#( like cutting onions while singing )

[behaein]

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — INTO THE DELTAVERSE. aka, haein's audition for INTO THE DELTAVERSE (rough ref.) / skills: singing, dancing (original choreography)

knowing studio delta and their reputation, haein realized that she can't possibly get away with a normal audition tape. she's aware that they're probably looking for something different. someone who catches their eyes immediately. a couple of months ago, she would have been confident that she fit into that category, but she wasn't so sure anymore.

of course, that wouldn't stop her from joining this audition, especially not after all the encouragement she received from her peers at the dance and vocal academies she's been religiously attending. some may think she's appearing too desperate with how many doors she's knocking on, but she likes to call it determination. she doesn't care how many opportunities she has to take up, but she will accomplish what she came to korea for.

eventually, she settles down on an original choreography. again, she contemplated on this because the reps at studio delta most likely have seen her dancing from next gen. it was impossible they couldn't since they were part of the judging panel. however, this was an audition tape which meant at the end of the day, she had to show off what she was best at, and that was still dancing. the original choreography is just her own little twist to show off her skills and what she can bring to the table.

she finishes one draft of the audition tape and almost submits it when she thinks that something's missing. it doesn't seem like enough, so she impulsively heads down to the han river with a video camera. it's the middle of day, which means lots of people, but she's not concerned about that right now. what she needs is an impressive video.

and so she sings the track live along with the choreography that she's made. another chance to show that she isn't a weak vocalist because as much as she's over the humiliation of her voice crack, it's still something that needs to be proven to those who watched next gen and definitely something that'll probably continue to follow her until that day.

by the time she's done with her second draft, haein feels much better. this video and everything just feels a lot more like her. hopefully, whomever watches the video agrees.

[adrienneleclerc]

Bitch, Whats For Dinner?

Pairing: Lando Norris x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Lando sees an old TikTok resurfacing and decides to prank his girlfriend for a quadrant video.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: this was originally going to be a Logan Sargeant fic but then I thought “what does he have to gain from this?” So I switched to Lando.

Since it was summer break, Lando decided it was time to film a video for Quadrant. He went to his gaming room to film the beginning.

“Since I am not racing for another few weeks, I thought what better time to prank my lovely girlfriend than today. There’s this TikTok posted by Dusten Conti where he says to his girlfriend ‘bitch, what’s for dinner?’ And his girlfriend actually answers him so sweetly. Knowing my girlfriend, she will not act so sweetly to me calling her a bitch, but I want to know how she reacts.” Lando said.

Y/N was out grocery shopping for dinner so Lando hid a video camera on a shelf, pointing the camera to the kitchen. She came home 10 minutes later and Lando decided to wait until he heard music playing because that means Y/N is on the preparation stage of cooking (chopping ingredients). Lando got out of his gaming room, observing Y/N chopping onions and tomatoes on the cutting board, singing along to whatever song she was playing. Lando made eye contact with the camera before saying the words..

“Bitch, what’s for dinner.” Lando said. Y/N put the knife down and looked around the apartment. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to see if there’s another person I don’t know about because I KNOW you did NOT just call me a bitch.” Y/N responded and picked up the knife. “So leave, come back, and try that again.” Y/N said, moving the knife as she talked. Lando did just that.

“What’s for dinner, baby girl?” Lando asked and Y/N smiled.

“That’s much better, fresita. I’m making bistec encebollado, It’s steak sautéed in onions and tomatoes with white rice. We can add a fried egg to it and make it ‘a lo pobre’ if you want, that’s how I’m eating it.” Y/N said. Lando hugged her from behind.

“I love you, baby girl.” Lando said.

“I love you too, mi vida, now why the fuck did you call me a bitch?” Y/N asked. Lando unwrapped his arms from her.

“I wanted to prank you for a quadrant video. Honestly, I expected you to react so much worse.” Lando said and Y/N turned to look at him.

“What do you take me for? I’m not a violent person, love.” Y/N said.

“Uh huh, I’ll believe you when you stop taking notes while watching true crime documentaries.” Lando said. Y/N hit him with a dish towel, causing Lando to laugh. “In all seriousness, if I ever end up calling you a bitch and it’s not a prank, I’ll give you full permission to kill me.”

“There are research chemicals that don’t show up in a toxicology screen. They’re the chemical cousins of drugs and since the molecules are modified, they don’t show up on tox screens unless you know what you’re looking for.” Y/N said with an innocent smile while Lando looks slightly terrified.

“You scare me.” Lando admitted.

“As I should. But I hate needles so I wouldn’t kill you like that.” Y/N said, turning back to resume chopping the vegetables.

“How would you kill me then?!?” Lando asked.

“Let it go, baby.” Y/N said. Lando went to the shelf and stopped the video from recording, placing it in his gaming room to charge,

After dinner, Lando and Y/N went to the gaming room to film the end.

“Thanks for watching, I just found out I am dating a psychopath.” Lando said and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Please, anyone who has seen Criminal Minds would know about research chemicals and you literally gave me permission to kill you.” Y/N said.

“I didn’t know you actually thought about ways to kill someone!” Lando exclaimed.

“But now you know to never call me a bitch so, lesson learned.” Y/N said. Both said “bye” and waved to the camera. After transferring the video clips to his computer, editing the clips and posted it on the quadrant channel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[polly-pocket13]

ramen

katsuki bakugou x reader

It was 1 am in the morning, when you were standing in a pajama and with your headphones on in the kitchen. Currently, you were cutting spring onions for your ramen while you were singing along to a song. 

All because you previously overslept dinner with your classmates. You were so tired from your workout after school that you felt asleep at 7 pm and woke up six hours later, pretty hungry. That's why you're in the kitchen at one in the morning making ramen.

The next thing you did was cut your finger because you weren't paying attention when you chopped the ingredients.

“Ah, shit.” you cursed quietly. 

“It surprises me that this took so long.” you quietly heard Bakugous voice behind you.

You turned around and looked confused at Bakugou who was standing at the door. You put down your headphones and asked him, “What do you mean, and why are you awake at 2 am?” 

“Firstly, I could ask you the same question, so why are awake at 2 am, dancing, singing in the kitchen and making ramen? Secondly, the way you're cutting things is terrifying, so it's a surprise that you cut your finger now and not earlier. You can be happy that you just cut your finger and nothing else happened.” he told you. 

“Tzz, Dickhead. I am hungry, that's the reason, I am making ramens. And my cutting isn't terrifying.” you said and held your finger under running cold water.

You blushed.

How long he has been watching you?

“Show me your finger.” he said.

He was now standing behind you.

“It isn't that bad.” you said, turned around to him and showed your best friend your finger.

He covered your cut with a band-aid.  You had goose bumps everywhere because he was so close.

You had a crush on your best friend Bakugou since the middle school, but you know he doesn't feel the same way for you.

This is the reason why you wouldn't ever reveal your feelings to him.

“Thank you.” you said and walked to the countertop, and slowly started to cut the ingredients for your ramen again.

“Like I said, terrifying.” he told you again and got behind you. “Let me help you.” he said and laid his hand on yours and helped you to cut your ingredients. 

To be honest, only he was cutting the ingredients, and you just tried to breathe and also held the knife as he was so fucking close to you. 

You could feel his breath on your neck. 

“See, not that hard.” he told you as he finished cutting all the ingredients. 

You said, “I could do it myself.”

“Sure, you could. But maybe you would have lost a finger.” he said and smirked.

You turned around so that you could look him in the eyes. His face was really close to yours.  “Shut up, Kacchan. Sometimes, you are a Jerk.” you mumbled. 

“Being a Jerk is a full-time job.” he only said and moved even closer to you.

What the fuck is he doing.

“You didn't tell me why you are awake at 1 am.” you said and tried to win some space, what didn't work out. “Couldn't sleep, there was someone on my mind.” he answered and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Who?” you asked. 

“Sometimes you are really dumb, nerd.” he said and closed the space between your lips.

Maybe it was fate that you overslept the dinner.

a/n: I'm not sure if I really like it, maybe I'll delete it later on.

[moonstruckme]

hello!

could you possibly write gender neutral reader x remus lupin? the scenario is up to you!

Thanks for requesting lovely! And for being patient while I waited for an idea to come about haha <3

Remus Lupin x gn!reader ♡ 650 words

“Oh my god,” you laugh, hand covering your mouth. “Are you okay?” 

Remus wipes his face with a sleeve, but his eyes remain glossy. “Fine.”

“Do you want me to handle the onions?” 

“No, it’s alright.” Another tear blinks out of his eye. “Better me than you.” 

You make a face but go back to your task, preparing the pot of spices Remus’ onions will be going into. “Onions don’t affect me as badly as that.” You grab chili pepper from the pantry, shaking it into a measuring cup. “I think your eyes are just sensitive and delicate.” 

Remus chuckles. “I think my eyes are offended.” 

“No, no.” You take his face in hand on your way past, kissing his salty cheek. “I love that you’re sensitive and delicate.”

“I thought we were only talking about my eyes. Now all of me is sensitive and delicate?” 

You hum as you flit between your recipe and the pantry, half dancing to the tinny, trumpety music playing through your stereo. Louis Armstrong sings about a world where roses bloom, and you spin on the ball of your foot, sliding towards the stove. 

“Darling.” Remus’ voice is amused, but it carries a warning. 

You hum lightly. 

“What is that sound I keep hearing?” 

You stop halfway back to the pantry, socks skidding to a halt. “Nothing. I’m getting ingredients.” 

“It doesn’t sound like you’re walking to get them.” 

“Mind your onions,” you tell him, smiling to yourself as you grab what you need from the pantry. You’re perhaps testing your boyfriend’s limits a tad when you decide to skate back to the counter, but it’s still a surprise when he turns around, catching the strings of your apron as you go by. 

You grin at him, delighted, and Remus’ lips turn up at the corners. 

“I’m not sensitive and delicate,” he says. 

“No,” you allow. “More sensitive than delicate, I suppose.” 

Remus lifts a brow, but you can tell he’s repressing a smile. He secretly loves when you get contrary for his entertainment. 

“How did you manage to get something on your face already?” He touches a finger to your cheek. Licks it. “What is that, garlic powder?” 

“No. That was hot, was what it was.” 

It appears his smile is no longer repressible. “What’d you do?” 

“Why do you assume I did something? The oil spat at me, and there was garlic powder in it.” 

Remus’ brows pinch with genuine concern. “Oh. Sweetheart, doesn’t that hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it did, a little. “Not really. I’m too accustomed to kitchen incidents.” 

“I know.” He adjusts his grip on your apron, using it to draw you closer to him. “That’s why I got you this. You don’t need to run around to get things, you know. The stuff on the stove will be fine.” 

You grin at him. “I’m just a very dedicated cook.” 

“You’re absurd.” 

“You love it.” 

“I really do,” Remus replies, sincerity warm in his tone. 

It catches you a bit off guard. You’d been in a mood for badinage, but now your boyfriend’s expression is all gentle adoration and your heart feels like it might be speeding up. 

You stay still while he brings his mouth to yours, submerging you in a slow, sweet kiss. The air smells like spices and you can hear the oil beginning to pop again on the stove, but Remus kisses you like he has all night to do it. 

He nudges your nose with his, putting a whisper of space between your lips. “We should switch, actually.” 

Your brain is a haze of smells and tastes, but you find a knife being pressed into your hand and then Remus is positioning you in front of his cutting board and giving your hip a pat before he walks away. 

“I need you in one place, or you’re going to break your neck.” 

[incorrectbatfam]

It's movie night but they can't use the home cinema, what do they do?

[week 1]

Bruce: Thanks for letting us use your place for movie night while we fix that leak at home.

Dick: No problem. Besides, I have plenty of snacks and the director's cut of Dumbo.

Everyone: *gathers around*

Dick: *puts on the movie*

~ 10 minutes in ~

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*

Tim: My crime alert's going off.

Harper: Mine too.

Duke: Must be big.

Bruce: Suit up and rendezvous in three.

Dick: *sighs and pauses the movie*

Dick: Can't get one night in this damn city.

———————

[week 2]

Tim: Steph, why are we at a karaoke lounge?

Steph: I know the owner's cousin's hairdresser's dog walker's sister's girlfriend and I convinced them to let us use the party room. Don't worry, it's just like a TV screen.

Steph: *puts on Pitch Perfect*

Steph: Ooh, I love this part.

Steph: *grabs a mic and starts singing*

Everyone:

Damian: *stuffs napkins in his ears*

———————

[week 3]

Jason: Since we decided on Pride and Prejudice, I thought I could play it at my safehouse.

Dick: Sweet, thanks!

Jason: *unlocks the door*

Dick: *tries to step in*

Jason: *stops him*

Jason: I said I could play it. I never said you could come in. I don't want your you-ness all over my new stuff.

Bruce: Jason, be reasonable.

Harper: Yeah, you got this junk off the side of the road.

Jason: My junk, my rules.

Tim: Then what are we supposed to do?

Jason: Fire escape's around the back. You'll get a decent glance.

~ 20 minutes later ~

Dick: *leans his head in to hear better*

Jason: My air, my rules.

Jason: *closes the window*

———————

[week 4]

Bruce: Cass, it's your turn. Got the movie?

Cass: *nods and plays Rambo on her computer*

Barbara: Uh, why isn't there any sound?

Cass: Volume button broke. Just read lips.

Jason: Kinda hard to do that with the brightness at zero. Did that stop working too?

Duke: Looks fine to me.

Jason: Shut up, Flashlight.

———————

[week 5]

Tim: I brought my entire Star Wars collection.

Bruce, dodging a space laser: Not the time.

Tim: Okay.

Bruce: *punches an alien robot*

Tim: How about now?

———————

[week 6]

Barbara: Sorry I got a cold, but at least we can still have movie night on Zoom. I torrented a copy of The Matrix.

Barbara: *shares her screen*

*movie plays*

Barbara: *leaves herself unmuted*

Barbara: *starts crinkling Sun Chips*

———————

[week 7]

Everyone: *crowd around Damian's phone watching My Neighbor Totoro*

Bette: Why is your phone so small?

Damian: I have tiny hands.

———————

[week 8]

Harper: Because we're watching Cars this week, I thought I could put together an all-immersive experience.

Bruce: BY LOCKING US IN A RUNAWAY SEMI-TRUCK?!?

———————

[week 9]

Duke: I called this company and since we're heroes, they're letting us use their electronic billboard for this week's movie at a huge discount. Kill Bill should be coming on right about...

*movie starts playing*

Jason: Not bad, Narrows.

*billboard switches to an ad*

———————

[week 10]

Carrie: Since Steamboat Willie is now public domain, I thought we could do something different tonight.

Carrie: *pulls out a flipbook*

———————

[week 11]

Everyone: *watching Love, Simon in a dark living room*

*lights flick on*

Apollo and Midnighter: *standing there in date night outfits*

Steph: Um, Cullen, who are these guys?

Cullen: *laughs nervously*

Cullen: Everyone, meet Apollo and Midnighter. They're kinda-sorta my gay uncles and we're kinda-sorta in their apartment and I kinda-sorta didn't expect them to come back early.

Midnighter: Remind me why we gave you a spare key?

———————

[week 12]

Kate: *sets up a projector and plays Glass Onion*

Bruce: Kate, this is a crime scene.

Kate: The fun part's already done, let Gordon do cleanup this time.

———————

[week 13]

Alfred: Back in my day, we did not rely on scrupulous use of technology. Which is why I propose watching a classic Sherlock Holmes tale on a classic instrument.

Alfred: *pulls out a zoetrope*

Steph: Anyone know what that is?

Dick: Not a clue.

———————

[week 14]

Luke: Nothing like a good ol' drive-in movie. Great idea, Helena.

Helena: I know, and the Godfather is perfect for this.

*Batmobile crashes through the screen*

Steph: Sorry we're late.

Duke: I'm still figuring out the PRINDL.

———————

[week 15]

*TV playing the Aristocats*

Bruce, trying to flirt: I like what you've done with the curtains.

Selina: Thanks, but it was Snowball's after-dinner surprise.

*TV blinks off*

Tim: Hey, what gives?

Selina: *takes a chewed-up cord out of a cat's mouth*

Selina, sighing: This is why I married rich.

———————

[week 16]

Luke: May I present the ultimate Snakes On A Plane drone show!

*phone rings*

Luke: Hello? ... Yes, this is he. ... Mhm. ... Yep. ... Okay.

Luke: Never mind, the FAA says I can't.

———————

[week 17]

Everyone: *watching Legally Blonde at Bette's place*

*dogs barking*

*sirens*

*loud music*

*car honk*

*neighbors shouting*

Bette: Sorry, we have thin walls.

Bruce, shrugging: Eh, still not as bad as HOA.

———————

[week 18]

Damian: Where is movie night this time, Father?

Barbara: My money's on another crime scene.

Bruce: Actually, I rented out the theater just for us and they're playing a special edition of The Mark of Zorro. Everyone got their snacks?

Duke: Popcorn, check.

Cass: Licorice, check.

Steph: M&Ms are obviously the right answer by the way.

Dick: I got a slushee.

Jason: I got the slushee machine.

Bruce: Alright then, take your seats. The movie's about to begin.

*movie plays*

*Rogues break in, make a mess, and leave*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: I miss my parents.

[femscottlang]

Kinktober Week One- Formal Wear with Emily Prentiss

Summary- Every year around New Years Rossi hosts a party at this mansion. Every year you help him cook. Every year you all drink too much wine. This year Emily Prentiss wore a suit.

Word count- 1.3k

Warnings- 18+ MDNI, a little bit of exhibitionism if you squint, Oral R! receiving, lil bit of faceriding, fingering, switch! Reader, switch! Emily, sorry about your wine Rossi my bad, Emily in a suit is a warning in itself. 

Authors Note- This is my first time doing kinktober!! I feel like formal wear/ team party is a pretty popular trope when it comes to CM fanfics, but it's popular for a reason. It’s SO GOOD. part two of flustered is coming i promise !! i'm also working on a second part of red blue and black. Anyways, back to Emily.

You had arrived early to help Rossi set up and to be his sous chef, since you were the only one besides hotch he trusted not to cut your own fingers off. The BAU were not known for their cooking abilities. He insisted on everyone coming in formal attire so now you were stuck cutting onions in a raspberry-coloured satin dress and an apron that had “Kiss me I’m Italian.” in large font. You used the back of your hand to brush your hair out of your face, huffing as you prayed that the low ponytail wouldn’t ruin your hair.

You and Rossi were sat at the kitchen table sipping scotch while you waited for the rest of the people to arrive. He cleared his throat “So.” 

“So?” you asked, turning towards him and tilting your head.

“What’s going on between you and Prentiss?” he asked in a sinister tone, leaning towards you. 

“Okay, we are not doing this” you laughed, shaking your head as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Doing what? You can’t have that much tension with a coworker when you work with profilers. You can’t get away with anything” he chucked, taking a sip of scotch.

“I can’t argue with that, but there's nothing going on between us” You explained with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I don’t believe you.” He said in a sing-songy tone as people started to file in and make their way to you and Rossi. The glass of scotch made your insides feel warm and allowed you to relax. That was until Emily Prentiss walked in. She had one hand in her pocket and her phone in the other. She was wearing slacks, a white button-up with the top 4 buttons undone, an untied tie tucked under her collar, and a blazer. You felt JJ use her knuckle to close your mouth, not realizing you had let your mouth fall open at the sight of her. You smiled nervously at JJ “You didn’t see anything” you joked, waving a finger at her. 

“I won’t tattle on you,” she said with a grin, putting her hands up in defense. 

Prentiss looked around the room before she saw you. She gave a lopsided grin before making her way over to you, brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek, “Happy New Year” She said, only loud enough for you to hear. A completely normal greeting should not feel so private and intimate. Your breath hitched as she placed her hand on your back  “Happy New Year, Emily” You murmured, leaning back into her touch. 

“Alright, Dinner!” Rossi said, snapping you two out of your little world. 

You got off the barstool and went to the dining room with Emily not far behind you. She pulled out your chair for you as you sat down, looking up at her with a raised brow and upturned lips. “I guess chivalry isn’t dead” You joked, adjusting the skirt of your dress. She pulled out the chair to the left of you and sat down. “It will be by the end of the night,” She said, giving you a mischievous grin. You gasped, smacking her leg playfully which led to her grabbing your wrist under the table and placing it on your lap “Behave” she said, patting your knee before resting her hand right above it. 

You scoffed “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge” you hummed before taking a bite of the meal you helped prepare, moaning at the taste. She leaned over to whisper in your ear, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I know what you’re doing. We can play this game but I will win” She whispered, moving her attention back to her plate of food. 

At the beginning of the meal, she would rub your knee, occasionally moving her hand up before putting it right back down to a more appropriate position. That was until after a couple of glasses of red wine. Her hand started to rest further and further up, before earning a subtle smack from you. She chuckled, pouring the last of the bottle into your glass. 

Rossi went to get up before Emily motioned for him to sit back down “I can go get it, it’s no problem.” she said with a polite smile before looking down at you “Will you show me where it is?” she asked, feigning innocence, but you knew better. You sneered at her “Of course” You said, getting up and leading her toward his wine cellar in the basement. The farther away you were from the rest of the team, the closer she got to you. 

“I love this view” she teased, making you cover your backside with your hands “Aww don’t cover up. I’ve seen you much more vulnerable than this” She murmured.

“You are an insatiable woman, do you know that?” you chuckled, shaking your head as you opened the door to the wine cellar. You walked in and began looking around for another bottle. She made her way in front of you and backed you into the table in the middle of the stone room. You reached out and grabbed her blazer to encourage her to get closer. She traced your bottom lip with her thumb before kissing you, gripping your hair, and running her hand up and down your back. She was holding onto you like you would run away if she let go, but her kisses were gentle. Emily was always so gentle. Not because she was afraid to break you, but more like you were visiting her from the clouds. Touching you with the fear that her lips would go right through you. “Up,” she murmured, helping you as you jumped in order to sit on the table. You could feel the cold stone underneath you in stark contrast to her burning hands moving to hoist your dress up to your hips. 

 Her lips moved down your neck, leaving bite marks that you were scared to walk out of there with as her hands moved further up until she reached your core. When she felt that there was nothing between her fingers and your pussy she let out a groan, leaning her head back “Fuck. I must’ve been a saint in my last life.” 

You let out a breathy moan “I didn’t want any lines showing through my dress” You said defensively, gasping as her middle finger circled your clit. You held on to her blazer, burying your face in her neck “Sure, that’s the only reason you have no panties on” she teased before dropping down to her knees, her face centimetres away from your core. You couldn’t help but admire the view, brushing your fingers through her hair as she dragged her tongue lazily up your slit. You gasped, eyes rolling back as you leaned back on your elbow to watch her "If I knew you were wearing a suit, I wouldn't've worn anything"

“Fuck, really? God, you’re so pretty like this.” She hummed, tilting her head “It’s nice to see you put that snarky mouth to use,” You responded as pulled her hair gently, just enough to hold her still as you moved your hips against her face. 

She whimpered, running her hands up and down your legs before gripping your calves to lean in more. You covered your mouth as you felt your high approach, pushing her face impossibly closer. You fell back against the table as she helped you ride out your climax. Your chest heaved, trying to push her away when she didn’t stop “Em please,” you begged, squirming away from her, but she just pulled you back towards her.

She had mercy and stood up, moving to the other side of the table to plant kisses all over your face. “C’mon. We’ve been gone too long” she said, helping you stand and smoothing out your dress. You took off your heels out of fear of falling over after she made your legs practically jelly. "After this, were are going back to my place and I am going to fuck you in this fucking suit of yours." you pushed your heels into her chest for her to carry before grabbing her collar and pulling her out of the room "I have to wear this more often..." She muttered as the two of you made your way back to the dining room where your coworkers sat with smirks on their faces.

“Nothing between you too my ass,” Rossi scoffed "You forgot the wine."

[chaescx]

Cooking with Illit (🎀)

Pairing: Illit x 6th member reader

Note: fluff, Maknae reader

YUNAH

— Protective mom

— Would help you do things like chopping onions, bell peppers basically anything just to avoid you getting cuts.

— Feeds you food to taste it in the process of cooking.

— Pats your head or praises you for everything you do

—

“Ahhh” you screamed and held your finger pouting as you stared at the blood dripping from it.

Yunah’s head immediately shot up at your scream.

She dropped whatever she was doing and rushed towards you, concern written all over her face.

“YN-nie is everything all right?” She asked making her way towards you but stopped as soon as she saw your bleeding finger.

“Oh my…you’re bleeding” she said and grabbed a wet tissue using it to wipe the blood away.

She treated your wound gently and softly but still whines and groans were heard. She was mumbling soothing words to you just to calm you down.

After treating your wound she rapped it with a bandage and held your hands to lead you to the kitchen island setting you down on the seat.

She went back to cooking but was occasionally checking up on you or glancing at you. She’d also come to give you a taste of the food patting your head softly.

MINJU

— Jokes everywhere

— Will make a Tik tok video with you using memes sound

— Takes a selfies every minute

—

“Ah YN let’s do this Tik tok!”, “let’s film another one”, “let’s do this one pretty please” minju would sing in your ears.

“I don’t know which one to upload.” She said placing a hand on her hips while her free hand was under her jaw imitating a thinking manner.

“Umm why don’t you just upload everything?” You suggested shrugging your shoulders as you stared up at her.

Minju snapped her fingers. “You’re such a genius child” she pats your head pressing the upload button on all the drafts.

“YN pose!” She said as she also posed. The timer ended and the lights flashed meaning the photo had already been taken.

Everything you and minju did she never forgot to take a photo.

MOKA

— By far a better cook than you

— Supportive mom

— Takes adorable picture of you.

—

“Unnie let’s make sushi!” You exclaimed after a while of you and moka thinking of what to cook.

“Sushi? Sure why not” she replied getting all the ingredients and equipments needed.

After the rice had boiled moka placed it on the seaweed sheet which was on top of the bamboo Mat.

You stopped her before she could roll it. “Ah Unnie can I please roll it?” You pleased your hands clasped together as you gave her adorable puppy eyes.

“Uh sure” she responded moving out of the way and letting you roll the sushi.

Moka brought out her phone to take photos and videos of you. “Good job (Y/N) you’re doing great!” She would shower you with praises for every single thing you achieved.

“You look so adorable” she complimented you for the 100th time.

WONHEE

— Clumsy Unnie

— sometimes burns the food

— Panics if she does something wrong

—

Wonhee was busy talking to the camera while you were at the back.

You smelt something strange causing you to sniff the air. “Oh my, I think something is burning…” you mumbled to yourself.

Moving closer to Wonhee you tugged her clothe lightly. “Unnie I think something is burning” you said nervously causing her to realize and jumped always from the camera.

She panicked as she stared at the now burnt pancakes on the frying pan.

“Oh my God what do I do..” she bit her nails thinking to herself.

IROHA

— waits quietly for you to give her the food and the recipe

— Would cook her favorite dishes for you if there’s nothing to cook

— Adores you to death

—

“Unnie I’m so hungryyy but I don’t know what to cook” you pouted holding onto her arm.

“How about tiramisu?” She suggested.

“Tiramisu?” You repeated tilting your head to the side in confusion which only added to your cuteness.

“Yeah tiramisu the dessert” iroha said hoping you’d remember.

“Ohhhh… tiramisu cake” you sang doing your little dance.

Iroha giggled and used the both of her hands to squish your cheeks. “Yes tiramisu cake”.

After you made the tiramisu cake iroha gave you the first bite to taste.

You nodded and hummed in satisfaction. “Hmmm delicious”.

Iroha found you cute the way you stuffed all the cake into your mouth and decided to take a picture of this cute moment. Using this emoji “🤏🏻” near your cheeks.

[cowboybarzy]

reconciliation — mat barzal

some barzy smut for you all :) wanted to wait posting this but those videos of him playing guitar just came out so we are all in desperate need for this rn!! as a reminder: video one two

word count: 2.9k

warning: SMUT (18+) & undisclosed fight (sorry I was too lazy to come up with a better backstory so just know it was fairly bad fight and this starts a couple hours afterwards)

You laid awake, desperately trying to fall asleep, but your fight with your boyfriend played in your head over and over again. It was so stupid and you hated that you were still mad, especially since he was leaving for a few days the next day. But you were too stubborn to be the bigger person and turn around and apologize.

Mat felt the same, though, the sleepless ness getting to him and turning around to face your back. He wrapped an arm around you and gently kissed your cheek. "Hey," he whispered, pulling himself closer to you until you were perfectly nestled to him. "We said we'd never go to sleep angry. I'm sorry. I love you."

You nodded, but didn't turn to face him. Your hand lifted to cradle his cheek and with an 'I love you, too' you both were finally able to fall asleep.

***

You spent the next few days alone, Mat being gone on a roadie. While you hadn't exactly talked about your fight, you mutually decided to just drop it since neither of you wanted to stay angry at each other. You face timed every day like normal, although there wasn't any spicy time that you would usually share. You saved that for after he hung up.

You could hear the music blasting from your apartment before you even stepped inside. Mat was back, since the early afternoon actually, but you were stuck at work. Yelling for him when you stepped foot inside the apartment wouldn't work, so after getting rid of you jacket and shoes you went to look for him. And what a sight when you did. He was dancing and singing along to the music, while attempting to chop an onion.

"Whatcha doin?" He jumped at your voice, dropping the knife and almost cutting himself.

"Don't scare me like that!" The shock on his face claimed after a second and he went to turn down the music and wash his hands before he pulled you in for a hug. "Missed you."

"Missed you." After a long kiss, you looked around to figure out what he was doing. "You're making dinner? For me?"

"Hey! I cook for you."

"Mhm."

"What? I do! You're just better than me that’s why I don’t do it so much." You patted his chest with a chuckle and kissed him again, shutting him up.

You helped him prepare the meal for a bit, before you went to go take a shower. Since seeing him today, especially in the kitchen, you had felt incredibly horny and devised a plan on how your night would go. But shower first.

After lotioning up and making you smell irresistible, you slipped into some sexy matching lingerie. You pulled on of his boxers overtop to be comfortable, but also show off your ass, and one of his white tshits that would show him exactly what was going on underneath.

You set the table when you came back and not long after you sat down for dinner. Throughout eating, you brushed your hair seductively and made some inappropriate noises, to get him riled up. And he did, but he could see exactly through what you were doing, so he didn't make a move. While he did want to flip this table to get to you, he just sat there staring at you, looking at wherever you wanted him to.

"This actually was pretty good," you said, taking a sip of you water. "I just hope desert is better."

His eyes darkened while you smirked at him. You were both staring at each other, fueling the heat in each of your bodies until you got enough.

"I must be getting my period or something, because I have been so horny these past few days," his body twitched, wanting to reach out to you. "Too bad you weren't there."

You got up to take both of your plates to the sink. "But don't worry, our pink friend helped me out a lot."

"What?!" You smiled at him from where you leaned against the kitchen island, showing off your legs. "And I didn't get a video or a call? Baby, come on." He was frustrated and tried to stand, but with a show of hand you got him to sit down again. You stalked over to him until you stood directly in front of him, looking down.

"I guess I was still mad at you," you said and slowly let you hands trace his cheek. Then you sat down on his lap where he immediately gripped your hips. Then you leaned down to whisper in his ear, "and I thought you should earn to see them."

"So... So, you did take a video?," he asked, his voice stammering.

"Maybe." You lips traced his jaw. "Maybe there's more than one." You let your hip roll, meeting his hard erection. "What are you going to do to earn the right to see them?"

He groaned as his head fell back. "Fuck, baby, anything. I'll do anything."

With that, you finally let him kiss you.

"Well? Show me what you got." And he did. You gave the control over to him and without hesitation he had you up and pressed down on the dining table. With a hard pull, your boxers and panties were off and he was staring down at you like a wild animal.

"God, you're so hot." His hands massaged your thighs before pulling your shirt up to expose your breasts contained in your black lace bra. He bent to to trace the outline of your tits with his lips. Swiftly, he ripped both cups down, exposing them all the way.

"Yes, suck them, Mat. Please ... please suck them," you begged, the sound so desperate that he complained immediately with a moan. He cupped your breast in his hand, squeezing it hard as he sucked your nipple between his lips. You moaned together and your hand got ahold of his head, pushing him into you. He played with both of your tits, sucking, nipping, licking, and squeezing, until you both got impatient and he got back down on his knees with a smirk. "Ready?"

His mouth descended onto your slick pussy, to which your pelvis shot up to meet his face. "Oh fuck." Hands still on your thighs, he took long, languid strokes with his tongue. You squirmed beneath him as he lapped away at you, never fully pushing all the way in against your clit, just staying around the outside, prepping you for what he had planned.

With two fingers, he spread you wide, exposing your clit, and then lowered his tongue to just above it.

And he hovered, letting you feel his heavy breath and the scruff of his jaw against your inner thigh.

"Mathew," you moaned. "Please."

With his hand that wasn't spreading her, he moved it back up your body, and just as he pinched your left nipple between your fingers, he press his tongue against your clit.

"Oh my . .. fuck." Your eyes squeezed shut, arching into him. He did it again. And again. And again. "More," you begged. "I need more."

In response, Mat pressed his tongue against your slit and lightly flicked at it, creating a vibration against the nub that caused you to grip his head and dig your fingers digging into his scalp. "Fuck, Maty. Oh my God . . . keep going."

His eyes lifted, to keep them on you to watch your reactions as he continued to pleasure you at a relentless pace. Your body grew tighter and tighter and your breath picked up as you got closer and closer to the edge.

His tongue attacked your clit more aggressively, pushing against it, sucking it. Your moans grew louder and your body tensed. Then your orgasm crashed over you, sending you into full body tremors. "Fuck... fuck." Mat sucked and licked you up until the tremors subsided and you laid there, limp, on the table.

Mat got back on his feet and bent over you to kiss you gently. His lips pressed small wet kisses along your neck and collarbone, until you had recovered enough to gain function over your limbs again. Your first act was to pull his shit off his chest, then you clung to him, wrapping both your legs and arms around him.

With his strong arms, Mat picked you up and set you in his lap when he plumped into your living room couch. "I love eating your sweet little pussy, feeling it clench around my tongue," he whispered into your ear as he pulled your hair. "But I love feeling it clench around my cock even more."

You moaned as your head fell into the crook of his neck. You were ready and desperate for him again and he knew immediately by the way you were rocking your hips, searching for his cock.

"You love that, too, eh? Feeling my dick pulsing deep inside you." You nodded quickly, hoping it would get him to do something faster. And he did, pulling his dick out of his sweatpants, pumping it a couple times in front of your eyes. Then he pulled on your hair, making you sit up straight while he leaned back. "Ride me. But don't let me inside you. I want to see just how slick that pussy is."

Your hungry eyes connected, but both of your heads soon fell back with moans as you slowly moved your wet cunt over his cock. "Oh my God, Maty, this feels... incredible."

"You feel incredible," he says in response as you fell forward, bringing your breast into him mouth. He focused on your nipple, swirling around it with his tongue, flicking and then nibbling just enough that you sucked in a sharp breath of air. With his hand, he did the same thing to your other breast as you continued to rock on him.

"I can come just like this," you say, your hands falling to his chest and your pelvis lifting just slightly to get a better angle. "Fuck, I'm already close."

"Then come. Use me, fuck me like this." His moans spurred you on, driving you closer to the edge. 

Your lips pressed together, as your eyes squeezed shut and your pace picked up. Your thrusts became more erratic until you reached your orgasm. "Fuck!" Your body shook and spasmed as you rode out your orgasm until there was nothing left to take. The you collapsed on top of him.

"That was so hot," he whispered, his voice raspy. "Now be a good girl and lie down." You obeyed, falling into to cushions exhausted. "Turn."

When you did, he gave your ass a hard slap, the echo of your skin filling the air. Then he moved a pillow under your pelvis and gave your ass another slap, before he moved his thumb over your arousal, swirling it around your entrance, and positioning his cock where he wants it.

With gritting teeth, he pushed his hips forward and with a hard thrust he pushed in his cock in your pussy until he bottomed out. You both moaned loudly and his grip got tighter on your hips as he tried to restrain himself. "More," you moaned as you started moving your hips.

"Babe, don't move. Please... fuck." You moved your pelvis anyway, and he matched the thrusts because he was as desperate as you. "I won't last."

"Do it, Mat. Fuck me as hard as you can." With a groan, the grip on your hips tightened again as he started pumping into you relentlessly. He had no control, all he was doing was fucking you chasing his release. Your pussy gripped his cock so tightly, spurring on both of your thrusts. He was pushing into you so hard, that the sound of your skin slapping was so loud, you thought the neighbors would be able to hear it.

"I'm right there. Fuck, I'm there," he groaned and moaned until he exploded inside you. Thick, warm ropes of his cum coated your insides. "Fuuuuck."

Out of nowhere, you started shaking as you reached your third orgasm. Your vision went black and your breath hitched while milking the last drops of his cum. Your body felt like jello as you came down from your high. Mat collapsed next to you, but you barely registered it. You were to exhausted to move or speak, so you laid there catching your breath.

Eventually, Mat's arm snuck around you and turned you to pull you into his chest. "Good enough to get that video?"

"Mhm," was all you answered and he smiled victorious, but little did he know he wasn't going to see it for a couple more weeks...

***

You had expected the call. After finally sending him the video of yourself playing with your pink vibrator, you had expected him to call you. For your own pleasure in the situation, like you hadn't had enough fun messing with him, you had sent the video at a time you knew he would see the notification but wouldn't be able to open it for another few hours. You reveled in the fact that he would be on the edge, dying to open that video, but couldn't because he was with his team in mandatory meetings.

You had expected the call. Which is why you were already ready and waiting in bed. What you didn't expect though, was to see Mat's fist wrapped around his cock moving up and down, instead of his face.

The camera flipped to show his face after a moment, revealing a very turned on Mat. "You little slut. You enjoyed that, didn't you? Torturing me even more by dangling that video in front of me?"

You smiled as you sank back into your pillows. "Yes."

"Turned you on, eh? Messing with me like that." He moved his phone so that you could see him from his thighs up and, god, nothing beat that view. "See what you do to me? Fuck, baby, that video was so hot. Screaming my name like that when I wasn't even there. All mine. You're mine." You were on edge and your hand itched to slide between your legs. "Did you have fun without me?"

"Wasn't that video proof enough?," you teased him again, but you knew it wasn't as good as it was without him.

"Tell me the truth or I'm hanging up."

You rubbed your hand over your panties and gave in. "Nothing feels right when you're not here." You need him and hear his voice to get off. "God, Maty, I'm so on edge right now. I need you." You positioned the camera so he, too, could see your body.

"Alright, I'll be nice. Strip. Take those fucking panties off and let me see your wet cunt." You did as instructed, even taking your bra off. "Now glide your fingers up and down your body and around your breasts without touching your nipples. Just like that, baby. Slower, I want you to feel how soft your skin is."

As your hand slid across your skin, you regretted teasing him for so long because you had a feeling he was going to do the same to you. "Slide your fingers closer to your pussy, tease yourself the way I'd tease you. Get close to your slit but don't touch yourself."

Your hand lowered and, when you got close enough, your pelvis lifted. "Don't fucking touch that cunt. It's mine."

"Don't make me wait," you groaned, throwing your head back in agony.

"Now who's talking."

"You liked it, I know it." You smirked, then dared to move your hand closer to your center.

"Shush. Spread your legs more and slowly spread those lips for me." You did, moaning at the sensation. "Fuck, look at you. I wish I was there, eating that wet pussy. Sucking on your clit, driving my dick so hard inside you that you can practically taste my cum in the back of your throat."

"Maty, I need more. Please," you begged as you breathing increased. You were so wet already and so close to your orgasm when you hadn't even really touched yourself yet. When you looked to your phone, you saw Mat started pumping his cock again.

"My dick is so hard, baby. Shit. Yes, go, finger yourself. I need to see you touch yourself."

Finally, you got two fingers to slowly circle your clit. "Oh, fuck," you yelled as head fell back again and your eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"That's it, baby, keep up the pace. I need you to match my strokes. Pinch your nipple too. I want you to mark yourself."

Your hips lifted as your fingers sped up, chasing your release. And it was getting close. You looked to your phone, where Mat was still grunting while he worked himself. You saw a big bead of precum spill out of the tip of his cock, then he moaned loudly. "I'm there. Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Me too." You had no idea if he heard you, but your orgasm started crashing over you and you lost track of all of your senses for a moment. Your spams started slowly and then descended into full body shudders that left you screaming his name.

While you caught your breath, you turned to take your phone back into your hand. You saw Mat with a small smile looking at you, hand still around his cock, but his sticky cum spilled on his skin.

"You are an evil little woman," he said, which made you laugh. "But, god, what I wouldn't do for you."

[whorefortheevans]

Not His Type - Jimmy Darling x Fem!Reader (18+)

I genuinely can't tell if this is good or not lmfao, I haven't written smut in literal yearsss and I've never written for ahs please help me.

CW: fingering, oral (fem receiving), public sex, slight praise at the end word count: 1316

"I'm telling you, Ethel, I'm definitely not his type," you explained, for what felt like the millionth time, to Jimmy's sweet mother. She and you have become increasingly close over the time that you've been working at the freakshow. Two years ago, you came looking for a job, just something small to make at least a little money. Elsa turned you down at first, because you were nothing short of normal, but after offering (begging) to help Ethel with the cooking, she finally gave in.

"How do you know what his type is? You've never asked 'im," she responded, continuing to chop the vegetables you both were preparing for the night's dinner. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and sliding the diced onion into a large pot.

"He likes Maggie. And what's not to like? She's blonde, thin, pretty face..."

Ethel glanced up with a small smirk creeping onto her lips. "Listen, Y/n, I've known Jimmy my whole life and I'm telling you, he's liked you for a while now."

Jimmy was the first guy you had shown any interest in. Most of them are crude and only want one thing, but he was the first man to ask for your name, take your hand and gently kiss your knuckles as an introduction. Well, needless to say he's had you since day one.

"Nope," you denied. "I am not his type, not even close."

"Not who's type?" Jimmy asked, striding into the tent. He had a playful smile on his face, and you turned away from him immediately, praying that the blush on your face wasn't as apparent as it felt.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," you said quietly. "Just boring girl talk."

Ethel put her knife down on the table and turned to you. "Oh, you know what? I forgot to grab a carrot, I'll go find one, don't wait up!" she said, half yelling as she quickly walked out of the tent, leaving you and Jimmy alone.

You suppressed a grin and rolled your eyes, standing in front of the table and starting to cube a potato. You saw Jimmy move towards you out of the corner of your eye and felt your heart flutter. It's stupid for him to have this hold over you.

"Hi, Y/n," Jimmy said in a sing-song voice.

You smiled and looked up at him. "Hi, Jimmy."

"Who's the lucky guy?" he asked.

"What lucky guy? The one who doesn't like me back?" He grinned and shortly nodded. "It doesn't matter. I have no chance." you said, looking back at the medley on the table.

Jimmy came closer to you, now standing just mere inches away, his body heat making you impossibly warmer. "Put the knife down, Y/n."

You placed the knife onto the cutting board and pushed it away from the table's edge. You turned to Jimmy, who took your wrists in his hands and smiled at you. "Who's the lucky guy?"

He leaned his head towards yours, nudging your cheek with his nose. You gasped, trying to control your breath and slow your heartbeat, but you knew it was no use. "Um, it's you, Jimmy," you said, awkward and quiet. You felt him smile against your skin.

"And who says you're not my type?" he said, clearly amused, but your sense of embarrassment dwindled quite quickly. You didn't answer him. Your words were caught in your throat and his proximity was making you very nervous.

He didn't press the issue further, and instead kissed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, and after a small pause to look into your eyes, he smiled again and placed his lips on yours.

His hands grasped your waist, and you placed yours on his shoulders for stability. He gently bit your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from you, and he continued to kiss his way down your jaw to your neck, biting and licking until he found the spot that made you moan yet again.

He sucked on the skin just below your ear, and you threw your head back to give him space. He walked you back a few steps, until your lower back hit the table behind you. Jimmy pulled away and lifted you up, sitting you down on the cleared space of the table. Now standing between your legs, he reached his hands under your shirt and pulled it off.

His left hand massaged your breast, hardening your nipple and sending chills down your spine. His right hand moved further down, rubbing soft circles over your clothed clit. You moaned and pulled your head away from him.

"Is this okay?" he asked you.

"Your mom will be back soon," you said, although you didn't want him to stop.

"We'd better make this quick then, lift your hips." he said, as he quickly pulled down your pants and underwear in one go.

"Jimmy! The food is right here!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding steadily.

He laughed and kissed down your body, positioning himself on his knees right in front of your dripping pussy. "The heat will cook off anything bad, don't worry." He ran his fingers through your wetness and stuck them in his mouth. "You taste delicious," he said, kissing your thighs, inching closer to where you most want him.

"Jimmy, please," you whimpered, wriggling your hips to try and find some sort of friction.

"Please, what?" he teased, looking up at you.

You groaned in embarrassment, "Please touch me, lick me...anything."

He smiled up at you and lightly kissed your clit, sticking his tongue out and flattening it against you. You gripped the edge of the table and let your head fall back in pleasure.

He kitten licked your clit before briefly pausing, and running his tongue from the base of your pussy back up to your clit, sucking it and kissing it in a way you've never felt before.

You let out a series of moans, trying to keep them quiet in case anyone was near enough to hear. You moved your hand into his hair and pulled on it, causing him to moan and send vibrations through your core. You leaned back on your left hand, hoping it would be enough to support you through this.

Jimmy took his right hand from where it rested on your thigh and plunged his middle two fingers into your hole, pushing them as far in as possible before withdrawing them. He began to pump them, slowly at first, and as your moans got louder his hand went faster.

You could feel your arousal dripping out of you, running down to your asshole and collecting on Jimmy's chin. It wasn't long before you were a wriggling mess. You could feel your pelvic muscles tightening and your walls started to clench around his fingers. "Jimmy, I-I'm gonna...cum," you moaned out.

Jimmy took his mouth away from you and pumped faster, if that was even possible. He took his left hand and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit and looked up at you, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. "Cum for me, Y/n. Cum on my fingers like a good girl,"

That was all you needed before he sent you over the edge. You bit your knuckles, trying to keep quiet but your moans still sounded loud in your ears. You clenched tightly around Jimmy and squeezed your legs together as the pressure inside you was released.

Jimmy took his fingers out but rubbed your clit through your orgasm before helping you put your pants back on. He stood up, wiped his mouth on his arm and smiled at you. "Who says you're not my type?" he grinned, backing away from you as Ethel came back in, holding up two carrots.

"Found 'em," she said, before setting them down on the opposite side of the table and sending you a playful smirk.

[ofcowardiceandkings]

companion piece of young Link

AAHH i finally finished something :'D

i've uh had some very specific Thoughts about Zelda's childhood for a while now so its about time i put them to paper - this is actually round TWO since the original doodles are lost to ... somewhere ... i like these second editions better though so alls well that ends well

we're looking at ages around 4, 7 and 10 years old here touchin bugs in the dirt, archery practice, and playing a lyre ;w;

more detailed Thoughts under the cut 💙

iiitssss customary ranting about my BotW/TotK opinions tiiiimeeee welcome my darlingsss jfkdjfkd 💙

i had a much more solid idea about where i was going with Zelda than with Link but some of it is kinda abstract or weird lol

we know a fair amount about her upbringing in general, or can infer as much from Zelda's interactions with her father and what they and people around them wrote. she was clearly a smart and vivacious kid with a strong personality from the start, no matter how much you sort of squash that shit for the public face, repression etc. so yknow, her mother's death when she was 6, awful. her father's change in attitude especially in her teens, awful. being under public scrutiny her whole life, awful. restrictive structure of royal life, dull (i bet it bored Zelda to death at times no matter how strongly duty-oriented she is). having said that though, she got by and just by looking at her study, she clearly got stuff done to herself - you can take the kid away from the science but the science stays with the kid !!!

additionally, forgive me for mentioning ... timelines ... but in my humble onion, BotW/TotK serve as a Dragon-Break scenario which are SO far in the future from other entries that ALL timelines will inevitably converge and lead to that point, so it doesnt matter any more (i dont like extended Timeline theory, Nindooty doesnt like extended Timeline theory, the current writing team seem to want shot of it, let me be). being a history guy i also subscribe to leaning on the LEGEND aspect of 100 and 1000 year games of telephone, it makes things spicy. tradition is a strange thing, we do things we dont have much of a context for anymore, we're still living with the cultural hangovers of people living when mammoths were around and no thats not hyperbole lol its WILD. ive typed around the point enough lets get going

she was a bugs girl !!!! she still IS a bugs girl lmao but if our 16 year old girlie is gonna pounce on frogs apropos of nothing, that 4 year old girlie is gonna go catch bugs in the Royal Gardens and freak out her maids or escorts with them, good for her 💅

the other two are where my timeline thing comes in; the triforce is never mentioned by name, its just there in symbolism ?? something about the blood of the goddess ?? divine sealing powers ??? no one knows in the same vein, i like to think that its traditional for Hylian Princesses to learn archery and play a lyre or harp ... but no one remembers quite WHY ?? so Zelda does. the Priestess-Princess* role means the public is aware that Zelda had formal singing training, but its not really common knowledge outside of the Castle that the Royal Girls do THIS (no one knows why that part is important either, but it stays in the Castle). she might be a little out of practice now, but give that muscle memory enough time and she might be able to really surprise people.

*this is part of the Japanese translation, at least in Kass' final song Zelda is referred to as an term roughly meaning Priestess-Princess - which makes total sense to me

ohhh my god i talked a lot okay i just love my gorl fhjdkfjdk

actual footage of me explaining my shit and going way long

[soulc-hilde]

Ch. 02 - No Good Fridays

A/N: Even though the gif would've been perfect for the first chapter seeing as this happened in episode 1, I'll still use it because Jeremy's face is just perfect!

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Black!OFC

Warning(s): Follows the FX tv show, Shameless, viewer discretion be advised. Depictions of grooming as well as non-consensual acts being mentioned, depictions and ideations of suicide, depictions of drug and alcohol abuse, racial and homophobic slurs, mentions of CPS/CYS and foster care, depictions and mentions of consensual sexual acts, depictions of violence (gun and maybe gang), depictions of mental health, depictions of inherited addiction, and so much fucking more.

Synopsis: All Lip Gallagher ever had was family and despite the praise over his intellect, the health and wellbeing of his people were far more important than him furthering his education. Lecroy was a young girl destined to face abandonment until the Gallagher clan came through. Using her own skillset and connects to build a better life for those she loves, she ties Lip and his family to her hip.

Two of the greatest events in television history will broadcast tonight. One - The UFC pay-per-view and two - The Deadliest Catch Season Finale. Such a big event, that Frank went as far as trying to tie his soiled hair in a ponytail before meeting his little friends at the Alibi. Behind him, two cars pull in at the same time. Steve and Ian jump out the black BMW coupe with bags in their hands while Lecroy follows suit.

As the crew began to set up before the show, Lecroy's once relaxed posture turns fridged at the sight of Karen in the living room with Lip. Rather than greeting the boy, she walks past him and into the kitchen with Ian and Steve to grab the food.

"Burgers comin' through," Ian sings, leaving the kitchen. Fiona turns over her shoulder, "uh, Lip, napkins." Karen takes a step forward, "I can do it," but Lip was already ahead of her. "I got it," he shakes his head.

Fiona raises an interested eyebrow, studying the interaction. Wanting to test a theory, she watches as he goes for the kitchen as well, passing the only - other - positive woman in his life. "Hey, Peaches," he greets with a small smile.

However, he receives a rushed head nod and nothing else. Both of Fiona's eyebrows raise as she bites her bottom lip. Oh, great, a pissed off Murphy and a possibly puppy-eyed Lip, the eldest Gallagher huffs to herself.

"Only ketchup," Steve reads off the order. Debbie raises her hand, "me!" He then reads off the next one, "extra onions, jalapenos." V opens the front door, taking it, "me."

She climbs over the couch, landing beside Fiona just as Carl makes his way over. He tries to grab at her cookies only for her to pull it back, "uh-aht-aht, after you finish your shake and fries."

He sits back with a slight pout. Lecroy laughs, patting the back of his head softly before sitting him in her lap on the couch. "It's okay," she whispers, "I'll get you your cookies, bubba."

He now smiles, happily diving into his sandwich. V turns, catching sight of the unfamiliar blonde in her peripheral, "who's this?" Lip answers, coming back with napkins, "this is Karen."

"Hey, Karen. Nice top," V greets her, "what size are you?" Fiona cuts in, waving her hand, "shh! Shut up." As the narrator of the show begins to talk, Lecroy softly nudges V with her elbow.

The two meet eyes as the copper haired teen bounces her eyebrows before rolling her eyes. V's mouth drops, mouthing an understanding, "oh." In other words, Lecroy reminded the woman that Karen was the blonde neighborly pass around who not only is stealing her best friend, but is just an all round nuisance.

After watching maybe like... 2-3 minutes in? A bloody, pouting drunk Frank returns to the house, slamming the front door closed. Everyone turns, watching him with humor and wonder; mostly wondering who out of every Southside resident had the urge to rightfully punch him.

"You okay, Frank?" Steve asks, face scrunching with sympathy. Lecroy, on the other hand, snickers to herself. "Hey," Ian starts, eyes noticing something strange on his deadbeat father. He follows after the man from his seat. "That my shirt?"

At the question, the boy's father stops and turns in silence. On guard, Lecroy carefully sits Carl between herself and V in case she'd have to launch at the man. "Yeah," Frank nods, stepping towards Ian.

His son slowly steps back, shaking his head, "uh, I'm just asking." Frank nods, forcing his forehead down onto Ian's nose with enough force that the teen flies and lands on the table. Everyone jumps, screaming as Fiona begins asking Ian if he was okay.

"Guy in the bar said to pass it on," Frank explains. Immediately, Lecroy pounces at the father.

Sending a right hook at his trachea, the older man collapses to his knees as he fights for oxygen. Clasping onto his throat, wheezing, his eyes widen with delay as her denim clad knee jabs into his glabella. His body falls back without resistance, comparable to a ragdoll.

Steve and Fiona's eyes widen as they try to pull her away from him. Steve's arms wrap under her arms as he tries to lift her away. Fiona calls out, urgently, "wait, no, don't--" but it was too late. Lecroy's elbow forces down into the man's ribs eliciting a gasp, edging on a whimper, to escape.

"She's so strong," he winces, holding his sides. Keeping face, he turns to glare at the drunkard. "You don't do this to your kids, Frank," he grits his teeth. "What are you, a tough guy, Steve? You think you're a fucking tough guy?" Frank teases.

He steps forward, "because you look like a premenstrual Filipino." He points at a glaring Lecroy who stood beside a wincing Ian. "If anyone's tough, it's that baboon bitch--"

Without hesitating, the girl picks up the tray of milkshakes and hurls it at him. He stubbles back, slightly hissing at the sting, glaring toward the teen.

"What the fuck, Frank?!" Lip belts in outrage, happily watching her mop the floor with him. "What the hell did he just call her?!" V shouts, pushing Carl to hide behind her back.

"You wanna come at me, Babygirl," he teases, "then let's go. Let's see how long you'd sit in Juvie this time. Even better, that might put ya in the loony bin."

She forces him against the wall, gripping him by the collar. Repeatedly, she forces him against it until Steve forces her off without getting hit again. Fiona hops in front of the girl, bending down in hopes catching her eye would settle the teen.

The older woman's eyes water at the dark, dead eyes that seem to stare through her. "C'mon, Le," Fiona quietly pleads, "calm down. He's not worth it, okay? Not again."

She pulls her into her chest, hugging her tightly, "go upstairs and calm down, a'ight. It's okay, it's okay." Feeling her shoulders slacken, Fiona slowly turns her to the steps, not allowing Frank to fall in her sight.

As the teen shuffles up the stairs, silent, like a zombie, Fiona turns to the others. Steve puffs his chest, ready to swing on Frank, but she quickly pushes him back and gets between the two. "Steve, go. Get out. Hey, just go!" She orders.

"Please," she pleads, she points at the door as Debbie softly shows him out with a skillet still in hand. "Come on," Franks yells, "don't go. Come on. Puss, puss, puss."

On the table with napkins trying to stop the bleeding, Ian chokes on some blood that slips down his throat. "Ice," V orders. Frank brushes his hair back, "it's a bloody nose. He's not dyin'."

"Shut the fuck up, Frank," V grits, her mind overworked and exhausted as it bounced from Ian being hit by his own father to the man egging on a 16-year-old with explosive anger.

He goes to walk away before turning to them, "anybody notice that I'm bleedin'?" Ian waves away everyone's hands, marching up the stairs, "I got it. Where's Croy?" Lip follows after him, the brothers now in search of the manic girl.

Lodged in the boys' bedroom, Lecroy sat on Ian's bed with a lit blunt hanging from between her lips. Instead of actively inhaling and exhaling the substance, she simply partook in allowing the smoke to swirl inside her body with every passive breath in and shooting out of her nostrils with every breath out.

Her onyx eyes take a pitch of black that gives her a soulless appearance in the nearly dark room. They stare at the floor with a blank glare, not a thought emerging behind those pretty eyes. Lip and Ian, hell anyone who's a part of the Gallagher's close circle, was no stranger to Lecroy's bursts of rage.

It was as if she was her own Hulk, but without the heroic music playing in the background. She could threaten to tear a building from the inside out and mean it, enjoying the pain that licked at her skin with every hit. To the Gallaghers' it was a part of who she was, who they knew Lecroy to be. In her family, however, this was an unspoken of reality for them; a curse, as her grandmother would put it.

Each Gallagher teen takes a seat on her sides. Lip gently pulls the blunt from her lips, inhaling some for himself as Ian changed shirts. "You should've hi'im' back," Lip opens the conversation.

Ian looks down at him, "if I ever do, I'll fucking kill him." The blip of anger seeps between his teeth as he forces the clean shirt over his head. He nods to the blanked out girl between them. "Besides, Le was ahead on that mission," he scoffs, humorlessly.

"So?" Lip shrugs, "eight to ten for manslaughter. Get laid as often as you want. Tattoos and everything. It's gay heaven, man." Rather than respond, Ian takes his seat beside Lecroy, blotting at the blood on his face.

He takes the offered blunt before passing it back. Feeling her bones come to a settle from the enraged shaking underneath her skin, the girl begins to slowly blink as she comes to reality. Noticing the loss of weed in her lungs, she grabs the blunt from Ian's fingers and places it between her lips.

Lip, who waited his turn in the session, softly smiles and lands a quick peck on the girl's temple. The three musketeers, as always, had won another battle against the world. Rather than going home, she stayed the night at the Gallaghers.

In the morning, she cooks breakfast while Debbie sets off to steal the neighbor's paper in search for coupons and Ian, with the help of V, steals milk and creamer from Conrad, the local delivery guy for all the corner stores. Basically, a regular Friday.

Plating up the food, it was a simple menu of sunny side eggs with toast and bacon. Setting a plate down for every Gallagher, she received the usual thanks -- one of them being a soft pat on the rear by Lip -- as Ian sat a half gallon of milk on the table.

"Don't forget V's coupons," Debbie states. The boy nods, walking back outside. In the meantime, Fiona comes down with Liam and grabs the mail. Lip helps her set him up in the high chair.

As she sorts through the mail, gratefully taking the cup of coffee Lecroy made for her, Ian comes back inside with V's coupons. He looks at his sister, "any pizza left from last night?"

Both Fiona and Lecroy glare over at him. "No pizza. Fruit or juice," Fiona answers. Lecroy then states, "besides I'm making a whole breakfast. We've got eggs, bacon, and toast. Take it."

The two girls smile at his disgruntled yet satisfied look. "OJ's in the top, grape's in the bottom drawer," she directs. Over at the table, Debbie reads off all the coupons they've received.

"Poptarts, Frosted Flakes, Bisquick, Heinz Ketchup, and ooh-ooh! Even got a couple two-for-ones for Tide," the young auburn girl grins, waving the coupon beside her head.

Leaving the fridge, Ian looks over at her, "any coupons for meat?" She nods, "yeah. They got a special on ground chuck at Costco and Hot Pockets." Fiona chuckles, "great. We'll go tomorrow."

Lecroy sits between Liam and Lip, feeding the toddler some eggs and finely crumbled pieces of bacon. As his pouty lips fumble around the tips of the plastic fork, slowly swallowing the egg, Lip watches the two. He sets a sippy cup filled with milk in front of her. She sends him a small smile before giving it to Liam.

"Lip, you seen Frank?" Fiona asks, after reading the postal stamp on a yellow envelope. The teen pauses, swallowing, "uh, no." She hums, "what day is it?" He answers again with a sigh, "Friday. Why?"

Fiona skips up the stairs, searching for him without an answer. A firm knock rings from the back door, Ian sets down a plate in front of Carl before answering. Lecroy side-eyes the boy as he licks at the yolk, shooting a piece of bacon at his forehead.

He glances up at her, a small frown taking over his face. She sends a mocking one back, "eat your food, not disrupt the masses."

From behind him, Steve walks through with donuts and cups from the local coffee shop. "Mornin' campers," he greets them.

"Whoa, what'chu got?" Lip asks.

"Jelly, plain, and glazed," he sets the stuff down, winking at Lecroy, "I even got you a couple bostons saved."

The girl smiles, "and to think, I was gon'a be mad that you interrupted a healthy breakfast. All's good now." The two laugh as he hands her the cup labeled: 'hot chai latte.'

He leans over, watching as Carl continues to lick at the yolk of his eggs as Lecroy was distracted. Quickly, he takes a piece of bread from his plate, quickly tapping it against the yolk as the boy side-eyes him.

"Bet you hate when that happens," he teases. Ian scoffs in disgust, "they're his tits. It's the only reason he eats eggs."

Lecroy shakes her head, "I've stopped the ranting and just started throwing things at him," she leans over, playfully glaring at the boy, "like a dog."

Debbie's face scrunches in disgust, "he just licked that one." Fiona comes down the stairs, slowing at the sight of Steve. She looks down, noticing the donuts and coffee.

"Oh, great," she sighs. "Le and I've been trying to get them to eat a healthy breakfast." Munching on a boston creme, Lecroy mindlessly waves the older woman off.

"I already chewed him out about it, Fi," she pauses mid-chew and side eyes her, "the bostons are mine."

Steve smirks, gesturing to the table, "I bought all the essential morning food groups: caffeine, sugar, lard," he lands a peck on her lips, leaning back with a content hum.

She pulls him to the side, "I'm sorry about last night." He shakes his head, "never apologize for your parents. Believe me, I don't. So you can let go of that." Flustered, she sends him a quick smile before looking at the group with a confused frown.

"Has anybody seen Dad?" She asks once again. Debbie answers, "he was asleep behind the armchair." Fiona sighs, marching for the chair with the others following with curiosity.

Leaning over the back of the chair, her face scrunches as she snatches at the polyester material. "It's a tent," she acknowledges, turning to the others, "why is there a tent in the living room?"

"Oh, uh, drying it out," Ian confesses, "ROTC training in Wisconsin next week."

Debbie bends down, "I thought it was Dad. I left him a cup of coffee LeLe made this morning." She picks up the cup, "I thought I heard him say thanks."

Fiona leaves without a word, most likely going to V and Kev's for answers. Fiona returns with a final declaration, "I think Dad's missin'." Like clockwork, Lecroy and the Gallaghers start calling across the neighborhood in hopes anyone had seen the drunkard.

"Hey, Ted," Lip speaks into the phone, "yeah. Yeah. Since Michael Jackson died?"

Debbie sits on the landline, "hey, John, it's Debbie. Have you seen Frank since last night?"

Laying on the floor in the doorway of the living room and the kitchen, Lecroy is caught up in her own two conversations on two phones. One being with her mother:

"Yeah, has he been checked in at all since last night? This morning?" She pauses, "nah, ma, everything's fine... somewhat. The old bastard done went Houdini."

And the other being her boss, or dad:

"Baba, I know," she huffs as the man falls into a rant, "yeah, you wouldn't let him in the shop, regardless, I just need to know if you've seen him? I don't care if you drove past his body on the sidewalk, it'll count."

Fiona stations herself on the couch, "since last night, at the Alibi."

Ian sat on a phone as well, "sorry about the door. And the window. y-yeah, so, anyways, I was wondering; have you seen Frank?"

"Hello, has Frank been down at the department say last night or this morning?" V asks the receptionist at the Police station.

All of a sudden the landline from her house is snatched out of the window, the phone whipping from her hands. "Shit!" She yells, leaning out the window to see the phone being roped down the sidewalk.

"What the fuck? Motherfucker," She wonders to herself, rushing out of the Gallagher house. Still on the phone, but now sitting up, Lecroy laughs with a shake of her head.

"That's some ghetto ass shit," her smile drops as muffled voices begin cussing her out on both phones.

Laying back down, she blurts out rushed apologies into both receivers, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! No, 'm not shoutin'a' ye'."

Soon after Kev had roped V back to the house, everyone's phone calls came to a stop. "Anything?" Fiona asks, looking at them. They all shake their heads.

Ian answers, "nobody's seen him since yesterday." Debbie whines, her freckled face falling. Fiona consoles her, "hey, hey, don't worry, Debs. We're gon'a find him, okay?"

Her small body falls into small tremors. From behind, Lecroy plants a gentle peck on her crown, softly rubbing her shoulders. Ian leans over, muttering words of comfort.

Fiona looks at everyone, "we split up. All the regular spots, okay? Go."

Everyone splits up. Lip and Karen go together, much to the Murphy's chagrin. Instead, Ian and herself ventured off in her Jeep, pulling off with a screeching. They travel around the block, searching every nook and cranny the piece of shit could possibly hide in.

Even going as far as whipping open port-a-potties until Ian accidentally showcased a shitting man. Quickly, all three scramble to shut the door before the two redheads run off to their next spot.

Rounding corners of junkyards and even the neighbors' backyards, they began dumpster searching for him. It was a great idea until Lecroy loses her grip and front flips into one of the bins.

She leaps out of the stank container with a cry, trembling in disgust as Ian laughs his ass, falling in the alleyway. The duo steals a tarp and tucks it over the driver's seat before returning home. However, things weren't much better there.

Pulling in front of V and Kev's place, they walk in, eyes lighting up at the sight of Fiona and Steve. Stepping deeper in the room, they falter at the sight of Veronica ironing a shirt while topless for the webcam.

Ian smiles at the ridiculous scenery, "hey, V."

The woman's portrayal of some sort of sexy housewife doesn't falter as she greets him back, "hey, Ian."

Lecroy, on the other hand, couldn't snatch her eyes off of the woman's breast, blinking with a deadpan. "God, I love women," she mutters shamelessly.

"Um, sorry, Fiona," Ian changes the subject, "Debbie needs you. It's bad." Lecroy nods, jaw clenching as her focus falls back onto what brought them in the first place.

Back in the Gallagher house, a panicking Debbie sobs as she's surrounded by everyone. "Again, Debbie," Fiona speaks. The girl fumbles across her words, sounding as if she was singing hymns.

"Uh, Holly thought she saw a body under the tracks on Halsted," Ian explains. Fiona looks at him in shock, "what?" Steve denies the false tale, "it's not him, Debs, or the police would've contacted us by now."

Lecroy pats her head gently, "besides, it's Holly, honey. She's been in the third grade for four years." Fiona nearly growls, "I'm gonna deck that little bitch."

The Murphy girl shakes her head, "let me do it. I got a pre-buried hole in my backyard anyways." For a second, Steve pauses and glances at the teen with concern before looking back at Debbie.

"Does that even make sense, Debbie?" He asks, bending in front of her. "Why would your dad be in Halsted when he lives in the opposite direction?"

Lip steps in from behind, "well, depends. How was he lookin' when you, uh, left him at the Alibi Room last night, Steve?" He stands up, called out as Fiona follows. "When?" She asks.

"Uh," the man stammers, "ten? Ten thirty. Went to apologize, bought him a drink, then went home." He begins to light a cigarette, trying to appear collected under the lie.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Fiona asks. The front door opens as Kev walks in, "hey, can I talk to you for a sec?" The elder Gallagher steps toward him to the side.

"They found a body under the L," he says.

Once again, the family races off to the tracks, their hearts pounding against their chests in hopes that the body wasn't their father. Sliding to a stop at the circle of officers, Fiona speaks first.

"Do you know who that is?" She pants. "Stay back, okay? Stay back," the officer orders rather than answering her question.

They watch, silently as the coroner studies the body before flipping it over to reveal some homeless man who was very obviously not Frank. Veronica and the kids squeal with cheer while Lip and the others puff out a sigh of relief.

Wiping his hands down his face, the cyan eyed boy takes a hold of Lecroy's left hand, squeezing it into his chest. She looks at him, gifting a small smile, nodding. It's okay, she mouths to him. He simply returns with a smile, looking at the younger Gallaghers.

Off, behind them, Karen watches with studious eyes, lifting an eyebrow at the slip of affection. Despite the continuous ride on the Thrilling Gallagher Adventures thanks to Lip, she could care less about the boy's obvious yet simple need to involve her in his life.

All she needed was a fuck buddy and he seemed to keep her entertain, much like the rest of her roster. However, that doesn't mean she's willing to give him up and allow him to fall into the Murphy teen's arms. While Karen's... extra-curricular activities were a known fact, not much was known about Lecroy.

Her mother's a nurse, takes care of the Gallaghers and is an advocate for DV, her father owns a small auto shop, her nana runs the neighborhood daycare center, and the teen was a certified hustler.

That was it. Not too detailed. Not too vague. A respectable, working class family. Karen could fucking barf.

Oookay, so, this is probably the longest piece I've written yet and this is just 30 mins of episode 2. The rest will be added into Chapter 3, later on.

As we've slightly touched on Murphy's mental health - specifically -- disruptive behavior disorder, at some point we will take a dive into just exactly what she's inherited from her family and how it affects her daily life.

Don't be afraid to inbox me or simply heart, reblog, comment, and/or follow me for more content! Ask me any questions, my time is yours right here,

Much Love!!

Taglist: @slytherinroyalty16 @v1rgorl

SERIES MASTERLIST

[universallydestinytaco]

A Wild Nerve-Ending on a Friday Night (Oneshot)

*mood music*

Well, tonight is the end of S2, beautiful friends…it’s been a lot of fun. I’d like to thank each and every one of you who made this off the wall, chaotic shitposting journey with us. This blog wouldn’t have been anything without y’all! Hopefully this show left us with some good memes….

So, until S3, I’m gonna keep writing silly little fanfics like this! Stay gold, critters.

….bang. /ref

Inspired by this post from @friendlysmiler

Pim is canonically quite the party animal himself from what we saw in everyone’s favorite episode so who knows what hijinks the little pink imp gets into? XD

Side Note: Bill and Smormu are not only both alive here but they’re a wlw couple here, Bill is a he/him lesbian and Smormu is transfemme and sapphic, because that’s how I roll.

Monday, 7:15am

A fresh start to a brand new week at the Smiling Friends charity has officially began as everyone punched in and awaited their breakfast Alan theatrically-prepared while he channeled his inner Joichiro Yukihira in the breakroom kitchen.

Charlie was scrolling through his phone while smirking at old Rage Comics from over a decade ago with Glep watching on his shoulder and making a similar goofy smirk while Pim happily drew a picture of his co-workers in colored pencils to stick onto the fridge while quietly singing a song from one of his comfort shows.

“Take a moment to think of juuuust, flexibility love and truuust~”

Once Pim colored inside the lines, he hopped out of his chair and scurried to the fridge to display his masterpiece. “Excuse me, I’m just going to grab the cheese to melt over our deluxe omelette.” asked Alan in his usual monotone voice while Pim let out a nervous squeak while stepping out of Alan’s way. While Alan grabbed what he needed he inspected Pim’s drawing a with an impressed smile. “I really like your picture here, you even perfectly replicated my scales.”

Pim started excitedly fidgeting his hands as he chirped: “Thank you, Alan, I always find it weird whenever people draw you, they tend to forget or deliberately leave it out. I think your scales are beautiful!” Alan got a bit bashful while trying to stay focused on finding the cheese grater, uttering a somewhat-shaker “Thank you, you’re too kind….damn can’t find it, don’t want to burn the omelette so I’ll just-“ Alan grabbed a knife and precisely peeled thin-layers of cheddar to gently lay on top of the fluffy eggy clouds seasoned with garden-fresh herbs and spring onions.

Charlie couldn’t resist making a cheap shot at his slinky red co-worker: “Hey guys, Alan cut the cheese.”, such was a line that caused him and Glep to burst into laughter as if they where in grade school. Alan, who was serving plates carrying slices of the omelette, wasn’t amused and was tempted to gift the two wisecracking ingrates each an equally-tasteless surprise of pulling a Glep into their food, but took the high-brow road with a classy remark: “Let’s switch the conversation to a topic with actual substance…so, how did everyone’s weekend go?”

Charlie piped up first: “I played through the entirety of this one cool RPG for two days straight then when I finally beat it I celebrated getting wasted at the bar before getting kicked out for starting another brawl and spent all Sunday sleeping off my hangover.” He lifted his right sleeve to reveal the cherry on top: “On the way home I got this bitchin’ tattoo.” Lovingly detailed on Charlie’s arm was a crudely-drawn snake-dragon thing with arms breathing fire.

Alan then turned to Pim, asking: “How was yours?” to which Pim casually replied: “Oh, nothing much, the highlight was me and some friends hanging out at a pool.”

…

Friday, 6:00pm ~ Three Nights Ago…

Pim was sneaking around with a group of familiar faces as the moon hung in the sky like a charm on a bracelet, a chorus of snickering harmonized with the chirping crickets and the hooting owls. They stop at their final destination: the fence barring access to a familiar estate from the common folk….that didn’t stop the wild bunch from helping each other break in by climbing over and slipping through. Greeting the mischievous party was a grandiose pool yard just begging for the crowd to jump in. “Ah, the perks of having connections with an A-List Celebrity….” Pim monologued to himself, before taking his shirts and shorts off revealing underneath was a hot sparkly teal one-piece with a star-shaped hole at the back for his pollywog tail to peek through. Smormu, who wore a pink floral-print bikini under her button-up and capri-pants whispered to Pim: “Are you sure we’re not going to get caught?” Pim replied with a grin: “Don’t worry, love, Mr. Frog’s out and about somewhere, probably at a crummy bar, and probably causing his usual commotions there so he isn’t too concerned with whatever’s happening here.” As Duncan and Dj Spitz set the mood by the former playing a 90s bop out of a retro boombox and the latter breaking out the booze, Everyone stampeded over to the pool in unison, each individual jumping in the cold crisp waters in various amusing ways as the loud victory cry of “GERONIMOOOO!!!!” bursted out of the ever-excitable Filmore’s mouth like a firework into the sky. It was a rip-roaring time with just a hint of good-old-fashioned chaos, just the way Pim liked it.

Just three nights night ago around this time, Pim was uncontrollably sobbing to himself in a pillow over the fact that his fickle sister Amy invited literally everyone she knew to her wedding… except for her ever-loyal and loving baby brother, bragging about having Mr. Frog as a celebrity guest. Sick of crying his eyes out and being excluded from his family’s lives on a daily basis, he figured he could have a celebration of his own! The only downside was his co-workers having plans of their for that weekend, otherwise he would have invited them over for this late-night dive.

“A toast to our dear comrade and member of the Pennsylvania UFO-Hunting Squad, the ever-lovable Pimling!” Bill proposed as he raised his glass, everyone followed suit, chanting Pim’s name, except for a heavily-intoxicated Dj Spitz pounding in his chest and hollering out: “FUCK YEAH ROCK ON LIL PINK MAN!!!” Of course Pim immediately got flustered, his face turned a vivid shade of hot pink as a result of all the positive attention while mustering the confidence to reply until grinning sheepishly and raising his own glass, stuttering: “T-thank you everyone, you’re all too kind…all this hype about little ol’ me.” In a rush off of the praise and the sheer audacity of his actions, he chugged his drink down without a second thought. Everything after that was a string of vague, discombobulated visions of what happened in-between the rest of the night…

Saturday, 5:02am

It was a very early morning when the dizzy, light-headed Pim woke up front-facing the twilight sky melting into daytime, getting up and finding himself floating inside Mr. Frog’s grandiose fountain in front of his house until he immediately snapped out of it upon just noticing the strewn toilet paper and graffiti all over the statue. In a panic, Pim swam out and scurried around looking for everyone else and making sure nobody was left behind, his heart raced discovering more of the shameless if not karmic defilement of Mr. Frog’s property: overturned lawn chairs with one thrown into a window, discarded junk inside the pool and the jacuzzi, more TP strewn around like party streamers and someone’s trunks (presumably Duncan’s) hung like a flagpole like a comical take on a windsock. It seemed everyone except Pim had taken off before sunrise if not gotten arrested. Combined with the panic attack he was getting and the unambiguous symptoms of a hangover reeking havoc on his body, Pim tried to reach for a trash can to stress-vomit until he collapsed and relieved his bile in the jacuzzi. Minutes went by as Pim felt weak like a newborn kitten, prepared for the legal trouble he was about to get himself in if Mr. Frog wasn’t going to maim him Spamtopia-style first….just then a familiar voice rang in Pim’s ears that filled him with relief, Pim’s eyes cracked open as he started upward at a sober Bill holding the hand of his stumbling partner, Smormu. “Morning, buddy, need a hand?” Pim responded without so much words as it was a tired grunt and raising his stubby pink hand to initiate Bill and Smormu helping their friend up. “Let’s hurry and get out of here, unless we wanna throw a party in the county tank.” Bill chuckled.

Later that day saw a double-dose of tea and drama Pim was secretly and gleefully catching up with, from Pim’s mother recanting to Pim how much of a disaster Amy’s wedding was when Mr. Frog showed his ass once again by getting drunk and trashing the place, even spilling red wine on her wedding dress. Then the news that Mr. Frog came home to his place utterly savaged, claiming he’d seek revenge on the purp but considering the type of person he was, everyone assumed that Frog did it himself after coming home from the wedding he was invited too and was too drunk to remember.

Monday, 7:27am

Pim finished with an uproar of laughter from his co-workers plus Mr. Boss, all of them in shock and awe that the one always perceived as the cute little “goody-two-shoes” of the Smiling Friends charity was capable of getting up to some serious frat boy-level shenanigans. Charlie felt as if he wasted his time spending his weekend the same as the last, so he asked his best friend: “Hey Pim, you think I can hang out with you next weekend?” Pim made an innocent pose, putting his finger on his lips as if he was a kid who got caught stealing from a cookie jar. “Well, maybe not same-the-same-place but I know another celebrity’s pool yard to break into! I hear the Krombledashians are hosting the Meep Gala next Saturday…”

[hergrandplan]

Wille's Month Day 5 ( @youngroyals-events ): Cooking/baking

Hi everyone! I am back from New York and so so excited to post again. For this prompt, there's surprisingly little Wilmon... but that doesn't mean it's not sweet ;) Hope you'll enjoy!

Also disclaimer: I used Spanish in some places here, I am nowhere near a native speaker but have been learning it for the past few years, and did some extra research on Venezuelan Spanish. However, I haven't had anyone check it so any and all mistakes are mine.

It's the last night of their trip to visit Simon's family in Venezuela. They help Simon's abuelita prepare dinner.

Read below the cut or on ao3 (the ao3 version has a translation key)

The radio is blasting a canción, the strum of the guitar and the deep baritone of the singer joining the smell of roasting meat, of onions and garlic filling up the kitchen.

Simon and his abuelita are singing along to the music, her gravelly voice and his smooth one creating a beautiful, joyous homely symphony. It’s off-key, at times, like when Simon grabs his abuelita’s hand to spin her around, and they are both breathless for a minute, laughing. Simon is less focussed on how he sounds, more happy to just sing, using the ladle like a microphone.

Wille’s heart aches with fondness at the picture, and he’s grinning when Simon takes his hand, remembering at the last minute to put the knife he was using to cut the onions down as his boyfriend pulls him into a waltz that’s very much not fitting the song and yet perfect. They’re jumping around the kitchen, dancing, laughing and falling into each other’s arms as they try to match the up-tempo beat of the song. Simon’s abuelita looks at them fondly while stirring the meat for their dinner tonight – pabellón criollo, their family recipe.

It had taken Wille a full week to convince lita – because she insists he call her that too – to finally let him help cooking. This was, after all, her domain, and Wille was a guest. Every time he’d asked her, she just told him, with warm eyes, that los invitados no cocinan aquí, cariño, and Wille could say nothing against that.

But finally, on this final night of their trip to Venezuela, she caved after Wille told her how much he loves cooking. And though it’s true that the sound of the knife falling against the wooden cutting board and the sizzling of vegetables in hot oil, the doing rather than thinking and never stopping grounded him, it wasn’t the only reason he had wanted to help her cook.

Wille has been received with open arms from their first day in Venezuela, the whole family just accepting him and doing their best to include him even if he can’t always follow along and Simon has to translate. They joke with him the same way they joke with Simon, ask him for any embarrassing stories about their primo and even despite the language barrier, Wilhelm feels like he is home. Like he’s always been part of this big, loud and loving family.

And for that, he wants to say thank you. By cooking, by helping Lita in the kitchen as they prepare this last feast before they fly back to Sweden.

Lita asks Simon something in Spanish that Wille can’t understand. Though he learned a bit of Spanish when he was younger for diplomatic reasons, and though he tried to brush up on his knowledge before making the trip over, Lita speaks so rapidly and with such a heavy accent, dropping d’s and s’s, that Wille often has a hard time following her. Like he has now.

Simon nods at whatever Lita told him (asked him, maybe?) and leaves the kitchen.

Lita and Wille cook in silence for a moment or two, the radio still playing, but only Wille is humming along now. Though he can only catch part of the lyrics, he’s heard the song enough times now to at least know the melody.

Wille finally finishes dicing the onions and goes to put them in a separate pan to fry them up for the beans.

“You make him happy, you know.”

Wille is so focussed on what he’s doing that he doesn’t even realize that Lita started talking to him, the Spanish much slower than she spoke to Simon a moment ago.

Surprised, he turns to face her. Her eyes are trained on the food, but the corner of her mouth has lifted up into a small smile.

“He makes me happy too,” Wille says after a moment, in careful Spanish.

“I’m glad he’s found you,” she continues, again speaking slowly so Wille can catch every word. “You two remind me of me and my husband, dios lo tenga en su gloria, when we were your age.”

Wille doesn’t reply – doesn’t know how to reply, didn’t expect this at all. It’s not that Lita never talks to him, but he realizes now they haven’t had a moment alone before now, always surrounded by at least one other family member.

Lita fully turns to him now and places a warm, rough hand that shows years of labor and love on his cheek. She looks at him with chocolate eyes, a piercing gaze that Wille finds all too familiar – they’re Simon’s eyes as well.

“I can tell you love him very much, and that he loves you very much. I hope you’ll continue to make each other happy for many years to come.”

And where at first Wille was just surprised, now he’s stunned into absolute silence. This, this seems important somehow. This feels like a blessing.

“I’m happy you’re part of the family, mijo.”

Mijo. Wille falters at the word, barely able to wrap his mind around Lita calling him son, truly welcoming him into the family. He’s actually part of this, of them, of this part of Simon’s life now. And she, this woman who holds so much love in her heart, sees how much they mean to each other. That they are each other’s forever.

Wille thanks her, flustered and stumbling over his r’s that still feel unfamiliar in his mouth. But he thanks her nevertheless, saying he hopes for the same, that he will do everything in his power to make Simon happy, to show Simon how much he loves him every single day.

Lita just chuckles and resumes cooking, the moment gone as soon as it started. That’s when Simon stumbles back into the kitchen, holding a giant bag of rice. He launches into another tale in Spanish, occasionally glancing at Wille, who’s still standing next to Lita and isn’t really paying attention anyways, too caught up in what just happened. Wille knows he must have the dumbest smile on his face because Simon looks at him, questioningly. Wille shakes his head. Later, he mouths.

Wille looks on as the scene settles back to what it was before – Simon and Lita singing along to the radio, continuing their cooking. But it’s changed, somehow. Wille’s heart feels… Fuller. Fuller than it ever has as he too softly joins in the singing. This has Simon even more confused before he shrugs, shaking his head in bemusement at Wille’s very off-key singing.

They finish dinner. Wille helps Simon carry it all outside, putting it on the large table so they can have it under the stars, with the cicadas singing their cacophony in the background.

It’s their family tonight that they have this final dinner with. Their cousins that jostle around for the ladle, that laugh loudly into the night sky.

His and Simon’s, forever.

[miguelsfangservice]

BEYOND THE SPOTLIGHT II

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!Famous Idol Reader

Warnings: Angst/comfort, fame has caused reader a lot of anxiety.

Summary: It doesn't matter he's at HQ trying to keep the multiverse afloat, your face, your voice, your smile and laugh follows him everywhere.

No, he is not losing it (yet); it's just that it’s kind of inevitable when most spiders under his command are... how did Gwen called it? Ah-staning you?

Well, he can't really complain, it's his girlfriend, after all.

PART I, PART II

When Miguel arrived home, he was greeted by certain scent. He stayed at the door for a few seconds, it had been years since he had eaten that, he never really had the time to truly do them by himself and, while the cafeteria at HQ sometimes served them, the first time he tried those Miguel wasn’t fond of them at all.

“Migs?” he heard you calling from the kitchen. “You’re home early!”

“…Yeah, there wasn’t much to do, surprisingly.” He whispered; Miguel hurried towards the kitchen. “What are you…?”

Miguel couldn’t finish his sentence, as you blocked his path before he could enter the kitchen.

“Top secret, Miguelito” you said, a playful smile lighting up your face

He chuckled at the nickname, you kind of struggled sometimes with it and he found that to be a bit endearing.

“You know I can smell it right?”

“Fine” You sighed and exaggeratedly dropped your shoulders. “To be honest, I was trying to surprise you but I’m not even halfway done”.

As you began walking back to the stove, he grabbed your arm and drew you towards him, your body flushed to his. Miguel couldn’t help but smile at the blush in your cheeks.

“I’m not the best cook, but I do kind of remember how to make some pozole.”

“Nope, I’m the one who came up with the idea, I want to finish this.” you protest, he rolls his eyes and fights off a laugh.

“Let’s make it a team effort.” Miguel caresses you from your hair to your face, you try playfully to brush his hand off. “We make it together; we enjoy it together. That is if we don’t completely mess it up.”

“Please, have more faith in my culinary skills; if I wasn’t dancing and singing for people’s enjoyment then I would be gracing their paladars with my cooking.”

“Sure” he says mockingly, walking past you towards the half-cut onion you left on the counter.

As you saw him hunch over the counter, looking huge in this tiny kitchen, in this tiny apartment you had gotten together, you felt like you could drop in one knee and ask him to marry you.

It might sound ridiculous, but you had been feeling like that every time he did something around the place; you knew for sure you wanted to grow old with that man right next to you.

 “Cielo…what is it?” He asks, you can see a bit of concern on his features, so you smile and hug him from behind, burying your face on his back.

“I was just wondering how the hell aren’t you crying with that damn onion?”

Granted, he had to teach you and fix some of your mistakes while cooking pozole and you realized that the tutorials you were following didn’t look as appetizing as you first thought. What Miguel had cooked looked way better and more accurate.

Now that you were finally eating it, you both were practically moaning at every bite.

“God” you began, mouthful. “Maybe you should fight evil one pozole at a time, If I were a Doc Oc I would definitely drop my evil plans to taste this”.

He laughs a little at that, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. Your heart stops for a second, he looks so good doing that...being carefree and just himself without the burden of being Spider-man.

After finishing, you pick up the table and put the dirty dishes on the sink. When you come back, he’s sitting on the couch, you walk towards him and he motions for you to sit on his lap; you have to roll your eyes at him and how corny he can be sometimes, he grabs your hands and leads you towards him.

Before he can actually sit you on his lap, you open your arms and engulf him (as much as you can ‘engulf’ a 6’9 man) in a hug, his head resting on the crook of your shoulders.

“How was your day?” he asks. Usually, when you are both having a good time together and don’t want to be disrupted by your day-to-day life’s, you try not to ask each other about your respective days, it usually led to remembering how absurd your work life can be, the stress that comes with it.

Miguel looks at your face carefully, he had noticed how pale and tired you looked since the moment he stepped into that kitchen. He tries not to be obvious in his concern for you, he’s aware that you hate worrying him, but Miguel has told you several times how impossible it’s for him not to worry about you and your wellbeing, after all, you also do that for him when he neglected his health while trying to keep the multiverse afloat.

He sees your whole-body tense at the question and the alarms immediately go off in his head, but Miguel tries to keep a calm demeanor.

“It’s just…” you began, fidgeting with your fingers, not being able to look at his face. “They are giving me a hard time with the schedule”

“What do you mean?”

“Ashley thinks I’m sleeping too much and that makes me show up late to the rehearsals, so she’s helping me adjust my time at home so I could—”

“Cielo, that’s ridiculous” he protests. “You’re never late, you know I make sure of that; we are always there almost half an hour early. She doesn’t even arrive to the damn building until well past 10 a.m!”

“She thinks I could arrive early and improve—”

“And it’s completely deranged of her to even try to manage even your personal time.”

“Ash is just trying to help, if it wasn’t for her I—”

“Oh, mhm.” He lets out a sarcastic chuckle and you wince at that. He’s upset, not with you, but you hate stressing him out because of this. “Trying to help by putting your health at risk?”

“It will be just a few hours less of sleep, Migs, it’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal; you can’t downplay this—”

“Miguel, come on, you and me both know that I’m not the only one sacrificing hours of sleep for our work.” At this point, you have separated from him, he’s still on the couch while you are nervously pacing the room, concern etched on his face.

“But you are already good at everything they’ve asked of you, Y/N!”

“Miguel, you don’t know how this works!” you yell, it’s frustrating how much he’s trying to protect you sometimes. He can’t possibly understand, he can’t; tears well up in your eyes, your hands are shaking and the years of pressure and all the rules of the industry that have been drill into your brain surface. “It's not just about talent; it's about maintaining that level of success. If I slip up even once, there are a hundred others waiting to take my place!”

Silence fills the room as you stare at each other.

Miguel’s heart is aching, your trembling lips and the tears now falling from your eyes make him clench his jaw in frustration. As you push past the tightness in your throat to try to speak again, Miguel gets up from the couch and embraces you.

“I-I appreciate your concern, Miguel, you know I do, but—"

Miguel’s watch lights up, showing tiny Lyla wearing pink colored pajamas, acting as if she just had woken up from a nap.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I know you, surprisingly, have a social life just as the rest of the spiders but you’ll need to pause that for tonight, you are needed at HQ.” She says yawning and then looking you up and down, she gives you a big smile and gets inches close to your face. “Is it a bad time to ask for an autograph? A selfie?”

“Lyla—” Miguel sighs, defeated and you can see how tired he looks too. You wriggle out of his arms and raise a brow; he knows exactly what you are thinking. “This is different, cielo, I’m used to this, my body is practically made for me to keep going in conditions like this…”

“Miguel, just— Come back in one piece, ok?”

[lionsongfr]

Crystalline Gala Cuisine

Been a bit since I made a festival cuisine, and since my old ones have been circulating, I guiltily figured I should make one for the Gala before it ends.  Gaolers and Tundras are both herbivores (though Gaolers also eat meat), but I headcanon that like most herbivores they will opportunistically eat fish, insects, and meat when given the chance. The dishes have a bit more mixing than the previous cuisine; in the Icefield you eat what you can and as much as you can to survive. Potato Onions are my replacement for potatos, because FR needs potatoes (and citrus and tomatoes and wheat and rice and spices).

Seeker Stew- originally a stew of necessity for traveling Seekers, it was made of dried Sea Grass, small Cragside Mussels, canned Common Minnows, Sour Elk milk, and spoiled Turnips. The dish was transformed back home, using fresh Spinach, meaty Olympia Oysters, Jumbo Shrimp, new Potato Onions, and…sour Snowfall Elk milk. Funk is flavor!

Shalefin in a Fur Coat- this uniquely named dish is a layered salad, like the layers of a Tundra fur coat. It is made of finely sliced pickled Shalefin fillets, grated Potato Onion, Gradish, and Honeycrisp Apple, and chopped hard-boiled Flecked Bushrunner eggs. The key binding ingredient is a flavorful mayonnaise made of Elk tallow, Dappled Clucker yolks, and dill.

Bear in a Cave Dumplings-a favorite of the Fae scholars of the Frozen Sanctum. It is a boiled or fried Potato Onion dumpling filled with fried Wooly Bear, Wild Onion, and Dryad's Saddle. It can be served with melted Elk milk butter and Winter’s Delight jam or a white sauce spiced with dried Dusky Mealworm and imported Golden Pepper.

Tundra Grub- a dish named after the main protein of the dish: a sausage filled with Tundra Grub meat, Longneck-grown oats, and Elk blood. The sausage is fried along with strips of Tundra Cactus before being added to an earthy brown sauce of Mycena Mushroom and Earthworms. It is typically served with an unleavened flatbread made of rye or Longneck oats, or a mash of Potato Onion.

Woodland Turkey Dinner- this was once a seasonal dish, but now is common year-round. While the star of the dinner is the roasted Woodland Turkey, the side dishes are just as essential. The most common is: Deep Sea Lobster and Jumbo Shrimp stuffing, roasted Winter Brussel Sprouts with a Superberry vinegarette, Tundra Grub and Potato Onion mash with Mycena Mushroom gravy, and Stonecorn rolls with Elk cheese and White Lace Honeybee honey. And last but not least, a Cinnamon and Honeycrisp Apple pie. A heavy dinner said to put even Sentinels to sleep!

Trunk Cheese- not actually cheese, but a cold meat dish made of fresh Bullephant Trunk (or Mammophant, though it is not as tasty).  The meat of the trunk is removed and cooked in a mix of spices and Wild Onion, and then poured and set with gelatin in the skin of the trunk. Slices are cut from the trunk and served upon rye bread with strong Wild Mustard and pickled Gradish.   

Edamame Soup and Pancakes- a popular yet odd combination of savory and sweet. This dish features a Chilled Edamame soup (heated of course, the chilled variety of plants grow better in the hot houses of Icefield) with large chunks of smokey Elk bacon, a sprinkle of thyme, and a dollop of Wild Mustard. The pancakes are made of nutty and mildly sweet Amaranth flour and served with Winter’s Delight jam. The soup is traditionally dished with a silver spoon, after a mighty Tundra king was poisoned by his favorite soup.

Warden’s Delight- a dessert, a snack, a spread upon rye bread, and a delight to every hatchie. It is a mix of Elk tallow, Spotted Seal or Wooly Walrus oil, fresh snow, and Winter’s Delight. As the mixture is whipped into fluffy peaks, it is traditional to sing “Warden’s Delight to fight off the night, no Shade or beast shall fill my sight. Drive away the hunger, drive away the cold, fill my belly and make me bold.”

Frozen Bouquet- flowers are rarity in the Southern Icefield, but this bouquet is made from flash-frozen flowers and fruits. After thawing they are quickly coated in a thin layer of crystalized maple syrup and then arranged into a bouquet. Often the bouquets have hidden meanings like Pretty Pink Mums for courting. Winterbelle for strength, and Wolfsbane for warning. But what every Tundra fears the most is a bouquet of Black Tulips.

 Crisp Morning Cider- Vodka is life to Ice Flight, the warmth in one’s chest in a land where winter never ends. And while most drink it “neat”, when rations are low then cocktails are the answer!  This drink is a common morning warmer and is a mix of White Lace Honeybee honey with hot water, Vodka, Honeycrisp Apple cider, and Cinnamon.

Boreal Brew-a tea made from the leaves of whatever green tree is available. Birch, Fir, Spruce, and Pine can all be brewed into an astringent tea with a citrus-y aftertaste. Unfortunately, Birch, Fir, and Spruce are typically harvested during Spring-Summer- but Pine is harvested during December. To help remove the bitter taste, Pine can be fermented with sugar for a week to a month (fermentation time depending on temperature) and then filtered and served as cold tea.

[urdreamgirls-dreamgirl]

part one

Indianapolis, Indiana Summer 1995

Steve has been sober for six months when he gets the call. Six months is a big deal, his sponsor had told him when he’d gotten his chip last week. Steve often finds himself shoving his hand into his pocket now, fingers seeking it out constantly, smoothing along the metal edges. It lights up his insides to think about it. He hasn’t been proud of himself in a long time, not since… Well. It’s been a long time and it feels good.

Seven months ago, Frank and Doug had sat him down. He’d been late to work almost every day that week, something totally out of character. They’d said they were worried about him, that he wasn’t the same. What happened?, they’d asked. What’s going on? Steve had rolled his eyes back then, hearing all that, but he’d listened. For two weeks, he didn’t stop at the liquor store on his way home. He didn’t slide Eddie’s tape into his stereo. He struggled to fall asleep without the gin, but he woke up on time and crawled into bed at a normal hour, even if he tossed and turned.

Since he wasn’t playing the tape, he’d been listening to the radio, just whatever happened to come on when he hit the “seek” button. That’s why he’d heard it. Eddie’s new song. He hadn’t listened to any of Eddie’s new music since Eddie had left, couldn’t bear to hear what he’d lost by being scared. He’d let his guard down, hadn’t been paying attention at first really. But he’d recognize Eddie Munson’s voice anywhere, in any life.

He’d been making himself dinner. He’d always loved cooking, but he’d stopped when he hadn’t had anyone to cook for anymore. He was chopping onions, singing along to something he recognized, before that song had faded and a new one started, with no introduction. The minute he heard Eddie coming from his speakers, his hand slipped and he’d sliced right through his finger. He’d let it bleed there, all over his cutting board, paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe. Eddie sounded only a little different, older than on the tape Steve had memorized inside and out, every breath and every swallow, every chord change, every slide of fingers against strings. This was different. Strange and unfamiliar, wild almost. It made Steve’s heart hurt to hear it, to hear an Eddie he’d never know.

Steve had abandoned his dinner plans, left the onion half chopped on his counter, the cutting board splashed with his blood. He’d wrapped his finger in a dirty napkin he’d left on the kitchen table that morning and hadn’t even bothered to shrug on his coat before leaving the apartment and making his way as quickly as possible to the liquor store on the corner of his block. He’d drank a whole bottle of gin that night and slept through work the next day. Repeated the same thing over for three days.

On the morning of the fourth day, Robin had shown up at his door. Doug had called her, she’d said. She’d been mad at him then, so angry to see the rotting onion covered in blood on his kitchen counter, the empty bottles of gin broken in his sink. She forced him into a cold shower, stacked clean clothes for him on the counter, and then went to clean his kitchen. When he came out of the bathroom, she was pouring the last of his gin down the sink. She’d even gotten rid of the beers he’d forgotten were in his fridge, shoved all the way into the back.

She’d made tea and then forced him to sit on the couch while she told him how much they cared about him, how much Dustin and Nancy worried about him. How she’d never forgive him if something happened to him. He’d looked up then, into her shining blue eyes, tears on her lashes, and he’d felt the last part of his heart crack in half. He couldn’t believe he’d made her look like that, feel those things. He’d never forgive himself for that.

They’d cried together and he’d explained it all to her, all the things he hadn’t allowed himself to say in the three years since he’d seen Eddie last. She’d held him as he cried and then he’d begged her not to tell anyone. Please don’t tell Eddie, he’d whispered into her neck. Please. Robin promised and then she’d taken him to his first meeting where he’d gotten his chip for 24 hours sober. Steve had thought that was kind of silly, cheesy even, but the smile on Robin’s face had been so bright, so beautiful, that he couldn’t help but return it. Strangers had congratulated him, shaking his hand, and it had felt good, something accomplished for the first time in a long time. So he’d kept going back.

Now he’s six months sober and his phone is ringing when he comes in from work that evening.

“Hello?” He says, picking it up from the cradle as he toes off his shoes. 

“Steve, I—Hi,” El says. “How are you doing?”

“Hey, supergirl,” Steve smiles. It’s been a few weeks since Steve has heard from El, Max, and Lucas. “Doing good. Just got home from work. How’s things on your end?”

“I—well. I do not know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it,” El breathes out. Her speech is still a bit stilted from her time in the lab, from relearning language patterns. She takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I felt something.”

“You felt something?” Steve’s brow furrows, confused. His hand finds its way to his pocket, his fingertips running over smooth metal.

“Yes. Something. In Hawkins.” She seems almost afraid to elaborate. “I—you are the closest one, Steve. I called Will. We are coming, but…” She trails off.

Steve finally catches up to where this conversation is going. El felt something. Will is coming home. It’s the Upside Down. Vecna or the Mindflayer or something. He feels just a tiny bit vindicated, justified in his insistence on staying in Indiana, on keeping watch. But mostly he feels terrified. Paralyzed by fear. The scars on his side throb with phantom pain.

“Right,” he says, his mouth dry, throat tight. He thinks he might cry, panicked tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “I need to get to Hawkins?”

“Please,” El says in a rush. “Please, Steve. Someone needs to be there, before Will and I get there. We will be fast, I promise, just—“

“No, uh, yeah, I’ll get there. Tonight. I’ll get there. Don’t worry, El.”

“Thank you, Steve. I’m sorry. Please be safe. I’m calling the others. We will be there.”

They say their goodbyes and then they hang up. Steve lets the phone fall from his hand and back into the cradle. His hands feel hollow, weightless. His fingertips ache. He grips his six month chip in his sweaty fist.

Before he leaves, after the five minutes he allows himself to panic before getting behind the wheel of his shitty car, he calls Frank and tells him he likely won’t be at work tomorrow. Frank must hear something in Steve’s voice, because he doesn’t press for details, just tells him to be safe and call when he can. Then he calls Wayne Munson, the only person Steve still knows in Hawkins. Steve tells him to get out, now. He doesn’t give Wayne details, but after ’86, after everything had been explained to him, it’s not hard to convince Wayne to get gone.

Steve grabs his nail bat from where he keeps it underneath his bed. The grip is so familiar in his hand, the weight of wood and metal, even after all this time. It feels real, solid; it’s something to hold on to. 

Steve gets behind the wheel of his barely functioning car, places the nail bat in the footwell of the passenger seat, and speeds his way to Hawkins.

~*~

Hawkins, Indiana Summer 1986

Steve and Eddie are in Steve’s room, lying across Steve’s bed, sweaty and naked. Eddie is sprawled across Steve’s chest, pressing kisses into Steve’s bare skin.

“Can’t wait to leave this place, Stevie,” he whispers, laying his head over Steve’s heart.

“Me, too,” Steve says, because it’s true. He can’t wait to live with Eddie and Robin, to wake up every morning with Eddie in his bed. But he can’t help the fear that rises in his throat, the panic at leaving Hawkins behind. He has to swallow, audibly, painfully, to keep it down, to keep it from spilling out of him and all over the space between him and Eddie. 

“Baby,” Eddie says softly, sitting up slightly so he can look into Steve’s face. “We won’t be far. The Upside Down is gone, Will and El both said so. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“I know,” Steve lies. “I’m just—“

“Not ready to leave Indiana,” Eddie responds, because this is a conversation that they’ve had several times before. Eddie always says the same thing. “I can wait, Stevie. I can wait for you to be ready.”

Steve believes him, in that moment. He believes Eddie when Eddie says he’ll wait, when Eddie says it’s okay to be scared. He believes it, because he loves Eddie and he knows Eddie loves him. 

~*~

Indianapolis, Indiana Fall 1990

“Steve.”

Steve can’t look at Eddie, can’t bear to see the expression in Eddie’s big, wet eyes. The band had gone to countless meetings with the label that wanted to sign them over the course of the past six months. They’d met with lawyers and accountants and managers and agents. They were doing it. The band was signing, they’d finally get their big break. This is what Eddie had always wanted.

“What if something happens?” Steve asks, begging, pleading, willing Eddie to understand him. He doesn’t understand how Eddie isn’t afraid, but then again, Eddie had only seen it all once, hadn’t lived in fear as the monsters came back, over and over and over again. “What if something happens and we’re not here? What if no one’s here to do anything?” 

“Steve,” Eddie repeats. His voice is even, level. Calm. “I can’t live my life being afraid. That’s not what I want for myself and it’s not what I want for you.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. Eddie leaves that night, sleeps on a bandmate’s couch. A week later, he comes by for his things, packs them away in his duffle and a few boxes, and then he’s gone. There’s no big fight. There’s nothing to make him hate Eddie. He can’t blame Eddie for leaving and Eddie can’t blame Steve for staying. It’s all just incompatible. Part of Steve doesn’t believe this is it, doesn’t believe Eddie will really stay gone. But he does. A year passes, then two, and Steve stops waiting for Eddie to come back.

~*~

Hawkins, Indiana Summer 1995

The first thing Steve notices when he drives into Hawkins is the smell. It’s something rotten, like sulfur and something else, something Steve can’t quite identify. It must’ve happened fast, since Wayne hadn’t mentioned it on the phone. The air is heavy with it, hot and humid. The sky is dark, almost black with clouds. He drives past Wayne’s tiny little house, makes sure the truck is gone from the driveway, before he heads toward the center of town.

The smell gets stronger as Steve drives closer to downtown Hawkins. Nothing much has changed in the years since Steve has gone. The small theater had shut down about a year ago, driven out of business by the multiplex they’d built over the ruins of Starcourt, but it still stands there, abandoned and dark. Melvald’s is still there and so is the diner that Steve had taken Eddie to on their first date, once Eddie had been released from the hospital. Steve feels like he’s stepped into a snow globe, a time capsule that’s preserved all the best and worst parts of his past. Hawkins has been frozen in time.

Steve only feels a faint prickle of fear now, replaced by the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The heat presses down on him, making him sweat. He parks his car in front of the abandoned theater and grips his bat tight in his fist as he steps from the car. He walks down main street, following his instincts. That’s when he sees it.

Right there, in the center of town, breaking through the asphalt in front of City Hall, is a gaping, bleeding red wound. The world, cracked in half.

part three part four part five AO3 link

~*~

These are the lyrics I imagined Steve hearing when he cuts his finger:

Singing, “if it’s meant to be then it will be,” and I forgive it all as it comes back to me. But I’m still praying for that house in Nebraska by the highway out on the edge of town, dancing with the windows open, I can't let go when something’s broken. It’s all I know and it’s all I want now.

(Ethel Cain but make it metal (these lines are from “Sun Bleached Flies” off of Preacher’s Daughter, one of my favorite albums from 2022))

I had NOT planned on expanding on that initial post, but then I had an idea and I wrote this in about an hour. When you’re inspired, you’re inspired, I guess!!! because there was no hint at a part two, no one asked to be tagged in subsequent posts except for one person ( @eddiemunsonswife ). Hope everyone who liked the first part finds this one anyway!!!! Thank you for all your sweet comments and tags :)