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twice-inamillion · 2 days

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The Company

Caught

Angst (major life event, caught lying, depression)

Chapter 9

2,430 Words

(The unexpected happened. Now, Miyeon has to deal with the consequences of her actions that might impact everyone around her.)

“Come on, just one kiss.”

“I don't know, oppa. I don't want to get in trouble.”

Don't worry, no one is going to see us.”

“Okay, just one kiss.”

“See, it wasn't too bad. When do you think I can see you?”

“I don't know. The company is pretty strict, and my teammates and I are busy. I basically had to lie for them to let me out.”

“I really want to see you again.”

“Same, I miss spending time with you.”

“Click. Click.”

Unbeknownst to the couple, their little randevu will have long-lasting effects on both of them, especially Miyeon.

“Seems like someone is going to have a bad day tomorrow,” as the person across the street watches from the shop nearby.

The next day, Irene walks to her office after a long day of practice the day before. As she opens the door, she sees an envelope, picks it up, and places it on the table.

Seated, she tried to find an address but found nothing that would reveal who the sender was. She opens it and pulls out a card with a note saying, “Seems like the company doesn't know how to manage their trainees and stop them from dating.”

Irene opens the folded sheet of paper and sees a clear picture of Cho Miyeon, one of the trainees she personally manages, kissing a boy. Many things go through her mind and the last thing she needs is a scandal of the CEO’s upcoming girl group before their debut. Luckily, they haven't been confirmed, and he says, “I need to take care of this before it gets any worse.”

Meanwhile, Miyeon is running on the treadmill when she receives a message. She sees the name of Irene, her recruiter and the one in charge of her group. She thinks it's an update of her group's schedules and opens it, only to get a vague message, “Would like to meet with you in my office at 10 AM today.” Curious, she finishes her run and heads to her dorm to shower before her appointment.

“Knock, Knock. It's Miyeon.”

“Come in. Take a seat.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you adjusting to your group? Are you getting along with your members?”

“Yes, the girls and II are getting along well. We are so excited to debut.”

“HmmÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã‚Â¦ how are things going personally? Are you feeling stressed or worried?”

“Just a bit tired, but nothing more than the usual?”

“That's good. Do you have feedback or anything you want to share?”

No, the company has been great so far. I really appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hmm, I think so.”

Irene tries to hide her irritated expression but can't comprehend why the person in front of her is lying straight to her face. “Then what about this?” as she takes over a folder and places the picture on the table.

“I don't know what this is.”

“Lies, this is you breaking one of the rules of your contract with us.”

Miyeon tries to think of what to say but can't think of any excuse and bursts into tears. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hide it. I'll break it off; I promise not to do it again.”

“That's not going to work. You broke an important rule. I don't think this is going to work between us moving forward.”

“Wait, you don't mean...”

“I'm going to ask you to get your belongings and meet me back tomorrow for off-boarding.”

“Please, don't do this, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'll make it up; I'll work harder, just give me one chance. We're so close to debuting,” says Miyeon as she cries and pleads.

“You shouldn't hide the fact that you were dating; maybe if you told me, I could have been more lenient. Don't make this any harder, I don't want to blacklist you.”

“But... “

“Leave, I'm very disappointed in you.”

With her hands covering her face, she exits Irene's office and runs to the elevator. She puts her hood up and covers her face as she tries to exit the building and make it to her apartment.

“Hey Miyeon! Are you done for the day?”

“Sorry, I can't talk now,” says Miyeon as she tries not to let one of her trainee friends see her crying. She speed walks all the way to her room and lays on the bed crying until she falls asleep.

“Hey, Miyeon, wake up. You missed practice.” Slowly, she wakes up from her exhausting nap and sees Rose touching her shoulder.

“Hey, Rosie.”

“What happened?”

“They kicked me out,” as she begins to bawl again.

“Why? Who kicked you out? From the group?”

“No, from the company.”

“Wait, let me get the rest of the girls. Maybe we can figure something out, but don't cry.”

“Hmm, okay.”

Rose steps out and heads to the other room where Jennie, Jisoo, and Lisa are hanging out. “Miyeon is crying, she said that they kicked her out of the company!”

The members rush into the other and see Miyeon lying down, crying her eyes out. “What happened, Miyeon?” asks Lisa.

“Irene unnie called me into her office and they were kicking me out.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, someone took a picture of me with the boy I began dating before joining.”

“Why, Miyeon? I told you to break it off. Why didn't you listen to me?” said Jisoo.

“I didn't think they would find out. I haven't seen him since joining. Yesterday was the first time seeing him.”

“What's going to happen now?” asks Rose.

“I begged Irene to give me another chance, but all she told me was that I would collect my things by tomorrow.”

“I didn't think they would risk separating us before our debut,” said Lisa.

“What do you think is going to happen with us?” asks Jisoo.

Rose, trying to change the mood, says, “Maybe we can talk to the CEO about it and explain the situation. We can say that she won't do it again and will break up with him. We need to debut.”

“I'll contact Oppa and see if he can get us in touch with the CEO,” says Jennie.

The rest of the girls nod as Jennie heads to her room and calls you.

The phone rings, and you see that it's from your newest toy. You let the phone ring until you get multiple messages, “Oppa, please answer; it's urgent.”

“Alright, what does this girl want?” as you get your phone to call her back.

“Oppa, you finally answer!”

“What's the urgency?”

“Miyeon got kicked out of the group by Irene!”

”What do you mean kicked out?”

”Can I meet with you?”

”I get back in an hour.”

”Okay, I'll see you at your apartment.”

You get off the phone with Jennie and immediately call for Irene to come to your office. “Irene, come to my office immediately!”

”Yes, sir!”

It only takes a minute for you to hear Irene knock at your door before coming inside. “You need something, sir?”

”Can you explain why you kicked Miyeon off the group?”

Irene hesitates to answer, trying to figure out what to say, “I wanted to take care of things before letting you know, but since you are already aware, I’ll explain the situation.

“Go on.”

”Well, I received proof of Mieyon breaking one of the company’s rules. She hid the fact that she was dating someone and was caught.” Irene pulls out her phone and shows you the picture of Miyeon kissing and holding hands with someone.

”FuckÃƒÂ¢Ã¢â€šÂ¬Ã‚Â¦”

”I called her to my office and came to the conclusion that it would be best for her and the company to part ways, thus kicking her out of the group as well.”

”I thought you did a thorough background check with all the trainees, especially with them.”

”I thought I did, sir. If I knew, I would have done something about it beforehand.”

”What are we going to do now? The group is scheduled to debut this year, and now they have one member down.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It’s my fault, I take full responsibility.”

”You should. Maybe I should disband your group as well.”

”No, sir. Anything but that. My members have practiced so hard, you can’t do that to them.”

”These girls were going to be my first girl group, so now look at them.”

“So what would you like to do?”

”Not sure. I’ll come up with something.”

---------

Jennie receives a text message and opens it, “Don’t come to my apartment. I know the whole situation. Can’t talk about it now, but some more information will soon come to you.”

Jennie is disappointed that she couldn’t do anything and tries to comfort Miyeon when all their phones go off. Then, they grab their phones and read the following message: “All members are required to attend the emergency meeting at the conference room at 9 AM tomorrow.” They all look at each other, worried and thinking the worst.

“Are we disbanding?”

----------

The girls arrive early to the meeting and wait for the news of their disbandment as a group. They look at the clock hung up on the wall as it approaches 9 o’clock sharp.

They see Irene walk and open the door of the conference room, “Thank you for meeting with me today. I’ll be hosting the meeting today. Miyeon, if you could head to the CEO’s office, he would like to speak with you.

The members look at Miyeon as she stands up and exits the door to meet the CEO for the first time.

”Alright, let's start the meeting. I’m sure you all are aware of why you are here. I won’t waste anyone’s time and just let you all know that moving forward, this group will only consist of you fourÃ¢â‚¬Â¦”

”What? What about Miyeon?” asks Jennie.

”She will no longer be part of your group. I can’t go over more details of her situation but she’ll need to move from your apartment immediately.”

“ButÃ¢â‚¬Â¦”

”Let me finish.”

”Okay.”

”You five were scheduled to debut at the end of the year, but now that there are only four members, things will be a bit different. Your positions will change, and your debut date will be pushed back.”

”Wait! We were supposed to be the company’s first girl group to debut. This isn’t fair!” shouts Rose.

“It was this or scarp the team as a whole and start over. Would you like that instead?”

“No, “ says Rose as she quiets down.

”This was something that the CEO thought was best and had minimal impact on the group.”

Irene goes on to explain more about the changes that will occur with the group.

----------

On the other hand, Miyeon stands in front of the CEO’s office and knocks at the door. She hears a response, opens the door, and is surprised to see you sitting behind a large desk.

“Oppa?”

”Sit down, Miyeon.”

”Okay.”

”You may know me as one of the staff members, but my true position in the company is CEO. I’m here to discuss your position in our company. You already know the details of the reason why you are here, and I won’t argue with you about it since Irene has already talked to you about it, right?”

”Yes, she did.”

”So here is what we decided to do with you. You will leave the group you are currently in and the apartment you are sharing with them. I went over your file and saw that you have a promise as an idol, so I decided not to kick you out of the company itself. Instead, I'm offering you a position as a junior assistant to Irene; of course, it would be that or leave the company itself, your choice.”

“But doesn't Irene hate me?”

“That doesn't matter. Sometimes, you need to work with people you don't like or don't like you. So what's it going to be?”

“I'll do it. Is there still a chance for me to be an idol?”

“That is up to you.”

-----------

“I know this will be a change for you all, but I hope you make the best of it. It's up to you four if you debut as a group or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, we understand.”

“Okay, you can all leave.”

The members exited and texted Miyeon but got no reply. They head back to their apartment, and when they open the door, they see Miyeon’s things missing.

“Let's check the room.”

They see the door slightly open, push it, and see Miyeon's side completely emptied out.

“She's gone.”

Jisoo notices a folded sheet of paper and opens it, “Look, she left something.”

“Read it it, unnie.”

“I'm sorry to leave without saying goodbye, but if I did, I don't think I would have been able to let you girls go. I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused and hope you can debut without any problems. I'll cherish all the memories we've made and will cheer for you four.

Thank you so much,

Cho Miyeon”

--------

It’s been a few days since Miyeon left the group. The members have tried messaging her but to no avail. They continue their practice, but this time, as a four-member group, they try their best not to listen to any of the rumors that the other trainees in the company spread behind their backs.

Miyeon wakes up early in the morning and prepares for her first day as junior assistant to Irene. She wears a semi-business casual outfit and makes her way to the office.

“Good morning, Irene.”

”Miyeon.”

”What would you like me to do?”

”Read this,” as Irene tossed a manual onto the desk. “Make sure to get yourself familiarized. We don’t want another incident, right?”

”No, ma’am.”

”Good, because I will make sure there are no second chances. Now, get to reading.”

Miyeon spends more of the day reviewing the material for her new position within the company. The concept of having time for friends or even a boyfriend is now a faraway dream. Her goal now is to do her best with the second change you gave her.

Miyeon looks outside the office window and sees her former members walking together; all she can do now is cherish the beautiful memories she made with them, her sisters.

#The Company #kpop girls #kpop angst #cho miyeon #miyeon #miyeon cho #k pop idol #idol #kpop gg #gidle fic

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hypnotic-kink · 3 days

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Tan lines?:)

100% RANT

Please don't take this personal @builtincalifornia, I'm not directing these comments towards you. I get the ASK, I went on vacation, and I have posted pics of my tan before & bikini pics. I did take some tan line pics and a few full body bikini pics on vacation, I was going to post them, but one super disrespectful guy ruined that request, so no, no tan lines will be posted ... I feel mentally abused after that guy. I also know I post some provocative pics and it can attract the mega pervs (who I end up blocking), I get it, I accept that will happen occasionally, and I can handle most comments. Some will say because I post pics "I'm asking for it," well, that's a bullshit cop out because you can have all the pervy thoughts you want to have, but you're either a decent human being in comments/DMs or not, so that excuse doesn't fly with me. Do better! Show your appreciation in a respectful way! I've gotten good at sidestepping this stuff but now I need to be crystal clear, my pictures give NO ONE the right to message me sexually, make demands, say nasty things and then get pissed when I say no and proceed to call me every name in the book. He's blocked and I will block anyone that displays childish behavior like that in DM or in my comments. If you agree with Him, block me and good riddance. If you think my pics are hot or sexy ...hey then I accomplished what I set out to do! I enjoy getting the aesthetics right on my pics, and that's awesome and I'm flattered when people think I took a great pic. Glad you like them! I also enjoy interacting on comments too, again, nothing wrong with that, that still isn't an open invitation to sexual comments or give anyone the right to have expectations towards me and I'll say most of you guys have been PRETTY AWESOME and I've cleaned out the really degrading ppl that used to make all the crude remarks. My blog IS a NSFW site after all, and I AM allowed to post whatever my little heart desires and let my exhibitionist side out in a safe environment if I chose to, there is NOTHING wrong with that. Don't get it twisted. I'm not here for a hook up, and I'm certainly not here to get you off. No one has the right to demand pictures of me. After 1 1/2 yrs. on this blog, the people I am friends with and do talk to in DM, you're there for a reason .... thank you for knowing my boundaries and respecting them and thank you for your friendship. Yes, women are allowed to have male friends on here, that doesn't mean we are sexting or have a sexual relationship with all of them. I do appreciate and value you. You're the best :)

To the people that want to judge me based off my posting sexy personal pictures. KISS MY ASS, you don't know me. You haven't even tried to know the woman behind the pictures & I don't have to agree with any Dom on his opinion & I certainly don't have to obey demands. from anyone, Dom or not. I'm sure there are many women who post pics that feel the same way as I do. Am I a sexual person? Absolutely, but I'm also not all about sex, so stop with the assumptions. I'm also a one-on-one relationship kind of women who isn't poly and isn't into multiple guys. So many like to lump all us women who post pics together like we're all sexting everyone in this place, but for me personally, you're wrong. I'm sure there are some men in here that the same assumptions are made too. I am not sexting any man in here and I say that publicly because I know it's the truth. I'm not a whore, a slut, or easy because I post pictures of myself. I'm pretty damn selective and there are many in here that know that and have said perhaps my expectations are even too high. AGAIN, No one owns me in here, I'm not a punching bag for you to hurl derogatory words at if you don't get your way and no one has the right to demand anything of me, nor send dick pics, and I don't even have to respond to DMs if I choose not to. I'm always nice and polite to people who message, until it's time not to be. Me being polite is also not an invitation to say sexual comments. If I wanted to go down that path I would, and you would know it. I'm not looking. Also, when men post their own pics, I support them 100%, that does not mean I want to get with them, or I'm perving on them. It takes guts to put yourself out there, for men and women. Men and women support me so why wouldn't I support them?! You guys all rock too! While I'm on a rant, do not, I repeat do NOT ask for more pictures of me if you do message me. READ PROFILES DAMMIT mines pretty clear.

#yes i'm pissed off #fuck judgemental people #me #hk #rant #venting #take note before you DM me #READ MY PROFILE #PSA about me

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scoonsalicious · 3 days

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1.2 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.

Word Count: 960

Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...

A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts.

He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in.

“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”

Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.

Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”

Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?”

Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”

Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?

“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!”

Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification.

“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.

“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”

Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”

Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.

Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.

Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”

Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”

When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”

“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”

Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said.

Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”

“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”

Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager.

But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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the-froschamethyst4 · 24 hours

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Badge and Medics

𖤐Pairing: Cop! Gaz x Doctor! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, heavy language, mention of needles, OD’s (overdose) and some violence, some sexism, married couple, kissing, drug usage, medical terminology,

𖤐Summary: Being married to a cop is one thing but married to a cop who somehow always gets the calls about people on drugs and he brings them to his wife’s place of work is another

————

"2-Adam-23, there is a potential illegal drug usage in downtown Manchester."

"Another one?"

"2-Adam-23, responding," Gaz flipped the lights on after responding to the radio. Price then drove to the address given by dispatch.

Beep, beep, beep, beep

"Heart is steady...keep an eye on him just in case."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Druggy coming through," Price announced as he held a guy by his left arm and Gaz on his right.

"Officers, what's going on?"

"Someone used an illegal drug, and now here we are," short and sweet, Price.

"We usually see Doctor Y/n."

"I'm here, I'm here," Y/n came walking to the two officers, she looks at the man sweating profusely. "Get him into room 6," she tells the officers who moved him to the room.

The man was shouting profanities at Gaz and Price, spitting which caused Gaz to shove the mans head to his stomach.

"You are not going to spit," Gaz warns him.

"Oh fuck you, you bitch! I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE! TAKE ME TO JAIL!"

"The jail won't accept you high off your mind," Price tells him as they cuffed both of his wrists on both sides of the railing and Gaz grabbed the spit hood putting it over the mans face to keep him from spitting.

"Okay, so what am I doing?" Y/n asked, she was joking, she knew what she was doing, this is the 5th person high off their mind on some kind of substance.

"I WANT A DOCTOR NOT A NURSE!!"

"I am a doctor-"

"FINE BITCH, I WANT A MALE DOCTOR!! NOT SOME WHORE IN A WHITE COAT!!"

"Watch it," Gaz says through gritted teeth.

"Easy, tiger...well no male wants to deal with you ass, so they sent me in because you...don't scare me, I'm not stuck in cuffs right now," she says, taking a needle and sticking it in the mans arm, he squirms and shouts and slowly starts to drift off to sleep.

Price was impressed with Y/n along with Gaz, he smirks and looks down at his wife.

"Woah." Y/n then uncapped another needle sucking the blood from the drugged mans veins.

"Give him a few minutes of sleep and it should be done and over with, we've seen him before, so I'm aware of his history, I'll also be giving this to the lab to let you know what he's on, but I think I have a sense on what he might be on." Y/n says, disposing her gloves and needles. "Anyways, come find me if anything happens," she gives them both a smile and a wink at Gaz as she walks away.

Gaz looks at his partner who motioned his head to follow you. "Go on, I've got it from here," Gaz takes off down the hall seeing you go into a room.

He acted cool, walking by and seeing you bending down on your knees talking with a child patient. Gaz leans on the door as you talked so gently with the child. Giving the child a stuff animal to hold as you pricked their shoulder.

"There, all done," Y/n says. She looks at the parents. "I'll have her blood tested and I'll be back with the results."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"Of course, now...Olivia, I want you to hold on to this bear, he will help you with every Doctor appointment, just squeeze him and everything will be okay."

"Okay!" She gives Y/n a smile.

"Good...I'll be back," she turns and Gaz steps from the doorway.

"You spying, Kyle?" Y/n asked.

"No...just came to see if we are still having dinner at Sanders?" He asked.

"Yep, nothing has changed as far as I'm aware," she smiles up at her husband.

"Okay good...ummm~ sorry for bring another druggy."

"No, you're not, it's your way of saying I love you and it's an excuse to come and see me."

"....Yeah~ you're right," he says with an awkward smile.

"Oh, Aubrey can you take this blood sample to the lab please?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank you, I also need the results by 12!"

"GOT IT!"

"Busy day?" Gaz asked her.

"Just a bit," she says, she looked around and stood on her tippy toes and kissed her husbands lips. "I'll see you in a little bit, go watch your suspect, officer Garrick."

"I will, Doctor Garrick." He says as they both walked away from each other.

Gaz was swooned seeing his wife for the millionth time this week. As he made it back to the room, Price could see cupids above Gaz's head.

"Hey, calm down now, you'll see the missus when you get home, Garrick," Price says as he stood with his arms still cross over his chest watching the drugged man.

"Doctor Y/n, your patient in room 5's blood is back..."

"What is he on?"

"He is running on many...drugs ma'am."

"Name them and tell me what his blood level is at."

"Heroin, meth and we think cocaine, he also has some pills in his diet, looks like anti-depressants, and Ibuprofen, and his blood level he is over 4 times the legal limit...ma'am I think he was trying to overdose..."

"I see..." Y/n took the test from her assistants hands and walks back to the room. "I have your tests," she flashes the clipboard to both officers looking at the man.

"Goddamn," Price says, reading the chart.

"We think he might have been trying to overdose."

"Oh without a doubt," Price says.

"If you two weren't there to control the situation, I think if he would have taken one more thing, he would have died, I mean, he's on the verge with the amount of shit in his blood right now."

"Agreed, we'll have to place him under arrest and send him to the Prison and he'll have to wait for a judge to see him."

"It's the weekend, so he'll be in there till Monday," Gaz says.

"Yep," Price pops the 'P'. The man stirs in his sleep and looks at Y/n and the two officers.

"Where am I?"

"The hospital," Y/n says.

Then all of sudden Price and Gaz walk over to him placing his hands behind his back and cuffing him.

"W-W-Wait, what's going on? I haven't done, anything-"

"Illegal usage of drugs, misconduct, battery on an officer, illegal possession of illegal narcotics." Price cuts him off to tell him everything he's been charged with.

"Doc, come on now, you can't let them take me-"

"Your chart says how many drugs were in your system, you were trying to overdose, and if these officers didn't get to you in time, you would be dead by now, unfortunately there is nothing I can do," Y/n tells him as Price walks him out of the hospital and to the cruiser.

"Thank you for your help, love."

"Of course," she leans forward kissing his lips. "Be safe."

"I always am."

----------

3 Weeks Later

Price and Gaz walk into the hospital, Price and Gaz were not happy campers right now. They had gotten a call from the hospital saying that there was man asking for narcotics that only the hospital can supply.

He's been harassing the staff since 10 in the morning, and Price and Gaz have dealt with this guy before in the past always jumping from hospitals to hospitals always asking them them to supply him with random drugs.

This time it was-

"MORPHINE!!! I NEED MORPHINE!!" He yells.

"Hey! Austin!" Price yells catching his attention. "We've talked about this bud, no hospital is going to supply you with any sort of drug, that you don't need-"

"I AM A PATIENT HERE, I NEED MORPHINE!!"

"You are not a patient here, Austin," Gaz jumps in. "Are you high again?"

"NO!"

"Then come on, let's leave and let these nice people do their jobs-"

"THEY CAN DO THEIR JOBS BY GIVING ME MORPHINE!!" Austin raised his hand slamming them on the desk scaring the woman behind it, she shakes and both Gaz and Price pull out their tasers.

"On the floor Austin! You've overstepped your welcome, now on your knees now!" Price yells at him.

Austin soon turns and starts to charge at both of them, they both released their tasers making Austin fall to the ground. Price jumping on his back and putting his hands behind his back and Gaz gave him cuffs for Austin.

"KYLE! Y/N WAS HURT!!" A nurse yells for Gaz. Price nods allowing him to go check on his wife.

Y/n sat on an empty patients bed, gripping the thin bedsheet as a nurse of hers was stitching up her arm.

"Love," Gaz comes in, hugging her side.

"Ow, easy."

"I'm sorry, are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine."

"What the hell happened?" Gaz turns to the nurses but Y/n started to talk.

"I thought he was regular patient, I've never seen him before, so I wanted to know if he needed help with anything, and he was...acting normal and then when he told me, he was here for a physical and I was getting everything I need, he then just started to shout 'I need morphine' over and over. When I tried to die down the situation, he grabbed a blade, like a razorblade from his coat pocket and sliced my arm pretty good."

"She didn't lose too much blood," a nurse tried to reassure.

"His name is Austin Hill, he's known for going around random hospitals always asking for a random narcotic you can't get from the streets, just last week he went to Downtown Abby and asked a nurse for Majorana and when she told him she couldn't do that for him, he went ape-shit, now he'll be under careful watch," Gaz said.

"Come on, Gaz we've got some booking to do-Y/n you wanna make a statement?"

"Yes, please," she says as Gaz gave her a pen and paper waiting for her to be done writing. He takes the paper and pen from her leaning down to kiss her and rushing out of the room.

"I'll see you later love!"

----------

An Hour Later

"Got another one for you, love," Gaz says as him and Price held up a woman who seemed to be...limp.

"Umm~ can she walk?" Y/n asked.

"She did..." Price starts.

"She collapsed on her way in," Gaz ends.

"Jesus-okay, get her to room 8," Y/n says.

The officers placed her on the bed, she has this...sort of creepy smile on her face, eyes widened and haven't blinked so far, she was still limp as Y/n did her usual exams on her.

"Umm~ a-are you guys sure she's not dead?" Y/n asked, writing everything down.

"Pretty sure," Price grabs her wrist feeling for a pulse. "It's slow," he says, dropping her wrist.

"Miss? Ma'am...are you okay? Hello?" Y/n asked, the woman's head turned to look at Y/n she jumps a bit from how creepy this woman was.

"You have a horn coming from your forehead."

"Edibles," Y/n immediately says with a straight and serious look on her face.

"I knew it," Gaz says, poking at Price's chest.

"Do you need any blood samples to convict?"

"Nah, we'll let her off with a warning," Gaz says. "Go ahead and knock her, love," he says, placing his hands on his belt.

"Will do," she uncapped a needle sticking it into the woman's arm, she slowly started to drift to sleep. "She'll wake up in an hour or so," Y/n tells both officers.

"Good-how's your arm, love?" Gaz asked, gently taking her hand.

"It's fine, I just can't do a whole lot at the moment."

"When's your break?"

"In 20 minutes."

Gaz looks at his partner and Price nods letting him know, he can take a break with his wife.

-----------

Y/n and Gaz sat outside in the courtyard eating some sandwiches, and chips. She giggled at Gaz's comments about the people he works with along with some random drama at the station, one being a cop and a possible inmate having an affair together.

"That's crazy," Y/n says.

"I know, so they are talking about transferring her to another station away from the jail," Gaz says.

"Good, you don't know what she could do for him while he's in jail."

"They've already confiscated two phones, toothpicks he could easily stab someone with, and a few shanks, he was in solitary confinement for 3 months," Gaz takes a chip in his mouth. "Anything crazy here, besides your arm?"

She just giggles. "Not really...so, I have a question?"

"Go ahead," he chuckles.

"When you're on patrol, and you get the call to go check up on something?" She questions her wording. "Why do you and Price always get the narcotics calls?"

"I don't know? I can do others like traffic stops, domestic violence cases, and others, but I'm not sure why we always get the narcotics calls," Gaz says.

"Well, my breaks almost up," she says.

-------------

Later That Night

Y/n was clocking out, telling her collogues 'goodbye' and 'have a good night.' She walks out of the hospital and looks around for her husbands car, she soon sees it pulling up to the sidewalk where she stood.

"Kyle," she coos and opens the passenger side door.

"I wish you'd let me open the door for you, so I can be a true gentleman."

"I am an independent woman," she says, moving the seat belt over her body.

"Oh I know, baby," he says, leaning forward and kissing her lips. "Let's go home, I want you to rest after what happened today, I know you pushed yourself today."

"Just a bit, I am tired," she yawns and let her head rest on the window as she watched the pretty lights of lit up building, apartment complex's pass by her window.

Soon her eyes were closed as Gaz drove them to their shared home. The golden lit up street lamps lit up the neighborhood and Gaz pulls into the driveway, gently shaking her thighs waking her up, she yawns and lets out a soft moan. Making grabby hands towards her husband.

"Hang on, baby," he says, going around the car and opening it, unbuckling his wife from her seat, and he bridal carries her into the house. "An independent woman, huh?"

"Shut up," Y/n says, snuggling into her husbands neck and giving her some soft kisses making him shutter.

------------

A Few Days Later

Y/n had stayed home from work since the incident, she stayed on the couch most of her time, her husband working, and coming home every break just to come and check up on her.

"Baby, I brought you some sushi," Gaz says, coming into the house, Y/n peaking over the back of the couch with a big smile.

"Thank you, Kyle. When is your break over?"

"In a few minutes, I brought Price with me, so we can head out immediately," Y/n stood up off the couch seeing Price sitting in the cruiser in the driveway. She waves to him and he waves back.

"Thank you again, Kyle, but I'll be okay, no need to come and check on me, I have your number if anything happens, and I have Price's number in case I get ahold of you, I promise, okay?"

"I know, baby, but I just want to make sure nothing happens while I'm gone on duty and something does happen."

"I'll be fine," Y/n kissed her husband, letting him get back to work, she ate her lunch and thanked him again for her food.

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meechlamajor · 10 hours

Note

please dating ines headcannons

Ines as Your Girlfriend — Headcanons

Warnings: fluff, i think that’s about it!

Author’s Note: excuse my tardiness honey bun! thank you for your patience ml 😇

Nesh gives me softie vibes and I feel like she would plan the best dates.

Think art classes, pottery, picnics, hiking, anything like that where you guys can cultivate something together. I feel like she wouldn’t believe that dates have to be super expensive to be super duper special.

She wants to help you get to know her culture!

Nesh would definitely tell you little facts and invite you to try different foods.

Imagine she walks into the bedroom of your shared apartment with a beaming smile. You’re freshly showered, occupied with doing your hair.

Inês approaches you with a beaming smile and a plastic bag with words in bright red plastered on the front. “I got us food, baby.”

“Yeah?” You inquire. “What is it? Smells good,” your hands rake through your hair as you speak.

Inês leans against the countertop of the vanity, her eyes focused on you, holding a loving gaze. She always appreciated that you were eager to try whatever she brought home.

“It’s called feijoada. It’s a type of stew, but it’s like creamy. I got us rice to eat with it,” she explained.

“Okay,” you beam. “I’m excited. Do you want to watch that new documentary, too?”

Inês’ left arm reaches up and her palm cups your cheek, her thumb stroking the surface. Subconsciously you lean into her touch, loving the warm feeling. “Of course. You’re almost done”? She motions to the sections of your hair.

You nod, “yup. Then I’m all yours.”

“You’re mine before and after that.”

You guys definitely *pretend* that you can sing together. You both sound horrible, but it’s the thought that counts.

She has a shrine dedicated to you in her room, I swear.

I’m talking polaroids all over the wall (including posters if you’re an athlete), any type of memorabilia of you she has there. I feel like she’d steal a pair of socks or something to add to it.

Road trips are the norm.

I absolutely adore the idea of Passenger Princess Nesh. The only problem is that she’s going to eat all of the snacks before you get any 🌚. She’s definitely reliable though, Inês would talk to you the whole time + make sure that you never miss an exit. You can excuse her excessive snacking, she needs her fuel.

You go to her orthodontist appointments with her.

I just feel like this would be really cute 😩 you don’t have to go, but you do and she loves it! You’ll pick out the colors for them and just sit in. I feel like there are chances a dental assistant will do something Inês doesn’t like, but you would notice and take up for her.

“Hey,” you say. “You’re hurting her, be a little more gentle.”

(my orthodontist literally stabbed me in my gums once like 🥲 OUCH)

Nesh is clingy and loves PDA.

She wants to hold hands, kiss you, play with your hair, keep her arm around your waist, anything. She’s touchy, but not in a bad or overly sexual way. She just likes physical touch!

You two could be lounging and she’ll put one of her legs in your lap just because. Bonus points if you give her a massage.

She’s honest if you have a not-so-bright idea.

“Okay, T.H.I.N.K. to yourself. Is it T, true? Or H, helpful? What about I, inspiring? N—“

“Never mind I don’t even want to do it anymore.”

#meech la major #meech’s thoughts #uconn wbb #inês bettencourt x reader #inês bettencourt #gonzaga #gonzaga wbb #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #kk arnold #kk arnold x reader #paige bueckers x oc

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siredtosturniolos · 2 days

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/siredtosturniolos/749200097735213056/first-of-all-im-sorry-if-this-is-the-wrong-place

I just read this and omg it’s so fucking good like ????

way you’re wording it 😩😩 I’ve an idea for part 2 (if u make one) since the age gap is 18 and 23 u should make it a „forbidden“ love like I mean that reader and Chris are scared to tell Matt and nick (or anyone) about their relationship because of the age gap and they keep teasing each other in front of their friends and siblings maybe have sex and almost get caught. Something similar to that yk. For part 2 u should definitely let the relationship be a secret. Love uuuu

forbidden

Paring: Chris Sturniolo x Reader

Part 1: enemies

Summary: part 2 (part 1 is enemies!) A few months later, you and Chris had finally put a label on what the two of you were. Nick and Matt had made several comments about the age gap being weird, so Chris wanted to hide the fact you guys were dating. So you also had to keep it off social media. You both stick to teasing each other, gentle touches when no one is paying attention, but Chris has had enough. He want's to come clean, but do you?

Warnings: Brief smut, almost getting caught, lots of teasing 🤭

Authors note: thank you for the idea for part 2! Hope you enjoy it <3 (also going to start part 3 tomorrow! ;)

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

My eyes meet Chris’ in the slightly crowded room, and I suck in a deep breath when he lowers one of his eyes into a wink. He looked so good tonight, wearing a new zip up hoodie with grey, blue, and red graphic designs I hadn’t seen before. He paired it with dark grey jeans and had a black shirt underneath, his silver chain catching the lighting just right.

I’m shaken from my thoughts as Sam and Colby approach me, Sam holding a drink out towards me. “Thank you!” I smile up at him, giving them each a quick side hug.

I could feel Chris’ eyes burning into the side of my face as I listen to Colby’s newest paranormal experience, and I can’t help but smirk slightly. I knew Chris was jealous Colby had my attention, even if there wasn’t anything more to it than two friends talking.

“Hey guys.” I’m startled as Chris suddenly appeared next to me, throwing his arm over my shoulders.

“Hey man! Good to see you.” Sam grinned at Chris, dapping him up. Colby followed suit, “Whatcha’ talking ‘bout?” Chris asked, turning to look down at me.

I suppress a knowing smile as Colby restarts his story. Half way through I manage to sneak my arm around Chris’ waist, and I almost laugh feeling him tense up.

“That must’ve been so scary.” I tell Colby, letting him know I was still present in the conversation as Chris had went radio silent. Colby nods in agreement, and Sam chimes in with what he had also witnessed that night.

I let my fingers slip underneath the fabric of his sweater, then under his shirt and I can feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. I lean my head on his shoulder, ignoring Chris' eyes as he whips his head in my direction.

Sam gets interrupted by Jake calling him over, as Corey had just shown up and they both excuse themselves. The second their backs are turned to us, Chris immediately pulls my hand from his waist.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" He asks me darkly, staring down at me in the way I've come to love.

I shrug, looking up at him innocently, "Nothing." I manage to see past him and find Nick and Matt staring at us, questioning looks on their faces, and I take that as my cue. "Nick and Matt are looking, we should probably split up for a bit." I sigh, knowing I'd much rather follow Chris around all night.

Chris lets out a groan, "Damn. I wish we could just tell them so we could actually spend some decent time together." He rolls his eyes before squeezing my shoulder gently, and walking away to talk to Tara and Larray.

I walk over to the fridge and grab a can of lemonade, just having it cracked open when someone clears their throat behind me. I turn around mid sip to find Matt, crossing his arms over his chest with a disappointed look on his face.

"You look like a dad right now." I tease him, and I can tell he was fighting for his life to not crack a smile.

He shakes his head, "I may as well be. What's going on with you and Chris?" He asks me, lowering his arms as he maneuvers around me to also get a lemonade.

I put on my best poker face, "Nothing? We're just friends." I reply, shrugging my shoulders slightly.

Matt raises an eyebrow in reply, "Then why were you two just holding each other like that?" He asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"Our love langue is touch, Matt. You know how Chris is, you've only known him for all of your life but 2 minutes." I joke, making his face settle back into it's natural resting position.

"Well, then how 'bout we stand like that? Since you guys are just friends he won't mind." He grins at me, acting like he just caught me in a lie. He underestimates how far I would go to prove something, even if I am lying.

I set my can down and open my arms for him, "Lets do this." He's clearly surprised, but shuffles towards me anyways. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, and mine goes around his waist. I tickle him slightly and he nearly folds in half, causing me to laugh.

"Stop!"

We stand like this for a minute, before Johnnie walks over to get a drink. He starts talking to Matt about some band Johnnie had put him on, and I decide to look around and see what Chris is up to.

I find him still standing with Larray and Tara, but he’s looking at me. His face is scrunched up in anger, and I instantly begin to worry. He notices I’m looking back, and lets his eyes trail to Matt with a “What the fuck?” look on his face.

I glance at Matt, who’s still talking to Johnnie, “Hey, I’ll be right back.” I tell him, making him barely nod before he resumes his conversation with Johnnie. I walk towards the bathroom, hoping Chris would follow me.

I close the door and rest against the sink, biting my lip nervously. I hope Chris isn’t mad. There’s a soft knock on the door before it opens, revealing Chris. I take a step back so he can enter.

“The fuck was going on out there?” He impatiently asks.

“Matt was suspicious of us so I told him we’re just friends and friends stand like that together.” I tell him, grabbing both of his hands and giving them a reassuring squeeze, “You know you’re it for me.”

“Damn straight.” He grins at me, before lifting a hand to my jaw and tilting it upwards so he could kiss me. I let go of his other hand so I could wrap them around the back of his neck, tugging him closer to me.

The kiss gross sloppy, teeth clashing and Chris’ hands slipping down to my waist. He lifts me on top of the sink with no warning, making me gasp into his mouth. His tongue makes its way past mine, exploring my mouth. I left out a soft moan, and Chris groans in response.

“We should just tell them.” Chris whines as he pulls away, placing kisses down my neck.

“They’re gonna be mad.” I reply, tilting my head back so he has easier access. "Clearly they think the age gap is weird or something." I sigh as Chris leans away from me.

"At this point, they're going to be mad we've been hiding it from them for over a month." Chris points out, making me frown, "All that matters is that we're good with it."

I nod, "And we are. We can tell them soon but tonight with everyone here probably isn't the best idea." I reply, watching as Chris begins to smirk at me.

"We'll tell them tomorrow," He mutters, lifting his hand to toy with the band of my skirt, "But we can have some fun right now." With that, his hands guide my skirt down my legs and I can feel my heart pounding.

"Chris, your brothers are like 5 feet away from us!" I gasp, making him roll his eyes.

He lowers himself onto his knees, "Yet you aren't stopping me, angel." He begins to plant kisses up my thighs, making my legs spread for him on instinct. I can't ever say no to Chris when he wants to go down on me.

"Chris." I whine out as he presses a harsh kiss against my clit through my underwear. He meets my eyes and lowers one in a wink, making my center throb with need.

"Please touch me." I beg quietly, threading my fingers through his hair.

He hummed against my inner thigh, "Since you asked nicely like a good girl." He teases me, swiftly removing my underwear and stuffing them into his pocket. He gives me no time to protest as he quickly runs his tongue through my folds, letting it circle my clit.

I let out a breathy moan, instantly lifting my hand to my mouth to silence myself. I can't be loud considering there's a whole ass party on the other side of the door. Chris lifts my legs so they're resting against his back, and pulls me closer to him.

"Fuck!" I whine, rolling my hips into his face to which he lets out a moan, sending pleasurable vibrations up my spine. His large hands grip and squeeze at the sensitive skin of my thighs, almost distracting me from the fact he had just sucked my clit into his mouth.

I feel the coil begin to form and I squirm slightly, "Fuck Chris," I quietly groan, "Feels so good." Chris hums a reply, making my back arch and the coil gets even tighter, "So close." I whine, looking down at him.

I hold eye contact with Chris, "Please can I come?" I ask, knowing if I'm not looking at him when I ask he'll deny me. Kinky fucker has a thing for eye contact, which I've grown to love.

He nods against me, letting his tongue flick circles on my clit, and I finally feel the coil within me start to snap. My mouth is dropped open in a silent moan when suddenly there's knocking at the door.

"Y/N? You good?" Matt calls through the door, making my heart drop. I try to shove Chris off me so I could answer but he won't budge.

"Y-Yeah, be out in a s-sec!" I yell back, praying he didn't pick up on anything weird as I finally release all over Chris' tongue. My legs begin to shake as I'm over stimulated from Chris' tongue lapping up my release, pressing a gentle kiss to my clit before he pulls away.

Chris shakes his head in disappointment, "Was gonna ask you to return the favor but I guess I'll wait." He huffs out playfully, sliding my skirt back on.

"How the fuck are we gonna leave the bathroom without getting caught?"

"Shit."

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #writers on tumblr #writing #christopher sturniolo smut #smut

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thecreelhouse · 2 days

Text

accident prone

part one - cold-blooded and drifting away

Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!OC - Francesca “Frankie” Amato

Summary: five years after leaving Hawkins, Steve is still searching for answers on how to manage the pain the Upside Down permanently left him with. What’s only meant to be a mundane trip to the coffee shop and yet another doctor appointment turns into more thanks to shaky hands and unfortunate yet perfect timing, giving him hope, for the first time in a long time.

WC: 8k+

Includes: angst, hurt/comfort, ableism, language, PTSD, discussions of chronic pain/illness and disabilities, brief mentions of comorbidities, brief mentions of medical gaslighting, etc.

series playlist ⋮ masterlist

tether - chvrches

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺

“will we ever get away from this place? / it’s an image that’s burned on my chest / for a moment you need me to stay / cold-blooded and drifting away”

A/N: I touched on this more in the masterlist, but basically, this is a HC I’ve had since ST3. After all of the physical/mental trauma Steve’s endured, I imagine he’d end up with some sort of chronic pain disorder/illness/disability. May is Fibromyalgia Awareness Month, so I feel now’s a good time to share this. This will be 3 parts, and more Steve centric. This was easier to write with an OC than reader, so I hope y’all will still give this one a chance despite that. There’s not enough disability/chronic pain rep in fics imo— so chronic pain babes, this one’s for you. ♡ (Also s/o to @stevenose for the help, feedback, and encouragement!)

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It’s another brutally beautiful winter morning in Chicago, and that means it’s another morning Steve dreads leaving bed. Not the common, casual dread most folks talk about when coming back to work after a long weekend off. Or how people dread meeting their significant other’s parents, when they really mean they’re just nervous.

Steve feels dread deeply on the days he needs to get up, but can’t find the energy, or motivation, or a two for one special of both. There’s a certain way his stomach turns over and drops with this kind of dread, and it makes his aching joints just hurt more.

It’s simple, really— Steve hadn’t been himself since 1983. It’s not surprising for anyone from Hawkins to not be themselves for a while now. For Steve Harrington, though, it’s been rough, to say the least.

It began with nightmares. His mind started taking on massive amounts of a very specific type of trauma no one should ever face, especially not as many times as he had. He was awake more often than asleep in the beginning, terrified to shut his eyes and find himself back in the tunnels with the demodogs, or trapped far, far below Starcourt Mall, struggling for his life, relying on a child to save both him and Robin.

Steve didn’t even want to acknowledge the events of 1986, leading up to Hawkins transforming into hell on earth as the Upside Down bled into the sleepy little midwestern town. He refused to talk about it, or even think about it while he was conscious.

Now, it’s 1991, and the world continues to spin; people Steve graduated with were getting married, having babies, starting their own families… things he quietly longed for, even after confessing to Nancy that’s what he wanted with her.

Years later, Steve still regrets confessing anything to her. He’s happy she’s happy, with Jonathan, both of them career driven and building their life together with some sort of plan.

He’s happy for them, really, he is.

But Steve still longs to find someone to share a life with— a normal, long, happy life. And he’s tried, but there’s always some shitty excuse to stop things before they start with someone new. He never expects anyone he first meets to be The One, nor would he just settle; Steve wants that dream with someone who clicks perfectly with him, someone who doesn’t shame him for the mental anguish and physical pain he’s been burdened with from the trauma. He wouldn’t want that with someone who wouldn’t want to understand him, and love him unconditionally, while he returns that love to someone he truly adores.

Robin tried setting Steve up for blind dates, introducing him to new people, but he slowly lost interest in the process of getting to know someone. What was the point if everyone left the first night they slept together, and he had a nightmare? Or the moment something triggers a flashback, he’s left grounding himself alone. And when his joints lock up, or the haze in his mind gets too thick, he’s seen as a burden.

A liability.

Unworthy of love for something out of his control.

Why bother with any of this if it would just waste Steve’s time and energy in the end?

“No, Rob, I don’t want their number.” Steve grumbles into his scarf, turning another set up down as he’s dragging his feet along the sidewalk. He and Robin make the trek a few blocks away from their apartment to a nearby coffee shop. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he’s shivering and shaking, despite being bundled up. “This shit’s just draining any enjoyment I had in a social life.”

“Steve, the only social life you have is seeing doctors regularly.” Robin bluntly points out, and shrugs off the side eye Steve throws her way. She’s not excessively bundled up the way her best friend is, nor is she violently shivering. “Dude, you could’ve stayed home, I would’ve grabbed your coffee.”

Steve’s shaking his head, but Robin can’t tell if it’s from the cold or if it’s his response to her. “Doc said I gotta “keep my joints movin’”. Easy for him to say.” Steve flatly points out.

“Yeah, maybe, but I am proud of you for getting out of bed. I know that hasn’t been easy.” Robin has been one of the very few people in Steve’s life who has held space and empathy for him and his pain. She tries helping more than he lets her, but he feels bad. It’s Steve’s battle to fight, not hers. Robin has already had her fair share of trauma, she doesn’t need to try to juggle any more flashbacks or nightmares outside of her own.

“Thanks, Robin.” He’s quiet, but sincere. It really does help, even a little, to hear words of encouragement. Because without those, his own mind is just on a constant cycle of negative self-talk. It’s something he’s still working on in therapy.

If Steve was being honest, there was a lot he was working on in therapy.

It wasn’t long after that the two of them arrived at the coffee shop, groaning in unison when they realize the line was all the way to the door. There’s just enough room for them to squeeze right at the end, directly by the doorway. Steve keeps his scarf up against his face, shivering each time someone exits the cafe.

“When’s your appointment?” Robin asks, unable to take her eyes off the massive line of customers.

Steve, unfazed, replies, “Three hours from now. I planned for this, don’t worry.”

Robin finally turns around, shooting him a puzzling glance. “You plan your doctor visits around getting coffee?”

“… You don’t?”

“I see my doctor, like, once a year, maybe.” Robin shrugs.

“Must be nice.” He grumbles, burying his face further into the fuzzy warmth of the scarf.

Robin winces before giving a soft, “Sorry.”

A loud conversation at the front of the line grabs Steve’s attention, wondering what the commotion was about.

“Isn’t today your day off? The hell are you doing here?” One barista asks the customer, who he can’t see beyond the crowd behind her.

Another barista barks a laugh, occupied with the macchiato they’re making. “She can’t make coffee to save her life.”

“I can! It’s just… not good.” The stranger admits, response growing quiet towards the end in embarrassment.

The playful tones make it obvious they greet each other like this often. Something about the banter brings a tiny smile to Steve’s face.

“Usual, I guess? You’re sick if you say yes.”

“Why is it socially unacceptable to enjoy a fresh iced coffee in the middle of winter?” Steve chuckles to himself at the comment. “And yes, Cade, with extra sprinkles, pleaaaase.”

“Yeah, yeah, get outta here, ‘Key. You owe me that Dinosaur Jr. tape, better bring it next time, or I’m charging you real life, adult dollars.”

Walking out of the line, she makes her way over to the opposite end of the counter to wait for her order, shooting Cade one quick smile. “No Monopoly money? Dang.”

Steve’s gaze lands on her, eyes clinging onto the sight before him with no intention of peeling back. She has to be close to his age, but he immediately notices the cane she’s using, moving in time with her feet while walking. He’s in awe of the casually cool aura she seems to radiate, despite being mostly bundled up in layers, hiding any defining features besides the cane and a worn jacket, countless patches and pins covering most of its surface.

Robin snaps her fingers in front of Steve’s face. “Quit being rude.”

“I- huh? I’m not!” He retorts in a hushed tone. The line moves up a bit, and Steve’s grateful to be heading towards the warmth, and away from the frigid cold by the door.

“You were staring, dingus.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Steve’s face flushes red, but it blends in with his winter wind-dusted cheeks. The bonus of the scarf still pressed against his face helps, too. “I just- I never see anyone our age using mobility aids.” He tries sneaking another glance at the woman, but Robin steps in front of Steve’s line of vision.

“Quit it. I know you mean well, but I know how much you hate when people stare when you’ve got your knee brace on.”

Steve didn’t think of it like that; he squeezes his eyes shut as he nods with embarrassment. “Right. Shit. Yeah. Got it.”

“Thanks, Rhi, I owe you too.” The stranger’s voice floats above the chatter amongst others, not with volume, but a distinct warmth and sincerity. Then, voice turning up, she shouts towards the cash register, “I’ll get your tape tomorrow, Cade, promise!”

The line moves up, and Robin steps back in to move, too. Steve can’t help peering over again, and the timing is perfectly unfortunate; the woman only makes it about two steps before her hand violently jerks, sending the coffee flying forward forward and onto the tiled floor.

The room doesn’t fall completely silent, but it does settle into hushed voices, with some concerned onlookers, but mostly nosy and judgmental. Steve doesn’t miss the way some people in line feel the need to say something, like it’s their business. As if these strangers know her.

“She deserves it for being so obnoxious.”

Steve feels his jaw set, immediately bothered by the unnecessary comment.

She’s frozen for a moment, staring down at the mess, pooling around her boots. One of the baristas, Rhi, calls out to the back for someone to take over before rushing over to the scene.

“Hey, you okay?” Rhi asks her, to which she nods silently, carefully bending down with the help of her cane for balance while pulling napkins out of her pocket, trying to sop up the puddle of iced coffee. Rhi throws the towel down that was in her back pocket before reaching for one of the napkin dispensers on a nearby table.

“What the hell is she using a cane for anyway? She can bend her knees just fine.”

Steve’s fists clench in his pockets, and somehow Robin can still notice that; she’s reaching out to touch his coat-shielded arm, almost holding him back as she whispers “Steve, hey, don’t.” He bites his tongue, wondering how ignorant people can be when it comes to any of this; it’s always those who are able bodied who act like a disabled person’s struggle is an inconvenience to their own lives. Makes them feel high and mighty, like they themselves are invincible.

What a hard lesson that’ll be for them to learn, Steve thinks.

If life doesn’t disable someone, through accident or injury or a bad hand of cards dealt, lying in wait, it’s age that usually changes everything. To this day, it still shocks Steve that people just don’t get it.

Or maybe, they just don’t want to.

“Great, now we’re gonna have to wait even longer.”

The woman is kneeling on the floor, cane leaning against a table while she does her best to clean what’s in reach from the spot she ended up in; her hands continue to tremble, jerking involuntarily every so often. Tears well up in her eyes while shaking her head silently.

“Hey, it’s okay, I got this, babes.” Rhi continues soaking up napkins with the coffee; she tries consoling her friend before realizing how many people were staring. “Hey, haven’t your mothers taught you to mind your business?!”

Some customers scoff, others leave, but not before spitting rotten comments at the pair of them. The rest in line have common sense to mind their business, going back to talking amongst themselves.

”Well, at least the line’s shorter.” Robin murmurs, trying to look on the bright side. Steve wants to go over and help, but he’s torn; he doesn’t want to come across as if he’s pitying her, or trying to be a good guy for some kind of backwards recognition. He just knows how it feels when a health ailment gets in the way of your daily routine, and he really knows how hard it is to go without coffee when you’re looking forward to it.

“Great job, Rhi, you drove half the morning out.” An older woman scolds her from behind the counter while she's scurrying to catch up on orders. Rhi looks furious, but holds herself back from challenging the unnecessary comment further.

“Hey, I’ll make ya’ a new one, on the house,” Rhi offers. “Don’t listen to her, Cade and I would rather you be comfortable than deal with those assholes. Bet they actually make and like their shitty coffee, too. They’ll be back.”

Laughing softly, her friend sniffles, wiping her eyes, “Can I mop or something in return? You don’t need extra work ‘cause of me.” Rhi shakes her head, linking arms with her as she rises to her feet, pulling the woman up, too.

Rhi throws a thumb over to an empty nearby seat, “You just chill here, I got this under control, no sweat.” She gives her a quick side hug before hurrying to the back to grab cleaning supplies. Steve hears an audible sigh; the woman sounds defeated for the day, and it’s only 9 in the morning.

It’s a sign of defeat and fatigue Steve knows all too well, but he pushes down the desire to talk to her, knowing this isn’t the time. Plus, what would he even say as an introduction?

Hey, I’m Steve, and I’m disabled, too—

He shakes the thought from his mind, embarrassed he’d even think that was appropriate at all. He’s bummed that the first time he runs into someone else his age that’s disabled, is truly at a perfectly unfortunate moment in time.

When it’s Steve’s turn to order, he pushes every thought involving the stranger to the back of his mind.

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If Steve had a dollar every time someone ignorantly told him, “You’re too young to be in pain like that!”, he’d certainly have enough money by now for a better treatment plan. This is one of the very few things in life he wished his parents would actually help with; it’s not the easiest to juggle several jobs and still barely get by, with the bonus of always playing “catch up or drown” with medical bills.

It’s even more of a challenge to keep up with medical bills when jobs constantly let him go for the very few sick days he has to take, and it leaves him wondering, “Doesn’t the ADA protect against that kind of discriminatory shit?” except he never has the energy to research it.

Every doctor visit is the same routine; arrive with a list of symptoms, turning from nuisances to roadblocks in his quality of life. Telling them what he’s been feeling, or what he’s become numb to, physically and mentally. Or that the cons of his medications have started to outweigh the pros; it’s a struggle trying to find a combination when you need several kinds of medication, and it’s even more of a pain in the ass to change even just one, restarting the process all over again.

When one of the countless doctors he saw finally believed his pain, he was left with what a lot of medical professionals believe to be a last ditch diagnosis: Fibromyalgia.

Steve felt validated, for the first time since seeking help years after the traumatic events that plagued Hawkins for so long. He also felt lost, because what the fuck was fibromyalgia? Any time he’s heard anyone talk about it, it was mainly in judgment and criticism; even with the most life-altering of fibromyalgia cases, the majority of able-bodied people and doctors considered it to be a phony condition.

It’s been six months since his diagnosis, and Steve still feels just as lost and clueless since day one. It doesn’t matter how many packets and pamphlets the doctor gives him with handy information on what his chronic pain is, or what he can try as treatment, because nothing seems to work. Taking different vitamins and medications, trying physical therapy, trying out yoga— because everyone seems to think that one’s a cure— if you’ve mentioned it, he’s tried it.

There’s still no clear answer on where or how it starts; genetics, trauma, depression, sickness triggering something more long term? No one, no medical professional, or his own fruitless research with late nights at the library, can give a solid answer.

As time has flowed forward, all of the years of serious damage and injury from Hawkins and all its demons, supernatural and human, he wouldn’t be surprised if the trauma theory was true. His parents are fine (at least, on the surface, but they’ve got too much pride to ever say otherwise), so cross genetics out. Depression? Yeah, no shit Steve’s depressed.

Refer back to answer 1.

It’s a never ending cycle, and now that he’s aware of it, Steve is constantly wondering if this is how the rest of his life will be. Waiting rooms and lab work that tells him nothing about his pain? Humiliation with every doctor he sees, who tells him it’s not that bad, as if they live in his own damn body and know. Making a choice between using the last of a paycheck on another co-pay for another dismissive specialist, or on the medication he’s been on to help him at least live some kind of life, knocking some symptoms or comorbidities off the list.

Today, Steve’s in a waiting room where the fluorescent lights are too damn bright, pushing him onto the brink of a migraine. It’s quiet, which he’s grateful for, but he wonders if that has anything to do with the doctor, if they’re really any good, or he’s excluded from a local secret everyone else is in on.

The room is relatively plain; fake plants, small tables with outdated magazines, a handful of health PSA posters are scattered along the walls, and the chairs are much more uncomfortable than they appear.

Steve basks in the silence, at the very least; usually waiting rooms are too noisy, and it sets off his fight or flight instinct. That’s one he still has to get to the bottom of, but he had to push off therapy for a while with his tight budget. It was that, or skip this appointment he waited months to get in for.

That blissful silence doesn’t last long, of course, knowing Steve Harrington’s shit luck. With a swing of the office entrance’s glass door, the little bell dings, along with the clunky sound of shoes, faint against the basic carpet lining the floor. His head tilts up, and to his surprise, it’s someone that’s not decades older than him.

“Kid, what did I tell ya’ about those cursed platform boots?” A voice scolds from behind the receptionist’s desk, where this person is leaning against the counter, elbows on the surface, head in hands with a soft giggle.

Wait—

“Dad, my outfit begged for these boots today. Told me it’d die without ‘em.”

“Yeah, and one of these days, you’re gonna croak with those death shoes on.”

Steve can’t help the small, amused smile that graces his face, recognizing the woman from the coffee shop earlier.

“Kiddo, you still gotta sign in.” The receptionist pushes the clipboard towards her, not sounding annoyed, more so familiar with her presence.

“You better be saving all of these, Betty. Someday those autographs will be worth something.”

“Yeah, just as much as my 3 hour old coffee.” Betty teases; she’s an older woman, grey and silver hair in a perm that frames her face. Steve can tell the banter and chit-chat is a normal occurrence.

“Yeah, well, you enjoy that coffee, Bets. I dropped mine in the coffee shop and was too embarrassed to let them make me a new one.” She rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh. “It had those cute, crystal-lookin’, sugary, sprinkles too.”

Steve felt bad, remembering how flustered she seemed. He couldn’t help replaying this morning’s accident over and over in his head again. The end of her conversation with Betty floats over Steve’s head as he’s lost in his thoughts.

Spinning around, the woman’s eyes land on Steve immediately, confidently striding over in platform boots, cane working in tandem with her steps. She keep a respectful distance, one chair over and across from Steve.

Steve blushes, realizing he’s finally seeing her face completely as she smiles at him; it’s not filled by forced positivity, not like the ones all the healthier and able bodied folks give him. It’s warm and familiar, like sunshine on his skin; no pity, no fake empathy, none of that shit.

The contrast of her smile against her outfit, one that resembles something at the crossroads of 90s grunge and cute and cozy, with a hint of mall goth somewhere in her style, is something he admires. Her wild, black hair is tied into a messy side braid, hanging over her shoulder, with a thick, blonde streak interwoven in the braid.

“There’s never anyone in here that’s younger than 30. It’s kinda nice to see someone my age.” She admits in awe, then backtrack while her face falls. “I- not that it’s nice to see— oh my god, you’re probably not even chronically ill, I’m just assuming like a jerk. I’m so sorry.”

Steve’s unsure where to begin, but he returns the same warm smile back her way, hoping it offers reassurance. “Don’t apologize, I- yeah. I am, actually. It’s… kinda nice to see someone my age too, for once.”

“Lemme guess, you get told all the time you’re too young for this shit.”

“Kid, language.” Betty scolds, but she waves a hand at her, unfazed. “You better have a quarter for the swear jar, kiddo.” Betty closes the little glass partition, clearing her throat loudly.

“Right, introductions would be helpful, I guess,” She extends a hand out towards Steve, “Name’s Frankie Amato. Or, well, Francesca,” She cringes at her full name. “But everyone calls me Frankie.”

That explains why one of her friends at the shop called her ‘Key’ earlier, Steve realizes.

Steve takes a moment to reach back, observing all of Frankie’s tattoos and painted black nails, jelly and beaded bracelets colliding on her wrists. He shakes her hand, the contact pulling himself out of his daze, “I- I’m Steve, Steve Harrington. Sorry, didn’t mean to stare, you just— ”

“Oh, it’s okay, I know I dress like someone who tripped into their closet and left the house with whatever ended up in the outfit that day.” Steve snorts at the joke directed towards herself.

“It looks… cool.” Cool? Seriously, Steve? What is this, middle school? “ I- words. It’s. You- You look really cool.”

She stifles her giggles lazily, coming out as a snort, “Brain fog, huh?”

It shocks him to hear someone his age use the term. “How’d you know?”

“It’s like staring into a mirror right now, except you’re dressed way nicer than me.” She jokes, nodding to his cozy cable knit sweater, and Steve shakes his head, even though he’s smiling.

“Nah, no way, I’m still kinda dressing how I did in high school.”

“Oh, you think I dressed normal in high school? I was even more mismatched than this.” Frankie enthusiastically gets up with the support of her cane, twirling to show off today’s outfit. Her overall ambience is a kind Steve had never seen exude from anyone else before.

Tripping over her own feet, she yelps, losing the grip on the cane before losing her balance. Instead of hitting the floor, though, Steve catches her awkwardly, lunging out of his chair with his arms planked out in front of him. The rapid movement and odd position are doing no favors to his already irritated joints, but he wasn’t going to just let her fall over like that.

Frankie laughs, as if she wasn’t a foot away from cracking her head on the concrete underneath the thin, corporate-esque carpet. Steve’s so perplexed by her entire character, but he’s curious, wants to learn more.

“Are you okay?” Steve’s asking as he guides her into the chair next to her. She’s laughing, face flushing with embarrassment.

“Are you? I’m so sorry for that. Got a little too excited, I guess.”

“Or, it’s those damn boots.” A booming, yet mellow voice comes from the doorway leading into the doctor’s office. A tall, burly man with olive toned skin, and a scruffy salt and pepper beard with hair to match, holds the door open while giving her a look. “Francesca, quit trying to make that poor boy dance with you.”

“I was not—”

“Steve Harrington?” The doctor comes over to them, shaking Steve’s hand. He introduces himself formally with his name, following up with, “Dr. Amato. It’s nice to meet you.”

Before today, Steve knew the doctor’s name, but he’s just making the connection now that Frankie and his new doctor are related.

What a small world.

“He’s a stick in the mud, but you’re in good hands, promise.” Frankie murmurs, and her father rolls his eyes.

“What, did you forget I’m right here? I can hear you.” Dr. Amato deadpans. “Also, that’s biased of you to say, you’re my child.”

Steve’s honestly amused by the lighthearted banter between the father and daughter duo, that for a moment, he forgets why he’s even in this office to begin with.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” She shoots back, but there’s no venom in her tone. The teasing banter seems to be something she has with everyone she’s close with.

Her father narrows his eyes at her before turning back to Steve, waving his hand back towards the office door. “C’mon back, we’ve got a lot to cover from the files I could get from your previous doctor.” He doesn’t say it like Steve’s a burden, rather it sounds like the doctor actually wants to comb through the younger man’s medical history and help where he can.

As the two men head back into the office, Frankie settles into her chair, kicking her feet up and over the chair beside her before flipping through a crumpled magazine. Steve can hear Betty slide the partition open and scold her, “Kid, get your damn boots off the chair.”

“Oooh, that’s a quarter for the swear jar, Bets!”

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For once, Steve’s leaving a doctor’s office with hope. Genuine, solid hope. This isn’t like the false hope most doctors gave, if any at all. “There’s studies saying a cure’s not too far off.” and “This should be what helps, but if it’s not working for you, you must be doing something wrong.” That kind of medical gaslighting bullshit he’s unfortunately so used to by now.

Dr. Amato kept things honest, telling Steve whoever said a cure was on the horizon was a terrible liar, and doctors shouldn’t ever produce false hope like that. He told Steve he was doing everything right, and that sometimes, unfortunately, you can do everything right— physical therapy, a good night’s sleep, medication, eating well, drinking water, even caving in and finally trying yoga (which Steve loathes now)— and your body can still work against you.

“It might take some time, a long time, but if you’re willing to keep trying and work with what we’ve got, we might be able to find some kind of relief from your pain. It won’t be perfect, and studies are too new for fibromyalgia to determine cures yet, but with what I’ve learned from fibromyalgia patients over the years, every single body is different.”

Hearing that was already refreshing. Finally, a doctor understood that treatment for invisible disabilities like Steve’s weren’t easily helped with a generic, one size fits all, treatment plan.

“It’s a lot of trial and error, and that can be exhausting, as you already know. But getting to the root of the cause is crucial, I think. And judging off of your medical history, and what you’ve shared from what you’ve endured in Hawkins, I’d say a lot of it is both a physical and mental response to trauma. If you’re ready to face that, I believe you can find your way in time. Regardless, your pain is incredibly real. Anyone in the medical field who says fibro isn’t real is a quack.”

Steve wasn’t leaving with any solid answers, but this was the most reassured he felt for his future and well being in… well, ever, honestly.

After setting up a follow-up appointment with Betty, Steve begins to leave the office, when a light tug on his sleeve stops him in his tracks. Turning around, he locks eyes with Frankie, wearing that warm smile that feels like sunshine all over again to him.

“Steve, can I talk to you quick?” She asks softly, and Steve nods before he’s pulled into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry if I came off strong earlier. If that, like, totally didn’t scare you off, I was wondering maybe if you’d wanna hang out sometime?” Her words begin to turn into a nervous ramble as she finishes.

Steve smiles, but can’t think of a proper response. Damn brain fog. Just say yes, idiot.

“That was probably uncalled for, huh? I’m sorry—”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I- I’d like to hang out too.” Steve answers sincerely.

“Yeah? Okay, cool.” She smirks as the last word leaves her lips, silently teasing him. Frankie’s digging through her messenger bag, hoping to find a pen and some paper, even an old receipt would work; nothing of the sort comes up, so she pulls out her pencil eyeliner, waving it between her fingers. “Can I? It washes off easily, I promise.”

Steve’s brows furrow for a moment before he gets it, “Oh, yeah, no problem, that works.” He hopes he’s not coming off as too eager, but he truly is looking forward to hanging out with someone who just… gets it.

Awkwardly, Frankie takes Steve’s hand into her own, writing her phone number with the eyeliner on the back of his hand. As she scribble the digits, three things stand out to him.

The way she holds his hand is soft, but certain. Any awkwardness she had at first is shaken off while she finishes writing.

She’s got fingerless gloves on now, which he’s always found them funny; what’s the point of a glove if it doesn’t cover everything?

The tips of her fingers are tinged more pale than her skin tone. Her hands, even with the warm fabric, are fucking freezing.

They weren’t cold when he shook her hand earlier. “Your hands are cold,” He murmurs, kicking himself mentally for how blunt and invasive he must sound. Pulling away, she snaps the cap back onto the eyeliner, giving a lazy smile.

“The Windy City ain’t too kind to those of us with Raynaud’s,” The shrug Frankie gives plays off how much the winters here affect the disorder, and how much of an inconvenience it is to one’s daily routine. “I should really use full gloves, but they make it hard to grip stuff sometimes… I mean, I guess the cold does too, but I’d rather be cold— Jesus, I never shut up.”

“If it helps, once I get to know someone well enough, I never shut up, either.” Steve hopes the poke at himself eases her concern, and judging by the smile she gives him, he thinks it does.

“Well, I look forward to not shutting up with you, hopefully soon.” Frankie teases, reaching for the door. Looking back at him, she says with sincerity, “Get home safe, Steve.”

Before she can head back inside the office, Steve gives a nod and a warm smile, hoping it’s at least a fraction as warm and sunny as her own.

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“Robin!” Steve pushes the apartment door open, rushing in with excitement. “Robin, guess what, hey, guess, just guess—“

She looks up from the magazine she’s leafing through, sitting sideways on the recliner with her legs hanging over. Her eyes are wide with shock at his energy.

“You won a million dollars?”

“What? No. I mean, shit, I wish. But no.” He ends up on the couch, sighing happily to be sprawled out after a long day. If joints could cry, they’d probably be crying tears of joy right now. “Remember the girl from earlier? At the coffee shop?”

Robin nods, “Yeah, what about her?”

“Get this— her dad’s the new doctor I’m seeing, and she happened to come in when I was in the waiting room.” Lazily setting the scene, he plunges into his usual rambling. “We got to talking before my appointment, and she— her name’s Frankie— anyway, she’s just… she’s so cool, Rob. I- I don’t think I’ve met anyone like her. And Dr. Amato is really nice, like… kinda like Hopper, if he was nicer… and a doctor.”

“Hey, don’t talk shit on Hopper—“

“I’m not! I- don’t distract me,” Steve grumbles. “Anyway, it was weirdly… refreshing? Like he didn’t sugarcoat anything, or try telling me there’s a ‘cure on the horizon’, or some shit like that. But he wasn’t a dick, either. I don’t think I’ve met a doctor with that much empathy yet. And it wasn’t any of that bullshit about taking up yoga—“

“Why does everyone seem to think that works?” He’s been suggested this so many times, even Robin’s beginning to get annoyed for him.

Steve snorts, “Wish I fuckin’ knew.” Then he quiets down a bit, emotions hitting him. “I don’t think any doctor’s been this understanding, or validated my pain like this. He even said it’s common to still be in pain even if you do everything right… he- he told me it’s not my fault. Being sick isn’t my fault.”

There’s a pause, because Steve’s not sure if he’s even believing the words leaving his mouth, not after being gaslit by medical professionals for so long.

Robin throws the magazine aside to sit next to her best friend, throwing an arm over his shoulders for a side hug. “Of course it’s not your fault, you never asked for any of this.” She takes notice of the tears building in his eyes as he tries rubbing them away. “Even if you didn’t try everything out there, it’s not your fault. No one should have to suffer the way you have.”

“Especially everyone back h—“

Steve stops himself, still coming to terms that Hawkins is gone. Everyone in the group is safe, living better lives wherever they ended up on the map after the disastrous effects of the Upside Down bleeding into the real world.

“It’s cool, I get what you’re saying.” Robin tries to move the conversation forward before Steve can get hung up on the dismal facts. “Everyone in our group has damage one way or another… none of us deserved that.”

With a sigh, Steve nods before continuing, “He wants me to come back in a month, gave me some options for treatment to look into, see what works, what doesn’t, but he wants to find out why something might not work. Not just brush it off and move onto something just as useless. I really, really don’t want to get my hopes up yet, but it feels so validating to not be treated like a lost cause.”

“None of us are lost causes, ‘specially not you, Dingus.” Robin looks down and notices the eyeliner on Steve’s hand that you left behind. “What’d you get on your hand?”

“Huh?” He looks down, “Oh! That’s Frankie’s number! That—“ The digits are smudged. Some he can slightly make out, but the majority are swept away into a black, blotchy stain on his skin. “Shit. It was her number…”

“Eyeliner? Rookie mistake.”

“Hey, she couldn’t find a pen, or paper.”

“And she didn’t go back into the office for some?”

Steve’s dig back fades away as he wonders the same thing. The pair were right outside of the office. Why didn’t either of them—

Oh. Right.

“Probably brain fog… least for me it was. I couldn’t even think to reply when she asked about hanging out.”

“So call the d—“

“No. That’d be weird. So fucking weird. And wouldn’t it be against the hippo thing?”

“The what?”

“You know, the oath that doctors take, or whatever.”

“Oh my god, Steve, the Hippocratic oath?”

“Yeah! Close enough.”

“Not even, but I’ll give you this one today.”

Steve groans, sinking further into the couch. “I finally meet someone who fucking gets it, and lose their number immediately. She’s gonna think I’m avoiding her.”

The two are silent for a beat, until Robin gets an idea. “One of Frankie’s friends mentioned something about her owing him a Dinosaur Jr. tape, when we were getting coffee this morning.”

“Robin, what the hell do dinosaurs have anything to do with this?”

“No, the band, not the— oh my god,” Robin puts her head in her hands, sighing loudly before she continues, “My point is, there’s a record store next door to the coffee shop. Maybe she works there.”

Steve’s face lights up, but he stops his excitement, “Isn’t that also weird? Just… showing up where she works?”

“Maybe a little, but it’s better than guessing numbers, or ditching her, or trying to ask your damn doctor—“

“Okay, okay, okay!” He huffs. “You’re right. I should go tomorrow, maybe before work.”

“Uh… that’s the other thing—“

Steve’s heart sinks; he already knows what’s coming. It’s happened enough where he can spot the pattern from a mile away.

“They called, huh? Told you to pass the message along? Cowards. Can’t even fuckin’ fire me in person.”

“I tried bringing up the ADA to them, but they gave me some bullshit about the decision to let you go wasn’t related to your health.”

“I worked there for barely a month, and never took a day off.” When this happens, Steve’s on the fence between rage and depression, and right now, he’s angry, rightfully so. “I asked for a goddamn chair to rest between helping customers. That’s all I asked for. I did my job, I was nice, I— This is so fucking… so… so,” Steve can’t even find the words for how angry he is, fists clenching, nails digging into his palms while he screams internally.

“Steve, you’re worth so much more than being treated this way. You know that, right?”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees while he runs his hands through his hair, letting his head hang low as his throat tightens with the threat of crying.

“I appreciate you trying to fight it, but employers only get a slap on the wrist for discrimination, if that. Half the time, nothing is investigated. It’s so fucked. Can’t even keep a shitty retail job just for requesting an accommodation.”

“They’ve got a lotta’ nerve for a shitty grocery store.”

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me.” He tries joking it off, but it’s useless. “Like, it’s no loss to get fired from some stupid retail job, but Christ…” Steve picks his head up a bit, mouth still covered by his hands. It’s muffled, nearly missed when he mutters, “I’m so fucking tired, Rob.” His voice wavers, cracks, “I’m so goddamn tired of this.”

Robin knows nothing she says can make him feel better, not right now. She just uses the arm still around his shoulders to give a comforting squeeze, a tiny sign Steve isn’t alone.

At this point, Steve will take any empathy from anyone he can get.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next morning, Steve wakes up with nothing but fatigue pushing him deeper into his bed, despite sleeping for nine hours. He was already struggling in a flare up, but then remembers he lost another job, and it just weighs heavy on his already shit mood.

Does this ever get any better?

He should be happy he was finally heard out by a doctor. He should be glad his best friend defends him. He should be excited he met Frankie, someone who understands first hand how hard it is to exist with a chronic illness.

Instead, Steve just feels numb inside. Outside, everything hurts. He knows he should get up, eat something, start the job search all over again. He also knows if he pushes himself too hard, he’s down for the next several days.

There’s no winning when you’re always sick.

The more time separates Steve from the traumatic life he had back in Hawkins, the more he finds himself wondering if any of this is worth growing from. Sure, everyone in the party had long lasting PTSD— that alone could be debilitating— but no one else ended up with an illness considered fake by most of the world. Even chronic pains and ailments anyone else were left with weren’t as baffling as Steve’s battle with fibromyalgia.

Days like today make Steve feel like sinking into the mattress, and disappearing forever. He talks about it in therapy, and it helps, for a moment. Then when he’s mistreated for his health condition, something out of his control, he feels useless.

Back in Hawkins, Steve was able to at least look out for everyone. Protect his friends. He’d do anything for them if it meant keeping them happy, or safe, preferably both. He put himself last, always. There’s never any regret over taking care of others first, but if he knew it would’ve led to the deterioration of his health, maybe he’d have been a little more selfish and put himself first where necessary.

Jesus, I wish therapy wasn’t at the end of the week.

Rolling over into the pillow face first, he groans, remembering he wanted to stop at the record store, in hopes Frankie would be working and give her number out once more. And he does. He does want to go, he wants to see her, wants to get her number so they could eventually hang out.

Yet Steve can’t find the motivation to get up today. Not even for Frankie. Now, instead of feeling numb, he feels guilt seeping through his heart. Rolling back over to face the wall against his bed, he stares at the sunlight peeking through the blinds, dancing slowly across the wall as time continues on.

That might be one of the worst parts of being chronically ill— no matter how sick you are, the world never stops spinning, never waits for you to catch up. Time just… continues on. And if Steve was being honest with himself, he’d need years to catch himself up to speed.

Fatigue envelopes him, pulling him back into a deep, weighty sleep.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Winter’s nightfall comes before Steve can wake back up, and when he does, he feels even worse. Resting didn’t help, leaving him just disoriented and somehow more tired. An entire day, wasted to fatigue; just another day that could’ve been used to catch up in life, slipping through his fingers.

The phone rings, but he can’t get up. He can’t bring himself to roll out of bed, walk a few feet to the phone on his dresser to answer it. So, it rings. And rings. And rings. And rings—

As the shrill sound abruptly stops, Steve allows his eyes to fall shut again, until there’s a knocking on his door. Groaning, he pulls the blankets over himself, murmuring the weakest, “Go away.”

Rather than politely wait and try again, the door is pushed open; Steve pokes his head up, squints as light pours into his room, with Robin standing in the doorway.

“Oh, shit, wait, do you have a migraine? Fuck, dude, I’m sorry—“ Robin scrambles for the door, about to rush out, but Steve shakes his head, leaning up a bit.

“No, but if I did, I’d kill you right now.” He winces at how miserable he sounds. “Sorry… uh, what’s going on?”

Robin squints around his room, keeping the lights off for his sake, until she finds the phone. She grabs it, grateful the wall jack is long enough to bring the telephone over to him. Setting it down on his nightstand, she replies, “S’for you, Dingus.” Robin leaves it at that before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

Steve sighs, picking the handset off the receiver with an unenthusiastic, “Hello?”

“Bad day, huh?”

He immediately recognizes Frankie’s voice, perking up a little as he sits up further.

“How’d you get my number?”

“Robin gave it to me, she stopped by the shop earlier. Told me all about the eyeliner smudging off— I’m so sorry, that was such a dumb idea.”

At first, he smiles faintly, but curiosity gets the best of him. “Okay… why was Robin there? I— I swear, I didn’t ask her to— I was going to come by, but it’s been a hard day—”

“Steve, it’s all good. You don’t owe me an explanation, or anything. I’m glad she told me, though.”

“…. What else did she tell you?”

She giggles softly, “That you two saw me fling my coffee like a damn frisbee yesterday morning, and that you were planning on stopping in, but when I told her you never came by, so she figured you had a bad pain day. Y’know, she seems like a great best friend.”

Steve falls back onto the pillows, phone pressed against the side of his head while he runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, she is—“

“Damn right I am.”

Steve jumps at the sound of Robin’s voice cutting in from another phone in the apartment. “Robin! Get off the— hang up!” Frankie’s laughing hysterically on her end of the call, listening to Steve sigh dramatically as a click! sounds out, signaling Robin finally leaving the line. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be, I needed the laugh,” Her voice settles into a deflated tone, but only for a moment, leaving Steve curious, but he doesn’t pry. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Heart pumping wildly at the simple question, Steve answers truthfully before he can filter himself, “Well, nothing, now that I lost my job.” He cringes at himself, about to apologize for being so blunt, but she speaks first.

“Good! I— well— okay, not good about being fired, that fucking blows, but,” Steve’s unsure who is better at rambling and word vomiting, Frankie or him, but she’s on a roll. “We’re hiring, y’know. And by we, I mean me, ‘cause I’m the only one left running this place and reallyyyyy can’t do it alone.”

“Wh—“ A scoff of a laugh escapes him. “I don’t think I’d be the right person for that.”

“Why not? You listen to music?”

“Well, yeah, but,” Steve’s dizzy from how fast this conversation is moving. “I- I don’t know a whole lot, I just like whatever’s on the radio, sometimes other stuff, but— you barely know me. Why are you offering me a job?”

“Steve, I’m not offering you a job. You gotta have an interview first, duh.” Frankie’s teasing is lighthearted, playful, and keeps a smile on his face despite feeling confused about everything. “Look, no pressure, but if you’re interested, I’ll be there tomorrow. Or if you just wanna hang out, that’s cool too— unless you don’t wanna hang out, that’s totally fine—“

Steve breathily laughs, “Frankie,” into the phone, bringing her rambling to a halt. “I’ll be there.”

“Oh, okay,” He can hear her smile over the phone through her nervous giggle. “Okay, cool. See you tomorrow, Steve.”

“See you t— wait!” An idea pops into his head. “Don’t get coffee tomorrow.”

“Huh? Why not?” Then it hits her, “Oh, dude, don’t— you don’t have to—“

“Too bad, I remembered your order anyway.” He blushes at his own admission, wondering if it comes off creepy.

She still laughs, just as genuine as every other time Steve’s heard so far. “Yeah, we’re definitely alike if your brain fog fucks everything up except remembering someone’s coffee order. I’ll just have to memorize yours eventually, too. G’night, Steve.”

His cheeks hurt from smiling so wide for the first time all day, “Night, Frankie.”

The first time he’s felt something outside of guilt or numbness all day, and it’s all thanks to her.

… And thanks to Robin, being the nosy best friend she is, but he won’t admit that and let it get to her head.

#steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem!oc #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #sorry i’m using these tags the other ones are so dead 😭#my fics #accident prone

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mins-fins · 3 days

Text

☁︎ CHAPTER ONE : wait THATS the new guy!?

in which.. you are definitely not enjoying your first day at skyline highlights word count 1.2k

You truly want to die right now.

If you were to earn a nickel for every time you showed at a new job and you encountered two people arguing right in front of building, you would have a good twenty five cents! Five times! Five times this has happened to you! Your starting to think this exact situation has been programmed into your life, no matter where you go it always happens.

If you knew this was going to happen each and every time, you would've stopped trying a long time ago.

The two unknown guys arguing clearly don't notice you, and you feel your face burn as you stand there awkwardly, trying to figure out when you're supposed to start talking. "Um excuse me?"

Both men pause their shouting match and snap their heads towards you, and you swear you almost jump at the way they stare at you. "Oh hi! Do you need something?" The taller of the two asks, your eyes wander over to the ID wrapped around his neck, you are just barely able to read the name etched onto it, watching as it swings back and forth, his name is Kim Jungwoo.

"Oh I uh.. I'm a new hire".

Jungwoo and mystery boy, who you've now identified as Nakamoto Yuta both blink, seemingly puzzled by your words. You want to dig a hole, lay in it, and die, because they're staring at you so intensely that you think they might be trying to curse you. "Since when did we have a new hire?"

Yuta looks baffled by the question, turning to Jungwoo with a scowl leaving his lips. "I literally told you yesterday and kept reminding you a week before that a new product manager was coming after the last one got fired! You never listen to me!"

"Oh do you blame me for not listening you? Your the biggest liar around!"

"Was it because you didn't believe me? Or because your so airheaded you can't comprehend more than a paragraph of information?"

"You do this every time, no wonder Mark is the only one who can tolerate you.."

You blink as you stand between the two and watch their screaming match again occur, oh you're never going to get anywhere with the way everything is unfolding. You don't know how to exactly.. mediate this argument, so you sort of just stand there, watching as their voices get higher and higher.

"Are you two going to argue the whole time?"

The two again stop arguing when a third voice interjects, cutting them off midway through another snappy insult. They both roll their eyes like petty children, but they stop arguing. "Your making the poor guy nervous".

"Blame Yuu for that.."

Yuta wants to respond with another insult from the recesses of his mind, but he's stopped by a glare from the stranger. "You two, be quiet, you're so annoying" He then gives a smile as if he didn't just insult them.

He then turns to you, extending his hand out for a handshake. You reluctantly take his hand and shake it, why do you feel so awkward?

"Moon Taeil! Assistant manager, it's nice to meet you, Yn".

You were about to respond to his greeting, but you pause as he says your name. He notices your confusion, because he snickers. "I read your resume! It was very impressive.."

Your face heats up at the words, and you finally find your voice. "Oh was it? Thank you, thank you! It's nice to meet you too, Taeil".

"Alright! Yn, Yuta, Jungwoo, we still have like nine other people to introduce you too.. anyway, we have to start!"

Without asking, Taeil jolts you forward by the hand, making you squeak as you get tugged into the building.

"Are you nervous?"

Taeil's question makes you clear your throat, an exhale leaving your lips as you stare at the door in front of you. "Yeah" You respond, a pained smile on your face as you earn a hum from the man beside you.

"There's nothing to be nervous about, they all just don't know how to have a civil conversation without shouting".

"Yeah I can see that—"

"Maybe you should check your information before you try to correct me on something!"

"And maybe you should check your tone of voice before your position is taken away!"

You narrow your eyes judgmentally at the door, listening to the rising voices continuing to go back and forth. Taeil laughs at the look on your face, you don't think you've ever been met with so much arguing before, especially on the first day on the job. "What are they even fighting about?"

"Something stupid like if a hotdog is a sandwich or whatever.."

The answer makes you chuckle, and you look to the side as to not begin dying laughing. The door clicks open, and a stressed out employee steps out, sighing heavily. "At this point were never actually going to get to our achieved goal".

The stranger rolls his eyes, but the look of distaste on his face quickly disappears as he turns to you, smiling. "You must be Yn, Lee Taeyong, it's nice to meet you".

Jesus is everybody who works here some gorgeous angel? The question which crosses your mind amuses you, but you don't laugh in fear of looking crazy in front of your new coworkers. "It's nice to meet you too, are they.. okay in there?"

Taeyong blinks, then turns back towards the door, the shouts from inside piercing his ears. "I'm not— yeah I can't even tell anymore, you have nothing to worry about, though, they are all pretty much harmless for the most part" He waves a dismissive hand, placing his hand on the doorknob and turning it open.

You're not sure if that makes you any less nervous, but Taeil places a hand on your arm and gives you a reassuring squeeze. "Come on".

You almost want to immediately run away when you step into the room, the shouting is still there, it seems that these people enjoy throwing insults at each other like there's no tomorrow. You raise an eyebrow as you listen to their excessive swearing.

Taeyong sighs once again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Everyone shut up!" His shout is enough to get most of the yelling to step, even with the distasteful murmurs that follow. "Thank you, this is Yn, the new product manager".

And suddenly, everyone is looking at you, staring you down and practically examining every part of you.

"Wait THATS the new guy!? I thought he was coming tomorrow!"

Yuta then lets out another scoff, punching the taller male beside him in the shoulder. "I told all of you he was coming today! You never listen to me!"

"Can you blame us?"

"Why do all of you say that!? At this point Mark is the only one I can trust".

Taeyong sighs, work is never going to get done. Taeil simply chuckles, amused by the shouting of his coworkers, he looks to you and pokes at your shoulder. "You'll get used to their.. stupidity, you've already met Yuta and Jungwoo, Taeyong is team leader, Johnny marketing coordinator, Doyoung works in finance, Jaehyun communications, Mark creative direction and Donghyuck is head of operations".

You think you mishear him when he points at Donghyuck, who looks like a teenager, you blink, then look back at Taeil. "Donghyuck?"

"Yes?"

"He's head of operations?" You ask, sounding much more judging than you want to. "He looks so.. young".

"Oh, yeah, he's the youngest of the bunch, he's only been here like two years!"

"So why is he head of operations then?"

Taeil simply stares at you, it seems he'd rather leave that question unanswered. "He's just good at his job, of course!"

You blink again, narrowing your eyes at him.

You might not survive your first day here.

previous masterlist next

taglist 𓏧 ↳ @junjiie, @freckledsunshin3

#☆ skyline highlights! 일이칠..#nct 127 #nct 127 au #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 series #moon taeil #johnny suh #lee taeyong #nakamoto yuta #kim doyoung #jeong jaehyun #kim jungwoo #mark lee #lee donghyuck #nct 127 x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

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callsignfoxy · 10 hours

Text

Blue-collar!Simon who goes to the same restaurant every day for lunch, ordering the same thing, but today he takes note of you, the new server, and you strike up a conversation.

Fem!reader POV Word Count: 1079

"___, is it? Uh, thanks for gettin' this out to me so quickly," he grunts as his eyes meet yours.

Then, after yesterday, you had a sneaking suspicion that he may be the kind to order the same thing every day. After asking around, the other servers confirmed your theory. You took a risk today, and hopefully, it'd pay off. You may not want to do the waitress thing forever, but you were damn good at your job when it came to grumpy customers.

You intended to turn away to attend another table when you heard him speak and met his gaze. Oh, so he does know how to talk, you thought humorously, turning more of your attention onto him. The first time you met the large man sitting in the booth was a couple of days prior, and you had tried your best to do your waitress thing.

Flashing your bright smile that usually did well. Even commenting on the weather and trying to make conversation. He gave his order, and then all you received in response were short nods, a few grunts, and barely veiled annoyance. You backed off, assuming he just wanted to enjoy his meal alone. No harm.

Smiling brightly, you tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear that had fallen out of your updo. "Yep, that would be me, and don't mention it. I figured that might be what you were ordering, so I thought, 'Why not?'" You chuckled. He nodded in response, and you really couldn't help yourself. "But, you know my name now; how about yours?" You inquired, trying to make small talk.

Simon leaned back into the booth, taking you in more before responding. "Simon," he stated simply, his voice like gravel. It softened slightly as he added, "Was a damn clever move, puttin' in the order early." His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners, suggesting a slight smile you couldn't see behind his black mask. "You always this attentive with your tables?"

"Ah well, when you work in the business for a while, you pick up a thing or two," you explained with a self-assured smile while pouring his tea into a mug. You took him in for a beat; his light-wash jeans were covered in concrete dust, and his white t-shirt had multiple oil stains, among others. The black mask was odd, but plenty of people wear masks out and about these days. Your eyes trailed subtly to his forearm tattoos, but you didn't linger. "You part of that crew building that new skyscraper down the way?" You asked curiously.

"Aye, that's us," he confirmed, the pride in his profession evident even through the stoic delivery. "Construction site manager for that project. It's been a right sod to keep on schedule with all the weather we've been havin'." His hand gestured vaguely to the window beside him, where the rain was still coming down in buckets.

"Should be a right monster of a building once it's done, though. Can see it from miles away," he added, a bit of admiration and pride twinkling in his eyes.

"Sounds like quite the task, being a manager of such a large project and team," you commented, raising your eyebrows. You'd held a manager position at your last serving job and even just that was a lot. You couldn't imagine the enormous undertaking of managing a whole skyscraper project.

"Like herdin' cats most of the time, but... bigger and a lot more swearing involved," he chuckled softly. When you joined him, it was like he realized he'd let the sound out and then cleared his throat. But yeah, bloody nightmare somedays, but it's what I do," he finished.

"An' the rain?" you asked, gesturing to the window with your carafe. Simon rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated huff.

"The rain," he said glancing back out at the storm, "sure doesn't make the job any easier, but gives me an excuse to come here and get out of the wet for a bit." His eyes landed back on to you, the brown in them a little warmer than when he first came in.

You smiled, seeing that his shoulders relax slightly more. That alone was a job well done for you. "Well, glad to provide a a little bit of respite," you said good naturedly. "I'll quit talkin' off your ear off though, and let you get back to your meal. Just call me out if you need anything. Otherwise, I'll be back with the check," You nodded with the tea carafe and turned away to attend your other tables in your section.

Simon, for his part, watched you turn, feeling your presence wane like a warmth he hadn't realized he was basking in for the moment. He tore his gaze away from you, the reality of his solitude trickling back in as he dug into the meal that had completely gone unnoticed until now.

"All done here?" You said, picking up his plate a little while later. "Just the check or would like some tea for the road?" You asked.

"Jus' the check, thanks," he said with decisiveness. It was your turn to nod as you fished the check out of your apron to place it on the table. You watched as Simon pulled his wallet out and placed the notes on the table, not missing the extra he had added. he shifted out the booth and stood gazing down at you. "Thanks for the quick service, Keep the change," he said in a gruff but appreciative tone.

"Just don' my job. The cook makes it real easy though. She whips up meals faster than you can blink," you joked with a chuckle. "So, Mr. Simon, same time, same meal tomorrow?" You smiled, returning his gaze.

Simon gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Same time, same meal." With that he headed towards the door, his footsteps echoing softly against the diner's linoleum floor. You watched him go, with a small smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Maybe there was more to Simon than just grunts and nods after all.

As you continued your work day, the interaction with Simon would pop up when your mind wasn't occupied, and you couldn't help but be curious about the masked construction worker that had graced your section. It was a curiosity that had you looking forward to tomorrow. Same time, same meal.

I'm thinking of doing more tandem POV going forward because I know that man had some thoughts. Would that be confusing? Idk, anyways, hope y'all enjoyed 😘

#cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 #call of duty mw2 #cod simon riley #cod fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod ghost

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katiekatdragon27 · 2 days

Text

Guuuyyyyyyys? Can we all just agree that this is canon noowwwwwww?

These two have been eating at my brain all night it’s chronic.

Like?? AUGHHHHHH I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM I LOVE THEM I-

Every fandom I'm in has that one straight-passing ship that I make my personality for a couple weeks lol. This is that straight-passing ship for Rayman lol.

A buncha ideas and progress below cut:

Teensy Ray Thoughts:

Teensy Ray (who's name is probably Raymond I haven't decided yet) is the kind and soft-spoken leader of the Rayman Fan-Club. He is the go-to person for all things Rayman, and has basically turned his house into a makeshift shrine museum for the guy.

He DIYed his entire cosplay of Rayman. He cut up his cloak and altered it to look more like a "hoodie", even wrapping his arms with bandages to represent Rayman's "limbless-ness." The thing he struggled with most was the hair.

Speaking of the hair, the "implant" that Polokus talks about in Origins was actually a little bird creature he found one day. Its tail feathers stick up like Rayman's two hair strands and can whirl around in a haircopter style.

The creature is also a kind-of wing man for TR. It can read how he feels and will move its tail accordingly.

The reason why TR started the Rayman Fan-Club and dresses as him a ton was because way back in the day, he was directly saved by Rayman (like Rayman hauled his ass out of danger manually kinda saving). He feels like the club is the least he could do to repay his hero

Also he and Ray are pen-pals lol (but Rayman takes decades to respond)

Teensy Ray is a hopeless romantic. Any sort of romantic gesture, no matter how small, sweeps him off his feet.

He was originally Teensy Queen's "safe date." He was down for it, both because she was incredibly pretty and because she let him go on super long rambles about Rayman.

When she eventually fell for him, he fell for her almost instantly, and things have been going smoothly ever since lol.

The "How Did You Bag A Baddie?" audio.

Teensy Queen Thoughts:

Queen Teensy (honestly might name her Quincy lol) is the bad bitch teensy of the Glade. She has the heart of an adventurer, constantly running away from the boring royal duties to practice her magic and fighting skills.

She will run off, kick ass by halting a nightmare invasion of some rural town, then return just in time for her royal duties.

She loves fighting almost as much as she loves Rayman lol.

Queen had a mega crush on Rayman and was desperate to get with him. However, Rayman (the aroace king he is) took no interest in her whatsoever.

She decided to settle for TR as a sort of "substitute" for Rayman at first. She was constantly heckled by her family for never giving any man a chance, so she retaliated by grabbing the teensy who looked the most like Rayman and basically fake-dating him.

After a couple months or so of just being safe-date buddies, she started to gain actual feelings for TR, to which he reciprocated. She was in a lot of denial about it though for a while.

She be like "I don't date dorks!" then ends up with this mf.

Teensy Queen is Grand Romantic Gestures in teensy form. She will go out of her way to create large displays for the people she loves and cares about.

The "EXCUSE ME, HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES." kinda person.

That's all I have rn. Expect more art of these guys cuz they're gonna be so everything to me for like two months lol.

Thanks for indulging in my delusion lol. Have a lovely day :)

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nqmonarch · 2 days

Text

Aeon Brainrot Fic Part 1

Goal: Make a yandere Aeon harem. This is part 1, introducing Aeon 1, guess who it is (it's in the tags).

Aeons can transform into human forms to like blend in and shit, they're still Aeons but they're not the size of a planet. It's like true form human form shit, not sure if that's canon (it is for Aha apparently) but it is in this story.

CW: None, but this series will probably become a yandere one later (but that's not in this part) so get attached at your own risk.

Your search history was downright concerning.

Hot Aeons near me

Would you die if you fucked an Aeon

Fuli video IPC

How to talk to an Aeon

Can you bring dead Aeons back to life

Who is Idrila

Can you date Aeons

That was okay so long as none of your coworkers knew about it. People on Herta's Space Station tended to have some weird interests but yours... they'd gone a bit far. On the bright side thanks to your knowledge of Aeons (even if it was due to unsavory desires like holding an Aeon's hand) you'd been recruited to help with the Simulated Universe.

You just weren't allowed to experience it yourself. Huge L for you. Instead you had to watch as this random space racoon ran through it all AND HOLY SHIT DID THEY JUST GET KISSED BY YAOSHI? NO FUCKING WAY!!!

"Trailblazer," You were near tears when they exited the simulation causing them to rush over to you, "How-- how could you? I thought we were friends..."

The Trailblazer looked at you nervously like a lost child as Herta let out a 'tch', "Control yourself," She turned to the trailblazer and began to brief them about Yaoshi all while you stared at the floor in despair.

"...It should've been me..." You whispered punching the floor softly and then apologizing to it, the floor didn't deserve that.

Sure you may be a minor fan of the Aeons, they were really cool, and maybe you made fanart and fanfiction of them and consumed a lot of it (the very little there was, to be honest the majority of the merch was by you) and bought all the merch even the overpriced Qlipoth merch from the IPC and maybe-- Okay you were a fan. You weren't a fanatic though it wasn't like you were stalking the Aeons or giving them gifts but... No. Your morals went against that, you were a good person who just happened to like atrocious people.

But Aeons couldn't be judged by human standards, so you couldn't say they were atrocious. But it'd be so cool-- so so cool to meet one. You at least had to try, but how?

You gave up. It was impossible to meet an Aeon of your own will, and once more you were confined to your bed of tears. You weren't able to stay in your room and cry for long though because this new researcher had taken up a hobby of annoying you. You didn't even know their name they were just always there.

You were making some work appropriate art of Tayzzyronth, a beautiful creature despite the destruction it left in its wake. You heard it'd been born out of loneliness being the last of its species-- ISN'T THAT TRAGIC?! You really wanted to hug the poor bug. But if it wasn't for that loneliness it would never be able to become the beautiful Aeon it could be, what a tragedy...

"So, whatcha doing?" An androgynous voice came from behind you, as you shot into the air, and slapped your hand over the person's eyes.

Oh it was them, you should really figure out their name, "Shit-- I thought I told you to stop sneaking up behind me?!" The panic was barely concealed in your voice as they slipped their hand up to remove your hand from their eyes.

"Damn, you suck!" They said, the audacity of this no name researcher!

You glared at them, holding your hand to your chest, "Excuse me?!"

Unfortunately for you, they took the opportunity to look at your laptop behind you, "Ooo where'd you get this photo?"

You were going to cry. Actually, maybe if you knocked them out you could convince them it was a hallucination. Well, a good punch to the head should do it! You raised your fist and punched them straight in the jaw. They stumbled back, still clearly conscious, and a light blush on their cheeks.

Maybe you should've aimed for the eyes? Eh, whatever you could just keep going until they were knocked out. You raised your hand again, maybe a good slap across the cheek would be better. It connected with a snap, leaving a red imprint on their cheek.

Fuck, they were still conscious. How were you going to explain this, actually, you should've tried this to start with.

You stared dead into the new researcher's eyes, "You were hallucinating."

Both of their cheeks were red as they blinked at you with amber eyes, once and then twice before beginning to laugh, "Ahahahahaha!" They began to clutch their stomach and you began to look around for a weapon.

You had no other choice now, "Man I really didn't think you'd do that!" They spoke elatedly, as you grabbed the monitor from your desk, they paused. "Wait what are you doing?" You raised the monitor above your head and they began to laugh hysterically again.

You paused letting out an aggrieved sigh, "Stop laughing!" What was wrong with this person?! Sure the researcher's at Herta's Space Station were weird but this one was extra weird-- actually you'd met weirder. You lowered the monitor and stared at them calculatingly.

"Aw, why'd you stop?" They teased you, leaning closer to you.

You don't think you'd be able to get away with murder. "I wasn't going to do anything." You stared blankly into their eyes and put the monitor away.

"Oh c'mon, is it because I was laughing?" They scuttled after you like a rodent, "Do it, do it!" They egged you on, "Why're you putting it away?"

You looked back at them blankly, "It was never out in the first place. You're hallucinating."

They blinked back, once, twice, "So... was I also hallucinating about the Tayzzyronth fanart you made?" This bastard. No, no if you killed someone you'd get found out. Maybe you could lure them to one of those airlocks and they could mysteriously fall out into space? Yeah, yeah, that'd be good.

But right now, you heard the steps of several researchers shit-- break must be over. You ran over to your computer closing out of your drawing program, and fifteen different tabs all relating to Aeons, then cleared your search history. You were safe another day.

Except... you stared over at the unknown researcher, "Not a fucking word."

They nodded, and you heard your coworkers enter, "Y/N, you stayed behind for lunch? Make sure to take care of yourself too," Generic coworker number one said and you nodded absentmindedly in response as the unknown researcher turned to them.

"Hey do you guys want to see this really cool art Y/--" That fucker. You ran over, slapping your hand over their mouth, and letting out a nervous laugh.

You stared at your coworkers, "Uh my... my..." fuck if only you knew this person's name, "lover,"

YOU COULD'VE SAID RESEARCHER WHY DID YOU SAY LOVER WHY WAS THAT WHAT YOUR MIND WENT TO-- NO DEAL WITH IT LATER YOU HAD TO FOCUS GET IN THE ZONE! GET IN THE FUCKING ZONE!

"Yes, my lover seems a bit tired I will uh put them to rest, please give me some time," You said letting out a small forced laugh and you heard the unnamed researcher begin to laugh from behind your hand you turned to them with a glare and whispered, "I will choke you."

With that you dragged them out of the room, keeping your hand over their mouth. Once you left the room you decided to let them breathe but instantly regretted it, "Choke me like you hate me but you love me--"

"Why are you like this?" You stared at the researcher pitifully and they only smiled at you.

"So about that fanart--" They began.

"Can you keep your mouth shut?!" Sure it was known that you studied Aeons but, your personal feelings weren't as well known. Maybe you could just write it off as research?

Somehow this lead to you and this random ass researcher whose name you still didn't know in your room late at night. In exchange for their silence you had to show them your collection, which they were now leisurely thumbing through.

"Ooo, I always felt like IX would be super cuddly if they weren't like doomed to kill whoever they were near, just the vibes," They commented offhandedly looking at some of your fanfiction.

"Right?! You get it!" You said excitedly and at their stare changing to focus on you, you immediately receded into yourself, "Why did you want to look at this anyway?"

They blinked at you, once and then twice before a smile stretched their cheeks wide, "It's funny. I've met followers of Yaoshi who worshipped the ground they stepped on like little dogs! The Annihilation Gang would've done anything for their "savior" Nanook. But..." They stared at you, cheeks rosy and excited, "to love them all with such fanaticism, even I could barely stand Tayzzyronth! They were amusing but became tiring quickly. It's just fun." They grinned at you ecstatically.

"I'm not a fanatic," You said in defense, "I can just admire the beauty of the things around me."

"Ahaha yes, yes!" They nodded at your words and then with eyes still in the shape of crescents asked, "Do you have any works of Aha by chance?"

You perked up at their sudden interested and cleared your throat, "I mean obviously, each Aeon has their own strong suit and beauty. Even one that only chases laughter with no regard of their effect on their world. There's still something so charming about it," You said seriously staring into the researcher's eyes.

They read through fanfiction, admired fanart, and then broke your piece of merch. That fucker--

"Are you asking to get hit?" Your smile was strained as they laughed before pausing.

"It's starting to get boring again," They muttered and looked at you, thinking for a moment before shrugging, "I'll be back! Don't forget me, okay?"

You stared at them blankly, "Yeah, by the way, who are you?"

"Ahahaha!" They let out a laugh as you remained emotionless, "I was..." they placed their finger to their chin and then pointed it at you, "your lover right?"

With that you watched their body disappear into a stack of cards which fluttered throughout the room. What the-- Had you been hallucinating all along?! You stared at the space where they had once been.

If it wasn't a hallucination it was someone strong, who derived joy from making people embarrassed, and wanted entertainment-- maybe a slight masochist as well based on their reaction from you hitting them? Your heart began to speed up, if they were an Aeon it would be Aha but... Aha would probably bring more chaos with them, more destroyed things.

A card landed on your cheek and you moved to brush it off, but it stuck. And then the rest of the cards began to turn to your body and glide toward it.

"What the fuck..." You stared at them for a split moment before beginning to run. Fuck-- it didn't matter who they were! No way was that an Aeon! Probably was just another asshole from your department playing a prank on you!

Why were the cards still chasing you?! Surely if you ran enough they'd stop! You raced through the space ship until you eventually reached the room that was the entrance to the simulated universe. Oh there was the trailblazer and Herta how convenient!

"Can I get some help?!" You called out and they both turned to you, unfortunately talking made you slow down a bit and--

"Mfmph..." You were a card mummy now great, at least you found someone that can help-- WERE THEY IGNORING YOU? AFTER ALL YOU DID? TRAILBLAZER NO-- YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE FRIENDS

Yandere parts won't be showing yet, they'll show later when some more Aeons are introduced (on this note I really do have to catch up with sim universe for the few crumbs of Aeons we're allowed because like 75% of this is just my delusions, but hey that's fun).

Pretty sure Aha is canonically a masochist because of the Aha doll thing. Anyway I feel like Aha would eat up someone being like romantically into not just one Aeon (like the one they worship) but literally wanting to fuck all the Aeons including Tayzyyronth which let's be honest, people aren't super big on because of the murder.

Also I feel like Aha would be into fanfiction and fanart and all that stuff? Dude would be one of those fans that leaves trolling hate comments on their favorite work but if the author stops updating they will hunt them down.

Anyway don't let that distract you from the fact you were about to murder a new researcher over seeing your Tayzzyronth fanart.

I wrote this in 2 hours on the spur of a whim

#hsr #reader insert #gn reader #hsr x reader #aha x reader #aha hsr #hot aeons near me #hsr aha x reader #theres not enough aha fic and like ik guys #aha isnt super hot but like they are pretty hot #like not nanook lava levels but like aha would set a planet on fire

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