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scribblesofagoonerr · 7 months ago

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— found family | inner demons prologue

pairings: leah williamson x teen reader

summary: reader discovers that family isn't always blood

This is a sort of prologue to inner demons, some background of readers' life in the early years when she transferred to the club.

Also, this is rewrite as I wasn't happy with the original that I posted.

There's always been tell-tail signs that you should've recognised, all throughout the past several years and yet you will still so obviously blind to it all.

It wasn't easy to come to terms with things, but the realisation of it all didn't sit right at all, and in turn you weren't exactly sure how to cope with it all.

It was clear as day for everyone else around to see, your mother was a complete narcissist, she was manipulative and gaslighting. It was something that she had been doing your whole entire life, always making you out to be the bad day in every situation and acting like she was the victim.

How were you so obliviously blind to see that?

You guess your niave self choice to always refuse to believe it, it was the easiest option to just do that.

Looking back to the last several years, your childhood was full of moments like it, but of course you had always thought that your upbringing was completely terrible, it could have been a worse situation.

Growing up, it was only ever the 2 of you, you and your mum. Your parents split up when you were little, the seperation was messy and ever since that day, you'd always been to blame for the reason that it never worked out.

You had always wondered how exactly could it be your fault? You were 3 years old when your dad walked out, so how could it be like that?

"You were always to much to handle, Y/N. He couldn't cope," Your mum would make the excuse, all of them long nights when you would have your tiny arms wrapped around her and sob your little heart out when you asked where he was.

"I'm here, you've got me. You've only ever got me," Her words were imbeded in your head from the day that you'd decided to try and have an open conversation about the possibility of finding your dad, "Why go and find him? Haven't I been good enough. I'm the one that's looked after you for all of these years, and yet this is the thanks that I get in return!?"

It was always something like that, a way to guilt trip you and you always ended up feeling for it.

Her manipulation was completely toxic, of course you didn't realise it until later on in life.

Eventually, you just choice to accept that for the reason that you had such an estranged relationship with your dad.

"Aren't you happy for me? I made it, mum!" You exclaim, you were so happy enough to share the news with her, but you were left so dumbfounded by her response which left you feeling shame and judgement for even wanting to tell her.

The harsh statement of this current conversation with the older women is leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and make you question every single thing in life.

"Yes, you have made it Y/N, but you know, you only have me to thank for that now, don't you?" Your mum once again found a wa to make it about herself, regardless of the situation.

It was always and only ever about herself, no matter what type of news you wanted to share with her. Why was so selfish to not care about you?

"I'm sure that you can find some way to thank me though," You listen to your mum continue to talk and you resist the urge to scoff, "After all of these years and the amount of money I have spent on football boots for you, you'd be nowhere if it wasn't for me and I think you owe me now, don't you?"

Her words stun you and there's a lot of emotions that are building up inside of you. Ultimately you feel confused, how can she manage to twist this to make it all about herself, but of course shes' quick enough to make an excuse to end the call when she grows bored of talking to you.

You should know better, every single phone call has the same pattern to end the same way and you always leave with a pang of guilt for making a life for yourself.

It turns out that this phone call was no different either.

You are so excited to spill the news of making it into the senior squad of the national team, however the excitement soon fades and now you're replaced by mixed feelings of confusion, anger and upset instead. You fight to hold back the tears during the initial phone call but now its' over, you feel on the verge of a breakdown.

You feel like your news is a big deal, you've only been a part of the arsenal women's first team for shy of a year but it feels like such a massive achievement to be selected to represent your country and straightaway, the first person you thought-- you wanted to call was your mum. You thought she was going to be so pleased for you, so excited about it but you can't be further away from the truth.

The conversation happened a week ago, yet you still couldn't let it escape your mind.

Ever since the phone call, you had tried to distance yourself from her but even that hurt to do. The women was the only blood related family member that you had, it had only ever been the two of you, sticking together through thick and thin.

"You seem quiet tonight," Your guardian and fellow team member, Leah, perches on the arm of the sofa as she looks at you in concern, "I'm about to start cookin' tea soon. How do you feel about chicken nuggets and smiley faces?" She wonders.

"That sounds good to me," You shrug your shoulders and glumly stare staight ahead at the wall in front of you, the TV is playing but you barely even pay attention to whatever it is that's playing.

Its' been a long day with training ahead of a crucial game in the season, but all you can think about right now is the conversation you had with your mum a week ago previously on a constant loop in your head.

You still can't help but think about the conversation; The bitterness, the manipulation, every single time you thought about it, it made you think of every single time that something else happened like this throughout the years.

Maybe your childhood wasn't as great as you really thought it was?

"Okay," Leah nods and smiles in agreement but she doesn't move away just yet, "Is there anything that you want to talk about at all, bubs?" You know she's only asking for a bit more insight on your current mood, after returning from her own rehab session to find you shut away in your bedroom, the entire shift in mood was concerning to her.

The usual car rides over the past week had been quiet instead of the raised music level and sarcastic comments that the blonde was used to, replaced instead by the quiet, dull mood with you slumped against the car door and staring out of the window.

Leah definitely knew there was something wrong with you.

"Nope, I'm fine," You stand firm on your reply, shaking your head and keeping your eyes glued on the TV screen, choosing to look anywhere other than at the blonde, who would be able to see right through you in seconds.

"Are you sure?" Leah questions, furrowing her eyebrows in concern as she could see the tears welling up in your eyes, "Bubs, what's the matter? You look like you're gonna cry," She notes, worriedly.

"I... I'm fine," You mumble, fighting to keep the tears at bay until you can escape to your bedroom and allow yourself to be vulnerable when you're alone.

You always feel complete shame to show any sort of vulnerability in front of anyone, let alone the blonde defender who has taken you under her wing ever since you joined during the transfer window of 2022.

Crying only shows signs of weakness, you refuse to be seen as weak.

"Okay," Leah exhales a sigh and taps your knee gently, deciding to drop the subject when she realises you aren't be open and talk about things, "Its' okay if you don't want to talk about it, but just remember that I'm always here to listen, alright? Anytime that you want to talk, I'm here,"

Unforuntately, you are too stubborn to not give in and blurt everything out there and then to her. You feel like you still need time to wrap your head around the idea and see things for how they really are now.

"Uh huh. Thanks," You murmer in repsonse, getting up from the sofa and shuffling away to the confined space where you can be alone.

Leah exhales another sigh and shakes her head, heading into the kitchen to make a head start on dinner but she can't help but still be worried about you. Of course the women knew better than to try and get you to talk if you didn't want to though.

The blonde has always been around to witness moments like this and the backlash of it, you hadn't told her outright what was going on but she already had an idea what it was about.

All of your upset stems down to the one person causing you to be like this and she hated it every time you were left upset when you spoke to her.

Every single time you and your mum spoke, you would always become quiet and be in a general bad mood, often resulting in lashing out at people around you as a coping mechanism.

You know that all the arsenal girls have their own opinions on your mother, but they would never voice them out loud to you, because you wouldn't agree with it, but you knew it. They know it wouldn't be fair on you as the youngest member in the squad, even after the countless times they had seen the girl upset by her own mums actions.

You were so grateful for every single of the girls on the team, Leah especially, she'd always been there for you since day one.

Ever since you moved in with Leah, there's been several nights where she would be the one to comfort you and pick up the pieces, waking up in the middle of the night to hear your heartbroken sobs and feel her own heart shatter every single time, wanting nothing more than to take away any sort of pain that you were experiencing.

It was heartbreaking for all of the team to witness and always sought out to comfort you, they knew no matter what they said, it still wouldn't stop you contacting our mum.

Ultimately, it was your own decision to make soon enough when you turn 18 and until then they would be there to pick up the broken pieces when your mum let you down.

It happened time and time again, unfortunately.

You have lashed out way too many times as a result of that.

None of the girls ever took it to heart of course, they were old and wise enough to realise that none of your anger was directly aimed towards them and there was much bigger issues to be dealt with.

They have always vowed to support you, regardless of what happens in the long-run.

"I... I should've realised sooner," You think to yourself as you lay crumpled up in your bed that following night, its' almost 4 am in the morning, but you were still wide awake with your thoughts spiraling.

You can't help but think about things, replaying every single conversation with your mum that you have had, the numerous times that you've started to talk to her and she's cut you off with her own problems.

Why was it always like this? It wasn't fair.

The first mistake was ignoring her gaslighting this whole time.

The second being that you believed her manipulation for years, always twisting things to make it seem like she was the victim in the different situations - first when you were a child and even now as your nearly an adult.

Why had it taken you so long to finally realise it after all of these years? Why couldn't you have just realised it sooner?

Without much realisation to the current moment, your sobbing aloud with a tight clutch of your pillow. The pent up anger is replaced by sadness and loss, your grieving the loss of a women who you have always seeked the approval off and now you realise you can never have it.

The phone call was the last chance, the reality of it all coming to light.

Every time you have now learned to understand that youwhen speak to her, it's nothing but a vicious cycle of emotional abuse, something you were so oblivious to believe.

As much as you didn't want to believe it, it's true. Its' clear as day of what it is but yet, you still find it hard to believe it.

It's your mum, your flesh and blood, so could she be like that?

The sound of your sobs were what woke Leah up, she's quick to pad out of her bedroom and push open your bedroom door to find you crumpled up in your bed, "Bubs?" The women stands in the doorway of your bedroom, her heart cracks to see you looking so distraught and vulnerable.

Without any hesistance, the blonde is quick move to be beside you on your bed and envelope you in a warm hug, "Its' okay, its' okay. I'm here now," She's quick to comfort you, she wouldn't ever stop doing that as long as you need her, "Let it all out, I'm right here," She adds.

Leah keeps you in her arms, gently rocking you as she runs her slender fingers through your messy bedhead, "Just let it all out, alright? I'm here, I'm not going anywhere," She reassures you.

As always, she's patient enough to wait for you to calm down before she gives you chance to speak, she won't ever push you to talk if you don't want too.

"L... Le," You cry aloud, clutching onto her tightly. Your breath becomes more shaky as sobs wrack your body, trying to find the words but nothing wants to come out of your mouth right now.

"I'm here, it's okay," Leah repeats in a calming voice, continuing to try and comfort you in the best way that she knows, but she already knows it's going to be a long night ahead of them, or day rather.

An emotional night that will leave you drained tomorrow for sure.

A vicious cycle on a loop, once more.

"Ready to tell me what's going on inside that head of yours now, hm?" The blonde quietly asks with caution, already having a feeling that she knows the answer to that question.

There's a brief pause of silence in the room and the blonde thinks that you wouldn't talk, but regardless of that, she still continues to comfort you and reassure you that she's here and not leaving at all.

To Leahs' surprise though, you do start open up this time though and the words spill out of your mouth without you even thinking about it.

"I... It's my mum," You mumble quietly, making the mistake to speak aloud than think it like you thought you have done, "I... I should've realised. I should have done,"

Leah furrows her eyebrows on confusion, "What should you have realised, bubs?" she questions about what you mean.

Snapping your head in the blondes' direction, you bite your bottom lip and debate whether to be open with your thoughts that you have been trying to buried.

"I should have realised about my mum, she's so... she's so toxic," You admit as you try to fight more tears from spilling, "Why does everything I tell her-- Why does it always get turned back around so its' about her?"

There it is. You've blurted it all out in the open, your feelings were laid out now and there's no more hiding how you feel.

Leah smiles sadly and continues to hold you in her arms, "I... I'm sorry bubs," she speaks honestly.

"So many people, so many people have told me-- They've warned me, you've warned me about her, but I... I never wanted to listen, did I?" You confess, the tears spilling again and you don't care a less if you look like a blubbering mess right now, but you still can't stop the emotions pouring out right now, "And now... now I finally realise how its' always been. Why is she like this, Le?" You question.

"I can't say I know the answer to that one, bubs. I wish I knew," Leah replies, exhaling a sigh as she can't fathem herself how your mother can be like to her you, her own child.

The blonde feels so much for you, your still so young and she always wished that she can make the situation better for you.

"Listen, I know its' hard but you've got us. All of us girls here at arsenal, we're all here for you and you're so loved by all of us," Leah continues to tell you gently, running her slending fingers through your hair.

"I... I just want her to love me, and she just... she doesn't even care about my feelings!" You state, roughly trying to wipe at your tear stained cheeks to the point where you made them red and angry, "Why does she always throw everything back in my face? Everything that I have ever done, she makes it about herself. Always!" You cry.

"I know, I know it hurts... I know that it does," You keep your head buried in the blondes' chest as you hiccup from the sudden breakdown in the middle of the night, "And I'm sorry that you have to go through this. I'm so sorry, because it's not fair on you, bubs," She adds, trying to comfort you in the best way that she can for you.

The whole wave of emotions leave you feeling entirely exhausted in the end, you are trying to fight to keep your eyes open as you lie slumped up against the blonde.

"Come on you, lets' get you back into bed, yeah? I mean you're almost falling asleep on me here, bubs," Leah notes your exhaustion and is concerned for your lack of sleep, trying to get you to crack a smile even as it feels impossible right now, before she gently moves you to lie back in bed.

"M' not tired," You mumble, trying to protest against the idea of sleep.

"I don't think thats' true now, is it?" Leah chuckles, tucking you into bed, "I'm so sorry that you have to deal with this now, bubs, but you know that you have a family here with us. We may not be blood, but we really do love you so much," Before you know it, your eyes are fluttering shut but you don't miss hearing the blondes' words before she presses a gentle kiss against your forehead.

You really had found your family here at arsenal.

#arsenal x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal women x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #woso x reader

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just-a-ghost00 · 6 months ago

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What are they hiding from you?

Group 1 - Howl

Cards : 5 Ochre Sea Star - embrace rapid changes, king of wands, Power, Moonstone - find your natural rythm

There are a lot of sexual references subtly hidden in these cards. As I was shuffling your cards, the song Okay from Chase Atlantic was playing. Then as I started with the reading, two other songs played : Aerials- System of a down & Tied to your body - Monsta X. If you were doubting this person's attraction for you, here is your confirmation that they are into you. They feel a lot of desire for you and apparently they have finally decided to act upon it. There's a lot of fire in the air, excitement, giddiness. They can't wait to see your reaction when they reveal to you what they were hiding. And looking at the cards, that could be happening really soon. I'd say within a few days. This person will either bluntly tell you about their intentions or they will let something slip that will betray them. I was picturing fireworks for some reason. Maybe there's a carnival going on in your town or a festive even of some sort that you will attend to together. This would make sense because of the moonstone card I'm getting a night time energy. The next new or full moon seem to be significant. FIY, the next new moon happens on the 5th of July. Oh and July 4 is Independance day. It is a celebration. Well, if you were planning on celebrating this commemorial day with friends, the night could turn out to be interesting to say the least ;) The next full moon is happening on the 21st of July. So maybe these two dates will be important for you and the person you're thinking about.

Group 2 - Haku

Cards : 13 Dumbo Octopus - Stop chasing and attract what you desire, 2 of cups, reclaim, Bismuth - rewrite your code with rainbows

While I was shuffling your cards, the song Attitude from The GazettE was playing on my speaker. And as I started channeling and writing your messages, Teardrops from BMTH started playing. This person that you're thinking about is tired of waiting for love to come to them. They are tired of trying relationship after relationship just to be heartbroken and deceived by people. They are tired of waiting for you to make the first step. They want to hide from you that they love you and intend to conquer you. They want to step into your connection with a better and healthier energy than what they were into before. They are reclaiming their power and their place in your heart. They may have lost track of who they were and what they wanted from love, from the connection you shared, from their partnerships in general. They came out of a state of confusion and sadness. They've realised that they only live once, that fighting only to mourn what was lost is meaningless, that everything has a start and an end. Including their own life. They don't want to waste time crying or doing meaningless things. They want to live, to love, to laugh, to have fun with life so that they have no regret. They know that if they had given up on you, they'd have regreted it so they intend to come back. The reason they hide that from you is because they fear rejection. It may take some time before this person states their truth. If I had to give you an estimated timing, I would say several months.

Group 3 - Ashitaka

Demons in your dreams - Motionless in white BTBT - B.I ft DeVita and Soulja Boy Honeymoon avenue - Ariana Grande blueberry eyes - MAX ft SUGA

Cards : 25 Mantis shrimp - don't give up now, Destruction, Agate - find your solid ground, 8 of cups

There were several references to demons in the songs that were playing during your reading. Combined with the energy of Mantis shrimp and Destruction, it feels like your person is fighting inner and external battles. For some it could be related to addictions. This person is trying to move away from something that is detrimental to their healt, whether it's a person, a situation or a material thing. I'm picking up on several scenarios. I was getting for some that they are actually trying to cut ties with you. They are tired of fighting for something that they know deep down they can't change. They've been trying really hard but now they realize that moving on is the best thing they can do. But for others, this person is attached to you and loves you a ton but they know that there are things and people in their life that prevent them from being there for you, be a good person to you. Again that could be addictions, certain connections, or a toxic attitude overall when it comes to you. They are willing to put in the work in order to be a better version of themselves that you would be safe with. They are not telling you this because it is a very vulnerable period of their life which they do not wish to show. They feel like telling you would hurt you and the last thing they want to do is destroy what you have, regardless of whether they intend to stay or not. They don't want to be bad to you, they still care enough to be the bigger person and do what is necessary.

#pick a card #pac reading #spiritual pac #love pac #tarot reading #oracle reading #just-a-ghost

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mokulule · 2 years ago

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 3

Part 1|Part 2

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence

I'm not entirely happy with this, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Some things will probably be changed for the Ao3 version, this is very much first draft and I want to do a proper rewrite before then.

Jason parked his bike next to the Batmobile. There was a strange air in the Batcave or maybe it was just him being different. He couldn’t tell for sure. He stepped off the bike so he had his back towards Bruce, who sat by the Batcomputer with his cowl off. Jason could still feel his gaze when he looked up. He didn’t know what to feel. Where was he supposed to start?

“Little Wing!” Dick announced happily, suddenly slinging an arm across his shoulder from behind. It was only all his training that stopped him from jumping three feet into the air from the fright and he managed to just tense - but that was normal. Dick would consider that normal. Pull yourself together, Jason, he scolded himself. Normal, act normal, for one long moment he was grasping for what was normal. It definitely wasn’t the urge to lean into his big brother.

“Jay?” Dick asked quietly, worried, thankfully too quiet for anyone to hear. Panic grasped him and he elbowed Dick to get him off. Dick bent over with an oomph. At least elbowing Dick was a normal response, even if it was for the wrong reason.

Ignoring the strange urge to check on Dick, he squared his shoulders, firmly didn’t look back and walked forward towards the Batcomputer, where now that he had arrived the rest of this night’s patrol team gathered. Damian already out of his suit with damp hair and a towel slung around his neck glanced surreptitiously at Jason out the corner of his eyes even as he pretended to look towards Bruce - brat was still worried. Tim was curled up in an office chair doing who knew what with his laptop in a way that did not seem conducive to the healing of the broken ribs he’d been benched for. Bruce himself, paused what he was doing and spun around in his chair. Even sitting he managed to draw everyone’s attention, Tim even closed his laptop.

Jason purposefully crossed his arms and widened his stance. That’s what they expected of him, probably? How did he usually stand? He usually always felt one wrong comment away from a fight when he was here, he should stand like he expected it, right? Defensive.

This was exhausting.

At last Dick walked up to them completing their loose circle. He was rubbing his side and Jason felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he aggravated an existing wound? Shit. Fuck. What was wrong with him? Why was he so worried?

“Oracle,” Bruce spoke, “please start.”

“Thanks to Hood, we now have a better headshot of the thief,” Oracle announced from the computer speakers“The Ghost,” Dick interjected in a sing song voice, “after what happened tonight you can’t disagree.”“Nightwing,” Barbara replied flatly, she didn’t even need to say she thought it was a stupid name. “The thief,” she reiterated in a way that left no room for any other arguments and Dick wisely held his silence. At least Dick knew Barbara well enough when to stop. Finally she pulled two photos up on the large screen. The one on the right was an older/early photo with the green glassed goggles obstructing much of the upper half of the face, a grin was a sharp line of white on the lower half of the face in the blurry photo, the quality was terrible and caught in movement.

The newer photo on the left showed a young man, maybe even late teens, eyes were wide, bright green, not quite glowing and his face beet red in embarrassment, mouth slightly open - this was taken just after he’d pushed away from Jason. His goggles sat at the edge of his messy black hair, just high enough to see the way he was beginning to swell on his forehead where Jason had clocked him.

Jason looked from one picture to the other, something was off to him. The grin was an obvious difference, but these where snapped in very different moments, and he shouldn’t let different emotions cloud his judgment.

“He’s lost weight.” The realization hit him with the certainty of a sledgehammer.

There’s dubious mumbling around him, about the blurriness of the first picture. But Jason is unmoved, there’s a hollowness to the guy’s cheeks that wasn’t there before.

“We can’t really judge that sort of thing with the quality of the first image,” Barbara cut through the murmurs. Jason knows he right, but he doesn’t feel like arguing.

He doesn’t feel like arguing, it’s another realization that leaves him wrong footed and he’s not listening for a minute. Checking back into the conversation he only caught the tail end of the conversation that was apparently about the Meta’s skills.“-we can now add phase shifting powers-““Like a Ghost.”

Tim groaned and Barbara outright growled - Jason reevaluated his earlier thought that Dick knew Barbara’s limits. Damian had already accepted the logic and Bruce had long since become immune to this sort of Dick antic.

“Back on topic,” was all he said. “Tim.”

Tim opened his laptop back up.

“Yes, so the items the thief-” There was a small beat as everyone waited for Dick to interrupt, Tim was side-eyeing him but continued; “-is stealing are still painting a very alarming picture, and there is a multitude of very dangerous uses, not to mention what kind of world ending horror they could be built into. Luckily he didn’t get the prototype spectral calibrator tonight, and we’ll be keeping it here for the time being and set the project on an indefinite hold at Wayne Enterprise.”Tim looked up at Bruce. “We’ll be needing to monitor Star Labs as they have a similar project, but so far the Ghost has not operated outside of Gotham to our knowledge.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll arrange something.”

It was a signal for Tim to continue, “we’re still no closer to a way to capture him and the phase shifting is a whole other added concern. We’ll need to figure out if there’s something he can’t phase through, some denser materials perhaps. I just finished looking through tonight’s footage and from what I’m seeing at least the new filter program is holding up; both the audio and visuals have very few glitches now. But we still don’t know how he’s sending out the electromagnetic interference.”

“Ghoooost,” Dick said quietly under his breath.Tim’s left eye twitched dangerously. Jason couldn’t help smiling, it was very good he was wearing the helmet. Bruce once more ignored Dick looking to Damian.The kid straightened imperceptibly at the attention, it really was adorable, but his voice was as haughty as ever. “Blood sample is already being analyzed of course, tt.” Blood sample? Oh, that’s what Bruce had been doing on the roof, when Jason was distracted. A sick feeling rose in his stomach thinking of the blood, was Ghost even alive? He could be bleeding inside the head for all they knew.

“Hood,” Bruce asked quietly, “do you know why the Ghost reacted to you like that?”Jason stiffened. Fear grabbing cold onto his heart. There was no way he could tell them he thought it had to do with the pits. They’d think Jason was being influenced by the Ghost and bench him. He couldn’t let that happen, he needed answers. He didn’t need to fight his family.

“No damn clue,” he scoffed, hoping he sounded nonchalant and none of his panic shone through, “some weird trauma response? He’d just hit his head real good.”

Bruce looked at him dubiously, but he was clearly unwilling to risk pushing. Their truce was a tentative one after all, one they’d come to after many false starts and stops. Jason had never before been so glad for their tattered relationship.

“So to conclude,” Dick drew everyone’s attention off Jason, “the Ghost is still a mystery, we don’t know if he’s just a thief or a supervillain biding his time.”

“He’s not a supervillain.” Jason could have cursed himself, he’d just gotten their attention off him. Now he was forced to elaborate. “He’s not wearing any sort of body armor, just that hoodie.”

And he’d definitely broken some of his ribs landing on him, Jason thought with a pang of guilt.

“Not all villains wear body armor though,” Tim pointed out carefully, and now Tim was worried too, Jason had no clue what had given him away.

“The ones who engage in close combat with us usually do though,” Dick returned, and Jason could have hugged him for bailing him out again (if that had been normal, which it was NOT).

“He could just not be a very good villain?”

“Or he’s just banking on the fact that he’s very good at dodging,” Barbara interjected with annoyance before the discussion got out of hand, “or did you all just forget you’ve been chasing this guy for weeks without landing a substantial hit on him?” She could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

Dick scratched the back of his head sheepishly. Tim looked down at his computer. Damian scoffed, trying to look unaffected but that was definitely almost a pout.

Bruce’s eyes twinkled in amusement as he stood up and was that almost a smile? How was this happening? It felt… His fingers dug into his arms. It felt like all the things Jason had convinced himself had never really been there. And there was Bruce’s hand landing on Damian’s shoulder; a silent comfort-encouragement, because Bruce was terrible with words but his touches always spoke volumes. And as the small smile bloomed on Damian’s face and he quickly looked away to hide it, Jason remembered exactly how that felt. Shit.

“Oracle, that’s all for tonight, we’re not getting anywhere without more information.”

“You got it, B, Oracle out.”

Jason spun and stalked towards his bike, before he did something, he didn’t know what exactly.

“Jay?”

Bruce’s voice stopped him in place. He glanced over his shoulder to see them all watching him. Don’t give anything away, he scolded himself.

“What is it, old man?” Jason asked trying to interject as much annoyance into his voice as he could, but it was so hard dredging up any of that when they looked at him worried like that, and his chest ached and he just sounded tired.

“It’s late,” Bruce said with a small unconscious wave of his hand as if anyone could tell the time of day from within the cave, “you could stay the night?”

After a beat he added, “Alfred would love to see you.”

Jason’s jaw clenched. Alfred would, but that’s not what Bruce was really saying, he was saying he would love to have him stay, but didn’t think Jason would be receptive to that and so he brought out the Alfred card. It was plain as day and how had Jason never seen that? Seen the longing on his dad’s face? His chest ached, he knew why. He was always so busy reading everything Bruce did as him trying to control him, every interaction tinted in green. His chest ached. Every inch of his body wanted to stay, to take a step back, see where this could lead, but he couldn’t.

He had to act normal. Normal Jason would never. Normal Jason could be back tomorrow for all he knew. He couldn’t do that to any of them, to himself.

With great difficulty he tore his gaze away from his family and walked the last steps over to his bike.

“Tell Alfred I’ll be coming over for tea on Tuesday,” he said loudly over the noise of his bike, not looking, because he didn’t want to see any of their reactions, then he tore out of there.

This was better for everyone.

Poor Jay really is having the time of it, maybe next part he'll get to actually enjoy not being angry.

next Masterpost for subscription link

#dead on main #poor Jason has no idea how to act #when he's not perpetually angry #also he just really wants a hug from his dad #but that would be WEIRD #bruce is a good dad #Missed connections #Jason is catnip to Danny #thought sadly no Danny this snippet #probably next time though

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pearypie · 2 months ago

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I made a meta post about Ophelia like 3 years ago on a blog I have since deleted. Here's me trying to rewrite it without the twitterspeak.

I feel like a semi-popular take back when LB2 first came out on NA was that Ophelia was not actually in love with Kirschtaria, that she had mistaken admiration for love out of compulsive heterosexuality, and that she was actually in love with Mash.

I think the first two parts of that statement just straight up aren't true. It's a cool idea, but I just don't think you can dismiss her feelings for him as fake without dismissing her arc entirely? At that point, it's just a different character.

Ophelia isn't mistaking admiration for love; the entire first half of her arc is the reverse, with people constantly trying to get her to admit that she is in love as she insists that the only thing she feels for Kirschtaria is admiration. "Admiration" isn't consistent with the weird, singleminded devotion she has towards him. This is pointed out. She eventually admits she is bullshitting you.

Yes, it's true that she makes no real attempt to act on her feelings for him, but she makes no real attempt to act on her feelings about literally anything... which is, you know, the point of her character arc. She doesn't love Kirschtaria because a relationship between them will never happen; I think it's more accurate to say that the impossibility of those feelings are why she refuses to admit she loves him, and why it's so important to her development that she does.

So she expresses her feelings for Kirschtaria by doing her best to advance his goals. It's the only way she knows how. But her behavior towards Mash is actually kind of similar; she debuffs her own servant when he attacks her (knowing damn well that the whole Lostbelt is screwed if he "dies"). That's a bit much for "I want to be her friend." On her deathbed and throughout the Lostbelt, she herself admits that her feelings for Kirschtaria and her "desire to befriend" Mash are in direct conflict; she can't commit to fighting Mash, but she can't betray Kirschtaria, either. It's an either/or. She's being pulled in opposite directions.

Almost as if her feelings for Mash and her feelings for Kirschtaria are similar.

Ophelia doesn't even know Kirschtaria that well. They didn't talk much in Chaldea, no matter how much she wished to. They aren't particularly close. All she really knows is that he risked his life to revive the other Crypters, but that's just one moment she has zero context for. Why would she be in love with him?

Ophelia doesn't know a single thing about Mash except for the general circumstances of her creation, which she can see herself in. They didn't talk at all in Chaldea, no matter how much Ophelia wished to. The Mash she sees now, in front of her in the Lostbelt, is an entirely different person -- strong, beautiful, self-assured, nothing like Ophelia. An enemy that must be defeated at all costs. Why would Ophelia want to get closer to her?

And with Mash, you can read it how you wish -- platonic or romantic doesn't matter so much. The irrational part of Ophelia's feelings for Mash is that they exist in the first place, where the irrational part of her feelings for Kirschtaria is that they're specifically romantic. It makes sense for Ophelia to admire Kirschtaria's power, and it makes sense for her to admire him as a person. These are consistent with the stories she tells about herself. But it doesn't make sense that she's in love with Kirschtaria, and that's why it's important that she does. It doesn't make sense that she'd want to be friends (or more) with Mash; that's why it's important that she does. I'm sure the intention is "just friends", but the way it's positioned in the story -- in opposition to Ophelia's loyalty to Kirschtaria -- implies much more. So YMMV.

Ophelia is ashamed of herself for having feelings she can't explain, for being hopelessly devoted to a man she barely knows, for selfishly wanting to get closer to a sworn enemy. She hates herself for having these desires because she knows they'll never be realized. She's supposed to be competent! She's supposed to have her shit handled! She shouldn't be preoccupied with regrets and impossibilities. That's the central conflict of her emotional development; the "irrationality" is precisely what makes those emotions important.

Her feelings for Kirschtaria and her feelings for Mash are, ultimately, two sides of the same coin. Either/or. So I think that acknowledging Ophelia's feelings for Kirschtaria as valid actually strengthens the argument that she's in love with Mash.

She's torn between her feelings for two people. She doesn't have the strength of will to fully commit to fighting Mash, but she'll never betray Kirschtaria, either. She can't decide whether she loves or resents her parents. She can't decide whether she wants to interact with or shun others.

Ophelia's problem is that she lacks the confidence, maturity, and resolve to follow through on her own emotions. She can't be true to herself. But her emotions contradict themselves, and she herself doesn't know what being "true to herself" would actually look like. So the resolution isn't just to pick a side and stick to it...

Ophelia's coming-of-age story is about having the confidence to acknowledge her own feelings, the maturity to understand that they're still valid despite being irrational, and the resolve to know that she's no less of a person because of it. Yes, she and Kirschtaria wouldn't be a good match. Yes, the idea that she and Mash could have any sort of relationship considering the circumstances is bizarre. But those feelings exist, and there's nothing wrong with her for having them.

She thinks Mash and Kirschtaria are an either/or, but those desires can exist simultaneously. She's fine the way she is, contradictions and all. And it's only when she realizes that that she's able to get up and stop Surtr.

TLDR: Ophelia's feelings for Kirschtaria and her feelings for Mash are inextricably linked because they occupy the same role in Ophelia's character arc. I think she is probably bisexual. I wish she got more screentime. I reread her FLB chapter and now she's my favorite Crypter again.

#ophelia phamrsolone #mash kyrielight #kirschtaria wodime #fgo #meta

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whosscruffylooking · 1 month ago

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Open Arms Chapter Three

steve harrington x fem!reader Open Arms Masterlist word count: 9k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things ~1984~ a/n: this is the final rewrite chapter for season 2. the next few chapters will take place between seasons, before we jump into season 3. i'm torn between having the reader and steve already happily in love, or building their relationship with a slower, more gradual "slow burn" approach. let me know if you have a preference on which direction you'd like to see their story go. ⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The house is still. Despite the number of people inside, everything—and everyone—feels frozen. The air hangs heavy, dense enough that even a falling leaf would plummet straight down instead of drifting aimlessly.

In that oppressive silence, Nancy’s hand rests gently on Jonathan’s shoulder as he murmurs soft, repeated apologies to his unconscious brother. Hopper’s voice thunders from another room, shouting into the phone at God knows who. The stark contrast between Jonathan’s whispered pleas and Hopper’s roaring urgency only adds to the weight pressing down on all of you.

Your gaze flicks between Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve. But Steve’s attention is fixed entirely on her. His expression is unreadable, a puzzle you can’t help but want to solve. Slowly, you step closer, your heart pounding as you search his face for some unspoken answer buried in his eyes. As if sensing your approach, Steve straightens, brushing a hand over his face in a failed attempt to mask the quiet sniffle that escapes. When his bloodshot eyes finally meet yours, you feel a pang of something you can’t quite name—pity, frustration, or maybe just the ache of knowing him so well.

This is the Steve you’ve always known—bold and self-assured, with a fiercely loyal heart that makes him impossible to walk away from. But tonight, his edges are frayed, his armor cracked under the weight of everything he’s faced. He doesn’t just observe the heaviness in the room; he feels it, wearing it like a second skin. As he watches Nancy with Jonathan—her hand on his shoulder, her gaze soft in a way Steve hasn’t seen in years—the truth settles quietly: Nancy isn’t his anymore. Her heart belongs to someone else. Yet instead of hurt, Steve feels peace—peace in letting go and realizing he might finally belong somewhere too.

Steve’s gaze shifts back to you, his jaw tightening, his hand flexing at his side as though resisting an urge he can’t quite act on. His eyes hold an intensity that sends a shiver through you. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen him look at you like this, but now it feels heavier, more deliberate.

His hand brushes lightly across your stomach, guiding you to follow him, his silent invitation impossible to ignore. He leads you into the kitchen, where he leans back against the counter. You steady yourself beside him, your fingertips accidentally grazing his, sparking a thrill of nerves. You hold your breath, unsure of what he might do now that Nancy’s here, lingering so close. But instead of pulling away, he surprises you—sliding his finger between yours, linking them together. In that small, quiet gesture, he says everything: I’m here. We’re here, and we’re in this together.

You both stay there, fingers subtly intertwined, as the kids reminisce about Bob.

Your mind drifts back to that summer you washed cars tirelessly, saving every dollar for a Walkman. You remember the pride you felt when you finally walked into RadioShack and handed Bob your hard-earned cash. He showed you how to use it, and from that day on, whenever he saw you, he made sure you knew about the latest and greatest models. He ignited your love for collecting them, and in a way, he fed your love of music. Bob is a hero, gone far too soon. Now, a fierce need for revenge against those monsters burns within you, alongside a deep desire to honor the memory of Bob Newby, the town’s unsung hero.

“We can’t let him die in vain,” you say, breaking the silence.

Dustin huffs in frustration. “Well, we can’t take down those Demo-dogs on our own.”

“Demo-dogs?” Max repeats, confused.

He shoots her an irritated look. “Demogorgon dogs. Demo-dogs. It’s like… a compound word. A play on words…”

You raise your eyebrows, giving Max a sarcastic nod. “Yeah, Max. Keep up.” She giggles despite the tension.

“There’s an army now,” Lucas says, his tone filled with doubt.

Mike’s voice cuts through the chatter. “His army.”

Steve perks up, his focus shifting. “What do you mean?”

The group gathers closer, ideas bouncing back and forth as Dustin pieces it together, dubbing the creature “the Mind Flayer.” You lean against the table, feeling Steve’s gaze on you again, steady and unwavering.

Nancy notices too, her eyes darting between the two of you. She sees the fear flickering in your eyes and the fierce determination in Steve’s to shield you from this nightmare. But it’s more than determination—there’s an intimacy there, a connection that echoes a past she knows the two of you share. She should feel jealous; after all, she spent the last year with this man, the one now looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever known. As Jonathan’s hand brushes hers, she feels something else—guilt.

Nancy squeezes Jonathan’s hand, grounding herself, but her gaze flicks back to Steve one last time.

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Here’s the next section revised into present tense:

At last, the plan is in place. You split into groups, and you find yourself alongside Jonathan, while Nancy and Steve head into the shed to transform it into something unrecognizable for Will.

“So… you and Nancy, huh?” you tease, nudging Jonathan lightly.

His cheeks flush, and he glances away. “Is it that obvious?”

“Not really. I just like to think I know you well enough to tell when you’re truly happy.”

He sighs, his shoulders sagging under the weight of everything that’s happened. “I shouldn’t be, though. While I was with Nancy, Will was here… suffering.”

“Jonathan,” you say gently, your voice firm, “you weren’t just off with Nancy. You were uncovering the truth, fighting for justice for Barb, and exposing something that could have swallowed Hawkins whole. When we get Will back, he’s going to be so proud of what you did to help stop this.”

You rest a hand on his arm, offering reassurance, and for a moment, Jonathan meets your eyes. There’s gratitude in his expression.

In the shed, Nancy and Steve work tirelessly, stapling whatever they can find to the walls in a desperate attempt to reach Will. The air between them feels lighter, but there’s still a lingering tension, a subtle unease that neither of them wants to name.

Nancy hesitates, stealing a glance at Steve before swallowing her pride. “Hey. What you did—helping the kids, keeping them safe… that was really cool.”

Steve blinks, surprised by the compliment. Not long ago, her words chipped away at every ounce of confidence he had—in himself, in his worth as a boyfriend, even in the kind of man he wants to be. But now, as her words settle in, it isn’t Nancy he’s thinking about. It’s you.

He thinks of all those years when he’d felt a nagging emptiness—not smart enough to impress his teachers, not strong enough to earn his father’s respect, not sure he’d ever be the guy to win over the girl. And yet, through it all, you’ve been there. You were always there, quietly anchoring him in a way he hadn’t fully understood until now. All those fleeting touches, secret smiles, and stolen moments with you—the girl everyone teased him about, the one he swore he wasn’t in love with—have built something stronger than he ever realized.

The Steve of yesterday might have begged Nancy to reconsider, to tell him she’d made a mistake and still loved him. But the Steve of today doesn’t need to. He knows now that Nancy wasn’t meant for him, just as he wasn’t meant for her. He had known it the day he found her and Jonathan in the Byers’ living room, their hands bound by blood, their connection undeniable. They belong together, and maybe they always have.

But Steve also knows where he belongs now. For so long, he believed that love meant chasing, proving, or convincing someone to choose him. Yet when he looks at you—standing just outside the shed, picking up an axe with confident hands—it’s like the weapon belongs to you. You hold it naturally, without hesitation. Steve feels a pull so steady and certain it leaves no room for doubt. He doesn’t have to beg for your love because it’s already there, as it’s always been.

Nancy notices it once again. There’s that same feeling from earlier—guilt. Guilt for trying to mold Steve into a part of her life that never truly fit. Deep down, she has always known where her heart belongs. And now, watching the way you and Steve gravitate toward each other, she realizes something else: maybe his heart has never fully belonged to her either. The way he looks at you—like you’re the only thing keeping him from crumbling under the weight of it all—it’s a look she’s never seen him give her. And somehow, someway, she’s at peace with that.

You step into the shed, your steps hesitant as you cross into the quiet space. “Am I interrupting something?” you ask, your voice tentative.

“No! Not at all,” Nancy says quickly, offering you a smile that’s softer than you expect. “Actually, thank you. For everything. You didn’t have to get involved in all this, but we really need you.”

You blink in surprise at her sincerity but manage to find your voice. “Of course. I just… I wish I could’ve done more sooner. And I’m sorry. For… for Barb and everything else.” There’s a double meaning in your words, one that lingers unspoken, but you hope Nancy hears it anyway.

Silence settles between the three of you, awkward but not hostile. “Well,” you say, stepping back toward the door, “I guess you guys have it covered in here. I’ll, uh… I’ll let you get back to it.”

You leave quickly, your heart racing for reasons you can’t quite pin down. But as you glance over your shoulder one last time, you catch Steve watching you. You nod, and he smiles—soft and sure, like he’s been waiting for this. Then you step into the night, his gaze still lingering in your mind.

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While Joyce, Mike, Hopper, Jonathan, and Will are all out in the shed, the rest of you stay inside.

You wait in the dim living room with Steve, backs pressed against the wall. Tensions are high, but in this quiet moment, with danger pressing in around you, both your walls are down.

“So…” you start, biting your lip as you realize you’ve spoken just to fill the silence, only to find yourself without anything to say.

“So.”

“Are we… good?” you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.

Steve leans his head back against the wall, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows down the lump that’s been there every time you two have drifted to the edge of this conversation over the years.

“I don’t think we’ve ever been this perfect.”

There it is. The words hang heavy in the air, and tears spring to your eyes.

He starts again, his voice softer this time. “Friends don’t make each other feel like this.”

“Like what?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“Like if one of those monsters bursts through that door, there’s a chance I could lose my everything. My whole world. And there’s no chance I’d survive if that happened.”

“Y-your whole world… meaning?” The words catch in your throat, the weight of them hitting you before you can make sense of them.

He nods, his eyes locked on yours, confirming every word he just said.

“Not… not…” You glance toward the other room, where Nancy is sitting, unsure if you want the answer.

“No.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s firm. The vulnerability in his eyes is so raw it almost breaks you.

Your heart races. His whole world. You don’t need him to say anything else—the depth of what he’s admitting is clear, and yet you can’t find the words to match it. The truth of it hangs between you, painful and perfect, all at once.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you speak, your voice trembling but steady. “Then I guess we have to survive tonight… so we can have a very important conversation tomorrow.”

Steve sighs, his gaze shifting upward as he stares at the ceiling, clearly lost in thought. His breathing catches slightly as he imagines what he wants, growing heavier with each passing second. “If we get out of here, I wanna do a lot more than just have a conversation with you.” He finally looks back at you, his eyes dark with intent, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You swallow, your heart thudding in your chest, caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. You shift closer to him, trying to match his teasing intensity, but your voice comes out softer, playful despite the tension. “Then you better not let anything stupid happen to you tonight, Harrington.” You raise an eyebrow, a hint of challenge in your tone.

Right on cue, the ominous roars of the Demodogs reverberate in the distance. You, along with everyone else, rush to your feet.

“They’re coming!” Dustin announces.

“He found us,” you whisper.

Those who were in the shed, along with an unconscious Will, rush inside, their faces drained of color as the roars outside grow louder. Nancy grabs your axe from the table and extends it to you, a hint of mischief and excitement in her eyes. She secretly gets a thrill out of this, just like you do.

Your grip tightens around the axe, a firm resolve anchoring you. Just days ago, you didn’t even know the Upside Down—or the horrors within it—existed. But tonight, it’s as if you’ve been preparing for this moment your whole life. You look to Steve and tap your axe to his bat in solidarity. You’re ready to face whatever comes, together. There’s so much to defend now—not just your friends, not just your own life, but the fragile, precious hope of a future you’ve waited so long to finally feel within reach.

You all gather together, a mismatched group bound by a shared resolve, ready to fight with everything you’ve got to save your friend—and the town you call home. For Bob, you think.

The sound of the creatures’ footsteps surrounds you from every corner outside the house, making it impossible to pinpoint where to aim your weapon. Their skin-crawling screeches and chittering seep through the walls, sending an icy chill down your spine.

“What are they doing?” you ask, breathless with fear.

Suddenly, the screeching cuts off, and one of the creatures comes crashing through the window, glass shattering in every direction. You all step forward cautiously, you more than the others. After a tense moment, you tap it with your axe. “It’s dead.”

Before you can catch your breath, you hear the front door’s lock turn. In sync, everyone shifts their attention toward it. The door creaks open, and in walks a girl—dressed in all black, her hair slicked back, jeans unevenly cuffed. A trickle of blood runs from her nose.

This must be El—the girl Mike is in love with, the one everyone was so sure had been lost forever.

Mike rushes to Eleven, asking, “Why didn’t you tell me you were safe?” His joy quickly fades when he realizes Hopper has been the one hiding her. A fight erupts and Hopper rushes Mike into the next room.

Eleven turns to rejoin her friends, but her sharp, assessing gaze lands on Max. You step forward with a gentle smile, determined to diffuse the tension.

“I’m Y/N,” you say softly. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

El’s expression shifts slightly, her features softening as her piercing glare toward Max wanes. She seems to recognize something in you—an ally, not a threat.

“Thanks,” Max murmurs quietly, the relief evident in her voice.

You glance toward Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, then back to Max, offering a knowing smile. “Believe me,” you say with a touch of humor, “I get it.”

Max’s lips twitch into a tentative smile, and for the first time, El’s icy demeanor seems to thaw just a bit. A quiet chuckle passes between you and Max as she begins to piece together the reason behind El’s frosty reception.

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Once everyone settles, you all reconvene to finalize the next steps now that Eleven is here to close the gate to the Upside Down. There’s a tension in the air, a quiet urgency to everything. Every minute counts, but there’s no room for fear—not now. The stakes are higher than ever, and all of you can feel it.

The plan is set: to free Will from the beast’s grip, he’ll need to experience intense heat. The thought of what he has to go through sickens you, but you know there is no choice.

Once again, you split into groups. Steve’s gaze lingers on you as you organize everything. It’s clear he wants to stay close, to keep you safe. And you want the same. But you can’t let that get in the way. There’s no room for distractions now.

Nancy, on the other hand, hesitates. Her eyes flicker to Jonathan, and you see the guilt in her expression—she wants to go with him, knowing he’ll be heading to Hopper’s cabin with his mom and Will. But something keeps her rooted to the spot. The ghosts of old decisions, the moments when she chose Jonathan over Steve, seem to haunt her every step. You know how she feels, even if she won’t admit it. It’s a complicated web, and there’s no way out but through.

Taking a steadying breath, you volunteer Steve and Nancy to sift through the yard junk for heaters. They both look at you with surprise, clearly not expecting to be sent together again. But you know they need this moment, this chance to work together. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll give them a bit of closure. Something to put the past behind them. It’s not much, but it’s a step.

They reluctantly go, and you busy yourself with whatever you can do to help the kids inside. It feels like everything is moving so fast, the world spinning, and you’re just trying to hold on.

Outside, Steve and Nancy busy themselves with the junk pile. The silence feels like it lasts an eternity.

“You should go with him,” Steve says to Nancy, his tone quiet but firm.

Nancy looks up, confusion written across her face.

“With Jonathan,” he states.

She scoffs, shaking her head. “No, I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”

Steve steps closer, picking up a heater she’d found and handing it to her gently. “No one’s leaving anyone, Nance. I may not have been the best boyfriend, but… turns out, I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter. And besides…” He glances towards the house, where you’re trying to hold everything together, “I have help.”

Nancy looks at him, her voice softer now. “Steve…”

He smiles a little, though it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “It’s okay, Nance. It’s okay.”

There’s a long pause, and then Nancy’s eyes soften, her shoulders drooping in a way that shows the weight she’s carried for so long. “You know, I’m glad…” she says quietly, hesitating before finishing, “I’m glad you have… help.” She nods slightly in your direction.

Steve exhales deeply, feeling something in him finally loosen, as if Nancy’s words have given him permission to finally let go of the lingering tension. It’s a relief, but also a sad one. Because it’s not the resolution he wanted, but it’s the one that’s here. And for once, it feels like the first step towards peace.

“I actually have something I want to ask her,” Nancy says, giving Steve a quick squeeze on his arm as she walks away.

Nancy finds you inside, her hand gently grabbing your arm. “Hey, can I ask a favor?”

You look at her, unsure of what she’s about to ask. It’s strange, given everything that’s happened. Nancy’s been with both of your childhood friends, and you… well, you’ve been secretly in love with her ex. The air between you is thick with unspoken history and tangled emotions.

“Can you look after Mike for me?” Nancy asks quietly, almost nervously. “You’ve always been like a big sister to the boys, and… well, I can’t be there for him right now.”

Without thinking, you pull Nancy into a tight hug. “You know I’ll protect him like he’s my own little brother,” you reassure her softly, your voice steady despite the chaotic feeling inside.

Nancy lets out a shaky sob, her voice breaking. “I’m scared.”

You pull back slightly, wiping away a stray tear from her cheek. “I know. But if anyone can handle all of this, it’s you. In case you haven’t noticed… you’re kind of a badass,” you say, trying to lighten the mood just a little.

She chuckles, though it’s muffled by her tears. “Thanks,” she says quietly, her voice still cracking, but there’s a spark of something in her eyes—maybe hope.

You hold her for a moment longer before she pulls away, offering you one last sad smile before heading out.

As she walks away, you spot Mike, standing alone in the corner, his face a mask of quiet devastation. His tears are falling silently as he watches the girl he just got back slip away from him once again. Without thinking, you walk over to him and wrap a comforting arm around his shoulders. No words are needed. He doesn’t need to hear anything right now. All he needs is to feel your silent support, your steady presence in the storm.

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Inside, the kids have come up with a bold plan to help Eleven and Will. It’s risky, but it just might work. It requires going into the tunnels buried deep beneath Hawkins, the map that Will made. You can see the logic in it, but Steve is having none of it.

“Hey! This is not happening. No buts. I promised I’d keep you guys safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job,” Steve says, his voice unwavering, protective.

“Does everybody understand?”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game,” Mike fires back.

“I said, does everybody understand that? I need a yes.”

You suppress a giggle at Steve’s surprisingly maternal tone. He’s serious, but there’s something comforting in it too—something that makes you feel, for a second, like everything will be okay.

Just as the tension peaks, the roar of an engine cuts through the air, making everyone jump. Max rushes to the window, her face draining of color. “It’s my brother. He can’t know we’re here. He’ll kill us.”

“Crap,” you mutter under your breath, panic setting in.

“What?” Steve asks, his frown deepening.

“I kind of forgot I had a date with Billy tonight.”

“You what!?” Steve exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief, his frustration bubbling over. “You had a date with Billy?”

“I was bored, and he asked me out last week. I wasn’t looking for anything more than a distraction,” you explain quickly, trying to downplay the situation.

“And you had to pick him as the distraction!?” Steve says, voice dripping with exasperation.

“Steve, this is really not the time to have this conversation,” you say, nudging him toward the door, trying to push aside the tension building between you two.

You quickly motion for the kids to hide, and despite his irritation, Steve swallows his pride and steps into action, focusing on getting Billy out of the way. His annoyance with you fades—momentarily—as the bigger picture takes precedence.

Peering through the peephole of the door, you try to hear what’s going on outside, but the muffled voices barely reach you. All you can make out is that, somehow, both men look equally stunning in their jeans. Truly, works of art.

But it’s Steve who keeps your attention. This is King Steve in his prime. He’s cool, collected, calm in the face of danger—no trace of fear in his demeanor. It’s a side of him that always caught your eye, but now, in this moment, seeing him like this, your heart pounds in your chest. It’s a protective side of him, the side that would do anything to keep you safe.

Suddenly, both men turn toward the window.

You snap your head over and see the kids, wide-eyed and standing at the window like idiots. “What did I tell you!?” you whisper-yell, panic creeping into your voice. You turn back to see Billy slam Steve to the ground, his strength too much for the man to handle in the moment.

“Get behind me!” you shout to the kids, feeling the urgency in your voice.

Billy crashes through the door, his expression shifting from rage to surprise when he sees you standing there.

“Y/N,” he says, voice dripping with a mix of venom and curiosity. “You’re the last person I expected to see here. Although, I’ve heard some… interesting things about you and Harrington.”

You square your shoulders, refusing to show even the slightest trace of fear. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you I can’t make it to our date tonight.”

“No,” Billy sneers, closing the space between you. “I don’t want Harrington’s sloppy seconds anyway.”

He takes another step, his breath grazing against your skin. “Now step aside, and let me talk to my sister.”

You push your fist gently against his chest, unflinching as you meet his eyes. “Billy, don’t. They’re just kids—let them hang out and have fun.”

Something dark flashes across his eyes, his patience thinning. “I said, step aside,” he growls, pushing past you with force and locking his gaze on Lucas. You stand your ground, knowing you’re not backing down. You’ll protect these kids, no matter what.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max. And you know what happens when you disobey me. I break things.” He sweeps Lucas off his feet and slams him into the refrigerator. You run to his side attempting to pull him off of Lucas, to no avail.

“Billy, stop!” You grab hold of his arms. He looks at you for a brief moment and Lucas takes the opportunity to knee him in the crotch. Billy doubles over, wincing in pain.

“You’re so dead, Sinclair! You’re dead,” he spits, his voice full of fury as he glares at Lucas.

Before you can even process what’s happening, Steve bursts in, shoving you and Lucas behind him, positioning himself between you and Billy with a protective stance.

“No. You are.” He says before landing a solid punch to Billy’s jaw.

Billy laughs menacingly, his voice dripping with mockery. “Looks like you’ve got some fire in you after all, huh? Been waiting to meet this King Steve everyone’s been talking about.”

“Get out,” Steve warns, his tone cold and steady.

And like a trigger, Billy is launching another punch at Steve. Thankfully, he evades it and rebuttals, his fist making contact with Billy once more. Billy swiftly recovers, his movements sharp and brutal. He grabs a plate from the nearby counter and smashes it onto Steve’s head, sending shards flying everywhere and disorienting him. Billy drives a knee into Steve’s throat. Steve gasps, choking at the impact.

You lunge forward, desperate to defend Steve, but he manages to choke out a barely audible, “No.” Billy seizes the opportunity, his attention quickly shifting to you, sensing your hesitation. Before you can react, he lunges at you, his hands reaching for your throat.

But Steve, still struggling to regain his strength, forces himself to push through the pain. His vision is blurry, and his head spins, but the sight of you in danger snaps him into action. With a growl of determination, he forces himself up, gritting his teeth against the pain as he tackles Billy to the ground, knocking him off balance.

Billy lets out a shout of anger, but Steve is relentless. He fights through his disorientation, throwing punch after punch, not allowing Billy a moment to recover. "Stay away from her!" Steve snarls, his voice filled with pure protectiveness as he shields you with his body.

Their struggle quickly moves into the living room, the sound of their grunts and the thud of fists against flesh filling the air. Billy, fueled by anger, overpowers Steve with brutal force. He pins Steve to the ground, delivering a hard punch to his jaw that sends a jolt of pain through Steve's entire body.

Fully depleted now, Steve endures blow after blow as Billy’s fists rain down on him. You want to cry, but the tears won’t come. Your body refuses to let you break down—not now. There’s no time for that. All that matters is thinking clearly and protecting your best friend.

The sedative. Where is the sedative they used on Will? Adrenaline surges through you as you search frantically, finally spotting it next to Max.

“MAX!” you shout, motioning to the syringe. She quickly hands it to you, and you rush to Steve’s side. With a swift motion, you jam the needle into Billy’s neck, pushing the plunger and releasing the toxin.

Billy looks at you, shock flooding his expression. Your breaths are uneven as you take a step back, trying to steady yourself. He staggers to his feet, the sedative starting to take hold. “What did you do to me?” he demands, his voice laced with disbelief.

“Don’t you ever touch him again,” you growl, stepping right into his space, daring him to make another move.

The silence after your shout feels suffocating, broken only by the shallow, ragged breaths coming from Steve. His bloodied face is pale, far too pale.

“Steve, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You promised me, remember?”

He stirs faintly at your words, his lashes fluttering, but his eyes remain closed.

“Lucas! Dustin!” you shout, desperation cracking through the last fragile shred of composure. “Help me get him up! Now!”

The boys rush over, wide-eyed and terrified. Together, they help lift Steve’s limp form, his head lolling against your shoulder. You cradle the back of his neck with one hand, holding him close as you stumble toward the car.

Max’s tearful voice barely registers, sharp and angry as she shouts at Billy. But you can’t care about him. Not now. Not when Steve is barely conscious.

“I swear to God, Harrington,” you mutter through gritted teeth, your voice tight with anger and fear.

You glance down at him as you help load him into the backseat, your hand trembling as it brushes over his bloodied cheek.

Reluctantly, you climb into the driver’s seat, stealing one last glance at him before gripping the wheel. Only a few days ago, you’d driven him home drunk from a party, his laughter slurring together as he teased you the entire ride. You never thought you’d be doing the same thing now—except this time, with blood on his face and fear in your chest.

“Where to?” You ask. “The pumpkin patch, we’ll direct you,” Mike replies. The engine roars to life, the car lurching forward as you tear down the road. “Keep him awake, guys,” you say, glancing into the rearview mirror. The boys nod hurriedly, their voices soft but urgent as they try to rouse him.

Dustin shakes Steve a little too aggressively. “Hey, buddy...It's okay. You put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a fight. You're okay.”

The car jolts over a pothole, and you wince, glancing back. “Sorry,” you murmur, guilt twisting in your stomach.

Steve’s head shifts, his lips parting like he wants to say something, but all that comes out is a faint, pained sigh.

“Don’t even think about talking,” you snap, though your tone softens almost immediately. “Save it. You’re gonna need all your strength in a minute and don’t eyen get me started on tomorrow when I chew you out for this.” You force a bitter laugh, the sound more broken than you mean for it to be. “Trust me, Harrington, I will.”

A low groan escapes him, and his head turns slightly toward you, as if he’s trying to acknowledge your words.

Your hands tighten on the wheel as the car screeches to a stop outside the pumpkin patch. The boys jump out, voices overlapping as they shout about getting their supplies and jumping into the tunnels. But you stay frozen for a moment, staring back at Steve.

“I meant it, you know,” you whisper, leaning back to catch one last glimpse of his face. “You’ve got one night to pull yourself together, Harrington. Because tomorrow? You and I—we’re not leaving anything unsaid.”

His swollen lips twitch into a faint smirk. “Oh, I’m holding out, alright. For what I’m planning to do to you when all this is over.”

Your breath catches, and you freeze, staring at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He lets out a weak, pained chuckle. “What? You think I’m gonna go down without giving you something to think about?”

You scoff, trying to keep your composure, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you. “Hawkins is literally falling apart, Steve. You’re half-dead, we’re about to crawl into another dimension, tomorrow could change everything between us, and that’s what you’re focused on?”

“Gotta have priorities,” he murmurs, the smirk still somehow hanging on despite the pain etched across his face.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the way your heart stumbles in your chest. “Unbelievable,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Just try not to get yourself killed before you can make good on all these big plans, Harrington.”

His smirk softens just slightly, something warmer flickering in his gaze before his eyelids grow heavy again. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Now c’mon, let’s go play with fire,” you say with a wink before stepping out of the car.

“Wait! Wait!” Steve calls after you, hobbling out of the car despite the pain etched on his face. “You and the kids are not going down there,” he insists, his voice firm, though his winces betray him.

You spin around to meet him, crossing your arms. “Right. Because you’re clearly in peak condition to handle this yourself,” you retort, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

Steve takes a sharp breath, steadying himself. “It could be another ambush,” he counters, his voice softer now but laced with concern. His hand reaches out, catching your arm gently as if holding you in place will keep you safe.

You glance at his hand, then back at him. “Well…” You slip your hand into his pocket, fishing around, which earns you a heavy sigh and a wide-eyed stare from him. His breath hitches, his cheeks tinged pink.

“What are you doing?” he manages, his voice cracking slightly.

You pull out his lighter and hold it up with a smirk. “Good thing we have fire and they don’t,” you say, a teasing glint in your eye.

Steve exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he shakes his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, half in awe and half exasperated, but the small grin tugging at his lips gives him away.

“Now is not the time for your soap opera romance, people! Focus! Your job is to keep us alive,” Dustin grumbles, shoving bandanas and your weapons at both of you like an annoyed parent.

You stifle a laugh as you take one and wrap it around your face. Then, turning to Steve, you adjust his for him, tying it snugly behind his head.

“Thanks, mom,” Steve quips, his voice muffled through the fabric.

“Hey, at least she knows how to multitask,” Dustin fires back, rolling his eyes as he marches ahead into the tunnels.

You drop down into the dark tunnels behind the others, the strange, glowing particles swirling in the air like tiny stars. It’s eerie—ominous, even—but there’s a haunting beauty to it that almost distracts you from the danger. Almost.

“I’m pretty sure it’s this way. Follow me!” Mike announces, charging ahead with way too much confidence.

Steve stops him with an outstretched arm. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. No way. If any of you get hurt—or worse—down here, it’s my head on the chopping block. From now on, I’m leading the way. Got it?”

The kids exchange uncertain glances, and you catch yourself smiling. Watching Steve take charge, all protective and responsible, makes your heart ache in the best way. He’d make an amazing dad someday—wait, what? Where did that thought come from? You shake it off quickly, heat rising to your cheeks. You haven’t even sorted out your feelings, let alone—

“Come on, let’s move!” Steve says, cutting into your spiral.

The kids glance back at you, silently asking for reassurance. You chuckle and wave them forward. “What are you waiting for? A formal invitation? A little hustle, huh? I’ll be right behind you.”

As you move cautiously through the twisting tunnels, the air feels heavier with each step. Pods of various sizes cling to the walls and ceiling, pulsing faintly as if they’re alive. The eerie glow from within them illuminates the otherwise pitch-black space, casting strange shadows.

You notice Dustin stop to inspect one of the pods, his curiosity getting the better of him. A pang of concern hits you, so you linger behind, keeping an eye on him to ensure he doesn’t fall too far back from the group.

“Dustin, don’t—”

Before you can finish, the pod above him bursts, releasing a spray of viscous fluid. Dustin collapses to the ground, screaming in terror.

“Dustin!” you shout, rushing to his side as panic sets in. He’s coughing and gasping, clutching at his face.

The others quickly double back, finding you crouched beside a flailing Dustin. “It’s in my mouth! It’s in my mouth!” he chokes out, his voice frantic.

You grab his shoulders firmly and try to make him focus. “Hey! Dustin, look at me. You’re fine! It’s okay!” His mask is soaked, so you pull it down and shake him lightly to break through his panic. “Breathe, okay? Just breathe!”

Finally, his gasps slow, and his breathing steadies as he leans into you for comfort. “I thought I was gonna die,” he mutters dramatically, clutching your arm like a lifeline.

From behind, Steve’s flashlight beam lands on you both, his expression a mix of exasperation and mild jealousy.

“Alright, Romeo,” Steve cuts in, stepping closer with a mock-stern glare. “Hands off.” He uses his flashlight to nudge Dustin away from you, shaking his head as the boy reluctantly lets go.

Dustin groans, “Come on, man. I almost died!”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re fine. Let’s move.”

Finally, you venture into the hub that Mike was speaking of.

“Let’s drench it,” you say, your voice steady and determined.

Steve nods in agreement, hefting a can of fuel. “You heard her. Let’s get to work.”

The kids scatter, pouring the fuel across the floor and onto the vines, their expressions grim as they focus on the task. You work alongside Steve, each of you silently mirroring the other’s urgency.

“Careful not to miss a spot,” Steve says, glancing your way.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” you reply, pouring fuel over a particularly thick vine.

Nearby, Dustin struggles with his fuel can, muttering under his breath. “Why are these things always heavier than they look?”

Steve smirks and steps over to help, taking the can from him with ease. “Here, let me. And don’t spill it on yourself, genius, unless you’re volunteering to go up in flames.”

Dustin scowls but doesn’t argue. “I wasn’t gonna spill it. I’m not a total moron.”

“Debatable,” Steve teases, ruffling Dustin’s hair before handing the can back.

You glance at the kids, ensuring they’re staying safe and focused. “Alright, guys, keep spreading it evenly. We’re almost done.”

Lucas passes you, carefully pouring his fuel along the edge of the tunnel. “What if this doesn’t work?” he asks, his voice wavering slightly.

You crouch beside him, squeezing his shoulder gently. “It’ll work. We’ve got this.”

Once the fuel is spread, everyone regroups in the center of the hub. The tension in the air is almost suffocating as you all take a moment to catch your breath. You pull the lighter from your pocket, flicking it open and closed as you exchange a glance with Steve.

“Ready to light these bastards up?” you ask, your voice laced with defiance.

Steve adjusts the bat slung over his shoulder and gives you a small nod. “Ready when you are.”

The kids tighten their makeshift masks, and you do one last check of the group. Dustin looks pale but determined, Mike is fidgeting nervously, and Max’s expression is set with fierce resolve.

“Alright,” Steve says, his voice steady as he looks at the kids. “Masks on, stay close, and whatever you do, don’t breathe this crap in. Let’s finish this.”

You flick the lighter, the small flame dancing in the dim, oppressive air. For a second, the world stills. Everyone holds their breath, watching as you crouch and lower the flame to the fuel-soaked ground.

The fire catches immediately, roaring to life and snaking outward like a living thing. It licks up the walls and races down the tendrils of vine, consuming everything in its path. The flames glow an angry orange-red, casting the tunnels in an eerie, hellish light.

A deafening screech echoes through the chamber as the vines react violently to the fire. The tendrils convulse, writhing and snapping like cornered animals. They whip against the walls and ceiling, sending dust and debris raining down around you.

“Move! Move back!” Steve shouts, grabbing your arm and pulling you a safe distance from the inferno.

The kids scramble, their faces a mix of awe and terror as they watch the fire spread rapidly, overtaking the entire hub.

“What the hell!” Dustin yells, ducking as a tendril slams into the wall near him.

“It’s working!” Mike exclaims, his voice tinged with equal parts fear and exhilaration.

The vines’ convulsions grow more frantic, their shrill screeches reverberating in your ears. They thrash wildly, almost as if they’re alive—and dying. One massive tentacle swings dangerously close, slamming into a cluster of pods and sending a burst of fluid and ash into the air.

“We need to get out of here!” Max shouts, tugging at Lucas, who is staring in horrified fascination at the destruction.

Steve steps in, gripping Lucas by the collar and pulling him back. “Yeah, no sightseeing! Let’s go!”

You cast one last look at the flames, the fire consuming the heart of the Upside Down’s hold on Hawkins. The once-terrifying tendrils are now nothing more than flailing, dying beasts. For a moment, there’s a flicker of hope.

But the ground shakes violently beneath your feet, and you realize this isn’t over.

“Run!” you shout, ushering the kids toward the exit.

Steve keeps pace beside you, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure everyone is moving. “You heard her! Don’t stop for anything!”

The flames roar louder, the tunnel filling with chaos as the Upside Down fights back. The group is moving quickly through the winding tunnels, the glow of the burning hub fading behind you.

“Keep up, guys!” You call out, your flashlight bouncing off the walls as you attempt to find the exit.

Suddenly, Mike stumbles over a root jutting from the ground and crashes to the floor. Before you can help him up, a slimy tendril shoots out from the wall, wrapping around his ankle and yanking him backward.

“Mike!” you shout, sprinting toward him.

The tendril tightens, dragging him closer to the pulsing wall. Mike’s panicked cries echo through the tunnel as he claws at the ground.

“Help me!”

You dive for his arms, your hands gripping him tightly. “I’ve got you!”

Steve spins around at the commotion, his eyes widening. “Stay on him!” he yells, rushing forward with his bat.

The kids surround Mike, grabbing onto his arms and torso as the tendril pulls with unnerving strength.

“Hold him!” Steve growls, swinging his bat at the vine. His first hit barely leaves a mark. The tendril writhes, nearly yanking Mike out of your grasp.

“Steve, hurry!” you shout, your muscles burning as you fight to keep your grip.

Mike’s voice is strained with panic. “It’s pulling me in!”

Steve delivers another blow, this time severing the tendril with a sickening snap. The vine recoils, flailing wildly before retreating back into the wall. Mike collapses into your arms, trembling and gasping for breath. “You okay?” you ask, brushing the dust off his face and pulling him into a quick hug. “I think so,” he croaks, his wide eyes darting to the now lifeless tendril. Steve leans down, resting a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?”

Mike nods weakly.

“Good,” Steve says, his voice softer now, though he glances at you briefly, the tension in his face still evident. “Let’s move before that thing decides to grow back.”

You stand, helping Mike to his feet. As the group regroups, you catch Steve’s gaze. “You did good,” you murmur. “Yeah, well, keeping you guys alive isn’t easy,” he replies, smirking faintly before turning to lead the way again.

Then, a deep, guttural growl stops you in your tracks. Dustin freezes, wide-eyed. “That’s… not good.”

From the darkness ahead, a massive shape emerges, slinking into view with an unnerving fluidity. It’s Dart. The Demodog’s slick, reptilian skin gleams faintly in the dim light, and its jaws part to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth. It lets out a shrill roar, the sound ricocheting off the walls.

“Of course it’s Dart!” Steve groans, shoving the kids behind him. “Why wouldn’t it be Dart?”

Dustin steps forward, desperation on his face. “Wait, wait! Maybe he remembers me! I can calm him down.”

Steve grabs his arm, pulling him back. “Yeah, no offense, but your little monster is definitely not in the mood for a reunion!”

Dart crouches low, muscles tensing, ready to pounce.

Uh, guys,” you say, your voice trembling as you slowly pull out the bat Steve handed you earlier. “We’re cornered.”

Dart takes a cautious step forward, sniffing the air. His dark, soulless eyes lock onto you, then shift to Steve, who raises his bat defensively.

“Stay behind me,” Steve orders, his voice low but firm.

“I’m not hiding while you get mauled!” you snap, gripping your weapon tighter.

“Guys!” Mike yells. “We don’t have time for this!”

Dustin tries again, his voice trembling. “Dart, buddy, it’s me! Remember the nougat?” He pulls a crumpled candy bar from his pocket and holds it out, his hand shaking.

For a moment, Dart pauses, sniffing the air again. He tilts his head, the faintest hint of recognition crossing his monstrous features.

“It’s working,” Dustin whispers, inching forward.

“Now, go!” Dustin orders. Steve grabs your arm and pulls you forward, motioning for the others to follow.

The group moves in a sprint, darting toward the exit, not daring to look back. Behind you, Dart is still distracted, munching on the nougat.

You push yourself harder, the adrenaline of escape keeping you going. “Almost there!” you call out, knowing Dart won’t stay distracted for long.

Finally, the light from the exit hits your eyes. As you and the group prepare to exit the tunnels, the ground begins to shake. The walls tremble, and the air vibrates with a low, ominous rumble. Dust falls from above, and a low, guttural growl echoes through the tunnel. The unmistakable sound of hundreds of Demodogs heading your way.

“They’re coming,” you whisper urgently, your heart racing. You turn to Steve, your mind spinning with the mounting pressure. “We need to get out of here, now.”

He’s already helping the kids climb up to the hole in the ceiling, pushing them toward safety as fast as possible. But when it’s your turn, the panic sets in.

“Your turn,” Steve urges, pointing at the hole, trying to push you towards it.

You shake your head, your expression firm but laced with concern. “No. You go first.”

“Y/N, we don’t have time for this!” He insists, the sound of the Demodogs’ claws scraping against the floor growing louder.

“Then I’m staying with you,” you say, your voice unwavering.

Your pulse quickens as you feel the ground shake harder, the sound of the Demodogs’ approach growing closer with every passing second. “Y/N, please—just go! It’s not safe.”

“I’m not leaving you,” you say, your voice full of determination. “Not now. Not ever.”

You meet his gaze, your breath catching in your throat. The panic is consuming you both, but his steady presence is like a tether, anchoring you in the chaos. You can feel the weight of his promise, the silent pledge to protect you no matter the cost. You hesitate for a moment, but then something clicks inside you. You’ve been through too much together, and you’re not about to let fear make the decision for you. Steve looks at you, his expression softening, though the worry still lingers in his eyes. He nods, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer.

Suddenly, the ground shakes again, and you hear the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against the tunnel floor. The Demodogs are close—too close. But then, as if by some strange twist of fate, the creatures don’t come for you. Instead, they race past you, heading in the opposite direction, their growls growing fainter as they disappear down the tunnel. You freeze, your mind struggling to make sense of it. Why aren’t they attacking? Steve tightens his hold on you, his breath shaky as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” His voice is a whisper, full of relief but still tinged with concern.

You nod, still trying to process what just happened. “Yeah.” He pulls back just enough to look at you, his face full of worry and something else—a deep, unspoken relief. He brushes a strand of hair from your face.

“Let’s get out of here,” he says softly, his voice low and steady, his hand still firmly holding yours.

You and the kids stumble out of the tunnels, breathless and bruised. The night sky feels cool against your skin, a sharp contrast to the heat and chaos of the tunnels. But there’s no time to rest—you’re all still on edge, still feeling the tremors of what you narrowly escaped.

The first thing you notice is the light. A blinding, intense beam from the car ahead, cutting through the night and casting everything in stark relief. It’s almost overwhelming, too bright to look at directly, but as you squint into the darkness, you realize it’s the lights from the car, but something else is happening.

The car’s headlights seem to grow brighter with every passing second, as though mirroring the strength of Eleven’s power, forcing the rift to shrink back into itself. The ground trembles beneath your feet once again, but this time, it feels like something is being retracted, something is ending.

“Is it… over?” Max breathes, almost in disbelief, her voice raw from the tension.

Finally, just as the light from the car reaches its peak, it suddenly begins to fade. The ground stills beneath your feet, the air grows quieter, and the frantic pulse of energy that had been surging through the night starts to die down.

“It’s done,” Dustin says softly, a mix of wonder and disbelief in his voice.

Mike nods slowly, “She really did it.”

You turn to Steve. His eyes meet yours, and you can see it in the way he looks at you—relief, exhaustion, and something else. The world is slowly righting itself, and for the first time, you feel the quiet after the storm settle in your bones.

“It’s over,” you whisper to him.

A soft smile tugs at his lips. “Yeah… it really is.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The next day, the sterile white walls of Hawkins National Lab feel like a cold reminder of everything that happened. Doctor Owens moves through the room with practiced ease, checking your vitals with a detached professionalism, while he hands you a stack of non-disclosure agreements to sign. You nod, eyes unfocused, your mind drifting in and out of the haze of the previous night.

As you sign the papers, you catch a glimpse of Steve across the hall, another doctor checking on him. Your eyes meet for the briefest of moments, an unspoken connection hanging in the air before you quickly look away, your heart sinking with the weight of unasked questions. Did he mean it? Was it the chaos of the night, the adrenaline of survival, that made him say what he did? Or was there more to it?

After the checkups, you find yourself outside the lab, the fresh air offering little relief from the turmoil inside your head. Steve’s there, waiting for you, his expression uncertain but soft. “Hey,” he says, his voice low. “You okay?”

For a split second, you want to reach out, to let him comfort you, to talk about everything that’s been weighing on you. But the doubts won’t let you. Not yet. You force a tight smile, shaking your head. “I’m fine. Can you just give me a ride home?”

Steve nods, but his face falls, disappointment flickering in his eyes. You can see it—the same uncertainty that’s been eating at you, mirrored in him. He doesn’t push, doesn’t try to make it better. You get into his car in silence, the tension between you palpable. The ride home feels endless, the space between you growing with each passing mile.

Steve’s thoughts swirl as he drives. He can’t help but wonder if it’s the fear of last night still lingering, or if something deeper is at play. Maybe you don’t believe him, or maybe you’re just scared to believe it’s real. Either way, the distance between you both hurts in a way he didn’t expect. He thought that after everything, after all the danger, you two would finally have a chance to be honest with each other. But now, all he can do is drive, silently aching for a chance to bridge the gap—if you’d only let him.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #open arms au

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writingwhilecaffeinated · 1 month ago

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Hi readers of Unspooled Thread! Not sure how many of you this will reach but here's an update!

@velvetcovered-brick had been amazing basically as our PR person, answering comments, making posts, etc. Cause literally they're a saint.

But I wanted to also give an update on writing the latest chapter.

First, I am SO SORRY it's late. You know how a story won't update for a hot sec and then the author posts and is like "I'm so sorry, my cat died, a zombie apocalypse took place, and also I suffered a bout of malaria?"

Yeah, that's basically what happened. Quite literally, first, there were so family problems that happened, as soon as those cleared up my spouse and I left on a family trip for his nonno's 90th birthday. We were traveling too much so I didn't bring my laptop and I'm not as good as typing on my phone as I used to be. THEN I literally got sick the day we travelled back and have been recovering. I still can't fully hear out of my right ear. Woot.

There were various other things, but those are the main points. Meaning writing this chapter took WAY longer than usual.

However, I HAVE GOOD NEWS. I'm at the end of the chapter, writing the very famous Featherington Ball at the end of s2 and all that transpires. Some events shall change slightly, some dramatically, and some... well, you'll have to read to find out. ;)

I should be done today or tomorrow, but then we have to do edits. But I promise this means it's coming soon.

Now, I feel like there will be some questions when this chapter comes out, specifically with our beautiful Penedict and the progress of their relationship. Since it's a canon rewrite, @velvetcovered-brick and I very seriously look at each season and where characters are, and how they change and develop differently based on the new situations we have put them in.

You'll notice Benedict matured faster than in the show timeline. What I mean by "mature" is that he became ready for love much more quickly than in the show. In s1-3, Benedict is not ready to settle down. We believe he cares deeply about his sexual partners but that is not the same as enduring love. To fast-track him to that point but in a believable manner, we hypothesized that making him take on the responsibility of caring for another person, another woman, besides his sisters closely and deeply would help with this.

For Penelope, being so much younger, this was different. Even if she fell in love with Benedict earlier, we did not believe she would or should act any earlier than s3. We based this heavily on Nicola's observation that in s1, Penelope is a girl. In s2, to quote the great Britney Spears, she's "not a girl, not yet a woman."

But s3, Penelope? She's a woman and ready to own it.

Sooooo, yeah. There's my ramble. As a treat, here's an unexplained, excerpt of dialogue from the latest chapter we are finishing up:

“Is there something even more binding than a swear, Ben?” “A blood oath, perhaps? A tithing?” “Very well, then. As your new patron saint–” “Hold on! Are you not getting a fullhead, Lady Whistledown?”

#bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benelope #benedict bridgerton #unspooled thread #penedict #penelope featherington

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imeanitplsmorenamifics · 8 months ago

Note

OMG BLESS YOU FOR YOUR WORK HERE 😭💘💘 I'm starving for more Nami fics as well and I'm so glad I found you. Plus your writing is delightful omg. <3

I just have to drop by and make a request of my own now 🥺 could I please please have some Nami hurt/comfort? I feel like she needs it so much. I was thinking of something along the lines of right after the ending of season 1, Nami has had feelings for the reader for quite some time now but was too scared to act on it, especially because she was afraid of what Arlong might do if he found out she cares about someone. And now that she's finally free of Arlong, Nami realizes that she doesn't know what to do, because she never had something real like that, someone she cares about and actually wants to do things right with. Nami thinks the reader wouldn't reciprocate her feelings, so she's basically in this state of admiring and longing from a distance, until maybe something happens and they are alone together, and the reader is being all soft and gentle with Nami (insert Nami being touch starved here because I jus know she is), and Nami gets like, all emotional 🥺 and the reader is worried and asks what's wrong, if she did something wrong; and Nami finally admits that "I'm sorry I don't know how to do this, but I like you so much"; and then just Nami getting all the hugs, kisses, love, and reassurance that she so deserves. ❤️

I'm sorry that was a little big 😭 you can change anything you want, I'd just love some angst/hurt/comfort with her. Thank you so much already. <3

Hi! And thank you so much! I was tired of the lack of Nami fics and couldn't stand it anymore. I needed content and I was going to make it myself if I had to 😭. Don't worry about it being long, it actually gives me a lot more to go on when writing so I don't mind it! I would be more than happy to write this for you so I hope you like it! This felt like more of a headcanon request to me so I wrote this has a headcanon post. If you want an imagine/oneshot instead, message me and I'll rewrite it! Also, this has some minor spoilers for the Alabasta arc so if you don't want to be spoiled for it if you're not far then I would advise that you don't read this. Flower Asks Hozier Asks Taylor Swift Asks Masterlist Rules Taglist Request Characters: Nami, Fem!Reader, Arlong (mentioned), Strawhats (mentioned), Vivi (mentioned), Dr. Kureha (mentioned), Chopper (mentioned) Pairing: Nami x Fem!Reader TW: Trauma, fears of one-sided feelings, angst. That's all I can think of but tell me if there's more!

The Art of Pining

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

The last thing Nami needed was to fall in love. Her life was too stressful and too dangerous to have any kind of relationship. Being forced to work with Arlong to buy back her village would do that to a person. But, somehow, some way, she ended up falling in love with you.

She tried to deny it. She really did. But it was impossible for her to deny being in love with someone as amazing and beautiful as you. You had somehow captured her heart in a way no one ever had, despite not even knowing each other for that long.

Guilt was mostly what she felt when she realized there was no pushing those feelings down. She felt guilty for unintentionally putting you in a risky situation. She felt guilty for not being able to deny herself of something she really wanted to keep you safe. Still, either way, there was no way she could be with you. Not with Arlong still around. Especially not while she was working with him.

There was a part of her that was worried about what you would think when you found out she was only going to betray you and the others when the time came. She only joined up with the crew to have her hands on the map of the Grand Line. If she got some money and jewels along the way, it was a bonus. There was still a tremendous amount of remorse she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt you. But that was what was needed to keep you safe.

So, she revealed herself to be working with Arlong during Luffy’s fight with him at the Baratie. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you. She could already feel the look of betrayal and hurt on your face without even facing you. A pang was sent through her heart at just the thought of seeing that expression so she avoided looking at it altogether. Still, as she was walking back to Arlong’s ship, she managed to catch the smallest glimpse of you. The look you were giving her was one that would be seared into her mind for as long as she lived.

Quickly, she covered up the feelings she had let slip through onto her face. She didn’t need Arlong to be suspicious of her. That would only put you in danger if he found out about her feelings toward you.

She honestly didn’t expect to see you again after that. She thought that you and the others would walk the other way, licking their wounds, hating her for doing what she did to them. She was more than shocked when she showed up at Coco Village just to see you and the others there. Nothing could stop the panic that she felt upon seeing you there. This was too close to Arlong. You were too close to him. This would get you hurt.

So she did what she had to do. She said whatever she could to make you guys angry or sad enough to leave her alone. She put as much false hatred into her words as she could to get the point across… But you all just wouldn’t leave.

After Arlong worked with the Marines to take the gold she had been stashing, she thought that was the end. But as she lay broken on the ground, knife in her hand, wound on her shoulder where Arlong’s symbol was etched, she was met with you and Luffy. Both of you staring at her with no judgment, understanding was in your eyes. While Luffy was the first to take off to fight Arlong, you stayed behind to tend to her. You treated her wound as gently as you could and gave her all the care that she had been lacking. What a horrible time to feel as she did toward you.

To her shock, Arlong managed to be defeated by Luffy. For the first time in a long time, Nami was free from him. She could do whatever she wanted, go wherever she wanted, and speak with whoever she wanted without fear of having to leave them behind.

You’d think that with this opportunity, she would go for it with you. She would try to see where things landed and tell you how she felt. None of the sort happened. Something inside her still stopped her. The threat was no longer there so why did she hesitate?

It was fear. She was scared that you resented her for betraying the crew like she did. She was afraid that if she told you how she felt, you would laugh in her face and reject her. Nami had never felt love and care since Bellemere died. All she had been met with was manipulation and abuse. What if she put herself out there only to get hurt in the end?

Time passed and she still couldn’t bring herself to tell you how she felt. Eventually, the crew met a princess named Vivi whose country was falling apart. The crew agreed to help her. Everything started out rocky but seemed to get even worse when Nami got sick. Everyone was worried for her, but you seemed especially worried.

Nami was in and out of consciousness the whole time. But every time she would regain consciousness, you would be there, taking care of her. It was almost like she never left her side. Then, when she woke up in Dr. Kureha’s castle, she found you asleep at her bedside. That’s when she found out that you had, in fact, never left her side.

You took care of her while she was unconscious. The others had to beg you to get something to eat, to shower, or to at least sleep in your own bed. When they had to take Nami up the mountains of the Drum Island, you were one of the first ones to volunteer to come along. When they said you couldn’t come, you snuck your way with them, joining them and not listening to them when they said to go back. They got too tired of fighting with you and it was already too late at that point so they relented.

It warmed her heart to hear everything that you did for her. It made her wonder if you did actually feel something toward her. She could’ve been connecting dots that weren’t actually there, but a small part of her hoped that it was true.

So when you woke up, she took the chance. Dr. Kureha could sense that it was an intimate moment so she left you alone and had Chopper tend to the other two so you could be alone. You were thrilled to see her awake and fine, you practically tackled her in the biggest hug.

When Nami finally managed to get a word in (you fretted over her for the first few minutes, it was hard to get a word in), she spilled her feelings. She told you she didn’t know how to say it but she loved you and she has been in love with you for as long as she’s known you. No matter how much she tried to tell herself she didn’t, she couldn’t deny it.

It was silent once she was finished. She was worried that she did make up everything. That was until you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you locked eyes with her and said one thing, “I was waiting for the day you would say that.”

.·:·.✧ ✦✧.·:·.

Taglist: @3v37773, @marvellousdaisy

#one piece #opla x reader #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece x reader #opla #opla nami x reader #one piece headcanons #nami x reader #opla nami #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #x reader #one piece oneshots

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elderwisp · 28 days ago

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hi! Im so sorry if this is the wrong place to ask, I've looked for answers for this before so I'm just not sure,,

i absolutely adore your sims and your story! Its completely inspired me to create a story w/ my sims as well! the only thing is I'm quite overwhelmed with it all and I don't know where to start :(

do you have any tips? Whats your process? there's so many things to use and I'm just curious what you use! Thanks in advance and no pressure to answer if this is the wrong place :))<33

HAI :D OMG EXCITING <3 no worries! my inbox is always open for assistance and i'd love to help! here's a bunch of tips ranging from writing to technical to artsy stuff:

the start:

⟡ i should preface this story did not begin as one typically would which is say following the example of how to write a novel in a year. my writing style for this project started out with my interest in the characters created. my desire to wanting to know why certain oc's acted the way they did and that's where it all began. what started out as short stories of certain individuals reworked into something much more authentic. this was the hook for me so you gotta find that one sliver of interest and run with it. you can most certainly utilize tools like character sheets, pinboards, storyboards to assist you but i find that if i'm not connected to the story, it's difficult to use them

⟡ with that being said LOL invest the time in fleshing out your character because when you understand how they work, when you believe in them, the easier it'll be in creating scenes and writing dialogue. for me, it's almost intuitive writing for characters to the point where i will easily check myself and rewrite a scene because it didn't align with a certain character

⟡ while the influence of your own ideals/experiences eventually bleed into an oc, it's important to identify that, otherwise a cast of diverse characters eventually feel the same. this was something i struggled with for years which is why i could never really begin until now!

⟡ it's good to ask yourself what sort of story do you want to create. the best question is is it plot driven or character driven? what sort of tone do you want to set? do you want to blend them? i think there's a huge stress on just doing things for fun and not taking things seriously but i do want to challenge others to consider what that might look like for others. sometimes people like to create grand posts or fun slice of life posts and neither is more valid than the other. it's truly up to the author

technical stuff:

⟡ i'm gonna be honest with you, i'm not as organized as i once was in how i go about plotting things however! in the beginning, i would utilize sticky notes with ideas written on them and then shuffle around how i wanted things to play out. now i use a dingy little notebook LMAO but i've heard good things about milanote! as for dialogue, i do use google docs but i do think they're under fire for using your things for ai training or somethin O_O

⟡ i do use photoshop to edit my photos and that usually looks like cropping, color/contrast enhancing and sharpening. i do add dialogue last because when i sharpen it all together, the font looks cwispy! there's this mini tut by @/stinkrascal on how to format the text so it's all even if that's the style you're going for! anyways it changed my LIFE lmao! right here are some free alternatives. also this is an older post in which i shared my process and it includes some tips and tricks with photoshop (you can also see how i used to format text lmaooo)

⟡ knowledge is power. if i find myself really struggling with certain aspects, like maybe the logistics of a character, i'll set aside some time to learn from certain authors, commentators or directors. even if it's a short clip of seeing how they approach something as simple as their thought process behind how a scene supported a character to something as small as the significance of Isha's hat from Arcane

misc writing tips:

⟡ ooh! because tessellate is such a large group of characters, it can be challenging to structuring a plot. so i started off by slowly introducing characters rather than all at once. i also break up character plots into arcs but with that comes filler episodes to help space out big moments. i like to utilize filler episodes as bite sized pieces that introduces the readers to newer characters while also allowing there to be breaks in between. those filler posts highlight certain events, ways of living, etc that might influence how things play out in the future. a good example is kai, we're nearing the end of his arc but all of those little moments in between really helped shaped how things played out!

⟡ when i think of conflict, i think of it a lot like a boiling pot. it starts out at a neutral temperature (your foundation), before bubbles begin to form (minor annoyances between characters), steam hissing (the lead up) to an eventual lid popping off (the conflict). the build up is the most important part to the pay off!

⟡ my best piece of advice for darker themes is really understand the topic and stray away from stereotypes as it diminishes a lot of depth in certain subjects as well as does more harm than good. recognize that at the end of the day a weakness does not define a person as they are a person through and through. approach it with compassion rather than judgement.

⟡ i know i know everyone says to read your dialogue out loud and that is incredibly important however while doing that, think about the flow too. as a writer, because we are goal oriented, sometimes dialogue can be turned into what will progress the plot which makes things feel a bit unnatural and sometimes lacking the proper flow. remember to consider the personality of a character. how is a line delivered through a character who is brash versus one who is a bit more reclusive? also! here's a great video about the stiff dialogue in veilguard that shows what unnatural dialogue can sound like.

⟡ remember, comparison is the thief of joy. it's easy to get caught up in recognition and likes. there was a time where i consistently got 3-5 readers and that was it. there are moments now where certain posts are incredibly inconsistent in engagement and sure, it can be disheartening but then i think about the handful of individuals that consistently comment, the specific asks about how a certain post made them feel seen and interact and i remember why it's i chose to write. it isn't the recognition i seek, it's the connection. it's important to have that one thing that gives you the strength to continue because truthfully, things can be inconsistent and that's okay.

the artsy stuff:

⟡ i am a huge fan of cinema, animation and photography. i think consuming a lot of media and art has helped train my eye especially if i feel as if my screenshots are becoming repetitive. it's good to see how different directors go about framing dialogue. comic panels are amazing as well since artists find new unique ways of captivating an audience through levels like coloring, framing, posing and such! it's honestly why i introduced some vertical shots to black out bars in story posts because of that unique angle! remember, media is meant to inspire you! after watching the latest season of Arcane (haven't finished it yet tho) it genuinely relit a fire under my ass LMAO

⟡ different angles, lighting and positioning can help elevate a story. the aesthetics of a story can really add another layer of depth however it's important to remember that it is a supporting role, not the entire role

⟡ i do use my own reshade and i've formatted it to have similarities of a film camera as well as my preference of color correcting. i lean heavier towards contrast, colors and shadows however i always encourage for people to look into what supports their vision the best! the lightroom shader by quint and pd80's contrast/brightness/saturation shader help with color grading in game as they do have sliders that tweak certain colors. the sepia shader is great for adding a cinematic tint but it can conflict with relight and the way the lights are presented. relight of course can add those shadows in lighting. i'll sometimes have two presets, one for up close shots to further shots because sometimes zooming out can create inconsistencies in your preset as things might look to muggy or like a disco ball LOL (ps what helps with that is adjusting bloom if used and messing around with shadows/midtones/highlights/saturation with that lightroom shader)

last but not least, a story is a labor of love, it's a tool in which authors can utilize the pen to their own manner whether it's to communicate ideas or to simply tell a tale. don't be afraid to dive deep into the layers of your story and remember each piece can be important factor but it's entirely up to you as to where you want that focus to be. it does take a lot of courage to start but i truly believe if it's something you cherish, it'll always be worth it!

i do wish you the best of luck! thank you for trusting me enough to give you some tips and tricks! i tried to lean more into the more finite details as i felt like this is what truly helped me throughout the years! <3 also here is a complimentary meme i made:

#btw i created a milinote after this LMAOO #creative process #asks

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chipperchemical · 2 months ago

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24 zombiewood?

I love the drunken confession acting on things the heart wants trope and think it really fits them :3

Cleo/Martyn - a drunk kiss

word count: 408

A/N: i completely forgot to write down the confession part in my list of requests, i'm very sorry :( if you'd like me to rewrite with a confession then do tell me!! otherwise, hope you enjoy :)

prompt list is here!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

"Heyyyyy Cleooooo..." Martyn drawled out, leaning against the doorway with the elegance of a hippopotamus, "What're you up toooo?"

Cleo rolled her eyes even though Martyn couldn't see it. She sat at her desk hunched over some papers, trying and failing to focus on the task at hand -- not helped by Martyn's random intrusion from behind her. Just her luck.

"You sound drunk." Cleo declared at the wall, hearing Martyn's dopey laugh from behind them and sighing at the confirmation, "I'm busy, Martyn."

"Take a break, then..." Martyn slurred, the noise of his drunken steps across the floor loud and apparent right up until he collapsed against Cleo's back and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, hands resting in the centre of their chest, "Let's hang out!"

"What part of "busy" don't you get?" Cleo scolded, though she couldn't keep the fondness from bleeding into her voice, much to her dismay. She unattached Martyn from her body so she could spin around in the chair and face him properly. It was all but confirmed that he was slammed, but this was the final nail in the coffin: Cleo had some choice words to describe how Martyn looked right now. His only saving grace was how rosy his cheeks got when he was off his nut, which was excusably cute.

Now making eye contact, Martyn smirked and leant forward again to fall on top of Cleo, this time putting a clumsy hand on her collarbone and the other on her shoulder to stabilise himself. Once sufficiently secure and ignoring the exclamation of an angry Cleo, he pushed forwards in order to kiss the zombie.

Martyn's kiss felt, to put it nicely, sloppy. Cleo mentally tutted: it felt more like being slobbered on by a dog than actually kissed. Despite everything, Cleo pushed into it fondly, holding Martyn's cheek to try and direct him to the correct place. His lips were very warm against theirs (species difference, of course) which made the knot of disgruntled love tighten in Cleo's heart. Maybe it would be more pleasurable if he didn't taste of booze and impulsiveness but they weren't in a place to be complaining.

Martyn pulled away and immediately fell straight on top of Cleo, making the chair creak beneath them.

"Martyn!" She shouted, "I literally hate you."

"D'awwww, you love me!" Martyn retorted, and Cleo hated that he was right.

#zombiewood #martyn inthelittlewood #zombiecleo #trafficshipblr #trafficshipping #fanfiction #traffic series #chipper og posts #mwarch

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okkos-ferrum · 2 months ago

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Chat .. I'm thinking abt gray Carmen Sandiego again and I want to die like how gray died in the finale episode lol

ANYWAY HERES THREE WAYS ON HOW I WOULD REWRITE GRAY'S WRITING IN THE STORY

Okay so if you don't know I'm a bit critical on the handling of gray cuz there is sm potential and some decent execution in the series, as with Carmen sandiego's writing in general which fumbled hard in the end

Anyway I decided to think of three rewrites that would do better with writing gray's arc, starting from a total refresh from the start of the series to whatever was left in the final season

Season 1: why write character when u can slap on amensia instead

So if I were in charge of writing gray with what was set up in pilot and where his arc would go ... I might ditch the amnesia all together. Amnesia is already quite the narrative and character weight, and to give it to such a conflicted character like gray only adds to how much of a mess he is (love him tho). Gray starts in the first episode complex enough, even more so than the other characters I'd argue:

He's a character working for vile and clearly disregards any sort of moral compass, making him so clearly opposed to Carmen. But due to their past bond, he simply can't pursue his own self interest like he normally would, hesitating and stalling his decision by allowing Carmen to speak her side. It's quickly shown and immediately makes him compelling.

But then a cartoon anvil drops on his head and just gives him amnesia, rendering his screen time for the next three seasons basically replaced with a different character

u can read more here if u want:

So solution? Ditch the amnesia plot and just pursue what makes him interesting. Keep him conflicted by acting as a sorta regular vile operative like tigress, but have him gradually throughout his appearances having a change of heart

... No not in morals lol, but in his final conviction in hurting carmen. which was his "redeeming moment" in season 4, where he prioritized Carmen over himself and refused to hurt her himself and then later, not stand by to see her get hurt.

They can be more lighthearted capers like in early seasons where team red and gray have to personally work together, both very reluctant. In this time, Carmen can feel some melancholy and nostalgia for their previous, uncomplicated relationship while gray may start to have doubts in his loyalty.

That way u don't rob gray of his agency throughout while still hitting the main emotional beats. He will only be betraying vile likely on the end for his selfish reason to help Carmen over his allkes, solidifying his gray morality

Season 3: Why is there a season long Halloween special in my Carmen Sandiego show?

This is going to painfully unlikely, but it is a quick fix all things considered.

Season 3 to me is the biggest detriment to the show overall, wasting time as well as introducing unnecessary plot lines (Julia and chase breaking up for a bit, it was maybe needed but not at all well executed), all the while forgetting other plot threads (Carmen's search for her mom and her betrayal of acme, vile supposedly getting even more against Carmen)

But it seems it was meant to be some harmless Halloween special to entertain fans ... All the while putting some plot details that can't be skipped over ... (ie Julia and chase split)

Anyway let's say we're approaching season 3, and it's meant to be all spooky and stuff. We've already written two seasons of graham stuff so now what? Well just make the side plot of s3 abt gray recovering his memories, essentially moving his plot in the first half of s4 back to s3

There is some horror in gray's situation at the start of s4, so maybe it can run parallel to the general Halloween vibes of the arc, but where carmen's arc is more light hearted spookiness, gray's can work as a serious plot beat in between (also gives vile more to than just sitting around in costumes)

Change the s3 finale to be more like the Himalayan episode, where somehow Carmen is confronting gray, however brief, and gray reaffirms his alliegence back to vile. That way s4 has gray concretely back at vile, reducing how back-to-back his switch ups are in s4

Not elegant but can keep interest in s3 afloat (at least for me)

Season 4: welp we're out of time ...

Okay now we're in too deep. We've written it where gray has to both regain his memories (can't have him be an amnesiac forever lol) and then return to vile to affirm his moral "grayness" but ALSO ALSO redeem himself by snitching vile to acme ... All in a shortened season

Oops ...

Truthfully it's such little screentime left idk what they really had left if they wanna maintain gray's allegiance to both vile and carmen

So ditch it! Instead of having it during the Himalaya confrontation end with gray choosing vile, have him choose team red

Have it where during the reunion between the two and their ensuing conversation, gray expresses way more reluctance in his choice (and def not piss Carmen off by unintentionally undermining her lol) so Carmen won't immediately choose to blow up the building. Have her instead acknowledge gray's choice to remain in vile but offer him a card or something with contact info, something like that. Gray takes it and without it being said, it's clear he is taking her side

the two taking cover as Carmen explodes the building. But before Maelstrom can appear, Carmen takes her leave, leaving gray behind to seem like he chose vile.

Gray will hide the note and play along, essentially being the mole in vile for team red. This way, when Carmen gets kidnapped, gray can immediately give team red the intel, making sure team red doesn't get reduced to this like confused wreck that they are in the actual show.

It also avoids gray getting involved with acme again, and since I think Carmen took acme's files or something at the end of s2, they can have ivy, as the tech girl, make the memory device herself. It helps give way more agency to Zach, ivy, player, and shadowsan since now they know in advance what happened to Carmen, making them way more proactive.

Change the finale from there but I think it better balances out gray as well as the other characters

concluding time

Okay so it's easy for me to say all this now in retrospect (and maybe I'm misremembering details...) but yeah I just felt like there were many ways this show, with it's limited time, could've been more sensible in its choices rather than wasting them. If the writing for even one character was tighter, I feel like a lot of other plot beats would've fit in better too

Or I'm just overly fixated on gray who knows lol also im too lazy to revise sorry if this is just garble

#carmen sandeigo 2019 #carmen sandiego #graham calloway #carmen sandiego netflix #gray calloway #rewrite #critique

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infoglitch · 4 months ago

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I uh.. I wrote a really shitty Ruby rose song for my Rwby rewrite... Your all going to read the lyrics because I suck at music. And am too much of a fucking pussy to even try singing it.

Ruby Rose: thorns (act 1)

(Verse 1)

(In a whispered voice) red like roses fill my dreams.

My dreams are empty, lost of hope.

The infinite distance set in my life.

Things set into motion as you died.

(In a whispered voice) and leads me too. The place you rest.

I didn't want this.

Yet it happens to me.

Ripped out of my hands. I'm all alone.

(chorus)

I feel like a ghost!

Trapped in these walls, Left to cry this sad song!

i'm sick of the sorrow, I'm sick of the hate. I'm left alone with only my thorns

And all my thorns they prick and prod!

HOW CAN I MOVE ON?!

WHEN YOU ARE GONE!

(Verse 2)

(In a whispered voice) white is cold and always yearning.

I wish you were here, I wish I said I love you and goodbye.

But now I am here all alone, feeling like a rose, that's only thorns.

(In a whispered voice) burdened by a royal test.

Lost all the beauty, but kept all that pain, i feel incomplete.

Dear mother if your listening to me.

Please

stop

Haunting my dreams!

(chorus)

I feel like a ghost!

Trapped in these walls, Left to cry this sad song!

i'm sick of the sorrow, I'm sick of the hate. I'm left alone with only my thorns

And all my thorns they prick and prod!

HOW CAN I MOVE ON?!

WHEN YOU ARE GONE!

(Verse 3)

(In a whispered voice) Black the beast descends from Shadows.

I feel them creeping in. The regrets digging under my skin.

When you left all I felt was that I was alone.

I wish you were here so that way you do what you would and that you could you say

“I love you my dear daughter”

(In a whispered voice) yellow beauty burns

Scorching the world. All I feel is alone. And I'm sick of this feeling.

Deep in my soul.

(In a whispered voice) gold.

I'm sorry it's just cringe I just really wanted peoples opinions on these shitty ass lyrics.

#rwby #rwby music #fan song #this is just lyrics im so sorry.#ruby rose #i think

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macawritesupdates · 1 month ago

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Fic Writing Updates 11/10

Been super duper busy of late as I have a second job in the evening cutting into writing time and also having to get some art done for zines. Just been a balancing act ; w ;

However! Working on fics to get them updated so don't worry, the updates are coming I swear! <3

The goal this month is to get a lot of these long fics wrapped up so I have less stories to update on my plate which should equal faster updates!

JUJUTSU KAISEN LONGFIC UPDATES

The Yuuji Files: About 9k words into this chapter and just about to reach the halfway point so...it is a very large chapter, but feels short writing it honestly given how the action is flowing! Hopefully readers will enjoy!

Broken in the Ways No One Sees: Last chapter should come out today! That's the plan at least! I want to get this chapter out so the story can be brought to its conclusion <3 Spouse Wanted: Hoping to write and post an update today for this one if I can. Chapter is almost done, just have to write the final scene

Can't Help a Cuddle: Sorting out the notes and starting to work on it! A lot of suggestions to organize and work into a chapter so it has been slow going, but hopefully will satisfy readers <3 Lessons in Accidental Seduction: New chapter is in the works, slowly but surely!

Malevolence of Love: Taking a small break to sort out notes for the next chapter as the angst is heading for a conclusion now...

Who's A Good Boy: Once Broken is done, going to speed run the chapters of this story to get it completed. Think it is an easier one to clear out then some of these!

Careful What you Joke About: Working on next chapter slowly but surely, just making sure it flows how I like, but still on the docket for an update soon When You Have Two Grandsons: This is a comfort fic so it gets updated when I get inspired and needing something to write/relax from other fics. No new chapter just yet....

Mirrored Lives: Plan is to get this one finished out in terms of the rewrite to the outline and then push it out to get it concluded so it stops hanging over me :C

MY HERO ACADAMIA FIC UPDATES

Jealousy is Not a Good Friend: My other comfort fic. Especially as the readers are calling for us to be mean to Kirishima and break his feelings into tiny pieces...and you KNOW I'm here for angst.

Unsung Heroes: Working on it when I can, just really want to update it > . < but also want to take my time with it >.<

ONE -SHOTS

KiriOchaToga Oneshot: Because I want to write it and you can't stop me.

Once Upon a Blob: Because I want some Blobkuna....

FICS TO COME

Changing this fics that I'm actively working on writing as...too many ideas rattling around that I want to write >.< So these are fics that are on the docket to come and going to actually write. COLLAB FIC: Still working on this fic and excited to eventually share it with readers <3

Culturally Inappropriate: The first chapter is being prepared and I'm going to launch it once I finish some of the other long fics so can devote a lot more time to it! I want to do some art for it...but will make a poll of readers want to see that!

#Maca updates writing #Still working on things!#hoping to get a few things out today <3

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btsgotjams27 · 2 years ago

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this is us ~ jjk | 2

when you're stressed, jungkook has a way to help.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ playlist ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 3 ~ hot tubs and clubs part 1

chapter two ~ back hugs and peppered kisses | wc: 4.4k warnings: kissing, teasing, touching, language, jungkook's nipple is newly pierced, jungkook has another erection (what else is new?), oc playfully asks him to beg, allusions to sex (i'm telling you now, it'll be a while before there's an actual smut scene)

With the success of your last show, your agent approached you with a possible major network project. They were interested in what other scripts you had in your back pocket. Of course, you always wrote and jotted down ideas, but you didn't have a full script ready for them. Jae, the person you were in contact with, said they'd give you two months to develop a solid script and then go from there. It was not an opportunity to pass up on. This was a dream come true for you.

~ Six months together ~

Many people would think it strange to write in the middle of the night, but something was alluring about being awake in the quiet and stillness of it all. Your thoughts could run wild without interruptions while the rest of the world was fast asleep.

You were frantically pounding your keyboard, hoping not to wake Jungkook, as you had been doing for several hours since he had fallen asleep. He'd been sleeping over for the past few weeks because your place was closer to his (he claims), but you didn't mind. It felt wonderful to wake up to his warm cuddles and sweet kisses. He'd even get up early to prepare you breakfast before going to work. Jungkook was the ideal boyfriend - sometimes too ideal.

Instead of kisses and cuddles, you've been working on your script for the past few nights, constantly editing, rewriting, and scrapping ideas. Jungkook couldn't help but find you endearing and cute when he found you sitting at your desk with a messy bun and rimmed glasses, completely in writer mode. He'd attempt to divert your attention. And it was hard to resist, but you were proud of yourself for withstanding this horny bunny.

"It's been days, baby. Please come to bed." He sulked, leaning down from behind you and kissing the nape of your neck with peppered kisses. Your weakness. His hands wrapped around your body, squeezing your tits. That was a vile act on his part. You had to admit that you were enjoying his touch right now. Your body yearned for him.

You leaned in close to him. "I'm sorry, but I can't- I have a deadline and a lot of writing to do. I promise I'll make it up to you." You're trying to focus on your screen rather than on him. When his lips pressed deeply against your neck, your core ached; now, he was sneaking up to your jawline. "Kook..." you whimpered quietly, reaching back and threading and tugging his hair. "Mmm..."

You were deep in thought about the next scene you wanted to write when you noticed the blanket flying up in mid-air out of the corner of your eye, and he yelled, 'no,' very clearly. You chuckled softly, wondering what he was dreaming about.

"Don't leave me," he mumbled, still asleep and unbothered.

When you returned to the screen, the laptop, which was filled with pages of meticulous work, went dark. Only 5% of the battery is left. Shit. You rose from your comfortable position on the bed to fetch the charger. Jungkook whimpered as you plugged it into the wall. It had to have been a bad dream. You looked over to see if he was all right. He was sniffling as the blanket was tucked tightly beneath his chin. You were worried and gently shook him.

"Jungkookie…Kook," you murmured as you attempted to turn him, but this bunny was massive. You tried everything you could to turn him over. He finally shifted his weight toward you, sound asleep. Your fingers gently stroked the wet streaks down his cheeks. His brow furrowed, and he scrunched up his nose. His face was filled with a deep sadness.

You reached down and cupped his cheek before gently pressing your lips against his. "Kook…" you pleaded when you pulled away.

Finally, you heard a "Hmm" as he fluttered his eyes open. Even when sleeping, he was a beauty.

You couldn't put your finger on it, but his gaze was agonizing. You held your breath because you'd never seen this look. "Are you okay? I think you had a bad dream." You continued to gently caress his cheek to comfort him.

He didn't respond. Instead, he lay there quietly beside you, intertwining your hand with his.

"What were you dreaming about?" you asked curiously, hoping he'd tell you.

Jungkook bit his lower lip, unsure whether he should say anything. You gave him a small smile, letting him know everything would be fine if he said what was on his mind. He briefly before saying, "...I dreamed you left me." Then he drew the blanket over his head to hide his embarrassment.

You struggled to pull the cover because the muscle bunny gripped it like his life depended on it. "Kook…Come on," you whined.

He finally let go, pouting like a big baby. You found him adorable when he acted like this. He mumbled something, but you couldn't make it out.

"Hmm?" Trying to egg him on.

"You left me for Jin." He eventually spat it out.

"Aww, Kook…" You laughed at his response. "So that's where your mind goes? Me cheating and leaving you?"

"Baby, don't laugh. It's not funny." He rolled back onto his side, facing away from you. Clearly upset that you were laughing at him, you couldn't help it. It was a funny dream.

"Jungkook," you urged, wriggling closer to wrap your arms around him. He didn't move. You propped yourself up and kissed his cheek. "Are you upset with me because I cheated in your dreams?" You laughed. You've had dreams where your significant other cheated on you—it was normal.

There was no response from him.

"Oh my god, you are!" you exclaimed, "I have no control over what I do in your dreams."

He turned back toward you. "And you said something, too," before returning to his previous position.

"What did I say? Hmm?"

"You said you left me because he had a bigger dick," he said, pouting again.

You burst into a boisterous cackle and threw yourself back onto the bed. "Well…does he?" you asked, teasing him.

"Noona!" he whined and pulled the covers over himself again.

"Is that why you kicked the blanket? Were you kicking his ass or something?"

Under the covers, he muttered, "Yeah..." You thought he was pretty cute right now. The thought of losing you to someone like Jin must have scared him. He was a great guy, amusing and charming, but he was no Jungkook.

You crept beneath the covers to catch his attention. You crawled on top of him, leaning down to rest your chin on his toned chest, and made imaginary circles with your finger. His gaze continues to avoid making eye contact with you.

"You do realize I don't want anyone else, right? I'm only interested in your dick." As you circled your finger around a shiny object pierced into his left nipple, you confirmed. "Is this something new?"

"Mm," he mumbled, trying his hardest not to become aroused by your touch, "it's still sensitive."

He had his nipple pierced, of course. You weren't taken aback. You wondered what other surprises you'd discover on his body. First, there are the tattoos and brow piercings. He'd only had a lip piercing a month before, and now this. You were convinced he was a masochist. You were thinking about getting yours pierced. If you did, he'd probably go insane. You couldn't, and you shouldn't.

"Is it now?" You made a sly grin. "Will doing this hurt?" You brushed your thumb gently across his pebbled nipple. He let out a small whimper as his hands instinctively gripped your waist.

"Don't…it still hurts," he pleaded with his big doe eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I kiss it to make it better?" You pouted.

You smiled to yourself as you felt the restriction in his boxers twitch at your words, knowing that he loved it when you tortured him. You lowered your mouth and pressed your lips against the cold metal, hovering over his nipple. Slowly, he began to crumble under your touch. He hissed and rolled his eyes back as soon as he felt your tongue.

"What—are you doing up this late anyway?" he asked, trying to keep his attention on you rather than your tongue.

"I was working on my script, but you distracted me with all your yelling," you smirked.

His eyes were still closed, savoring the moment because you hadn't had sex in a minute. He's been busy, and so have you. Adulting, you know. Your hand reached for the bulge in his gray sweatpants while hovering over him. You gently squeezed the hardened length, causing him to groan, desiring more of your touch.

"Should I continue?" You inquired, pressing kitten kisses across his toned chest. God, his fucking chest, chiseled by God himself.

He opened his eyes, eager for you to continue. "Yes—please."

"How much do you want it?" You demanded playfully. You were having too much fun getting your way right now.

He supported himself on his elbows. "Don't make me beg," he begged, his big soft doe eyes pleading. He despised begging and felt like a child when he did it.

"It's a lot more enjoyable when you do." It was difficult not to strip naked right now and bounce on that fat cock of his. Your pussy ached just thinking about how tightly you'd clenched your walls around it. You yearned for your own release but knew you shouldn't. It was stupid of you to keep teasing him when you were also teasing yourself.

"Please, baby…keep going." At this point, he was willing to say anything.

Ah, there it was.

You leaned in, your hands on his chest, playing with his piercings, straddling those delectable thighs. "I'm sorry I couldn't hear you," you said quietly in his ear.

"I need your hands," he said, taking yours and intertwining it with his. "Your mouth…" he said, bringing your lips to his. "…please." You slowly backed away, but not before he gently tugged on your bottom lip. He smirked as his hand slipped down to your wet, clothed pussy, knowing you couldn't resist him either.

You had only yourself to blame. You closed your eyes for a brief moment as a result of his touch, then returned to reality. "Mm, I still have a lot to write," you said as you stared at him.

"Let me help…" He lifted his oversized shirt, which you were wearing. "I'll give you some ideas." One of his hands reached for the soft flesh of your ass, while the other grabbed a handful of your breast. He sat up and looked at you with lustful eyes. He wasn't going to let you get away with it. He grinned as he watched you crumble at the slightest touch from him. He barely touched you, and yet you were already drenched.

"Goddamnit, Jeon Jungkook. Hurry up and fuck me."

Another late night spent working on scenes for the new script. You frequently listened to music to help inspire you, whether it was a line or a picture painted by the song. You were always finding little tidbits of inspiration. There was a beauty that musicians could capture with just words, evoking so much emotion, and that was what you enjoyed about making music. The ability to create something from nothing - one small idea leading to something bigger.

Jungkook was over like the previous nights. It was starting to become a habit. You probably thought it was just an excuse for him to sleep next to you, but he wasn't going to admit it. You took out your headphones and activated Bluetooth on your laptop. You thought you had it connected correctly, but as soon as you pressed the play button, the sound from your laptop blared, and Jungkook awoke in a panic.

"Who's here?!" He sat up quickly, still sleepy-eyed and squinting around the room with his arms raised, ready to jab someone. He was pumped after working out at the boxing gym. It made you laugh.

You burst out laughing. "Relax, boyfriend," you said, trying to soothe him. "Sorry, I was trying to play some music, and it didn't connect to my headphones. Go back to sleep." You moved closer to him, kissing his tattooed shoulder.

He rolled onto his side. His eyes closed, his arm draped over your thighs between you and your laptop. "Mm, please go to bed. It's getting late." He mumbled something sleepily. You weren't the only one who put in long hours over the last few weeks. He was also drowning in deadlines as he prepared for the release of another game.

“I can't. I have a lot of work to do,” you said as you tried to connect your playlist again.

Jungkook opened his eyes briefly to see what you were doing before closing them again. "You've been working nonstop for several weeks, and I miss cuddling with my baby."

You had to admit, he was cute when he was needy, which was often. "I really want to cuddle, but I'm in writing mode, and inspiration strikes when it strikes, and I have to write." Even though Jae's deadline was still a month away, you had your own deadline. It had to be flawless before you submitted it.

He moved closer to you, his cheek resting on your thighs, and looked up at you with his best pout and puppy eyes. "Please—just one teensy weensy cuddle."

"Kook...we know what'll happen if we cuddle." You weren't going to fall for his tricks again.

"Hmm, I'm not sure what you're talking about." He was trying to act as if you didn't notice his tells when he was horny. When he wanted you, he became desperate.

"I can feel your dick poking my leg," you remarked in a witty manner.

He lifted the duvet. "Goddamn, it, Little Koo. Why do you have to ruin everything?"

"You named it?"

"I name everything on my body."

"You're so weird," you chuckled at your cute and adorable boyfriend.

"You love it."

You laughed. "I do. I won't even deny it, but no cuddling. You already distracted me this week. I'll make it up to you. I promise." You leaned down to give him a quick peck. "Go back to bed. I love you."

"Love you too."

You 9:27 AM Hey, is it okay if Hyunie joins us for coffee? I forgot I made plans with her too.

Yuna 9:29 AM Yeah of course! The more the merrier.

You 9:31 AM Thanks, love you. See you soon.

You seemed to be constantly late for something. Yuna and Hyunie were already chatting when you arrived at the quaint little coffee shop wedged between a bookstore and a beauty boutique. It was great to see two of your friends get along so well. You're not sure what took so long for them to finally meet, but you're glad they did. You caught their attention by smiling and waving through the window.

"Hey! I'm sorry I'm late," you stated when you approached the two of them deep in conversation.

"Ah, don't worry about it. Here, sit down," Yuna replied. "I got you an iced americano and an orange cranberry scone."

"My favorites, thank you." Your eyes widened in delight since you didn't have time to eat anything for breakfast. After biting into the tender and flaky scone, you groaned with delight. "So…what did I miss?"

"We were just getting to know each other," Hyunie smiled.

"Did you know Hyunie is a photographer as well? If I had known, I would have hired you instead of the dummy who took photos at our wedding." Yuna's hired photographer forgot to bring a backup battery, and their camera died halfway through taking photos, leaving her with no photos from the reception. She joked about staging a "fake reception" to get a few photos.

"Yah-what? You're a photographer as well? How come I didn't realize that?" Your mouth was still full from another scone bite.

Hyunie chuckled. "Well…if you ever need photos for anything else, family photos, newborn pictures. Just let me know, and I'd be happy to do it."

"Newborn pictures? Oh goodness--I'm not ready to be a mother," Yuna emphasized. "I'm telling you now I'll have you on speed dial, though."

"How are you and Jungkookie doing?" Yuna inquired, sipping her iced americano. Despite the fact that you and Jungkook had been dating for about six months, she was still getting used to the idea of the two of you. You understood completely, and you weren't going to force her into conversations she wasn't ready for.

Your brow furrowed and a grin spread across your face. "We're doing well. We've found the sweet spot." And you were in the honeymoon phase, which was your favorite.

Yuna exclaimed, "The sweet spot, eh? I recall it as if it were yesterday. It seems like an eternity since Joon and I were there. We're now an old married couple." She was relieved you didn't tell her anything about your sexual life. She cared about you and her brother, but she didn't need to know.

"Yuna, you're such a drama queen. You've been married for only six months. You're still a newlywed couple." A huge part of you was glad you didn't marry U-jin. Imagine not knowing about his cheating until after you've been married for a while.

"But Joon and I have been together for a long time. And it's different when you're dating someone for the first time. You're starting to learn more about them, get all those butterflies, and dress up for them... I'm lucky if Joon wears jeans these day,” she said it with a sigh of dissatisfaction.

You told yourself that you'd ask her about it later because Hyunie was also with you. Yuna's mention of Joon made you appreciate Jungkook even more. Namjoon is a great guy, and you understood Yuna's point of view, but Namjoon was nothing like U-jin - thank goodness. After a long time in a relationship, the small surprises, dates, and spark begin to fade. It was only natural because you had grown accustomed to each other. But for the time being, you'll cherish every sweet moment with your Jungkookie.

You'd hit a mental snag after a week of writing. Nothing you wrote sounded right. Too many storylines, scenes, and dialogue clogged your mind. You needed something like Sherlock's Mind Palace to help you sort through everything your brain was trying to understand. You were starting to dislike what you were writing. You sat at your bedroom desk, staring at the blank page. Maybe you could finish one more page, just one more - it's not that difficult. You then heard the front door close. Jungkook's home. You were never going to finish that last page.

"Hi, honey! I'm home!" He chuckled as he set his belongings down and removed his large chunky boots. He peered inside to see where you were these days. Again, you were dressed similarly to the day before, only with a different color shirt, short-shorts, hair up, no makeup, and big-rimmed glasses - his favorite look. You only found it appropriate to steal Jungkook's clothes because he decided to take up a semi-permanent residence in your home, which he didn't mind at all. He adored seeing you in it, and you adored wearing it because it smelled exactly like him. Now, who's the weirdo.

He came up behind you as usual, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the nape of your neck with peppered kisses. "Are you working hard or hardly working?" he asked, his lips still on you.

When he started massaging your shoulders, you groaned loudly in pain. You weren't aware of how tense you were, but his warm hands felt good against the tension in your shoulders. "...barely functioning. I'm at a loss. I need to get out of my head." Today you felt like a shit writer, unable to write anything meaningful. Will you be able to meet the deadline?

Jungkook pressed a kiss against your temple. "I can help with that, and let's go do something fun."

"If your idea of fun is sex, then no," you snapped at him.

"Wow…you really are tense," he scoffed softly. He walked over to the edge of your bed. "I'll forgive you for your bluntness, but sex was not what I had in mind."

You turned to face him, regretting the words you had just spit out. "I'm so sorry. I'm just…really stressed." You stood up and walked over to him, your hands wrapped around his neck.

"It's all right, baby. I understand." He nodded softly as he grazed the back of your bare legs. He was quick to forgive, which was one of the qualities you admired in him.

You cupped his face tenderly and looked him in the eyes. "No, it's not fine. I'm sorry for snapping at you. You've been so good to me these past few weeks. You've been so wonderful to me over the last few weeks. Allowing me to be and write,” you sighed, knowing you needed a break even as you pushed yourself to finish. What was the point of attempting to write when you couldn't? "...what were you thinking?"

"Bowling," he grinned.

There were groups scattered throughout the bowling alley. You were relieved it wasn't crowded because you were terrible at bowling. You didn't want anyone to see how bad you were. The one thing Jungkook was good at was—well, everything. It irritated you at times because he was insanely good at everything without even trying. When the gods created him, they must have poured everything into him, including talent and appearance. It wasn't fair, to be honest.

You rolled your eyes as he struck out again, his third of the night. Your performance in comparison to his was embarrassing. "Wasn't this supposed to be fun?" You sighed.

While walking back to you, he did a little dance. "This is fun." He leaned down to kiss you on the cheek.

"I don't like to lose," you say, still irritated. It was finally your turn. You were determined to give it everything you had. You struggled to get to the lane after picking up the heaviest ball.

"Baby, you've got it! I have faith in you!" Jungkook applauded from behind.

Liar. He knows you suck. He's just being nice right now.

"I'll show you…Mister-I-Can-Do-Everything," you murmured as you struggled to keep the 7kg bowling ball in your grip. With your eyes fixed on the prize in front of you, you forcefully threw the ball into the lane, making a huge crashing sound. Because you threw it like a grandma, you could hear Jungkook laughing. The ball began to veer to the right, then re-centered itself before knocking down all but one. You screamed in rage at the last remaining standing pin. It was, of course, the one around the corner. "GAH—-!" You stomped back to get another bowling ball when you noticed Jungkook laughing and clapping at your failed attempt.

"Aww." He stopped to take a breath. "Baby, you were so close. Do you need help?"

"I'm a big girl," you huffed, turning your head. You stated firmly, flipping your hair back down the lane. You were a fighter.

He threw up his hands and let you do your thing. He was nearby in case you needed him to save you, which you didn't. Only one stupid pin stood between you and your pride. You narrowed your eyes, mentally commanding that last pin to fall to its death. Dramatic much? Why yes, you're a writer. You had to be.

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and then felt hands around your waist. "Um…what exactly are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Helping." As he stood behind you, he smiled. "Center yourself with your target," he said quietly, almost whispering into your ear. "…be sure to keep your knees slightly bent. Straight down to your side with your arm." You followed his instructions. "Keep your back slightly forward, your arm back, and always follow through."

You nodded in response to his instructions. He kissed your shoulder before stepping back, and you followed his instructions. As the ball sailed toward the last pin, knocking it down, your eyes widened. You jumped up and down with joy after defeating that stupid pin.

Jungkook chuckled as you strutted back to him and sat in his lap. "You're very welcome." He smirked stupidly at the victory he had helped you achieve.

"Nuh-uh. I did that all by myself."

"Yeah, with my assistance," he smugly teased. You didn't want to admit it, but he did give you some useful advice. He poked you on the side, and you flinched. "Yah—" he said once more, doing the same thing. You couldn't help but smile before kissing him on the lips.

"Yah--" He poked you on the side, making you flinch. "Yah--" he repeated again, doing the same thing. You couldn't help but smile, then planted a kiss on his lips.

"Thanks, boyfriend. I owe you one."

"That's more like it." He patted your thigh. "Kay, my turn now." He proceeded to get up.

"It's your turn, huh?" You gave him a sly smile before darting off to grab a bowling ball and hurriedly hurling it down the lane to ruin his winning streak.

When he realized what you were doing, he chased you down and grabbed you from behind. You laughed in an attempt to get out from under him. "Yah, my streak!" He cried, disappointed, but he didn't mind as long as you had fun.

He was right. This took your mind off of everything. You were happy at this moment, thankful that he would always be there to make things in life more enjoyable.

✨ next ~ hot tubs and clubs: part one

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook noona #jungkook drama #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts smut #fic: this is us

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