”

“I’ll join in a bit,” you promised “but I want to unpack my things first… where are we all staying?”

“You’re in the main cabin, I have you sharing a room with Charlie, is that okay?” She questioned. You nodded quickly, relief flooding over you. You liked all of the girls who came on the trip, but Charlie was by far the easiest to get along with. “Harry and I each have our own room in the main cabin, too, so you won’t be alone. Everyone else is in the guest cabin, though.”

“The guest cabin,” you giggled, slinging your bag over your shoulder as Callie lead you into the main building, “this place is swanky, Cal.”

“We host all of our family reunions here,” she shrugged, “we need lots of space. Plus it’s fun for occasions like this… we’re just lucky my dad is letting us use the boats. He treats those things like they’re his own children, only Harry is allowed to drive them this week.”

You made a face at the mention of her brother. “I’ll be staying far away from the boats, then.”

“Oh god,” Callie groaned, “I know you two don’t get along very well, but please try to be civil… we’re here for a whole week, after all.”

“I’m always civil,” you protested innocently, “it’s him you need to worry about.”

“Always civil,” she scoffed, “we both know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide.”

Okay, so maybe you had a slight temper when it came to Harry, but nine times out of ten, he was the one who started the argument. You were never the type to actively seek out conflict, but Harry seemed to thrive off of it. Whether it was eating all the food from your half of the fridge, throwing his dark blue t-shirt in with your load of whites, or playing his guitar in your living room until three in the morning when you had a test the next day… it felt like he was out to get you. 

And he was never apologetic. Of course not. He probably got off on watching steam blow from your ears. 

You took a deep breath as Callie led you up a wooden staircase, trying not to let yourself get worked up. The cabin was gorgeous from what you’d seen on the main floor. Though you hadn’t lingered, you’d noticed that there was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, packed to the brim with books with faded spines, vinyl records with worn edges, and an assortment of candles and bookends sprinkled throughout randomly. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire property. 

Photographs lined the walls of every hallway, snapshots of Harry and Callie running around as kids. There was a hilarious picture of a young Harry crying as he held a fishing pole, a bare hook dangling from the line. The Styles family clearly had a great sense of humor. You made a mental note to take a photo of it on your phone later; it would be perfect ammo for the next fight that Harry would inevitably start. 

“This is the bathroom…” she drawled, “no shower though. We all just use the shower house, which isn’t really as bad as it sounds. Just make sure you bring clothes with you, otherwise you’ll have to walk across the lawn in just your towel.”

You grimaced at the thought. As she continued to lead you down the hall, you saw two doors, one with CALLIE’S ROOM written in bright pink bubble letters, and the second with a wooden plaque, the word HARRY written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting. 

“This is technically my parents’ room, but we use it as a guest room if it’s just us kids,” Callie explained, stopping at the last door in the hallway, “they have a king bed, so I figured you and Charlie could just share.”

“That’s fine,” you assured her, not hesitating to drop your heavy duffel onto the side of the bed closest to the window, “this place is awesome, Callie.”

“Right?” She grinned. “I’m stoked for the week, it’s gonna be so fun.”

“You should go down to the bonfire,” you told her, placing a hand on your bag, “I’ll come join as soon as I’m done.”

Luckily, your roommate of two years understood that you needed alone time sometimes, so she left you without protest. 

This was exactly the recharge time that you needed. You were the kind of person who loved being around friends, but there was only so much socializing you could handle before you needed a break to be on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken much on the ride to the cabin, being squished into a mini-van with six other girls drained your social battery. Giving yourself a moment to breathe and relax was necessary if you were going to rejoin the group.

Pressing the shuffle play button on your spotify, you smiled when the soft melody of your favorite folk song thrummed through your headphones. You swayed from side-to-side as you unzipped your bag, which had been packed to perfection. 

Four swimsuits, a different outfit for each day (plus a few extra items… overpacking is better than underpacking), sunscreen, bug spray, all of your toiletries. It was fun to organize everything into the empty wardrobe by the window; looking at all of your stuff just made you more excited to be here.

Time flew by as you danced around the room. Most of your things were put away, and you’d stashed your empty bag under the bed. The one thing you hadn’t put away yet was your assortment of swimsuits. It had been difficult picking out which ones you wanted to bring, but you’d settled on three bikinis and a one-piece with the sides cut out. You were itching to change out of your leggings and t-shirt; they felt gross against your skin after sitting in the van all day. 

Just as you went to pick up your navy blue sequined bikini top, a hand abruptly clamped down on your shoulder. 

“Holy shit!” You spun around on your heels, hand flying to cover your beating heart. You were less than pleased to find Harry standing there, wide-eyed and trying to mask his amusement by biting down on his lip. 

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he chuckled, “forgot how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you frowned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and crossing your arms over your stomach, “what are you doing in here?”

“Nice to see you too,” he scoffed, dimple indenting into his cheek, “I was just using the loo, then I was gonna go back to the party, where we’re having fun. Foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around so he couldn’t see how hard you were scowling. He always knew just what to say to get your blood boiling.

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to have fun, Harry?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Ah, I knew you were smarter than you looked,” he grinned. “Cute swim top.”

It was only then that you noticed his attire. Well, lack of attire. He was wearing the smallest swimming shorts you’d ever seen, his chest tanned from the sun and completely bare apart from a single cross necklace that hung over his sternum. His hair had grown out since the last time you saw him, and it looked a bit ridiculous with his sunglasses on top of his head. 

He looked good, not that you’d ever admit it. Luckily, you were fantastic at masking your wandering eyes; he had a tendency of walking around your apartment in his boxers during visits, so you’d had plenty of practice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, throwing the bikini top back onto the bed. You’d been planning on wearing that one, but Harry ruined it with his gross comment, just like he ruins most things for you. 

“I’m quite incapable of shutting up,” he mused, throwing himself down onto your side of the bed, “you should know this by now.”

“Trust me,” you were completely unamused, still standing with your arms crossed over your stomach, “I’m well aware.”

“You should come join the party,” he continued speaking as if you hadn’t said anything, seemingly unfazed by how visibly irritated you were, “it’s the first day and you’re already being a buzzkill. Maybe you should try like… try stepping out of your comfort zone, just for the week.”

“Thank you so much for that lovely unsolicited advice,” you said sarcastically, “now if we’re talking about comfort zones, you laying on my bed is definitely out of mine.”

“Please, you love me on your bed,” he smirked, closing his eyes, “this is a dream come true for you.”

“Are you delusional?” You were running out of patience. “Did you hit your head?”

“Why?” He said innocently. “Are you thinking about playing nurse? Because I hate to break your heart, but I’m not into wet blankets. Maybe if you loosened up a bit.”

If he wasn’t gone in thirty seconds, you were going to scream. He seemed to be enjoying himself, arms crossed behind his head with a twinkle in his eye as you stared daggers at him. 

“Are you quite done?” You spit. “I can feel my IQ dropping every time you speak. Plus, I need to change before I come down.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

That was it. “Harry, get out, okay?”

“Jeez, okay, fine,” he grumbled, rolling clumsily off of the bed, “so bossy, you are.”

You pointed a finger towards the door, leveling him with the steeliest glare you could muster. “Out,” you repeated.

“You should come down sooner rather than later,” he said, completely unbothered, “I’m sure you’ll be much nicer once you’ve had a drink or two.”

He was gone before you could think of a response. The annoyance bubbling inside you was so intense, you felt like you wanted to break something. Instead, you punched your pillow a few times to release some tension, taking a deep breath to compose yourself after.

You wrinkled your nose at the blue bikini top, choosing to wear an orange floral patterned one instead. You’d never give Harry the satisfaction.

~~~

The fire was absolutely roaring. 

It was perfect. The fire pit was lined with wooden logs, the tops shaved off to make benches. There was hardly enough space for all fourteen of you, but you managed to squeeze in as you all roasted corn and hot dogs over the fire. It wasn’t too windy, so you didn’t have to worry about smoke blowing into your eyes, but the bugs were relentless. 

The air around you smelled of smoke, bug spray, and good food. There were a few different conversations happening, and every once in a while, a few people would break out into loud, contagious laughter. 

Harry had tried to talk to you when you came down, but you’d avoided him like the plague. You had absolutely nothing nice to say to him after his snarky comments in your room, and any further interaction with him at this point would just end in disaster. Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by some of his frat brothers, and he hadn’t tried to approach you again all night. 

Now, you were chatting with Olivia and one of the boys, Luke. By the time you’d gone down to the bonfire, everyone was several drinks in. You’d been forced to play catch-up by way of tequila shots, so you had a pleasant buzz running through your veins.

“This is a perfect summer night,” you sighed happily, pulling your skewer from the flames to keep your corn from burning. 

“Almost perfect,” a boy named Archie corrected, “we haven’t been out on the lake yet.”

Harry and three of the other boys had arrived a night early to get the boats ready, and now that Archie mentioned it, the pontoon was looking mighty tempting. The sun hadn’t fully set, but dusk was beginning to settle in, blanketing the forest with pink and orange hues, a gorgeous reflection of the sunset above you. It was the perfect time to go out on the water.

“How do we feel about the pontoon?” You wondered out loud. There was no way you’d all fit, but you could go in groups. 

“It’s too buggy to be on the water,” Callie wrinkled her nose, “I’m getting eaten alive as it is.”

“I’m down, as long as I can smoke a spliff while we’re out there,” James, one of the other boys, shrugged, “obviously I’ll share, I brought tons.”

A few others around the circle chimed in with their interest, and before you knew it, people were standing up to make their way over to the docks. You weren’t the best with names, but much to your relief, you’d introduced yourself to everyone going on the boat. Obviously, you already knew Morgan and Isobel, and were somewhat friendly with Jane, Archie, and James. 

“I’ll come along, too,” a voice behind you yawned. When you turned around, you immediately felt yourself melt. Ryan, a boy you’d had a single class with freshman year, was stretching his arms out as he stood up, and he was looking directly at you with a flirtatious smile. 

You’d had a major crush on him for the entirety of your class together, but you’d been too shy to say anything to him. He was a whole year older, after all, and that had been intimidating when you were eighteen. 

You returned his smile, biting down on your bottom lip shyly. 

“I guess I’m going too, then,” Harry sighed, shoving the last of his hot dog into his mouth before dusting his hands off. 

Immediately, your face dropped. Harry snorted when he saw your expression, digging around the pocket in his swimsuit to retrieve a key. 

“I’m the only one allowed to drive the boats, remember? Dad made me promise.” 

Your shoulders slumped. You’d completely forgotten that Callie had mentioned it to you earlier. You weren’t about to turn down a sunset boat ride though, especially now that Ryan was coming along as well. 

Everyone scarfed down the rest of their food in a rush as Harry went over to untie the boat and make sure it was good to go. You watched as he leaned far over the edge of the dock, so far that nearly fell face-first into the water before righting himself and trying again.. 

“Hey,” Ryan had walked next to you, following your line of sight, “he’s gonna fall in, isn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you giggled.

“You were in my History 204 class, weren’t you? Sophomore year?” He asked.

Your entire body flushed. You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all, let alone enough to remember you years later. Having Ryan up at the cabin, talking to you, felt like a dream come true.

“I was a freshman, but yeah, I think so,” you nodded nonchalantly, “I hated that professor.”

“Oh god, same!” He laughed, shaking his head, “such a drag, just constant pop quizzes!”

“Ugh, yes!” You turned your body towards him fully. “And that midterm assignment….”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ryan pretended to shiver in fear. 

You laughed loudly, and from the corner of your eye you saw Harry turn to glance in your direction. Upon a closer look, he’d managed to wrangle the boat so it was right up against the dock. 

“All aboard!” He shouted.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous antics. He always thought he was so funny, especially when you were the butt of his jokes. You hoped he’d be too busy driving to bother you. 

Luckily, Ryan seemed keen to stay by your side, even helping you step into the boat by taking your hand to keep you balanced, so Harry didn’t have much of a chance to say anything. By the time the boat was moving, everyone was sitting in a circle on the floor, clipping in the life jackets that Callie had forced us all to wear. 

As soon as the wind blew through your hair, you tilted your head up and closed your eyes. Lakes didn’t smell great, but you’d always loved it. It was classic, nostalgic. You’d spent every summer of your life swimming in Midwest lakes, so it felt just like summer.

James was true to his word, and pulled out four fatly rolled joints, passing them around with a lighter. You didn’t do this often, but it felt like the perfect moment. The sun was disappearing fast, and soon enough you’d be able to see the stars.

At some point, Harry slowed the engine down to a gentle hum when the boat reached the middle of the lake, getting a couple of the others to help him throw the anchor over the edge. Afterwards, he moved back over to the driving console and fiddled with a few buttons until quiet, staticky music sounded out. He then sat down across the circle from you, immediately accepting one of the joints from Archie. 

You stood up on your knees, and looked around. Water lapped lightly against the sides of the boat, so it took you a moment to find your equilibrium. The silhouette of the tall pines surrounding the lake were awe-striking. 

Nobody wanted to break the silence, so you didn’t. The weed was starting to take effect, making your body feel heavy and your head feel light. You started to lay down, unclipping your life jacket to use as a pillow. Slowly, your friends followed your lead, the sounds of shuffling and buckles popping open momentarily interrupting the tranquil silence. 

You watched the sky change from pink to a deep blue, only turning your head away when the first stars became visible. Morgan was laying next to you, staring straight up at the sky. To anyone else, she looked like she was lost in thought, but you knew her better than that. There was a slight frown, watery eyes, a little crinkle across her forehead... she was worried about something. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, trailing a hand down her arm. She let out a long exhale. 

“This is gonna sound so soppy,” Morgan sighed, “but I can’t stop thinking about like… how different I would be if I could just, change things about myself.”

“I like you the way you are,” Isobel frowned, sitting up slightly to look at her, “plus, you can change things about yourself. People do it all the time. New hairstyles, piercings, clothes. You could completely rebrand yourself anytime you want.”

“She’s not talking about her appearance,” you said softly, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “she means… like, changing who you are, at your very core. Things you can’t help.”

“I get that,” Ryan chimed in, “I think about that, too. If I could change one thing about myself, I would make myself more motivated. My life would be so different if I could just… alter one tiny thing.”

“Exactly!” Morgan nodded. “I would… make myself less impulsive, I think. I have so many regrets, and it’s all because I never properly think before I act. I’d be so much better off if I could just learn to be more careful.”

“I like how spontaneous you are,” Isobel hummed, “but I think I know what you mean. If I could change anything about myself, I’d make myself less anxious. Anxiety has always held me back so much… I mean, fuck… I haven’t even come out to my family yet, even though I know they’d support me. I’d be so much happier if I could appreciate the good things in life, rather than stress about how to keep them.”

“I’m with Isobel,” Harry spoke. He’d just taken a rather large pull from the joint, so his voice came out rougher than gravel. “Anxiety is such a bitch, and it’s like, out of our control. It’s kept me from talking about my feelings so many times, and I feel like I’ve missed out on some really good friendships because of it.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you felt happier than you had in a long time. You’d smoked just enough to feel numb, and the waves were rocking against the boat so gently that it felt like you were floating. You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling the crisp forest air fill your lungs before exhaling. The stars were shining in the cloudless sky, crickets were chirping along the shore, and soft music was filtering through the cheap boat stereo. It was peaceful, listening to your friends pour their hearts out. 

Each person took a turn sharing what they would change about themselves. Archie would get rid of his bad temper, James would become a better listener, and Jane would be less self-conscious. 

“What would you change?” Morgan turned to look at you. 

You and your twin sister were very different people. So different, in fact, that you sometimes forgot that you were identical. In moments like this, when her eyes were watery and hooded, voice thick with sadness and hope, that you were reminded of how similar you could be. 

“If I could change anything about myself….” you mused, closing your eyes. “I think I would… let things go.”

“Let things go?” Archie echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “like, let go of the past. Whenever something bad happens to me, I let it really get to me. Negative memories and feelings just… constantly eat away at me. I wish I could just wake up in the morning and think about the future… because thinking about the past is exhausting.”

Nobody spoke after your confession. Nobody tried to assure anyone that they would be okay, or convince anyone that they didn’t need to change. There was something comforting about lying in a circle with your friends, your sister… even Harry, because you were all flawed, and none of you knew what the future would bring. You all found solace in the fact that you were here, right now, laying in a circle on a boat, with an old jazz song ringing through the air.

And who knows… maybe someday, you’ll all find a way to change the parts of yourselves that bother you. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate them. Maybe your flaws will end up helping you in the long run. 

But for now, none of you were alone. And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting feedback, so let me know what you thought! xoxoxoxoxoooooxxxxxxooooooxxxoooo Tile

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #styles #pypfc #pick your poison fic challenge #enemies to lovers #m&bc #miles and black coffee #multi-part fic #part 1

[if-you-built-yourself-a-myth]

Check Ignition: Sander Schmander

By popular request (*cough* everyone on ao3 and @art3misjade), here is Sander's perspective on events

This segment falls right before Chapter Four of Check Ignition

Sander Driesen was drunk. Honest-to-god, shitfaced drunk. And for the first time in forever, too—he’d laid off the stuff since his treatment plan made it difficult to handle, and since he wanted the meds to actually work. But tonight, he thought, I’ve earned this. Everyone else was drinking. It would be weird if he didn’t participate when his own boyfriend was halfway through his fifth cup of punch.

Fake boyfriend. That was a whole thing.

Now, he lay on the stairs leading upward to the boys’ dormitories. Hopefully those stairs. He didn’t make a habit of visiting the common rooms of other houses, and the layouts tended to differ from one another.

“Sorry,” he croaked to everyone who shimmied their way through. “My bad. Deepest apologies.”

This was why he needed Britt, he thought, to reign in this kind of impulse. Granted, she was the only one who knew about everything else thus far, but he wasn’t going to tell Robbe all that, not when it was already hard enough existing in a magical world with a mundane illness. He wanted to hold onto this last little dream.

Midnight was fast approaching and the bustle downstairs had yet to dispel. Sander tried to move his arms and found them unresponsive. Or rather, he could move them, but it required too much effort to be worth it. He slumped back. More people flooded up the stairs to sleep off whatever terrible concoction was in that punch bowl.

“Robbe has such stupid ideas, I swear,” said Moyo, cresting the staircase. Sander perked up at the sound of Robbe’s name. Probably Moyo. Sander struggled to think through the names of Robbe’s friends—he had them listed in his bedroom for continuity purposes.

He recognized Jens easily enough, because Jens was wherever Robbe was. And Sander watched Robbe a lot. Sander held his breath, as if being quiet could prevent them from seeing him sprawled across their path.

“Shut up,” Jens shot back.

The third boy with them—Alex? Adam?—pitched in, “It’s not Robbe’s fault you don’t get any.”

“He’s throwing away the chance of a lifetime.”

“Shut the fuck up. You sound like an incel.”

“But like, why do they kiss so much? It’s not like you have—” Moyo stopped short as he tripped over Sander’s leg. Despite their somewhat rational conversation, they weren’t any more sober than Sander himself. “Shit, speak of the devil.”

Jens leaned down to Sander’s eye level. “You alright?”

“Never better,” Sander slurred. It came out more like a groan.

Moyo approached to help Jens move Sander from the center of the stairs. They sat him up against the railing on his left side, which was not any more comfortable than the steps digging into his back. Jens was still in full Quidditch uniform (even the chest padding!), Moyo sported a Hufflepuff tie over a t-shirt and jeans, and Adam-or-whoever stood at a quiet distance in a pair of burgundy pajama pants and his Quidditch robes. Sander would have made note to write these in on his list—a good indicator of personality.

Too bad he didn’t have the sense to do so.

“Can’t handle your alcohol, huh?” Moyo asked. He didn’t seem very threatening, though the question was definitely a taunt. Sander’s brain felt like vanilla pudding. Moyo turned to the boys. “Should we wake Robbe?”

“Yes,” said Sander. Oh, hell yes. Robbe. He liked Robbe so much.

The story itself was long and antiquated, a love-at-first-sight kind of deal for Sander. He couldn’t think of one version where he wasn’t the bad guy. He went on a double-date with Britt and her friend, expecting one of Noor’s usual yuppies to show up and bore the whole table with pointless conversation. Then it was Robbe.

Do you ever just see someone, really see them, and—how could he phrase it—know? Or think you know. All things considered, it wasn’t the best sign in terms of his condition.

He had to walk all the way into the next town over to call his psychiatrist, only to realize there wasn’t much to tell her. Hey, I’m infatuated with this guy that my girlfriend’s friend is dating. What should I do? She’d give him some common-sense answer like, Break up with your girlfriend, which he didn’t want to do until he knew what he was feeling would last. So he said, These side effects are nasty, and she reevaluated his dose of Lexapro.

“Let the virgin sleep,” said Moyo.

Sander pitched forward to grab Moyo by the arm. “No, wake him up.”

Because the thing was, time passed, and the feelings didn’t fade. Britt could tell he wasn’t present anymore and said nothing. Maybe she thought it was the Depakote that his psychiatrist added to the cocktail when the antidepressant dangled him on the edge of hypomania. She was a good person. It really wasn’t fair when he told her it was over via owl, and it really wasn’t fair when he seized his opportunity to kiss Robbe in the astronomy tower. The argument in question was not so bad. He conflated it for an excuse to leave her.

“Where’s Robbe?” said Sander. “I have to see him.”

“He’s asleep, downstairs. We gave him a blanket and everything.” Jens passed over his own cup of water. “Drink this.”

“I have to see him,” Sander repeated.

“Yeah, you have to go to sleep. He’s going to be here tomorrow.”

“It won’t be the same tomorrow.”

The whole relationship wasn’t even meant to be a thing. It was a cheap kiss, really, in the astronomy tower. Sander just wanted to know what it would feel like, and he thought it might serve Robbe too, so he did it. Robbe’s appearance the next day was the most unexpected, thrilling twist he could have dreamed of. Except, in a dream, it wouldn’t be fake.

Robbe never missed a chance to restate that it was fake. That wasn’t the best sign, either.

“Aaron, don’t just stand there,” said Jens. “Help me out. Grab his arms, will you?”

“Aaron.” Sander tested out the name. “But you’re Adam!”

“How much have you had?” Aaron grabbed Sander’s arms and lifted. The boys got Sander up two stairs before deciding he was too heavy. They sat him back against the wall.

“Try again,” Jens instructed.

The second try went about as well as the first.

Jens crouched to Sander’s eye level. “Look, is there someone else we can get for you? Or are you cool with sleeping here?” He had to hold Sander’s shoulders in his hands to keep Sander from pitching forward and rolling all the way back downstairs.

“We can’t leave our friend’s boyfriend here!” said Aaron.

“Fake boyfriend,” Moyo added.

Sander groaned. Yes, remind him of that! It was fake! He knew it already! If his psychiatrist could see him now, she’d say—alright, she’d say that he wasn’t allowed to drink on his overly specific medication regimen. But if that weren’t a factor, she’d say some more common-sense things like, “Tell Robbe how you feel. Tell his friends, if you want.”

Fuck, he missed her. He could seek out the phone booth sometime this week and tell her all about it. She loved hearing from him.

“There’s no one,” he slurred. “I’m okay.”

“Fine, there’s us, then,” said Jens. He hefted one of Sander’s arms over his shoulder. “Moyo, take three.”

Moyo took the other arm. They dragged him up the rest of the way, bumping his head on every other stair. He felt like a snow globe in a tourist trap shop, all shaken up, no escape through the glass. Huh. Poetic. Where was Robbe?

“Wake up Robbe,” Sander requested. Jens and Moyo dropped him into the fourth bed in their room. Aaron, Jens, and Robbe lived here; Sander could deduce that from the eclectic assortment of things piled on every available surface. The blankets of the bed in which he lay were already rumpled, implying that someone else had slept here recently. He touched something sticky on the top sheet. Okay, maybe they didn’t sleep.

Jens looked back and forth between Moyo and Sander. “Why?” he asked.

There were plenty of replies Sander could give. We’re fake-dating, and I want it to be convincing.

We’re such good friends, and I want to tell him so.

I think he has my cell phone. Jens might not know what a cell phone was. Sander could never tell with those purebloods.

He and I have plans to smoke weed and throw rocks at pixies in the Forbidden Forest.

Sander said, “I misssssss him,” with the s pulled to the end of the world. Yeah, that would work, too.

“Um, okay,” said Jens. “We’ll see what we can do.”

Then he, Aaron, and Moyo started laughing, although Sander couldn’t tell just what they found so funny. Sander had an alarm on his cell phone to take his medication at eleven PM, since schedule was important to the efficacy of the active ingredients, or whatever it was his psychiatrist said when she adjusted his Lexapro to 15mg. It buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t have the pills. He was too tired, anyway. It wouldn’t matter if he skipped a dose or two; he’d done worse things than that with lesser consequences.

“You’re going to get Robbe, right?” he asked, and in a moment of clarity, he realized he was a needy boyfriend. He wasn’t a fan of needy Britt. You either die the hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Jens yanked the curtains shut across the fourth bed and bound them with a spell. “You’re drunk, go to sleep. We’ll get Robbe.” The boys began another fit of giggling.

It didn’t bother Sander at all. He stared at the arcing pillars that held up the bedcurtains and hummed a David Bowie song into the darkness. He was young and drunk and in love, and anything could happen. So what if Robbe thought their relationship was fake for now? In a matter of time, it would be real.

#sobbe fanfic #sobbe #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #wtfock #requested fic #sander POV #fake dating #Hogwarts au

[the-daily-multi-fandom-post]

This time can you do a very romantic just Jeremy Gilbert request I’m really sorry if I keep bothering you or annoying you I really love how you write in the style I am how do you put it all together it’s amazing but if you’re tired of me I completely understand

Oh no it’s fine I gottcha! Here it is! 🖤

Warnings: smoking weed, talks of drugs, drinking? Idk what else.

Y/n smiled as she woke up to a drooling Jeremy. She was wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend who was going to sleep the day away. Y/n tried to get up without waking him, but the two were tangled up together.

She continues to carefully struggle, but she just didn’t have the heart to wake Jeremy up.

“I know your awake I can hear your heart beating faster.” She looked at Jeremy who seemed to be half awake and half asleep.

“I forget my girlfriends a vampire sometimes.” He said as he pulled her impossibly closer to her.

“Jeremy please let go. I have stuff I need to go do today.”

“What’s more important then staying in bed all day?” He asked as he stared into her Y/e/c eyes.

“Maybe helping my brothers before they get themselves killed. If I don’t get up and ready they’ll leave without me.”

“She’s right.” Damon said all of a sudden inside the room making the two jump.

“Damon, what the hell?!” Y/n yelled as she threw a pillow at her older brother.

“Y/n you need to get ready we leave in 5 minutes. So chop chop. Little Gilbert let my sister go before I snap your neck.” Y/n rolled her eyes at her brother as she vamp sped to him. Grabbing the coller of his black shirt and running him out of the room. Locking the door behind her as she shut the door.

“I mean it five minutes, no fonduing!” Damon called from the other side of the door. Y/n rolled her eyes at her brother as she walked back over to the bed. Getting back onto the bed she leaned over to Jeremy giving him a passionate kiss. He tries to takeover the kiss but she wouldn’t allow it. As soon as he tried to make the kiss deeper.

“I love you, but I gotta go.” She smiled kissing him one more time then getting up. Walking over to the closet of her room and grabbing clothes to get dressed.

She came back out of the closet wearing a gray v-neck t-shirt, blue jean shorts and black converse tennie shoes.

“How is it you can dress as casual as can be and still look so freaking beautiful?” Jeremy asked as he stood up from the bed walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. Giving her a tight hug, secretly trying to keep her home for the day.

“I know what your doing.” Y/n spoke as she felt Jeremy kiss the space between her neck and shoulder. “And what is that?” He hummed as he continues kissing up her neck.

“You are distracting me so I’ll have to stay home. It’s not gonna work, Jeremy.” She said as she pulled away from him with a smile. Walking over to her dressed she grabbed her hair brush. Brushing through her hair. Then after she was done twisting it into a braid.

Then walking over towards the bathroom to brush her teeth.

She could hear Jeremy groaning. Telling her she should stay with him for the day.

“It’s only 9:34 I should be Home by 12.” Jeremy looked at Y/n and tried to give her puppy dog eyes.

“Fine, but you are mine tonight. I have a special night tonight.” Y/n nodded at a serious Jeremy Gilbert.

“Alright tonight I’m all yours, I promise.” Jermey nodded as he gave her a kiss letting her go with a soft smile.

Y/n grabbed phone off charge and left the room. A minute later she left with her two brothers.

“Alright we have a couple hours to get the place decorated for Y/ns birthday so let’s get started!” Caroline exclaimed as she looked at her friends in front of her.

Stefan and Damon were distracting Y/n while Elena, Jeremy, Caroline, Bonnie, Matt and Tyler worked on everything for the party.

“Tyler, Matt you guys are on food and drink duty.”

“Elena, Jeremy you guys are with me working on decorating the boarding house.” Elena and Jeremy nodded.

“Bonnie you are to find a cake for y/n and help us decorate the house.” Everyone understand what they should be doing?” Caroline I asked her friends with a smile on her face. They all nodded and Caroline clapped her hands together. Making them jump at the loud clap. “Alright then let’s get started.”

Hours went by as Y/n sat in the back seat of Damon’s Camaro. She was told they were going to a meeting with Elijah at the Mikaelson mansion. But when they had been driving for a little more then what they should’ve been she was confused.

“Where are we going?” Y/n finally asked her two older brothers.

“We are doing something for your birthday. This year is the first year we three are together for your birthday. So I decided that we would do something we haven’t done for a very long time.” Y/n looked over at Stefan confused. But was about to ask questions when they pulled into a familiar dirt road.

“Are we where I think we are?” She asked as she looked at the Woods around them and then the rumble of what used to be their home.

“Welcome home y/n.” Damon said as he put the blue camaro in parked.

Stepping out y/n looked at the house and smiled.

“There’s so many memories here.” Y/n spoke softly as she looked at the property in front of her.

“We figured since its been so long since we’ve been together for your birthday we would go back down memory lane.” Damon said as he pulled at a foot ball from the trunk of the car.

“Are you for real?” Y/n asked as she looked at her two brothers.

“Umm. Yeah.” Damon said as he threw the ball to Y/n.

The whole time Y/n had a great time with her brothers. Playing football together playing tag and playing hide-in-seek.

“I don’t understand how you hide so good still. It’s been like 200 years and we still can’t ever find you.” Stefan told his younger sister as they got into the car.

“Well, I guess I’m just that good.” Y/n said with a smile laughing at her brother who seemed confused at how he couldn’t find his sister.

“Alright, lets get back to the house. We’re going to be late.” Damon said as he got into the car.

“Late for what?” Y/n asked as she looked at her older brother.

“Huh? Oh I was just saying how I didn’t want to be here so late. You know with spirits running around here.” Damon made you randomly. Y/n squinted her eyes at her brother and sighed. Mumbling a dragged out, “okay.”

The three got out of the car and walked up the side walk to the door. Opening the door Y/n heard a shush and then a snickering.

She walked further into the house and seen her friends and other people jump up, “happy birthday!!” They all exclaimed. Y/n looked at her friends with a smile on her face. Music started playing for background sound and y/n looked at her brothers behind her.

“You guys were distracting me so they could do all this.” Y/n said looking at her two brothers.

“You guys are the best.” Y/n said looking at her brothers and then her friends.

“Well, lets get this party started!” Caroline exclaimed pulling y/n to the crowd of people who were already dancing to the music. Y/n was dancing beside Caroline, Bonnie and Elena. The four girls having them time of their lives.

“Here you go!” Jeremy called over the music handing Y/n a red solo cup of beer from the keg.

“Thank you, baby!” Y/n called over the music. Hugging him and then placing a kiss on his cheek. She took a couple sips of the cool beer and started dancing with Jeremy.

After a while of dancing and drinking Y/n was pulled away with Jeremy to another room where she noticed a few stoned teenagers were smoking.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/n laughed at Matt who was smoking a blunt in his hand.

“What? You wanna hit?” Y/n giggled as she took the blunt.

Y/n laughed at something Matt said when Alaric walked in.

“Y/n I thought you were the good influence.” Alaric told y/n as she handed the blunt to Jeremy.

“Sometimes you just gotta let loose some.” Y/n laughed right before taking a swig of her beer.

“I’m all out I’ll be right back.” Y/n leaned over kissing Jeremy then left the room to get a drink. The three stayed quiet until Y/n left the room completely.

“Do you have the ring?” Jeremy asked Alaric who had been out all day getting the ring Jeremy had bought for Y/n.

Alaric nodded reaching into his pocket getting the promise ring Jeremy had asked Alaric to get.

“Here it is. It’s a really nice ring. I thought it was an engagement ring at first.” Matt nodded as he leaned over to get a clear look of the silver banned ring with a small blue stone in the middle.

“What kind of stone is that?” Matt asked pointing to the blue shining stone.

“lapis lazuli gemstone. It’s the same stone that’s in their daylight rings. I thought I would make the ring special by putting a daylight stone inside of it. I even got Bonnie to activate it.”

“Got Bonnie to activate what?” Y/n asked as she came back into the room. A solo cup in hand along with a jack daniels bottle in hand. Jeremy jumped quickly putting the ring into his pocket.

“Oh I had to get Bonnie to activate my phone. You know me, not that tech savvy.” Alaric came up quickly as he gave Y/n a smile. Matt and Jeremy nodded agreeing that’s what they were talking about.

“Okay, well I stole a bottle of whiskey so we don’t have to drink any of that cheap beer. No offense Matt.” Matt shrugged and smiled.

“Alright, well Matt and I are gonna go in here and see if we can find the others.” Matt looked at Alaric confused, but Alaric gave Matt a glare which made him nod. “Yeah, Caroline owes me a drink anyway.”

Y/n watched as Alaric and Matt left leaving the two in the room alone.

“What was that all about?” She asked looking at Jeremy confused.

“Who knows, I think they’re a little too drunk.”

Y/n nodded as she looked into Jeremys brown eyes smiling.

“Thank you for everything. I’ve never had a birthday party.” Y/n thanked him leaning on her tip toes to kiss him.

“You’ve lived for over 100 years and never had a birthday party before?” Jermey asked as he laced his fingers with hers.

She nodded looking him.

“Yeah, I’ve never had one. I mean I was told happy birthday by my brothers and mom, but never had a party.”

“Well I guess we need to have this party even more memorable.” Jeremy said as he grabbed the ring out of his pocket.

“Baby, we’ve been together for three years. I’ve never been more in love with anyone that I have for you. I got you a promise ring,” he started pulling out the ring and showing it to Y/n. Y/n smiled as she looked up at Jeremy.

“This ring is a promise to you from me. A promise to be there for you whenever you need it. A shoulder for you to lean on in the time of need. To love you and to hold you at night. This promise ring is a symbol of my love to you. To show you my love. It's a promise to be faithful and love someone. Will you accept my promise?” Y/n was in tears, she had never had someone tell her they were so in love with her. It made her heart burst with love. She nodded with a teary smile.

“Of course I will!” She smiled as she slipped the ring in her ring finger.

“Now in a couple years you’ll be trading that for an engagement ring.” Damon spoke up as he walked into the room following close behind him were the rest of the gang.

“You guys knew about this?” Y/n asked as Jeremy wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Uh, yeah. Kinda the reason why we made you stay out all day.” Elena laughed at Caroline who was being so blunt.

“Well, thank you! This is the beat birthday ever. I couldn’t think of a better birthday.” Y/n smiled as she leaned her head against Jeremys shoulder.

“I love y’all.” Y/n said looking at her friends. Caroline smiled as she clapped her hands together. “Group hug!” She said forcing everyone to hug.

Yup definitely one of the best birthdays ever.

#the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #the originals #jeremy gilbert #tvd #tyler lockwood #x reader #supernatural #elena gilbert #jeremy gilbert imagine #jeremy gilbert x reader

[mrsalwayswritex]

Hazy Blazy Days

A/N: Image is not mine, if its yours tell me and ill slap some credit but until then, thanks photo owner! I have been working on this baby for weeks guys. I hope you like it, its literally like The Dream for me, so dont judge me too harshly, I just wanna smoke with my boys! Anyways, Happy 420 to my fellow smokers, I wish you all a good day during this lockdown. Stay safe and I love you all!

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Swearing, Illegal activities [recreational marijuana use]

Songs used: Idolize Stay Afloat Free Your Mind All three of these songs are Immortal Paradox, linked to Spotify. These songs are explicit*

When she woke up she knew it was a hibernate day, shuffling to the kitchen quickly, filling her arms with the things she deemed important. Bottles of water, granola bars and a bag of chocolate chips, various snack cakes, and a large to-go mug of coffee all tucked in her arms as she tried to hurry back to her room.

“Y/n?” Joe called from their shared living room. “Where are you running off to?” She could hear his footsteps getting closer. Joe let out a loud laugh at the sight he was met with. 

Y/n stood with her hands full of her haul, smiling as best as she could with the bag of chocolate chips between her teeth. Joe leaned forward and grabbed the bag as she dropped it. “Thanks! It's a hibernating day, would you like to join me?” She chirped happily, smiling at him.

Joe’s face broke into a wide grin and he nodded his head quickly, “I will grab the blanket and be in momentarily!” He spun on his heels, taking off towards his own room. Y/n skipped back to her room, depositing the pile of snacks on her small wheeled coffee table. Quickly making her bed, minus her giant fleece comforter, moving things around when Joe slid into the room. “I even changed for maximum comfort!” He spun around quickly, flashing her a dramatic smile at the end.

“Impressive, Mazzello.” Y/n clapped her hands just as dramatically. “Pull that over and let's get this thing going!” She climbed onto the bed, pulling her blanket close around her. Following her orders, Joe pulled the small table over until it was against the bed, climbing on top and curling himself inside his own blanket beside her. “Alright, Mazzello, pick your fighter.” Y/n waved her hands around, wiggling her fingers as she reached to the floor pulling up a medium sized wooden box covered in stickers and marker drawings.

Joe smiled at the box, reaching over and pulling it closer to him. Opening it carefully, laughing loudly. “You know, this box reeks of pot.” He chuckled, Y/n stuck her tongue out at him. 

“You know, I think that may be a requirement for a pot box, Joseph.” She rolled her eyes at him playfully, reaching into the box and pulling out the bag of the sweet smelling greenery. “If you don't pick, I will.” Y/n warned him, Joe putting his hands up in defense before digging into the box’s contents. His choice was a small but thick bong, swirled with blues and yellows. Joe presented his choice to her proudly and she nodded her head. “Daisy,” She cooed, taking it from his hands, “Good choice!” 

Once it was packed, Y/n pointed at a bottle of water, Joe handing it to her blindly as he scrolled through Hulu on her TV. Pouring in some of the water, she handed it to Joe along with a lighter. Joe cleared his throat, straightening his back out causing Y/n to chuckle and he glared at her. Covering her mouth with her hands, she directed her attention to the TV, taking over for Joe as she heard the bubbling sound of Joe hitting the bong.

For as long as Y/n could remember, she and Joe had been close friends. Finding each other quickly on their first day of high school, being the first two to be busted smoking marijuana behind the building and making fast friends in detention. She fondly thought back to that day so many years ago.

-

“Mr. Mazzello and Miss Taylor.” The science teacher grunted out, shoving the slip onto the desk. “Smoking on school property.” He turned around and glared at the two, both of them stifled a laugh. The grumpy man shook his head as he walked out mumbling something about ‘these damn teenagers’.

“Caught smoking on the first day?” The detention teacher looked at them disapprovingly over her glasses. 

The two glanced at each other and both started laughing, Joe reaching his hand across the aisle. “Joe Mazzello.” He gave her a smile, she reached out taking his hand and shaking it with an awkward laugh, “Y/n Taylor.”

Once the final bell rang, Y/n stood up, stretching her legs, kicking Joes chair and making his jump awake quickly. “Sorry, Joey.” She yawned, stretching her arms high. “Time to get outta here,” She smiled at him, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. “Walk me home?” 

Joe smiled at the girl sleepily. “You got it, babe.” Joe winked at her and she barked out a laugh. 

“Save it, Romeo.” She winked back at him and Joe trailed out the door after her. 

Joe lived on the other side of town, but he knew in that moment, he would follow Y/n anywhere, as long as she would have him.

They spent most afternoons at a park by the school, waiting until dark before finally heading home, Joe always walking her home before going himself. 

One evening, senior year, the two laid in the grass in Joe’s backyard passing a joint back and forth and staring at the sky. “You gonna ditch me in college when you get a girlfriend, Joey?” Y/n asked, putting her arms behind her head.

“I promise to stick with you forever, y/n.” Joe passed the joint over to her, “The best buds stick together, remember?”

The two were absolutely inseparable through the years, even choosing the same college, which they rented an apartment together. 

-

Y/n smiled at him, here they were, almost 13 years later, still the best of friends. Joe was staring at her, she shook her head clear of the memory. “Y/n? You still there?” He waved the bong in front of her face and laughed. “Where did you go?” He chuckled, as she took the bong from his hand.

“High school, actually.” She nudged him with her shoulder, Joe bumping her right back. “Detention that first day. How you made me a promise senior year to always stick with me, and here we are, over ten years later. Still hibernating and watching tv for the day.” Y/n hit the bong, coughing lightly before waving a hand in front of her face.

“Calm down, I'm here cause you always have the best weed, alright? Don't get all mushy on me.” Joe snatched the piece away from her, “It's been ten years, I don't have time to find another weed connection.”

“You love me and you know it, Mazzello.” She stuck her tongue out at him, swatting his chest and making him cough loudly. 

“You wish, Taylor.” Joe made a kissy face at his best friend and she returned the gesture mockingly, both of them laughing deeply.

Three episodes of American Dad later, the pair of them sat atop Y/n’s bed laughing lazily, Joe munching away on a fudge round. Y/n flopped around, restlessly moving across the bed. Joe laughed at her, “Just open the window, it'll be alright.” He laughed louder as she scrambled off the bed and over to the window quickly, shooting him a bright smile.

Opening the window and taking a deep breath of the crisp air, sitting on the window seat and pulling her legs to her chest tightly. Y/n pulled out a pack of Newports and fished around the seat for a lighter, Joe tossing one to her from the bed and lighting the tip. She blew the smoke out the window but it just blew right back inside, looking back to Joe with a shrug. 

“I'm gonna pack this up again, ‘kay?” Joe pointed to the bong and Y/n nodded her head slowly, the smoke curling up around her trying to make a smoke ring. Joe chuckled as he watched her, knowing that after all these years, she was bound to get one eventually, though she had failed this far. As soon as Y/n threw the cigarette out the window and made her way back to the bed, Joe’s phone started ringing a familiar tone. Joe’s face lit up like a kid on christmas as recognition passed over his face. “Ben!” He shouted into the phone, a deep laugh coming through the other end.

“Hey buddy,” Ben's accent came loudly through the speaker. “What’s going on?”

“Having a hibernation day with y/n,” Joe replied, Y/n shouting a happy hello. “What are you doing?” He handed the bong to the girl and she took it happily.

“Are you really hitting a bong while on the phone?” Ben whispered, chuckling softly. “I've got nothing planned, you wanna get together?” Ben was obviously asking Joe, so Y/n stayed quiet, picking at her nails when Joe tapped her leg and gave her a questioning look. “Joe?” Ben asked again, Y/n nodded at Joe with an exaggerated sigh and a smile.

“Sorry, was just waiting for confirmation from the boss, do you want to come hibernate with us?” Joe asked hopefully, even though he had seen Ben since he was in town, Joe was always desperate to see his best friend.

“What does that entail, exactly?” Ben chuckled lightly, a car door could be heard closing and starting. 

“Well it starts by you stopping at the store and grabbing provisions, first of all.” Y/n piped up, Joe cracking a smile, before she continued, “Second, you must wear something of the cotton variety, there is no denim allowed in hibernation. Last but certainly not least, you must be prepared for copious amounts of marijuana consumption.” Y/n laughed out, counting on her fingers though only Joe could see. “That’s it, that’s all there is to it!”

“You in, buddy?” Joe asked tauntingly, staring at his phone intently like he could change Ben’s mind through the phone.

“Text me a list of things you need, and give me a half hour.” Even if neither of them could see his face, they could hear the smile in his voice. “Let you know when I'm on the way to you.” The line clicked off and Joe and Y/n smiled, rearranging the room once more to accommodate another.

Forty five minutes later, Ben texted back saying that he was leaving the store, headed to them, five minutes at most. “Stretch break until Ben gets here?” Y/n asked, already kicking her legs out from her blanket, stretching her arms over her head. Joe groaned as he stood, squatting over and over. As the both shuffled towards the door, they could hear a soft knock. “You get him, I'm gonna go find him a big blanket so he can probably hibernate.” She chuckled, tapping Joe on the back lightly as they seperated down opposite sides of the hallway.

Y/n could hear the two boys talking excitedly to each other as she poked her head out to the living room. “Got the last blanket from the closet, Joe you better check to make sure he's following the rules!” She hollered out as she walked back to her room. 

“Sweat pants, no denim!” Joe called back, grabbing a bag from Ben’s hands. “Come on back, man!” Joe ushered his grandly down the hall, his best friend following with a chuckle.

When Ben walked into Y/n’s room, he looked around, “I would expect nothing less from you, Y/n.” He chuckled, fingers playing with the strings of fairy lights on the wall. “Smells like pot in here.” Joe chuckled, picking the bong up from the side table and waving it around, Y/n gestured to it grandly.

“If it didn't, Joe and I shouldn't be allowed to smoke anymore, cause we are doing it wrong.” Y/n giggled, patting the bottom portion of her bed. “Pop a squat, Benjamin, we gonna get you stoned.” She grinned up at him, pulling the blanket closer around her shoulders, snuggling inside. “I even brought you a cuddle blanket!” Her voice was muffled from the fluff around her face but she kicked a leg out and pushed the blanket around.

Ben chuckled at her, kicking off his shoes and dove onto the bed, making Y/n squeal and Joe lift the bong high in the air. “I cannot believe that I am a 29 year old man,” He started, burying his face into the soft blanket, “that has a designated ‘cuddle blanket’.” Chuckling and reaching his hand under the pile to poke at her leg. 

“You simply cannot hibernate without a pile of blankets, man.” Joe added, leaning into the middle of them holding the bong out. “Who lives next door?” He asked, and when both of their hands shot up at the same time, he pointed to his ear.

“Neighbor!” They shouted in unison, causing Joe to laugh loudly and shove the piece into Ben’s hands. “Ha!” Ben stuck his tongue out at Y/n and she snatched the lighter out of Joe’s hand.

“Ha, that!” She wrapped her blanket over her face and squealed loudly when, after handing the bong back to Joe with an eyeroll, Ben jumped onto her pile, tickling and poking all over until an arm reached out of the top, waving a lighter in defeat. Ben snatched the lighter up and dug his hands into the pile once more, earning a giggle before he sat back on his knees and took the bong back from Joe.

“You two are nauseating, you know that?” Joe commented, and once Y/n emerged from her hiding spot, hair a mess, Joe grabbed at her and pulled her over until she was laying with her torso on his, and wrapped her in his large arms. Y/n flailed a little but ultimately accepted the affection, returning it as best as she could in her blanket prison. “Just remember Ben, she was mine first.” Joe kissed the top of her head.

“She’s still yours, mate.” Ben choked on the smoke, eyes wide.

Joe rolled his eyes at him, looking down at Y/n who had gone still against his chest. “You are both idiots if you think that I don't know.”  The two of them looked at each other, the blush apparent on both of their faces. “Oh so we are pretending this isn't happening?” Joe raised his hands in defense, snatching the bong from Ben’s hands. “Whatever you guys want to do.”

Hours later, after a decision to switch to horror movies, the three of them were piled on top of each other. Joe was resting against the headboard, Y/n laying her head on his chest and Ben with his head resting on Y/n thighs. As soon as the credits rolled on screen, Ben rolled himself over, completely trapping Y/n’s legs and groaned loudly.

“What’s up, Benny?” Y/n yawned, her hand finding his head and running her fingers through his blond curls, earning a grumble of satisfaction from the man.

He stretched his arms out, wrapping them around her legs tightly, leaning his head father back into her hand. “Well I was going to suggest going for a ride,” He mumbled into her thigh, “but I may not be able to function if you keep that up, love.” His eyes closed and Y/n switched to running her nails along his scalp, pulling another happy groan from him.

Joe looked down at the two of them, shaking his head lightly. Y/n saw the gesture and smacked her other hand down onto his chest, Joe making an oof sound and laughing when she pulled herself off of him. “A ride actually sounds fantastic, as long as I don't have to drive and” She raised her finger to both boys, “I ride shotgun.” As soon as the words left her lips, Joe and Ben both sat up, voices raised in argument but Y/n just covered her hands over her ears smiling wildly.

“You can have shotgun, only if you roll on demand!” Ben offered, sticking his hand out in her direction, Y/n cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’ve got a deal, Jones.” She slapped her hand to his and they shook vigorously, both laughing. Joe picked that moment to stick a freshly packed bowl in between them. Y/n cooed happily, taking the offered piece from him. “Oh, Joseph, what would I do without you.” She leaned back and kissed his cheek.

“You would perish, surely.” Joe smiled down at the girl, booping his finger on the tip of her nose.

“My hero.” She swooned dramatically against her pillows.

“And you said we are nauseating.” Ben mocked them, rolling his eyes. He smacked his hand gently on Y/n’s calf and she yelped in surprise. “Hit that, get it rolling so we can get rolling.” Ben stood, stretching his arms high in the air, Y/n totally did not notice the way his shirt rode up just a bit with the action.

Passing the bowl back and forth, the three of them slowly gathered all of the items needed for the ride and by the time the bowl was empty. Y/n pushed them out of the room and changed into shorts and then they were ready to walk out the door. “I'll drive, if it can be Ben’s car.” Joe raised a hand in the air and Ben shot him a glare. “Hey man, I'm offering to drive.” Ben growled at him playfully, digging his keys from his pocket and tossing them to Joe. 

“I can't believe I’ve got to ride in the backseat of my own car.” Ben grumbled, reaching for the door handle. Y/n stuck her tongue out at him, sliding into the front seat. “Oh stop at the station on the way, we didn't bring our provisions with us.” He leaned forward between the front seats as Joe pulled out of the driveway, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Y/n pulled the aux cord to the back seat and offered it to Ben with a smile.

“You can at least have music choice, since you gotta ride bitch.” She winked and Ben rolled his eyes, plugging his phone in and hitting shuffle before tossing it up to her. “You better have good burn run music, Jones.” Y/n playfully warned him.

Joe pulled up to a gas pump, offering to fill Ben’s tank fully for this ride if he went in to pay. Ben agreed happily and Y/n offered to go with him, getting Joe’s order of gummy bears and a Pepsi as she skipped to catch up to him. “I've got tiny legs, Ben, move slower!” She shouted and he turned around with a laugh. He crouched down ever so slightly but Y/n understood.

“Hop up, small fry.” Ben chuckled, grunting softly when she launched herself at his back, wrapping his hands under her thighs and bouncing her up higher. She wrapped her arms around his neck loosely and planted a loud kiss to his temple. Ben shook his head with a smile. “You are spoiled, you know that right?” He glanced up at her and she grinned back down at him, nodding happily.

Ben and Y/n were in and out of the store quickly, Ben chasing a squealing Y/n as they crossed the parking lot. He collided with her when they reached the car, Ben trapping her squirming form by locking her in place with a hand on the car on either side of her, leaning his head down to her ear. “Got you.” He breathed and she shivered, but playfully pushed against his chest. Ben backed away with a smirk on his face.

“Get in the damn car, lovebirds.” Joe whined, leaning in the roof of the car. Y/n shot him the finger before turning her back to Ben to get into the car. “Seriously are you guys just fucking with me or are you both seriously that niave?” Joe chuckled dryly, leaning down to get into the driver's seat. Once all three of them were inside, Joe grinned wickedly and looked to Y/n. “Get ready to roll, babe, we taking the scenic route.” He winked and patted her thigh.

Y/n kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs onto the seat under her, smacking a hand on her legs. “I'm ready, boss.” She smiled back at him, holding a hand out expectedly. “You know the drill, gimme the bag for the ride.” She turned her head back to Ben. “If you got any, give it to me, Benny.” Ben barked out a laugh and shook his head, Y/n looking at him strangely. He winked at her and Joe shook his head with a sigh. “You wish.” She rolled her eyes.

“We want some rap or some rock?” Ben asked, changing the subject quickly and plugging his phone back into the aux cord. “I found this new rapper that I’ve been really enjoying lately.” Y/n nodded her head enthusiastically as he pressed play. “His name is Immortal Paradox, he's pretty good!” He grinned from the backseat as the rapper started talking softly over the speaker.

 “You kids gotta find somebody better to Idolize..”

“Did he just say Drug Abuse?” Joe cocked his head to the side with a chuckle.

“It's a key element of the song, Joe.” Ben smiled back at his friend. He leaned his head back and sang along to the song with a grin. “Please oh please don't Idolize me, I'm a egoistic narcissist who lacks empathy, a judgemental bastard with insecurities, imma free spirit who's never been free. Long days longer nights in a mental cage, and I bottle massive amounts of rage, never meant to be a leader on the stage cause my lyrics seem lethal when they hit the page.” 

“Wow Ben, this song really speaks to you doesn't it?” Y/n stuck her tongue out at him but bobbed her head along to the beat. “It's pretty good, you pass this test.” She winked and turned herself back around and pulled out Joe’s bag and began breaking it up and sprinkling it into the folded paper. Ben scooted himself over in the back seat so he could watch her fingers work over the green bud, rolling it into the paper gently. He leaned forward, sticking his head between the front seats. Y/n caught the movement and smiled softly before licking the edge of the paper.

“Anyone ever tell you that you look absolutely lovely rolling a joint, Y/n dear.” Ben sighed dreamily, eyes not leaving hers. Before she could respond, Joe’s arm was flying towards her and the car was being tanked back into the other lane. Y/n and Ben both gasped slightly, Y/n gripping tightly onto the still open bag in her lap, 

“Joe!” She screeched as her drink rolled onto the floor.

“I'm sorry! We’re good!” Joe gave her a weak smile, straightening out the car easily. “I just got a little distracted is all.” He reached over and laid his hand on her leg, squeezing comfortingly. 

“Don't wreck my car, mate.” Ben grumbled from the backseat. Joe raised his hand from Y/n’s leg in defense before dropping it back to her leg. Ben watched the movement carefully, seeing the two best friends share a smile and Joe squeezing her leg again before they both changed their attention, Joe’s on driving and Y/n’s on the almost finished joint. Ben leaned back in the seat and smiled at the scene. He really lucked out in the friend department when he met Joe, and with Joe came Y/n and he couldn’t have asked for better people.

“Fire in the hole!” Y/n shouted happily and both boys joined in on her cheering. She put the joint up to her lips and fished a lighter out of her pocket, lighting the tip and inhaling softly as she spun the joint around gently. Once she was satisfied it was burning evenly, she passed it back to Ben who took it with an approving nod. Y/n watched him close his eyes and took turns hitting the joint and mouthing along to the lyrics.

“How ‘bout you, what’s your vice? Let me know, do you have any advice? Drink and Smoke help me stay afloat. Not a single fuckin thing gonna sink by boat.” Ben sang as he leaned forward and passed the joint to Joe over his shoulder, continuing the song as he nodded his head along to the beat and shooting Y/n a smirk when he caught her eye.

It was about forty-five minutes later when Joe swerved back into the left lane again, Y/n shot him a glare. “Joseph, if you kill me right now I will be so mad at you.” She raised a finger and poked him in the shoulder. “Maybe it’s time for Ben to drive.”

Ben nodded his head happily, tapping Joe on the shoulder quickly. “Yes, let’s do that. You’ve probably raised my insurance in the last hour.” Joe gave another squeeze to Y/n’s leg before pulling into the first parking lot he came across. “Let’s get some fresh air and stretch a little before we head back out yeah?” All agreeing, Joe went to turn the car off when Ben stopped him. “Leave it, we will just turn up the music, it's not like anyone is around here to complain.” He gestured around the empty church parking lot, not seeing another building in the area.

The three of them found themselves all laying on the trunk of Ben’s car, Y/n sandwiched between the two of them. “Why aren’t we smoking right now?” Joe piped up on Y/n’s left and both she and Ben turned their heads towards him. “Like here we are, just laying here and staring at the dark sky. We should be smoking.” He spoke with one hand behind his head and the other wildly gesturing around. Sitting up quickly and sliding off the car easily. “I shall return.” He bowed deeply, pulling laughs from the other two who settled back into staring up when he sat in the passenger seat, pulling the bag and papers from the center console.

“Turn it up!” Ben shouted as he heard the song change. When the music got louder, Ben started singing along, y/n turning her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, lips moving quickly to keep up with the lyrics. “If you flirt with me I'll be nervous but never hesitate, I'm so in love with you and life and that is always relevant.” His eyes stayed closed, but y/n watched his eyes crinkle up in a smile, turning his head towards her as he kept going, “hypothetically if we both got amnesia, I’d ask you for those digits when our spirits meet up.” When he finished, he opened his eyes and his cheeks heated when he saw that Y/n was staring at him with a soft admiring smile on her face.

“Thanks for inviting me today, love.” Ben used the hand that wasn't under his head to reach down and pat her knee that she had pulled up on the trunk. “I would have just ended up smoking by myself and probably falling asleep on the couch watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine.” He laughed and she turned her head to face him, looking at him seriously.

“You are welcome any time to join us, Ben, you know that.” She gave him a genuine smile and he grinned back. “I'm serious, you're at our place almost as much as we are, plus you make a perfect third for Joe and I.” Y/n patted his chest a few times before settling back into her position.

“That sounds..” Ben laughed deeply and shook his head, “..very raunchy.” 

“In a perfect world, maybe.” She winked at his shocked face, “But alas, you both suck too much.” 

“Who is sucking what?” Joe popped up beside the trunk with an eyebrow raised, presenting the fat rolled joint to Y/n.

“You, if you ask nicely.” Ben blew a kiss to his friend and Joe winked back. Y/n snorted loudly, reaching a hand out to Joe, who helped pull her into a sitting position. Ben looked at the window where Y/n was sitting. “Hell of a time for me to decide to get out of the back seat.” He waggled his eyebrows at Joe who laughed and pointed at Ben with a nod. 

“You are both gross.” She lit the joint and crossed her arms, letting the joint hang from her lips. “I hope I leave an ass print on the window and then you can't see out of it.” Y/n ended the sentence with both her middle fingers up, causing both men to chuckle. 

“I will happily give up my line of sight for your ass print to be on my window, love.” Ben elbowed her in the side and dropped his head onto her shoulder. “You should know that would be my choice.”

“He’s right, you should know that he would choose your ass over just about anything by this point, right buddy?” Joe extended his fist towards Ben who responded by bumping his own fist against it and nodding his blond head quickly. 

“You are correct, good sir.”

“I hate you both.” Y/n grumbled, rolling her eyes and blowing the smoke out harshly, handing the joint to Joe. “Honest.”

Ben and Joe stared at each other for a second before they turned to her, both leaning towards her in sync. “No you don’t.” Ben whispered close to her face and Joe was close behind him, inching towards her face. 

“You love us.” Joe laughed and the two of them alternated tickling and peppering little kisses all over her cheeks. Y/n squealed and wiggled, but neither man let up.

“Honestly, I cannot stand either of you.” She squirmed, flailing her arms and legs as much as she could without actually injuring them. “You are both awful humans.” Y/n finally huffed out, pushing them away and crossed her arms again, blowing a few stray strands of hair on her face from the struggle.

“Yes,” Joe agreed, “But we are awful and you love us anyways.” He reached forward and ruffled her already messy hair.

“Can we just get back on the road? You are both awful company.” She huffed out, shooting Ben a small smile when she noticed him staring at her.

“Yes, your highness,” Ben sighed dramatically and looked at her expectantly. Joe barked out a loud laugh and Y/n dropped her head to her chest. 

“That was awful.” Joe shook his head and swatted at Ben.

“Truly awful.” Y/n agreed, using Joe’s outstretched hand to pull herself off the trunk. “I'm thinking I'll roll one more and we take the super long way home.” She grabbed the joint back from Ben and placed it between her lips as she adjusted her shorts and pulled her hair tie out, flipping her long hair over and pulling it back up quickly. When she stood up, both boys were looking at her with lazy smiles. “What are you looking at?”

“Just you, babe.” Joe reached for her, wrapped her in his arms as she accepted the hug right away. “I'm glad you're my best friend.” He smiled at her as she wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Oi, what about me?” Ben put his hand to his chest in mock offense. “Am I chopped liver now?”

Joe threw one hand out and grabbed Ben’s sweatshirt and pulled him into the embrace. Y/n yelped as she was once again sandwiched between them. “Both of you. I'm glad you're both my best friend.” Joe mumbled into the pile. Y/n pushed her hands against Joe’s chest and her back against Ben’s chest to break up the weird hug.

“Great, now we are all nauseating.” Y/n playfully jabbed at the two of them before she raised her hand in the air, circling it around. “Let’s wrap this up, I'm getting cold and my blanket is calling me.” She pumped her fist in the air and stomped over to the passenger side door.

“You heard the boss.” Joe clapped his hand on Ben’s shoulder as he rounded the back of the car. Ben smiled at them both before opening the driver door and slid inside, adjusting the seat with a glare at Joe. “Not my fault you're shorter than me.” He shrugged and Ben flipped him off.

Once they were back on the road, the joint burnt down to a stub, Y/n threw it out the window and pulled her legs up to begin rolling the last one. “Left, Right, or Straight.” Ben would ask randomly, turning in whichever direction was chosen. Y/n and Joe took turns answering him until they were happily lost. Ben kept fidgeting with his right hand, moving it back and forth between the shifter and his lap before Y/n grabbed his hand and set it on her leg. He smiled at the girl and she grinned back at him.

“It helps Joe drive calmer,” She shrugged and turned up the music, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the seat. Ben caught Joe’s smile in the rearview and looked away quickly. Ben relaxed in the seat a little more, holding the steering wheel loosely in one hand and the other hand tracing small circles where his hand touched Y/n.

Another 20 minutes of driving and Ben smacked his hand on the steering wheel happily, “I know where we are, maybe 35 minutes out.” He tapped Y/n’s leg lightly and she lifted her head sleepily. “Are you ready to smoke one more before you get to go to bed, lovey?” 

“I'm ready.” She yawned and Ben smiled fondly at her. Pulling the joint from behind her ear, and lit the tip. Sighing contentedly as she let the smoke curl out of her mouth. “I am also ready for bed.” She stifled another yawn, and hit the joint once more before handing it back to Joe. Weaving her arm under Ben’s, she rested her hand on his leg too. “This ok?” 

Ben looked at her hand and back at her face quickly, “It’s perfect.” He smiled at her and the way she smiled back, Ben could have died happily right then and there. She bobbed her head to the music and the rest of the joint was passed between them without words. Ben tapped his elbow on the center console, “Smokes in there, could you light me one?” Y/n nodded, tossing the roach out of the window and grabbing the pack. Soon they were back in Joe and Y/n’s neighborhood.

“You should probably just crash at our place, buddy. Better than you falling asleep on the ride home.” Joe offered, covering his own yawn. “My couch is your couch.” Y/n nodded her head in agreement, gathering the supplies and shoving them in her pockets. “‘Cause I know I'm beat.” 

“I will take you up on that offer, I think.” Joe chuckled as Ben fought his own yawn back.

All three of them slid out of the car and shuffled back to the apartment. Y/n went straight to the kitchen, putting on a kettle for tea before going back to her room and changing back into her leggings. Walking over to the window seat again, she pulled a cigarette out from her pack, a soft knock on her door pulling her attention back to earth. “Can I grab my cuddle blanket real quick?” Ben’s soft voice floated through the barely opened door. 

“Yeah, come on in. Hey I'm making tea, if your british self would like some before bed.” Y/n grinned at him, and he smiled brightly back at her with a nod. “I'm glad you are our third.” she added after a minute. Spending a lazy day with Ben, she realized, was one of her best days in a while.

“Yeah, I am too.” Ben grabbed his blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders. Instead of leaving like she expected him to, he sat across from her and snatched the cigarette out of her hand. His leg bounced lightly and he looked anywhere but at her. “Was Joe right earlier?” He breathed out with a cloud of smoke.

“What do you mean?”

“Are we just being naive?” Hitting the cigarette again and handing it back, blowing the smoke out in a huff and looking back at her. “Are we not seeing what's going on here?” 

“What’s exactly is going on here, Ben?” Y/n tilted her head to the side with a small smirk. Could he be serious? Y/n hoped that Ben wouldn't be able to hear her heart pounding wildly in her chest. She kept his gaze as she brought the cigarette to her lips, tilting it to the other side when Ben smiled and looked away and back quickly.

“Well I don't know about you,” He started, grabbing the cigarette from her again. Blowing out the smoke slowly, like he was trying to calm his own heartbeat. “But I spend a lot of time thinking about kissing you.” His eyes flicked to hers and he sucked in a deep breath and held it as he studied her face.

Y/n’s cheeks flushed and she chuckled. “Is that so?” Nodding her head softly. “Now what would you say if I told you, that I spend a lot of time thinking about kissing you as well?”

Ben’s smile was so wide that Y/n couldn't hold back a soft giggle. Hitting the cigarette once more, Ben crushed it out in the ashtray and within seconds he had one hand cupping her chin, brushing his lips over hers gently. Y/n responded instantly, bringing a hand up to the back of Ben’s neck and sinking her fingers into the soft curls, both of them letting out happy sounds at the contact. 

“I would say that this is going to happen a lot more often now.” He brushed his thumb over her cheek and she leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. “But right now, your couch calls my name.” He kissed her forehead quickly before standing up and pulling his blanket closer. “And the water is calling yours. Let’s go have some tea before bed.” He held his hand out to her and when she took it, he interlaced their fingers and traced circles with his thumb.

While y/n busied herself in the kitchen, the boys settled into the living room, and when she walked back into the room she noticed her favorite spot open, the center of the couch, right between her two favorite humans. Three cups of tea and one final bowl packed and passed between them as they relaxed on the couch. Y/n smiled at the two boys, her two best friends. “Alright boys, I think that this is it for me.” Draining her tea cup and standing with a groan, Y/n walked behind Joe and grabbed his face with both hands, planting a kiss to his forehead while Joe wrapped an arm around her tightly. When she walked over to Ben, she repeated the gesture of grabbing his face with both hands but she pressed a kiss on his lips instead. “I'm off to bed, love you guys.” She yawned once more and gave a small wave as she disappeared for the hallway. Both boys muttering their goodnights before Joe swatted Ben’s arm playfully.

“It’s about damn time.” Joe threw his hands in the air happily.

“You may have been right.” Ben huffed out a laugh but smiled anyways. “But I’ll never tell you that.”

x

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy fanfic #joe mazzello #joe mazzello fanfiction #joe mazzello fanfic #stoner fic #HAPPY 420 GUYS #recreational drug use #pot smoking #my writing

[victoriouscabaret]

Dear Friend Who Is Gone Now,

My funeral home took care of you when you died in October. The cause was not immediately clear, and we hadn’t spoken in years, but I was truly gutted when I saw your name come up on my releases board. I remember hoping it was a coincidence. Just someone with the same name. This eventually proved not to be the case. You were dead at 30.

We were close in high school and kept in touch in the years following. We used to skip second period and hang out at the McDonalds nearby and show each other music we were into. I showed you The Dresden Dolls, you got me into Tenacious D. You borrowed my iPod for an evening and downloaded all of my music to yours, and uploaded your library to mine. I frequently rag on the Red Hot Chili Peppers to this day, but they always reminded me of you.

On our last day of high school, we convened at McDonalds and armed with a huge stack of PostIt notes and a rainbow of Sharpies, we set to writing our favourite song lyrics, random quotes, and other nonsense on each and every note before giggling our way back to school, where we spent the afternoon decorating the entire building with our multicoloured paper flags of fun. It was stupid, and not reaaaaally a prank, but we wanted to leave our mark on the place, and we did. I still have a library of dozens of goofy selfies we took that day with my hot pink digital camera.

After graduation, I’d see you once or twice a year into my twenties, either at shows or elsewhere. We’d always manage to find a reason to get together even if it had been ages. One weekend when I was still living at home, my Dad was out of town so I invited you and one of my girlfriends over to hang out and do dumb 18 year old stuff. We wound up back in the parking lot of our old McDonald’s haunt at like ten at night, buying a dimebag of weed from a really sketchy dude while all sorts of other really sketchy shit was taking place around us in the not-so-great part of town where we grew up. The three of us walked back to my house and drank shitty, sweet booze that appeals to teenagers, and sat in the treehouse my Dad built for me, smoking weed, getting drunk, and laughing at everything the other one said. It was one of the most fun nights of my youth. No one got sick, no one got too drunk, no one got in trouble or upset. That night, we just enjoyed life, and I’m so glad you were there.

On my twentieth birthday, I was really sad because my boyfriend at the time was in Bible school a province away and I couldn’t contact him and I was still super raw about it. You joined me, and two of my other close friends and we went to a pub show hosted by some people I knew. I got so incredibly loaded that night, and was constantly beset by this other dude that we went to high school with that wouldn’t take “I have a boyfriend, leave me alone.” For an answer, and instead of picking a fight with him or getting shitty, you just made sure *I* was having fun. I had so much fun I ended up passing out in the back of the bar and puked into the vent next to the Foozeball table before you all carried me out and packed my into my best friend’s car. She drove you home while I was in the back with you, puking occasionally into a plastic bag, and slumped over on my other friend’s lap. I don’t remember what you said when you were dropped off, but I do recall you leaning into the car after you got out, with your big, classic smile, and just looking like the shining beacon of chill happiness and good will I knew you to be.

I might have seen you a time or two after that, but we ended up drifting apart, as people do. Through my twenties, as I did with many bygone friendships from school, I’d wonder how you were doing every now and then. You weren’t active on Facebook, and I had no way of getting in touch with you, and events that were happening in my own life prevented me from putting in the effort aside from the occasional look-up on Facebook.

I was cruising the local paper obits on their website this week and noticed your family had submitted one for you earlier this month. They included your Reddit username, mentioning you were quite active on the site, so out of curiosity I took a look and found a post from your stepmom in r/StopDrinking which revealed how you died. I saw your other posts in the sub over the past year or so, where you expressed your struggle with drinking, and your desire to quit.

I’m so sorry for what happened. I’m so sorry that the help that you needed didn’t come at the right time. I’m sorry that you felt you needed to struggle through this alone despite having parents and a best friend that would have helped however they could, and that that loneliness was at the very least contributory to your death, if not the outright cause of it. I’ve been lucky through this pandemic to live with someone, and still be leaving the house for work every day, and even with those factors, the isolation I’ve felt over the past year has been challenging. I don’t know your circumstances, why you drank, or when it got so bad that you were unable to quit on your own, but I’m still reeling from the loss.

You were one of the most effortlessly kind people I ever knew. You never had a bad word to say about anybody, which I mean... most people say when their waxing bereaved about a person, but in your case that was a hell of an accomplishment in fucking high school where EVERYBODY had a problem with somebody at some point. You never got tangled up in drama or bullshit. You were a band kid for fuck sake. Those were some of the most dramatic people I knew. But you were different. Our little group of friends didn’t fit neatly into typical high school stereotypes. We weren’t strictly art kids, or athletes, or particularly academically brilliant. We weren’t “losers” or “friendless” but we were a bit different I guess because we didn’t fit tidily into the same boxes that the majority of students did.

You were a bit quiet and shy, yeah, but you’d never shy away from saying hi to someone new, or doing something fun. You were one of the extremely few male friends I had in those years that seemed to enjoy being around me for the sake of having a good time. You never hit me with any sleazy comments about my teenage appearance. You never sent me weird texts or Facebook messages with revelations of your romantic feelings. You were a safe friend that treated me with genuine respect and kindness. I never felt threatened by you, or like you had ulterior motives by being my friend.

Mostly, I’m being nostalgic, and sad, and saying these things because I feel like I need to write all of this out to start coping with the sad reality of your death. The injustice of this world being without you and your beautiful kind soul, and your family being without you, and your best friend being without you breaks my heart. I won’t get lost in the world of “well what if I had done things differently” because I see enough of that at work to know that following that line of thinking is counterproductive self-crucifixion, but I just hope you managed to look back on our time together with a smile every now and then, and I hope you know that you’ll forever have a home in my heart.

All of the love, 11 am cheeseburgers, and cheap weed, forever my dude. Please save some Post-Its for me.

XOXOXO

V.

#death #death cw #death trigger warning #alcohol #alcoholism #alcohol cw #alcohol trigger warning

[serendipitous-magic]

⭐️

(For the “Reblog this if you want readers to come into your ask box and ask for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines.  Or, send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!” post)

Okay, okay, okay - so this is in Ch 1 of TRS3, and I’m gonna chatter a tad about a section near the beginning, in Dustin’s POV. 

-_-_-_-

“You’ve been away a whole month, honeybun, maybe they just...” She wiggled her shoulders with a tilt of her head. “Forgot.”

She didn’t mean him. Of course she didn’t mean that they forgot him. She meant the radios; she meant they forgot what channel they’re supposed to be on. Or that they forgot what day he was coming home. She didn’t mean that they forgot about Dustin himself.

It’s just, it’s not exactly reassuring, you know? It’s the middle of summer already. All the roads are lined with tall, dark weeds. In a few days, everything will smell like sparkler smoke and kettle corn from the annual 4th of July fair. When he left it was barely June, and the weeds along the roadside were little more than sprouts. What else has happened since he left? What else has changed?

Okay so this is the first time I’ve written from Dustin’s POV, so this opening scene with him was a bit of a trial run. I had to establish several things, specifically for Dustin’s character in this story and where his arc starts out.

In this story, Dustin is starting out his arc in a place where he’s a little uncertain of his worth. Here, that specifically means within the Party. As we’ve seen, the Party in general has kind of started drifting apart this summer. Oh, they still hang out all the time, but they’re starting to push more towards “teenage” activities, most of them in a hurry to grow up and leave behind what happened to them as kids (except for Will, who’s clinging to the childhood that was stolen from him, but that’s another discussion). This push to “move on,” combined with the fact that Dustin has been away at summer camp for a whole month, leaves him a little worried that they may have moved on without him. 

Lately - probably ever since the Snow Ball, actually - it’s felt like everything has been changing, and not necessarily in a good way. So when Dustin goes away for a month and comes back and it’s like the whole summer has been going on without him (which... it has, really), he’s not feeling great about it.

Secondly: this scene is lifted nearly straight from the trailer we got (since for this fic I’m considering most S3 trailer/promo material “canon,” and then picking and choosing from the show). So, it’s not exactly how the scene in the show went down, but it’s pretty close to how I expected it to go down based on that one trailer we got. So that was fun to kind of re-imagine a little bit (although I think it ended up fairly close to the Netflix version, thus far).

A muffled little tink draws his attention to the vivarium on his left, where Yurtle is bumping against the side, stumpy little legs flailing as he fails to comprehend glass. Dustin grins at him.

“At least someone’s happy to see me.”

Yurtle continues his mission to pass through the solid glass wall, unperturbed by his complete lack of success. Determined little guy. Never gets very far, but he tries.

I love Yurtle. 

Dustin isn’t worried about it - the Party, that is. Honestly, he’s not. It’s not like they’ve all been acting weird for the past few months anyway. It’s not like ever since El reappeared Mike has been MIA more often than not, visiting her at the cabin for as long as Hopper will allow. It’s not like Max and Lucas have developed their own little language and routine together - not just boyfriend and girlfriend, but best friends. It’s not like Will has been a slightly different person since... well, since everything. It’s not like he misses how the Party used to be.

And here’s more of Dustin feeling a little insecure about the Party moving on without him - but more than that, I also needed to establish, in this first chapter, where the Party starts out in this story. Recap style. “Last time on: Hawkins, December through June.” What do we need to know to jump right into the story and have all the information we need? Mike has been hanging with El constantly. The Party is being a little weird (as discussed above). Everyone is kind of paired off except for Will and Dustin (until Suzie). Will is having Struggles (TM). Boom, boom, boom. We know what we need to; now on to the plot.

But Dustin doesn’t like to mope. He slaps his thighs and stands up, reaching into the vivarium to turn Yurtle around. Yurtle lumbers off towards his pool, apparently assured that his ability to move is due to his own success, and Dustin hums along with the radio as he unzips his duffel bag with a flourish. Who is he to complain? He just got back from possibly the most amazing summer camp ever. He’s got the whole rest of the summer ahead of him. He’s got things to do. Places to go. Popsicles to eat. (You know what they don’t have at Camp Know Where? Otter pops. Unbelievable, right? Three hundred acres, over five hundred campers and dozens of counselors, and not a single person could produce even one pack of sugary, brightly colored frozen goodness.)

He’s got plans. Specifically, an invention to get up and running - and he has the perfect place in mind. He bets he can get the gang to help him set it up - if they’d just answer.

Dustin is a fairly optimistic and resourceful person. We’ve seen that in seasons 1 and 2. He’s often underestimated, because he seems a little goofy at first glance - which he is, to be fair. But he’s also a problem-solver. He’s smart, and he doesn’t like to just sit and watch a problem get worse. He takes action. He’ll go to the library before school to check out extra books against the rules so he can identify the creature he found in his garbage. He’ll send his mom out of the house by having a fake one-person conversation on the phone, and then armor up in sports gear and single-handedly lure a baby demogorgon into the cellar. He’s not one to laze around and mope about his problems. 

So this ^ here is an example of me trying to feel out how this character thinks and acts, and portray it accurately (because, again, I’ve never written Dustin’s POV before.)

Okay, maybe he’s a little unsettled. The Party doesn’t just go radio silent on each other, okay? Because when a Party member goes radio-silent, it usually means that something is wrong. Really wrong.

His eyes slide over the stain in his carpet. It’s a barely-perceptible rusty brown, now, blending in with the striped carpet unless you know just where to look. He had to tell his mom it was spaghetti sauce.

Will wasn’t the only member of the Party who was scarred by what happened last fall. Everyone in the Party went through some shit, to varying degrees. Maybe Dustin wasn’t possessed by a shadow monster, but he did witness his cat being disemboweled and eaten by a baby demogorgon, and then he had to face said baby demogorgon, and scrub cat blood out of his carpet, and all the while make sure his mom wasn’t gonna be around to get hurt, and that would be pretty rough to go through for an adult - and Dustin was thirteen. (And that’s not even to mention the whole fighting-demodogs-with-Steve and infiltrating-the-Mind-Flayer’s-tunnels business.) 

His toy robot starts marching out of the corner just as Dustin turns away, chattering unintelligibly in its perpetual-low-battery fizzle, red eyes glowing.

Wait.

What.

Dustin turns back, slowly, and this time the robot is joined by a toy tank and R2D2.

Now, he’s no expert, but in Dustin’s fourteen years of experience on earth, toys don’t come alive.

I just love that little bit. 

Also, I REALLY REALLY WANTED TO FIND A WORD THAT MEANT “TOY EXPERT” BUT I COULDN’T FIND ONE. Like, the same way you might say, “Now, I’m no  podiatrist, but in my experience that’s too many toes for one foot.” That kind of tone. But apparently there’s not a word for “toy expert,” at least not that I could find. Everything google gave me when I typed that in was sex toy related lol. Not what I was going for. 

-_-_-_-

And that’s that little bit! It was fun doing Dustin’s POV, and this fic will be a fun challenge in that I usually write (at least in this fandom) nearly exclusively from Mike or Will’s POV, and in TRS3 we’re gonna get Dustin, Joyce, Nancy, Hop, Billy, the Mind Flayer... So, that’ll be a fresh challenge for me!

Thanks for the ask! I am also working on the others, I just completely forgot what the stars meant because I’m dumb lol

#asks #anon #trs3 #writing memes #writing commentary

[eldritchsurveys]

418.

How many times a day do you check your cell to see if you have a text? >> I used to have to check it every few hours because I don’t usually have it on me unless I’m actively using it, and I don’t always hear or feel the vibration. But the other day I got fed up with missing texts from Sparrow (I missed one where she asked me if I wanted cheesecake!!!!) because I’m not surgically grafted to my phone, so I downloaded the notification sound I used to have (a clip of EDI from Mass Effect alerting the Commander to new messages) and now I won’t miss a text unless I have headphones on. ...Which will probably be a thing that happens eventually. :| Ever wonder if the person you hate will become the person you marry? >> I don’t hate anyone, and I’m pretty sure if I ever did go so far as to hate someone, I’d definitely not ever want to be around them. If you could live in three places, a year each, where would they be? >> Hm. How many times a day do you wash your hands? >> However many times I go to the bathroom that day. Your choice of transportation for anything: camel, jet pack or carriage? >> Er.

You walk in on your parents smoking pot, what do you do? >> --- How old were you when you had your first crush? >> --- Does your imagination get the best of you a lot? >> I don’t think so. When was the last time you asked God for something? >> I don’t ask God for anything, nor do I ask Wednesday for anything. I don’t believe that that’s what gods are for -- bestowing boons on me at my behest. I mean, obviously gods canonically do that for people, but I don’t think that’s their purpose in my life.

Ever woken up with a smile on your face for no reason? >> I don’t think so. Your opinion on smoking: >> I have little desire to resume the habit, and I’d prefer not to be around people who are smoking cigarettes (because now I hate how they smell). I don’t care at all if it’s weed or whatever. Make love or fuck? >> It’s all the same to me, neither of those terms sounds better than the other. When you have kids, do you want the first one to be a boy or a girl? >> --- When you were 12, what did you want to be when you grew up? >> I don’t know. Have you ever cried so much over something that later felt like nothing? >> I mean, yeah, that’s kind of how emotions work. The last time you were afraid of the dark was: >> I’ve never been afraid of the dark. Ever thought something was funny and laughed really loud & no one else did? >> Probably. Humour is subjective. How often do you say I love you to your parents and mean it? >> --- If you HAD to choose, who would you say you love more? Mom or Dad? >> --- Do you LOVE twilight? >> Nah. If yes why? If no why? >> I didn’t enjoy the book, and I barely remember the movie. I’m just not the target demographic. Think of a movie and now give me that movie title: >> Interstellar. Quote a line from that movie: >> “You were my ghost!” /cheating (that is way too easy of a line lmao but I have a horrendous memory for quotes) Name a song: >> Scared of the Dark (XXXTENTACION, Lil Wayne, Ty Dolla $ign). It’s randomly stuck in my head for some reason. What’s a line from that song? >> Why would a star, a star ever be afraid of the dark? What’s the last word spelled backwords of that line? >> Krad. Do you enjoy these strange/interesting questions? >> Hm. Whats the relationship between you and the last person you texted? >> We’re engaged. What color was George Washington’s white horse? >> Was it not white? How many vowels are in your full name? >> Seven. What would your name be if you replaced T’s with S’s & A’s with E’s? >> I don’t have any Ts in my name. Would you ever legally change you name to that? >> --- Do you think it’s strange how this survey went from kinda deep to…not? >> I’ve been taking surveys for a decade and a half, nothing about them is strange anymore. Your boyfriend/girlfriend say they can’t hang out & it’s been two weeks. You? >> --- What would you do for a klondike bar? >> Nothing, I don’t eat Klondike bars. Which do you like better Klondike bars or Drumsticks? >> Neither. Ice cream with cake or pie? >> Pie. Do I sound like I just got hungry? >> I wasn’t really paying attention. When was the last time you fell asleep in a car? >> I don’t remember. How often do you think about death? >> Fairly often, as it’s a special interest of mine. Have you ever wanted a wild animal for a pet? If yes what animal? >> No. When you go to sleep, do you have to have white noise or silence? >> I prefer silence. Last dream you had was about: >> I have no idea. Have you ever gotten in a fight with a teacher? >> Yeah. Not a physical one, though. Ever had a creepy dream about a teacher? >> Not that I recall now. Where were you when you had your first sleepover? Your house or a friends’? >> I never had a sleepover. Are you afraid of water? >> A bit, because I’ve come close to drowning more than once. But that is a situational anxiety and only applies when I’m near large bodies of water. What are you limits for doing stuff for money? >> My limit is pretty low. I don’t value money enough to do anything I don’t want to do for it.

Ever thought you’ll never grow up to be a slut and you did? >> ... Last thing you thought before you went to sleep three nights ago? >> How would I remember that? Is there someone you are mean to all the time for no reason? >> No. Do you believe what comes around goes around? >> I believe everything repeats eventually, and I believe that you’re often liable to receive the same energy from another person as you give to them. What about everything happens for a reason? >> I believe that finding a cause-effect pattern in anything is possible. When you think of love what’s the first that comes to mind? >> Can Calah. How do you calm your mind and find peace when you are stressed? >> Take some CBD and do something that I enjoy (or at least that distracts me). Love how the survey went from deep to not and got deep again? >> I really, really don’t pay attention, man.

#surveys #survey #random survey

[askmeanythingmeme]

welcome team to the first text tuesdays! this is an optional activity, so no pressure. all the information you need to know is under the cut, please do not reblog post - especially if you’re outside of this rp. (credit to ofhotheads, but the original post is gonezo)

[MSG]: If you come home and see an ambulance outside, don’t worry. I’ve got it all under control.

[MSG:] One time I thought I was heterosexual.

[MSG:] I’M WEARING A FLAG.

[MSG:] Just get in the fucking blanket fort.

[MSG:] I think the only option is to smoke so much weed I pass out for 3 days.

[MSG:] I am going places. Maybe not college, but places…

[MSG:] I don’t think meeting his drug dealers counts as a relationship landmark.

[MSG:] THE SUPER HOT BARTENDER WHO LOOKS LIKE RYAN GOSLING JUST WALKED IN. BUT HE DOESN’T EVEN WALK HE GLIDES. LIKE AN ANGEL.

[MSG:] We’re making a scrapbook of dick pics, you want in or what?

[MSG:] Can you pick me up? The threeway turned into a twoway while I sit here alone in the corner…

[MSG:] Every time you mention the threesome around him I will high five you. Do what you will with this information.

[MSG:] You know, my friends think I make these stories up…

[MSG:] I’m bonding with your girlfriend. I like her. We’re plotting your demise.

[MSG:] My cute new neighbor has a cast on his leg. How sad is it that my first thought was, “Hey! This one can’t run away!”.

[MSG:] OMG he dropped his pants for me. Granted it was to show me where he got stabbed but still…

[MSG:] I started the day with dreams of getting laid and ended it with the reality of eating Taco Bell in my bed with my dog.

[MSG:] I just walked into the room at this party and someone shouted “dibs!”

[MSG:] He held my hand in public and I nearly came. Like he needs to be inside of me yesterday.

[MSG:] Uh, I almost got the bride to go down on me. I’m the smoothest maid of honor ever.

[MSG:] Somehow a ride to Walgreens turned into a threesome.

[MSG:] Yeah, don’t like to call her my roommate. Too cordial. I prefer to call her “the whore that was assigned to live with me.”

[MSG:] Why does every bad decision I make end up with at least 100 likes on YouTube?

[MSG:] I feel like I don’t show you my boobs enough. And you deserve to see them like all the time.

[MSG:] I told you not to buy lube from a tourist shop!

[MSG:] He must be a special kind of stupid to cheat on a women who works at a funeral home. Does he not understand you can get rid of dead bodies easier than most Americans?

[MSG:] STOP BREAKING THE LAW, ASSHOLE.

[MSG:] There were containers of weed in the piñata.

[MSG:] So far today I’ve had six shots of tequila, one joint, I’ve hit three parties, made out with two people and been chased by security. It is spring break.

[MSG:] OMG SOMEONE JUST CRASHED THIS LECTURE SCREAMING “TROOOOOLLLL IN THE DUNGEONS!!!” I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING HELP

[MSG:] I understand why animals eat their young in the wild after watching your kid this afternoon.

[MSG:] Uh, I think that pic was for someone else. At least, I hope so…

[MSG:] My gaydar is infallible. Trust me.

[MSG:] I’m actually kind of scared about the prospect of us living together. We’re just going to eat pizza and drink wine before retiring to our rooms with vibrators.

[MSG:] Would you accept a fantastic blowjob as payment?

what you need to know:

if you choose to participate, please post your askbox.

 if you participate, please be willing to send as well as receive.

send the meme via ask box, the receiver can then either answer with a link to a created text chat, or answer as they would a normal ask. we do suggest you use the first option to make reblogging easier.

you’re not required to send a text to everyone, especially if a character has already sent one to you, but please make sure you’re branching out and creating interactions and plots that perhaps you haven’t in the past.

if you get a text from a character and you’re stuck thinking “this makes no sense for my character to reply to”, honestly just wing it. have fun with this, there’s no right or wrong way to answer.

super simple. have fun, and any further questions or problems, contact admin!

#askmememe #askme: text tuesday #scheduled post #because your admin is asleep #this will be posted in the discord when I wake up :) #i can't get it to stop showing up as links so alas #i apologise

[ssincielo]

@avcritics​ asked: When they’re overwhelmed / upset, what do they do to calm themselves? what could someone else do to calm them? | List 5-10 sleep/bedtime related headcanons!

WHEN THEY ARE OVERWHELMED / UPSET, WHAT DO THEY DO TO CALM THEMSELVES?

when lourdes is upset, the first thing she does or wants to do, granted she’s in a location where she isn’t able to: is smoke weed. she pre-rolls her blunts and keeps them in a tin can (and she also has a tin can full of purse blunts as well, thank you very much.) near her, so that’s her first outlet. if that doesn’t work and she’s still upset, she will do one of two things. go into her kitchen and cooks whatever the hell is on her mind so that she can keep her hands busy and let her feelings turn into something productive. or again, if she’s out and not able to cook or water or plants or something, she goes into her notes app and types really, really long winded rants until her fingers hurt and she feels more or less calmer than she did before. (also, depending on what upset her, lourdes also isn’t above just. using violence. especially if it’s a person who’s made her upset and she’s like, not at work or whatever. then she’s just whooping everybody’s ass.)

as for what someone else can do for her to calm her down? basically, give her the room and leave her the hell alone! lourdes gets tunnel vision a lot when she’s angry so she’s going to just end up screaming profanities and saying some real uncalled for shit at someone trying to calm her down because it feels super annoying sometimes having someone in your space when you just want to fucking spazz. then, depending on whether she’s just extremely anxious and worked up (most often a part of her undiagnosed PTSD, but anyways.) or paranoid, lourdes actually does appreciate the senses rule. five things she can see, four she can smell, three she can taste, you know the deal. or have her recite the periodic table of elements. those things work better than trying to physically touch her or literally telling her to calm down.

LIST FIVE TO TEN SLEEP / BEDTIME RELATED HEADCANONS. 

lourdes likes unwinding at night before she goes to sleep. she takes her shower, does a body scrub, does her skin care (steaming her face, exfoliating, moisturizing, etc.), moisturizing her body with oil and lotion, maybe put on some relaxing music as she’s prepping her bed. she also says her thank you’s and a prayer before sleep, despite not actively practicing her religion anymore.

sometimes, if she can’t sleep, lourdes will start talking about her day aloud. she’s unlikely do to it if she has company, and if someone is around her but not in the room with her and happens to overhear, she’ll just deny it in the morning. but she talks out loud because she’s primarily addressing it to ramone, her family, any friends she’s had that she’s lost. maybe somewhere in her rant she’ll end up speaking on what’s keeping her up.

lourdes also sleeps with the TV on. she keeps a sleep timer at the highest setting, of course, but she can’t fall asleep without watching re-runs of living single, girlfriends, king of the hill, or the proud family.

speaking of company though, lourdes does not enjoy sharing a bed with other people. not even any significant others. the girl sleeps like a damn starfish and she gets so hot, so easily. plus she’s so used to sleeping in a bed by herself that she actually cannot deal with another body occupying her bed even if there’s space. it’s just...it’s a very big hurdle she’ll have to cross if she ever gets into a long term relationship.

her sleep schedule is absolutely atrocious. she wakes up at 5:50am every morning, tries to be out the door by 7am, catches a 7:30am train to manhattan and is usually at her job by 8:15am. she gets off at 5:30pm, but it takes her until around 6:45pm to actually get home granted she doesn’t grocery shop or go out or anything, takes hours to decompress or do any additional work then doesn’t start getting ready for bed until 10:30 or 11pm. she’s very sleep deprived.

CHARACTER QUESTIONS. — accepting!

#yes i'm answering month old q's! what are y'all gonna do abt it!!! #I’M JUST TRYNA GET MY PAPER STRAIGHT. — 𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 #avcritics

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #143

“i’d rather be in battle than slaughtered like cattle.”

Were you happy or sad when you found out your babysitter was coming?  Sad, I had separation anxiety from Mom. Did you have a boyfriend in kindergarten?  No. Did you ever read the "Junie B. Jones" books?  LOVED THEM. Were you friends with your neighbors?  I was friends with a boy down the street. Did you ever play the "Reader Rabbit" computer games?  YESSSSS I LOVED THE BIRTHDAY PARTY ONE. What kinds of games did you play with your friends during Recess?  None really, we just played on the swings and such. What was your favorite kind of cake as a kid?  Chocolate. Who were you last in an elevator with?  Mom. Do you know anyone that has a black belt in karate?  No. If you have a notepad in your phone, what do you use it for the most?  I have tattoo ideas on it lmao. Who is the last child that you took a photo with?  Aubree. How and where did you get your most recent cut?  On the side of my hand.  I was drying my feet off after a shower, and my toenail cut the fuck out of it. ;-;  Pretty sure the scar's gonna be permanent. Would you ever get a nature tattoo?  Yeah, sure. Do you have any locked texts messages?  A few from Sara. Is anyone saved in your phone under a nickname?  My sisters are just "Ash" and "Nicky." Which company provides your car insurance?  I don't have my own car. Have you ever ordered from an informercial?  Nope. When, where, and why did a needle last pierce your skin?  Tattoo parlor in June to get a tattoo. Why did your last relationship end?  I didn't like him like that, I found. Do you have any tan lines?  No. Have you ever had any friends with benefits?  No. How old were you when you became financially independent from your parents?  Lol I'm not. What’s your favorite flavor of potato chip?  Ummmm probs salt and vinegar. Do you have a lock number or pattern for your phone?  No. What was the hardest language you’ve ever tried to learn?  What the super fuck even is Latin. Do you have any food intolerances or allergies?  No.  Well, without my medicine, bananas give me hellish heartburn. What’s the most number of people you’ve ever lived with?  Five.  Mom, Dad, two immediate sisters, and on different occasions my half-brother lived with us, then Dad's daughter stayed here a while. How many college degrees do you want?  Ideally, a master's because that's what is required to be an out-in-the-field zoologist.  I can do some things with lower ones, though. What do you look forward to most in the next two months?  Photographing my first wedding, my nephew's and mom's birthdays, going to see Sara in a little over two. What song explains how you feel about love?  "When It's Love" by Van Halen will always be way up there. Have you ever been IN a wedding?  Yeah, bridesmaid at Ash's. Have you ever been covered in mud?  Probably as a kid? Are there any books you wanna read?  I'm always gonna wanna read Rhett and Link's book, and I wanna start reading Wings of Fire 'cuz it sounds like something I'd like, thanks Sara. What classes are you taking in school? I'm not back in it yet. What is the last song you attempted to play on an instrument? I don't remember.  I took my guitar out months upon months ago to try and mess wi- OH, it was "Sweet Child O' Mine," and it went down horribly lmao. Could you handle being married to the last person you kissed?  That's the plan, buddy. Do you crack your knuckles?  No. How do you react when people sing “happy birthday” to you in a restaurant?  Get really shy and look down, but can't help but smile. Ever been shot by a paintball gun?  No. Have you ever had a significant other with a mental disorder?  Yes. Are you a moaner, a screamer, or totally silent?  The first. Have you ever tried Nutella?  I love that shit. Are there any activities which are “meant for children” that you still enjoy?  Yeah, movies, shows, games... Is there anything you wish you had started doing when you were younger that would have had an impact on or would have helped you with your life today?  Yeah.  I should've worked on social skills way sooner.  I should've fought back younger. Can you read lips?  Not at all. Are you part of any online communities? If so, which ones, and how did you get involved in them?  Only really KM, and because I've been in the meerkat RP community since '05. When vacuuming, do you have a set pattern or do you go willy-nilly?  Somewhat of a pattern. What’s your favorite kind of bread?  Pumpernickel. Who’s your favorite Muppet?  I don't have one. What’s your favorite monster? (can be Monsters Inc, horror films, stories, or myths, whatever)  Probably the Jersey Devil or Mothman.  Or the Dover Demon.  I like cryptozoological stuff okay. Have you ever considered shaving your head? Have you shaved it?  Noooooo. Have you ever seen a polar bear in person?  Yeah, at zoos. What’s your favorite school yard game? (4-Square, Kick the Can, etc)  I think it was called 4-Square... but I'm not sure. Have you ever boycotted anything?  No. Would you fall apart if that last person you kissed walked out of your life?  Um you have no idea. Are you against smoking weed?  Yeah tbh.  However I know there's lots of evidence coming out proving some of its medical uses, but I'm still kinda.  Unsure about medical marijuana. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about your feelings?  Sara. Who of the opposite sex has seen you at your worst?  Jason. Who were you dating this time last year?  Girt. Have you ever smoked pot?  I've only ever been in the presence of people smoking it. Are your ears gauged?  No. Have you ever played beer pong?  No. Do you believe that you are a good girlfriend or boyfriend?  I sure hope so. Would you hug your ex again?  A couple I would. Do you like to climb trees?  I wouldn't know. Name your three closest friends.  Sara, Colleen, then probably Alex?  Although she hasn't been talking to me lately. What is the best kind of Girl Scout cookie?  I loved the chocolate and PB ones. Do you like it or hate it when your partner is clingy?  To a degree, I like it.  Shows they really do care. What kind of jelly do you buy?  Grape. Is your dad overweight?  He's underweight. Do you know all the words to “Don’t Trust Me” by 3oh!3?  I don't feel like playing it in my head but maybe 'cuz that song was my shit. What movies have you cried to?  Oh yeesh, I'm a fucking baby.  The Notebook, A Walk to Remember, Old Yeller, Logan, The Outsiders, Titanic, The Hunger Games (I think), and how could I almost forget Forrest Gump.  I knoooow there's more tho. Do you love substitute teachers?  No.  We would sit around doing nothing. Does your personality generally fall in line with gender stereotypes?  Not really? What’s your favorite movie soundtrack?  Off the top of my head, maybe Blair Witch Project 2: Book of Shadows. If you could own any 3 fictional objects from any book/movie/show, what would you choose? (does not have to all be from the same book/movie/show)  I legitimately want to commission someone to make a wooden model of Lord Emon's mask from Shadow of the Colossus.  I want so much SotC stuff, but shit expensive man.  Ummm having the Seal of Metatron from SH3 would be an awesome lil collectable.  OH YEAH and why the hell not have a hearthstone from WoW so I can go home in a jiffy whenever I want. :'D How far away do you live from the last place you lived?  Like... 10-15 minutes? Do you know anyone who’s had their kids taken by Child Protective Services?  No. You’re in a food court, what do you feel like eating?  Pizza, probably. Have you ever seen someone sleepwalk?  Yes, my younger sister.  She legit tried to go outside, but I obviously stopped her (I was the only one in the room). Have you ever thought about getting your tongue pierced?  Yes, and I would if I didn't have a damn retainer. If you had to move in with a friend, which one would you pick?  I'd move in with Sara any day. How does alcohol affect you?  Okay so I handle alcohol extremely well so I've never seen serious changes... but I do know if I'm tipsy, I'm more talkative and outgoing.  I don't think my face flushes anymore. When was the last time you had a cold or flu?  Holy shit I couldn't tell you for a cold.  I've never had the flu, thankfully. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation?  Girt and I watched a few episodes.  It wasn't bad, but the fact still stands that I can't really get into TV. What is your favorite kind of pasta?  Typical spaghetti and meatballs. What color is your shampoo?  Pink. Is there a special someone in your life right now?  Yes. If so, tell me your favorite thing about their personality and their looks:  She's strong as fuck and her smile's to die for. Ever made a guy cry?  Yeah. Has a guy ever made you cry?  For over a year straight lmao. What’s the worst goodbye you’ve ever had to say?  To Jason. What make up product do you never use? It'd be easier to tell you only what I do use.  I only ever wear eyeliner and then sometimes eye shadow, mascara, lipstick, and very rarely foundation. What is one place you have been to and hated?  Uhhhh idk. Have you ever seen a jellyfish?  In aquariums, yes.  So majestic. Did anyone ever draw on your face when you were sleeping? No. Have you ever done that to someone else?  No. Were you ever chased by an animal?  Only pets playfully. Have you ever started talking to someone that you thought was someone else?  Omfg I did this a good number of months back at the tat parlor and the embarrassment will stay with me forever. Name one person of the same sex as you that you wouldn’t mind dating? Okay so I'm not gonna be a smartass and say "my girlfriend," I'll actually answer this as if we weren't together.  I'd date Suzy Hanson in a heartbeat, come at me Arin.  Fuckin sweetheart. Do you know any vegans?  No. What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)?  Sara: Martha, Crowley, Little Dot, Buster, Mabel, Doris.  Idk the toads' and fishes' names yet.  Colleen: Miracle and Maxwell. When was the last time you were disappointed?  Two or so days ago, real bad.  Mom put aside buying the concert tickets regardless of how many times I reminded her, and now we can't go. Have you ever been on a blind date? No, not my thing. If you have a job, who’s your closest friend at work?  No job. Do you see yourself married in the next five years?  Probably at least engaged.  Maybe married.

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