#screaming because i uh yeah im uh

[preistestsfool]

GUESS WHO DIDN'T REALIZE THEIR FOLLOWING LIST WAS PUBLIC

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Las Vegas Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso

[hollisofficial]

[said theu gritted teeth and streaming tears] i hate tou guys that make ladyklok/ fem pics of them but make em all look big breasted thin waisted and big lipped and sexy faced i truly do

[girlivealwaysbean]

okay okay i guess i do kinda want kids

[twistitch]

I need to make some fucked up, disturbing, kinda angry yet also extremely moving and relatable art

[silverselfshippingchaos]

happy summer vacation :D

[sunshine-sky0]

its almost my birthday!

yay!

[makerofmadness]

ovenbreak update dropped and I am already so goddamn mentally ill but I can't even share any of it because I'm at school again with the crappy after hours WiFi god fxcking dammit I can't even post screenshots until tomorrow and I'll have to wait through classes fxck

[scopophobia-polaris]

So, to add on to Navi's post, because her whole read for the original was getting screenshots from the game to debunk what was said, of course....we are now here. I want to tell you that no one here disagreed with your conclusion about Ganondorf being a victim. What we here disagreed with was the method you used to get there. Simplifying Ganondorf down to solely good or solely evil is something this Fandom does all the time with little to no nuance. And even though you have written an eloquent essay, Published even! You twisted or outright made up parts of the game to get to your conclusion. In essay writing, that's called a logical fallacy, and the whole essay either twists what happens in the game or outright gets it wrong.

Now people are probably gonna wonder why I'm treating this like a big deal or why I'm speaking so blunt, because this is by all means very stupid fandom drama.

But I think when you're a college prof and you get an essay published and it's online for people to read everywhere without you, one, not giving the context behind Ganondorf's creation and the coding of his appearance and motivations, two the complexities of a corporate conglomerate in a notoriously socially conservative country taking aesthetics from countries who were historically colonized. And Three, The way that video games are a collaborative effort with usually no singular vision, this is very true at nintendo despite what people may think, and at any moment changes can be made for any reason by team leads or executives that would hinder or even hurt a story. It detrimental to the audience reading it that you do not provide them more of a couple of screenshots

Basically, many things go into a story and now I'm taking this more from a DOYLIST view right here talking about Nintendo. But I'm doing this because you keep trying to say..... well fuck man do I need to pull up more examples? Navi got them all, the whole essay is you trying HEAVILY to imply that Nintendo MEANT to do all of this, as in intentional in the story, idk I feel crazy, words have meaning, specific wording has implication, oh and this dosent even get into how localization can change things 😃😀 wording has meaning and sometimes translators don't have cultural contexxxtttttttt and to not even mention about Nintendo's history or even the short hand that comes from Ganondorf's design and the historical Orientalism behind it feels like a disservice to the paper, but much more qualified people then I have discussed the way Ganondorf is written and probably would love to discuss or link to previous writing again if asked.

And this is a cold take but Nintendo isn’t the place you should be looking to for deep story telling, they will always be a corporate entity first and the bottom line is a general audience, this does not mean JUST KIDS this means to a generalized population. And this is extremely cynical but a lot of people cant even handle the complexity of a female character who is mean, like Midna, do you really think people would handle a Ganondorf like how he is in Tp being portrayed in any form of film language as good????? This game dropped 5 years after 9/11, Nintendo was never gonna lose out in money like that.

And Dude people have given so much shit to HUGE fanartists and comic authors about their work portraying Ganondorf in a sympathetic light, you would of thunk more people would of picked up on Ganondorf's story being written as tragedy if there was something in the game that actually DID that. Maybe they would of written a blog post about how Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf and was ashamed of that or Ganondorf TOTALLY said the history of light and shadow will be written in blood thing before the final battle, you think people would of talked about huh why did Ganondorf say that there or something and maybe went 🤔 instead of it being argued that Tp Ganondorf had the weakest writing of the series until TotK threw a pile of flaming shit at my door with a picture of Ganondorf on it.

Navi also goes in depth on how Hyrule has not exactly stagnated like what was claimed in History of Light and Shadow by using the Goron merchants and Yeto as examples.

Rynling has stated that the cause of the stagnation and decline is due to an ineffectual leader that has "Not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity."

Now I am familiar with the flaws of an undetermined national unity, I am very familiar with the subject, but I’m not going to speak like an authority. Id rather let someone much more qualified make that post and I link back to it, because i know its coming. But Navi said in her post that the idea of what could of happened at Arbiter's Grounds can completely blow over someone's head if they didn't play OoT first, and I think more or less this is accurate, certain things are lost in Wind Waker even with the recaps, but I wanna join in on this in my own way...

Rynling....you may say Hyrule has been on a decline during Tp......you may even think OoT had a more stable Hyrule or some shit.....i THINK YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE PLOT OF OCARINA OF TIME BAYBEEEEEEE

THE SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL THAT I CAN PULL UP TO PROVE MY SHIT ABOUT OOT HYRULE BEING DOG SHIT IN COMPARISON TO TP

Like if you're seriously gonna link me and Navi to your essay then I am about to go full BTW it's a Sativa and eat that bitch after midnight cuZ we YELLIN ABOUT OCARINA OF TIME ON THIS POST FOR EVERYONE🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

All of Ocarina of Time's narrative is haunted by the civil war, the whole reason why Link is being raised in the woods is cuz of the civil war, the Sheikah are implied to have died out during the same conflict, and well its said that Hyrule was unified during it

Civil War yet the translators use unified the country like it WASNT under a sole ruler before? Hello? I need to go back through the Japanese script for the game again to see if i missed something of the game and freak it harder. And do realize the Deku sprout in this screenshot says fierce war but every where else, including the Zelda wiki (not fandom) its CIVIL War.

The Gate to Death mountain and Simultaniously the fence at Zora's river gives us and idea that peace was....tenuous at best downright hostile at worse given relations with the Gerudo

so today we gonna do some fun comparing and contrasting the Gorons and how they are treated in OoT to TP

and we gonna start with his racist ass BHJBHDBHKCJW

I mean, damn remmeber how mad Darunia is at Link for being the supposed royal family messenger? Link Unlocking the door to Darunia's room with Zelda's lullaby, I think it's a little funny that Darunia is hung up , you know, like he knows this is some disrespectful shit

Hey wannna hear some shit? The gates at the edge of death mountain aren't guarded by Gorons and were not built by them you can tell, the only way to visit the mountain is to get permission from the King to go up and not from the people that actually live there

God and like, there is something about the way Darunia locks himself in his room, like he does it to keep the ruby safe from all the other Gorons being so hungry that he's frightened they're gonna eat it, he doesn't know what to do on how to act about the Dodongos that Ganondorf summon on him for not giving over that rock. It qlmost sounds like when Ganondorf came in and Threatened Darunia, and that he (Darunia) sent a message to the royal family asking for help, why else would he be expecting someone to come meet with him?

"If I'm not mistaken, you came out here to eat the red stone too! Well, too bad! It's not here! What? That's not why you're here? You're looking for a "Spiritual Stone?" You must mean that delicious-looking red stone that was once displayed above the city! I was so hungry that I thought it would be OK to just give it one tiny, little lick...so I snuck up there. But it was already gone! I think Big Brother took it away. He always says that everyone is after that red stone! Big Brother has shut himself up in his room saying, "I will wait in here for the Royal Family's messenger!" this is a quote from the Goron that you can find on the middle of the rope bridge thing in Goron city.

Yeah so he sent a letter or something and no one answered yeesh.

contrast this all with TP where OH LOOKS WHO'S GUARDING DEATH MOUNTAIN

so in TP spoilers, this happens

Kakariko is more connected then ever! Renado here is wondering what the hell is going on with their FRIENDS. And yeah the Goron elder Gor Coron is trying to keep the last few people from kakariko left safe, and other Gorons, i mean, theyre keeping a piece of the fused shadow in there. also the way that entry into the temple goes in this game is cute, Darunia was freaking it cuz everyone is starving, but here Link wrestles his way up a mountain to ask the Gron elder whats happening since he was asked to come here by Renado, Gor Coron goes DAMN

unless......?

IDK ITS LIKE? ITS SILLY? Idk Hyrule isnt the best place but why try and act like this doesnt happen during TP?

so where am i getting at with this? the hell was going on back during OoT? If things are so odd and weirdly tense with the gates gaurds and non responses

"As time passed, the Triforce became a legend, and the different people of Hyrule forgot the laws and wisdom that the goddesses had left behind. Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo. It seemed every race of Hyrule was at the other's throat. Only the secluded Kokiri, sheltered by their magical forest and the Great Deku Tree, were spared the destruction of Hyrule's civil wars.

After 50 years of ceaseless combat, there arose a Hylian King of great wisdom, courage and power. Through his brilliant military campaigns and wise diplomacy, he was able to bring the varied people of Hyrule into a tenuous harmony. Treaties of peace were signed, and prosperity once again seemed to bloom in Hyrule. But no sooner had people declared peace in Hyrule than trouble once again stalked the land."

Tenuous Harmony, could you imagine if they dropped a line like this in Creating a champion? The tumblr side of the fandom would go fucking nuts with that info like OHHHHH SHIT WAS GOING ONNNNNN

This was ALL on the offical Nintendo Zelda website back when oot was the big game out, we have this cuz someone saved it to the wayback, THIS SCREENSHOT WAS FROM DECEMBER 14TH 2001, ABOUT A FULL YEAR AND A DAY UNTIL WIND WAKER WAS RELEASED IN JAPAN. THAT'S INSANE RIGHT???? ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

And then it all probably got deleted once wind waker became the new thing!!! Or when they wanted to modernize and deleted it!!! THAT SUCKS RIGHT????

And what's worse is that it introduces some new info and also clarifies something. Hey you know when I made that post like damn Darunia racist as hell

"Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo."

NO WHERE IN THE GAME THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OCARINA OF TIME IT SAYS THIS, IT DOES NOT STATE THERE WAS CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GORONS AND GERUDO.....LIKE DIN GET YA KIDS.....IM LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR SOMETHING I MUST OF MISSED.

But Like oh hey a fucking explanation to why he just fucking says that, I figure it was cuz of Ganondorf trying to almond mom all of them or that he kept talking to the King and well.....Navi already showed the GENERAL reaction to the Gerudo in castle town.

it went from oh hes just racist to dARUNIA AND GANONDORF HAVE HISTORY????

But the interesting one is why did thy Zora "marched on the Hylians."

Like sitting here like, I know a comic made in Germany shouldn't be a be all end all in shit I knew it never was and it would like. If you put this in warrior cats canonicoty categorization would be considered lower down supplementary material dubious canon, but their are things in the comic AND the Himekawa manga that behinds some behind the scenes actions given that LINK'S MOM HAS A MOSTLY CONSISTENT DESIGN WHAT THE HELLLLLLLL. And I always thought the Goron Zora war thing was stupid but Nintendo then had that out on their website, what the hell was going ON.

Because idk i didnt think much of Zora De Bon XVI and the Hyrulien King's relationship but

Now a days the Zelda website is much different and does not have lore pages like this anymore, it's more like a summary of the timeline. But yeah actually Nintendo approved shit, Hylian/Zora war.

Hyrule is progressing, its just going slowly, Hyrule is not AS stifled by its monarchy or a lack of integration during TP because Hyrule IS integrating, is people's are intermingling like is hasn't before during this game.

And this isn't even to get started on the E3 demo of Twilight princess that the trip that Link is supposed to take at the beginning of the game was to be the representative of Ordon at the "Hyrule summit

and Hyrule is described in a VERY specific way

Kingdom of Hyrule and neighboring realms? like theyre all not under the crown? so like???? FUN, that didn't end up making it in the game. the dailouge that is, But the remints is still there in the way the game is made up, like how OoT is built off is civil war bones

actually funny, Navi just got me screenshots of the way the dialouge was changed here

Like stuff clearly changed during the demo and finished game, I should of been touching more on the intricacies of how like shit was just change for no reason sometimes but uh....

But maybe @rawliverandgoronspice would want to one day like about games industry stuff if you ever want to 😭 I know you're super passionate on this and I wish I like even off hand mentioned something about how like TP is also effected by how games are made but I didn't and I'm a fool but games are complicated as hell and that post you made talking a bit about it was fun ya know 👉👈 and the Beta of Tp changes a LOT of stuff, one Rusl really is like a brother to link in the way he messes with him, it actually makes some weird Nintendo licensed shit saying hes like a big brother to Link made WAYYYYY more since with the Beta in mind, but....that also mean they tried to keep the big bro vibes....but then put the dad ones in there too like.....uh...did..someone not change his summary anywhere?

that was my big thing i wanted to talk about, navi's already touched on everything else i just think the parallels here between the Goron quest between OoT and TP changes in such a nice way.

And like this doesn't get into other shit about TP, like if we wanna deep dive into shit ya don't gotta do it by twisting the story, like I was going and talking to @blackautmedia to ask with some help when it came to like.......god idk what i even said anymore i was going a mile a minute. He wants to write his own thing on Twilight princess so im not gonna step on his toes but he has recommended Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation after 9/11 by Evelyn Alsultany, the link I provided here is too her website and her page on the book this link here is from her own site that has a pdf of a part American Quarterly with a paper by the same name.

Anyways i wanna reflex for a moment cuz ive been up for hours finishing this because my brain wont stop unless i do. But the thing that by all means started this, was not your reblog linking me and Navi to your essay, or that there is 2 versions i found out where the paper published one had a lot more context to why you wrote your tumblr post the way you did, Navi helped me get the parts that were cut, please realize removing these does not remove the sentiment from the essay, its baked in.

fanfic, its a popular Fan interpretation that there was fighting between the Gerudo and Hylians after Ganondorf was caught trying to take the triforce, but this is not stated to of happened in the lore itself or even has evidence to back it up other then the Implications of Arbiter's grounds theory

UGHHHH AND THIS AGAIN "Twilight Princess Delivers a subtle yet poignant protest against neoliberal discourses of empire reflected in the rhetoric of heroism inform the geopolitical movements of Japan throught the twentieth century"

WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT......

i dont mean this in a stupid ass way, im saying where the hell was about the protest thing, wait i really shouldt take from the published one cuz you actually dumbed down the line for tumblr

anyways again, where, Navi made it clear enough with her own post that, no, the way that Ganondorf is animated has no sympathy for him until the light is literally leaving him. Hell Twilight princess inst very kind to the gerudo either given that the only thing said about them is that they were thieves and nothing more. Like somehow OoT is more empathetic to the Gerudo, it doesn't just call them thieves, it aint great its not even good its just a bad portrayal of a people, and yet somehow OoT is willing to show the Gerudo in a neutral light at points then TP ever did.

but the reason i decided to just throw down a post is cuz i was pissed that you went after Ezlo for reblogging ME and NAVI's posts and purposefully misunderstood their fuckin wind waker post about ZELDA YOUTUBERS

dude you had them getting genuinely harassed by people with 0 reading comprehension that thinks a snarky reply to a tumblr post means its 100% correct. Webbed. Site.

anyways, I hope people don't take this as a right or wrong way to interpret a piece of work, as stated before, I read your essay, navi read your essay, you changed parts of Twilight Princess to get to the conclusion of you paper...And im gonna be real but it's kinda crazy that you're using post colonial melancholia for this when it's got some.....well something like idk i need someone to do a full ass review because there are point where i gently raise an eyebrow im gonna be real. but also like

like how do you read his book and then miss out on this, one of your whole big aruments is that hyrule is stagnate and not multi cultural and i had to grab screenshots and Navi had to get shit from the game.

like damn, do yall ever uh feel a strange sadness when dusk falls? i do. Idk this is one of the first and last times Nintendo ever delt with Ganondorf with some form a sympathy for him, cuz we got the dragon explosion in totk its like oh he's turbo evil now and he exploded you exploded him and yet the Gerudo probably still gotta pay for his shit from a billion years ago anyways idk idk idk pot shots at totk again.

I know you dug around a little for that post, and I understand from the numerous people that dmed me about that, you probably went on making an essay on their post so you could sound smart again.

And to be clear, I was told to drop some shit i was about to say about you because no one wants to start fandom drama, neither do I truly and any jab on the post itself would just be rude. people change and some people only learn to shut the hell up, so we'll keep it at that. I just hope you really don't truly recognize some of these people you started shit with.

So yeah tldr, uh.....idk, im going in for an autism screening in a month

also me watching the ending to windwaker cuz i wanted to say something about stong endings TP fans im sorry But Wind waker's ending hits no matter what best sequal to OoT thats isnt Majora's mask

The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

Keep reading

[kirammanswoman]

—and they were roommates

part 2

masterlist

hockey!ellie x hockey!vi x hockey!abby x figureskater! reader

college au! fluff & angst (?)

synopsis: you were just trying to find a new roommate. how bad could it be if you lived with the university’s most popular hockey trio notorious for breaking score boards and breaking beds (n backs) too?

warning: they’re all fucking bimbos and simps. reader ur so pretty u make them so dumb🗣️. caitlyn slander but i promise i love her so fucking much im sorry to my best girl. !!!!!!mentions of reader and harassment!!!! dumbassery. thats all. this is half edited

a/n: this lowk was rushed im sorryyyy my babies but enjoy nonetheless <3

———

Abby didn’t know what she was expecting when she opened the door. After Vi’s declaration of your arrival (and the pathetic scream that followed of how pretty you are), she rushed downstairs while pulling her shirt over her bare upper body and pulling her hair back in a quick bun.

[a/n: hey author popping up in her rlly fast to say that idgaf. they like to be shirtless. (#selfindulgent)]

Vi thought being a woman was enough to be pretty in her book, so Abby just brushed it off and carried on. She thought you were gonna be some other female hockey player with a big ego and the usual nonchalant attitude. (how misogynistic)

Click. She unlocked the door.

You can’t be anything special, right?

Swing. She opened the door.

“Hey, you must be— whoa.” The blonde was immediately slapped with your scent. It was intoxicating in the way where you made her mind blank for a second. She couldn’t think of anything else besides the fact that you smelled so sweet, like a cupcake. She didn’t even have time to register how stupid she looked, because holy fuck, Vi wasn’t lying. Abby’s mouth hung slightly open as she took you in, her breath caught at her throat. She saw how your soft hair fell perfectly down your upper body, how your pools of liquid warmth-eyes met her gaze, how your toned body covered with your leggings and tight jacket hugged your body so nicely she could have ogled at you for so much longer if you didn’t speak up—

“Uh, Hi, Abby right? I emailed you yesterday about the roommate inquiry?”

Abby’s throat was dry. Your voice was—Jesus.

“Oh. Yeah— yeah! I’m uh— I’m sorry for making you wait. come in, come in.” She moved to the side and gestured you to enter. She can’t lie, she did have a slight peek at your ass while you walked in. Lethal face card, mesmerizing voice, add amazing fucking ass to the list. (She mentally thanked her eyes for flickering down there but also mentally punched herself in the face for being no better than a man.) Abby took a sharp breath in. Lord, this was not gonna be easy…

As you walked into the gorgeous house, Vi descended from the stairs. She was toothbrush-less this time, and somehow had less clothes on. She was in a sports bra and (Abby’s) low rise grey sweats. Her muscular biceps and ripped abs were hard not to look at, not to mention that delicious v-line that was barely covered from the band of her Calvin Klien boxers—

“Hey. Sorry for leavin’ ya out there sweets.” She smirked and leaned against the wall, looking at you up and down. “Had to spit out the toothpaste.” she added with a wink. This earned Vi a scowl and a mouthed “Quit it asshole” from Abby.

“Have a seat.” Abby politely said from behind you and smiled, and pointed to the couch. As you turn to walk to the living room, Abby smacked Vi right at the back of her neck and whispered a firm and fast “Behave you fuckin’ dog.” Vi, like a dog, sulked with her puppy eyes on full display. The duo made their way to the other couch, sitting stiffly.

Abby clears her throat to break the silence. “Our other roommate has a class right now, so she’ll be coming a little later.” She smiles, and tried not to let her eyes travel down to how perfect your tits sat under your jacket.

Vi, on the other hand, grew more confident since the toothbrush incident. God, she could not rip her eyes off of you even if she tried. You sat so politely on their couch, your pretty legs crossed over one another and posture so straight she would’ve mistaken you as royalty. Normally, when she sees a pretty girl, she’s fast to flirt. Her on and off toxic ex, Caitlyn Kiramman [a/n: i fucking love caitlyn im sorry ok] which happens to be one of the most sought after girls in school, was pretty to Vi. She was easy to flirt with, easy to tease, easy to fuck. You, on the other hand, made her feel different. You were making her dizzy. The moment she say your pretty fucking face standing out their door, she knew it was over for her from the way you smiled so nicely. You weren’t just pretty to Vi, you were more.

If the feeling of butterflies was a person, it’d look like you.

———

Okay…so they’re both hot…so what?

You thought as you collected your thoughts to speak up. Cmon, if you could make your professors gawk at your public speaking skills and befriend angry cashier Dan, you could talk to these hockey players. These…greek god sculpted…chiseled to perfection…hymn worthy…hockey…players…

You cleared your throat.

“Oh no worries, I understand how demanding class could be. Your place, it’s so nice n cozy.” You laughed off the information Abby gave you about their late roommate and your eyes looked around their humble abode. It was indeed cozy, and much cleaner than you anticipated. It was a two story house with modern kitchen interior and a gorgeous ginormous marble island that you would kill to bake and cook on. Overlooking the kitchen island was their living room with a cloud-like couch that sunk when you sat your ass down on the cushions. The large 77’ inch TV was sleek against the wall with a hockey game on. Then your remembered…

Shit. Hockey. Something you don’t fucking play.

“So, you’re a hockey player?” asked the one with pink hair.

Did this pink protein pack sex god just read my mind?

“Uh— well—“ you struggled. “No. And— before you reject me already— I can explain.”

The two chuckled softly at your words, finding it charming the way you stuttered.

“Go on sweets, we’re listening.” The pink haired one said again, relaxing a little on the couch and tilting her head. You don’t know if you hated that nickname or loved it, but it definitely had you shifting in your seat. “Oh, and I’m Vi by the way.” she smiles.

“Yes, (name) go on, we won’t stop you from elaborating.” Abby, the one you emailed, smiled politely and listened attentively. She reminded you of a bear, a big cuddly bear with huge biceps and incredible hands. She leaned back on the couch whilst smiling at you ever so slightly, almost like she was admiring a flower in full bloom.

“Yeah, alright thank you.” you nodded and took a breath.

“I’m a figure skater for the school, and we use the same locker room and rink. I saw flyer and I thought I’d give it a try— but I totally understand if you want to venture other opti—“

Of course, you were cut off when the door was slammed open. Jesus, they maybe hot but they could use some damn etiquette classes.

“YO, WHOSE SEXY ASS CAR IS OUTSIDE— oh—holy fuck.”

You were interrupted mid-sentence when a cute (and equally hot— you were praying to get the ick at this point because you couldn’t fathom how they all were so attractive) brunette girl entered. You turned around to see her walking in with bags of Taco Bell and three (extremely large) Baja Blasts in a carrier. She met your gaze, and she practically turned into a tomato.

An awkward 5 second pause made the air in the room thick before a voice broke through it.

“Uh— Ellie! This is (name), we were just starting to talk about the details of her potential move-in here” Abby said, forcing a smile and shifting in her seat. She looked at Ellie with a smile, but her eyes screamed “sit the fuck down you’re embarrassing yourself”

Ellie? Oh- Ellie! you thought.

“Ellie huh? You must know Dina then?” You perked up, your eyes shining at the mention of your best friend.

Ellie gulped. She was a deer stuck in headlights,

but more so a deer that was stuck looking the fucking illuminating angel that was sat on their couch.

———

Between her and her best friends, Ellie had always been the least upfront and straightforward of the three.

Don’t underestimate her though, she pulls extremely hard. Girls are always thirsting in her instagram dms after she posts a picture of her flexing her tattooed arm after a pump at the gym, but always did it without having to try. She was, what Vi and Abby call her, a loser lesbian. In this case, she was living up to the name as well.

“Yeah— I know Dina.” It took her a second to respond to your question, she was busy looking (fawning over) your pretty fucking face. Perfect eyes, cute nose, pretty hair, and lips of an angel. You were so, so fucking pretty.

“That’s great! She said you were really cool, it’s good to put a face to the name.” you smile at Ellie and she felt the lub-dub of her chest fasten.

“Yeah…it’s good to put a face to you too. A very pretty one for that matter.” she smiled softly while heading to the couch. She put the Taco Bell and drinks on the coffee table.

“Oh— (name), help yourself.” Ellie added.

You looked at the Taco Bell, and politely declined. “S’ okay, thank you though.”

“Alright, so sorry for the informality of this all” Abby cut in between, sitting slightly forward as she was squished between Ellie and Vi. You had the one couch fully to yourself, while dumb, dumber, and dumbest were compacted like sardines into the other.

“I— don’t apologize I understand— hey do one of yall want to sit on this couch by the way, you guys are packed on one, and it is yall’s couch. I promise I don’t bite.” You laugh softly, pointing at the big empty spaces next to you.

The three idiots looked at each other with the most brainless looks on their faces, and all stood up to move.

“Oh I thought—“

“Wait were you—“

“Who’s gonna—“

They all spoke at the same time, looking at you, then at the other the couch, and then at each other.

“I can sit next—“

“No you should stay—“

“Guys just sit—“

You cleared your throat to hide the laugh that was bubbling in your throat. Your hand flies to your mouth to hide the smile that was creeping up on your face. They looked like lost puppies, cute. They all looked at you when you cleared your throat, their faces glowing pink with embarrassment. Finally, Abby sat on the same couch as you— on the complete opposite end. She spoke up:

“Okay, let’s get started”

———

You don’t know how you got here…

A measly three hours later of Abby, Ellie, and Vi barely asking you questions and instead cracking jokes, you were munching on the Taco Bell nacho cheese fries that Ellie brought back.

“I’m convinced Professor Viktor and Coach Talis are fucking!” Vi said, throwing her arms up while earning a laugh from Ellie and Abby.

You, on the other hand, had your brows raised in amusement and ears perked up due to the new information. “Coach Talis? As in hockey team Coach Talis?” You laughed while covering your mouth that’s still half full of fries.

“Yes! Yes Coach Talis!” Ellie laughed back, nodding her head.

“No shut the fuck up, I swear he always flirts with Coach Medarda during the rink-switch between the figure skaters and hockey players!” You said, trying hard not to laugh as you dropped the bomb on them. “I swear one time I overheard him say a cheesy fucking pickup line like ‘are you the ice?, because you’ve got me slipping into your heart’ and Medarda looked so over it she said she was a desert.”

“Oh? So he swings both ways?” Abby said, wiggling her eyebrows and biting her finger “how cheeky”

You barked out a laugh, one where you genuinely felt like your stomach was gonna concave in itself if you didn’t stop. “Oh my god— I haven’t laughed like that in so long- whew.” you said wiping your eyes from the tears forming. You felt warm. You felt welcomed. To your surprise, the trio was so much more than you expected. The measly three hours started with you four being stiff and awkward toward each other, but once Ellie cracked a joke about some stupid fucking niche thing, the four of you started to snowball into different topics. From these measly three hours, you laughed until were hungry, laughed until you ate their Taco Bell, laughed until you were clutching your stomach and wiping tears in your eyes, laughed until the three hockey placers felt a warm feeling in their chest despite the thick snow outside.

“Holy crap— I’ve been here for so long” you pointed out as you looked at the clock and the window outside. It was dark already even if it was only 5, the wintertimes in Jackson always promised a dark atmosphere early on in the day.

“Oh— oh right. Yes right so roommate inquiry— We’ll reach out in a few days? Up until we decide?” Abby said, sipping on the half empty Baja Blast.

“Yes! Yes of course— uh— do you guys want my number or is the email just fine—“

“NUMEBR! I mean…number yeah…so it’s easier to contact you” Vi said, a little too fast. Ellie whispered a sarcastic ‘good one’ to her while laughing softly.

You smiled at them, and pulled out your phone so each of them could put their numbers in.

“Cute wallpaper, by the way.” Ellie said, handing the phone as she was the last one to have the phone. You mentally slapped yourself. The wallpaper was of you, Dina and your pet, Dog, looking slightly stupid in matching costumes from this Halloween. Dog was a celery. You were a carrot stick. Dina was a ranch. Why? Why not.

“You have a cat?” Ellie asked, and you nodded.

“Yes— his name is Dog— well okay technically he was supposed to be a dog, but you know buying a pet from CraigsList is never a good idea. He was supposed to be a Pomeranian, but I got handed a mini kitten instead. I decided that I loved him too much to get rid of him, so I named him…Dog…instead…” you shuffled, cringing at yourself because you must sound so, so stupid right now. Ellie bit back the stupidest fucking smile. You are so fucking cute. She could eat you out up on the spot. Right now.

“You named your cat…Dog?” Vi asked, amused and smirking. “That’s real charming, sweets.” She laughed put her hands in the pockets of her (Abby’s) sweats.

“Charming? S’ a little stupid honestly—“

“Oh no it isn’t. I had a turtle when I younger and named her Fish. If that’s any consolation.” Abby adds and she laughs.

“Phew, okay so I’m not alone in this boat. Oh, I hope it’s okay that I have a pet, I forgot to mention it since we all got…” You look at the coffee table with Taco Bell sauce packets and wrappers messily sprawled on it “…off topic.” you laugh, and so do they.

“I’ll help clean by the way—“

“No! No, we couldn’t ask you to do that sweets. S’ okay, you should get home before it gets too dark.” Vi waved you off with a smile.

“We’ll walk ya out.” Ellie added, gesturing to the front door.

You left their place feeling so different than you expected. They bid their farewell as you pull out of their driveway, the trio waving goodbye and screaming ‘DRIVE SAFE!’ as you get farther. A part of you couldn’t believe how well it went.

The other part of you wanted them to text you so bad; saying that they would love to have you as their new roommate.

———

“We are not having her as our other fucking roommate—“

“Ellie— what the fuck? Why?”

“Vi, use your damn head—“

“Okay guys let’s relax and think this through.”

After you left and the door to their house shut, hell broke loose. The trio had two opposing parties and an undecided one. The decision was gonna be so much harder than they anticipated. They argued while cleaning the mess in the coffee table, they argued while putting away the dishes, and they are still arguing. It’s been an hour.

“Vi, we are ALL clearly into her, how do you think having her as a roommate would be?” Ellie argued

“Ellie, come-fucking-on! It’s too early to make that decision! And so what if we’re all into her? (Name’s) a fucking adult and so are we! We can control ourselves!” Vi barked back, getting slightly irritated at her best friend’s immediate dismissal.

“All I’m saying is that— If she does move in, how the fuck’ll that affect how we act towards each other? How people act towards her? Listen, we’re not so known for being the most…modest…people. We’re fuckin’ notorious for sleeping around okay, and what’ll happen to (name’s) image if people find out she’s living with us! For all we know, people could hate her because of us! It’s happened before— you know it has. Your ex was subjected to the worst after people found out that you guys were a thing. The only difference there is that Caitlyn’s a fuckin’ bitch and moved on so fast! She could take the criticism!”

She paused, and took a deep breath. Her voice was now, much softer. “I’m not saying (name) cant, but come on, she was a fucking carrot stick for halloween. She has a kitten named Dog. She’s too—“ Ellie huffed out, and there was a pause. The air was thick.

“—Sweet?” Abby finished for her, smiling a sad smile when reminded of your presence. Sweet. Like a cupcake.

Ellie let out a breathless “yeah.” and shook her head.

Vi sighed, shaking her head. “Fuck. You have a point.” she said, massaging her temples.

They stay quiet for a second, letting the reality sink in. Ellie broke the silence.

“Abby, what do you think? You’re the most logical one with this typa shit, plus you pay the most— what do you want?” Ellie said while sighing. They moved to the kitchen now, Vi sitting on the island while Abby was preparing her meal prep on the stove. Ellie was sitting on the island stool, conflicted.

“You have a point. I mean, fuck, people are brutal. I don’t want her to face all that.” Abby said, turning off the stove and sighing.

“So…?”

“So I think we know our answer…” Abby hesitated to say.

“Damn. Fuck.” Vi cursed. “M’ not textin’ her. I don’t wanna break the news that we’re rejecting her.” She shook her head.

“I don’t want to either.” Ellie said, her fingers playing with her bracelet.

Abby scoffed and glared at the two. “You guys fuckin’ suck.” She let out a long sigh, and raked her fingers through her hair. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, getting ready to text you, but was met with surprise instead.

You texted first..?

She was perplexed, and saw that you had just sent it a little over three minutes ago. She opened her messages:

2 new messages from (name)

(name): hey abby, sorry for the inconvenience i know i just left. they’re evacuating our dorm because this creepy guy found a way in and started harassing me n the girls here— it’s been a reoccurring problem for months. the police have him in custody rn tho. im in the er rn— nothing serious but the police js wanted to do an overall check for all the girls he encountered bc he was literally insane n on heavy drugs.

(name): im texting to ask if i can crash tonight? my brother and Dina are out of town for a weekend get- away n all my friends lived in the same dorm building n are all spread out now. sorry again, i can always book a hotel if u cant!! no worries :)

Oh, Abby was fuckin’ livid. You were harassed? You sweet, sweet girl? You?

If fumes could be seen seeping out of Abby’s ears, it’s beyond be palpable that Abby was beyond furious.

“What? Abby what happened?” Ellie was fast to ask, noticing her best friend’s shift in demeanor.

Abby didn’t respond to Ellie, but her fingers typed faster than she could think.

3 new messages from abby

abby: what the fuck? (name) are you okay? send me the address of the ER now, m’ coming to getcha.

abby: forget about booking a fuckin’ hotel ur staying here. we’d be happy to have u as a roommate, ur moving in as soon as possible, n never going back to that shitty dorm.

abby: hang tight sweet girl, im omw.

Abby didn’t register the nickname she called you, she didn’t give a fuck. It was true, you are such a sweet girl, so sweet that your scent was imprinted on her when you gave each of them a parting hug. No, she wasn’t gonna go on with the night knowing some fuckass creep put his hands on you.

“Abby, what the fuck is going on?” Vi lost her patience, standing from the kitchen counter. Ellie followed too, seeing as Abby was grabbing her keys and heading out.

Abby was ready to sh00t someone at this point. She let out an irritated sigh, and was throwing the pillows of the couch to find her hat, tucked under a pillow.

She found it, put it on, and quickly explained the situation.

“Fucking— (name’s) in the ER. A fucking creep somehow entered her dorm building and started harassing her and the girls there.” Abby said, rushing toward the garage door. Ellie and Vi stood there, frozen with anger.

“Well are yall fuckin’ coming?” Abby yelled.

Ellie and Vi scrabbled to their stuff, both gradually getting angrier and angrier as reality set in

Oh, they were coming alright. They were ready to declare war on whoever the fuck did this.

———

taglist (i couldn’t find some of yall im so sorry :( )

@lanadelreyluvr22 @h2pinky @yourcherrybaby666 @ellieslittleslutt @saturnhas82moons @aaaaslaaaan @danimp3 @alunevi @rdfgfv @popspeach07 @valenbodoque @mellohatesyou @ghgygd @seraphicsentences @auroraslibrary @haikyuunerd @lvlymicha @sevikas-whore @booistoleyou @femme-historian @jack-frost-2010 @bella-72-23 @dontcensor @auraclus @diana-rose-25 @abbyismywife @hiphip-horray @pia-veronique @brooks-lin @abbysleftbicepp @agabbsc @ilovemydinoboi @tlouloser

[slxtarchive]

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … you’ve never been eaten out and matt’s never tried…so firsts all around

ᥫ᭡ … you and matt had been hanging out in your room for the past hour. you had just gotten home and he decided to stay over for a bit.

you were watching a show that had a tiny sex scene in it.

“it cannot be that good.” your jaw was dropped as the actress was screaming.

matt laughed at your comment. “that guys ego is definitely high if he’s getting a reaction like that.

“yeah, like she’s practically screaming and shouting. although, who am i to judge. i wouldn’t know.” you shrugged. “but i mean if she’s screaming that loud at being eaten out, imagine how good the sex is.”

unfortunately that comment you made had matt fantasizing about how it would be to eat a girl out and it was odd because he saw you as the girl.

he was fidgeting with his shorts as he felt himself harden at his thoughts. he decided to try to ignore it until you asked him an interesting question.

“had a girl ever screamed like that when you had given her head? i’m curious.” you popped a popcorn in your mouth.

he hesitated. “u-uhh, i’ve never really…” he didn’t finish his sentence. you gulped.

“really?” you asked in shock. “sorry, i just…i’d just thought that you have.”

“no..have you ever..you know..” he didn’t want to say anything else.

“ever…” you were waiting for him to ask.

“been eaten out.” he blurted. his boner making things worse.

“oh! um no i haven’t. i’ve like imagined it but nope, never happened to me.” the movie was the least of both of your worries now that you were both thinking of the same topic.

matt couldn’t help but imagine how you’d be in that situation. someone’s head in between your thighs — preferably his head.

“all quiet now.. have i made things awkward.” you pretended to wince.

“oh, no sorry i was just thinking… i kinda wanna know how to. like how to eat a girl out, it’d be good to have some experience i guess.” he confessed.

“uh huh…” you nodded slowly. “maybe…you can practice? on me.”

his eyes widened at your proposal. “you don’t think it would be a little weird?”

“no, im just gonna tell you what feels good and then we’ll both get what we want! given you make me cum, duh.” you laughed.

keep it cool. you thought.

“are you sure?” matt asked again, not wanting for this to be something you’d regret in the near future.

you nodded and that’s how you got to the position in which you were leaned against the headboard waiting for matt to take your underwear off.

“go ahead.” you reassured him as he toyed with your waistband.

“okay.” he whispered pulling your panties down slowly.

the suspense of the situation had you aroused. you were excited but at the same time nervous. you kept telling yourself, he’s your best friend, it’s okay. he won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with.

your pussy and matt were face to face. he gulped a little intimated because he wanted to be good at it.

“sooo i just, go right in?” he asked pursing his lips.

“i guess so… maybe idk, foreplay? or wait is this considered foreplay?” you asked confused.

“i don’t- im not sure.” he said, unable to tear his eyes away from your center.

“okay, so maybe like use your fingers first?” you knew it was seconds away from being awkward.

as you were about to just say forget it you felt matt’s finger ghost over your leaky hole. he gathered some of your arousal and lathered it over your clit. he then continued to stimulate your clit. your legs bucked up at the sensation.

“am i doing okay?” he whispered, the only thing illuminating his face was the sunset lamp in the corner of your room.

“y-yeah.” you moaned slightly, as he continued to stimulate you. you looked down at him, his fluffy hair and his beautiful eyes. the sight alone had you wanting to just-

your thoughts couldn’t even complete because you felt matt’s hot tongue on you. you let out a deep breath as you leaned back and closed your eyes at the pleasure.

his tongue flicked over your clit as he looked up at you for reassurance that he was making you feel good. while matt was taking his time, his thoughts were elsewhere enjoying the way you tasted. in seconds he was devouring you, addicted to the way you tasted.

he licked a long stripe over your center pulling your thighs toward him. he sucked on your puffy clit. “r-right there. fuck—” your eyes tightly shut.

“you taste so fucking good…” matt muttered against you. he was consuming you. it was as if he lost all control in himself. he couldn’t get enough. “tell me how good i’m doing.”

you nodded quickly. “you’re doing s-so good.” you threaded your hands through his brunette hair. yes you had fantasized about this situation — not with matt specifically but this situation for sure.

matt’s ego boosted as a spurt of whimpers escaped you as he entered his middle finger in you. he pumped it in and out whilst continuing his previous work on your clit. he had been doing so good, you were on the verge of cumming.

matt could tell too — by the way your thighs were starting to close around his head and shake. he didn’t know how he had lived without the taste of you on his tongue. he didn’t ever want to stop. he wanted to do this everyday of his life.

you tried to blurt out the words but you struggled; sensitive to how fast he was flicking your clit. he looked up to see your struggle and grinned against you.

“go on, cum on my tongue. i wanna taste it.” he begged. matt needed to taste you. he enjoyed seeing you writhing underneath him. the way you were struggling to grapple onto reality.

you nodded finally feeling your body seize up as your orgasm washed over you like a big wave. you were tugging on matt’s hair trying to get him away from your sensitive pussy but your orgasm made him want to push you further.

you had begun to feel so sensitive you tried to push his head away as much as you could while whining. “f-fuck — sensitive matt.” you begged and he finally pulled away.

your chest was heaving up and down. you had started to slow your breathing and opened your eyes. matt with your shiny substance drooled and covering his mouth and chin. he had a smug grin on his face symbolizing he was definitely pleased with himself.

“please tell me you’ll let me do that again.” he licked his lips.

you took another deep breath and combed through his hair with your hand. “how could i not?”

© slxtarchive

[leclercwriting]

little verstappen | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x wife!reader basically max being girl dad coded

masterlist

y/n.verstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 741.698 others

caption: daddy's lucky charm

view all comments

landonorris: where is my lucky charm when i need it?

y/n.verstappen: sorry shes only supporting max maxverstappen1: stop stealing my daughter lando

user4: Omgg i love girl dad max

danielricciardo: P is so cute

maxverstappen1: thanks but if you saw her when she has to go shower u wouldn't write this y/n.verstappen: that's true...

user5: she's mini version of max

y/n.verstappen: i knoow. she's his little copy. AFTER I WAS CARYING HER FOR ALMOST A YEAR!!!! victoriaverstappen: verstappen genes are strong. People still think that my kids are max's kids....

maxverstappen1

liked by y/n.verstappen, danielricciardo and 748.614 others

caption: who's gonna tell daniel that he's babysitting P in 2 days?

view all comments

danielricciardo: I'M WHAT?! EMILIAN

y/n.verstappen: oopps. sorry but you're uncle danny and uncle danny is called for the babysitting duties maxverstappen1: we're gonna pay you don't worry danielricciardo: I DON'T NEED MONEY. I'M NOT GONNA BABYSIT THAT MINI MAX landonorris: stop screaming dude maxverstappen1: uh lando we need you to babysit P on wednesday.. landonorris: BRO

user5: the comments lol

user8: poor danny boy

user67: i love this family

danielricciardo

liked by y/nverstappen, maxverstappen and 847,557 others

caption: the best uncle reward goes to me because i was forced to babysit this little devil

view all comments

maxverstappen1: thanks for your service

landonorris: now im next...

user55: someone save lando user25: SOMEONE SAVE PENELOPE. LANDO IS THE CHILD

user6: danny is really the best uncle

maxverstappen1: he is

landonorris

liked by y/n.verstappen, maxverstappen1 and 854.585 others

caption: future mclaren driver

view all comments

maxverstappen1: GET HER AWAY FROM THE MCLAREN CAR

landonorris: naaah, she likes orange cars y/n.verstappen: max is having heart attack next to me

user7: not lando making max's daughter a mclaren fan

danielricciardo: she's not mclaren fan.. boooooo

landonorris: shut up muppet

mclaren: new mclaren reserve driver

user45: lool poor max

maxverstappen1

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and 742,563 others

caption: enjoyed our time alone until lando tried to turn my baby into mclaren fan

view all comments

landonorris: she was born a mclaren fan. orange suits her

maxverstappen1: yeah orange suits her. but the dutch one

user7: this is still too funny

user122: why is no one talking about them?? i need to have husband like max

y/n.verstappen: u need great wife like me maxverstappen1: everybody needs their y/n

redbullracing: P has a place in our team already

y/n.verstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 984,526 others

caption: and now the best part. summer break with the verstappens

view all commnets

user7: yall are too cute

y/n.verstappen: tysm

user85: I LOVE THEM. P IS SO BIG

maverstappen1: our baby is growing up so fast

landonorris: family goals

danielricciardo: you cant even take care of a goldfish u muppet

[animeshotsh]

When I lost you | Young!Silco x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death - Reader is sick - Silco is still not a gang lord - Silco does not want Reader to try any drug - Italics = memories - ANGST - grammar mistakes -

When Silco was alone in his office, when he knew not even Jinx was around his mind liked to go back in time to see memories of a different time, so different that it almost seemed like these were dreams.

He remembers you well. Your face, your body, your eyes, they never once lied to him. You always showed him your true colors and motivations. You wanted a better place, a future, a good place for the next generation. Stop the undercity of being know as a place of crime.

You wanted so much.

"What's on your mind Sil?" You asked one hand under your chin as you studied him.

Once again Silco was thinking on how...how to improve lives, how could he and Vander make the undercity different?

"Nothing important" He had said "Just thinking on how you look today" He added smirking when you blushed at his words.

"Charming, I hope this does not mean you or Vande did something...because your sweet talking wont work on me"

"Doesnt always?" He asked pulling you on his lap making you laught. He smelled your hair and let out a content sound. He liked this, this moment. He wanted to stop time and be here forever.

The silence was broken by a heavy cought from you, one that made you have to stand up to breath the little air you could.

"Are you alright Love?" Silco asked getting closer making circles on your back as he saw how you nodded still breathing hard.

"Yeah, i may get a flu soon" You had dissmissed with a smile

Silco blamed himself. For how he have acted, faster or different, for not getting you out of the mines.

"(Y/N)..." Silco started seeing how you were having a hard time just walking the stairs, he had noticed how you also seemed to be slower, a side comment Vander had said on how you almost got caught on a recent work.

"Im fine" You responded back, trying to ignore the pain on your chest.

Once you two made it to the top you took a big long breath.

"You are not fine. I can see it, Vander can see it, everybody can see it" Silco said getting more frustrated by you

"Then all of them are wrong" You declared, letting yourself fall on your couch. Your eyes starting to close.

"You cant even stay awake"

"I have done much work in the mines. Im just tired"

"Then stop, I can help you, i can provide for you!!" Silco almost screamed

"You know I cant leave, what if i need the dam job later? No one will take me in. Every job out there is managed by them, i cant just leave"

"You are killing yourself"

Silco groaned at that, he wanted to go back and beat up his younger self. It was like his words had set off a curse.

Because less than a week from that talk you ended leaving the mines after collapsing and almost causing a fatal mistake.

Silco entered your home. He went to your room were he saw you reading a old book, pages yellow.

"I got you some medicine" Silco started getting it out from a bag well hided.

"Silco stop, these are too expensive!!" You said again even since he had started to get you different ones but no one seemed to work.

"Shut up, just try it" Silco said passing it to you who took it making a face.

"Its terrible"

"Well its not supposed to teast good, its supposed to cure you" Silco responded going to your kitchen to heat up some soup.

When he returned you were deep sleep. He hoped that medicine was doing the trick.

Saddly it did not.

Weeks passed and Silco saw how you became more and more weak. Pale like a ghost, eyes no longer shining but almost out of life.

"Im dying" you said to him one afternoon "Im dying and you cant do anything about it so stop beating yourself"

Even now Silco felt like your words reached him.

"No, i cant let you die" Silco said hands rubbing his hair

"Uh, i can try that thing they are selling now..."

"No" Silco had say "Next thing we need is you getting addicted"

You rolled your eyes but did agree.

The soft rain from outside was like odd music, for a couple that was seeing its end.

"I love you" You said taking his hand "Im happy i got to live my life with you"

If Silco had know these were going to be your last words he would have given you a better response. More than "I love you" and more than false promises.

He had become what you asked him not to, and while he was making on his own way a better life for the city a part of him hated himself. Hated that he had somehow betrayed you.

"Im sorry" He whispered to no one. "Im so sorry (Y/N).

[astro-inthestars]

OH MY GODJHASHDFSAH?!??!?!??!!? WHATT HEBFUCKJKFD\FSA!!!!

GUYSUGYUSYGSUGYS GUYSSS! !!! !LOOK AT THIS GIVE IT MORE ATTENTION IM GONNA START SCREAMIN!G!!!!!

@ferngender @joyflameball @ghost-vessel @brainless-but-thats-all @totallynottogsblog @slymanner @chipistrate @luizastarry @notafamousblog @freemonngo @ultramori @side-of-honey IM SORRY FOR THE PING IM NOT NORMAL

OMORI MUSICAL ALBUM -COMING OUT CHRISTMAS DAY!!!

[bimrwolf]

The Christmas Arrangement (Part 2)

steve harrington x fem!reader words: 10,009 warnings: SMUT SMUT ALERT!!!!!!! 18+ minors dni :P summary: Steve Harrington thought asking his stubborn intern to play his girlfriend for the holidays would be simple. But "pretend" starts to get a little complicated when moments feel a little too real. a/n: sor maybe this will be more than 2 parts.... not betad and a little rusty on my writing still lmaooo i know...no real slow burn but steve and reader got a little impatient im sorry!!! Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You woke slowly, the soft light of morning streaming through the curtains. The warmth of the bed was almost lulling you back to sleep when you noticed it—the weight around your waist.

Your eyes opened fully, and your breath hitched. Steve’s arm was draped over you, his hand resting lightly against your hip. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest at your back, the soft puff of his breath against the nape of your neck.

For a moment, you froze, unsure of what to do. The room was quiet save for the faint creak of the house settling, and it struck you how peaceful Steve looked—his usual tension smoothed away in sleep.

You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. People shifted in their sleep all the time. But as you carefully slid out from under his arm, you couldn’t help the way your heart raced.

When Steve stirred, mumbling something unintelligible, you quickly turned your back, pretending to rummage through your bag. 

“Morning,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. You hated how… adorable his voice sounded in the morning. 

“Morning,” you replied, keeping your tone casual.

He sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair and glancing at the clock on the nightstand. If he noticed the earlier proximity, he didn’t mention it, and you weren’t about to bring it up.

“You sleep okay?” Steve asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Uh, yeah. Like a baby,” you said, pulling out a sweater from your bag.

He watched you carefully and you hated how he made you feel. You didn’t exactly hate that he was watching you. You peeked over your shoulder, and he pretended to yawn. “I’m gonna take a shower.” 

He grunted in reply, standing up, stretching his arms up. You hadn’t really paid attention that he had put on sweatpants and a cotton shirt. It hiked up just a bit, and you felt your cheeks burn from seeing a sliver of his happy trail. Jesus. You hoped the water in the shower was scalding to cleanse you from the thoughts swarming through your mind. 

This was all because of being close to him. It didn’t mean anything. It was like stupid biology that your lady parts were screaming for attention. 

After your shower, you came out and guessed Steve was downstairs because he wasn’t in his room. You were grateful. You had remembered how uncomfortable the bra you were wearing was, and since there was no sign of him, you made the executive decision to change. 

You stripped from your sweater and took off your bra, stuffing it back in the suitcase so you wouldn’t get it out again. You grabbed the one you wore yesterday. As soon as you went to put it on, the door to Steve’s bedroom opened. 

Steve walked in, shirtless, dripping in sweat. “Is the shower free—” Steve stopped dead in his tracks, eyes bulging out of his sockets. He quickly turned around. “Jesus Christ…” His tone was indecipherable. 

You squealed, quickly putting on your bra and sweater. You didn’t even protest that he hadn't knocked. It was his room. He probably didn’t think that you would be half naked in the middle of it. You stood there a moment to collect yourself. 

Your head tilted. Since when has Steve been so… toned? His back muscles glistened. It took everything in you not to step forward and drag your finger down the crease of his back. “Uh… it’s safe. Sorry about that.” 

Steve hesitantly turned around, not looking you in the eye as he scrambled to get into his bathroom. You almost laughed when you heard the click of the lock. 

You were downstairs for forty-five minutes until Steve joined you, still not meeting your gaze. You smirked. You had unintentionally gotten under his skin. The best Christmas gift you have ever gotten. 

“My mom is in town. Tomorrow is this big Christmas auction gala she organizes for the community.” He grabbed a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator. 

“Oh, so we have the entire house to ourselves?” You made sure your tone was suggestive. 

He looked up, already flustered. “Shut up.” 

You smirked. “Oh come on. I didn’t think you’d be so worked up about seeing boobs.” 

“You’re my employee. Of course I’m worked up about seeing your…” he trailed off, taking a sip of his orange juice. “Can we just drop it. I didn’t see much anyway.” 

Your face fell. “Geez. Way to make a girl feel insecure,” you mumbled. 

Steve ran a hand over his face. There was that small unintelligible word that sounded too close to your name which came out of his mouth. “Have you always been this obnoxious? Was I drunk when I hired you?” 

You reached over and patted him gently on the cheek. “I think I was wearing that skirt.” 

He didn’t like that because he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving you alone. 

The Harrington house was quiet after Steve stormed out, save for the ticking of the old grandfather clock in the hallway. You lingered in the kitchen for a moment, replaying the earlier exchange in your mind. 

Something about this morning had felt… different. Maybe it was the intimacy of waking up so close to him, or the way his voice had softened when he said your name under his breath. Either way, the air between you had shifted, and it left you feeling restless.

With no clear destination in mind, you wandered through the house, letting your curiosity guide you. The walls were lined with family photos, some faded and slightly crooked, others newer and perfectly framed. There were a lot of Diane—her vibrant smile unmistakable in every shot. But it was the few photos of Steve that caught your attention.

You looked at the one you saw yesterday. He looked about eighteen, wearing a Hawkins High basketball jersey and holding a trophy with an exaggerated grin. His hair was bigger than you thought humanly possible, curling in wild waves that practically defied gravity. You snorted, biting back a laugh.

The hallway opened up to a dimly lit room, the door slightly ajar. You hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. It was an office—clearly one that hadn’t been used in a while. Dust clung to the edges of the wooden desk, and the faint smell of leather lingered in the air. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and old knickknacks that spoke of someone who had once cared deeply about appearances.

As you walked further in, your eyes landed on the desk. A single picture frame sat on top, the glass slightly smudged. You picked it up, the image of a younger Steve catching your attention immediately. He was maybe eight or nine, sitting on a couch with a man who had to be his father. The resemblance was uncanny—the same sharp jawline, the same hazel eyes. But where Steve’s gaze held an openness, his father’s was piercing, almost cold.

“Figured you’d end up in here.”

You jumped, nearly dropping the photo. Steve stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He wasn’t angry—if anything, he looked resigned, like he’d been expecting this.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, setting the photo back down. “I was just… exploring.”

Steve shrugged, stepping inside. “It’s fine. No one really comes in here anymore.”

You watched him carefully as he moved to the desk, his hand brushing against the edge like he was grounding himself. His eyes flicked to the photo, softening in a way you didn’t expect.

“Your hair used to have its own zip code.” You smiled. 

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh, his lips twitching. “Yeah. Mom called it my ‘fluff phase.’”

You grinned, leaning against the desk. “It’s impressive. I’m surprised you didn’t get recruited for shampoo commercials.”

“Missed my calling,” he muttered. Then he did something strange. He smiled at you. 

You glanced around the room, your curiosity piqued. “Was this your dad’s office?”

Steve nodded, his expression growing more serious. “Yeah. He spent most of his time in here when he was home.”

“When he was home,” you echoed softly.

Steve hesitated, his gaze dropping to the desk. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t say anything more. But then he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Christmas was… one of the few times he actually made an effort,” Steve said, his voice low. “I remember this one year—I think I was, like, ten. I’d gotten sick right before Christmas Eve. Just a cold or something, but I was miserable.”

You stayed quiet, not wanting to interrupt.

“My mom wanted to cancel all our plans,” Steve continued, his jaw tightening slightly. “But my dad wouldn’t hear it. Said the Harringtons didn’t ‘sit out’ Christmas, even for the flu.”

You frowned, your chest tightening at the thought.

“But then,” Steve said, a small, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips, “on Christmas morning, he came into my room. Had this stupid Santa hat on and everything. He brought me hot chocolate, sat on the floor, and just… stayed there with me. We watched movies all day. Mom kept checking in, but he told her not to worry.”

Steve’s smile faded slightly, his gaze distant. “I think that’s the last time I remember him actually being… present. Like he wasn’t thinking about work or his image. Just… me.”

The weight in his voice was palpable, and you found yourself wishing you could say something to take it away. But you knew better than to offer empty platitudes.

“That sounds like a good memory,” you said softly.

Steve nodded, his hand brushing over the edge of the desk again. “Yeah. It was.”

For a moment, the room was quiet, the only sound the faint creak of the house settling. Then Steve straightened, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Anyway,” he said, his tone shifting back to something lighter. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

You arched an eyebrow, folding your arms. “That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not,” he said quickly, though his tone betrayed him. “It’s just… usually today, I go to this Christmas party. My friends host it every year.” 

“And since Robin’s probably already told them about us… it’d be easier if I came.” You said matter of fact. 

He shrugged. “S’okay if you don’t wanna. I know that’s a lot more than you signed up for. And it’s more people we’d have to lie to. But my mom will wonder why you didn’t go and—”

“Okay.” You replied. A small smile fixed on your lips. You weren’t going to tell him that you were going to say yes once he brought it up. Nor were you going to tell him that him stumbling, avoiding your gaze, was cute. You stared at him for a moment. “What time?” 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Seven.”

You looked at the clock. You had plenty of time but you didn’t want to end up going empty handed. 

The kitchen hummed with the soft sound of the oven preheating, the scent of cocoa powder and sugar already wafting in the air as you pulled out the ingredients for brownies. Steve leaned against the counter, watching you with an amused expression, arms crossed. His guardedness had melted somewhat, replaced by a warmth that was… nice. Too nice, if you let yourself think about it for too long.

“So, what’s the plan here?” he asked, nodding to the growing pile of ingredients. “You’re just going to wing it?”

You shot him a look. “Winging it is an art form. You wouldn’t understand.”

Steve snorted, pushing off the counter. “Right. Because following a recipe is such a niche skill.”

You grinned, cracking an egg into the mixing bowl with exaggerated precision. “You’re welcome to help, Mr. Harrington. Or are you going to just stand there and look pretty?”

“Pretty?” he shot back, stepping closer. His eyes sparkled as he grabbed the whisk from your hand.

“I said annoying.” You tried to correct yourself. 

“No, I’m sure you said pretty.” He said in a sing-song tone. 

You looked up at him, gawking at how different the Steve Harrington was standing right next to you to the Steve Harrington you knew twenty-four hours ago. “You misheard.”

“Did I? Then why are you blushing?” He teased. 

“I am not.”

Steve chuckled, nudging you. “Move over. Let a professional show you how it’s done.”

“Professional? When’s the last time you baked anything?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Steve smirked, starting to whisk the eggs and sugar together. “Does it count if I helped Robin make cookies once? By ‘help,’ I mean I ate the dough.”

“That’s what I thought,” you said, nudging him aside with your hip. “Here. Hold the bowl steady.”

Steve did as you asked, holding the mixing bowl while you dumped in the cocoa powder. A small cloud of chocolate puffed up, and you both coughed, laughing.

“Great job, chef,” he teased, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, try aiming for the bowl?”

“Oh, shut up,” you replied, brushing a streak of cocoa off your wrist. “Mix it.” 

You tried not to stare at how his forearms flexed as he mixed the batter. ”You’re not mixing,” you said, stepping closer and pointing at the bowl. “You’re obliterating. Look at it—there’s no love in that batter. You’re supposed to fold it.”

Steve scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Fold it? How do you fold a liquid? That makes no sense.”

“It’s not a liquid,” you countered, sliding next to him. “And if you don’t fold it, the brownies won’t be fluffy. Here, give me the whisk.”

He pulled the bowl closer to his chest like a petulant child. “I’ve got this.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, you don’t. Let me—”

But before he could protest, you grabbed his hands where they gripped the whisk. He froze, the heat of his palms bleeding into yours as you guided him.

“Okay,” you said, ignoring the way your heart did a tiny flip at the closeness. “Watch. Around the edges, and then through the middle. See? Gentle. Like this.”

Steve tilted his head, watching your hands guide his through the motion. “You’re not even doing anything. This is the same thing I was doing.”

“Uh, no,” you said, glaring up at him. “What you were doing was creating batter soup. This is how you fold. It’s all in the wrist. Look—soft, smooth motions.”

He mimicked your movements hesitantly, his frown softening into something closer to concentration. “So… like this?”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “Just don’t overdo it. You want to mix just enough to combine everything without killing the air.”

Steve glanced down at you, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Killing the air? You’re making this sound way more dramatic than it is.”

“Well, if you want good brownies…” you teased, not letting go of his hands.

“I didn’t realize baking came with a lecture,” he shot back, though his voice was quieter now, softer.

You looked up at him, realizing just how close you were. His face was mere inches from yours, and for a moment, you forgot what you were supposed to be doing.

“Got it?” you asked after a beat, your voice barely above a whisper.

Steve cleared his throat, pulling his hands back carefully but keeping his eyes on you. “Yeah. I think I’ve got it.”

You stepped back, letting Steve take over the folding, but your gaze lingered longer than it should have. His hands moved with surprising care now, each motion deliberate, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

The soft light from the kitchen window caught on his hair, a mess of chestnut waves that managed to look both effortless and infuriatingly perfect. His jawline, sharp and dusted with just a hint of stubble, tensed with focus, and his lips—why were you noticing his lips?—were slightly parted, as if he was lost in the rhythm of the task.

He wasn’t just the boss who annoyed you at work or the guy with the quick comebacks and perpetual smug grin. He was… striking, in a way that made it hard to look away. 

The warmth in his hazel eyes when he glanced at you, the easy laugh he’d let out earlier—it all felt disarmingly genuine, and it left you feeling unsteady, like you’d lost your footing on solid ground.

What the hell was wrong with you? This was Steve. The guy who once called you “relentlessly stubborn” after a client meeting and smirked when you’d glared at him. You weren’t supposed to notice how his t-shirt clung to his shoulders or how the veins in his forearms stood out when he gripped the whisk. 

You weren’t supposed to think about how close his hands had felt under yours or how the faint smell of his cologne—something warm, woodsy, and distinctly him—seemed to linger in the air between you.

“Earth to you,” Steve said suddenly, breaking through your spiraling thoughts. He tilted his head, catching your eye with a teasing smirk. “You’re staring. Should I be worried?”

You blinked, heat rushing to your face. “No. I was just—” You gestured vaguely at the batter, your voice coming out higher than you intended. “You’re doing it wrong again.”

Steve raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. He just grinned, the kind that made your stomach do an annoying little flip. “Whatever you say, Chef.” He handed you the bowl back. 

As you poured it into the pan, Steve leaned against the counter again, watching you with a small smile. “You’re not bad at this,” he admitted.

“High praise,” you said, smirking. “From a guy whose contribution has been… holding a bowl.”

Steve stepped closer, picking up a spoon to taste the batter. He dipped it in, taking a bite, and hummed thoughtfully. “Not bad. A little more sugar, though.”

You swatted at his hand as he reached for the sugar jar. “It’s fine the way it is!”

He shrugged, stepping back to give you space, though his grin lingered. As you continued to pour the batter into the pan, Steve stepped forward, brushing past you to grab a towel. “You���ve got something,” he said, gesturing to your face.

“Where?” you asked, trying to wipe at your cheek.

“Here,” Steve said, his voice softer now. He reached out, his thumb brushing just below your lip, and you froze.

Before you could process the moment, he brought his thumb to his mouth, licking off the batter absentmindedly.

Your brain short-circuited.

Steve didn’t seem to notice, turning back to the counter like nothing had happened. He made a distinguished sound that embarrassingly made a spot in your stomach heat up. His eyes rolled back. “This is heavenly,” he said casually, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

You blinked, your pulse racing. “Uh… thanks?”

The moment hung in the air for a beat too long, but neither of you addressed it. Instead, you slid the pan into the oven, your movements more deliberate as you tried to regain your composure.

By the time you arrived at the party, the brownies tucked safely in your arms, the house was already buzzing with life. Warm light spilled from the windows, and you could hear laughter and holiday music drifting through the crisp night air.

Steve opened the door, ushering you inside. You barely had time to take in the garlands, twinkling lights, and festive decorations before a familiar voice called out.

“Harrington!”

Robin appeared, beaming as she made her way over. She grabbed Steve by the shoulders, shaking him lightly. “I knew you’d bring her!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve muttered, but there was no real annoyance in his tone. His hand casually fell on the small of your back. You smiled to yourself, leaning into his touch. 

Robin turned to you, her grin widening. “Glad you came.” 

”Thanks for having me.” You lifted the pan. “We brought brownies”

Robin smiled. “You’re a baker?” 

You opened your mouth to reply, but Steve interjected. “They are probably the best damn brownies I’ve ever had.” 

You rolled your eyes. “He hasn’t even had one yet. All he did was lick the spatula.” 

“Not true. I folded it like you asked.” 

“Barely, it looked like you were auditioning for The Great Destroyer of Brownies.” 

“But they came out perfectly fine. So I must have done something right.” 

It was like you two had even forgotten Robin was there. You were looking at each other. Your faces only inches apart, playing a silent game of whoever smiles first, lost. 

“Geez, get a room you two. I’ll take the brownies before you get freaky.” Robin’s face was twisted like she had eaten something sour. She took the pan from you, walking away into the house.

You thought Steve would take his hand off you, but instead he guided you further inside until you both were at the entrance of the living room. He must have seen how nervous you were at the sight of not only a couple of friends, but more than a handful. His hand moved across your back and rested on your waist. 

“Steve!” Everyone cheered in unison. Their eyes immediately drew to you. 

“I thought Rob was lying,” a petite girl with long brown hair said. “I guess she did. She said you were pretty but that’s an understatement.” She walked closer to you and you recognized her from a picture hanging at Steve’s house. “I’m Nancy.” 

You smiled shyly, introducing yourself to her. She then hugged Steve, and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of jealousy as he held onto her a little longer. She turned back to you. “Do you drink?” 

“Uh… occasionally.” You replied. 

Nancy linked her arm with yours, looking up at Steve with a toothy grin. “‘Scuse me, but I’m going to steal your girlfriend. Make yourself at home.” 

You gave Steve a look you had never given him before. A sad puppy dog face, eyes round, eyelashes fanning as you blinked. Steve’s smirk made your stomach flip as Nancy dragged you into the kitchen. Robin followed. 

They were talking about some person named Jane… and that she was eleven? You weren’t sure. All you picked up was she was in Indianapolis with a boy named Mike and the family was leaving after the auction to spend Christmas there. 

You hugged yourself, feeling overwhelmed. You listened, nodding along to the conversation. Nancy looked over at you, handing you a cold beer with a warm smile, tilting her head slightly as if to include you in their conversation. “Here.” 

You took it with a quiet “Thanks,” gripping the bottle just to have something to do with your hands. The kitchen was alive with conversation, Robin perched on the counter while Nancy leaned against the island. They volleyed stories back and forth, mentioning names you barely recognized—Jonathan, Jane, Hopper. Their shared history was palpable, a comfortable rhythm you weren’t sure how to fit into.

Nancy must’ve noticed, because she turned to you, her smile softening. “So, how long have you and Steve been together?”

You froze, fumbling with the bottle in your hand. The words felt too big in your throat, but before you could even attempt to answer, Robin cut in with a mischievous grin. “Fairly recent.” 

Nancy's eyes widened in surprise. “And he brought you home for Christmas? That wasn’t meant to sound rude. He just hasn’t brought anyone around since…” she trailed off, taking a sip of her drink. 

You bit the inside of your cheek nervously, unsure what to say. 

“Oh, you know Steve,” Robin said, kicking her feet playfully against the cabinets. “When he falls, he falls hard. I give it six months before they’re picking out curtains.”

Nancy laughed lightly, but her gaze stayed on you, curious. “You must be pretty special,” she said.

Special? That wasn’t exactly the word you would’ve used. You managed a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as awkward as you felt. “He’s, uh, full of surprises,” you said, which was at least half true.

Robin snorted into her drink. “Yeah, surprises. Like when he thought putting a bike together meant duct-taping it until it stopped rattling. Romantic and handy.”

You laughed, the tension in your shoulders easing a fraction. Nancy smiled too, and for the first time, the air felt a little less heavy. You took a sip of your beer, the coldness grounding you.

“So,” Nancy said, leaning in conspiratorially, “how did Steve get you to put up with him? He’s charming, sure, but that only gets him so far.”

Before you could think of a response, Robin piped up again. “I’ll tell you how—she’s a saint. That’s the only explanation. And a really good liar.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking between you and Robin. “Liar?”

You opened up your mouth, but Robin interrupted. “That she isn’t totally in love with him.” 

You froze. In love? You barely knew him. “I—“ you couldn’t even disagree. I mean it would sound weird to say you didn’t like him while dating him. The entire lie would be for nothing. Your mouth went dry. 

Your heart stuttered at Robin’s words. The idea seemed absurd at first. You barely knew Steve outside the confines of work—and even then, most of your interactions had been steeped in teasing, bickering, and stolen glances. But the longer you sat with it, the less certain you felt about brushing it off. Because if you were honest with yourself, there had always been something about him—something you didn’t dare acknowledge until now.

You thought back to those late nights in the office, when the hum of the city faded and it was just the two of you, working side by side. How he always remembered the way you took your coffee, even when you changed it up without warning. 

The way he never let you leave without walking you to your car, muttering some excuse about safety as if he wasn’t the one watching over you. Even the way he poked at your stubbornness during meetings wasn’t cruel—it was almost… playful, like he liked seeing you riled up. 

And you remembered how, after every disagreement, he always found a way to smooth things over, slipping a comment or a smirk that left you reluctantly smiling despite yourself.

Maybe you’d been fooling yourself all along. Because in between the quips and banter, in the quiet moments where his guard slipped and you saw the person beneath the bravado, your feelings had crept in, unnoticed but deeply rooted. You’d just been too scared—or too stubborn—to admit it. Maybe you were in love. 

The three of you walked into the living room. Nancy walked over to an empty space between a lanky, short haired boy, and another man who looked strikingly similar to the boy. He smiled at Nancy, putting his arm around her. 

You noticed the ring on his finger and realized hers. You hated to admit the relief you felt that they were married and her and Steve were just good friends. Steve. He sat on a cushioned chair, smiling at you. 

You moved closer to him, handing him a beer you had grabbed before you left the kitchen. He thanked you and when you went to sit on the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you gently into his lap. “This okay?” He asked, low enough in your ear so no one else could hear. He was making sure, remembering the deal. You had final say in all PDA unless absolutely necessary. 

Why did you feel so shy? You nodded bashfully, looking away so he couldn’t see your face heat up. His arm snaked carefully around you, his palm resting on your stomach. It felt normal. But then again, this was exactly how it felt this morning.  

Except now, you felt heat grow in between your legs as he gently pushed you so your back was flushed against his chest. He took a swig of his beer, drunk on smugness. What an asshole. 

You wanted to kiss his smirk off his face. 

And you did. You gently kissed the corner of his mouth, like a whisper. He didn’t push you off. His eyes glimmered and sparked with a sudden firework exploding in his irises. His grip became tighter.

“Oh my god, Steve. You’re down bad.” A chubby, curly haired boy that looked the same age as the one on the couch with Nancy and her husband. 

“Alright man, tell us how you guys met.” A man with a buzzcut said. He was sitting on the ground criss-crossed. “I’m Eddie by the way.” 

You began, “Oh we met at work—”

Steve cut you off mid-sentence, his voice warm and teasing but laced with something that made your chest tighten. “Oh, come on,” he said, his arm shifting slightly around your waist. “That’s way too boring. Let me tell it.”

You glanced up at him, your brows knitting in surprise. His smirk was firmly in place, but there was a softness in his eyes that caught you off guard.

“Alright,” Eddie said, his grin wide as he leaned forward. “Let’s hear it, Harrington. Lay it on thick.”

Steve rolled his eyes but chuckled. “So,” he began, glancing down at you like he was gauging your reaction. “She came storming into the office on her first day, looking like she was ready to fight someone. Hair all windblown, heels clicking loud enough to wake the dead—”

“I was not storming,” you interjected, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You absolutely were,” Steve shot back, grinning. “And then she marched right up to me, handed me a coffee—black, no sugar, just how I like it—and said, ‘If you’re the guy who hired me, then this better be worth it.’”

Robin snorted from across the room, nearly choking on her drink. “She did not.”

“Oh, she did,” Steve said, nodding solemnly. “No ‘hi,’ no ‘nice to meet you,’ just straight to business. And, honestly? I was impressed.”

You felt your cheeks heat as everyone chuckled, their attention fully on Steve. “It wasn’t that dramatic,” you muttered.

Steve’s grin widened, his hazel eyes sparkling as he leaned closer. “It was. And she’s late, by the way. Not just a couple minutes late—fifteen minutes late.”

Nancy snorted from her spot on the couch, and Robin outright cackled from her perch in the corner. Eddie’s eyes were wild like he was watching the most entertaining movie. The other two boys were trying not to laugh. 

Steve ignored them. “Anyway we go to the conference room to begin her new hire orientation. She sits down, doesn’t even bother with the whole ‘sorry I’m late’ excuse. Just looks right at me, raises an eyebrow, and says—” he turned to you now, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “‘Am I in your seat, boss?’”

Laughter rippled through the group, and you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I did not say it like that.”

“Oh, but you did,” Steve shot back, his grin widening. “Like you were challenging me. And you weren’t wrong—you were in my seat. But I let it slide because, well…” He glanced down at you, his tone dropping an octave. “I couldn’t stop staring.”

The air seemed to shift with his words, the playful banter dipping into something deeper, quieter. The teasing smile faded from his lips, and for a moment, the room around you seemed to fade too. It was just Steve, looking at you like he was still that guy in the conference room, seeing you for the first time all over again.

“I didn’t stand a chance,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing small, absentminded circles on your stomach. “From that first day, I was done for. And then, for the next few weeks, she basically ran circles around me—fixing my mistakes, arguing with me over every little thing, making me feel like an idiot in the best possible way.”

“Well,” you said after a beat, your voice quieter. “If it makes you feel any better, I thought you were insufferably arrogant.”

Steve grinned, the warmth in his gaze only intensifying. “Insufferably arrogant, huh? And now?”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t find the words as the room seemed to blur around you. All you could focus on was the way Steve’s thumb had started tracing slow, idle circles against your stomach, his hold on you steady and unshakable.

Eddie groaned dramatically, breaking the spell. “Alright, lovebirds, we get it. You’re disgustingly into each other. Someone pass me a beer before I die from secondhand swooning.”

The room burst into laughter, and you shook your head, trying to ignore the way your cheeks burned. Steve just chuckled, pressing his lips to your temple in a way that felt too natural, too easy.

But as his hold on you tightened and his breath brushed your skin, you realized you weren’t sure you wanted him to let go.

Steve’s smile faltered slightly, though the warmth in his eyes didn’t waver. He hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the beer in his hand, as if weighing whether to continue. You tilted your head, sensing the shift, but he didn’t look at you. Instead, his thumb traced idle patterns along the glass bottle, his voice quieter when he spoke again.

“There’s… another reason I remember that day so clearly,” Steve said, his tone carrying an unexpected weight. The group quieted, their teasing falling away as they noticed his change in demeanor.

“It was…” He cleared his throat, finally meeting your gaze, his expression softer now. “It was the anniversary of when my dad passed.”

Your breath caught, the words settling heavily between you. Steve rarely talked about his dad—you’d picked up that much in the short time you’d spent with his family. And now, hearing it like this, you understood why.

Nancy’s face softened, her eyes flickering with something like recognition. Robin leaned forward slightly, her usual smirk replaced by concern.

“It was one of those days where everything felt… heavy,” Steve continued, his grip on the bottle tightening. “I didn’t even want to come into the office. But I knew if I stayed home, I’d just sit there, thinking about everything I couldn’t change. So I showed up. And then…” He smiled faintly, glancing down at you. “Then she walked in.”

You felt your heart twist, a strange mix of guilt and gratitude welling up inside you. Guilt for not knowing, for not realizing what that day had meant to him. And gratitude, because somehow, you’d been there—not knowing, but there all the same.

“She had this energy,” Steve said, his voice a little steadier now. “Like she didn’t care about anything or anyone, but not in a bad way. It was more like… she had her own gravity, and she didn’t need anyone else to pull her along. And for some reason, that made everything feel… lighter.”

Your cheeks flushed, the vulnerability in his words catching you off guard. You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed quiet, hoping he could feel the silent support in your presence.

“And yeah,” Steve added, his smile turning crooked again, “she spent most of that first week telling me I was wrong about everything.”

The tension in the room eased, laughter bubbling up around you. His gaze flickered back to you briefly. 

There was something unspoken in his eyes, something that made your stomach flip and your heart ache at the same time. 

And for the first time, you wondered if Steve’s words weren’t just about the past. If, maybe, he was talking about now—about how much you’d started to mean to him in ways neither of you were ready to say aloud.

***

Steve had to practically drag you out of Nancy and her husband’s (you learned his name was Jonathan after having to embarrassingly ask for his name. Along with his brother, Will, and their friend Dustin) house. You all talked and they all gave you embarrassing stories of Steve. 

You also learned he had dated Nancy at one point, but when the group told you, he held you a little softer. You tried to ask how they all became friends, but there was something in their tone of voices that let you know it wasn’t time for you to know. Maybe it had to do with the scar on Eddie’s cheek. 

Steve was silent, hands in his pocket as he walked with you to his car. He opened the door for you and you looked over your shoulder. You wanted to play the gesture off that he didn’t want it to be suspicious if they were looking out the window, but they weren’t. The only sound on the way back to his house was the hum of the radio. Steve’s arm rested at his side as his other hand was on the steering wheel. 

You kept looking at his free hand. Dangerous thoughts slipping into your mind as you wonder what it would be like to hold it. Or what it would feel like if he placed it on your thigh. Or if he touched you… good grief, get a hold of yourself. It was all pretend. Everything that you said and did was all fake. 

He pulled up to his house. His mother’s car was still gone. 

You barely had time to blink as he scrambled out of the car, shutting the door, coming to your side. He opened the door slowly, his body leaning against the car as you got out. Your breathing became slow as you felt the heat of his body when he reached to close the door. His eyes burned into you, only on you when he did so. 

You swallowed hard, your pulse thrumming in your ears as Steve stepped back just enough to let you move past him. The heat of his gaze didn’t waver, and for a fleeting second, you thought he might say something—something that would shatter the fragile boundary you’d been clinging to all night.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he turned toward the house, his hand brushing your lower back as he guided you toward the door. The touch was light—barely there—but it lingered, sparking warmth that crawled up your spine and settled somewhere deep in your chest.

“You okay?” Steve asked, his voice low, almost tentative.

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your throat tightened. “Yeah. Just tired.”

Steve didn’t press further. He unlocked the door, holding it open for you as you stepped inside. The house was dark and quiet, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingering from the holiday decorations.

“You want something to drink?” Steve asked, flipping on the light in the kitchen as you wandered toward the living room.

You shook your head, dropping onto the couch and slipping off your shoes. “I’m good, thanks.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment, his hand braced against the frame as he looked at you. The soft glow from the kitchen light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

“You were great tonight,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “With my friends.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “I… thanks. They’re great. And they clearly care about you a lot.”

Steve huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. They’re like family. Dysfunctional as hell, but family.”

There was something unspoken in his words. You opened your mouth to ask, but he pushed off the doorway before you could, walking over to the couch and sinking down beside you.

“They like you,” Steve said, his hand resting on his knee as he leaned back slightly. “I could tell.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Even Dustin? He seemed pretty skeptical.”

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. “Dustin’s skeptical of everyone at first. He’ll come around. Trust me.” 

The way you both were talking… it put an ache in your chest. Why did it matter if they liked you? “I wish I could be real friends with them.”

He tilted his head. “I mean I don’t see why not.” He said it so innocently. 

“Because friends don’t lie,” you answered. 

He snorted, leaning his head back, whispering something about ‘If only you knew.’ His jaw ticked. If he wanted to say something else, he didn’t show it. Instead, he changed the subject. “Nancy said she invited you to get a dress for the auction.”

“Yes. Since someone forgot to mention it.” You elbowed him. 

His mouth twitched but didn’t fully give in to a smile. Silence settled between you, comfortable but charged, the unspoken things hanging in the air like static. Your gaze lingered on the slope of his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped absently against his knee.

“Steve,” you started, your voice hesitant, “about tonight…”

His eyes flicked to yours, something cautious but hopeful sparking in their depths.

“Thanks for bringing me,” you said, your words softer than you intended. 

The air between you felt heavy again, but not in a bad way. It was the kind of heaviness that came with possibilities—with things unsaid but understood.

For a moment, you thought about leaning closer, about closing the small space between you and finding out if his lips felt as warm as they looked.

However, it was like after spending so much time chiseling at the walls he had built, you watched his eyes harden in real time. “Don’t worry, it won’t be unpaid,” he said. 

You furrowed your brows. “That’s not…that’s not why I said it,” you finished, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

Steve didn’t respond immediately. His gaze flicked to the floor, his jaw tight, and you could see the way his fingers curled slightly against his knee, like he was trying to keep something in.

“I know,” he said finally, his tone clipped. “But it’s better if we keep things clear, right? No confusion.”

The words landed heavier than you expected, and the ache in your chest twisted into something sharper. “Clear,” you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning back against the couch and letting out a breath like he’d settled something. 

The sudden shift in his tone felt like a slap, and you couldn’t stop the sting that settled in your chest. “Steve—”

“It’s late,” he interrupted, his voice clipped. “You should get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

You stared at him, unsure how to respond. The vulnerability you thought you’d seen earlier—the warmth, the openness—was gone, replaced by a wall so impenetrable it was suffocating.

But you didn’t want to fight. Not when you were both exhausted and treading on thin ice. So you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stood up. “Goodnight, Steve.”

He didn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on some point across the room. “Night.”

The word was distant, almost hollow, and it lingered in the air as you made your way upstairs.

When you reached his room—the room—you closed the door softly behind you, leaning against it for a moment. Your mind swirled with everything that had been said—and unsaid—and the ache in your chest only deepened.

Why did it bother you so much? You’d known from the beginning this was a transaction, a temporary arrangement to get through the holidays. But the way he’d shut down tonight, as if the moments you’d shared earlier didn’t matter, made you question everything.

Steve followed in shortly. You noticed the way he looked at the bed and even glanced at you briefly, sighing. 

You didn’t want to fight. You really didn’t. “This is bullshit.” 

He was grabbing his sleep clothes. He turned around to look at you. His face was stony and emotionless. 

“You cannot just shut me out like that, Steve Harrington. You said you liked it when I put you in your place, and unless that was all a lie, I’m going to do just that.” You crossed your arms across your chest. 

Steve’s eyebrows shot up at your outburst, the sharp edge of his posture shifting into something more defensive. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low but steady, like he was trying to keep himself from snapping.

You stepped forward, refusing to let the heat in your chest falter. “I’m talking about you shutting me out every time I try to get close to you. Every time I try to show you that this—this thing—isn’t just about pretending for your mom or your friends or whatever. You’re the one who’s making this harder than it needs to be.”

Steve scoffed, tossing his clothes onto the bed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Oh, I don’t?” you shot back, stepping even closer, your arms still crossed tightly. “Then enlighten me, Steve. Explain why you go from being… whatever we were earlier tonight to acting like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Because it’s not real!” Steve snapped, finally meeting your eyes. The frustration in his voice was palpable, and the tension in the room thickened. “This whole thing—it’s fake, remember? You said it yourself, it’s all built on a lie. And it’s better if we keep it that way. If we don’t confuse what’s real and what isn’t.”

His words stung, but you didn’t back down. “So what?” you asked, your voice rising. “Everything we did tonight, everything you said—none of it meant anything to you?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying, Steve?” you demanded, your voice breaking just slightly. “Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re running away from whatever this is before it even has a chance to mean something.”

Steve let out a sharp breath, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I’m not running,” he said, though the crack in his voice betrayed him. “I’m just trying to protect us from making a mistake, okay? From thinking this is something it’s not.”

“And what if it is something?” you countered, your voice softer now but no less firm. “What if this isn’t a mistake, Steve? What if you just stop shutting me out long enough to see that?”

The words hung in the air, a challenge, a plea. Steve stared at you, his hazel eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite read—anger, confusion, longing.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered.

“And you’re a coward,” you replied, your tone sharp despite the ache in your chest.

Something in him snapped. He closed the distance between you in two quick steps, his hands gripping your face as he kissed you, hard and desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for too long.

Your breath hitched, and for a split second, your body froze in shock. But then your hands found his chest, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed him back just as fiercely.

It wasn’t soft or gentle—it was a collision of all the things left unsaid, all the tension and frustration and longing that had been building between you. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

Your fingers slowly intertwined in his hair, tugging lightly, moaning when you heard a soft groan from the back of his throat. You hated to admit the amount of times you’ve wanted to play with his hair. 

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making them part so he could slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands started to roam, squeezing your ass. 

You broke first, as if you were gasping for oxygen. But Steve didn’t stop. His mouth fell to your jaw, trailing kisses to your neck. It was like he already knew where the spot was on your throat that would make your knees weak. You grasped his hair tighter. 

“If you do that again, I might not make it to the bed.” He growled against your ear. 

“The bed? That’s presumptuous, Mr. Harrington.” 

If he wasn’t hard already, he was now. You whined as you felt his pants bulge against your stomach. You nearly choked out a laugh. “No shit. This whole time—”

He kissed you. “Shut up.”

You pushed him slightly away, his lips tried to chase after yours. You began to gently push him backward, leading him to his bed. “No wonder why you hate me calling you that. You’ve been getting turned on.” 

He sat at the edge of the bed, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs. “That’s presumptuous,” he mimicked you. His hands playing with the hem of your shirt, his eyes asking for permission. You lifted your arms, allowing him to take your sweater off. His mouth immediately fell on your chest. 

“I’ve been thinking about these two all day,” Steve admitted. His fingers threatened to unclasp your bra, but didn’t. Instead, he brought you down for another kiss. “Christ, I think about them all the time. But this morning, I couldn’t stop picturing you standing in the middle of my room with no shirt on. I felt like a fuckin’ teenager again.” 

You giggled against his mouth. “You did take an awfully long time showering.” 

He blushed. That was enough to tell you that your assumptions were correct. You crawled into his lap, bucking a little to feel him against your core. “Besides this morning, when was the last time you’ve thought about me?” 

You helped him strip off his shirt. 

He didn’t answer. His hands all over you again, soaking you up. “The other day when I kicked you out of my office.”

You put your hands on his shoulders, looking at him. You had imagined he had been on the other side of the door actually debating about firing you. You had even skimmed the “Help Wanted” section in the newspaper. You smiled at him, kissing him all over. On his mouth, cheek, and neck. Your hands splayed over his chest. 

“So, you do stare at me when I wear the skirt.” It wasn’t a question and he knew it. 

He rolled his eyes. “I told you. I do not stare.” His fingers finally unclasped the bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. “I look for an appropriate amount of time.” 

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate for the boss to be looking at all.” You batted your eyes at him innocently. 

His hands ran down your arms, sending a chill down your spine. “Oh, so now you’re concerned about professionalism? Convenient timing.” You would think that would make him upset but instead he continued to slip your bra all the way off.

He palmed your breasts gently before sliding a hand up to your throat, moving it to the back of your neck so he could gently tug your hair. You bit your lip as his mouth found that spot again, massaging your breast at the same time. 

Your nails dug into his shoulders. “There’s no telling how long you’ve been mentally undressing me. Your sweet and innocent intern.” 

“You’re kidding, right? Sweet and innocent my ass—“

“You talk too much,” you smirked mischievously. 

You yelped, giggling as he picked you up and tossed you on the bed. He parted your legs with his knee. And you nearly cried as it barely touched you. His fingers started to unbutton your pants. You never knew eyes could get so dark as he hovered above you. “You’ve been driving me crazy since I’ve met you,” he mumbled. “If you have any concerns, I can stop.”

“I wouldn’t want to ruin you living out your fantasy.” You arched so he could slip your pants off. 

He kissed your stomach, planting small kisses to the hem of your underwear. “I only said, I think about you. You’re making me sound like a freak.” 

You smirked, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze. "Oh, I don’t know, Steve. Spending all that time in your office, staring at me, imagining this moment? Sounds a little freaky to me."

He rolled his eyes, trailing another kiss along your hip bone. “Again, I never said anything about imagining. All I said was I think about you. That’s different.” 

“Different how? Enlighten me, Mr. Harrington.” You teased, brushing his hair back. 

“Well, for one, I’m very respectful in my thinking.” Steve chuckled, low and rough, his hands skimming down your thighs as he tugged at your underwear. "If I’m the freak, what does that make you? You’re the one letting your ‘boss’ take you apart like this."

You laughed, taking a deep breath once he pulled the cotton off of you. You tried to squeeze your legs together, but Steve pushed your knees apart, leaning back, taking you all in. His eyes scanned you, like he was trying to memorize every square inch of you. He seemed to love touching you because his palm started at your shoulder, slowly caressing it down, rubbing circles on your stomach with a finger. “None of this seems respectful, Mr. Harrington.”

A breath was caught in the back of your throat. His thumb found your sensitive area between your legs. Your back arched as he slowly rubbed it. You were embarrassingly already coming unglued. “You sure are complaining a lot about how I think about you.” 

You closed your eyes, moaning as one of his fingers entered inside you. “I’m not… complaining… Jesus…” You grabbed a fistful of his hair as his tongue made contact with your sensitive spot, curling his finger at the same time. “M’only… stating facts.” 

He lifted his head, and oh my god, you could burst right then and there. His lips were wet and swollen. His eyes were hazy, like he was drunk off of you. “Facts? I have one for you. I think about the way you argue with me during meetings. The way you glare at me like you’re seconds away from strangling me.”

“Sounds sexy,” you replied sarcastically, frowning. You had no idea where he was going. 

He nodded. “It is. Especially when you get that little wrinkle between your brows. Drives me crazy.”

“Oh my god, you’re a dork.” 

“Maybe. But you’re the one under me, letting me do whatever I want,” he shot back, his voice low and teasing as his finger curled, making you gasp. “So what does that say about you?” 

You smirked, gripping hair again when his lips brushed your inner thigh. “It says I make terrible decisions.” 

“Terrible?” His head shot up, eyes narrowed. “I’ll remember that the next time you attempt to proposition me.” 

“Next time?” 

He snuck another finger in. You bit your lip out of protest. “Confident, are we,” you asked, voice tight. 

“Call it intuition,” he hummed. 

“I call it arrogance,” you quipped. He went back down, his mouth back on your swollen heat, fingers pumping in and out of you. His other hand gripped your waist, holding you steady as you arched your back, thighs pressing on the side of his face. You cried out short whimpers. 

Then he completely stopped. 

His fingers and mouth were gone. It was so sudden you believed you had imagined it all. You propped yourself with your elbows, your breath still erratic. He looked at you with his stupid smug smirk. “Still have energy to complain?” 

Steve Harrington had finally cracked how to make you speechless. You didn’t have any remark. Your mind spun, trying to grasp for a shred of your usual wit, but it was as if he’d stolen the words straight from your mouth. Steve Harrington had done what you thought was impossible—rendered you completely and utterly speechless.

The air between you felt electric, charged with the weight of what just happened, of what he had made you feel. Your heart raced, your body still buzzing from his touch, and all you could do was stare at him, at that insufferable, cocky grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face.

You hated how much you loved it.

He looked so infuriatingly pleased with himself, like he had won some unspoken game between you two—and maybe he had. For the first time, you weren’t the one in control, and the realization was both maddening and exhilarating.

What made it worse was that he knew it. He knew exactly what he’d done to you, and the way his hazel eyes gleamed with satisfaction only made your stomach twist in the most frustratingly delicious way.

“Now who is mentally undressing the other?” He began to unzip his jeans. Slowly and tauntingly. There was no hurry as he climbed out of them, tossing them to the side. You sat up, reaching out. Your fingers hooked the waistband of his boxer briefs, dragging it down. 

He sprung out, making you let out a large breath. He was going to kill you, you thought. Once his underwear was to the side, he pushed you back on the bed, climbing on top of you. “Do you not need me to…” you trailed off. 

He shook his head. “I think we’ve had a year long worth of foreplay. I need you. And I need you now.” Honestly, he was right. He could speak to you and you think you’d break. His expression softened, and his hand cradled your face. “This okay?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” you whispered. 

He kissed you softly. 

After adjusting, Steve slid into you. His face melted into a pool, his groan intertwining with your shaky exhale.

His hips rolled slowly, getting used to you and how you felt around him. He had to keep pushing your legs as they instinctively wanted to close around him. 

It was warm and electric as the thrusts became more intense. Your nails dug into his shoulders, chests flush against one another. His hot wavering grunts stuck to your neck. He nipped and kissed your collarbone. 

It was like you were a different person the moment he entered you. “You feel so good,” you purred, dragging your teeth against his earlobe. 

It became more erratic. It was sexy as the sounds of flesh coming together blended with the dirty breaths of air escaping each other’s lips. “Everything about you is perfect,” Steve whispered. 

He pressed his palm just right at the bottom of your stomach. You felt a tear roll down your face as the electricity inside you pulsed. “Steve…” It was like a champagne bottle opened inside you, fizzing all over the place. 

“Christ, sweetheart…” he groaned, his thrusts getting sloppy. You could feel him twitch even as you came down from your high. He let out a sound that could only be made from the back of his throat and let go. 

He laid on top of you, placing soft kisses on your jaw. 

All of it felt unbelievable. Your mind was a haze. It was like a whirlpool of sensation and disbelief. Your body still trembled from the aftershocks of what had just happened. 

How had this happened? How had you gone from presumably hating each other to this

—his body on yours, his lips tracing soft, reverent kisses along your jaw like you were the most precious thing in the world?

The way he had spoken to you, his voice rough with need and unfiltered affection, played on a loop in your head. Everything about you is perfect. You could still feel the heat in his words, the way they'd wrapped around your heart and squeezed it, as if he'd been holding them back for far too long.

You hadn't expected this-any of it.

Not the intensity of his touch, not the way he unraveled you so completely, not the way he made you feel seen. 

And yet, the tender weight of his body, the way his breath brushed your skin as he whispered your name like a prayer, made it impossible to deny. Maybe you weren't just pretending anymore.

Maybe you never had been.

[bonchobrick]

Dead on Main au where Jason is of course Danny’s Fright Knight and like all knights do he has a weapon—except it’s his gun.

The batfam + justice league + everyone (except ghosts duh) don’t know that his normal average everyday gun is actually like a super powerful spiritual soul shooter that is, yaknow, capable of blasting someone into an alternate dimension where their greatest fears become real.

So imagine there’s like a big battle where a ghastly ghoul reigns terror on Gotham. The world sends their best hero’s—wizards and occultists are notably high highest in demand—to stop the ghost but, nothing works. All of the weapons and spells and chants fail.

But,

As the fights worsens and the heros scream for people to flee suddenly--

Loud squeaking footsteps echo across the ground. Jason yawns strolling into the battle zone in a ghostbusters t-shirt plaid pants bunny slippers--he strolls up in pajamas--as if annoyed at being woken up and cocks his fucking normal 'i could buy you at walmart' gun at the ghost.

His brothers screech at him yelling ”Are you insane” and to "get the hell out of here" in fear and panic because their idiot brother is trying to kill a real life ghost with a damn gun.

But then Jason shoots the ghost and it works.

The ghost fizzles down with a cry into just a little blob.

The young man then spends 30 minutes lecturing the spirit saying things like “you’re glad I’m not calling the big guy” and “you know our highness would not be happy learning what you’ve been doing” before taking out a thermos of all things and sucking the ghost into it.

Jason then sighs and walks away as if he hadn’t just defeated a hell raising ghost with a gun people can buy off a corner pawn store and a soup container.

Immediately the bat family swarms him with questions

Dick grabs him by his shoulders tense with worry, “Are you okay?”

“Um yeah—“ Jason tries to reply squirming in his hold

Damian cuts him off, “How the hell did your gun a physical weapon hurt that ghastly demonic spirit!”

“Uh that ghost is actually pretty chill you guys just pissed him off." Jason replies plain

They stare at him with a look saying 'you did not call a ghost that has been decimating gotham chill' probably because he did just that.

Tim is the first to break out of the disbelief stupor as he very inteligently says, "What?"

Jason responds easily with a confused quirk in his brow, "Second, my gun affects entities of all sorts, perks to my job and all that."

"How did being a vigilante and also probably crime boss give you a gun that could do that?" Dick asks

Jason sends him a look saying "are you an idiot" as he replies, "Yea, sure, kicking petty thieves and druggies got me my all powerful spirit weapon--No you dumbass, it's from being the bodyguard of the King of the Infinite Realms! How the hell did you guys not think of that!”

Tim breathes in, then breathes out, then breathes in again and screams, "Why the HELL WOULD WE THINK OF THAT JAY?!"

"The--" Batman, suddenly beside them, chokes, "Bodyguard of T-the what."

Jason blinks at his family then his eyes widen, "Oh shit."

"What?!" His family screech in panic

"Oh fuck," Jason says with a growing hysteric smile, "Danny's gonna have a big ol' fucking laugh with this."

"Brother who is Danny!" Damian demands for an answer

Jason coughs into his palm, "Oh yeah you guys really dont dont know. So I may have forgotten to explain some... things."

Bruce levels him with a stare that says "you think?"

Jason chuckles nervously, "So y'know how I'm half dead?"

pause

Damian very eloquently responds for the suddenly dying screaming combusting members of his family, "...sure."

"Well I met the King of the afterlife which is like the Ruler of Everything and he was really cute--" Jason says distant in his own world

"Theres a afterlife?" Superman asks casually appearing beside the emotionally wrecked family

"Yea its pretty cool. So I start flirting a bit with the guy and we hit it off, I now im his zombie ghost knight boyfriend lover for all time. Oh and i got this sickass gun." Jason says with a happy grin

"That is a pretty sick gun." John Constantine nods

"I know right?" Jason chirps

"You wouldn't mind if I inspected--" John reaches his hand

Jason slaps it away, "Not a chance you soul whore. Y'know your basically the tax evasionist of the Ghost Zone right?"

John only sighs and leaves

"But yea so I'm like the ghost world equivalent to married with the king and became his knight and thats how I was able to stop that ghost guy." Jason reiterates as if explaining a simple question, "Y'guys get that?"

Tim is on the ground trying to decide whether; sobbing hysterically, interogating jason to find out all the things he doesn't want to know or sleeping would be a better use of his time.

Dick has decided to blame himself and has started to draft a reddit post in the middle of the street starting with "I (23 m) have a younger brother (19 m), who I used to resent but really regret now, he died and came back and doesn't even tell me about what goes on in his life anymore. How do I fix our--"

Damian is just staring at the gun and... Jason pushes it deeper in his holster and shifts to the side, better to be safe than sorry with this thieving shit.

As Jason adjusts his weaponry he hears Bruce sob in the background, "He didn't even invite me to the wedding! Am I that horrible of a father!"

Wonder Woman pats his shoulder reasuringly whilst the rest of the League seem to be trying to calm him down

Jason looks around tiredly at the mess he had created and decides fuck it

"Alright I'm heading out for the night, you guys get home safe!" He yells and without caring to listen to anyone and everyone voicing their confusion he zips open a green portal and stumbles in

He crashes down on an unbelievably comfortable bed

Danny blinks blearily before sending the young man a sleepy smile, "Hey Jay, what kept you up so long?"

Jason slipping under the blankets with a yawn says, "You would not believe the night I just had."

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

Edit: UMM HII The fic is out now here!! you guys are awesome I'll post the new chapter 2 in a hot sec after editting ^^