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songmingisthighs · 3 months ago

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Pitiful, You're Pitiful

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ch. vi

group : ateez

pairing : aged up!wooyoung × aged up!reader

genre : angst, mature

word count : 2.8 k

warning : argument, mentions of cheating, negative depiction of wooyoung, mentions of loss, calling an adulteress an assortment of names, idk what else tbh lmk if there is anything else I should add

a/n : I FINALLY UPDATED !!!!! this chapter might be slightly shorter compared to the others but trust me when I say it's very much intentional because I just want to focus this chapter on this one specific interaction. some sort of catalyst or like break from the obliteration of pyp!woo's image ig lmaooooo BUT YAY I DIDN'T FORGET TO POST PYP THIS MONTH !!!!

buy me coffee ?

After the fiasco that was your unveiling of a VERY important information about a staff of the academy, Wooyoung was immediately pulled in to get his side of the story. And of course, unfortunately, you. Luckily, you didn't get chastised by anyone because you were CLEARLY the victim in this situation. Heck, the HR team even reached out to apologize to you for the inconvenience you experienced due to their staff's "misconduct" because you're one of the founders's wives. It was an interesting way of saying that their staff is a cheating whore without any redeeming value but you'll take what you can get out of them and the situation. Which also includes his own friend group contacting you every now and then to make sure that you are okay and some (Yunho, Mingi, and Jongho) even going as far as swearing to denounce their familial relations with Wooyoung which was sweet.

Speaking of Wooyoung, he had been shoved into the heap of horseshit that he had piled on himself. You honestly have never seen him so down because he was "suggested" to take an extra two weeks of break to "settle down from the issue" which was really code for HR still having to clean up his mess because Harin decided to not go quietly. From what you heard from a reliable source (Jongho over pastry and coffee after he ditched his vocal classes to gossip), Harin came back the day after she officially got fired and made a ruckus. Literally, she went crazy and made a mess of the lobby; throwing chairs and tables around, scattering pamphlets, breaking vases, and screaming random weird things like how the company is a misogynist for firing a woman for something that was beyond her control. Safe to say, because Harin refused to move to a quieter spot, Hongjoong had to step in and reiterate all the mistakes she had made including but not limited to her having an affair with a married man who was her boss. Hongjoong had even told her that while there was another party involved, another party that acknowledged the mistakes that he had made and agreed to accept whatever disciplinary actions were required, it was also her choice to partake in such behavior. Long story short, a student uploaded the whole thing on YouTube and as of today, there were 15 different TikTok remixes ranging from EDM, screamo, and even a Donald Trump edit. Without Jongho pointing it out, you could imagine that Harin's career in South Korea was over, not because of the cheating, but because of her disorderly conduct.

You found yourself spending time rather peacefully in recent times which was surprising since your house seems to always be in a state of chaos. For once, Wooyoung didn't try to make you talk to him or about him. In fact, he had the decency to be very considerate of you and your feelings, particularly about being in the same room as him. It made you feel slightly bad to be honest because although you both were going through something, he was in the middle of being the butt of the joke and jab by everyone at the company. It was sad and pathetic but also very much deserved. Sure you sometimes found his isolation to be sad, pathetic, and downright pitiful, but then you remember what he did and you remembered how he put himself in that position without even considering the repercussions.

The same could be said about Dayoung. Well, only in the sense of her isolation seemingly from the rest of the world. Your outgoing, extroverted daughter seemed to spend a good chunk of time locking herself inside her room after school. Usually, you would have to turn into a negotiator three times a week just to get your daughter to come home right on her curfew. This time around, you had a worse time trying to get her out, even making her run some errands just so she could get some fresh air. It wasn't until a while later that Wooyoung clued in on why Dayoung was acting like that. The way you went off on Wooyoung for breaking the news in such a manner without you present or even consulting you. You did try to understand that maybe he just... slipped or that he was so emotional that it just slipped out but the point stood that he waited until you were trying to piece things together to finally tell you. Yet another secret he kept from you. Considering the frequency of things he said but hid away from you, you had to think if this was some sort of behavioural pattern that he hadn't exhibited even if you both had been married for quite a long time. Maybe he had became a master a suppressing it and all it took was you forcing the truth out of him to make said behavior to come back to the surface.

On the other hand, Woohyun was turning into a more mature and responsible version of himself. the day you both came home from confronting the slut, Woohyun became so very helpful towards you. The first thing he did was took your bag and brought it over to the kitchen table before he dashed to the bathroom to wash his hands, cleaning himself up before you had to tell him to. Then he made himself very available for you by making sure that he spent almost every single waking or available moments with you. When you;re in the kitchen doing the dishes or cooking, he would be on the counter or the dining table doing his homework. Sometimes he would even try to do chores like one time he tried to help you bringing his sister's laundry basket from the second floor and he ended up scattering everything down the stairs. Woohyun was upset and worried that you would be mad but instead, you laughed it up and helped him clean up before teaching him how to carry items that are heavier than him down. Although you couldn't find it in yourself to bring it up in case you ended up accidentally telling him yourself, you had a feeling that Woohyun was trying to distract you from the reality of what was going on with your husband in his own way. One of the things that solidified your assumption was the fact that Woohyun had limited contact with his dad significantly. The two of them used to spend time together playing games or pulling pranks on one another and even on you or Dayoung but he had suddenly refuse to spend elective time with Wooyoung no matter how much Wooyoung tried to negotiate with him with everything that he got. Despite that, Woohyun dudb't lose respect for his dad.

"Mom?"

You almost dropped the plate you were washing when you heard a voice come up from the doorway. It was surprising to see Dayoung standing there, timid like a deer because she was always happy, lively, and rambunctious, even straight-up disrespectful to you, your space, and your boundaries. But never this. She had been so... quiet for a week and it would've made you freak out had it not been for Wooyoung letting you know that Dayoung knew. That was all he said, she knew. You did not know what had gotten over you to not deck Wooyoung right then and there but he should absolutely consider himself a lucky bastard.

The sight of your own daughter standing there made you feel... anxious. You probably (most likely) should not be afraid of a bitty teenager, but how can you not? It's not like you thought that she was going to attack you or worse, ask you to give Wooyoung a sponge bath. But you just never saw your daughter this... Muted. It was as if she had stepped into an old TV where there was nothing but black and white. You silently wished that Woohyun had not gone to the zoo with his playdate friends because he would be a great buffer. Or witness for whatever that was bound to happen.

"D-do you need help with the dishes?" She asked, stepping closer to you slowly. At first, you were surprised, not exactly expecting that the first thing she would say was an offer to help you with a chore. But, you welcomed her with a smile and nodded, stepping to the side so she could come next to you and start wiping down the washed dishes.

There were no words exhchanged between the two of you for the first five minutes or so but it wasn't awkward. It was the first time that the silence was peaceful when it was just the two of you. Usually, the silence would always only come from Dayoung and it was because she was mad at you for something. Not at you and Wooyoung, just you. You were always the receiver of her animosity even when she was mad at her dad for whatever insignificant reason there could be, but this time was different.

"Mom..." she called you suddenly but what came next surprised you instead, "I'm sorry," she started, not looking at you which was unfortunate because you were staring at her with a very priceless dumbfounded expression. "I- I- what?" "I'm sorry for... This, my part in... Whatever's going on with you and dad. I'm really sorry for making you take care of him. Had I known, I wouldn't have made you take him in," she confessed and you could see that she was starting to tear up. Your heart broke and you really wanted to pull her in and give her the biggest hug that you could muster just to show your support for her but you knew that it would just make yourself feel better for accomplishing something and not actually help her feel better. So you took a step closer to her and breathed out a sigh of relief when she didn't push you away. "I'm really, really, REALLY sorry mom. He's the worst husband ever," she sniffed which made you chuckle as you blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall, "Well, I would say that Emperor Peter, Catherine the Great's husband is a far worse husband than your father."

Your attempt at making light of the situation was met with Dayoung squinting her eyes at you. "Mom, I'm serious. I've heard about my friend's dad cheating but not like this. Not in your situation, and not with someone dumb enough to think she can substitute a hand wrap for martial arts with boob tapes," she scoffed, annoyed. You sighed and shrugged, "Well, people are complicated, sweetie. I... I'm not mad, annoyed, or angry that you wanted me to take care of your dad because, in retrospect, it WAS the absolute right thing to do. I mean, your dad was injured and he's facing such a hard time at work. It would be absolutely wrong to just toss him to someone else. Who would we even toss him to? His friend? His parents?" "His whore, mom. We could've tossed him out and have his whore handle him."

The very second the words left Dayoung's mouth, your eyes widened and your neck snapped in her direction to see her frowning, staring up at you. "He's a cheating bastard and we have the right to not even be in contact with him anymore," she curtly stated. "Jung Dayoung," you started shakily. Dayoung simply shook her head to cut you off, "No, mom, oh my God, you need to stop being a doormat." "Dayoung!" you exclaimed, surprised that she was able to say such a thing and perhaps slightly offended. "It's true! God, mom, how long have you known that he has a side piece who's as dumb as a bag of rocks? How long have you held everything in and just let him walk all over you? He fucking CHEATED on you mom! When you were so down in the dumps to the point that you couldn't even take care of yourself properly! You used Woohyun and I as a distraction, shoving all the attention and care to what, fill in the void over the loss of my would've-been sibling? And where was he? He was with some other woman because he is the worst of the worst and I will never forgive him for what he did to our family!"

Maybe it was the volume of her voice or the massive weight of her words but you felt your blood boiling and before you even realized it, you had shoved a plate into the sink and you were huffing, "Jung Dayoung that's enough, you should not talk about your father that way." "Why? Why shouldn't I, mom? My God, this is the first time in like, maybe ever that I'm standing up for you, this is me protecting you and yet you're still trying to make excuses for that pathetic son of a bitch who betrayed his family!?" "He did not betray our family, okay? He betrayed me, Dayoung!"

Just like it was the first time Dayoung defended you, you had experienced your first time screaming at her and to say that she was scared was an understatement. Dayoung shut her mouth and stared at you with sadness in her eyes because she had yet to comprehend why you were still trying to stand up for your cheating husband.

"Your dad did nothing to our family, sweetie. He did this to me," you sighed, closing your eyes and exhaling shakily as you used both of your hands to hold onto the counter to stabilize yourself. "Sure, he might have altered the dynamic and whatever else in our family but he... What he did was nothing against our family but it was just against me. At least, that's what I think. I don't think I have it in me to find out exactly why he did what he did because I'm weak, Dayoung. I'm a coward like that." you turned to her and shed a tear, breaking Dayoung's heart as she realized just how strong you were all this time.

"Then why, mom? Why are you still letting him off?" Dayoung asked, her voice cracking. You tearily chuckled and shrugged, "Who said that I am? I'm doing this, ALL of this, not because I want to. I did it, because for the longest time, that was what we have agreed on in our marriage. He deal with the monetary stuff and I deal with the family stuff. As much as it hurts, no matter if I like it or not, he is still my family because his behavior be damned, he... He gave me you and your brother and that is something I would never regret. For that, I will always be thankful to him and that is also why you should still respect your father. You can be mad at him, you can be hurt by what he did, but your respect should be non-negotiable not because he deserved it, but because your dad an I taught you better than that. He truly loves you, Dayoung. He might not love me anymore but you and Woohyun are the apples of his eyes, you are his stars in the dark night sky, and you are the best thing he had and would ever achieve. Do you understand me?"

Dayoung groaned and dropped her head on your shoulder as she wrapped her arms around your waist. "Damn it mom, why do you have to make it hard for me to unleash my wrath on him?" You couldn't help but chuckle and return her hug, "Sorry sweetie, part of my job is to make sure you grow up to be a decent human being and sometimes I have to make or say things you don't like," you chuckled, making Dayoung roll her eyes but nudge her hips with yours.

As you spend a heartwarming moment with your daughter, you can't help but let your mind slip and travel somewhere else. You couldn't help but think about how you and Dayoung would probably not have experienced such a changing moment in your life. So as much as you hate it, there was a silver lining in this whole shenanigan.

Beyond the heartwarming scene in the kitchen, alone in the dark and cold emptiness of the living room, Wooyoung stood with his back to the wall. Having come down when he heard the commotion, Wooyoung initially thought he might have to step in to get Dayoung off your back. But when he heard you yell back at Dayoung, he stopped in his tracks and debated If he should stay or leave until his interest was piqued and he ended up listening in on the conversation which left him feeling broken down. Despite the gnawing pain that made him feel like he couldn't breathe, he knew he deserved that and more. He should not complain and instead, he should just accept the harsh truth. Not just the facts that you laid out to Dayoung, but also the truth that your action further proved that he was truly the devil in this equation. And perhaps he doesn't deserve to be forgiven.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@atinyreads @strawberry-yeo @soobiverse @vixensss @smally97 @maidens-world @yunhoswrldddd @imcoenffl @nescaffei @miaatiny @showmehoseok @tmingi @wlv-asteria @sunwoosbaby @hyukssunflower @remi-young @roguesthetic

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permalist :

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sims3fiend · 3 months ago

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Sims3SettingsSetter thing

OLD POST REALLY SORRY IF YOU BOOKMARKED THIS I'M DUMB LMAO

NEW: https://www.tumblr.com/sims3fiend/764382296987025408/sims-3-settings-setter?source=share

---

Was bored ripping my hair out trying to do optimizations so I made this instead of anything actually worthwhile. For now it's mostly just a novelty. Rushing it out as I'm at work 4x12hrs starting tomorrow :)

This is a ALPHA IT SHOULD BE SAFE BUT IT MIGHT ALSO NOT BE. Speedwriting this post as I've gotta go sleepy.

Ignore the strange names for things i-it's an alpha.

Simsfileshare

To use, have an ASI loader like this or maybe this and shove it into the folder where the sims 3 exe is. Press insert to toggle

What it does:

Renderer Flags:

This was the original idea and what this was solely going to be. I found a function that set things like wireframe and other renderer things, so I made a script for it.

Some useful things it can do are turning drop shadows off, which is nice for reshade as it lets you do a better looking AO. Some people might find the pips, scene boxes, etc. useful but idk. Some of it is neat to look at I guess.

Game Values:

Just the one for now, max lots, it's still effected by the weird range/frustum cull thing that effects shadows, so outside of that range extra lots wont load. These are going to be static values that can be edited ingame. There's a few other ones I've found like ObjectSizeCullFactor but I need to properly test them. I'll also add some informational ones that can't be changed like loaded object count, etc.

Game Config:

This is where things went off the rails…

I'm hooking two functions here to grab and set boolean and string config values directly as they're called in memory, which is important as some are overridden or altered, or aren't listed in the files at all (ForceHighLODObjects my beloved). Currently it lists mostly everything in the SGR file and some ini settings. The boolean stuff is a pretty sure bet, the strings might be overwritten elsewhere idk. Please keep in mind that some of these settings can be very damaging to your game and sanity, do not use ones you don't recognize on a save you love.

To enable the config overwrite, tick the box next to it and hit save. They won't do anything unless the box is checked.

I'll be adding tunables (like LightingCommon) into the list… eventually. Currently they're a little… weirdly/interestingly/uniquely written in the decomp'd functions I've been looking at, so I haven't been able to get their values. There's probably a really simple way of doing all of this in one of the dlls or packages or something but idk. If you know lmk.

I'll also probably try and find the in memory location of some of them, so they can be changed ingame without the need to restart.

Issues:

If you have any problems/info please message me either on discord(fleshtexture) or tumblr ! Keep in mind it's still an ALPHA (or whatever) and I haven't really tested it that extensively.

Known problems:

Config sorting is yucky

Code looks yucky, weird names for things, don't look until I rewrite!

There was a freezing issue due to how I was hooking d3d9 but I think I fixed it? Idk I've never used imgui before.

#sims 3 #sims 3 mods #ts3 #sims3 #another rambling post #auuuuuuuuhhh #im forgetting something idk #goodnight

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grcetxt · 9 months ago

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Fuck it we ball fanfic time. Gn reader x lars pinfield WOO

Okay WOO lmk if this is shit or ooc or anything, but im pretty happy with how this went :D its a little rushed, might redo it in the future idk. Also i made Y/N bit too much like me (northern) so watch out for that american readers SORRYYY. anwyays enjoy!

I am smart.

No don't laugh, I am, genuinely I am.

Maybe not in the way that others deem important, maybe not in the traditional sense, but I am bright.

Pinfield doesn't think so, the prick.

Every day I come into work, all smiling and welcoming, and what do I get in return? A roll of the eyes if I'm lucky.

Dickhead.

But I don't let him get to me, I love my job. My boss is chill, I love hanging out with Lucky, and the Spenglers seem nice! It's a good gig, really.

I'm the "PR guy" for Ghost Corps. Every time they fuck up and destroy a building or whatever I'm the one who covers it up. I'm a real smooth talker, 'gift of the gab' my mum used to call it.

The team needs me, I know that, they know that. Im crucial to the whole operation, the sole reason why that whiny mayor dude hasnt shut them down.

I'm the one who goes to press interviews, who goes on the radio or on TV. I'm the social media manager, I make videos, and post tweets, fuck I've even started a Ghostbusters youtube account! I deserve a raise honestly. #justiceforY/NthePRguy

I get on with everyone at work except for Pinfield, and I genuinely dont know why.

I've tried getting him to feature in videos, or explain the science of stuff to me so I can actually seem like I know what I'm talking about- but he just brushes me off.

Gary tries to reassure me about this on a daily basis. "Its nothing to do with you Y/N" he smiled one day, putting a hand on my shoulder and guiding me away from the busy scientist. "He doesnt really talk to anyone, he gets really passionate about his work"

"I get that, but there's no need for him to be a dick to me, he's got me thinking all kinds of shit honestly!" I replied, exhasperated "I've never done nowt to him"

Suddenly, Pinfield raised his head from his work, scrunching his eyebrows together. "thats a double negative" he commented, looking at me as if I was stupid. Great, It's the most he's ever spoken to me and its a fucking insult- atleast I think it is.

"you what?" I ask, making my way over to him despite Garys protests. I fold my arms, looking as menacing as i can (which ive been told isn't very menacing at all)

"I said its a double negative, if you've never done nothing then you must've done something" before I can reply, he adds onto the end "which you haven't, by the way. I dont know why you think that. I treat you the same as anyone else"

I can't explain why his answer bothers me so much, but it does. Why does he view me in the same way he views the others? That's hardly fair. I'm always welcoming to him, I make time out of my day to include him in things. I hate to admit it, but I genuinely admire him aswell. His love for all things paranormal, the way he gets so excited and proud when he gets to explain the science of ghost-catching to someone. It's oddly endearing.

I tell him as much (excpet for the stuff about him being endearing, he doenst need his ego inflated any more than it already is)

He looks confused, I've never seen him look like that- its weird. Arrogant? sure. Annoyed? when is he not bffr. Happy? Once or twice. But confused? Weird. This is the guy with all the answers, the smart one.

He thinks for a moment, before seemingly making a desision. He stands up with a small huff of exhasperation, and walks off.

As he goes past me, he grabs my arm, more gently than I thought he was capable of. Okay, i guess im coming too. Fun, roadtrip time.

He takes me out of the lab and down the corridor, into a relatively well lit small room.

"Well this is-" before i can speak properly, he cuts me off. Told you he was a prick.

"I dont understand you Y/N" he blurts out, looking at me, as if I'm some sort of specimin hes studying in the lab.

"Well good." I joke. I dont like the serious tone he's taking. Dont like how aware I am of his gaze. HATE the fact I can feel my cheeks burning. Gross. Pinfield is a dick, we've established this. Why the fuck am I BLUSHING because he's LOOKING at me? Bit embarassing, pull it together Y/LN.

He doenst like this though. He shakes his head, pacing around.

"No Y/N you dont get it. I understand everyone, sort of anyways. I've observed them, I can predict their reactions to things. I know what they're all like- but you're... I just dont understand! You're so happy and nice all the time, but you also get angry at stupid stuff, but never really properly angry? I cant make sense of it, genuinely. You've not done anything wrong, you can't do anything wrong. Thats frustrating too. It's like you're this perfect, beautiful person, and I've been trying to see flaws but I cant-" He rambles, speaking like hes just letting out one stream of constant thoughts. He seems stressed, poor guy.

I interupt him, grabbing his arm. "Hey, c'mon Pinfi- I- Lars. C'mon Lars. I'm not worth the stress mate" I try and reassure him, but that just agitates him more.

"See! That's just it! I've been horrible to you, I admit it. But you've kept trying with me! When I hurt my hand you were the one who bandaged it and put it in a sling"

(i had found him almost blacked out from the pain on the lab floor, even the memory of it sent a shiver down my spine)

"you were the only one that looked for me after we all nearly died fighting Garraka"

("Pinfield? Pinfield!? Oh my god, there you are! Thank fuck you're alright!" Okay maybe this tiny non-crush had been going on longer than i thought... christ)

"I dont like the thought of you hurt..." i muttered, embarrased. this definitely wasnt how i was expecting this conversation to go, fuck my life I was crushing on a nerdy scientist who defintely didn't like me back.

He stopped his pacing and walked over to me until the gap between us was non existant. He slowly, hesitantly, lifted his hand until he cupped my cheek.

"I don't like the thought of you upset because of me" he muttered, his voice low.

My heart completely stopped, my breath caught in my throat, was this happening? how was this happening? i swear this guy was like my mortal enemy not even 5 minutes ago. so many revelations were bieng made today...

I decided to be bold, why not? fuck it, i've got nothing to loose at this point.

I leaned in so our noses just grazed eachother, looking at him, really genuinely looking at him. his soft blue eyes that seemed to peer into my soul. Not pierce through it, like some weird blue eyed fuckers i knew, but looked. gently, tenderly, as if he was looking at everything i ever had been, or would be. like i was something beautiful, something to be treaured.

It made me want to sob at the thought. god, how disgustingly sweet.

"make up for it then" i whispered, the tension so thick i could cut it with a knife.

I'd planned on being the one to make the forst move, but apparently, that was all that Lars needed.

He kissed me. His soft lips pressed against mine, sotfly, tenderly, tentatively.

I could feel the anxiety radiating off of him, so i quickly reciprocated. More eagerly than i owuldve liked- but oh well.

I could feel his hand resting on my waist, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. It all felt so tender, so raw, not at all how i thought it would be.

I felt like a teenager again, and couldnt resist letting out a small giggle, making Lars pull away. He looked confused again, making me laugh once again.

"What?" he aksed, a sort of amused smile on his face.

"Nothing- sorry. Nothing at all. Just thinking of how fuming mums gonna be when i tell her ive got a posho for a boyfriend"

"I am NOT posh!"

"you are a littleee"

"I AM NO- wait- boyfriend?"

"oh shit didnt mean to say that bi-"

he cut me off with another kiss, this one much more confident.

It felt like a million fireworks were going off in my head, oh I could definetly get used to this feeling. This war, sweet, happy feeling. My senses were flooded with everything Lars. His taste, his smell, his touch.

I felt like I was learning to live again.

#AAAA #lars pinfield #james acaster #fanfic #ghostbusters frozen empire #lars pinfield x reader #gn reader #should prolly add more tags but its 2 am im tired #nightnight everyone #lmk what you think

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honeysuckleharringtons · 1 year ago

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just steve harrington being so selfless and not taking time for himself melting into a puddle if the reader or you or y/n (idk which one to put 💀) just asked him if he was okay a lot (I do that 24/7, this is purely self indulgent) and the many times he said yeah and the one time he said no :(

i was originally gonna do a full fic style blurb on this but words have been very hard for me lately so i'm just gonna do a text post about this! hope you don't mind 🫶🏻

warnings: reader is sorta implied to be fem!reader, allusions to steve being treated not so well by his parents as a kid, part of this does mention some upside down violence, tiny mention of food, no use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

I imagine the first time it happens is probably in gym class when you're younger.

You accidentally hit him right in his pretty lil face with a dodgeball ☹️

And Steve being Steve insists he's okay because "I get hit all the time in basketball and football. I've broken bones and nearly busted my teeth out. A lil dodgeball never hurt anyone."

But you can tell he's hurt.

Whether it's him that's hurt or his bruised ego, you can't really tell.

But some part of him was clearly hurt.

more under the cut!

The second time it happens is when you get paired together for a study group during senior year.

Steve struggles with a lot of subjects, but math is probably his worst.

And it's not like he doesn't want to get better, his parents just never sat down at the table and helped him with anything growing up, and when his nannies told his dad about his report cards, it didn't end very well ☹️

But math is the one he's always had the hardest time with.

So when the two of you get paired to study for the calculus final, you can almost immediately tell he's struggling to understand the questions on the example sheet.

At one point, he just kinda places his head in his hands and groans into his palms.

And you're just kinda like, "Hey, you okay?"

And again, Steve is never one to admit defeat.

"I'll be fine. Can you just help me with question four?"

Surprisingly though, after just a few nights of studying together, you become sort of reluctant allies.

He surprisingly excelled in human biology, which you did not. So, the two of you helped each other where you could.

And then it happened a third time, during the summer after you'd graduated.

Steve had had a rather unsuccessful time trying to flirt with the ladies that often came into Scoops Ahoy.

This day had been no different.

He'd really tried his hardest to get the beautiful ginger in front of you to go with him to the movies on Friday.

But she and her friends just moved along, double-scoop ice cream cones in hand, back to their shopping.

"You good?" you asked, nearly on the verge of laughing, as you stepped up to the counter.

"Oh, yeah, sure," he answered sarcastically. "Just a little bruise to my ego. That was definitely the first time any lady has turned down this beautiful face."

Part of you, though, was hurting. Hurting that, even though you were right in front of him, he'd never bothered to look at you that way.

The fourth time it happened, you really started to question everything you thought you knew about Steve.

Somehow, despite being back in town for a total of two days, you'd gotten roped into something to do with some evil dude named Vecna.

And for once, after everything you'd learned since arriving back in Hawkins for spring break, Steve was the one asking if you were okay.

Also for once, one of you was answering the question truthfully.

However, in the week that followed after, even in the midst of alternate dimensions and weird mutations of bats, you'd learned that Steve might have been causing his previous lady problems on purpose.

And when you saw the painful expression he sported as Nancy Wheeler was reunited with her boyfriend, your own heart shattered all over again.

Still, if there was one thing you were, it was a good friend to Steve.

So, you pulled him aside and asked those three little words.

Steve simply ran a hand through his disheveled hair with a slow nod.

But you could tell he was nearly at the point of breaking.

And the time when he finally answered truthfully, he really did break.

You'd drove with him to the hospital to check up on Max Mayfield, who somehow he'd became friends with despite the age difference.

The room was dead silent, other than the annoying buzzing coming from the lights.

You finally gave him a good once-over as he sat at Max's bedside—his messy hair, his pale face with newly acquired purple spots under his eyes, a small cut under his lip.

And for the first time since you'd known Steve, you watched as tears formed in his eyes.

You were quick to rush over to the other side of the bed, your hand splaying across his back and rubbing soft, small circles against his frame.

"Steve, I know this is a silly question to ask, because we both know the real answer, but seriously, are you okay?"

He knew he couldn't hide. Not any longer. So, he simply let the walls come down, croaking out a small, "No," through his flood of tears.

After crying into your shoulder and allowing himself to finally let go of everything he'd been holding in for all those years, he just simply held you.

Finally, after explaining everything—from the reason why he never told you about the Upside Down, to why he'd used Nancy and all those girls as a distraction from the person he really wanted—he just grabbed your face and kissed you. A sweet and tender kiss, not a desperate or lustful kiss, but a longing one—one he'd waited much too long to give you.

And somehow, even in the midst of all the bad stuff, even in the midst of Steve finally breaking, the two of you could finally find a way to maybe, just maybe, be okay for once. ❤️‍🩹

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

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luvnami · 3 months ago

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not a glory hole! - chapter 16

an | so, um, they might not get freaky after all. idk. lmk ur thoughts... / mlist cw | alcohol, ageless/mdni (18+)

after the filming for the midnight diner series ended, the team was due for a celebration dinner. you let ushijima know that you’d be home late (just in case he got worried again), so he went to bed on time at 10.30pm as he always did. the last thing he expected was receiving a call from you at 12.03am.

“hello?”

ushijima’s voice is rougher than usual as he rubs at his eyes blearily.

“i’m so sorry for disturbing you, but…”

the caller id is yours, but the voice on the other end of the phone belongs to someone else. apparently, you had drunk yourself into a stupor at the celebration dinner and one of the poor interns had tucked you into a cab, hoping you’d get home safely. they called what was supposed to be your neighbour, according to ushijima’s contact name in your phone, hoping that he’d pick you up when the taxi arrived.

ushijima ends the call and sits on the edge of his bed. the room is silent, save for the quiet hum of his ac. he pulls a windbreaker on and heads downstairs to meet you.

it doesn’t take long before a taxi pulls up in front of the apartment building.

“c’mon, senpai. you’re lucky i managed to get you home…” a girl with her hair in a ponytail pulls you out of the taxi.

“heehee, thank you, akane-chan!” you giggle drunkenly. “ah, wakatoshi-kun! you came to pick me up?”

ushijima nods seriously. he lets you lean on him for support, earning a huff of relief from akane. the girl studies him carefully but he matches her gaze. she blinks.

“don’t worry, i don't-”

“aren’t you ushijima wakatoshi-”

they speak at the same time. ushijima falls quiet as akane turns completely red, mouth gaping like a fish in water.

“i’m sorry! please take care of my senpai!” she squeaks.

weird, ushijima thinks, but it’s not strange for sports fans to recognise him. he bids akane farewell and lugs you into the lift lobby. he punches the button of your apartment level and the doors slide shut, lift shuddering to life.

“you drank too much,” ushijima states.

your body is warm against his side, your limbs like putty. if it weren’t for his arm holding you up, you would’ve melted to the ground. he holds your bag in his other hand and takes a peek at you.

you stare up at ushijima with half-lidded eyes. you reek of alcohol.

“are you feeling okay? you’re not going to throw up, are you?” he asks, suddenly concerned.

you shake your head and the whole world spins with it.

“nuh-uh! wakatoshi-kun, you’re so nice to me,” you grin sloppily. “you didn’t have to pick me up, but you came anyways.”

the lift climbs up another floor. ushijima thinks of how you met him in the rain, bringing him your pink umbrella. the book you bought him is slotted neatly in his bookshelf and the tupperware you brought extra watermelon in is still drying on his dishrack.

“i wanted to. it’s not safe for you to be out like this,” ushijima murmurs.

the lift doors open.

“let’s get you home.”

“you’re the best, waka-chan!”

waka-chan?

ushijima pretends he heard nothing.

an | btw akane is yamamoto akane, the cheer squad girl from nekoma. she's a publishing intern post-timeskip, but i just thought it'd be fun to see a familiar face

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #hq ushijima #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu ushijima #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq

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staybabblingbaby · 2 months ago

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Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a2d3 Addition Post (+1,308 words)

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 2,866

TO THE UNAWARE: THIS IS A PROGRESS UPDATE OF A CHAPTER NOT REMOTELY CLOSE TO DONE! PLEASE DON'T EXPECT A FULL OR POLISHED PRODUCT HERE

Notes: The first addition post in the history of the archive! Huzzah! This chapter just keeps growing, I was expecting this to be shorter than Lino's chapter, but I think it's gonna be quite a bit longer. Some genuine editing notes - I think the transition into the flashback is a bit awkward and I would like to smooth out the whole morning sequence. I'm not even 100% sure what that vibe is and it shows. I also don't like the complete change in Reader's mood while she's talking to Jake, so I either have to make her morning more lighthearted or show her shoving her feelings down somehow. I genuinely operate like this, just code switching between private emotions and public face, so idk. What do y'all think? Is it was weird and jarring as I think it is? I also need to find a place to mention that this Stray Kid (dunno if I've mentioned who it is yet - obscuring just in case some of you haven't gotten it yet) is wearing a mask. I completely forgot to, but it's important for later. At a point in this one where I think I need another pair of eyes. Writing by yourself is hard :c

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: She/Her Reader, Flashback (yelling), pls lmk if this needs smthn more specific

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Main Part (Unfinished </3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You brush your teeth while you’re there, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as water-proof as advertised.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the maudlin feeling of the morning, ambling your way into the kitchen. As tired as you are, you still spot your twenty on the counter where you’d left it. You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. The little note on top isn’t new either, usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into your eggs, well. That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

You leave the money where it is.

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. You take a moment to wonder why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels odd to you.

It occurs to you, only after several long seconds of staring blankly at your stomach, that you hadn’t taken the time to look at your mark at all since since you’d met your first soulmate. Things have been... hectic, to say the least.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

The names of the flowers come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many a joyous afternoon learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden�� had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by your sister’s toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny hands.

You’d spend hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants. What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph. values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak- despair- that marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside. You don’t even remember what he’d said. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time. It might have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled and yelled and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything, hadn’t even made sense. And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, and the soil you’d once called home was no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming fills your soul, and you notice how tightly you're clutching the garden around your waist. You gingerly pry your hands away and study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw-marks in this garden too.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment.

Maybe jogging all the way to gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

After guzzling down half of your water bottle you enter the building, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish, and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do wish you could go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but your mood really hadn’t been helped by running from your thoughts, no matter what you’d hoped.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and so you’ve encountered a member of the public. Shocker. You cross your arms and bite back irritation that this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, your latest obstacle is the only thing around to rest your eyes on, and so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them.

A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it. Large boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists fills in the rest in a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

You can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such beautiful ink is quite a task, but you don’t want to seem judgmental for your admiration. That arduous labor is made infinitely easier by how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his form. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove his man has done it. You’re quite jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they don’t. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now. You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze.

Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to be going a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know this to be true, even the trial period was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

Your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (you think his name is Jake. The owner’s nephew, if you recall correctly) looks relieved to see you after whatver hassling the stranger had given him. He lazily waves the clipboard and it’s sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write. Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

You magnanimously ignore Jake’s gaze wandering to your chest, if only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

“So what was that all about?” You ask him as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you as he types a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Such situations weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw it’s fair share of famous faces.

Security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental stares.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for high-profile clients?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity (?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with it’s quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require it’s security and discretion like some of the other clients did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks as he hands you a different clipboard.

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, starting to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because “some guy” is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “It’s not speculation then.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with it, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

He won’t get fired as long as you don’t blab outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism. You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of you on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful of your offer to find you terribly strange.

I could really use some feedback for this one, if y'all have the time. 人´∀｀) Especially regarding my dialogue and transitions. plsplspls I would be so grateful. My comments, dms, and ask box are all open

#skz x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #baby writes #skz fanfic #skz fic #w.i.p fic #w.i.p #SGAU #Soulmate Garden AU #Soulmate AU #skz soulmate au

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lyrakanefanatic · 1 year ago

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Thoughts that I wanted to share about the brothers Hawthorne/ the grandest game bc I don’t wanna make a million posts about each one 💀

1: Phone girls dad literally shot himself ON. HER. BIRTHDAY. 😭😭

2: Skye Hawthorne MIGHT be in the grandest game, because when Avery got bombed and Ricky and skye got arrested for it, they found out that it actually wasn’t them which means they prob got out of jail (maybe not Ricky but probably skye) and she might be controlling one of the players

3: WE’LL PROBABLY GET TO SEE A SUNSHINE X GRUMPY TROPE!! (Mathias and Gigi)

4: we’ll see which 7 contestants avery will pick for the game!! (While I was writing that instead of contestants I accidentally put tributes 💀)

5: we might learn more about Toby’s backstory (or just the Hawthorne backstories in general, like Zara’s, nans or Alice’s)

6: speaking of Alice, SOMEHOW THAT OLD GRANDMAS GOING TO BE ALIVE

7: this isn’t really a prediction but more just like a possible hint for the grandest game, but when grayson tells his brothers about the riddle “what begins a bet? Not that”, Jameson says this

He says “what’s the opposite of a handshake?” And I found a picture online that shows multiple different options of what could be the opposite of a handshake

Basically most of the words on there kind of show “misinterpretation” or just different words for some sort of mistake, so would that mean that the “beef” (im just gonna call it that bc I don’t rlly know what went down) between tobias and thomas thomas was maybe accidental?? Or maybe they got into a disagreement that ended in thomas ending his life? All the book really shows is that one paragraph (that I highlighted in green) that talks about what Jameson thought of the riddle, and then Jameson was talking to Avery about the game (probs bc jlb didn’t wanna drop too many hints lmao) And then if you add it in with the “abet” theory ⬇️

It said that one of the opposites of a handshake were “refusal” and “disagreement”, so what if tobias had wanted thomas to aid one of his crimes and thomas refused, and maybe tobias gave him an ultimatum which is why he shot himself?? It’s so confusing bc what would tobias even do that was so horrible that thomas had to shoot himself, I really don’t know. but if anyone has some theory’s on this pls lmk! 🫶

8: holy guacamole 7 was a long one, but anyway i feel like there are definitely more hints on the grandest game in the brothers Hawthorne then there were in the final gambit, even though in (i think tig is the one that clue was from?) the inheritance games “special” edition bc idk what their called it said “hints in the final gambit”. (although one loose end from tig was David Golding, and @riddles-n-games had a good theory about that) But i read the final gambit entirely and didn’t find a single clue other than David, so that’s kinda weird (unless somebody else found something else they found interesting in that book?)

9: Eve might also be behind one of the players, or just trying to get involved with the game so she could get the cash prize or whatever else it is that that psycho needs 🙄

10: we’ll (most likely, bc I’m 99.9% sure that she’ll be in tgg) see what phone girl looks like and see which one of us were right 😜

11: kinda random but i will bet a whole 5 dollars that phone girls name is either gonna be flower related, or just straight up be lily. Or maybe both, but just think of how ironic that would be (there are calla lilys all over the cover of tgg… 🤷‍♀️)

12: LIBBY NASH WEDDING!!! 🤭🤭🤭💗

13: so off topic but WHERE DO GRAYSON AND JAMESON GET THEIR MONEY FROM??? like I’m sure jameson probably gets some cash from his billionaire girlfriend, but what about grayson?? he says in tbh that he’s “buried in work” but what kind of work does he do?? and who does he work for?? 🤨

14: Okay this is gonna be the last one bc i need to shut up, but does anybody have an idea on what some things in the grandest game cover might symbolize? we know about the lilys and the opal rings, but other than that i CANT seem to figure out anything else on there 😭😭

and okay that’s all thank you for coming to my ted talk 🫶😊🙌

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #libby grambs #maxine liu #phone girl #the grandest game #jennifer lynn barnes #the final gambit #thomas thomas #calla lily

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fictionalsownme · 4 months ago

Note

Do you have any tips that you're willing to share when it comes to writing Wilford? Like, tips to keep writing him as in character as possible?

Hi! I’d love to share some tips!! 🥰 Wil is pretty hard to write for to be honest ^^" It can be easy to fall out of the rhythm of his character since he's just so strange of a guy haha but I guess that's what makes him fun too! each of the points ended up pretty long so hopefully I didn't get too ramble-y!

anyway! hopefully some of these pointers help out! 💞

some disclaimers really quick: all of these are my own interpretation but by no means does anyone have to follow these or do I think I'm right or anything like that! also, this is for wmlw!wilford since I pretty much only write for him so far :) let's get into it!

Wil has two modes depending on how grounded he is. The first is a go-with-the-flow airhead who has no idea what's going on and is completely unbothered by this. Everything just washes right over him, and he seems to think everyone else is like this too. He speaks in non-sensical idioms half the time, each sentence only barely connecting to the last. His accent is pretty over the top in this headspace too! The second is when he's a bit more grounded, probably leaning more Colonel than Wilford. In my writing, he gets like this when he's reminded of his past (similar to wmlw), forced to be present in the current moment, or emotional in some way, etc. His accent is less subtle and more typically british, and he speaks in longer, more logical sentences.

Stress the right words in his dialogue. This one might just be a quirk of my writing style because I love to overuse italics as you can probably tell haha but Wil emphasizes really random words when he speaks, so even just sprinkling it in every once in awhile I feel like adds a lot!

Don't forget his body language. In a similar vein to the previous point, Mark's performance of Wilford is reallyyy physical, and dependent on his mannerisms. How he moves his hands is a big one, they hang in the air or land in interesting spots. Same for his expressions, how he tilts his head, how he sits and walks around, etc. Don't forget to keep him moving often unless he's still for a specific reason (scared, thinking, etc).

Have Wilford 'MOTHERLOVING' Warfstache on standby. I play wmlw pretty much on a loop & on silent in the background while I write him if I feel like I'm struggling to get him right. The way Mark acts him is so specific with his voice and his mannerisms and everything so having the video to refer back to is super helpful even just to get the vibe down. Sometimes I'll watch the whole thing start to finish before I start my writing session, though,, maybe I'm procrastinating hehe

Try to balance his humor, sweetness, and attractiveness. This one is a little weird, and probably depends on your preferences and what kind of fic you're writing, but for me, these are the main aspects of Wil's personality I like to focus on. Like, let's not forget, he's totally ridiculous. But he also seems very sensitive, and you know... he's hot. He's a goofball! I found myself forgetting the funnier side of his personality while I was working on my fic so I figured I'd throw it in :)

He's not as violent as he used to be. so it's clear that Wil doesn't have the temper that he did as the Colonel, but I like to take it a step further and say that once we reach WMLW, he doesn't struggle as much with violence. This is a bit more headcanon territory but Wil's violence post-WKM was based in a (mis?)understanding that death isn't real in this world. I think that plus his desensitization to violence eventually brought him full circle all the way back around to just being kind of passive. He's not scared of violence or guns at all (ie kissing Abe's gun) but he doesn't really bother with them himself either. I just like him as kind of a harmless clueless puppy idk 👉👈 hehe

I hope these helped, and lmk if you have any more questions! I like rambling about my boy(s) kikiki 💞 thanks for the ask!

#kenna talks #kenna writes #ig my writing tag fits here?#wilford #wilford warfstache #wilford motherloving warfstache #wmlw #markiplier #markiplier cinematic universe #markiplier egos #mark egos #william j barnum #the colonel #💞💞

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stickofcha0s · 1 year ago

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‘Walk in’ Doug Remer x Reader

Doug Remer x afab reader

A/N: I don’t ever post stuff like this so idk if it’s even good. I wrote this over a few days and didn’t really do a read through so it might be messy If u want a more explicit pt2 lmk bc I have ideas.

word count: 2209

warnings: slight smut?? Reader Slapping Doug. Slight Perv Remer. I think that’s it. I’m not too sure how to tag these things yet so sorry if I’m missing something.

summary: Doug Remer walks in on you changing after a long day at work

~~~~~~~~~~

You had been roommates with Doug Remer and Joe Cooper for a while now. They were the only two idiot stupid enough to offer you the lowest rent in the city. With a price of course.

You had been hanging out with the boys after a game sitting on the porch out back drinking beer and talking about how you had just been unfairly evicted.

~~FLASHBACK~~

“I’ll let you stay for only 400 a month.” Remer had offered kicking his legs up in the Adirondack chair.

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious!?” You asked sitting up, clutching the neck of your beer tightly in your hand.

He snorted taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah on one condition- if you let me and Coop see your tits” he smirked from behind the bottle.

You scowled at him. Remer had been trying to get you to flash them for a while now. He had some weird thing for boobs. He was a creep- not in a weird way though. You had basically grown up with him so you guys bickered about this stuff back and forth. And I mean, No one else was gonna offer you a deal like this, and it’s not like they’d be the only guys who’d have seen them.

You sighed standing up.

Coop looked up at you “he- what are you doing?” He asked leaning forward in his chair.

“Getting my $400 a month for rent you shrugged.

Remers mouth dropped open as you started to lift your shirt.

“No fucking- ahw my god.” He groaned sinking back into his chair, his eyes fixated on you as you flashed them.

“Take a good look, this is the last time you’re gonna see them” you stated coldly.

Remer sat back in his chair sucking his teeth, his hazel eyes burning holes into your chest.

You dropped your shirt. “Happy?” You asked annoyed.

Coop sat wide eyed looking between you and remer unable to speak.

“Mi casa es su casa” Remer chuckled softly outstretching his arms.

~~END FLASHBACK A YEAR LATER~|

You had just gotten home from work. You hated the long hours you were scheduled, you felt like you weren’t getting paid enough.

The job caused your whole body to ache. Your body was tense and you had a bunch of anger pent up from dealing with stupid customers all day.

You stripped yourself out of the faded black jeans replacing them with comfortable fleece shorts. You reached for your top pulling it over your head searching your drawers for some over sized t-shirt.

“Hey (y/n) I don’t see any pizza bites left in the-“

The door swung open as Remer entered the room not bothering to knock.

“Doug!” You cried going to cover your torso with a sheet. You had a bra on but you still felt uncomfortable with him seeing you exposed like this.

His eyes widened and he put his hands up in defense. “Woah woah calm down. I’ve seen chicks boobs before, no biggie”

He stood there, door wide open behind him like this was normal. You rolled your eyes at him. “Doug, get out” you pointed towards the door.

“Hey I’m just sayin’” he let his eyes wander down your body, drinking in the sight before him. You took a book from the night stand throwing it at him. He dodged it, a shit eating grin making its way on his face.

“Fine whatever I’ll leave” he said with attitude. “I was just gonna ask if you bought pizza bites while at the store”

You scoffed. “Remer it wasn’t my turn to go to the store today”

Remer shut the door behind him mumbling something about what he was supposed to eat if no one went to the store. You sighed pulling a shirt over your head.

You headed for the kitchen a little while later deciding you would see if you could find anything to satisfy the pains in your stomach. Doug was on the couch watching tv. You were surprised he didn’t have cable porn pulled up, beating himself in the middle of the living room.

You dug through the panty finding pasta and sauce. You put a pot on the stove to boil.

“Can I have it?” A voice asked from behind you.

Your turned around to see Doug leaning against the counter.

“Have what?” You asked annoyed stirring the water as an encouragement to boil faster.

“You know.” He shrugged.

“No Doug. I don’t know actually” you turned away from him. You heard his feet against the tile as he moved closer.

He leaned against the counter next to you, stupid gap toothed smile plastered across his face.

“Your bra” he grinned.

“Doug, shut up” you said giving him the shoulder.

“Is that a no?” He asked. You turned from the pot, your mouth open.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Well you’re wearing one of my teams jerseys it’s only fair I have something of yours” He protested.

You didn’t say anything turning away again.

He leaned down whispering in your ear. “Please?”

You had no idea what he wanted it for but it was probably for some perverted personal fantasy of his.

“It doesn’t have to be the one your wearing” he tried to compromise.

“Remer, I’m gonna hit you if you don’t back up” you warned not making eye contact.

You could feel the smirk playing on his lips without him uttering a word.

“Cmon, I know you’ve got a ton of them that drawer” he purred

“Doug.” You warned.

“what about that green one…or the lacy black one that has the matching panti-“

Before you could think your hand had swept across his face slapping him.

“Son of a bitch- did you go through my drawer?!” You yelled demanding an answer. You felt bad but from after the long day you’d had you were bound to have had snapped at some point.

He was holding his jaw looking offended. “Ouch” he mumbled rubbing his jaw. “Y’know you should join the team, you’ve got quite the arm.”

You were infuriated with him. Of course he would go through your drawers like that. Him and Coop had quite the reputation or stealing panties from house parties they went to, keeping them like trophies. Almost never were they actually taken from off the girls themselves. Why would you an an exception.

“Fuck you, fucking freak” you murmured from under your breath.

“Look, I’m sorry” Remer came up behind you, his chest grazing against your shoulders and back.

“The drawer was halfway open and I just couldn’t help myself” he mumbled.

The pot was boiling as you added the noodles to the mix not saying anything to the curly haired boy.

He hugged you from behind leaning down to whisper in your ear. “ ‘m really sorry. I promise it was a one time thing” he mumbled into your ear.

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Want some spaghetti?” You asked him disregarding his apologies.

“Please..” he mumbled again hands tightening around your waist.

Your heart fluttered in your chest at his touch. You were used to Remer being touchy like this, the occasional hug, kiss on the forehead, or cuddling on the couch to watch a movie. And that accidental drunk hookup a few years ago..

“You smell good..” he said into your shoulder.

You scoffed. “I smell like work”

He stayed there with his head forced into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry for asking that, I just let my imagination get the best of me..”

You hummed in response still a little annoyed but you felt bad for hitting him, you had reacted without thinking

“Lemme make it up to you” he said muffled by your skin. “Stop the stove and I’ll give you a massage, I can feel how tense you are.”

You sighed. Maybe he was right. You didn’t want to be a dick to coop when he came home too. Plus with his huge hands, he gave the best massages. You turned the dial, moving the pot off the stove.

“Go lay on my bed, you can take your shirt off, I’ll wait” he told you.

You obeyed his orders going to his room and pressing your bare chest to the sheets. While you waited you looked around. His room was messy. It was always cluttered. Knickknacks covered the shelves and there was dirty laundry on the floor.

Remer came in a few moments later with a bottle of lotion.

“MmKay just relax” he said squirting some into his hands.

You pressed your face into the mattress as his hands got to work. It felt so good. Remer was so good at finding all the tense knots and working them out.

“Mmm” you hummed into the mattress.

“Feel good?” He asked his hands gliding over your skin.

You nodded and he chuckled in response.

You let out a soft moan as he worked out a knot in your upper shoulder.

“Doug, how’re you so good at this” you sighed into the sheets.

You could feel his hot breath on your ear as he leaned down. “I’m just good with my hands” you could sense his grin even though you couldn’t see his face.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm, but you wanna know what I’m even better with?” He asked his hot breath in your ear.

“What’s that” you turned your head to the side to look at him. There was that gapped tooth grin.

“My mouth”

You grinned a little shaking your head.

“Wanna see?”

Your body stiffened a little as your heart started to pick up its pace. Last time something intimate happened like this between you two you were both shit faced drunk. Without alcohol in your system your heart beat rapidly against your rib cage like it was trying to break out.

He lowered his lips to your shoulder and started leaving hot open mouthed kisses on your skin.

“Doug” you started to protest.

He ghosted his lips against your shoulder until he reached your neck, kissing at the sensitive skin.

You shivered at the feeling, nipples starting to harden.

“Doesn’t it feel good?” He hummed against your skin.

You didn’t respond, trying to focus on something other than his mouth exploring your body.

He took that as an invitation to keep going. Open mouthed kisses soon turned into sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. You lifted your neck and in the process causing your sensitive buds to rub against the rough sheets.

You let out a soft whine trying to muffle it with the mattress.

He tsked “don’t be embarrassed now”

His attacks against your neck became harsher and before you knew it you were turning around to face him.

He looked down at your bare chest “well hello there” he smirked.

“Doug..” you weren’t sure if it was a rebuff or a plead for more.

He gave you a goofy grin before wrapping his arms around your lower back pulling you closer as he attacked your neck again.

You tilted your head back giving him more room to work with. He trailed hot kisses down your collar bones, occasionally lingering to suck deep purple marks into your skin, until he reached your chest. When he got to your breasts he took a nipple in his mouth sucking softly.

Your hand shot up to tangle itself in his mess of curls as he started to roll the bud between his tongue.

“Doug..” your breath hitched as you tugged softly.

He hummed against the skin, the feeling going straight to your core.

You used your hand in his hair to guide his mouth around your breast. The coolness of his glasses pressing into your chest as you pushed his face further in.

“God..” you breathed out softly.

He let his teeth graze over or causing you to whine.

He lifted his head coming up to meet your eyes.

“I told you I’m good with my mouth” he said leaning in closer.

“Y-you’re not bad” you responded trying to blow the situation off.

“I could show you more if you want, that was just the beginning.” he offered a smirk on his face.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm” he nodded his curls bouncing as he glanced down at your lips.

You leaned forward going to meet his.

“You couldn’t begin to fathom the kind of pleasure my mouth brings” You could feel his hot Breath on your face as he spoke, his eyes half lidded.

“Who’s making pasta?” A voice called from the other room.

You jumped back from Remer, and rushed to grab your shirt.

“Shit Coops home” you stood up shrugging your shirt on, completely forgetting about your bra lying on Remers messy floor.

“Awe c’monnnn” Remer groaned throwing his head back.

“Remer I’m not letting Joe catch us, the last thing I wanna do is make him uncomfortable.” you said heading for the door.

“God well leaving me like this is uncomfortable..Fucking cockblock” he muttered under his breath.

He watched you leave the room as he cursed to himself tucking himself in his waistband going out to join you and Coop.

He took a mental note to flush the toilet the next time Joe was taking a shower.

——————

Pt. 2 here

#doug remer #joe cooper #doug remer x reader #baseketball #matt stone

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activesplooger · 5 months ago

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Progress Update on some WIPS! + teasers! :) | Doe!Reader x Alastor SMUT | Help Me: Part 3 Vox x Assistant!Reader | His New Obsession: Reader x Yandere!Vox

a few days ago i posted a screenshot of some WIPS, and i thought I’d give a progress update! + teasers! i promise im working on everything guys i just want everything to be quality :) ive also been quite busy so, yeah!

Doe!Reader x Alastor SMUT 1/2 DONE

About halfway done! Maybe a lil less than halfway? So far I’ve gotten a lot of the exposition out of the way and im starting to get onto the dirty little smutty part ;) its taking awhile bc ive been busy ALSOO smut is hard asf to write and writing deer themed smut is even harder! lmao guys the amount of deer mating season research ive done is crazy im definitely on some type of watch list now bc of my weird search history lol. I’ve gotten a lot done though! Should be out soon, I’ll let you guys know when itll be out when I get more of it done! A teaser is on my page if u wanna see it!

Help Me: Part 3 Vox x Assistant!Reader

i dont rlly have an exact fraction amount for how much is done lol. i promise i didnt forget about it guys 🙏 i have the whole story pretty much planned out! all the scenes and stuff i want to include (+ the ending duh) are all written down! perchance ill do a bigger teaser tmrw idk sometime this wknd maybeee. I have all the scenes planned out and ik how the whole story is gonna go i just have to articulate it into words and spice it up! :) stay tuned!!

teaser!:

“The Vee's empire grew exponentially and are now the three top overlords in hell. You still worked for Vox, however, your job description changed over the next few years. A lot changed over the next few years…. You went from being introduced as “This is Y/N, my friend and assistant!” to “This is an employee of mine, she won’t be a bother.”.”

this whole paragraph is subject to change, i wouldve done a bigger teaser but im just so unsure about the other paragraphs i might literally delete it all and redo them and i dont wanna edge u guys like that lol.

His New Obsession: Reader x Yandere!Vox

OK THIS ONES SO RANDOM BUT LEMME COOK LMAO. this one has SO MUCH BUT ITS NOT EVEN CLOSE LOL. its gonna be like pretty smutty i think like toxic sweater electrocute my fukin pussy type smut. its gonna be a big one bc im trying not to make it into different parts but that might change. its gonna be a fat minute till it comes out im just chipping away at it every once in awhile 4 fun! :))

teaser!:

“Yes, dear,” Vox gestures to Papermint standing idly in a corner, “This one over here will also be my assistant. You’ll handle the more personal needs of mine while Papermint handles more business related needs.”

“I see…”

Vox, completely entranced by you, puts your resume down and extends a hand out to you across the desk, “Well, that’s all I really need! Congratulations! You got the job!”. Winning sound effects could be heard from Vox’s speakers as he congratulates you.

“Oh! I-Is that it..? No questions..?”

“Nope, I’ve seen enough- Actually, what size are you?”

“Uh… Why?”

“For your uniform, of course!”

(this is also subject to change btw! im slowly doing it its just kind of a fun lil random thing i like to do when i need a break or just feel like it)

—

stay tuned folks! if u wanna be tagged for any of these lmk in the replies!

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trendywaifus · 5 months ago

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GENERAL RULES

WELCOME !

first and foremost guys, this blog is a multi-fandom blog! i write for whatever i like and i also write whatever y’all like thru requests, thirsts, etc. there will be times where ill lean into a particular fandom more than the other so yeah!

this is also a wlw/gn blog so no male reader stuff. men are welcome to interact with blog, idc, just don’t be weird (so far, y’all been chilling bros) when you come to my asks and that goes for everyone else too.

when it comes to requests, im very slow and may not get to all of them. i read all requests/asks so please don’t feel like im ignoring you. if the request isn’t something I like or my brain is braining for it, i’ll go back to it later or i’ll tell you. all of the request pages are in the pinned posts too.

if requests are closed. .request are closed. I won’t delete your asks but it’s going to be marinating for a bit. even if requests are closed tho, thirsts/ideas you wanna share with me are welcome! i might write a lil dabble if it got me kicking my feet.

if you wanna talk to me about anything, go ahead. i’m all ears. as long as it isn’t some deep end wtf did u just say to me type shit, it’s okay!!!

anon will always stay on no matter what. and, if you want to differentiate yourself from other anons, you can join the anon emoji gang! if you want to know which ones taken, go to my pinned post buds!

there’s things i absolutely won’t write for thats considered extreme dark content and makes me uncomfortable like

incest, step incest

watersports

rape/non-con

scat

pedophilia

and a bunch of others

BUT i’ll consider writing

yandere

dub-con

illnesses (sfw)

disabilities (sfw)

uhh, as for blank blogs, ageless blogs, umm idk, i don’t be checking like that but it’ll be nice if your age is on there. as for minors, if I happen to check your blog and see that you’re a minor and you’re interacting with my nsfw posts. .you’re GONNEEEEE.

k, that’s all folks, lmk when/if you have questions.

#trendyrules

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little-guy-little-mouse · 4 months ago

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" Uh...How do I do this again..? "

"Uh...Hi! I'm Ryunosuke Naruhodo, but you can call me Ryuno, Ryu, or...um...anything basically!..as long as it isn't mean.

I'm a defense attorney, and my duty is to free the falsely accused and seek the truth."

OOC: welcome to my silly ryunosuke blog!!!!!

Info about Ryuno:

he/him (subject to change if i feel like it)

timeline tbd, but asoryuu will be the main ship here as my partner has a kazuma blog!! @guy-with-a-red-headband

mod has not seen tgaa yet (sorry :c)!! i've seen like a couple minutes of the first trial but that's it! i've been spoiled a fair bit so i know some big plot points tho

i will be basing my knowledge off the wiki and the game as i play/watch it, but i can't guarantee a full in-character response (especially regarding other characters) D:

list of hcs are at the end!

this will be mainly an ask blog for now, but i might poke in the rp blog territory if i feel like it.

also yesss i knowww its late 19th century japan they didnt have tumblr let me dreammm

Info about meeee:3

main account is @bitesizedgummie (i mainly post aa stuffs :p)

he/they

I AM A MINOR!!!! this is different for others, but please don't direct NSFW towards me OR character blogs. >:(

call me pickle, gummie, astro, apollo, or wtv floats ur boat!!! :3

non-weird interactions are always welcome, even with non-fandom characters!!

Headcanons (actively working on any that are inaccurate due to mentioned canon info, pls lmk if there are any!)

transmasc!! (top surgery but no bottom surgery, don’t ask me how that works in their time period)

doesn’t like telling ppl he’s trans bc he’s usually met with transphobia

hasn’t told kazuma he’s trans bc of the thing listed above!

actively trying to try new food/cuisine

also actively trying to listen to new music!

tends to snort while laughing

scared of the dark, as well as thunder

VERY ticklish

sometimes (a lot of times) misses jokes

modern slang of any kind confuses the living shit out of him

he does archery as a hobby in his free time

can get thrown off track real easy if u try hard enough

tends to forget/mishear words in english

if u give him food he'll either scarf it down within 5 minutes or eat it over the span of an hour but if he likes it he will eat it just give him a minute

needs glasses but prefers either not to wear them or wears contacts instead (yes contacts were invented in their time period i checked) bc he always breaks them

tends to sing/hum to himself when listening to music? idk how that works considering their time period tho oops

has rlly bad stage fright, especially in front of a bunch of ppl he doesn’t know

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rhondafromhr · 8 months ago

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So I started writing that Max and Steph roleswap AU and I wanted to post this little snippet I have so far and hear everyone’s thoughts because I’m not 100% happy with it yet…idk i feel like it might be too exposition heavy if that makes sense?? Like the backstory is important but idk I feel like I just kind of dumped it and maybe could weave it throughout the story better?? Lmk if you have any thoughts :)

Also Max and Richie’s relationship is going to be platonic in this (bc once again I’m weak for aroace Richie and the power of friendship being treated with the same narrative weight as romantic relationships).

Finally shoutout to tumblr user @idk-imrambling-idk who said in the tags of the original post that Max and Steph give sibling vibes in this au because I was like you know what, I love that, yes they do!! And it really inspired their dynamic and relationship in this

Here it is :)

Stephanie learned what it meant to be powerless at the ripe old age of nine. She sat next to her father in the crowd, watching the blindingly bright spotlight shine down upon her mother and beaming with pride as she was crowned Honey Queen. The applause was uproarious, every last townsperson’s gaze fixed solely on her. She’d always known her mom was the sweetest woman in Hatchetfield, but now it was official. Now she had the beautiful, ornate crown upon her head to prove it. As her mother was whisked away to what she assumed was some sort of super special, secret ceremony, her father insisted over her protests that no, they couldn’t go with her, she needed to go home and get to bed. It was a school night, after all, and she’d see her mother soon enough. She didn’t. Her mother never came home that night and with each passing day, Stephanie’s hope that she ever would dwindled even further.

Every woman who’s ever won that pageant has left Hatchetfield and never looked back, but back then, she didn’t know that. She just knew that one day, her mom was there to fawn over her drawings and point out all the little details she liked and put her spelling test up on the fridge and say how proud she was that Steph worked so hard and got more words right than last time and the next day, she wasn’t and there was nothing Stephanie could do about it. She wondered what she did wrong that her mom was so eager to get away from her. To this day, Stephanie doesn’t know where she ended up. She went through a brief phase where she spent hours a day fervently researching online and following every crumb of information she could find, desperate for any answers, but the very few flimsy leads she was able to find turned out to be dead ends. Not long after her twelfth birthday, Solomon told her she really ought to stop digging, because she wasn’t going to find the answers she was looking for and if she did, she wouldn’t be able to handle them. She rolled her eyes at his usual weird, cryptic nonsense, but for once, she didn’t argue with him. She never did figure out how he knew what she was doing. She only did her sleuthing when she was home alone and always made sure to use incognito mode.

As she got older, the list of things she had to do and wasn’t allowed to do and people she couldn’t hang out with grew exponentially. Everything always came back to the next election and how her behavior might reflect on her father. There was to be no hanging out with the smoke club kids, because he didn’t want the public thinking she was some kind of drug fiend (as if they were doing actual drugs. They were seventh graders. They may have upgraded to the real stuff now, but back then, Stephanie’s confident their vices of choice were, in fact, cloves and oregano, whether or not they were aware of it). If there was an option for honors or AP in a given subject, she had to take it, regardless of her interest or aptitude. He didn’t want her looking like some kind of slacker. Ironically, she credits that with how she became one. It was embarrassing trying so hard, only to still struggle to understand the material and receive abysmal grades in return, but it was equally embarrassing to admit to this and ask for help, so she figured the easiest route would be to stop trying. She made sure to keep her grades just barely high enough to keep her dad off of her case, but refused to do anything more. These days, she doesn’t have to sweat it. If she’s really in a pinch, she can just threaten some nerd into doing her homework for her.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the summer before Freshman year, one Greg Jägerman followed in his wife’s footsteps and vanished without a trace. That in itself was nothing out of the ordinary, but it did raise the question of what to do with the son he left behind. Solomon wasn’t doing so hot in the polls and Miss Tessburger decided that taking in the guy’s now-orphaned kid would make Solomon look kind and charitable, two of the last descriptors most voters would apply to him. Of course, nobody asked Steph her opinion. She was just stuck with this annoying pseudo-adopted brother one day and expected to be cool with it. Well, more accurately, nobody cared whether she was cool with it or not. The worst part was that he totally bought into this stupid fake family thing. He still won’t stop calling her sis.

What really infuriates her is that he gets the freedom she’s long been denied. Solomon truly couldn't care less what he does as long as he stays out of major trouble, doesn’t completely flunk his classes and shows up for all the public appearances and family photo ops. To this day, he still calls Solomon Dad as if he has any right to, as if Solomon sees him as anything more than an unfortunate consequence of a bold PR stunt, as if he’s had to put up with a fraction of what Stephanie’s endured from him. Solomon is not his dad and he is not a Lauter, no matter how many people mistakenly call him that. Solomon even praised him once. He came home from his latest lacrosse match and proudly said that they’d creamed Sycamore or whoever. Solomon, nose-deep in the latest poll and survey results Miss Tessburger had sent him, absently said, “that’s nice, son,” and waved him off. Sure, it was insincere. Sure, it was dismissive. But it was still far more than Stephanie had gotten since she was literally nine years old and more than she’s gotten since. It made her blood boil. She’d been jumping through hoops like some kind of goddamn show dog for her father for years and never got so much as one half-hearted compliment. It was just expected of her.

Still, she continued to jump through those hoops. It wasn’t like she had much of a choice and at this point, it was all she really knew, anyway. Unsurprisingly, Solomon still demanded more and just before she went into high school, he decided she was going to do sports. If there’s one defining trait that all of his constituents in town share, it’s their bizarre obsession with high school football, so this was a surefire way to impress them.

“Why do I have to?” she’d protested “Max already plays volleyball and lacrosse, doesn’t that satisfy the sports kid requirement?”

“Stephanie, I’d like to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up. You know as well as I do that nobody cares about either of those sports. Clivesdale doesn’t even have a lacrosse or volleyball team and beating them is all these simple-minded hicks seem to care about. If you refuse to bring up your mediocre grades or put your time into any useful extracurriculars or bettering yourself in any way, the least you can do is join the cheer squad. How hard can it be to jump around and do some silly little chants?”

Max was there, too. Of course he was. On the increasingly rare occasions where Solomon was actually home, he was sure to be right there at his side, telling him about his day as if he fucking cared. Calling him Dad as if he had any fucking right to. She didn’t miss the way his face fell ever so slightly when Solomon said that nobody cared about his stupid sports and she couldn’t help but feel smug about it.

“Ha, yeah,” she said with a smirk “volleyball and lacrosse are dumb.”

The brief satisfaction was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing matter. Hell no, she was not going to join cheer. Pep, enthusiasm and silly dance routines aren’t really her style. She wasn’t sure she could do it if she wanted to and she really, really didn’t.

“Well, figure it out,” Solomon told her, looking at her with the usual disdain “it’s either that or football.” He may have said it mockingly, but she decided to take it as a challenge. She breached her own “no putting in more effort than necessary” policy and spent hours a day on the empty football field practicing plays. She’d usually drag Max along with her if he didn’t have practice for whichever one of his unimportant non-sports was in season.

“Hey,” he said during one of these practice sessions as he threw an admittedly decent spiral, his signature dumb, goofy grin on his face “I’ve been thinking about trying out, too. It might be kinda fun to be on the team together.”

She scowled. “No,” was her only response “just shut up and throw the ball, okay?” This was going to be her thing, damnit. He wasn’t going to invade it like he did everything else in her life. He did as she asked and never brought it up again.

She spent hours more at the gym, doing hard cardio until she was as sweat-soaked as that annoying weeb kid she saw around school sometimes and pushing herself to her limits strength training. It all paid off when the day of tryouts arrived and she blew everyone away with her athletic prowess, earning the position of star quarterback. That alone would have been great publicity and the fact that she was a freshman and the first girl ever to make the team in any position were the cherry on top. It spoke volumes that Solomon didn’t have anything negative to say, although he didn’t offer any praise, either.

If nobody could stand up to her before, they really couldn’t now. She wasn’t just the mayor’s daughter anymore. She was the star football player and with every victory she helped them score, especially against Clivesdale, the teachers and the principal became less and less likely to discipline her if anyone complained of her so-called bullying. It wasn’t as if they could do much before, but now they didn’t even care to try. With that, her iron grip over the school was secured and she’s thoroughly enjoyed it ever since. She still can’t do anything about her mom walking away or her dad treating her like some kind of accessory whose only use is to make him look good to potential voters or her stupid not-brother encroaching on her life and taking everything that’s rightfully hers, but she can maintain the delicate balance that is the high school hierarchy she’s created and bring order to Hatchetfield High. Really, she’s doing them all a favor. They don’t know what’s good for them and without her, it would descend into chaos.

Max slides into his seat in AP Calc with seconds to spare before the bell rings. He’s slammed two of those vile tasting sugar free energy drinks and he’s praying they’ll kick in soon.

“Alright, we’re going to have a pop quiz today. Hope you’ve been hitting the books, Mr. Lauter,” Miss Mulberry says. He doesn’t bother correcting her. Maybe if he could wear his letterman that has “Jägerman” embroidered on it, people wouldn’t make that mistake so often, but he’s not allowed to. The letterman jacket is Steph’s signature look. Not even Kyle and Jason get to wear theirs unless it’s a game day and they’re her closest friends. Max doesn’t even get that privilege, so he settled for a navy blue flannel with a tiny nighthawk patch poorly sewn into the pocket and his letterman hangs untouched in his closet. Sometimes, he doesn’t mind being called Max Lauter, even if it sounds a little off. Sometimes, he wants to believe that’s what he is. Other times, he wishes people would get it right. That’s the least of his worries right now, though. His chest feels so, so tight and a wave of nausea overtakes him and makes him wonder if ingesting so much caffeine and chemicals was a wise idea. He’s screwed. He can barely pass a test in this class when he has time to prepare and sacrifices several nights’ worth of sleep to study. He shouldn’t even be here. He knows he’s kind of dumb. Stephanie gleefully reminds him on a regular basis. Solomon doesn’t vocalize it, but sometimes Max will say something to him and he’ll just give him this look as if he’s just uttered the stupidest, most incomprehensible words ever spoken, then shake his head and go back to ignoring him. He’s always had a lot of trouble in most subjects, but math is by far the worst. Realistically, remedial algebra would be more his speed, but it wouldn’t be very becoming of a sort-of Lauter. Solomon took him in when he had nowhere else to go. He’s been a lot nicer to him than his own father ever was. He figured the least he could do is make him proud, but so far, that plan has backfired tremendously. Nobody’s going to be impressed with the D plus that he’s clinging to for dear life and can still feel slipping through his grasp.

He glances to his left and sees his neighbor calmly reach into his backpack and pull out his pen and calculator. The sheen of sweat on his forehead would suggest that he’s almost as nervous as Max is, but his demeanor radiates confidence and excitement. Max wonders why that guy wears so many layers if he’s always so sweaty. They’ve been in classes together since the first grade, but they’ve hardly spoken two words to each other. Max has, however, watched his hand eagerly shoot up whenever Miss Mulberry asks a question. He has watched him answer every equation with ease, solving them without fail, even when it all looks like gibberish to Max. If anyone can help Max out of this jam, it’s this guy. He has no real reason to, but Max supposes it can’t hurt to ask. What’s the worst that could happen?

“Hey,” he whispers “Shitlips, right?” He immediately winces. Fuck, he did not mean to say that. That’s how Steph and her friends always refer to him and he let it slip without thinking. Richie turns to glare at Max, clearly not amused.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly “I meant Lipschitz. Richie Lipschitz, right?”

“Yeah,” he says, still a little irritated “what is it? We’re about to take a test.”

“It’s just that, uh, we’ve been in school together for, like, ages and I just realized I’ve never introduced myself. I’m Max.”

“Yeah, I know, Max Jägerman. The mayor’s kid. Stephanie Lauter’s brother.”

“She doesn’t like me reminding people, but yeah,” Max replies with a self-deprecating chuckle “I feel kinda bad now. I called you Shitlips and you got my name right on the first try. A lot of people think it’s Lauter.”

This gets Richie to crack a faint smile. “Yeah, I always remembered it because it sounds like Eren Yeager.”

“So, you ready for this test?” says Max with a sheepish grin “‘Cause I’m really, really not. Like, nothing in this class makes even a little bit of sense to me. I’m one hundred percent going to fail. Unless you help a bro out.”

“Oh, we’re bros now?” Richie says with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure,” Max says “we’re Nighthawks, right? We gotta stick together.”

“But won’t we get in trouble?”

“Not if we don’t get caught,” Max says “rules were made to be broken.”

“Fine,” says Richie “I’m willing to tilt my paper slightly so you can see it better. Try to keep up, though, I’m not waiting to turn in my test so you can finish copying. That’ll look suspicious.” That much is true. Richie’s always the first person to turn in his test in this class, usually by a substantial amount of time. “And don’t be super obvious about it,” he adds.

“Really?” Max says, his face lighting up in a way that he rarely allows it to “thanks, dude, I owe you one!”

#nerdy prudes must die #npmd #max jagerman #stephanie lauter #hatchetfield fanfic #npmd au #max and Steph roleswap au #richie lipschitz

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