#this is why i had been paying it directly to my mom up until this most recent payment
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the moment mike accepted steve into the party
he didn’t get it. what was so good about steve harrington?
yeah, he was good looking and strong. but other than that? nothing. in mike’s eyes, he was still the asshole rando that dated his sister. and he didn’t plan on that changing.
until march of 1985.
mike had been held back after class for falling asleep. it wasn’t his fault. he couldn’t ever sleep unless someone else was with him. and there was no way in hell he was gonna cuddle with nancy. besides, he was good at the class— so no need to pay attention really.
at least miss noelle didn’t call his mom.
dustin, lucas, and will were waiting for him in the hall. oh, and max, cause she was actually kind of cool.
“what was up with miss noelle?” lucas asked as they walked down the hall.
“pissed i fell asleep in class,” mike said dejectedly. max snorted from beside him.
“maybe just don’t fall asleep?” she asked rhetorically.
mike huffed and flipped her off. “you sound like my dad.”
dustin shuddered from his other side. “ew. not cool man.”
mike rolled his eyes. “it’s true! my dads always like ‘just don’t this’ and ‘just don’t do that’ instead of actually helping! It’s so annoying.”
will came up and bumped arms with him while they finally left the school. classes were done and they were finally left to do what they wanted.
“uh oh.” came from lucas. mike sighed, catching sight of what— or who— lucas was “uh oh-ing” about.
“just don’t look at them,” max said under her breath while she averted her eyes to the ground.
“that never works,” retorted lucas.
“you have any better ideas? just keep walking.”
great. the one day nancy or jonathan aren’t picking them up and they run into noah and joey.
in 1983, el had gotten troy and james to back off— even scaring them into moving. but el’s not here right now, so she can’t help with noah and joey— the party’s most recent tormentors.
will stepped closer to mike and mike nudged his hand with his. everyone pulled in closer to each other in hopes of concealing themselves and the others. of course, it didn’t work.
“hey hey! look man, it’s the circus!” mike saw noah nudge joey beside him.
“shit,” dustin cursed.
and ‘shit’ was right. no one wanted to deal with noah and joey. especially with the mood mike was currently in after being held up.
“seriously what hell is it, tanner?” mike addressed noah directly.
joey whistled lowly and took a sharp step forward. will and dustin both flinched pretty hard. max gave a twitch but lucas and mike held their ground for the most part. noah and joey got a kick laughing at dustin and will.
“awwww they’re scared, joey! like a bunch of babies!”
mike forgot how stupid kids sound most of the time. they could call him a baby all they wanted— nothing will ever compare to watching will get possessed and then watching bob die.
mike still reached out and grabbed someone’s hand. he thinks it was lucas’.
joey and noah were both a good bit taller than mike, which meant they were also a good bit taller than everyone else in the party. they liked to use their height to their advantage but mike had dealt with monsters twice his height. it wasn’t scary, just annoying at this point.
still didn’t help the fact that they didn’t want to deal with this.
mike had zoned out, because next thing he knew he was being shoved to the ground. it probably wouldn’t have hurt too bad if they weren’t outside in the parking lot. mike felt his chin bust on the pavement in a sickening repeat of ‘83 with troy and james.
will was there in a second with dustin, helping him up off the ground and dusting him off. dustin held his hands while Will held his face, frantic over the now gushing blood that he could feel running down his neck. he was trembling. why was he trembling?
he faintly heard yelling and assumed lucas and max were arguing with joey and noah.
“just fuck off, murphy!” he heard max yell at joey. “we’ve literally done nothing to either of you and yet you make us hate our fucking lives!”
“aww, noah, she thinks we actually care! isn’t that cute?”
mike stood up with the help up dustin and will. but that only served to turn noah and joey’s attention onto him. well. better on him than on max.
“so whatcha gonna do, wheeler? gonna push me like troy? gonna wimp out and go cry to mommy and daddy?”
mike actually considered pushing joey. but that’d probably just make thing worse. if el hadn’t been there last year to save his ass from troy mike would’ve gotten pummeled.
but it was a serious option he considered.
dustin stepped in front of mike and shoved joey back. mike didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten. wow. he was really out of it today, huh?
“back off murphy.”
mike wanted to hug dustin, but at the same time he wanted to smack him upside the head for putting himself in the way. it’s easier when they target mike. just let them target him. he doesn’t care at this point.
dustin stayed arguing with joey and stopped only when there were multiple shouts from max, will and lucas.
noah had pulled max’s hair and in return was shoved to the ground by lucas. but noah had taken will down with him and now will struggled with lucas and max to get noah off.
mike saw red, and in a moments notice had noah off of will and on the ground. he was vaguely aware of dustin and max cheering him on with dustin and will watching.
it didn’t last very long until noah shoved mike hard enough that he fell backwards and busted his head on the ground. again.
at this point he was working himself towards a concussion. just like steve, he thought deliriously. and speak of the devil.
“aye!”
mike, dustin, lucas, will, and max all looked up, startled by the familiar voice and claps.
“what the fuck are you shits doing, huh?”
steve fucking harrington was suddenly right next to mike on the ground, kneeling and helping him sit up.
“shit, you ok mike? that’s a nasty scrape you got there. i have bandaids in the car, let’s go get you one, yeah?”
mike just nodded. he really wanted to know what the fuck steve was doing there and why he seemed to intent on helping.
“who the fuck are you?”
steve stood with mike halfway to the car, the rest of the group following, mike noticed. joey and noah stood idly in the parking lot, seeming put out by steve’s sudden appearance.
steve’s eye twitched and mike watched him bite the inside of his cheek. mike watched in real time as steve recognized joey and noah and seemed to piece together exactly what happened. he scoffed. not what mike was expecting.
steve gently nudged mike towards the car and knocked his knuckles on dustin’s hat. “you kids go get in the car. max you can toss your board in the trunk.”
dustin seemed to want to protest but even he could see how pissed steve was. even max was keeping quiet. lucas and will were quick to follow instructions and headed to the car. mike was right behind them.
lucas tried the back door (knowing mike got shotgun for the bandaids and possible concussion) but the handle only wiggled. “locked.”
“did he give one of you the keys?” asked will.
they all shook their heads. they didn’t have to wait long until steve was back with them at the car.
“why aren’t you guys in the car yet?”
“locked.” informed will.
“ohhhh. oops.” steve unlocked the car and helped max put her skate board in the trunk. when he hopped into the drivers side dustin and lucas were hounding him with questions.
“why are you here?”
“I thought we were walking home?”
“what the hell was that?”
“what did you do to noah and joey?”
“settle down and shut up, would you? nancy mentioned you guys were walking home so I came to grab you. you’d think that after everything they’d be a little more cautious. and also, language, henderson. I am so not taking the blame when you end up slipping in front of your mom.”
“awww you were worried steve.” max teased.
steve scoffed. “‘course I was, red. and it turned out I had every right to be. anybody wanna explain what that was?”
suddenly the car was quiet.
steve clicked his tongue.
“fine. guess you’re all coming to my house, huh?”
there was a sudden uproar in questions and “what the hell?”s.
“listen! i’m not letting any of you shits go home until I one; know for sure mike doesn’t have a concussion—“ steve eyed mike and he felt himself flinch. “—and two; before I get the whole story.”
there was a bunch of grumbling from the backseat, but mike himself stayed quiet throughout the rest of the ride.
“oh! and mike—“ mike looked at steve briefly and barely caught the box of tissues tossed at him. “—put that on the scrape for now, yeah? I’ll clean it properly when we get to the house.”
mike nodded and held a wad of tissues to his chin.
when they pulled up to the harrington house, everyone was inside quickly. everyone went to use the phone in the living room to call their parents and when mike went to follow he was grabbed gently on the shoulder.
“can you head to the kitchen and grab out the med-kit? I need to make sure they don’t drive my bill up.”
mike knew it was meant to be used as a distraction. but he’d take it. so he headed to the kitchen before realizing he didn’t know where the med-kit was. he rifled around in the cabinets for a bit before finding it stored away under the sink.
mike pulled it out and waited at the kitchen island. he noticed that it was a pretty heavy kit. and it seemed to be used a lot judging by the lack of dust and how it had a couple of bandages peeking from the crease.
everyone piled into the kitchen, book bags dumped in the living room and shoes discarded by the door. will sat on a stool next to mike and dustin and max hopped on the counter. lucas took a seat on the other side of mike.
“ooookay. ah! there it is.” steve opened the kit and grabbed out a brown bottle and a few cotton balls. mike noted how he seemed to know where everything in the med-kit was as if he used it on a daily. he filed the information away for later.
“what’s that supposed to be?” mike eyed the bottle with weariness.
“just peroxide. it’s meant to clean the cut. I know for a fact that that parking lot is fucking filthy and I’m not risking an infection due to gunk in the wound.”
steve put a cotton ball to the open top of the bottle and tipped the bottle over. “i’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt, cause it does sting a bit. but it also definitely helps in the long run.” steve held up the cotton ball as if in question.
mike nodded and looked up, giving steve more room to see the scrape. mike gripped will’s hand and hissed when the cotton ball first dabbed, but the pain soon subsided.
“now this part isn’t too fun either but it’s kind of needed. how attached to that shirt are you?”
mike looked down at that faded, off-white with blue stripes shirt he was wearing. “not very. why?”
“ok, good. this won’t ruin the shirt but you might have to change is all i’m saying. I need to pour the peroxide directly on the scrape to clean it out properly. “
(I know that hydrogen peroxide actually tends to damage tissue and delay healing but they didn’t really know that in the 80s so bare with me.)
mike shuddered at the thought. “I don’t have clothes to change into.”
“I have an extra shirt in my bag.” offered lucas. “I had gym today.” he clarified when he got off looks.
“that’d be perfect, thanks sinclair.”
lucas jumped up to get the shirt and came back in with a white t-shirt with red sleeves. he set it on the counter for afterwards. lucas wordlessly took mike’s hand that will wasn’t holding.
it wasn’t long before the scrape was clean and steve was putting away the kit. while everyone else ran into the living room to watch movies and raid steve’s snacks, mike took the shirt and went to the bathroom to change.
when he came back out (after looking at the funny bandage on his chin— because seriously, what kind 17 year old just had dinosaur bandaids in their med-kit?) mike was quick to join everyone in the living room before steve could pull him aside again.
honestly? fuck that guy.
(but when mike sat between will and max on the couch he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft steve was when taking care of the scrape. he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how old he was when he last felt that gentleness.
the answer was 7. mike was 7 when his mom deemed him old enough to deal with his own cuts and bruises.)
steve eventually held out on his promise of getting information. and after their first movie he forced them all onto the couches while he stood in front of them.
“so am I actually going to get an answer this time?” he stood with his hands on his hips and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. mike remembered this same stance from not even a year ago, when they were trying to talk him into going in the tunnels.
steve almost reminded mike of his mom for a moment. but mike doubted his mom would go this far if she ever found out about the bullying. (mike refused to admit that he liked the idea of steve fretting over them like this. the idea made him almost sick to his stomach.)
everyone refused to look at him. max looked dead ahead at the wall, lucas kept his eyes trained on the floor, will was messing with his jacket sleeves and dustin was paying extra attention to the ceiling.
mike chewed the inside of his cheek.
“what the hell do you wanna hear from us, steve?” he asked. “that we’re being bullied? that they picked a fight with us first? that we’re nerds and freaks and weirdos?”
will, dustin and lucas flinched with each insult. max refused to look at anything other than what mike assumed was the odd spot on the wall. mike saw steve’s left eye twitch— the one he was always getting punched in.
“that what they told you?”
mike scoffed. “that’s what everyone told us. we’re the school circus!” his voice raised at the end and will flinched violently next to him.
“mike..” dustin uttered from beside max.
“sorry.” he mumbled, finally letting his gaze drop from steve to the coffee table in front of them.
steve sighed quietly.
“noah tanner and joey murphy, right? they both have older siblings, noah an older brother and joey an older sister.”
that made head snap to him.
“what—“ lucas started.
“mitchel tanner and annie murphy are their names. mitch is on the swim team, annie on the cheer team. they’re both barely passing their classes and aren’t exactly the kindest either— in fact I watched mitch shove freshman into a door yesterday.” steve continued, his voice soft as if he was simply talking to himself.
dustin’s and lucas’ jaws were on the floor, max and will were looking at him as if he were insane.
“so— wait—“
“you know their older siblings?”
“what the hell does that have to do with anything?”
steve smirked. and mike was /scared/. he’d seen steve smirk before, when he was dating nancy, when he said something particularly bitchy.
but this. this smirk was plain /mean/.
“would be a real shame if.. I dunno, their coaches suddenly find out about the poor sophomores they make do their homework. or worse— principal higgins finds out. who are mitch and annie gonna blame then, huh?”
dustin sputtered, “you! they’d just blame you, wouldn’t they?”
steve shrugged. “sure. but then they’d know why I did it. their brothers fucking with my kids.”
he said it so calmly. as if it was just the plain truth. as if he wasn’t scared to admit it.
if this is how he’s treated, being of steve’s “kids”, then shit. he may not be all that mad after all.
steve pulled the towel off his shoulder and walked back into the kitchen, a call over his shoulder about ham and cheese sliders and chips for dinner.
but none of the kids were listening.
lucas turned dustin who turned to max who turned to mike who turned to will who looked back at all of them with the biggest grin mike’s ever seen on his face.
ok. so maybe mike gets the hype the steve harrington.
(and if the next week of school went by with no issues, with noah and joey looking at them in /fear/? well. mike had steve to thank.)
#stranger things#steve harrington#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#will byers#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#el hopper#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#bullying#steve protecting his kids 🙌#as he should#bitchy steve harrington#swim captain steve harrington using his status to scare assholes#steve harrington is scary#and mike admires him for it#(begrudgingly)#mike being forced out of his shell pls#mike and steve bonding time#kind of mike wheeler angst#mike is my sweetheart#and so is steve#mike wheeler appreciation#mike finally accepting that he’s one of steve’s kids
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DAY 23 — MUTUAL MASTURBATION
PAIRING: stepbrother!jay x fem!reader
GENRE: smut, stepcest, masturbation, fingering, pillow humping, dick licking, cum eating.
WARNINGS: smut
KINKTOBER 2023
everything started when you were young, you father had left and your mom was alone with you. even tho it was only both you, you complement each other perfectly. it had always been your mom and you, best friends.
until one they your mom feel in love with a wealthy man and decided to get marry. he had a son two years older than you, his mom died giving birth to him so it was only the two of them.
the day you meet your new stepbrother, Jay, you got along with him pretty well. both of you had a lot of things in common and liked to play soccer, so you adapted to him very well.
that was when you were eleven.
while growing up you realized that Jay was having a few changes in his body. his voice got deeper, he grew a few inches taller, and his features began to become more handsome.
while you, you grew a a little (really little) inches taller, your ass and breasts become bigger, and the worst part. you got your period.
when you were 14 you started to pay more attention to Jay, you knew that it wasn’t totally correctly. but there was something on him that was so attractive in your eyes.
maybe his sharp jaw, his beautiful eyes, his veiny hands with long fingers. you didn’t know why, but Jay was hot as fuck.
now you were 18, and your parents had go to a trip on the beach celebrating his 8th anniversary. and Jay, Jay was out with his friends.
you were on your bed, watching instagram reels trying to be less bore than you were. when suddenly, a video of two girls kissing on a bar appeared on your scream. you weren’t a lesbian, but you had to admit it. lesbian porn was the best.
you watched the video a few times, looking closely on how the girls were kissing and how their hands were traveling around their tits and thighs. you didn’t even notice when your own hand was traveling directly to your pussy, putting the pink panties aside.
one of your fingers traveled up and down your slit, collecting all you juices to finally make circles on your clit. you moaned softly, imagining jay’s fingers instead of yours. thinking that was so wrong, but it felt so good.
you got your pants and panties off, throwing them somewhere on your room. you took one of your favorites pillows to do this things, placing it between your things and moving your hips back and forth. one on your hands tilted up your shirt a little, exposing your pretty tits and pinching one of your hard nipples.
you couldn’t stop thinking about jay.
Jay, jay, jay, jay…
how would it feel to ride his cock, how would his mouth would feel around your nipples, on your pussy, how his long slender fingers would stretch you so deliciously, and obviously, how big his dick would look on your mouth.
“oh~ jay” you moaned. “i’m gonna cum”
you started to ride your pillow faster and faster. pinching your nipples with one hand while the other one was doing circles on your clit.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, jay” you gasped.
you were just about to cum, when suddenly…
“y/n, i’m he—” he said opening you door.
“holy shit! jay!” you screamed, trying to cover your exposed body with the sheets of your bed.
“why were you screaming my name!? i thought you knew i was home and that you were calling me” he said.
“i was thinking about y— I though you were already home, yes” you said, why wasn’t he leaving your room.
“and why are you naked?” he asked scanning you body.
“i just— i was…” you tried to justify yourself.
“wait. you were screaming my name, and i found you half naked, riding a pillow. were you touching yourself thinking about me?” he said with a smirk.
“what!?” you exclaimed. “no, no, i just—”
“yes you were” he said closing the door behind him and getting closer to you. “did you got the chance to cum? or did i interrupted on the best part?
“Jay, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you said.
“no, y/n. what the actual fuck is wrong with you? he said emphasizing the last words. “what a pervert stepsister do i have. do you thing this is the first time i hear you moaning my name?”
oh. shit.
jay was so close to your, his lips almost touching yours.
“do you need help to finish, pretty?” he said giving you a peck on your lips.
this was wrong, like, extremely wrong. but you were super horny, and you have wanted jay for so long.
“if you tell mom and dad i swear to god i will kill you” your told him, looking directly into his eyes.
“promise” he said.
jay got even more closer to you, getting off your body the sheets of your bed, leaving you completely exposed for him. he took one of his fingers s place it in your wet soaking pussy, sliding it up and down your slit.
he stayed like that for a few minutes, painfully teasing your pussy. you could see that you weren’t the only one getting excited, because the big erection you could see through his pants was almost begging for attention.
“take you pants off” you said breathless. “i want to make you feel good too”
jay took his pants down his ankles, leaving only his boxers that were taken off seconds later. you knew his cock was pretty, it was the perfect size and shape.
now, you were fully lying down in the bed. jay was kneel down right next to you, with his cock over your tits and one of his hand on your pussy.
You began to pull his cock slowly, feeling his entire length in your hand while he made pleasurable circles on your clit. Jay inserted his middle finger into your pussy, feeling your wet walls clench around his digit. Then he put another finger into your cunt, stretching it in an incredible way, opening and closing his fingers, moving them in a spectacular form. and you, you were pulling his cock harder and harder every time.
Moans couldn't stop coming out of your mouth, Jay was good with his fingers. His cock was so close to your mouth that all you wanted to do was lick it.
you could hear the little whimpers and moans coming from jay's mouth, they were music to your ears. Jay started moving his fingers faster than before, adding circular movements to your clit with his thumb. At this point, it wouldn't take long for you to cum very soon. But at the same time, you also wanted Jay to have his first orgasm with you, so you massage his tip to finally give him a lick all over his dick.
“fuck, do that again and i’m gonna cum” he said.
“cum on my face” you told him.
you licked his dick again and after a few more strokes him cummed all over your face and tits. you opened your mouth, tasting the white liquid that you always wanted to take.
and before you knew, you were also cumming hard on jay’ s hand. moaning his name and finally getting some released. jay took his fingers out of your pussy and put them into his mouth, licking them in a sensual ways, tasting your juices.
“thanks god mom and dad won’t be around for a while” he said with a smirk.
#enhypen jay#jay#enhypen#enha imagines#enhypen smut#park jongseong#park jay#jay smut#kpop smut#smut#kinktober#enha x reader#jay x reader
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Bad Medicine | Chapter 14
previous part | masterlist | next part
synopsis: The wedding between the Seresin mafia and the Santiago mafia has finally arrived. But what's a wedding without a little drama?
word count: 6.2k
warnings: PTSD, trauma, mentions of scars, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, torture, graphic character death, shootings, guns, blood, revenge plot, illusion of suicide, death.
“Rise and shine, cupcake!”
The dark room was infiltrated with light as the middle Santiago brother ripped the curtains open. Y/N let out a groan as the morning sun hit her directly in the face. Narciso didn’t seem to pay any mind to his sister as he opened the large bay window, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. Y/N turned her face away from the window, finding the spot next to her empty. She frowned and pushed herself up on her elbow finding a note addressed to her and a singular red rose on the bedside.
“Y/N!” Narciso clapped his hands, getting his sister’s attention.
“Sorry,” She said and looked over at him, “Actually, I’m not. What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m your maid of honor, for lack of a better word.” He smiled brightly.
“Who said that?”
“Me,” Narciso said, and walked over to her, and flung the rest of the blankets off of her, “I know you would much rather it be Mom and Sophie helping you, but I guess I’m third best. Besides, have you seen the way the other two dress. . . they need more help than us today, sis.”
“Thank you,” Y/N smiled and hugged her older brother.
“Any time,” Narcisosaid, wrapping an arm around her and squeezing gently, “Please have this be the last wedding though. I’m not sure if Dad’s pockets can afford another one.”
“I thought it was known that we marry for money in this family?” Y/N joked.
Narciso rolled his eyes, and helped her up from her bed. He led her down the hall towards Bob’s room, which was now turned into a makeshift glam room. Narciso had various stylists walking around the room setting up their makeup and hair stations. Y/N beamed brightly at her brother, as a woman came up and grabbed her hand, softly pulling her over to get working on her hair. Narciso smiled to himself and leaned against the door, watching his sister smile. It had been a long time since he had seen a genuine smile on her face.
— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —
Jake stood in the middle of the backyard as wedding planners were finishing their final touches on the altar and the rows of white chairs. At first, Jake thought that 200 chairs that were in a curved half circle was a bit extreme, but then he saw the final guest list, and suddenly worried if they had enough chairs. Everyone was coming to see the wedding of one of the most notorious mobsters in California. It was hard to believe that Jake Seresin, the ‘Hangman’, was getting married to the Don of Italy’s daughter.
And not just any Don of Italy’s daughter, Rafael Santiago’s daughter. The wild card. The damaged rose. Everyone thought after what had happened with Francisco, that the Don would’ve hid his daughter away. ‘Sent her to Rome to be a nun’ was the rumor that had floated around for several months until someone spotted her in that strip club back in New York. But now the rumor was that the Santiago girl had settled down, and was ready to be a wife.
“Care to tell me why I just found a book full of naughty pictures of my sister?” Gianni asked, shoving something against Jake’s chest. The blonde grunted and looked down at the scrapbook in his hands, “She told me to give this to you, didn’t say what it was, and now, I feel like I need to go stab my own eyes out.”
Jake chuckled and tucked the book under his arm, “Don’t you know not to open things that don’t belong to you?”
“Shut up, Seresin,” Gianni shoved him as he walked into the house, still grumbling about the photo album in Jake’s hands.
Jake looked around the backyard, taking in the smiles on everyone’s faces. There was a buzz in the air, the scent of excitement. The wedding wasn’t supposed to start for another four hours, but Jake felt ready to jump out of his skin. He had been woken up early this morning by Emile, and ushered down to his room at the opposite end of the house. Jake looked over his shoulder at the balcony, white curtains covered the french doors so he couldn’t see his bride inside.
Despite everyone's smiles, there was only one person who didn’t seem to have a joyous expression on their face. Jake had noticed that Bradley had an uneasy look on his face and had avoided looking him in the eye all morning. The mustached man was now wandering around from place to place, trying to find something to keep him busy. Bradley hated not having something to do, he was never the type to just and wait.
“Emile,” Jake called over to his maid, “Can you take this to my room? And tell the future missus thank you for the gift.” Emile nodded and took the book from him. Jake stuffed his hands into his pocket and walked over to Bradley, who was fiddling with a white bow on the back of one of the chairs, “Do you even know what you are doing?”
Bradley didn’t look up, but stopped his messing with the bow, “I think-”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I have not-”
“Bradley,” Jake said sincerely.
Bradley sighed and looked up at the man he considered to be a brother, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Jake asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Bradley stood up from his crouching position and scratched the back of his neck. It is hard to describe Bradley as being small, but as he stood in front of Jake, avoiding his green eyes, Bradley did in fact look “small”. Jake could see a little boy who looked like he had just gotten caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.
“I. . . I thought maybe if I stay away from this one, I won’t mess it up.” Bradley mumbled, “I seem to be the angel of death,” Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’m sorry for what I-”
“What happened with Natasha was not your fault,” Jake said, “You can’t help who you love.” Bradley looked up at his friend, “One of the things I will regret until my dying breath, was letting you believe that you are a monster, a killer.”
It had been one of the darkest times in Bradley’s life after betraying not only Jake, but the family that gave him so much when he had lost his own. Bradley hated that he had been so naive and had fallen in line right where Natasha wanted him. He knew that Jake could’ve killed him right then and there, laying his body out in cold blood like Natasha’s. However, Jake decided to show Bradley mercy. And every day Bradley felt like he had to figure out how to repay him somehow.
“I was already a monster,” Bradley looked at his hands. His hands were rough and calloused from years of working with his hands, “I don’t think I’ll ever get my happily ever after. No one can love the fucked up monster. I had that and-and I lost it.”
“Someone out there will,” Jake answered. He put his hand under Bradley’s chin and lifted it up, “I never blamed you for what happened. I just want you to forgive me, Bradley.”
“I forgave you years ago,” Bradley admitted, “I’m glad you found Y/N. . . or she found us, I guess. It’s been nice to have someone to take care of us. She. . . she reminds me of my mom, in a way.”
Jake smiled and hugged Bradley. Bradley sighed and melted into the hug, not realizing how much he needed the physical reassurance from the mafia leader. He had spent years watching his every move, careful of what Jake was doing. He always felt like there was a target on his back for a mistake he had made when he was young and stupid. But to have Jake tell him that he forgave him, felt like cinder blocks lifted off his shoulders.
Rooster pulled back from the hug, “I gotta get going. I want to stop by the hospital before this thing kicks off.”
“Hospital?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. . . check on Sophie,” A blush filled Bradley’s cheeks and Jake gave a singular nod.
“Check on her, huh?” A small smirk graced Jake’s lips and Bradley playfully shoved the man, “Alright, alright, give an update to Y/N please. I know she’s worried about Sophie.”
“I will,” Rooster nodded, and turned to walk in the house.
“Oh! And send my brother to me.” Rooster gave Jake a thumbs up before disappearing into the labyrinth that is the Seresin Mansion.
Jake took one last glance around the backyard before looking up at the balcony. He smiled seeing his wife standing in the doorway, looking out at the rose garden. She was wearing a white silk robe and her hair had been pinned back into an updo. She held a glass of champagne in her hands, her face was still makeup free. Jake loved when her face was bare, not hiding her scars from him. He looked at her face, memorizing every single line that adorned it.
Feeling his stare, Y/N looked from the sparkling white roses to her fiance. She gave him a soft smile and a small wave. He mouthed to her ‘I Love You’, and held his hand on his heart. Y/N nodded and whispered back the same three words. She then sent him a wink, as she turned around, untying her robe, and letting it cascade to the ground. Jake bit back a smirk, as he watched her naked body disappear into their room and the doors to the balcony shut.
“Some things will never change,” He mumbled to himself, fixing his dress pants. Jake looked over the backyard, looking at the altar, that in just a few moments he’d be standing under, holding hands with his wife. Jake smiled to himself, as he shook his head and looked down at his shoes. He couldn’t wait until he heard the words, ‘You may now kiss your wife’.
— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —
Y/N’s hands were shaking as she sat at her vanity, looking at herself in the mirror. She had been here before. It was giving her deja vu, sitting looking at herself in nothing but a strapless white lace bra, matching panties, her hair done and pinned back, and makeup done to the nines. Her scars had been covered, as if the past trauma had never happened to her. She could almost believe that her face was without any scarring, but she could still see some remnants of the angry skin left behind.
A knock at the door and a voice called out to her, snapping her from her warring thoughts, “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, Gio,” Y/N said, clearing her throat and reaching for her robe. She slipped it on her shoulders as Gianni walked through the door, a smile on his face.
“How are you doing?” He asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.
“Want me to be honest?” She asked and he nodded, “I’m terrified,” Y/N looked up at her brother, tears threatening to spill from her eyes, “I just. . . I keep pinching myself, seeing if this is real. If I really am about to marry a man that I love, or if this is some sick joke.”
Gianni stood up from the bed and walked to her. He gently lifted her chin with his finger, “This is real. Nothing, and I mean, nothing, is going to hurt you.” Y/N nodded and Gianni’s face softened, “I will never forgive myself for not killing Francisco when I had a chance. I never-”
“It was on me,” Y/N said and dabbed under her eye, “I begged you to show him mercy. I thought that he would get the hint after what you did to him, but he’s a sick man.”
“And he’s a dead man, when we find him,” Gianni pulled her into a tight hug, “He will never, ever, hurt you again. You have my word.”
“Thank you, Gianni,” Y/N said, and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Another knock on the door separated the siblings. Y/N froze for a moment, hoping it wasn’t her soon to be husband trying to steal another look, “Who is it?”
“Bob,” A smile graced her face and Gianni nodded, turning and heading out the door. He patted Bob on the back, going down the hall to try and find Jake, and hopefully smoke a cigar with him before the wedding kicked off.
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and nodded for Bob to come into her room. The blue eyed man quietly shut her bedroom door and walked right to her, not hesitating to give her a tight hug. Y/N let out a small sound, as he squeezed her. Out of all of the boys, Bob had been the only one who hadn’t touched her yet. She let out a sigh and settled into the hug, running her hand up and down his back.
“Thank you,” Bob mumbled.
“For what?” Y/N asked.
Bob pulled away, and she noticed he wasn’t wearing his glasses. She gently touched his cheek, running her thumb over the apple of his skin. He looked strikingly handsome with his ocean blue eyes. Y/N swore that she could even see what looked like waves in his eyes. The more that she looked at him, the more that she could see the similarities between him and Jake. They had the same blonde hair, and striking colored eyes. They also had the same half smile whenever they were trying to hide their blush.
“For giving me my brother back,” Bob said, “We used to be really close, when we were younger but. . . we grew apart after everything happened. And I am sorry he was so horrible to you when you first got here. I make no excuses for him, and I know he will spend the rest of his life apologizing to you for what he did. . . but he’s just been through so much. The both of you had. I think that’s what makes you two so perfect for each other.”
Y/N grabbed his hand, and squeezed it, “Thank you, Bob,” her voice cracked as she felt hot tears well up in her eyes.
“No! Don’t cry, Narciso will kill me,” Bob said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out kleenex, “I’m sorry for making you cry.”
“You didn’t,” Y/N said, “I always wanted to feel love like this. To be in a family who truly loves each other. You all might not have the perfect relationship, there might be buried skeletons and ghosts, but at the end of the day, you all love each other. And now, I finally get to experience that too.”
“You’ve always had that, Y/N. Might not have been displayed for the whole world to see, but it’s always been there,” Bob assured her.
“Excuse me, Mr. Floyd,” Emile said, knocking on the door, holding the white dress in her hand, “We need to get her dressed.” Bob smiled brightly, looking at Y/N. He kissed her cheek, whispering ‘good luck’ before walking out the door.
— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —
Jake was finishing up the final touches on his tux, when he heard a soft knock on the door, followed by his younger brother stepping into the room. He smiled at his brother and took a step back from the mirror and embraced him in a hug.
“She looks beautiful,” Bob said.
Jake pulled away from the hug. His smile was so bright he bet that he could power a whole dark city, “You saw her?”
Bob nodded, and put his hands into his pockets, “Yeah, stopped by her room on the way here. What did you want to see me for?”
Jake sucked in a breath and fiddled with his hands, “I want to apologize to you, for what I did, taking you away from MIT and forcing you into this family.”
“Oh, I forgave you for that a long while ago. I knew it was inevitable,” Bob shrugged.
“I still had no right to do that to you,” Jake said, “You were the one that had a chance at living a normal life, and I ruined that for you.”
Bob smiled shyly, looking down at his black dress shoes. Bob had constant dreams about living that kind of life, except they all ended the same way, with Jake showing up and tearing him away. Jake read his face and put the final touches on his tie, before stepping behind him, so Bob was standing directly in front of the full-length mirror. Jake’s hands went to his shirt and smoothed out the wrinkles and adjusted the tie.
“You know, out of the four of us, I always thought it was gonna be your wedding we go to first. You were the one who was gonna live that white picket fence life. Kids running around the front yard, and an apple pie on the kitchen table. Dad kinda set you up for all that,” Jake smiled.
“You know I won’t ever have that. . .” Bob sighed. Jake watched as his brother’s face fell, knowing exactly what he was talking about. It took Jake, his parents, and even Rooster to get Bob to stop searching for his lover. Bob had taken an unhealthy obsession with trying to find a ghost. He took a step away from Jake and walked towards the door, “She’s just gone, Jake, like she never even existed.”
“If there is anyone on this earth who can find her, it’s you, Bob,” Jake said truthfully.
“I’ve never stopped looking for her. But she’s just. . . gone, like a ghost.”
Jake chuckled and shoved his hands into his pockets, “No one just disappears Bobby, have you ever thought that you're over focussing, broaden your mind, you'll find her. Or maybe she'll find you.”
Bob nodded to himself and walked out of the bedroom door, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts. Jake sighed and sat down on his bed, looking around the room. It was pretty much bare now, all his belongings having been moved into the master bedroom with Y/N. He leaned over towards his bedside table, seeing an envelope addressed to him. He smiled as he picked it up and opened it.
“To my true soul,”
— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —
Her breath was in her throat. Everyone was waiting for her, the isles were lined with flowers, the bows on the backs of the chairs had been tied to perfection. The boys had already taken their spots at the altar, each of them wearing black tuxes with white button ups. Jake was the only one wearing an all black suit, as he bounced on the balls of his feet, trying to settle the nerves in his body. Javy couldn’t help but grab his friend's shoulders, shaking them, as a goofy smile spread on his face.
Y/N looked at herself in the mirror one last time, fixing up some flyaways in her hair. Her dress fit her perfectly, the lace laying on her smooth skin. Her hands were shaky as Emile handed her her flower bouquet. Emile quickly moved around her, fixing some things with her dress and veil. Y/N glanced at the doors in front of her, which were shut and a curtain drawn over them so no one could see her on the other side. Her heart pounded, knowing that right on the other side was her soon to be husband.
“You look perfect,” She said, fixing the veil on her shoulders, “He’s a lucky man.”
“I think I am the lucky one,” Y/N answered, as she took in a deep breath.
Emile smiled, “I always knew that you two would fall in love. Mr. Jacob is rough around the edges when you first meet, but he melts your heart. He melted mine, that’s for sure. Been taking care of all four of them since they were in trainers.”
“Thank you, Emile,” Y/N said genuinely. Emile nodded and kissed her forehead, as the door opened and her father walked in. Emile excused herself as the Don stepped over to his daughter, “Papa,”
“Y/N,” The Don responded. He held his hand out to her and she gently placed her hand in his. His hands were rough from years of working with his hands, but they were always warm and gave Y/N a sense of security, just like when she held his hand as a child, “You look perfect. A spitting image of your mother.”
“I wish she could be here,” Y/N spoke, tears filling her eyes.
“Oh, tesoro,” Rafael said, wiping her tears softly, “Don’t cry. She’s here, in your heart. She always has been.” Y/N nodded, and gripped her father’s arm tightly, “You ready?”
“Yeah,” She smiled, “Just don’t. . . don’t let me fall.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” The Don spoke. He nodded to the guards in front of him to open the doors that led to the garden.
Everyone’s eyes turned and looked at her. Everyone stood up as the pianist started playing the notes to ‘Turning Page’, the song Bob had picked out for them. Her steps faltered for a second, taking in the sight of all the eyes on her, and she squeezed Rafael’s arm. He patted her hand gently, reassuring her that he wasn’t going to fail her, not this time. She looked up at her dad, and Rafael felt a moment of deja vu. She was suddenly the five year old girl going to her first day of school, scared to go run with the other children, and searching for the okay to go.
“I’ve got you,” Rafael whispered to her, and Y/N nodded, the anxiety melting away. Y/N took a deep breath and looked back down the aisle at her Jake, who’s eyes were blurry with tears.
Jake’s eyes found hers in an instant, looking at her. No one else mattered but her, she was the only person Jake could see. Jake couldn’t help the tears that formed in his eyes as Y/N walked down the aisle towards him. Any anxiety he had about this moment melted away when she smiled at him. Javy gently nudged Jake and smiled at him. Bob had only seen this look in Jake’s eyes once before, and he was worried he’d never see that again. Bob was thanking the stars above that Jake had found his forever. The aisle seemed endlessly long as Y/N had finally made her way to Jake. Jake took a step down off the altar to take her from her father.
“Jacob,” Rafael whispered, “Take good care of my daughter.”
“I will protect her with my life,” Jake whispered back. The Don smiled and placed a kiss on Jake’s cheek. He turned to his daughter and placed a kiss on her cheek, before going to join his boys in the front row. Jake moved the veil from Y/N’s face and smiled at her.
“Hi,” She said softly.
“Hey,” He whispered back. He took her hand, and gently led her up the steps to stand in front of the priest. She passed her bouquet back to Narciso, and then grabbed both of Jake’s hands. He squeezed them gently, before turning his head towards the Priest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you may be seated,” The Priest said, “We are gathered here today to witness the holy union between Y/N Santiago and Jacob Seresin. The love that has been granted upon them is obvious, as it surrounds not only them but all of us as well. If there is anyone who objects to these two being joined in the face of the Lord and become one within one another, please speak now, or forever hold your peace.”
Jake looked at Y/N and smiled, as they heard silence from the crowd. He grabbed her hand in his, running his thumb over the back of her hand. He opened his mouth to whisper something to her, when someone from the back of the crowd stood up and yelled:
“I object!”
Jake’s head snapped towards the sound, his jaw dropping slightly, “Natasha?”
Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as she looked at the woman that had haunted her husband’s dreams. Y/N went to take a step forward when a loud gun shot rang out. Jake quickly grabbed her hand to pull her back to him as screams filled the crowd, but Y/N was frozen in place as she looked down at the growing red spot seeping through her white dress.
“Y/N. . .” Jake whimpered out, as he helped her down to the ground before she could collapse.
The single shot was followed by rapid gunfire, as screams and cries filled the air, people immediately running for the quickest cover they could find. Jake looked up to where Natasha was standing, watching her make her way towards him. He felt sick as he looked down at his wife, his hands going to her midsection, standing them with crimson. When he looked back up, Natasha was gone.
Rafael tried to push through the guards, but they pushed the mafia leader away, trying to get him to safety. He tried his best to fight against them, but he was no match against Paulo and Narciso’s strength as they pushed him towards the house. Rooster and Gianni grabbed the guns from their waist bands and took off, looking for the source of the gunfire.
“Jake,” Her small voice drew Jake’s attention back to her. He sucked in a breath as the color was gone from her face. Jake looked back up briefly, seeing Natasha standing in front of him, a sick smirk on her face. He blinked a couple times, and again, she was gone. The sound of coughing made Jake look back down at his bride, watching as pink froth left her lips. He adjusted her in his arms, helping her sit up a bit. He knew that gunshot wounds to the stomach were an awful way to die. Slowly, your body positioned itself as the toxins from your intestines leaked into your blood.
What the fuck, Jacob, he thought, shaking his head again, “Help me!” Jake yelled out to anyone who was near.
“J-Jake,” Y/N stuttered out, her hands going on top of his as a way to add more pressure to the growing wound. Her body felt searing hot, as she tried to push herself up. Her mind was clouded over with the pain, that nothing made sense. Who could have done this? Why would someone want to hurt us like this?
“I don’t want to die, Jake.”
Bob and Javy ran in towards the house, both their guns drawn as they frantically looked around. Bob spotted him first, pointing out the man dressed in all black, running towards the front gate. Both the men went running after him, firing their weapons, trying to hit him. Bob was fast, his long legs carrying him towards the perpetrator quickly. He tackled them to the ground, both of them falling with a grunt. Bob took the blunt end of his gun and struck him in the face, making the man grunt.
“Cease fire!” Bob yelled, “I got him! I got him!”
The gunfire ceased as Rooster and Gianni both ran in the house towards Bob, to help him gather whoever was the cause of this. Rooster helped Bob stand the perpetrator to his feet, taking his belt and using it as makeshift handcuffs until they could get him into the chamber. Gianni saw nothing but red, as soon as he laid eyes on the perpetrator’s face. Gianni took his fist and struck him in the jaw, making the perp sag a bit in Rooster and Bob’s hold.
“Fuck!” He grunted, “Nice to see you too, Gianni.”
“You’re going to fucking burn, Francisco,”
“Promise?” Francisco smirked.
“Get him to the fucking chamber,” Javy demanded.
The backyard was silent as the smoke and dust cleared, leaving behind debris in its wake of tipped over chairs, articles of clothing, broken flower vases and bullet shells. Jake slowly rocked Y/N back and forth, holding her close. His hands did the best they could to stop the blood from escaping from her body. Usually the sight of blood didn’t bother him, but there was something about seeing the dark red stain, the perfect white of her dress, that made him sick.
“J-Jake. . .” Y/N called out to him. Jake laced their fingers together, the blood making their fingers stick together, “I-I don’t want-“
“Shh baby, shh,” Jake cried, wiping the tears from her face, “Help me! Somebody! Help!” She groaned in pain as Jake jolted her slightly. Jake quit moving and kissed her forehead, “It’ll be okay. I promise.” Y/N nodded weakly as Jake held her, “Help!”
“I-it h-hurts.”
Jake looked down at her, taking in the sight of her. He knew there was nothing anyone could do, and he knew that she knew it too. He held her close and rocked her gently. Her usual tan skin was now pale. The midsection of her dress was almost completely red. Jake hated it.
“I’m right here, okay. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”
Her mind was in a limbo of wanting to accept death, accept what was going to happen to her or to fight against it to live. This couldn’t be her ending. Not now, not that she had made amends with those who hurt her. Not when she just found her true love, her true happiness. She had faced death before, and welcomed it before. But now, seeping into that black abyss was terrifying. Going into an undiscovered place, alone, was worse than bleeding out in her lover’s arms.
“I’m scared, Jake. . . I don’t want to die yet,” She sobbed out, her eyes locked on the sky above her. Jake had made a promise to her to never let her be scared again, not while his heart was still beating in his chest.
“Don’t be, it’ll be okay, baby, it’ll all be okay,” Jake said softly, “You go, okay. Don’t be scared, I’ll be right there.”
Y/N nodded, her body growing weaker and weaker. It was like the pull of a tide, pulling her further and further into a deep abyss. Jake watched her features, watched as her chest rose and fell, and froze. Her eyes, the usual honey brown, grew cold and her face froze in a forever look of fear. Jake looked up at the sky, letting his tears fall, and soft sobs left his pink lips. He looked down at the girl in his arms, and brought a shaky hand to her face to close her eyes.
“I love you. . . I love you,” Jake said and kissed her cheek. He looked around the whole backyard before bringing her body into his and letting out a loud scream of agony. Javy, Bob and Rooster watched from inside the house as Jake let out his emotions. Bob couldn’t help but shed tears at the anguishing sounds leaving Jake’s lips. They had never seen him like this, not even after Natasha.
Paulo and Narciso had to physically hold their father up from crashing to the ground. Rafael let out a loud sob, as he watched his only daughter’s life leave her body. Gianni clenched his jaw, looking from the scene, down to his shoes. Gianni was known as The Santiago with no emotion, but he couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes. He had devoted much of his adult life to protecting his baby sister, and now he watched as he had failed her yet again. He wiped his tears quickly and turned on his heel walking towards the chamber that had taken Francisco.
“Stop him,” Rafael said, fearing for what his son was going to do.
Paulo shook his head, “He’ll be fine. He needs this.”
Jake gently laid Y/N’s body on the ground and placed her hands on her belly, trying to cover the bullet wound the best he could. He grabbed the discarded bouquet from earlier, placed it in her hands and kissed her before standing up and marching into the house. The three other boys moved out of his way as he walked straight into the chamber. The other boys shared a look before following Jake down to the chamber.
Gianni was already beating up Francisco when Jake got down there, the man was chained up by his wrists, as Gianni delivered blow after blow to his face. Francisco looked up at Gianni, as he held him by the back of his head, his brass knuckles shining with blood already.
“I didn’t know you were capable of emotions,” Francisco smiled, as Gianni reeled his fist back and delivered another punch.
“Enough,” Jake said as he walked in. Gianni nodded, dropping Francisco’s head and stepping away from the battered man.
“Got what you wanted? A good wedding?” Francisco asked with a smirk. Jake didn’t say anything as he growled, walked over to Francisco, grabbing him by the throat. Jake could feel the crush of his hyoid bone under his hand. Francisco’s neck and face turned red as his air supply was slowly being cut off.
“You’re fucking sick. Thinking you can get away with shit you’ve done. Killing my wife.” Jake said through a clenched jaw.
“If I'm sick, what does that make you? You’re not some fucking saint. You hurt her too. Difference is I taught her a lesson. I’m a sinner with a reason.”
Jake pressed down harder on his neck again, “We’re both going to hell. But I’m going to fucking kill you, and it’s going to be so fucking euphoric to watch you die slowly.”
“Give it to me. Kill me! SHOW ME WHO THE FUCK HANGMAN REALLY IS!!” Francisco yelled.
Jake stepped back, and raised his gun and pointed it in between Francisco’s eyes. He cocked it, and then closed his eyes. Images of the early morning he had shared with Y/N filled his mind. Jake closed his eyes, soaking in the vision of her. Her smile as he got down on one knee and finally proposed to her. Her soft voice as she sang to him. And her heartbeat, pumping in her chest, letting the blood flow throughout her body. Now she laid on the concrete, her blood shed and her body cold.
Jake opened his eyes, letting the tears run down his face. He lowered his gun and handed it to Bob, who stood behind him. Bob looked at him confused as Jake took a step towards Francisco.
“The reaper had mercy,” Jake whispered, placing a kiss on Francisco’s cheek.
The men all looked at Jake, unsure of what the mafia leader was doing. Not once had they ever seen Jake back down from killing someone, especially someone who had hurt him like this. Jake walked over to his brothers, and hugged them each starting with Bob.
“You’ll find her, I know you will,” Jake said to him. He then hugged Javy, “Take care of them when they hear, you’ve always liked you more than me.” He spoke in his best friend's ear.
When Jake got to Rooster, he held him tightly in his arms. Jake whispered in his ear, and Rooster’s eyes widened. He went to pull back from the hug, but Jake placed his hand on his head, keeping him still until he was done talking. Rooster bit his lip, trying to suppress the sob building in his throat. Jake placed a kiss on his cheek as he pulled away from the hug.
Jake didn’t say anything else to them but just nodded, before ascending up the stairs.
“What a fucking puss-”
The shot that rang out caused Francisco’s head to knock back and then forward, showering brain matter and blood along the walls. Rooster lowered his gun and handed it to Javy, feeling disgusted by what he just did. Rooster instructed the guards to clean the mess up and place Francisco in a shallow grave.
“Wait,” Gianni said, holding his hand up. He drew the knife from his pocket and walked over to Francisco’s dead body. He leaned his head back, and flicked open the pocket knife. Gianni clenched his jaw as he carved a jagged scar down the dead man’s face, “I hope you rot in hell,” Gianni released Francisco’s head, watching the blood drip from the cut. He took a step back and spit on his corpse. They watched as Gianni walked up the stairs, exiting the chamber to go be with his family.
The three Seresin family members stood in silence, listening to the blood drop from the dead body. Javy looked around at Bob, who’s eyes were trained on the stairs Jake had just walked up.
“What do we do now?” Javy asked. Bob opened his mouth to speak when another gunshot went off. He jumped and let out a soft gasp, as he licked his lips and bowed his head. The realization washed over him that he was now head of the family.
“We drink.”
Fin.
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note: does it make you feel better if I say that there will be an epilogue AND a sequel??? no??? okay. . .
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Learn How To Bend
Sequel to Gus Knows Shawn Knows That He's Telling The Truth (<<< That's a link)
Shawn strolls into the SBPD, Gus at his side as usual, and Jules barely glances his way- until something catches her eye. She does a double-take, eyes widening further when she realizes that yes, she’s seeing what she thought.
“Shawn?” Jules passes the finished paperwork to the desk clerk and power-walks to catch up with the duo. “Is that a crystal necklace?”
“What, this old thing?” Shawn looks down and fiddles with it for a second. “I’m trying out some new methods of psychic enrichment, Jules,” he says, squinting and looking off to the side- why, Jules has no idea.
“Shawn received a vision from the spirit of another psychic,” Gus adds on. “They showed him some ways to, hone his abilities.”
“That’s amazing.” Jules grins. “How’s it working out so far?”
“Oh, I dunno, really.” Shawn shrugs casually, and then leans to the side and calls out, “Lassie! How’d that 2 AM fishing trip with your mom go?”
There’s the sound of a gun being dropped, and Shawn sucks in a disapproving breath as Gus whistles in shame just hearing the flurry of curses from Lassiter’s desk. The head detective storms over to them, and Shawn’s hand flies to his temple before Lassie can get a word out of his beet-red, steam-spewing face.
“Ooh, scratch that, you had to cancel because your mom…” Shawn screws his face up, tugging on his necklace. “... got the flu. Oh, that’s a shame, Lassie, that really is. Hey, orange juice and chicken soup, right?”
“Spencer, I swear to Sweet Lady Justice that if you’ve been trailing my mother-”
“Not me, Lassie,” Shawn swears, putting his hand over his chest. “The spirits! They told me you’re trying to repair the relationship between you two, it’s-it’s very touching.”
Lassiter is still so livid it’s almost comical when Chief Vick steps out of her office, one foot in and one foot out, and snaps to get their attention. All four quickly take their places in the office, Lassiter keeping a wider distance from Shawn than usual.
Chief Vick looks up and opens her mouth- but Shawn is already shutting the door and closing the shutters. She casts a somewhat surprised look at Jules, who mouths ‘Crystal’ and makes a gesture over her own chest where the necklace falls on Shawn’s. He turns around with a smug grin and slides into his usual seat.
“Good instinct, Mr. Spencer,” Chief Vick says, looking down at her desk and clearing away her visible surprise. “This information I’m about to share cannot leave this office, understood?”
“Of course, Chief. But if we were going to have a sleepover I wish you’d have said so before- we would’ve brought Dippin’ Dots.”
“Dippin’ Dots?”
“They make Ice Cream a novelty, Jules.”
“Mr. Spencer, if you had a vision knowing how important this case is and you are still holding this briefing up, I’m going to seriously reconsider hiring you on it.”
Shawn pretends to zip his mouth shut and toss away a key, which Gus catches and tucks into his pocket before smoothly transitioning the movement into a fistbump.
Chief Vick huffs, not without a slight smile, and looks back at her papers. “This case is coming to us directly from The Mayor’s wife, and unfortunately for the department it’s the kind of case that the press will be all, over.”
She begins to go over the specific details, and try as she might to pay attention Jules can’t help but be distracted by Shawn and Gus as Gus pulls out a notepad with a list of words and checks them off with an audible sccrtch! of the pen for each mark.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus looks over at Shawn as The Blueberry cruises back to the Psych office. “So? Was Lassie’s reaction everything you wanted?”
Shawn chuckles and nods. “He looked like a Looney Tunes character.”
“No kidding. Was all of that a vision?”
“Course not, Gus. I’m not that psychic. … Yet. The fishing trip has been in his planner since last week, which happened to fall into my hand when he stepped away for coffee. The canceling was the vision.”
“How vivid?”
“Just him holding his phone and the sound of sneezing over speakers. Not hard to piece together what it meant.”
“I still can’t believe you’re getting real visions now.”
“You can’t believe it? Dude, the other day I got one about my dad dropping by the office for a surprise visit and totally avoided it!”
“These visions sound way more specific than we thought they’d be.”
“Nah, not really. The visions are… broad, big, like that dog your elderly neighbor used to have.”
“She actually got him on a diet, he’s way healthier now.”
“Really? Well, good for him! I always liked that pup. Anyway, the visions are way too big to give me anything useful on their own. I had to run the one of my dad through my head like, a million times before I figured out the day, time, and reason. The clocks were all wrong in the office, but I caught sight of the popcorn guy with the caramel options outside the window, and he only passes by our office between 2 and 4 PM on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Then I noticed the milk in the trash, and it didn’t expire until Wednesday, and you have a weird thing about expiration dates.”
“It’s not weird to take my food safety seriously, Shawn.”
“Come on, dude, throwing it out one day after expiration? At least sniff it first.”
“Get your own milk if you don’t like how I handle mine.”
“Stop drinking milk while lactose intolerant and then blaming it on ‘it’s spoiled’ when you get the stomach flip-flops.”
“I take lactose processing pills, Shawn, fine milk doesn’t bother me!”
“Agree to disagree.”
“Tsk! Just finish up how you knew what your dad wanted!”
“Easy, he had the newspaper tucked up under his arm. He only comes by with that when we’ve done something that gets in the papers and he wants to yell at me for it. Recently? That’s gotta be the thing miller who used those novelty socks.”
“The one you decided to lure out by sending in a letter to the editor that spewed hate about the socks?”
“Bingo. It was going to be another ‘stop taunting killers’ lecture, I’m sure of it. Just sick of those.”
“Gee, I wonder why he keeps coming around to give them.”
“Because he hates dramatic, poetic justice?”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Whoa, whoa.” Shawn raises his hand to his head as something flashes into his mind.
From an angle down by the floor, he’s looking up at his dad cleaning a fresh catch. Suddenly his dad pauses, and then smiles to himself and lets out his ‘now-isn’t-this-something’ chuckle. He pulls it out of the fish’s guts and sets it to the side.
Shawn blinks and lowers his hand. Gus looks at him expectantly, and then gestures for Shawn to hurry up and speak already.
“Gotta run that one again,” Shawn says. He puts both hands to his temples now and closes his eyes.
He focuses closer, but he’s just not at the right angle to see the object. His focus trails around, and then a reflection in the porch window lights up. The vision zooms in on it, and Shawn makes out one of his dad’s lucky fishing charms. His vision trails around a bit more, trying to pick out details on Time. His focus lands on the TV, playing a show that broadcasts at exactly the present.
He smirks and opens his eyes. “Gus, I totally know how to show it off to my dad now.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Shawn! Wasn’t expecting you by today.” Henry is only just pulling the fish off the grill. “But since you’re here, I think we need to have a chat about that-”
“Ah, not today, Pops.” Gus hands back, hiding behind a tree (poorly) as Shawn jogs into his dad’s yard. “I actually came by to congratulate you.”
“Congratulate me.” It’s not a question, and Henry hits him with the ‘What bullshit are you pulling now?’ look.
“On finding your lost lucky charm,” Shawn says, looking over the table. “Take it in to clean already?”
Henry crosses his arms. “Lost charm?”
Shawn looks at him, leaning forward a bit and mouth slightly parted in his most authentic gentle confusion. “Yeah. The one you found inside the fish?”
Henry’s frown gets deeper. “What, did you put cameras in my yard, kid?” He’s half-serious about the jab.
“No.” Shawn puts his hands in his pockets, leaving his thumbs out, and shrugs. “Just had a uh, hah! A feeling about it.”
Henry’s frown becomes an outright scowl. “A feeling.”
“Clear as day,” Shawn affirms, keeping a straight face. “Or, strong as… day? No, that doesn’t make any sense. Help me out here Pops, what’s a good metaphor for a strong feeling that’s so right it’s scary?”
“... Lucky guesses, Shawn.” Henry points his tongs at his son. “Trying to get me to believe your charade is a new low.”
“No-one’s trying to get you to believe anything.” Shawn shrugs again. “By the way… what were you doing watching reality dating shows after getting back from a fishing trip? Your tradition is fishing competition after a fishing day, everyone knows that.”
“How did you-” Henry quickly looks through his window, but the TV is off at this point. “Alright Shawn, did you come here just to piss me off today or do you have something you need?”
“A man can’t just visit his father?”
“You can’t just visit your father.”
“Alright, you got me. Listen, Gus and I have a new case that’s… pretty high profile, and I remembered one of your poker buddies just moved into the mayor’s neighborhood. I was hoping you’d help me get him to let us do a stakeout from his house.”
Henry purses his lips and nods a bit. “Stakeout in the mayor’s neighborhood. Sure, Shawn, that’s an easy ask. Let me just call him up and explain why you can’t just-” Henry makes some mocking gestures with his hands. “-conjure up what you need.”
“Well, I could,” Shawn says confidently. “But then I wouldn’t get to eat stakeout snacks.”
“You’re not getting into his house, Shawn.”
“Fine. … I’ll do it my way.” Shawn turns on his heel and begins to walk away, but pauses at the gate and turns. “Oh, and Pops? You used salt instead of sugar in your sauce there.”
He turns again and leaves fully, Gus coming out from behind the tree and giving Shawn a fistbump as they both walk away.
Henry scoffs, knowing Shawn didn’t taste the sauce. He waits until he can’t hear footsteps anymore, and then dips his pinkie into the bowl and tastes it. For his own satisfaction.
Instead he splutters and spits it out into the grass, his sweet-and-sour sauce more like salt and sour.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The mayor’s wife’s case would be easy even without psychic visions. After one look around the house and one round of chatting with each member of the household, he knows it’s the son. He’s been brought up with the expectation of becoming the next mayor, and was obviously cracking under the pressure. The stolen documents would cast such a pall on the family name that it’d guarantee the death of his political career before it ever started, and the guy clearly had little to no concern about how that would impact his parents. The mayor didn’t even know the documents were missing until his wife had reported it, because his ‘very responsible’ son was in charge of them. Shawn even found the corner of a page with the office symbol visible caught under the son’s dresser- and he got a small vision confirming his suspicion that the son hid the documents under there before moving them before Maid Day.
“OH! I smell the priceless, important mayoral ink!” Shawn has his hand by his head the moment Lassie and Jules step into the foyer to update the family. Shawn holds the imaginary papers up to his nose and takes a deep inhale. “No, wait, there’s-there’s more. Something… musty? No, not musty, zes-zesty? No, no… DUSTY!”
Shawn pulls the pretend papers away from his nose. “The papers were kept somewhere dusty! And- OW!” He snaps his hand away from his temple and over to his ear. He keeps up a silent expression of sheer pain for a moment before sucking in a breath, so dramatic and raw that it makes Jules step forward in concern.
Shawn yanks his hand away from his ear to point at the son. “You.”
“Him?” Lassiter’s open disbelief just encourages Shawn more. “It’d ruin his career, what are you talking about?”
“Yes. Yes, exactly. Guh!” Shawn brings his hand back to his temple and closes his eyes. “You… you want to lose your career path. The politics, the parties, the pressure… yes, I see it now. You hid the documents and staged the theft because you want out!”
The son steps back. “I- what are you talking about? This is my whole life.”
“Exactly.” Shawn opens his eyes. “Ex-actly! Your whole life is nothing but this! Paperwork and flattering and perfection! I can see your drained, tired aura all around you!”
He hopes that never becomes true. Auras sound like a very annoying thing to have to deal with seeing. He’s fairly certain that his dad’s would look like those awful racetrack shirts from the Jimmy Nickles case, all smashed together and awful enough to blind his first, second, and third eyes.
The son looks at his parents. “Come on, this guys has been here for like, three hours, he-he barely even looked around!”
“With my physical eyes, maybe.” Shawn nods. “But with my spiritual eyes I saw everything. And, OH!” He gestures at his ear again. “Oh, I feel everything! Lassie, I think if you check under his dresser in his bedroom, you’ll find a piece of one of the stolen documents under the left back leg.
The son pales. He looks at his parents, backing away from them. “It-it was just budget documents. Nothing harmful.”
His mother covers her mouth. The mayor stares in disbelief.
“Is that a confession?” Lassiter pulls out his cuffs.
“It wouldn’t have hurt anyone!” the son insists again. “Just-just pushed a few deadlines back!”
“Yeah, like food assistance program funding and money for road repair.” Gus looks at the son with confusion and judgment. “Which a lot of people rely on for quality of life.”
“I didn’t destroy them!”
“Yeah, that’s a confession.” Lassiter cuffs the man. “Next time try having a normal scandal to ruin your career.”
“One that doesn’t hurt poor people!” Gus watches the son be led away. “Man, how selfish can you get? Imagine if he had gotten into office.”
“... I actually don’t think much would change, Gus.” Shawn looks past Gus at the mayor. “No offense. There’s just-just a lot of potholes on my street.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gus leans back in his chair, grinning at the check. “You know what this calls for.”
“Way ahead of you, Gus.” Shawn turns around his laptop to show a page for a pineapple-shaped couch.
Gus tsks and yanks the check out of sight. “No way. I meant, this is our first time making an actual profit instead of just operating at a loss or barely breaking even.”
“Dude! The Sweetness just got sweeter! … Man, I hope this doesn’t actually come from spirits. It’d-it’d be a little weird to be calling a bunch of dead strangers Sweetness.”
“Well, have you talked to any dead people?”
“Nah, man. Just visions and gut feelings. Oh, and I totally read Buzz’s mind earlier.”
“For real?”
“For real!”
“What was he thinking?”
“... That part’s a little fuzzier.”
“So you didn’t read his mind.”
“I did! Just… not very clearly. It was something about bagels. Maybe.”
Gus shakes his head and opens his own laptop. “I’m booking you another meditation class.”
“Oh, throw in a massage at the place next door.”
“How is a massage supposed to help you grow and hone your psychic powers?”
“It’s not. But we’ve got money to burn now, man!”
“We made a little profit.”
“That’s the most profit we’ve ever made!”
“That you didn’t immediately gamble away.”
“... That’s low, Gus, that’s a low blow.”
#real psychic shawn spencer#psych#psychusa#psych usa#psych 2006#psych the show#psych the tv show#psych tw#psychfic#shawn spencer#burton guster#burton gus guster#carlton lassiter#juliet o'hara#henry spencer#funny fic#fluff
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Wrong On The Money (32)
part 32 of ?? | 1207 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!”
He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello.
(cw references to Billy's racism)
32.
Eddie has finally moved up from bed rest to shuffling around the house sometimes as long as he takes frequent breaks. Which he’s happy to do, because his PT exercises always kick his ass right into nap time. The new couch in the new living room is actually comfortable, and it's a relief to escape from his now over-familiar bedroom.
Steve bursts through the door like some sort of floppy haired, athletic puppy. “Hey Eds, look who I found!”
He’s dragging someone behind him by the wrist, and a very nonplussed Jeff waves hello. Mouth dropping open, Eddie raises one hand for a weak wave back.
“I have to go back to the store,” Steve says, all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as he circles back to the door. “I kinda forgot about groceries for a minute there, so, still need to get those. But you two should catch up!”
“Uh, okay?” Eddie says, and Steve flashes him a grin and two thumbs up before disappearing again.
“What,” Jeff starts, sounding shaken, “just happened?”
Eddie shrugs. “Steve Harrington.”
“He knows where you live? He calls you Eds?”
“If it helps, the nickname is new. And, uh . . . he kind of lives here too. Loooong story.”
Jeff shoots him an incredulous look. Then he asks where the PBR is, shaking his head when Eddie admits that he can’t drink on his meds so there's none in the house. (“I can have one beer,” Eddie has whined many times, but always gets a blunt no from Wayne or Steve in response. He’s given up on sulking about it.)
First, they sit on the couch with a can of Coke each and catch up.
Jeff’s family did leave Hawkins, but only until it was declared safe again. They’re staying with his aunt on the outskirts of town—and Eddie doesn’t know her number, which is why his calls never went through. Jeff’s actual house is still undergoing repairs before they can move back in. He’s taking a year off before college to take some of the financial pressure off his parents.
Gareth and his mom are camped out in a hotel, taking advantage of the government’s emergency subsidies for families whose houses were totally leveled. They’ll probably stay in town and buy new.
“Frank’s folks had to move, though,” Jeff admits. “He’s on the other side of Roane County now. The high school over there doesn’t even have a D&D club.” A pause. “Oh, and I wrote to Margaret, she’s coming to visit next month to, and I quote, ‘take in the ineffable shitshow that is Hawkins, Indiana.’ I think New York is getting to her, man.”
And shit, it’ll be good to see Margaret again, same way it’s good to see Jeff and it’ll be good to see Gareth. Frank too, whenever he can swing by. Because the thing about being suddenly folded into a new friend group of monster hunters is . . . Eddie still misses his old gang. One is silver and the other’s gold, and all that bullshit.
Eddie, for his part, gives a perfunctory explanation of the house (“Government restitution for our old place and my criminal record going through the meat grinder”) and Steve’s presence (“We talked it out, the past few months he’s just been . . . paying rent in advance”).
Silence creeps in. Eddie sips at his Coke, slurping it in little mouthfuls as if that might continue to delay the inevitable.
It doesn’t.
“So . . . what the hell happened, man?”
Eddie tries not to look directly at his friend. “You mean to Hawkins?” He’d signed a shit-ton of NDAs while high off his ass on painkillers, but that still feels like the easier question to answer.
“Dude, everyone knows about the earthquake,” Jeff scoffs. “I mean with Harrington. If you talked it out with him, why is he playing the Alfred to your Bruce Wayne?”
Thinking back to the demobats, Eddie snorts. If only Jeff knew.
He doesn’t tell him, though. Not because of the legalities—fuck that shit, this whole mess was the government’s fault to begin with, he’s pretty sure. It’s just that, Eddie wishes he didn’t have to know. He’s not going to inflict that on a friend.
But he does explain about Steve, more or less.
“Okay,” Jeff says finally. “So you’re telling me that gas leak a few years ago killed Barbara Holland actually in his backyard, and the government covered it up but he still felt guilty for some reason, so he started making up for it by being less of a douchebag.” Pausing for a moment, Jeff frowns as he goes over it in his head the same way he would a campaign, ticking unspoken points off on his fingers. “The timeline works, I guess. . . . I don’t remember him causing much trouble for anyone after that fall. Hagan got worse, and Hargrove was a fucking nightmare, but the worst Harrington did was not be quite popular enough anymore to keep them in check.” Jeff looks up at Eddie. “And then . . . he started babysitting nerds? Our freshman nerds.”
They’d literally seen Steve pick the kids up from Hellfire games all school year—from a distance at first, and then close up once the blackmail had been set in motion. But Eddie gets it, because he hadn’t understood it at first either.
“Dustin’s got him wrapped around his little finger,” he confirms. “All the little shits do. Remember when he came to school with his face all rearranged by Hargrove? Asshole was gunning for Lucas.”
That makes Jeff’s eyebrows twitch together and his mouth set in a grim line that Eddie doesn’t often see. Eddie can practically see his opinion on Steve going up based on Jeff’s own run-ins with Hargrove. “Christ.”
“Yeah.” Eddie plays with his now empty Coke can, pushing the aluminum sides in and then popping them back out again. “And then I fucking blackmailed him.”
“Not very successfully, though,” Jeff points out, scratching at the side of his jaw. “Not if his real motivation for giving you money was wanting to help out and work off some of his guilt about Barbara. Actually, he’s the one who led you on, and nobody was being intimidated by anybody. Which—I’m not going to say I told you so, but I definitely called it.”
Sputtering, Eddie tugs the tab off his can and flicks it at him. “Dick!”
“And are you still crushing on him hard?”
This time, he throws the whole can, but Jeff ducks it.
“That’s a yes.”
“We’re friends now,” Eddie hisses, pulling hair across his face to hide his embarrassed flush. “He saved my life, and based on his cooking alone I think he’s slowly becoming Wayne’s favorite son. I can’t—”
“You said Steve was the one who brought up living with in the first place,” Jeff points out. “He knows you were both at that club for the same reason, maybe he’s . . . you know, interested. Did you ever think of that?”
“No,” Eddie grumbles, lying. “Look, Steve didn’t want to live under his asshole parents’ roof anymore. That’s it.”
He refuses to read anything else into it. That way madness lies, and too much seeing what he wants to see rather than what’s actually there.
#steddie blackmail fic#cw references to billy's racism#eddie munson#steve harrington#jeff (stranger things)#if steve is a golden retriever then eddie is a gangly ostrich sticking his head in the sand#steddie#steddie fic
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Dad was cheap
Like not funny ha ha cheap.. Like he was, but also wtf infuriating cheap
He would tithe to the church all he felt he should, I mean litterally every few months, they would post in a special bulletin who gave and how much total. Dick measuring to guilt others if I ever saw it. That's the only time I'd hope he had been cheap but no...
He was an LPN, almost RN but he decided not, back in the 70s was a different outlook of those peeps and roles in industry.
I saw his pay stubs after he died when cleaning out his shed.... Naturally that's where they go. I couldn't believe how little he made, so I get frugal, I get I got second hand clothes a huge percentage of time and those handed down to my brother, but he always provided.
Mom didn't work until we were out of the house. Raising two boys and I can tell stories... She SHOULD have been paid... She mentally survived though, I guess you do.
His cheapness didn't affect basic to intermediate auto repairs, my dad had everything done at a shop, I grew up craving to do it, oil/coolant /brake /transmission fluid changing, doing my own brakes, shocks, suspension, most top engine parts, diagnosing electrical and physical gremlins. I still do, not out of necessity but because I enjoy it.
Hurt when I told dad I would do his brakes, he never had me, I would just charge parts, I know where to buy them, just like oil, I can buy great quality brake parts for both axles and come in well under what a shop does mediocre for one axle in price, and they don't treat your car like it's theirs, the tactics in which one needs to remove parts at times with violence I am well versed, as well as taking the time to do it right and careful gets cut sometimes, but I respect it was his choice.
The most cheap thing he did and it pissed me off one time and I finally got him to understand was tipping. Ten dollar meal, 80 cents, 50 dollar meal a few dollars. Now I will say it's up to everyone to tip how they want, and I do agree tipping for things now in some respects are out of control, but I started out as a puppy in the service industry, and while I didn't need to earn tips, I ran the kitchen and interacted directly with those that did and my performance could fuck them from tips and so I made sure I cooked and plated like every meal made was mine.
We were up in Canada, stopped at some strip mall diner, ordered burgers, my dad thought his was not done quite enough, but otherwise everything was fine, we were trying to get to upstate NY to bury my grandmother, his mom and I get maybe he was under duress, but I was too, I was doing all the driving because I love to drive but still it's very long and need to focus too much, people are assholes when you take a nap for a bit driving for some reason, like jeez I get it🤣
I watched my dad get the bill, easiest was to pay with card, and not screw with the did different currencies.
I noticed be put a dash on the tip, just wrote the total on the bottom. Now if it's a place you get your food and no service after I get maybe adjusting.
We got multiple how are things? I had 3 Coca-Colas, he had mutiple cups of coffee, a napkin run.... So.... Was not like the server that ran his card and looked defeated as she watched him sign it deserved it.
We get out side, he's opening door, I stand at curb.
Me : dad wtf was that?
Dad :was what?
Me: why the fuck did you stiff the server
Dad: the burger wasn't that good
Me: so?
Dad: was expensive too
Me: no dad it wasn't, it's in their currency, it's same we pay
Dad: ok, well next time...
Me: next time what? Next time we go here? Have her as a server? Or eat again??
Dad: next time we eat
Me: well we are here now
Dad : we have a schedule
Me: the hell we do, so skip a rest stop if we have to, you know we are arriving over three days before she's buried, don't give me this schedule crap, we stop when we want, and don't push our trips
Dad: what do you want me to do
Me : go in there, tip her, tell her you're an ass or that you forgot, I don't care
Dad: next time
Me :did she do anything wrong with service
Dad :the burger was...
Me: no, not her sorry, go bitch to a manager or call the prime minister or something, that was the cook...
Dad : well my coffee mug had something on it
Me: ok.. Hey excuse me miss, can you flog the dishwasher or please get me another mug, somehow this one isn't clean...
Dad: ok! (opens up wallet) all I have is a 10 and hundreds, I will get change next stop....
Me: and drive back and tip her?
Dad : that's absurd
Me: (opening up my wallet) well I only have 20s, that's fine, but if you make me be the one to walk in and do it I am walking away
Dad : son you won't walk off
Me: yes, we both paid our own meals, I tipped her very well for mine, I am good walking to grandma's, not like if I don't make it she would know
Dad : you don't have the money...
Me : don't care I'll sell my body to science or give handjobs, but riding with you that can't understand the principle of the structure and your issues are mechanisms to justify not spending more than the tab, I have watched you for years, you get up from table and mom ends up digging money out of purse and laying tip at the table.
Dad : she doesn't...
Me :the fuck she don't, call her. She just laughs and says... That's your father... I'm not laughing
Dad : (walks into restaurant hands woman the 10 and she smiles)
*walking back to car*
Me: dad I know I was a dick, and I love you, but you irk me
Dad : I know, your mother got mad last week over same thing
Me: good
Dad: besides I need you to ride with me, no one wants your calloused hands giving hand jobs
*laughter *
He got better as he aged, helped I think to have kids move out of house, mom started working a bit after we moved out and food bill fell 🤣, he would ask me and mom what would be a good tip for the meal and service, for years he tried to wrap his mind around how I tipped, service not based on tab. Eat at a diner, server runs their ass off for you, 25 dollar tab, verses same effort from high end restaurant and they should get more? No... So I tip high compared to low tabs and normal for high, dad never understood how for a 12 dollar meal, I'd give 10 tip, not about the price to me.
As he aged he started to throw his money around more, but still had moments.
I remember the car accident, one I wrote about a while back, just out of Sudbury, Canada
Flipped the car, destroyed the vehicle, the car top carrier, the only time we brought our bikes to grandmas the were hanging off the back and trashed, mom had a concussion, Justin had a broken collar bone, so much lost and broken and he said... I just filled up the tank 20 miles back... Dang it should have waited.
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for the fic ask - #11 or #13 for the deweys pls!
hey hey thank you! you get a twofer because i had an idea i couldn't get out of my head :3
11. things you said when you were drunk & 13. things you said at the kitchen table
Connor hates the club. Or — it’s complicated.
Connor hates the whole routine of getting ready, standing in line for an hour because no one knows who the fuck he is around here, and freezing your ass off just to let a billion strangers touch you without any of them really thinking about it. He doesn’t like that it’s sweaty, that it’s loud, that the lights catch his eyes the wrong way sometimes and he’s momentarily blinded, that — a lot of things. There are a lot of reasons for Connor to hate the club.
Chief among them is standing right in front of him looking like he might fall over at any moment.
“We should go home,” Connor shouts, leaning up and speaking into Brandon’s neck to make sure he hears. What he really means is you’re an embarrassment right now, but sue him — he’s got a soft spot.
Brandon’s hands land on his waist, of course. It’s like a hug but worse. Connor’s all sweaty and warm, and Brandon’s hands feel like brands through his damp button-down. Brandon’s messy-drunk, handsy, wobbling a bit. Connor hasn’t been able to make out a thing he’s said for the last ten minutes, mumbled and slurred as his words have been. Connor’s gonna have to hold his hair back while he vomits later, he knows.
Brandon leans down until his head is almost resting on Connor’s shoulder, and for a mortifying moment Connor thinks Brandon’s gonna ralph all over him, but then Brandon says, voice rough from shouting, “I’d take you home.”
Connor goes stock-still. Doesn’t even try to hide it — Brandon’s not gonna remember this tomorrow anyway. For a second, all that’s going through his brain is pure static. Somehow, he manages to laugh. He turns his head just the slightest bit, so he’s talking directly into Brandon’s ear. “B. You’re so fucked up right now.”
“No,” Brandon says. “’M fine.”
“Okay,” Connor says slowly. By now, Brandon has fully draped himself over him, hands migrating to Connor’s lower back, his whole broad, overheated chest pressed to Connor’s. Connor’s like, suffocating. He thinks. “Let’s get outta here, bud. Let’s go home.”
“I’m serious,” Brandon insists, hands tightening, and for a second Connor has this ridiculous idea that Brandon’s gonna slip his fingers beneath Connor’s shirt, hands on skin, slick and sure. Brandon’s mouth grazes Connor’s throat as he speaks. He’s still hiding there. “’F I could, I’d take you home. Right now. ’S fucking stupid, Connor.”
“Um,” says Connor.
“I would,” Brandon says to Connor’s neck.
“Okay,” says Connor. For some reason, he makes direct eye contact with this guy near the door, just for a second, but it sends a bolt of ice straight to the pit of his stomach. “Come on, B. Let’s go.”
---
Brandon’s a shit houseguest. Connor’s known this forever. It somehow always manages to surprise him. He likes to think the best of people, really. Brandon just makes it kind of hard sometimes.
“Why are these made of rubber,” Brandon says through his mouthful of egg. Egg that Connor made him this morning, thank you, after holding his hair back last night and tucking him in with water and Advil and everything. Dickhead.
“Your mom’s made of rubber,” is what comes out of Connor’s mouth. He’ll get him next time.
Brandon gasps. Luckily, he has the wherewithal to swallow first, because at this point, if Brandon started choking on egg, Connor thinks he’d just let him die.
“What,” says Connor. He’s doing the dishes, too. Brandon hasn’t even had the decency to ask if he could help. Whatever.
“I should bring you home sometime,” Brandon says.
Connor freezes. Again. He tries to be subtler about it this time, but Brandon’s not paying attention anyway.
“My mom makes a mean poached egg,” Brandon says. “She could teach you.”
Connor’s voice gives out on him, so he just keeps scrubbing at his pan for a second. The thing is, like. Brandon says all these little things, things like I’d take you home, and dude, we should totally get a place together, and you should meet my mom, Dew. Connor’s never sure which ones he really means. He tries, most of the time, to believe that he doesn’t mean any of them. It’s easier that way. But Connor’s got that stupid soft spot, so.
“I’d like that,” Connor says to the sink. It’s so quiet that at first he doesn’t think Brandon heard. The sound of running water cuts through the kitchen.
“Okay,” Brandon says, then. “Sick. You should come this summer.”
Connor risks a glance back at him. Brandon’s grinning like he just won the lottery. Dumbass. “Sounds good, B.”
#ask#anonymous#rpf talk#2126#prompts#thank uuuu they may be stupid#also if u want to send more prompt asks i will try n do them during the game :3#my writing
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Hi! May Kata and I please have Vanilla Milkshakes with Chocolate and Strawberry syrups and fruit with sprinkles on top! Can we get a Hot Damn, hold the Alice in Wonderland with Motor Oil and Black Jack for me. Oh and that strawberry-red bean mochi ice-cream. Call me "Liz" I'm a decently tall woman she/her. I'm a bit on the heavy side with blue eyes very pale skin and long wavy dark hair that goes past my hips. I'm a bit of a people pleaser and I take things calmly right up until I hit "NOPE!"
OKAY! A bit longer than intended but here it is! Finally! (Sorry for the wait!)
I decided to lowkey imply 'Liz' is roughly his height, maybe a few inches shorter but never addressed it directly, btw.
Warnings: Dubious consent, yandere behavior, possessiveness, protectiveness, unsafe sex, marking, oral sex (female receiving), arranged marriage, praise kink, and possible marriage kink.
Word Count: 2,426
Liz didn’t know why she was here.
Okay, so the wedding dress was a pretty clear indication. But Liz was and has been at a total loss as to why she was getting married since she’d been informed of it a month ago. Members of Big Mom’s crew going in and out of her town to ensure everything was in order. It was baffling and stressful.
Her family didn’t own anything of importance. A small grocery store—Liz doubted that’s what caught Big Mom’s eye—and a little townhouse. That was it. No one in her family had done anything noteworthy in the past few generations besides survive and be tall. But surely that wasn’t it? Just… being tall?
No, Liz shook her head, trying not to mess up her hair. Definitely not.
Her dark hair had been rolled up into a braided headband with gem-studded pins to hold it and the veil in place. White lace dress fitted around her body to her knees where it pooled around her feet and in a long train studded with pearls. Elegant and beautiful, Liz could barely recognize herself, although it only made sense considering who was paying for the wedding... She’d appreciate the dress more if she even understood why it was her walking down the aisle to begin with.
She wasn’t even sure who she was marrying, either. Literally nothing had been asked of her.
Liz had been told she was getting married.
Hell, the only reason she knew it had to be one of Big Mom’s—frankly many—children was because she’d come into town and announced it herself. No one argued against it. How could they?
Liz hadn’t had any opportunity to make a break for it. Not that she had anywhere to go, but still. Everywhere she looked for the month leading up to this moment, there was someone from Big Mom’s crew lurking. Even now she knew at least one person was stationed just outside the room until it was time to walk down the aisle.
There was a knock on the door and Liz jumped. Her startled gaze looking back through the reflection as the door opened a crack a ways behind her.
It was Brulee, one of Big Mom’s daughters. Dressed in a pale lavender dress not too far off from the color of her hair. Beaming with a mischievous look at her.
“It’s almost time~! Are you ready, dearie?” She asked. Liz grimaced, looking over the vanity. There wasn’t anything else she could think to do, so she shrugged.
“I guess?” Liz mumbled, looking at her bouquet of honeysuckle and lavender dotted between white roses. It was an odd choice and certainly not native to her town.
Brulee tutted and sauntered into the room.
“A little more blush, I should think! You’re frightfully pale, even for a bride.” She delicately picked up a brush and dabbed it in the powder before gently tilting Liz’s face towards her. “My brother has been quite excited about this, you know.”
“Brother?” Liz asked, closing her eyes in preparation before the soft bristles dusted her cheeks. Brulee cackled.
“Yes! I know, I know! We’ve been quite secretive about it~ It’s quite a momentous occasion, you’ll have to forgive us for the dramatics.” Brulee paused, putting down the brush. Liz opened her eyes and looked at her. She seemed pensive. “He’s a good man. You’ll give him a chance, won’t you?”
Liz was a bit thrown. On one hand, it was understandable that Brulee would ask for her brother. On the other…
“Was this his idea? The arranged marriage thing?” Brulee tutted.
“No, if it was up to him, he’d never have made a move. We just got tired of watching him pine!” Brulee huffed. Liz looked at her in alarm.
“Pine?!” Had they met?!
Brulee paused, lifting her hand to her ear with an innocent expression.
“Oh, do you hear that? The ceremony is starting, we best get going or we’ll be late~!” Liz barely had time to grab the bouquet before Brulee ushered her out of the room.
The whole town was waiting along with Big Mom’s crew. And at the end of the walkway was her future husband.
Charlotte Katakuri.
If she wasn’t so shocked, she’d have laughed. He seemed just as flustered to be there as she was. Blush prominent even over the brim of his ever-present scarf draped over a black suit.
A lot like that rainy day almost a year ago…
Liz rushed out after locking up the store, struggling with her umbrella under the pouring rain. It popped open suddenly, sending her back against someone else. Just a little taller than her—shockingly—and wet from the rain. His face obscured behind a scarf, she knew who he was anyway.
“Ah… are you closed for the day?” He had asked.
If she’d have known it would end like this, she probably would have agreed and left it at that.
“Oh! We-we kind of are but I can let you grab something real quick if you’re in a hurry?” She couldn’t see his face properly at the time, but his eyes suggested a soft smile.
And here they were.
For some reason, getting married. Seemingly—if Brulee was to be believed—without input from either one of them.
The only coherent thought she had the rest of the ceremony was that this was somehow the most awkward wedding she’d ever been a part of.
There wasn’t even a kiss—notthatshewashopingit’sjust-its-thisisawedding?!—because Katakuri glared at the priest when he mentioned it.
Brulee did boo at that but he seemed more flustered than angry, so Liz didn’t argue either way. For a moment, she thought that Katakuri was just as reluctant to be there as she was. But as he gently pushed up the veil from her face, she saw his eyes.
Narrowed and dark, her husband looked ready to devour her. Covetous and hungry. No trick of the light, either, as he gently pressed his forehead against hers. His voice clear but soft enough only she could hear him.
“Mine.”
That word settled in her chest like a rock. This was no accident. The wedding may not have originally been his idea, but it was undeniable that he wanted this.
Better than the loveless marriage she feared only an hour ago, but still…
Neither his gaze nor his hand left her side the entire celebration. Big Mom—oh seas her mother in law now—having an entire cake to herself as she was given gifts ‘for the household’.
Liz didn’t even realize she’d likely be moved from her home. Hadn’t been able to even consider that reality in all the confusion.
“…Where are we going?” She asked softly when Katakuri suddenly excused them from the head table to ‘retire’ for the night. He glanced at her and his gaze softened.
“My private quarters. No one will bother us there.”
Liz felt her heart race, face flush as she was dragged past the familiar faces of her home towards a large ship in the docks. There was a sort of desperate energy to him as he walked faster, hands twitching to pick her up to carry when he boarded the ship.
Mochi littered the deck in their wake, forming thick walls as he led the way deeper through a maze of halls and past rows of doors. The smell tickling her nose as he threw open a large door.
Liz was tossed unceremoniously into the dark as the doors slammed shut behind them. Bouncing off of a soft mattress, dress flaring around her knees. She could hear him panting. The sound of fabric falling to the floor as he moved around the room.
The crack of a match close by made her jump.
It was Katakuri, delicately holding up a flaming match to a candle before moving to light more candles around the room. About a dozen providing dim, intimate warmth to the room. His chest bare of any clothing and only dress slacks hanging loosely around his hips. Tattoos running down his left side almost gold in the soft light as he turned towards her.
The scarf that used to pile onto his broad shoulders slipped onto the floor, revealing sharp fangs poking out from his lips and scars running up from the corners to above his ears.
“You look breathtaking right now, laying on my bed, wife.” Katakuri breathed, almost panting as he crawled up the sheets. He stared down at her with rapt appreciation, eyes skimming over her bared shoulders and where her dress failed to contain her soft skin. “It’s only fitting that such a sweet dream found it’s way here. I apologize if I seem ravenous. I just can’t wait to eat you up~”
He leaned down and pressed the flat of his tongue in the crevasse between her breasts. Lapping up the exposed area to her neck where he pressed his lips hard against her skin. Nipping and sucking it between his lips. Without thinking, Liz pushed her palms to his shoulders with no effect. And for a moment, he ignored her flustered squirming, intent on bruising her pale neck with a soft growl.
His hands swept over the sheets and clasped her wrists together. Something soft and thick forming a tight band around it as he shoved her hands up towards the bedframe where it stuck. He grinned, kissing her chest as he tugged the cups down under her breasts, exposing them to his fangs.
Hands now free, he eagerly ran his hands down her wide hips, tugging the fabric to see how much give there was.
Katakuri nipped a soft mark under her breasts as he gently pulled the dress up her hips. Slowly exposing her stockings and garter belt as the fabric bunched in a thick band around her waist. The weight of the fabric making her breathless as his breath sank through the layers while he kissed his way to her thighs.
“K-Kata--!” Liz yelped when he opened his jaw wide and sank his teeth into her thigh and stockings. Just enough to leave a mark as he sucked a harsh mark, his tongue rolling over the thin fabric and soft skin. She could feel his laugh in her cunt he was so close, the air curling around her wet panties.
“Yes, my sweet? Are you as impatient as I am to be mine?” He cooed, releasing her thigh to press his tongue over her clothed pussy. “Finally mine. No have and to hold, you’ll want for nothing. What’s mine is yours.” Katakuri declared, pulling her panties to the side to sink his tongue into her folds with a moan.
Liz gasped, arching off the bed as his hot tongue slipped into her cunt easily between her arousal and the thick drool on his tongue.
“O-Ooooh~ K-Ka-aaahh~ta! Fuck!” Liz’s head snapped back as her heels dug into the bed to try and lift away from his encroaching tongue. But he gripped her thighs and lifted her up, burying his head eagerly as he seemed to fight to drench her cunt faster than she could on her own.
Her garter snapped against her thigh and she screamed, clenching down on his tongue as he fucked her open for his pleasure. His moans of appreciation echoing over the wet smacks of his lips against her cunt. Intertwining with her sobs as she rapidly approached the edge, pussy soaked and thoroughly tasted.
Suddenly, he yanked his head back with a lewd pop, her cries cut short only to rise sharply as something much less forgiving pressed into her cunt.
Katakuri braced himself above her with one hand, the other steadying her hips for his encroachment. Cock slipping easily into her as he panted for air harshly. Eyes burning into her as he grinned, lips and chin still soaked with her arousal.
“You’re taking me so well, my sweet. Like you were made for this—for me.” He whispered, leaning down to give her a chaste kiss as though he wasn’t hilting his cock in her walls and smearing her cum on her cheeks. “Go on. We’re married now, there’s no need to hide how bad you want this.” Katakuri slipped his tongue into her mouth as he started a slow rhythm. Fucking her into the bed in an unrelenting slide, grinding against her walls with every groan.
Liz moaned, the fire growing under the heavy weight of her dress and in her pussy.
“K-kaaaaaaahh~ oh fu-UCK—K-KATA—Ahhhh-ah~!” Liz wailed as he ground into her hips, pressing the full weight of his body against the mattress. He laughed victoriously.
“Just like that, sweet wife~ Take everything you want from me.” Katakuri hissed, rolling his hips against her trembling thighs harder. “I’ve got so much to give you!”
Liz jerked her hands against the thick band of mochi as she soaked her dress with cum.
“I knew you’d fit perfectly beneath me from the moment I saw you. Look at you~ So sweet on your husband’s cock~” Katakuri moaned, the bed rocking harder with noisy protests. “I’m all you need, aren’t I? This is all you need, isn’t it? Tell me who you need.” he hissed, the frame now slamming against the wall.
Wet smacks and groaning wood almost drowning out her mortified moans.
He looked possessed, mouth agape as he bared his teeth like he was about to take a bite.
“Y-YES! YES! OOoooh! K-Katakgh—Ah! Hhaahhh~!” Liz seized, clenching down on him so hard her hips followed as he pulled back to slam into her cunt. Her eyes watered as her orgasm burned through her thoughts. “I-I need you! I need you~! O-Ohhhh~! YES! K-Ka-ata, yes!”
“I knew it! I knew you needed me! Oh? Tsk, don’t cry sweet wife, we have our whole honeymoon to sate our desire~” Katakuri grunted, pressing her into the mattress as he finally came. Cum settling in hot around his cock and down her thighs as he laughed breathlessly, nuzzling her hair. “Not that I’ll ever stop hungering for your sweetness, just like your sweet body will hunger for mine. Isn’t that right, wife?”
Liz sobbed, trembling as he rocked against her, grinding his twitching cock in deep.
“Y-yes…” She gasped as he nipped her throat harshly. “H-Husband—oooh~” Liz moaned helplessly as his hand slipped down to her clit and rubbed it.
“My sweet, obedient wife~” Katakuri purred, thrusting into her again while teasing her clit.
It was going to be a very long night.
#shake date#one piece smut#charlotte katakuri#katakuri x oc#katakuri smut#yandere smut#it's implied that he lowkey ensured the wedding happened without getting directly involved#charlotte brulee#she's in the background more or less but just happy to see her bro so happy
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hey guys! had a nap so I'm back to update u guys properly. I'm going to try to summarize the post I made a bit better, as well as posting the picture I shared with the previews (as little as it is)
*TWPT extra image. Translation: ”Come back soon! - Lan Sizhui”
As always, check out my masterpost in order to get more content! ❤
So onto what I mentioned earlier today, I'm delaying Ch 27 of Ghost of Mine by at least one more week due to life continuing to throw shit my way. However I'm sharing some previews on ao3 (they will be removed when I upload 27, just like the aftercare ficlet). A longer explanation will be under the cut!
This is in addition to stuff that is still happening from my previous life update.
as you guys know the past tenants aren't really paying their dues, so I've been waiting on that & I got a large charge from an insurance company I wasn't expecting on top of that. Then I got a second charge from the same company, in the same month, for the usual amount. So we lost as much as 900+ dollars this month. As you can probably expect, that is a lot of money to lose at once unless you are reasonably wealthy and comfortable.
We only just today got our check for next month- early, which is great because we were worried that we would have to stretch things until the 3rd with no new groceries other than what my mom might be able to throw our way. Before we got the check as well my cats decided they absolutely did not like the food I got them- My cats aren't picky when they're hungry, so this was a bizarre and unexpected thing and I couldn't spare the money to buy a new bag of food (my mom helped us by buying a new bag of their previous food and essentially doing a trade with us, so she has the food they don't like) Just, in general a lot of stress is happening at the same time.
Onto GOM: I was writing recently (I can't remember the exact day, it was probably up to two weeks ago) as I did rewrite the entire beginning of Ch 27 and planned to cut out a lot more, which is why it's taking me much longer than expected to complete this chapter- it's my first show of proper investigation and intrigue that is a bit dangerous for the present time and not just, you know, only revealing information- I really want this chapter to be good and not rushed through like my initial first pass. It was a short-lived lapse in my stress when I wrote the first fourth of the rewrite, and I've hit a spot in the chapter that's difficult when my mind is so distracted by the stress.
SO, as to make up for this lack of update (again) I'm gonna give you guys three exclusive previews, one for the beginning of Ghost of Mine Ch 27 (just the first bit, not everything I've written so far bc its still prone to change and I want to give u guys the best version), the beginning of Rose Hips and Flushed Fingertips - The Story of Mo Xuanyu (GOM extra), and the beginning of The Wild Plum Tree (JC & LXC's story - GOM extra) so I hope you enjoy these exclusive previews, as they are all directly connected with the story and are canon to the GOM universe.
TLDR; struggling still, this is another delay. will check back in in about a week- I'm going to show you guys some exclusive previews for GOM related content that isn't yet released to make up for it right now! GOM CH 27, RH&FF (Ch.1/Part1), and TWPT (Ch.1).
PLEASE, KEEP IN MIND:
the previews are still very prone to change. RH&FF/TWPT especially, since I am always struggling on how I write JC to make him feel canon to me (and he doesn't here, in my opinion, just bc I haven't described him well enough there) so just keep that in mind when you read!
So I hope you guys enjoy the previews and come back next Sunday!
#yes lsz “drew” the picture i shared with the preview#its still a little too nice for his age as of that timeline but ehhhh ignore it#sasu speaks#GOM update#Ghost of Mine preview#previews#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#the grandmaster of demonic cultivation#mdzs fanfiction#mdzs fanart#mdzs fanfic#jiang cheng#lan yuan#lan sizhui#mo xuanyu#wei wuxian#sketch#writing preview#mdzs fic
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Hi again ^^
Thank you for that delicious ArmKhun headcanon answer. I have an immediate follow-up ask. You mentioned that you have vivid background headcanons for all the bodyguards, as if that isn't a massive tease. Any details you'd be willing to spill? 👀
Haha I suppose that was a bit of a tease! Your asks keep making my DAY, I will happily talk about these boys all day every day.
OK, the Giraffeter Bodyguard Backstory Headcanons are:
Big: I alluded to some of this in Gonna Fade You Like That Rush, but in my mind Big is the son of one of Korn's lieutenants — his dad works for Korn, his grandfather worked for Korn's father, the families go back. We know that he's one of Korn's hand-raised bodyguards and that he and Kinn grew up together; I think Korn would not be interested in caring for a bunch of additional children, so my headcanon is that his hand-raised boys stay with their families of origin until they've completed their mandatory schooling, which in Thailand is through Grade 9 — Big would be 14 or 15 when he came to the main family house and began his training. Big is the younger son in his family: his older brother will inherit their family's piece of the Theerapanyakul criminal empire, and Big's been marked for Kinn for basically his whole life. Even before Tankhun's abduction, Big belonged to Kinn. He met Kinn for the first time when he was about 12 and Kinn was 15 or so — Kinn was the coolest Cool Older Teen Big had ever laid eyes on. He smiled that devastating smile at Big and talked to him about video games or something and Big plunged headfirst into a fealty kink that would last the rest of his brief life.
Ken: As much as I have read and enjoyed many fics shipping Ken with various other male characters, my favorite headcanon for Ken is that he is the "token straight" in the main family house, and as such is relatively immune to the psychosexual shenanigans taking place on all sides of him. He's from a fairly well-off family — he grew up in Thailand but went to an international school, and he went to college in Australia. He was a competitive swimmer all through high school and college, which is why the "nice one, loser" moment cuts so deep. He has that very dangerous trait of "smart but not as smart as he thinks he is" in addition to being pretty greedy and amoral, so my headcanon is that he was boosting cars or some shit and stole the wrong car. Chan gave him a choice of "well-paying job for life or bullet in the head right now" and he happily chose the former. He thought working for the mob would be a lot more glamorous and exciting than it turned out to be; that, combined with aforementioned unwarranted self-confidence and greed, was what made it so easy for Gun to turn him.
Arm: I covered this in my answer to your delightful previous ask so I'll be brief here, but my headcanon is that Arm is ex-military and a trained field medic, and has some experience being around PTSD.
Pete: Pete is another one where we actually do know a bit about his backstory: the abusive father, the loving grandma, the complicated relationship to food, the history as a boxer. I don't understand Thai well enough to verify this but when Pete says "boxing" I assume he means muay thai. Pete is a real country boy, and I think he didn't spend much time in Bangkok before he came to work for Korn. I think he dealt with some food insecurity as a kid, from a combination of his dad not having much money and also just not being around much to feed him — I think his grandma (who I think he calls ยาย meaning she's his mom's mom?) took care to feed him up as much as she could when he visited her. My headcanon is that Korn straight-up bought Pete, either for cash after seeing him fight or as payment for a gambling debt his dad owed Korn's organization.
Pol: I think Pol was another one of Korn's hand-raised bunch, although his background is different from Big's. I don't think his parents are directly involved in the criminal underworld in the way I imagine Big's as being; instead, I think they're just regular working-class people who own a business, maybe a shop or something, that comes under Korn's purview. We've seen that the Theerapanyakul empire contains as many legitimate enterprises (bread company!) as illegitimate, and we know a lot of their money comes from real estate, so it might be as simple as Korn being Pol's family's landlord. Maybe they've been tenants of his for a long time, since his dad was still in charge; maybe they were part of the first territory he controlled while he was working his way up. At any rate, at some point when Pol was growing up Korn said "I have a job for your son if he wants it;" now Pol lives in the fancy house, has nice clothes and all his meals provided, and makes more money than his parents do by a long shot. He's the only one of the main bodyguard squad with a good relationship with his family (Pete and his grandma notwithstanding), which is why he's always on the shared phone.
Thanks for the ask! It was fun to write all this out after carrying it in my head for so long!
#kinnporsche fic#kinnporsche headcanons#big kinnporsche#arm and pol#arm kinnporsche#pol kinnporsche#ken kinnporsche#pete saengtham#kinnporsche
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PWs always want to bring up that Ricky made Gina cry and didn't prioritize her in Season 2 and to some degree they're correct but it's clear that it was unintentional. They completely omit that EJ intentionally cancelled his risotto date with Gina in the S2 Finale because Jamie relayed false information to EJ that Gina liked EJ "like a brother" without even telling her why he cancelled. smh Ricky either prioritizes Nini (his gf) and not Gina or he prioritizes Gina over his girlfriend Nini.
Ricky really can’t win with #them. If he spent time with Gina, they’d say he was being a bad boyfriend to Nini — but if he didn’t pay enough attention to Gina, if he tried to soften what they have into something platonic (keyword is “tried”, that obviously didn’t work lol) because he’s doing his best to make things work with his, at the time, literal girlfriend, then “Gina deserves better.” and “he doesn’t care about her.” The textbook definition of “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.” (or at least it would be, if there’s a textbook that defines that phrase, somewhere out there).
Also, I’m about as tired of the “Ricky made Gina cry” argument as I am of the “Gina’s not Ricky’s first choice” argument. Ricky, like you mentioned, never intentionally made Gina cry. She didn’t cry because she felt Ricky was treating her badly or because he said or did anything in particular to her that made her upset.
Ricky didn’t make her cry, she cried because Ricky had a girlfriend. She cried because the boy she liked, the one she felt so inexplicably connected to, was with someone and that someone wasn’t her — but her sadness didn’t stem entirely from Ricky’s relationship with Nini, either. She was also a kid living without her mom (her only close family member and, up until recently, the only constant in her life) in someone else’s house, in someone else’s room.
& on top of that, the people Gina chose to stay for, the first solid friend group she’s probably ever had, repeatedly took advantage of her kindness. Gina was guilted into auditioning for BATB with Ashlyn & Kourtney (despite the fact that she had planned & prepared for a solo audition) and, as a result, was cast in a small supporting role that she didn’t want. Carlos appointed Gina his co-choreographer, but he let her give up a dance she clearly worked very hard on in favor of his own routine without any hesitation, even after she confided in him about how much she’d been struggling since she got back to East High. He knew she needed a win and he didn’t give it to her.
There are aspects of s2 that, in retrospect, look a lot better post-s3, but the way Gina’s friends treated her was not one of them.
My point, though, is that Gina was left without a mom, without a home or room of her own, stuck sharing choreography duties while playing a feather duster. Gina had nothing that was just her’s. She had sacrificed so much and she wasn’t getting anything back. So, while Gina may have cried over having to see Ricky with Nini, over feeling like she couldn’t connect with him as freely as she once did now that he had a girlfriend (because she knew that their relationship naturally had a romantic undertone to it and, for the first time since they met, Gina had to be careful with that) it was never just about that.
& you’re right about EJ. When Gina cried over Ricky it was (sorry for repeating myself) primarily because it broke her heart to see him with someone else, but when she cried over EJ it was because what he did/said to her, directly, made her upset. He sees how excited Gina is for their date, and still he cancels, without offering so much as a simple explanation. &, when they’re actually together, he makes her (rightfully) pissed off by keeping secrets from her, despite the fact that she made a conscious effort not to keep anything from him. Then, he makes her feel unseen & unwanted, like a “maybe,” to the point where she breaks up with him and leaves Prom, a dance she was so excited to go to, with shaky breaths and teary eyes. (& who followed her out as she fled and asked if she was okay? Who was there to pick up the pieces — literally — while she cried at coat check? I’ll give you a hint, it sure as hell wasn’t EJ.)
#again i am garbage for taking so long to answer this#alexa play 'a billion sorrys' by matt cornett#hsmtmts#ricky x gina#rina#asks#anon
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Following up on that reblog about asks.
You mentioned that you used to live in the valley. How long did you live here and what drew/pushed you away?
I was born and raised there. So of course I couldn't wait to get away for college, though I only made it to San Antonio. And then I went back for grad school at what was still UT Pan Am, and then away for 3 years for my husband's grad school and then directly back because that's where my husband happened to get a job. I haven't lived there in nine years, but I still say home when I'm talking about it. So I don't feel like I truly moved away until I was 30.
The Valley that existed when I was a teenager in the 90s is gone. Long gone. Like back then the big bookstore was a tiny Walden's at La Plaza mall. (And I spent so many hours there.) So a lot of why I wanted to leave isn't even relevant anymore. I just wanted out and I wanted more. It was also probably fueled by some internalized racism, but also the fear that despite being told I could do anything, I would go to Pan Am and then get my teaching certification, and then just teach there in the Valley and have the exact same life my parents did.
And at the time it was like culture? What culture? This is just home. Oh boy I had no idea. (But also in my defense we were SO small town back then. It was *only* our weirdo border culture. It did start getting better in my late 20s, but my mom was still pushing for me to stay there and teach.) Then raising my kid largely in the Midwest made it so hard to keep them in touch with our culture. It was all stuff I never had to think about. Mariachis, and folklorico, and all the stuff at the history museum my aunt would take me to and just hearing Spanish day to day... and that's all been on me. Before I left, I never had to think about being Mexican because it was all right there. I had to a little in college, because it is a very white school, but still proud of its place in San Antonio. But moving to Minnesota? Even though I am white latina, for the first time ever I was VERY aware I'm a minority, and in a way that didn't always feel safe. (Highly ironic as I got so so many instances of "Well at least you're safe now that you moved here." Like, one fuck you I never said we left because it was unsafe. Two fuck your confederate flag sticker. Do you even know what side Minnesota was on in that war? Three we literally have one of the lowest murder rates in the country.) And I responded to that by becoming more proud of my heritage and like aggressively latina. I worked on my Spanish (still lousy), and I learned to make all the foods I took for granted that I could just go out for. So I think that's what is always going to keep me in central and south Texas. It's safe and it's home and it's where my family is. (Dad's family has been out in Starr county since, from what I can tell, about the time Texas became Texas.)
So that was a very long winded way of saying Puro 956, but I needed to live somewhere else. Four hours away from my mom is also a bonus. I love her but... we need space. The dream is we win the lotto and move back and open a really nice theatre and get Broadway touring shows to come down because it is absolutely absurd that it is the fifth largest metroplex in Texas but there is no big theatre, and tickets will always be pay what you can, and we'll do special shows for all the high school kids. But I probably won't be moving back til that happens.
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Spellbound (We Are Entranced)
A Max Mayfield Character Study Throughout Season 4
Getting up in the morning was hard. It'd been that way for almost a year now. Max would wake up and wish she hadn't. She'd like to sleep forever. It was peaceful there; you know, if you don't count the nightmares.
Yet, her alarm clock still drew her out of bed. Every. Single. Morning.
Dressing in a dirty shirt she'd worn twice this week and a jacket on top, Max headed down the hallway into the living room. At least, that's the best word for it. A shitty trailer is more accurate.
Beer bottles littered the space, but she didn't pick them up. Not this morning; Max didn't have the energy.
Grabbing two Tylenol, she placed them in her mouth before swallowing them down with some water from the sink.
Her mother was nowhere in sight, and when Max checked the bedroom, she found it empty. Lord knows where she was at seven in the morning.
She was probably drunk. She'd been that way recently. Ever since Neil left, that is.
Grabbing her red bookbag, Max made her way out the door. She wasn't hungry enough for breakfast. She was never hungry.
Max watched as Eddie Munson sped away in his van, rock music blaring. Too bad she couldn't drive. Instead, Max had to take the bus. At least she had her Walkman and Kate Bush to keep her sane.
Hopping off the crowded bus, Max rolled her eyes as someone called her name. She didn't want to have a conversation this early in the morning.
"Max! Max!" Taking off her headphones and turning around, she realized the voice was of Ms. Kelly. "Where were you yesterday?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot it was Thursday," Max mumbled.
"Well, I'd like to see you today. Come straight after lunch, okay?"
Nodding, Max walked away, placing her headphones back on her ears.
The assembly was... painful. Not only cringey (specifically Jason's speech) but also very... personal.
Entering the gym, Max wandered toward Mike and Dustin. She instantly huffed as she overheard Dustin and Mike arguing about who has a better girlfriend. Of course they were.
"Look, I'm not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours." Yes, you are, Max thought. "It's just that Suzie's, like, a certified genius."
"You do realize El has saved the world twice, right?" Mike countered.
"And yet you still have a C in Spanish."
The music stopped, and over the microphone, someone screamed, "Let's hear it for our Tigers!"
The crowd cheered, but all Max could pay attention to was Lucas. He stared directly at her as he ran into the middle of the court, and she glanced away. It hurt too much to look at him, even when he waved at her.
Out of the corner of her eye, Max saw him frown.
She hated it.
If Max was going to be honest, she totally zoned out. That was until Billy was brought up.
"Think of Jack. Think of Melissa. Think of Heather. Think of Billy ."
He did not just bring up Billy. Max caught Lucas's sympathetic eyes, and she turned away from his gaze. She couldn't do this.
Max decided to zone off once again. She needed to ignore everything. Before she got hurt again. She paid attention when Dustin and Mike somehow didn't know how a tournament works. How do they not know this basic information? They really are nerds.
After lunch, Max made her way to Ms. Kelly. In the hallway, she caught a glimpse of none other than head cheerleader Chrissy Cuningham heading out of her office. That's... weird. Why was she there? Not only that, but she looked... uncomfortable, upset.
Sitting in a chair across her desk, Max listened to her Walkman. It was the last thing keeping her grounded. Music did that for her.
Ms. Kelly's muffled voice came from outside the music. "Can you remove your headphones, please?"
Taking them off her head and clicking the button, Max responded with, "Sorry."
"A 'C in English and a 'C- in Spanish," she said, clearing her throat.
"Yeah."
"Well that's not normal for you," Ms. Kelly said sadly.
"If you say so...."
"How's your mom holding up?"
Max stared at the floor. "She's fine...." She paused. "I mean, she hates the new place, which is, like, yeah, it's terrible, but... she's fine."
Max wanted anything but to be here. She'd instead be forced to go to Hellfire than have to talk about her emotions. Nevertheless, here she was. She was sharing her feelings and talking about her family life. God, she would give anything in the world to leave.
"Is she still drinking?"
Max swallowed hard. "Like, yeah, a little, but... Well, she's working two jobs. So it's not easy."
"Must not be easy for you either with your stepdad gone."
"It's kind of better, honestly."
"Better how?"
"He was an asshole. So there's less... assholery."
"Are you sleeping better?" the woman asked gently.
"Yeah, fine," she lied.
"So no more headaches?"
Max shook her head.
"Nightmares?"
Max flashed back to the one she had last night; Billy being impaled by the mindflayer, its tentacle deep inside his chest. She remembered her screams as she called his name.
"Nope."
Ms. Kelly looked at the floor. She knew. She knew Max was lying.
"Max. What you've been through, what you're still going through, it's a lot for anyone," she said as Max fumbled with her headphone cord. "And it's okay to not be okay. But I can only help you if you're truthful, if you open up to me."
"Yeah, I... I know. I'm- I'm being open."
Ms. Kelly sighed.
"I'm being open," Max repeated, though her face said otherwise. Jesus, why did she have to be such a bad liar?
She was so relieved when Ms. Kelly finally excused her.
Exiting the office, Max didn't even notice Lucas until he called her name.
"Max, hey."
Goddamnit. She wasn't in the mood to try and hold a conversation with him. "Are you stalking me or something?"
"Oh, no, I- I just wanted to give you this." He handed Max a piece of paper.
"What is this?"
"A ticket to the game."
Max turned her head towards him and rolled her eyes. Then, marching away, she became frustrated as he followed.
"Listen, I know you never want to go to my games, but this one is kind of a big deal," Lucas continued.
"A big deal?" Max scoffed. "Lucas, you really care about this?" she questioned, still walking.
"Yeah- I- I do. Maybe you should find something you care about too."
Max paused. What did he just say? She stopped, spun around, and glared.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Max saw his face turn to ' oh shit' and paused.
"You're just... It's- it's like you're not even here anymore," Lucas responded hesitantly. He looked so nervous. God, all she did was make things worse for other people. "It's... it's like you're a ghost or something."
Looking away, Max felt a wave of guilt and anger wash over her. "A ghost? Really?"
"Max, I know something's wrong," he said.
"...Yeah, right... Yeah, something must be wrong with me because I broke up with you."
Lucas shook his head. "No. That... that's not what I meant."
Max had heard enough. "Lucas, look, people just change, okay? That's it. I've changed. It's that simple." She was so annoyed. So sick of him trying to fix her or something.
Before she entered the bathroom door, Max handed Lucas the ticket back. "Good luck."
She didn't wait to see Lucas's face. As Max hurried in, she quickly pulled out her bottle of Tylenol. She desperately needed them—needed something to calm her.
Max popped down two of them. Suddenly she heard the awful sound of vomit from a stall behind her. Turning around, Max saw a cheerleader's skirt.
"Hey, are you alright?" she asked.
"Yeah- yes... I'm... I'm fine." Chrissy? Chrissy Cunningham?
"Okay, um... you're sure?"
"Please, just go away." The girl sounded awful. Still, there wasn't anything Max could do for the cheerleader. She wasn't about to snitch on her.
Sighing, Max left the dull restroom, hoping Chrissy was okay.
Max was so glad to leave school. So relieved it was Spring Break.
Earlier that day, Dustin had tried to convince her to play D'n'D with him. Hell no.
As Max climbed onto the bus, she clicked on her Walkman, and Running Up That Hill blasted through it. She found it almost therapeutic—an escape.
It blocked out the obnoxious teens who screamed and yelled in the back, which always seemed to leave her deaf.
Her mom still wasn't back once Max entered her trailer, giving her more time to herself.
Walking into her room, she plopped onto the bed and sighed. Everything seemed so bleak. The single window in Max's room offered little sunlight, leaving her in darkness. It was fitting, though. It's kind of what her world felt like at the moment. cold. Empty.
How was she going to make it through this year? Max didn't think she would. Surely something would prevent her at some point. Things weren't looking up for her. They never were.
If Max could take some more pills, she would. But she'd overdosed at school once. Max couldn't walk in a straight line, and her words slurred together. She wasn't sure how she managed not to pass out that day. No one found out about it. Thank god.
Max must've stayed on her bed for hours because the next thing she knew, it was night. Checking her clock, she realized it was eight. Lucas should be done playing his basketball game right now.
Max really didn't want to, but it felt wrong not to listen to the radio and hear the outcome. So she sat up and tuned in. Instantly, she listened to the announcer.
" After a tragic year for our town, the Tigers have brought home the conference title for the first time in twenty-two years. " Another man continued, saying, " And what a great game it was, Allen, ending with a dramatic buzzer-beater from benchwarmer Lucas Sinclair! "
Lucas?
Max couldn't listen to the rest. She wasn't about to listen to people talking about him. Turning it off, she sighed, hanging her head.
Outside, a dog started barking. The owners never fed it, so Max had decided to take on that responsibility.
"Alright, alright, I hear you."
Standing up, Max made her way out of her bedroom.
Her mom was passed out on the couch, and Max wondered when she'd arrived. How'd she not notice the sound of the front door opening? Not only that, but how didn't she hear the TV? Whatever.
Cleaning up the empty beer bottles and fetching some chicken, Max strode out the door to the dog.
A second later, Eddie's van sped into the trailer park and halted in front of his house.
He drives like he's being chased or something.
Suddenly, Max spotted none other than Chrissy Cunningham hop out the door and follow Eddie into his trailer.
It took Max a second to fully realize why she was with him, but it all made sense once she did. First, the vomiting went to Ms. Kelly, and now to his house. Chrissy was going through something, so she probably resorted to drugs.
The dog barked once more, so Max continued to feed it. Chrissy and Eddie were none of her business.
When Max finally ran out of chicken, she walked back into her trailer.
That's when something... weird happened.
The lights and TV started to go crazy, and even though she knew it was most likely a coincidence, she couldn't help but wonder... No, it couldn't be. Max didn't want to believe it.
Max heard a scream. Eddie's scream. Sprinting towards the window, she saw him slam open the front door and book it into his van.
She knew he always sped, but this was different. He looked terrified. His driving was more erratic than it usually was too.
Deep down, Max knew something was wrong. She just knew it. Still, it was none of her business. After all, she tended to overthink stuff.
As she slept, nightmares plagued her mind. It'd been nonstop for the past few days. Not only that, but these were different than the usual ones she'd been gifted with after Billy died. These were so realistic, downright terrifying.
Max knew something was wrong.
#stranger things#season 4#fanfic#max mayfield#lucas sinclair#steve harrington#robin buckley#dustin henderson#nancy wheeler#whumpblr#stranger things angst#vecna#trance#possession#steve harrington fluff#steve stranger things
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Hey just thought of something.....what if ogPenelope still blood relatives (from her mom's side or dad's side doesn't matter) and they came to look her and her mom(unaware that she passed away) over the years. They end up encountering Penelope in Eorka while she was shopping. (Note: this is a headcanon of mine)Penelope only recognized a few of them since she was only 5-6 years old when she and her mother left after her father passed away. Penelope cried tears of joy when she realized she still had blood relatives left. So here's my question: would the Duke allow Penelope to spend time with them or let her go back to them since it would actually make her happy? Though considering the Duke, Derrick, and Reynold I doubt it since they're all a**holes who don't penny to be happy.
Also just found out a interesting fact, the manhwa artist actually changed Penelope's appearance than what she was described as in the novel. "According to the novel author, Penelope has a cold, expressionless, and cat-like face. Her wavy hair is dark pink like the azalea flower colour, closer to red rather than pink, and reaches down to the level of her waists. Her green emerald eyes are almond-shaped." - found this on ogPenelope's and Cha Siyeon's wiki pages
While the manhwa has Penelope's appearance as "She has magenta hair reaching down to her hips in soft waves, and the tips on her bangs seem to be a much paler pink. Her eyes are turquoise, being a blue gradient on top with green on the bottom" like why change that?
The duke would be reluctant to let her go. He might do a full background check and inquire whether her blood relatives fullfill the financial requirements to adopt her. Do they have a criminal history? (they might have stolen food to survive) Do they have an Eorkian citizenship? (doubtful when Penelope's own mother had been a traveller). Why are they appearing now that Penelope has been taken in by a noble family? Doesn't this look opportunistic? This is a legitimate question: Where were they when Penelope was starving on the streets? Either they had no contact to Penelope's family anymore or they themselves were struggling to survive and ignoring her pleas. The last option would eliminate them as guardians in his eyes. The duke might think he would be acting in Penelope's best interest by chasing them away or buying their silence with money and convincing them that Penelope is happier with the Eckarts. Who would be more qualified to raise a child than the duchy? Their money and titles could open her any door, returning to being a commoner would limit her future prospects.
I can't see the duke saying directly no to Penelope's request and forcing her against her will to stay, but I can see him bringing up arguments that sound sensible to her ears and then making an offer like letting Penelope and her blood relatives move into the duchy together or telling her she has to wait until she is of age to decide whom to stay with and during this timespan the Eckarts would love-bomb her to the point where she would rethink her wish for independence. It's possible that they'd have to bring this issue to court (the judge would without a doubt rule in favour of the Eckarts) or that the legal paperwork to adopt her would take almost a decate. Derrick would sabotage the process by demanding new trials be made while he would try to find legal loopholes to prevent Penelope from leaving. Not saying that Derrick would consider this: but wouldn't an engagement to a noble, which is pretty much a political agreement that can't be broken easily, be a way to tie Penelope down? The Eckart brothers might try to guilt trip her: Penelope had once aimed her crossbow at a noble lady and the Eckarts had to hand their diamond mine over to said noble lady's father so that they wouldn't persecute her. How does she think is she going to pay them back? The least she could do is do her job and remain there as Ivonne's replacement. Leaving would be ungrateful of her. Leaving would "retraumatize" her adoptive father who had lost his first daughter and is now losing his second daghter. Leaving might even put a target on her back. She had angered so many nobles. The Eckarts could offer her protection but her blood relatives? You see, it'd be really hard for Penelope to break away from her abusers. They wouldn't literally chain her up but metaphorically the dukedom is a prison.
As for the changes in design. This might have to do with the artist's taste and it also gives them more freedom to pick out more colors for her dress that are matching/complimenting her appearance. Making her eyes change from turquoise to blue depending on the light and her hair a lighter magenta/pink would also empathize her resemblance to Ivonne depending on the situation. Remember when she wore that white dress and had her bangs styled differently? She almost looked similar to Ivonne there. And recently her eyes are looking a bit more blue. Maybe I'm reading a bit too much into it. But the more the Eckarts grow to love her the more she sheds her old identity, changes her looks and becomes something closer to the daughter the duke has always wanted. I don't think Penny is doing this intentionally but you can see that she used to wear black and purple (dark colors) and now she wears light pink, blue, white dresses more often.
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Hi, I’m Kelley. I’ve been a debt collector for about three and a half years now.
Disclaimer that my experience is limited to credit card debt, and my advice may or may not be relevant to debts of other kinds (medical, etc). My knowledge is also limited to United States based debt collection practices.
But if you’re American and you owe a credit card company money….let’s talk:
- First off. When we talk to you, we have to verify your identity before we can give you any details. We normally ask for the last 4 of your SSN, your date of birth, and your address. Why? Because according to the FDCPA (Fair Debt Collection Practices Act), we cannot reveal the fact that you are in debt to anyone but you (or your spouse, if you have one).
If your mom or dad or boyfriend or girlfriend calls us, we cannot give them any information. If you want us to disclose information about your debt to them, you need to call (or email) us and tell us that.
-We are required to state, verbatim, on every call: “this is an attempt to collect a debt, and any information obtained will be used for that purpose”. Yes, TECHNICALLY, if we don’t say that, you can sue us for up to $1,000. But good luck finding a collector who is that stupid lmao?! In most cases, we’re looking right at a script while we’re on the phone with you…. 🤦♀️
-We used to be able to call you 3 times a day. Per new legislation, we can only call one time every 7 days….unless you give us permission to call more often. We will ask for that permission. Do not grant it.
-If you’re being harassed by calls, try saying “I would like to be placed on your do not call list” or “I am asking you to cease and desist.” Note: this will block future calls, but it won’t stop the credit card company from suing you.
-We will ask you where you work. It is in your best interest to (politely) avoid answering this question.
-If someone stole your identity and opened a credit card in your name, file a police report. In many cases, we can’t file a fraud claim without one.
-If you don’t recognize the debt we’re talking about (i.e. “I might have opened that card but it was so long ago I don’t remember”, “I had that card but the balance you said doesn’t sound right”, etc), ask for validation of debt. Basically we would then have to send you all the credit card statements we have on file and prove that the balance is correct. Any reputable collection agency will have these statements available, so this isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card. But, we can’t make any more attempts to collect on the debt, until we confirm that you got those documents in the mail. So this is a good way to stall/buy time.
-If you’re ready to start making payment arrangements, don’t take the first offer we give you!! For example: someone owes us $1,000. I’m gonna offer them a plan of $83.33 per month for 12 months. Only after they say no, will I tell them that they also have the option to do $41.66 per month for 24 months. Why? Because I’m making commission on this shit lmao
-Ask if you qualify for a settlement. A settlement is, like, a deal, where we offer to let you pay less than you actually owe There’s normally a percentage we can’t go under. At my current job, that’s 60%. So, for example, if you owe us $100, I could offer you a settlement deal of $60, and you wouldn’t have to pay the remaining $40!
Settlements usually have to be paid as a lump sum, but sometimes you can get away with a monthly payment plan. Ask your collector.
-If you receive notification that you have been sued, call us before your hearing date and set up a payment plan voluntarily. If you let this go to court, 99.9% of the time, the judge will side with us, not you.
-Once we have judgment against you in a court of law, we can try and collect the funds involuntarily. In most cases, that means a wage garnishment. (This is why we ask where you work). We go directly to your employer and take 20-25% of your paycheck, depending on what state you live in.
Please note that yelling at your collector will not make the garnishment stop. 😭 We normally don’t file a garnishment unless you’ve been dodging our calls for years.
-Lastly, remember that collectors are people! We’re trying to make a living, just like you.
Debt collection is one of the best jobs an “unskilled” college dropout can get tbh! It pays way better than retail or food service. I get to sit at a desk, instead of standing in front of a cash register all day. And I get dental! Lol.
If you don’t verbally abuse your collector, they will normally try their best to come up with a payment plan that fits your budget. If all else fails, idk, lawyer up. 🤷♀️
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Hello!! 😊
I noticed you are interested in Garou's parents from an ask you answered where his dad pays to the dojo and his mom is more or less like an esper where she can feel when Garou is doing something stupid.
And I was wondering if you have more headcanons about his parents?
It is actually kind of rare to find anyone with any kind of interest about his family since they are barely mentionated in the manga (his dad) and Bang became more like his grandpa since he started to train with him.
Sometimes I wonder if those 2 ever wonder:
"Where the heck is my brat?"
Just to find out that he is either hunting heroes or saving a whole town from an erupting volcano. 😅
Good evening, dear mutual, and thank you for dropping an ask about my writing! <3 You reached out over the weekend, but I wasn't able to get to the ask right away... which ended up being fortuitous because the latest chapter gave us some tasty, tasty breadcrumbs about Garou's home life. I’m going to try to keep this answer spoiler free but, like much of the fandom, I didn’t get much sleep last night lately, so if you haven’t indulged in the chapter yet, you may want to wait a few days.
So, you asked about my OC’s, Hiroki and Risa, who appear in some of my stories. Although I initially used the word ‘headcanon’ but they feel a bit heavier than headcanons at this point, because I’ve crafted these characters in service of my own plot. I’ve posted excerpts from that WIP here and here. I also published a short fic about Garou and Risa (“scars”), which you can read on ao3. Since then, I’ve moved much of my OPM-content over to my sideblog, Scary-Senpai, so future excerpts/etc will be posted there, along with my usual meta. Garou’s dad will also show up very briefly in Collateral Damage, but probably a bonus chapter--Collateral Damage is mostly about Garou’s time at the dojo, and his relationship with Bang. So memories of his dad appear mostly for contrast, to illustrate what Garou seeks and why he is seeking it.
Even though these are original characters, there is plentiful psychology / storytelling technique meta that does directly relate to textual observations, so I hope y’all will join me for this bittersweet ride.
I often think about Garou’s parents and how family dynamics may have impacted his canon behavior. All my fic ideas are lovingly constructed from canon clues, and even if it isn’t canon compliant, I like to think it is always canon complicit--the spirit of the story is the same, even when the details vary. For example, I’ve never written Garou’s mother as unkind, but I have written her as burned out and exhausted--and because she is so innately compassionate, the contrast in mood is incredibly jarring, especially for a sensitive kid like Garou. This is what “scars” is about, essentially--Garou, even at five years old, is determined to grow up to be as big and strong as possible, as quickly as possible, even if it means hurting himself. In the story, Garou gets scratched while trying to pet the neighbor’s cat:
“I keep telling you,” she repeated, turning the tap on. “Momo doesn’t like it when you pet her.”
Also false. The cat always approached him, taking caresses from his hand or winding herself across his legs, tickling him.
Today, she had been very friendly (purring, even!) until she suddenly wasn’t. He hadn’t quite cracked her strange temperament yet, but he would. In the interim, though, these things would happen. He was at peace with these little casualties.
I bolded this because Risa is very much not at peace with Garou hurting himself. She doesn’t like being a bystander to his reckless behavior, especially as he gets older and the situations get more severe--it’s one thing to get into playful scraps because you don’t know any better, it’s another to seek out violence when the world is painful enough. When I think of Risa, I think of the poem “good bones” by Maggie Smith--which I didn’t include in full here, because it mentions child death, but here’s an excerpt:
Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world.
You can read the full poem here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/89897/good-bones
Anyway, Risa’s ennui encapsulates the same existential angst that Garou feels, even as a kid. Maybe it’s genetic because clinical depression certainly is. Risa’s attempts to navigate Garou’s emotions force him to think about things he’d rather bottle up and/or bypass, and that gets on his nerves. Again, even at five. This is from “scars”:
He hated everything—the pet names, her tone of voice, the necessity of help. It felt so patronizing—as if she wasn’t addressing him so much as the years between them, that vast expanse of lived experience that kept them separate, all the things he couldn’t know.
He didn’t like to feel dumb. He wasn’t dumb. That was all.
So, Garou doesn’t experience his mother’s actions as helpful--he finds her annoying, intrusive, perhaps even insensitive. Shouldn’t she be proud of him for getting stronger? That’s what Garou’s dad wants for him (which is, coincidentally, a constant source of tension between Hiroki and Risa). Going back to “scars,” Garou is so proud of himself for getting hurt but not crying, and Risa just finds his stoic reaction incredibly tragic. It worries and upsets her:
Garou looked up at his mother and saw that her cheeks were wet. He found himself furious at her for crying.
He had done everything right, hadn’t he? He wasn’t even making a fuss. He’d even kept his shirt clean. And yet here she was, tearing up, when he was doing his best to put on a brave face.
All Risa is thinking is: baby, you are five years old. You are allowed to cry. (Surprise surprise, Garou’s father thinks differently). Later, though, Garou comes to regret his harshness towards his mother.
He understands it now, being older, something he hadn’t believed at the time: it is possible to be angry for a child, on behalf of a child, and this is not the same as being mad at them, or because of them. For everything that’s coming, for all the pain that’s as good as promised, and the inevitability of wounds that will not heal. His mother had wanted to protect him, that was all. Even though she knew as well as anyone that this notion of “youthful innocence” simply wasn’t true—not in her day, not in his, and perhaps not ever. Children will see what they see.
Anyway, the OPM-verse abounds with tragic misunderstandings and sincere attempts to help that backfire stupendously, and I’ve always imagined Garou’s relationship with his parents as a continuation of that motif. Consider the type of relationship he seems to have sought out with Bang: Garou has a very specific attachment style--he prefers the sort of closeness that gives the illusion of distance, and this seems to make him feel safe.
Garou runs away hoping that someone will come after him, and he seems to ache for compliments he can boisterously refute, and for helping hands he can make a great show of refusing. He doesn’t always respond well to direct and obvious displays of affection.
Just some food for thought as we consider his interactions with loved ones.
In my longfic, Garou is from the same village as Genos an orphan--so his parents aren’t in his life, but that isn’t by choice. He narrowly survives the tragic accident that killed Hiroki and Risa, but Garou never actually confirms what happened to them. “My parents are alive but I’m dead to them” is a much more palatable narrative than “my parents died mad at me and I can’t fix it,” and he is not interested in getting corrected, why Bang is vague on the details--Garou doesn’t tell him anything. Bang just assumed that Garou had a falling-out with his family; a lot of kids do at that age. I sometimes think maybe Bang also went years without speaking to his parents, possibly decades. In any case, Bang might jump to the conclusion that Garou’s mom is not a nice person, or project his own issues on her.
In any case, I’ve become very attached to Hiroki and Risa, and I’m grateful for this ask because I can imagine an AU where they survive. I think at this time in Garou’s life, the same situation plays out differently -- Garou’s parents care about him a lot, and they’re never not thinking about him, and if they’re absent from his life right now, it’s not by choice--it’s likely because he pushed them away. It strikes me that when Cosmic Garou’s first response to Tareo’s fate is, “I got too close, and now--”
Garou is, for all his bluster, fairly insightful. He knows what he’s like, and how he gets, and how much he can (and cannot) control. This is why he seeks isolation, or so it’s always seemed to me.
Additionally, “deeply flawed people trying very hard and still failing” is a much richer narrative than “deeply flawed people who are resoundingly absent” (in my opinion, your mileage is welcome to vary! that’s what makes fandom beautiful and fun). But in my imagination, Hiroki tries to fix his family so hard that he inadvertently breaks it; Risa tries so hard to be forgiving/accepting/compassionate that she burns herself out and enables manipulative behavior, and in this way, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
As I mentioned previously, we tend to see the world as we are, rather than how it actually is, which hinders our ability to improve it. Garou’s parents are trying to be the person they need (or think they need), rather than the person their child needs (or thinks he needs), and if that wasn’t enough, all these ideals often find themselves at odds with one another.
Hiroki thinks Garou needs to get stronger; what Garou needs is a sensitive male role model to show that kindness, emotion, etc aren’t the same as weakness. But Hiroki isn’t strong, he’s just playing at it--which Garou picks up on, and ultimately drives him to Bang. Both Garou and Hiroki express fear/sadness/anxiety as anger, because that’s what feels more acceptable & palatable to them. Risa is forever trying to mediate between them, when she needs to encourage boundary setting.
To make matters worse, their family situation is complicated: Hiroki and Risa, were very, very young when Garou was born (18/19), and this was much, much earlier than they ever expected to get married, let alone have kids. They don’t regret having Garou, but it does change their lives a bit: Garou’s mom doesn’t finish high school, his dad drops out of college. This is what would have happened, I think, even if Garou hadn’t been born, but Garou perceives this as his fault. Which is a shame, because I think Hiroki loves kids and, because of Garou, discovers the one thing he wanted in life was to be a dad.
Hiroki likes anything Garou likes. This includes bugs, martial arts, cartoons and Christmas werewolves. I have a very fierce headcanon that Garou wants to make Christmas werewolves a thing again. Hiroki always puts up the Christmas werewolves, whether or not Garou is there with him.
So, to answer your question, “how would Garou’s parents react to seeing him on TV?” Ah, well, depends--I don’t think Hiroki would recognize him physically in monster form (although maybe Cosmic Garou, from the posture), but he knows what Fist of Flowing Water Crushed Rock looks like, and (more importantly) he knows what it looks like when Garou uses it, and he also his son has been in a Monster Phase for 10+ years, so he’s got a pretty good hunch about what’s happening.
If Garou got a job at the Hero Association, I think Hiroki would be proud of him and unilaterally supportive. I also think he’d have a hard time knowing how to respond if Garou has trouble adjusting to his new role as seemed to have been foreshadowed. I imagine the conversation would go something like, “hey, kiddo, do you want me to point out that I know you know you are struggling? or do you want me to smile and nod and pretend that everything’s fine? because I can do that! that is also my default. I could also yell at the secretary for you, would that help?”
...In a worst case scenario, Hiroki and Garou haven’t fully reconciled and gotten over their rough patch, Hiroki figures Garou doesn’t want to see him and Garou assumes the same--even if it isn’t true. Hiroki stays supportive from the shadows-- if Garou’s got Hero merch, Hiroki will buy it. He won’t buy a whole shipment of shoddy key-chains, as Genos does for Saitama, but he’s got a few sensible pieces that he casually shows off.
... which means that Garou ends up in the public eye, this is probably what circumspectly causes them to reconcile, because Hiroki can’t shut up about him. When Hiroki meets people, Garou is the first thing he talks about--even if it’s unrelated. “I have a keychain with my son on it,” Hiroki mentions offhandedly, smiling a little. “Ain’t the world a weird fucking place? Putting people’s faces on coffee mugs...” Which prompts whomever to ask, “oh, what does your son do? Is he a movie star? He’s very handsome.” “No, he’s a hero...”
So, cut to Garou, who will occasionally run into people who have also met his dad. “Oh, you’re Hiroki’s son,” they say. “He talks about you constantly.” at which point, Garou responds, “uhh... sorry, he does what now? he talks... to people? sorry, I think you got the wrong guy, my dad is kind of an ass.” but by the fifth or sixth time this happens, Garou works up the courage to ask a follow-up question (”so... when he talks about me, what does he say?”), and he’s pleasantly surprised (but disproportionately anxious) to find it’s all good things. Perceptive people will hint, “your dad seems to really miss you.” But it takes Saitama flat out chasing Garou down and shaking him. "Call your goddamn dad!” Saitama shouts. “He’s miserable. And for the last time, stop breaking into my house to pet my dog.”
As for Risa, she’s just glad Garou’s alive. As I mentioned, she’s a bit of an esper--but because she never cultivates her sixth sense, her telepathy only activates under duress (like slowing Garou’s descent if he falls out of a tree, or steadying his bike if he hits a pothole), and her premonitions are vague and fuzzy.
Speaking of premonitions, she’s had this sinking sensation that she would “lose her son” before he reaches adolescence--specifically, at whatever age Garou eventually leaves home to train full time (in my fic he’s 10/11, in canon he’s probably more like 13/14), she tries to imagine their future lives at that point and and she just gets a...black spot. A furious and painful absence. She’s terrified that this means that Garou is going to die, and that she’ll outlive him. So she’s actually a bit relieved to know he’s just leaving home and maybe also having an ego death, which is fine.
She calls Garou regularly while he’s at the dojo. On a bad day, Garou is completely drained and doesn’t have the energy to pick up. Also, questions like, “how are you?” / “how’s it going?” terrify Garou, because the answer is almost always “It’s going poorly, I feel like shit and I don’t know why.” If he tries to articulate this, his feelings of sadness always manifest as sass and frustration, which understandably upset Risa, which in turn annoys Garou, and the conversation spirals out of control.
...Even so, Garou is always reassured when Risa calls (even when he doesn’t pick up). Risa senses that he’s on the other line, watching the phone ring without the intention to answer--and if she texts, he always leaves her on ‘read’--and all this really, really hurts her. She stops calling as much. This hurts Garou. He doesn’t say anything. It’s all very sad.
Shortly after Garou moves out, Risa dreams about Bang. Even though she’s never met him in person, or seen current pictures (the ones in circulation are several decades old, that’s on purpose), her visualization is strikingly accurate. “I made a mistake,” she tells him. “I need my son back.” “I see,” Bang says, thoughtfully rubbing his moustache. “If I return him now, you might actually lose him. Are you willing to wait eight years?” (or, again, however many years he spends training). She thinks for a moment and decides this is acceptable. They shake hands as Bang reassures her, “When he is ready, he’ll find a way of telling you. Please don’t take offense, everyone is insufferable at that age. Trust an old man who knows.”
Anyway, one morning she gets a feeling that she should treat herself to breakfast at a diner, the one with a television, even though she can’t normally concentrate with the news running in the background. She recognizes Garou right away, even in monster form. Tatsumaki’s attack takes down several cell phone towers, nobody’s at the dojo, and public transit is an absolute shit-show, so she can’t reach him immediately. Garou’s dad would probably bike or hitchhike or just fucking walk, but at this point he’s still the wrong kind of stubborn. In any case, this delay allows some time for news to trickle in--specifically, Garou’s job offer.
Risa is happy for Garous’ new career, but not thrilled. He’s only 18, and she still wants him to be a kid. He’s already been through so much, and had to grow up so fast. She hints that he might want to consider taking a year off or so, which he balks at. She lets him be.
In my fic, there are grassroots groups taking a preventative (and nonviolent) approach to monsters and mysterious creatures, and Risa would be actively involved with them. She’d want more for Garou than being a hero--arguing that his real strength is his kindness and intelligence, and given his experience, he has what it takes to cut the problem off at the root (since it’s implied monsterization is at least a bit of a public health/environmental health issue), but she doesn’t push it.
Essentially, Risa is like a hippie parent whose child goes to work for a hip/prestigious “socially conscious” consulting firm. My themesong for her is “wondering where the lions are.” She’s cautiously optimistic of the HA but also suspicious. Even a mission driven company is still a company, she reminds him. At the end of the day, you’re a cog to them and you need to look out for yourself.
In the past, I described Risa as weak but as I sit with her, I don’t think that’s true. She’s actually the strongest one in the family (because she’s the one quietly holding the universe together), and she also grows the most. She learns to set firm boundaries. I joke that Garou specifically mentions “free advice” to Tareo because if he doesn’t like you, he will invoice you for his thoughts. That is actually something Risa starts to do--the older she gets, the more she runs out of fucks, and if work keeps her up at night or detracts from Me-Time / Family-Time, you bet your ass those are billable hours.
I really like seeing Risa get bolder and sassier as she gets older, and I think this directness is something that Garou more willingly responds to...I also suspect she learned it from him.
When I think of Risa, I think of a quote from Swami Satchidananda: if you have to be selfish about anything, be selfish about your inner peace. (This comes from his translation of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras). So, Risa is selfish in a way that women (particularly mothers) aren’t allowed to be...and I think this causes some tension with Hiroki, not because he expects a Stepford wife, but because he has a very specific visual of what success looks like, and he can’t articulate it well. Risa, like Garou, incorrigibly questions rules and authority, so when Hiroki insists “Everyone is home for dinner at 6pm because I said so,” they don’t respond well. “We should spend time together every day because you’re important to me,” would go over better, but Hiroki can’t say that yet. He ends up begrudgingly doing most of the housework.
There are dishes in the sink because fuck it, Risa needs a nice long bath so that she can think up a bedtime story for Garou, one that is exactly the right amount of scary so he’ll be interested but not awake all night. They’re just pots and pans--it’s not like he’s going to bed hungry or anything. Also--dinner hacks that result in less cooking? Risa is here for it. “What’s the point of being an adult if I can’t add Nutella and Wonderbread to my charcuterie? I don’t feel like cooking and I am certainly not making a second dinner for my toddler, because I need all my energy for Date Night.” You know, she’s trying to put more energy into being fun: “Yes, I packed macaroni and cheese for lunch again but this time it’s blue and that, my love, is called winning. WHIMSY IS WHAT GROWING UP IS ABOUT, GODDAMMIT--you get to make your own rules now which is why we’ve had pancakes for dinner every night this week.” She’s trying so hard, you guys.
So maybe you can see how Garou’s so-called “whimsical kindness” (which iirc are the words Murata used for him) might a manifestation of two contrasting parenting styles but also probably mood swings.
#one punch man#opm meta#opm fanfic#garou#garou opm#garou headcanons#headcanons#i asked my brain to produce serotonin and all i got were these stupid headcanons#my writing#wilf#(work I'd like to finish)#imperfect creatures#asks#splendiferous mutuals
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