#that phrase had kinda been stuck in my head while I was working on this page

[tapeworm-loser]

I finished this sketchbook book last night!!

[skufdaddyswansea]

Okay, I have a few more scattered thoughts in regards to Curly that either didnt fit or I just think are kinda weaker points. (and also there were a couple things i had to go back and get more screenshots for. ...again....)

Also I feel like I should add a disclaimer: I feel like I'm starting to sound like Curly's #1 Hater but I'm really not. I like him a lot! I honestly like all the characters, even if it's in.... different ways. Sometimes you like a character because they're likeable and fun, sometimes you like a character because they're interesting and deep.

(And sometimes you like a character because you want to put them in the microwave.)

Moving on.

At some point this scene really got stuck in my head. It seems pretty innocuous at first, but it actually says a lot.

Technically Daisuke is the one who screwed up here, but the fact that he was even able to mess with the vent long enough to set off the foam is on Swansea. This is his area, Daisuke's his intern (like it or not), he needs to be keeping an eye on him.

Curly can see that! And firmly but respectfully bring attention to it! He can in fact be a good leader, when he chooses to be.

So it's also interesting that this scene is followed by Jimmy's psych eval. While dealing with Jimmy so Anya doesn't have to may have been a good move, his method subtly enables Jimmy's dismissal of Anya and her work's value.

Now I want to pivot and talk about the code scanner a bit.

During Curly sections, it's always in our inventory, and as Jimmy we pick it up in the cockpit where he's... extracted from, so I feel like it's safe to say that Curly is usually carrying it on his person.

And yet.

This is another one of those things that doesnt really seem like a big deal. The Pony Express is pretty buckwild about the kinds of shit it keeps locked up with the code scanner.

But there is one glaring problem here.

Granted, this one is more of a stretch. I can't say confidently that anyone else on the crew had easy access to the code scanner. In fact, given their annoyance with everything being locked up I'd say it's pretty unlikely. It's just something that's been buzzing around in my head, but after writing it out it feels pretty weak.

But it does feel worth mentioning that if anyone other than Curly would have access to both the code scanner and the Pony Express Protection Kit (TM), it would have been Jimmy. Not to mention that if anything were to, say, incapacitate Curly, Jimmy takes over and gains control of the code scanner. Which is exactly what Anya was afraid of.

And he is pretty quick to grab it, isn't he.

Which leads me to my next point.

I touched on this a bit in my last post, but I want to elaborate on this exchange specifically. I think it's pretty revealing.

At this point, Curly thinks Anya is suicidal. He tells her she could have come to him. That he would have done anything to help her. That he should have considered that she doesn't undergo the psych evaluations, he should have thought of that, so that way he could have known.

But he did know. She told him.

Even still, when he saw Anya in this state, the only reason he could imagine for her distress was the company going under.

As long as Anya kept quiet and carried on as normal, he really didn't think it was that big of a deal.

You can see this again when he finally talks to Jimmy about it. It's simply a "difficult situation." But nothing they can't get through together.

Not to mention, Curly twice glosses over Anya's fear that Jimmy will try to kill her. Her second attempt to communicate this is followed quickly by the scene in which Jimmy attempts to kill the entire crew.

Okay, one last thing I want to touch on here. It's about the way Curly (and by extension Jimmy) use the phrase, "We can fix this." And its variations. Again, I brought it up pretty briefly before, but there's always more to say about it.

Now, Jimmy uses this phrase (or more frequently, "I can fix this.") to an almost comical degree ("Almost the entire crew is dead, but I'm going to fix this. With my gun! :)"). But they both use it it in pretty much the same way.

For others, it's an empty promise. "I'm on your side." "I'm looking out for you." "I'll protect you."

For themselves, it's a denial of reality, a self-soothing mantra they use to desperately clutch at the reins of a situation that has long since spiralled out of their control. Everything will be back to normal soon. I just have to fix it.

thanks KC Green

[galexystern]

easy - 18+

pairing; actor!steve harrington/fem!reader

warnings; smut (MDNI), angst, tooth-rotting & v cheesy fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, jealousy, kinda hurt/comfort, one use of y/n near the end

word count; ~4.3k

desc; while on a press tour for his latest movie, steve says something that sends you into a spiral. something that forces him prove his undying love for you when he gets home.

a/n; based off that interview of tom blyth and rachel zegler on the tbosas press tour. you know the one

read on ao3 / masterlist

You come upon it without trying. Dating an actor can be hard, watching them experience whole lifetimes and romances in a tight two-hour movie or eight-episode show, and your boyfriend Steve Harrington feels things deeper than others, you know. Thus why you never search the press Steve does for any project—you don’t need to hear it.

Of course, if something pops up on your feed, you’ll watch it. It’s impossible to swipe away from his lovely face; you’ve missed him so much as he’s worked on his latest movie, and any whiff of him is captivating. Which is how you see one specific interview he did with his co-star, Nancy Wheeler, the female love interest.

“Who wouldn’t love her? It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

As soon as you hear it, the words embed themselves. They echo within you all the time. You try to forget them, distract yourself, but it’s useless. You’d hoped they’d go away when Steve comes home, but they’re still there, bouncing around your brain like the world’s most annoying song. When he’s hugging you so tight you can barely breathe. When he’s smiling uncontrollably at being home. When he’s talking nonstop about his adventures on set.

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

You shake your head to get rid of the phrase, and take Steve into the dining room, where the table is ready with all his favorite foods. You’d prepared them in another attempt to quiet your mind, not that it had worked, but it makes him smile so it was worth it anyway. You sit him down and then slide into your seat across from him, watching as he dishes out onto his plate and digs in. You don’t touch it. You’re not hungry.

“And then, believe it or not, I slip on the goddamn banana peel. Can you believe that?” He laughs at his own bad luck. “They used that take for the final cut. Can’t wait for you to see it.” He’s been talking about taking you to the premiere since the date was set. The idea of being in front of reporters and cameras and the movie’s other stars is kind of nauseating.

That’s when you hear yourself blurting out, “Are you in love with Nancy?”

As soon as the words have left your lips you want to suck them back in. Your boyfriend’s eyes have widened astronomically and his hand is frozen, fork stuck halfway between the plate and his open mouth. Convenient, you think helplessly.

“Never mind,” you rush out before he can say anything, “forget it. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks a couple times, seeming to come back into his body, and then carefully lays his fork down, bite of food unconsumed. He laughs awkwardly, and you cringe. Your fault for ruining the mood. “Can’t really forget that, can I?” He half-jokes before wiping his face with a napkin and then putting it on the table. His chair scoots back as he stands, and for a moment you’re terrified he’s going to walk out, insulted beyond belief that you would ask something so wild, but he just rounds the table to your side and sits in the seat next to you. He angles his body towards you, and maneuvers your chair to face him. You sit there like dead weight.

“Now, my love,” he starts gently, “what was your question?”

You don’t really want to repeat it, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything. “I asked if you were in love with Nancy,” you answer, almost inaudible.

He nods thoughtfully. “And why would you think that?”

He’s not being accusatory, but you still clam up, afraid of what could come next. You shrug instead.

“Angel, I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”

You meet his gaze, seeing love and sincerity shining brightly, and finally explain quietly, “I saw that interview you two had. Where you said that it was easy to fall in love with her.”

Steve exhales heavily. “I was afraid that might be it.” Your expression sharpens and he rushes to add, “I’m not in love with her. I was just worried this exact thing could happen after I said it.”

“Why’d you say it then?” You ask petulantly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was thinking more in terms of my character instead of myself, truthfully. And I meant more in terms of her character too. Ryan would—and did—find it easy to fall in love with Sarah,” using their character names.

“But you said Nancy’s name.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. You don’t usually look at my press so I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it, and I didn’t wanna bring it up and worry you. I know it sounds like an excuse, sweetheart, but I meant what I said. I’m not in love with Nancy.”

“Okay,” you reply, not fully convinced.

Steve can tell. “Baby, look at me, please?” You lift your head to meet his pleading stare. “I’m not in love with Nancy,” he says firmly, drilling it into you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I’m going to stay in love with you for a long time. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Again, words fly out before you can stop them. “Please don’t tell me that’s a proposal.”

He’s caught by an unexpected laugh. “No, honey. When I propose to you, you’ll know it.” A thrill runs through you with the use of “when” and your lip quirks up. But it’s quick to pop back down, and Steve notices. He pats his thighs. “Come here, angel.”

It takes a few seconds, but you eventually drag yourself from your chair and into his lap, letting your legs dangle and wrapping your arms around his neck. He secures his own around your waist, not letting you fall or slide backwards. You’re close enough that he can nuzzle his nose against yours, and you huff a giggle at the movement. His lips curl into a smile on your cheek.

He moves so that your foreheads are resting together and he can gaze deep into your eyes. You can’t look away. “I love you, baby. Only you. And you can always come to me if you’re upset or unsure or whatever. Okay?” You nod hesitantly. “Do you need me to prove it? That you’re the one for me?” You go breathless when his hands dip down to your ass and press you more firmly against him, feeling his hardness and making your underwear go wet in response. You nod more quickly this time and he smirks.

“C’mere then,” he whispers and you waste no time meeting his lips with yours. He kisses you, slow and languorous, taking his sweet time swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth and exploring inside when you eagerly open for him. It’s like a dance, how it weaves with yours. This isn’t a time for domination.

You slide your hands into his hair and tug at the strands, swallowing his resulting moan. He seems to know innately when you need air and pulls away, only to come back and run his mouth along your jaw sweetly.

“Such pretty noises,” he murmurs, referring to the little whimpers you let out when he nips lightly at your skin. “Music to my ears, baby.”

If that’s the case, then you can only think he has to be delighted at your whiny moan when he sucks a mark into the pulse point on your neck. Sure enough, he thrusts into you at the sound, hitting your clit perfectly and soaking you further. You want to keep the friction going so you continue the grinding, Steve’s hands fully clutching your hips now to help you along.

Unexpectedly, he stands, bringing you with him. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist desperately, not really believing he would drop you but feeling a tad scared anyways. He chuckles as he walks the both of you out of the dining room and up the stairs, nudging the bedroom door open with your hips. It’s dark, but the moon is shining in through the open window, creating a soft glow that compliments your boyfriend’s skin and shadows that outline his firm jaw. He sets you down slowly, letting your feet drag down until they softly land on the floor, and once you’re standing securely, he slides his hands up your body until they’re cupping your cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, and you heat at the praise. He must be able to feel it, burning underneath your skin, but he doesn’t point it out.

He dips in and kisses you again, hands going to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, over your head, interrupting the kiss for just a moment and then he’s back on you. His fingers explore the newly revealed skin, caressing it reverently, like you’re made of the most precious substance and might break if he presses too hard. Shivers fizzle wherever his touch goes—across your stomach, over your hips, up your back. He finds your bra strap and unhooks it, moving back a touch so he can pull it off along with his own shirt. He comes back immediately, and you gasp into his mouth as your breasts make contact with his chest hair, the wiry feeling of it rubbing against your nipples deliciously.

You break from his intoxicating mouth to whine his name. “Sh,” he soothes, “let me worship you. My angel from heaven.”

Your heart practically melts at the words and all thoughts of pouting disappear. You let Steve push you backwards and sit you on the edge of the bed. He stands above you, two fingers under your chin to angle your head up towards his. It’s almost impossible to look directly at him, the level of love and adoration in his expression blinding in its intensity.

“Love of my life. Can I taste you?” You nod dazedly at his question, unable to do anything else, unwilling to do anything else. “Lay back for me.”

Following orders, you do so, and he slips off your pants. His fingers stroke down your legs as they go, tugging off your socks as well. He kneels and you prop up on your elbows just in time to watch him bury his face between your legs, smelling you through your underwear. They’re already soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind: he laps at the wet spot and moans. “Missed this so much, baby. Your taste, your smell. Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this the whole time I was gone.”

His fingers hook into the waistband and drag it down, infuriatingly slow, and you’re thinking of whining again when he licks a line up your slit. The intended whine comes out as a moan instead, spurring Steve on to press into you even deeper. You lose yourself in his ministrations, as he swirls his tongue across your folds and up to your clit. When he sucks it into his mouth, you collapse backwards, unable to hold yourself up any longer during this beautiful torture.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, hand drawing in and rubbing a finger against your entrance. “Let yourself feel it. Feel how much I missed you. How much I love you.”

Your eyes roll back when that finger breaches you, pushing inside and crooking upwards to catch that spot he always knows how to find. “Oh,” you breathe, “finally.”

His lips quirk up and you can tell he must be smirking. “Finally, huh?” You shake your head; he’d misunderstood. “What then, honey?”

“Couldn’t do it right myself,” you pant. “You do it—” your breath hitches as he brushes that spot again, “better.”

“Is that right?” As much as it irritates you, his smug tone is deserved.

“Yes…oh!” You exclaim. He’s inserted another finger, and now both are thrusting inside you, picking up their pace. Little noises fall from you as his tongue flicks your clit in time with his fingers, going deeper with each hit.

“Is my pretty baby going to cum for me?” Steve asks. It’s rhetorical—he can feel you clenching around him, can tell you’re right there on the edge. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he took his time memorizing everything that makes you tick and that knowledge is always tucked away for safekeeping in his head. He’s not in danger of forgetting any of it. So he knows you’re on the precipice. A few more seconds should do it. “Come on,” he urges. “Cum for me, my love. I’ve got you.”

As he suckles your clit, you explode, climax rushing through you like a drug and you float upon it. Your boyfriend works you through it, continuing to curl his fingers inside you to keep you going even higher. All until you’re whimpering from overstimulation—then you think he’s going to remove them. Instead, they increase in speed. You yelp as his mouth dives in again, tongue moving quickly.

“Steve!” You half-shout, eyes squeezing shut as the brilliant torment goes on.

“I know you’ve got another for me, princess,” he says in between licks. “Been wanting to make you squirt again. Got off to the memory of the last time you did every night I was away from you.”

“I can’t,” you cry. You grab his wrist but don’t move it, feeling the orgasm he wants hurtling towards you.

“You can, baby, I know it,” he coaxes. “Gimme another. Just one more and then you get my cock, okay?”

You throw your head back as liquid gushes from you, all over Steve’s face. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” He moves his hand away and sticks his tongue in, gathering up all your climax and swallowing it down, moaning at the taste he’d missed so much. When you’re squeaky clean, he stands above you, and you watch with hazy vision as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and groans in pleasure. “Always taste so good, princess.” You’re so fucked out already that you can’t even feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

You weakly lift your hands towards him and make grabby motions. He smiles and does as asked, leaning to hover over you and give you sweet kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist and tug him down, and he collapses on top of you in a huff. You hum contentedly and snuggle into him, making him chuckle fondly and lay on you like a weighted blanket.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, “so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I said that stupid thing and got you all worried.”

“‘S okay. I know what you meant once you explained. You’ve always been almost a method actor.”

“Maybe, but full method acting is freaky and I’m good without.”

You giggle. “Me too.”

He shifts and you feel his cock on your leg, still hard and without relief. You subtly lift your thigh to rub it and he moans, dropping his head to your shoulder and biting lightly. “Aren’t I supposed to get that now?” You tease. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“And now you want in return?” His tone barely contains the smirk he’s definitely sporting. He lifts himself up to look at you and groans a little at your pleading pout.

“I’ll even wet it for you,” you add while batting your eyelashes. Truthfully, your mouth has been watering ever since he’d first mentioned it.

He kisses you deeply. “An enticing offer that I will take you up on next time, baby. I think I might die if I’m not inside you immediately.” You giggle again as he stands and shucks off his pants and boxers, the sound hitching when his large, red, throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. He smirks at you unknowingly licking your lips when you spot the precum beading at the head. “Like what you see, angel?”

You nod, eyes still locked on his cock. “Gimme, please,” you whine.

“Anything for you, my love.” He climbs over you again and lines up. Your hips cant forward to urge him on, but his hands clamp down and pin them to the bed. “Gonna savor this,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock through your folds. Electricity bolts through you when it grazes your clit, teasing. His eyes are magnetized to where you’re about to be joined, awed at how beautiful you are for him.

Eventually, his cock notches into your entrance and you gasp lightly. That turns into a drawn-out moan as he takes his time sliding inside, one he matches as soon as he bottoms out. He’s so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach.

Then he’s gone, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow but hard, and your back arches. “So responsive,” he coos, and does it again and again, until he’s moving at a steady pace and driving you crazy. Taking advantage of the leisurely tempo, he ducks his head down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, making you grip the bed sheets with tight fists. He swirls his tongue around, biting gently every now and then to make you jolt against him.

Going so slow grows maddening. “Faster, please, baby. Need more of you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he vows. Soon, he’s moving so hard and fast that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, oddly erotic. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to do anything but take it, be Steve’s little plaything. It feels so good you can barely stand it.

You’re admiring how your boyfriend looks in the soft moonlight, making his eyes shine in an otherworldly way, when he says reverently, “You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart. Lookin’ like an angel sent just for me. Because you’re all mine, right?”

“Yes, Stevie, all yours,” you moan.

He growls at that, putting his hands on your thighs and pressing them to your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. You keen at the new angle, sound cutting off as he kisses you desperately, and you throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back, much too quickly in your opinion, but you forgive him because he does so to say, “And I’m all yours, baby. You’re the only one for me. Only you make me feel this good. You’re all I think about, all I wanna think about. There’ll never be anyone else, princess. I love you and only you.”

His words push you closer and closer to your release, even more intense than the first two. He knows, urging you on by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That’s it, soak my cock. Wanna feel you again, honey.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” you say over and over as your orgasm comes upon you. You scream Steve’s name when you finally cum, climax like a cascade, nails dragging down his back like they just might draw blood.

“Yes, angel, I love you too, missed you so much, oh my god, you’re so tight, love you, love you.” He’s babbling, finally cumming too, spilling hot and heavy. When he pulls out, your combined liquid pools out of you, and he groans one last time at the sight. He scoops some up with a finger to taste, eyes closing in delight. He opens them to look at you mischievously. “Wanna try?”

It should sound gross but it’s not. You nod and he repeats his motion. You suck his finger, pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable flavor. But it’s the essence of you and Steve–why wouldn’t it be good?

You must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing you know Steve is wiping you with a warm washcloth, being as gentle as possible. You hum as he pulls the covers over you, but whine when you hear him step away. “It’s okay, angel,” he says softly, “I’ll just be a minute.” You listen to the dresser drawer opening and closing, and then Steve padding out of the room. You doze until you hear him come back and close the door. At long last, he slides into bed and gathers you in his arms. You curl around him like moss on an old building, and he buries his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half-asleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve replies. “It’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. I love you so much, you know that? It’s the easiest thing to do, loving you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“I’m yours for good, angel. And you’re the only one for me. Promise.”

;

“It’s gonna be bright out there, angel, but just keep holding onto me, okay? I’ll get you there in one piece. All you have to do is show off that pretty smile. Sound good?” You nod at your boyfriend, smiling shyly. Steve grins. “There she is. Now, kiss for good luck?” You give him a kiss and then he’s out of the limo. Less than a minute later, he’s ducking back in the open door and holding out a hand for you. You take a deep breath, grab it, and slide out into the flashing lights.

A wall of sound hits you, and you try not to cringe against Steve. So many voices layer over each other, you don’t know what anyone is saying. But you just remember what Steve said and think of him on the night he came home and a smile forms on your face at the memory.

Steve helps you walk carefully down the red carpet, stopping you here and there to pose for the cameras. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you stable and so you can focus on looking natural. “Doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in your ear at one point, kissing your temple. You close your eyes when he does, hoping one of the photographers got a shot of it. You think you’d like to frame that.

Eventually you reach the end of the carpet, and Steve’s agent ushers you two into the building. It’s a whirlwind in here too, but more manageable, loud but controlled. Your boyfriend turns to you. “You okay?”

You sigh happily at the love and concern in his eyes. “I’m good,” you promise, and he smiles.

Someone shouts his name, and you both turn. None other than Nancy Wheeler is rushing towards you, a tall and lanky man being dragged behind. Steve automatically steps closer and holds your waist again, nodding back at his costar but only thinking about how you might feel. Your heart warms at his attention, and you meet Nancy with a genuine smile.

She stops and grabs your hands. “Oh my gosh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Steve mentioned you every chance he got. I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m excited to meet you too,” you reply.

“This is Jonathan, my boyfriend.” She motions to the boy beside her, who smiles awkwardly and holds out a hand. You shake it, as does Steve.

“Heard a lot about you too, man,” he says to Jonathan, making you feel even better.

“Are you excited for the movie?” Nancy asks, just to you. She’s barely even looked at Steve.

You nod. “Steve says it’s one of his favorites that he’s made.”

“Mine too! It’s such a sweet story. It’ll have you bawling by the end. I hope you brought tissues.”

You peer up at Steve, who had not told you that you were in for a crying fest. He laughs. “Don’t worry, angel. I got some.” He pats his jacket pocket.

Nancy’s eyes are glittering when you look back at her. “We gotta find our seats, but let’s talk at the after party. I have to put a face to all the stories Steve’s told!”

You agree and watch as she and Jonathan walk away into the crowd. You turn to Steve and he draws you close. “Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home and skip this whole thing?” He whines quietly.

You smirk. He’s been asking a variation of the same question ever since you stepped out of the bathroom in this dress—which accentuates your chest and ass “magnificently,” as Steve put it. He’d even tried starting something in the limo, but all that had accomplished was leaving him high and dry after you’d made him keep his hands to himself.

“You wanted me to see the movie,” you counter now.

“Yeah, but we could stream it later. It’s not like I’ll win an Oscar for it or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “You might! It’s prime awards season, babe. And you’ve been getting a lot of acclaim for this role. And you know the academies love a tear-jerker.” He blushes at your argument. “Plus,” you whip out the doe eyes, “I wanna see you on the big screen.”

He sighs in fake annoyance, a fond smile giving it away. “I did say your wish is my command, didn’t I?”

“Yup.” You smile triumphantly.

Steve grins back before kissing you soundly. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

He gives you one last peck, and then grabs your hand and leads you into the theater.

[enihk-writes]

[日久见人心]

characters: present!chung myung + afab!she/her!reader

baek cheon x afab!she/her!reader (implied and one-sided from the reader's end because they are not the main plot point for this fic lol)

summary: old habits die hard, even when you are born in a new body. to his credit, he does try not to seem like he is the reincarnation of the plum blossom sword saint, but his subconscious actions said otherwise. he didn't think you of all people would notice.

word count: 3.85k

author's note: the phrase 日久见人心 (rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) is part of the full saying 路遥知马力，日久见人心 (lù yáo zhī mǎ lì, rì jiǔ jiàn rén xīn) and i vaguely remember it was something my mother tongue teacher back in secondary said we could use in our composition essays or whatever,,,, and recently i saw it on those cringey rise-and-grind motivational crypto bro ig pages my ex-classmates are reposting on their stories which kinda gave me an idea lmao.... anyways the meaning of the quote is that we need to take time to understand a person's character (also the fic is the result of my caffeine overconsumption lol and not related to my previous cmxreader because i needed a break from all that angst romance i've been writing wwwwwwww)

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chung myung has been starting to think that you were cut out from the same cloth as yu iseol.

quiet, aloof and always watching.

if someone said that you both were twins, he wouldn't be surprised. but then again, there were differences. the most obvious one was that iseol had more talent with the blade than you did, and the other was that iseol had no talent in actually taking care of herself. you were barely managing, but compared to your senior sister? it was far more decent. the two of you had tang soso to thank for not dying as fast as you could have.

chung myung. bowl.

he looks up to see your hand outstretched, waiting to pick up the empty bowl he'd cleaned off long ago. chung myung grunts and hands it over, propping his arm up and resting his head on it as he watched you go around the dining hall to collect the dinnerware.

you lived in mount hua, sure, but you weren't the fighting sort. maybe because anything you did could get you sick — if the weather dropped or rose a little too quickly, your body would tremble and shiver. did you move a little too much today? did you happen to sleep later than you were supposed to that night? by the next morning you were down with a terrible fever that kept you in your room for the rest of the day. but now that tang soso was here, she would drag you down to the medicine hall, grumbling under her breath, all while you looked at her teary-eyed and apologetic.

maybe it was out of shame or embarrassment that made you try to be yourself useful in other ways, though you would often fail and cause more trouble. everyone would just sigh and pick up after your mess, ushering you out to do something else.

during those days, he'd find you hunched behind the baths, sobbing in frustration. chung myung didn't know what to do or say, he'd always talked more with his fist before his heart, so he'd end up hiding in the trees to watch over you instead. and once you've cried it all out, you would stand, wash your face and go to bed. trying something else tomorrow.

chung myung gives credit where credit was due. for a sickly kid, you sure had a thicker skin than the others.

eventually, you stuck with being the cleaner. your weird, meticulous habits somehow working well in this job. the cups and plates were wiped till it shone, silverware were polished until you could see your own face and that hard-to-scrub dirt on the grout would be pristine and white when left in your hands. chung myung wonders secretly if maybe you'd picked this talent up from that neat freak baek cheon.

what are you thinking about?

he almost hits you out of instinct. you really were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol.

he lets out a shaky breath as he turns to face you, who had been sitting behind him. you look at him owlishly and he would have thought you weren't breathing if not for the movement of your nostrils. crossing his leg over the other, he juts his chin at you in acknowledgement.

what is it?

you're quieter, and thinking a lot more than normal today.

ah... this kid... how does everything that comes out of that mouth sound like an insult? chung myung tries to reign in his short temper, he didn't want to hit a frail person for no reason, and he knows that you just happen to always talk like that.

hm. i was thinking about you.

woah. pervert.

ah... maybe he should hit your head just once. just once and he'll never hit you again.

i'm kidding.

really? were you now?

i'm really kidding, don't go and look like you're going hit me like you do with our senior brothers.

okay, you were off the hook. for now.

hmph. you shouldn't tease your elders.

what elder.

chung myung forgets that you were the same age as him. well, in this body, not spiritually. but if he were to talk about life experience and reincarnation, he was the older one but fuck! you didn't know that! he didn't tell anyone he was the plum blossom sword saint ugh!

chung myung, are you going to have an aneurysm?

shut up!

═══════════════

winter in mount hua was really cold. and chung myung, surprisingly, didn't do so well with the cold. though, he would rather die than let anyone ever find out about that.

he wakes up early to train as usual, but the cold this morning was so biting, he was tempted to just stay in bed, it wasn't easy being an old man. ah, but the other disciples would be celebrating if he didn't appear for morning practice and that was no good. after all, the future of the sect still depended on him, didn't it?

he got dressed and stepped out of his room —

chung myung.

fuck! couldn't you talk to people like a normal person? why do you love to sneak up on people like this? cheong mun sa-hyung please, please, please give him patience and strength.

you look cold.

he was! great observation! chung myung wants to yell that to you with gritted teeth. he was still, unfortunately, very unnerved by how he couldn't feel your presence.

follow me. i have something for you.

you didn't wait for him to reply, instead grabbing his hand as you dragged him to the kitchen. he didn't try to resist, letting you pull him wherever, like a parent going to see what their child just found.

the two of you walk across the training grounds that had been buried under a blanket of pristine snow, the dim light of your paper lantern showing you the way. treading past and leaving two sets of footprints behind.

you push him into the kitchen, hanging the lantern up on a hook in the wall. chung myung notices the fire in the stone stove, you had already started it before going out to find him, probably because you were boiling something in that pot standing over the fire. chung myung sits on the ground, huddling before the blaze, it felt warm and comforting in the kitchen. the sound of water boiling in the pot and the crackling of the charred wood its heat blowing across his frigid face was, unsurprisingly, giving him a boost of energy.

you carefully move the pot to the side, removing the lid to check the contents in it. looking pleased with the result, you take out a bowl still steaming into your hands and placed it on the ground between you and chung myung as quickly as you could.

he looks over curiously. it looked like some kind of pudding, he doesn't think he's seen it before —

it's milk pudding, with lotus seeds and almonds

oh? he pondered, eyeing the bowl as you handed him a spoon.

aren't these ingredients used to make mooncakes?

chung myung asks, folding his arms. he notices that you were avoiding his gaze. don't tell him you...?

did you steal these from the warehouse?

hey! steal is a strong word!

oh i'm sorry, your highness, did you perhaps take the ingredients from the fucking warehouse?

he scoffed mockingly, exaggerating his manner of speech in mild irritation. he laughed at your grimace and pouty expression. ah, he feels like he's making fun of a toddler, he should be ashamed for bullying a kid at his age.

hm, he hasn't done something this juvenile in a long time. it was oddly nostalgic, in a way. he mused, digging into the soft and smooth surface of the pudding with the spoon, trying to scoop up the lotus seeds and almonds in it too.

mmh. 's not bad.

wow, i didn't know you knew how to compliment people

should i take that back then?

i'm sorry.

═══════════════

you had been working hard in cleaning the floors for spring cleaning. but the boys were so heavy-footed and honestly far too uninterested in their surroundings that the well-polished wooden floorboards you were really proud of was always dusty.

should you just barricade the entrance of the dorms until nightfall? just so they wouldn't walk all over your hard work?

you sit on the steps, your hair tied into a scarf, head resting on the propped broom you held between your legs. thinking long and hard over your predicament while looking over at the training grounds where chung myung was drilling down on everyone else.

the sun hung high in the cloudless afternoon sky, its rays casting down on the compound harshly. you were beginning to feel dizzy and closed your eyes, hoping to relieve the pain growing in your head.

you didn't hear anything outside the constant ringing in your ears, so one can only imagine your surprise when the reddish tint you saw while your eyes were closed grew dark.

who?

you cracked open your eyes to try and make out the person standing before you, wincing when the bright light nearly blinded you.

a familiar chuckle graced your ears as the ringing grew quiet. ah, it was senior baek cheon.

he taps the bamboo flask against your forehead, the water in it swishing against the walls. you take it, grateful, chugging down the contents, choking on it a little when a few drops went down the wrong pipe.

hey, hey... slow down... no one's going to take it away from you...

you cough, turning away in embarrassment. baek cheon sits down next to you on the steps, watching your antics in quiet amusement. you didn't want to look at him, not when he was practically topless, with his hair tied up high and swept over his shoulder.

chung myung looks at the scene from afar, not really clocking anything in his mind until he sees the way you were trying to scoot a little further away like a snail touching salt and your hands covering up your cheeks.

oh.

oh?

so you and baek cheon huh?

chung myung feels the cogs in his brain turn. at times like these he wishes he had someone to talk about this with, maybe tang bo. he would have loved to hear about petty gossip like this, and they could have teased the kids like the old men they were.

so you think something is going on between her and baek cheon sasuk too, huh?

jo-gul's voice comes up from behind, and chung myung didn't need to look over to see the guy's eyes trained on his targets.

if you have so much free time to discuss other people's love lives, i think we can continue with our training right, sahyungs?

chung myung called out loudly for everyone to hear.

jo-gul you fucking bastard!

you and your big mouth...

ugh... i can't get up...

the poor guy could only hang his head in quiet embarrassment. baek cheon laughed at the antics of the others, getting up to walk back to the training grounds. but not before he reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.

if you're going to rest, do it in the shade. i don't think you want to fall ill again tomorrow, do you?

he asks, and you shake your head in response.

mmh. i'll see you around?

see you...

you wave meekly as he left, your insides going through an entire acrobatics routine. wondering what that short exchange was all about. it couldn't be that he liked you back? or did he catch onto your growing crush? you wanted to throw yourself off the cliff.

═══════════════

i didn't take you for a guy that had habits like this.

chung myung gulped down the last of the warm water in his cup, setting it down on the counter, and looked at you quizzically. your elbows were propped up over the edge of the counter and you were perched on the stool in a rather un-ladylike manner.

it's good for your health you know.

psh... isn't that an old wives tale?

he scoffs and shakes his head.

haah...

he sighs.

the young people these days.

you look at him, head tilted in confusion. humming for a bit, you let your thoughts simmer before you decided to pose the question.

hey, why'd you speak like that?

chung myung pauses.

like what?

you know... like an old man?

he sucks in a quick breath. there was no way you of all people would have figured it out, right?

he felt like he was spiralling into a bit of a panic.

hey.

you snap your fingers in his face, moving to stand beside him while he was deep in thought.

earth to chung myung?

he looks at you.

he takes a good look at you.

you were not the brightest bulb in the bush, or however that saying goes, at least when compared to him. there was no way you connected the dots and figured out he was the plum blossom sword saint. yeah, this was for sure a case of the right formula and the wrong answer.

he had to divert your thoughts before you start to think deeper.

i think i hear baek cheon sasuk coming over.

huh?

it was your turn to panic a little, and he darts out of the kitchen to escape what would have been your incoming torrent of scrutiny. you realise just then that you had been completely bamboozled by the bastard chung myung.

running to the door, you yell out a string of curses at the run-away instigator. ah, your blood pressure...

═══════════════

you think chung myung might have been raised by old people. because there was no other plausible reason that he acts the way he does.

sometimes he walks with his hands behind his back, and while most people your age would stand straight and position their arms in a stiff way, chung myung puts his hands on his lower back — like he was supporting it. you know who else does this? the sect leader and the other elders. and it doesn't help his case that he was always slouching a little.

another thing you notice was how his taste in food was a few notches blander than the rest of you. he wasn't fond of anything too salty or sour or anything undercooked. he'd always pick out the softest parts of any cooked meat, saying it was the juiciest, which was somewhat believable. but then wasn't it also nearest to where the animals organs used to be before it was gutted? wouldn't it taste bitter?

speaking of bitter, chung myung liked to eat food that made you squeamish. he'd nag at the nutritional value of them and when nobody wanted to try it out, he'd mumble something about kids these days not knowing what's good for them and scarf it down by himself.

that was another thing about him, why was he always calling you a kid when you were the same age as him? it wasn't that big of a deal for you. but calling the other seniors kids? you wondered if it was his way of showing his martial superiority in a twisted way, or if it was another underlying reason.

surely, it must be because he was raised by the elderly.

god, you were so smart, weren't you? connecting the dots like that?

═══════════════

chung myung was sure you were dropped on the head as an infant.

you had cornered him in the toilets. broke down and the door and everything, just to ask him who he was raised by. it was ridiculous, the scene that was folding out right then and he chooses to ignore that your weak body had somehow broken down a fucking wooden door. he has to ignore that, for his own sanity.

you were on the walls, hands clawing and feet digging on the rough surface. chung myung shirks away, exasperated. somewhere in the afterlife, he thinks he could hear the loud cackle of his friends at his predicament.

chung myung.

he tries to evade eye contact.

chung myung.

oh man, look at that spider on the ceiling spinning a web.

hey where are you looking? i'm over here.

he finally looks at you turning his head slowly.

uh... i think... you might be a bit too close...

a bit too close was a forgiving statement. your head had craned forward far enough that your face was almost less than a centimetre away from his.

you lean back at his reply. still not keeping your eyes off him. after all, he still hadn't answered your question.

you know that i'm an orphan... right?

yeah. so am i.

i wasn't raised by anybody...

oh.

you step back, pondering for a moment. chung myung feels the breath he was holding leave his lungs. you caused him so much anxiety. remember when he thought you were cut from the same cloth as yu iseol? he stands corrected, but you were insane in the opposite direction.

okay. so who raised you?

chung myung feels his eye twitch. why were you asking the same thing? he already told you!

i'm telling you—!

nuh-uh. that's not what i want to know. i want to know if you grew up with old people.

then you should have asked that from the beginning!

i panicked, okay?

he sighs, deeply, and covers his face in his hands. he feels his miraculous second life leaving his body at this exchange.

to answer your question. no, i didn't.

huh. i see.

you answer simply.

chung myung peeks at you through his fingers, surprised at your unusual silence. you, on the other hand, had grown more confused by his answer. if he hadn't been raised by the elderly, then how would anybody act the way he did? not to mention, he had knowledge of niche historical facts that nobody other than a person living in that time would have known of.

can i go now?

huh? oh yeah... sure...? oh! wait—!

you had answered too absentmindedly! you weren't done questioning him! shit! the slippery bastard had gotten away!

you jog out the door, only to bump into someone when turning a corner. a pair of arms catch you from falling. looking up you were met with baek cheon's worried gaze, which morphed into confusion when he realized at the same time as you did that you had ran out of the boys' toilets.

uh... wait... i can explain...

you wondered if a lighting bolt could strike down in broad daylight.

═══════════════

you were sulking in the kitchen.

the guy you had a somewhat infatuation with caught you in an embarrassing moment. you had convinced yourself all chances you had with him were ruined. this was all chung myung's fault. every time you had the slightest inconvenience you would secretly curse him out a little in your heart. you used to feel bad when you still had a working conscience, but not anymore though.

speak of the devil, and he comes walking in.

chung myung came in to ransack the cellar behind the kitchen for wine. he had been craving it for the past few days after his own stash ran out. he had waited for everyone else to be asleep before sneaking in as quietly as he could.

so one can only imagine the shock he felt, even though he swears he had already seen it all, when he finds your shadowy figure sitting crossed-legged on the counter and your two eyes staring right back at him in the darkness.

keugh—!

chung myung bites back a scream. fuck! can he please have one, one. peaceful day where you didn't fuck around with his psyche?

you didn't know he was coming in so soon. but you didn't care much since you had something to give him anyway.

shoving the lacquer box engraved with floral designs into his chest, you motion for him to take a look inside. chung mying complied, hesitantly lifting off the lid to find rows of thin mooncakes, without the egg yolks probably, and another layer under that was filled with a flaky-looking biscuit.

it's called tau sar piah.

he hums, taking the round ball out to inspect it. shrugging, he popped it into his mouth and chews down on the pastry. the flavour, it was familiar. he thinks, was it—?

dried mung bean paste?

you nodded, grinning.

what's this for though?

don't tell me you forgot.

forget? what did he forget?

it's your birthday you goon. well, in a few hours but still.

oh. he had forgotten, momentarily. you really were a good kid, remembering this old man's birthday and making something for him. shit, chung myung thinks he might tear up. was this what it was like to have grandchildren? he thinks he understands why cheong mun sa-hyung might have suggested he take on disciples of his own, or well, trusted him enough to babysit the children of the sect back then. ugh, he was a grandfather after all, and you were somehow his most troublesome child.

he sniffles. closing the lid on the box and grabbing the wine. well, it would be lonely to eat all of this on his own, and waking up the others would be too much of a hassle. suppose you would make do as his drinking buddy tonight. hooking an arm under your knees, he slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. the other grabbing the food and drink.

he jumps on the roofs until he brings you to a spot where the moon felt the closest. he drops you on your feet as you balance yourself on the uneven shingles. chung myung plopped down, leg crossed over the other, as he began to down the wine straight from the bottle.

he hands you the lid of the box, picking out the mooncake and biting into it.

wow. tastes kinda ass.

ugh, ungrateful much?

i never said i wouldn't eat it.

can't you just say your appreciation like a normal person?

a pause.

...thank you.

chung myung replied in a softer voice.

hmph. see? that wasn't so hard?

you huffed, teasing him.

chung myung only scoffed and rolled his eyes.

the night drudged on, and you spent the time talking about everything and nothing. things that happened that week, gossip you've heard, events that had happened in the past, antics of the other sect members...

chung myung feels his eyelids grow heavy. was it alright to rest his grieving heart for a while on his birthday? cheong mun sa-hyung and the others' surely wouldn't mind.

and as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, your voice quips up.

hey, do you think i should confess to sasuk?

psh—!

chung myung spits out the wine in his mouth, choking on the liquid that went up and out his nose. it felt as though he was vomiting out blood from that question alone.

you were really his most troublesome kid.

[asterefflores]

totally random but i saw the one guy who asked "who is orig cale to you" and im just a lil baffled lol. like... i didnt know that there were people who didnt consider og cale to be... og cale??? like... it's a transmigration novel. obviously kimcale isnt og cale??? thats the whole premise of the story???? unless they're talking about how the author hinted that kimcale's original name might have been "cale barrow" bc white star stole his body???? idk, i just didnt know there was anyone in the fandom who thought like that and im just a lil baffled and im wondering if someone can explain it to me cuz i cant quite wrap my mind around it LOL

cuz like...... we all know in literally chapter 1 that kimcale's real name is kim rok soo??? and we're reminded several times throughout the novel???????? like...... how do you read the novel and not notice that kimcale's name isnt actually cale????? (even with the ws thing, its totally possible that "cale barrow" isnt the name of kim rok soo's stolen body but rather the name that white star had back 1,000 years ago. which only makes sense when you consider "barrow" so like... kim rok soo's original name before his body was stolen is actually probably not even cale???)

its not really important who has which name in my opinion tbh, they could both be named bob for all i care, its just a bit weird to me that there are fans who dont know this??? idk, maybe they're the type of fan who's never read the novel but enjoyed the fandom so they just dont know?????? cuz like.... its just canon??? like not spoiler information??? this is literally chapter 1 information????????? im just guessing now. idk why this is so stuck in my head LOL sometimes i just fixate on shit and i cant quite turn my brain off. can anyone explain to me how this works???? or did i just misread the ask. im kinda focusing on the part that says "for you" which insinuates that there are people who call kimcale as orig cale and im like.... ??????????????????

Well, sorry I find this funny, wasn't expecting it lol, anyways,,

I was also confused at first but thought maybe they assumed I was the one confused and mixed ogCale with kimCale or something xD

Some in the fandom don't get me when I say ogCale and then post an art of Cale in Krs body, and apparently to majority, ogCale is Trash Cale or young Cale, while to me ogCale is just the same whether young Cale or Cale in Krs body later.

Or maybe they simply phrased the question wrong by mistake or as you said, enjoyed the fandom and hadn't read the novel or the Manhwa.

[egipci]

re: your flash-fic 'tutorial' (lol), I'm curious: what was "the sentence" that sparked your last few fics? (your choice)

do they normally survive until the final draft?

hello dear friend <3 so I would say a lot of the time "the sentence" ends up being the first or last sentence of a story, but sometimes it goes somewhere in the middle, especially in a longer piece, in which case I'm kinda stuck until I find another sentence to go first. A lot of the time for a flash I need both the first and the last sentence before I even start writing, so I have a general sense of the sound of the story. And I really try to make sure it survives, but it doesn't always happen, in which case it lives somewhere in my drafts until I write a new story for it (if I actually remember, but the good ones tend to stick around!)

So like, for "Vertigo," I'd already had the first sentence playing around in my mind for a long time, and I actually lifted it from a Mary POV fic I was working on (that sentence is sort of a madlib of a first sentence I really like from a Kathryn Davis short story-- which is a great way to come up with "sentences"). And then a final sentence came to me, which according to my gdoc history is

"But then you turned your head up to the sky, so I looked up, and it was huge and black, super-infinite."

I really really wanted the last word to be "super-infinite." I was very much in a John Donne mood (cf. fleas and mysterious bitey things in this story and in "Chorus"). I played around with all variations of "the sky was black and it was super-infinite," and "it was black and super-infinite," and "it was huge and black and super-infinite," "black, super-infinite" etc. for probably way too long. There was a weird discordant thing going on where I didn't necessarily want to write this story in first person, but that last line demanded it. And then by the time I'd finished the bulk of the story that line had to go, in part because of logical/practical concerns, e.g. how are they looking at each other if they sky is black? but also because it didn't sound right. First-person can very easily veer on excessively sentimental, and a fic context is doubly perilous because we know how the characters talk (not that 1st person fic has to sound like a monologue off the show or anything, but you know). And so it was cut, but having it as scaffolding was really helpful for me to figure out that I wanted that stargazing moment and the feeling of smallness that comes with that, which (hopefully) is more subtly translated in "to feel us so small again..."

For "Chorus" the "sentence" was also the first sentence, which had been floating around in a j/d draft since like, May 2022. It was initially "we hung from the rafters" (which now that I think about it could have worked, "We hang from the rafters and we watch," but I guess I liked the rhythm of those first four sentences more: "We watch from the rafters. It’s dusk. He’s in love. We send him home."

For "Miles Ahead" the sentence was that opening fragment and the last line as a unit. "What I was trying to tell you---" came first and I played around with it for a while until I got "is I’ll take you anywhere," and then all the stuff in the middle (the interruption/flashback) came in after. Needless to say, many many hours were spent agonizing over "I'll take you anywhere" vs. "I'd take you anywhere," but I liked the tense-trickery of the first one more.

For this (older) flash, the sentence was the (incredibly baroque lol) final phrase that had been on my mind for a while -- "quiet for little Sammy sleeping, then vigil for little Sammy gone"-- and the whole story is basically written to get to it.

In "Dubuque" (which started off as a flash) the sentence was the first sentence: "In the space of three hours that no-good son of a bitch Lee Webb had Dean swaying on his feet," but the reason the story ended up going further was this bit in the middle: "fingertips over strong muscle loving him and loving the weight of him. Loving his danger. His masculinity," which felt excessive to throw in in a flash.

But like, sometimes the sentence is not a sentence and just more of a story structure I want to play with. This story from earlier this year stalled for a couple of days after I nailed the opening until I remembered Jamaica Kincaid's "Girl," so that inspired the structure there. This birthday story has no stand-out "sentence," I just liked the rhythm of "Dad said and Dean said and Sam said," etc. (Though just now I'm noticing the sentence is basically the whole story!)

[toxicslimemutant]

Vent art... I guess

TW for sensitive mental health related stuff (and also me rambling... a LOT)

idk if this is the kind of thing I should be posting but fuck it, we ball

i was gonna try and draw a vent art thing earlier bc i wasn't feeling too great but instead it turned into me doing this. i tried drawing something but I didn't like it so instead i decided to write a bunch of stuff on the page to vent out my feelings (starting with the words "i can't fucking draw" bc that's what I was trying to do in the first place)

all the words i wrote down are my thoughts/feelings that i've had in my head, some more than others. and u can't completely make out everything bc a lot of it is written over top of each other. but most of the stuff i wrote down are self-deprecating and very negative and troubling.

I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE IT VERY CLEAR THAT I HAVE NO INTENTIONS TO KILL OR HARM MYSELF IN ANY WAY!!!!! i am saying this because a lot of the things written in the photo above have something to do with me wanting to harm myself or saying that i want to die. and those are NOT things i actually want to do to myself but it is written so frequently above because it's not uncommon for me to think some of those things.

i have a lot of these thoughts on a daily basis and i don't really know why. i'll even repeat some of these phrases in my head usually when i'm upset, frustrated, mad, tired, fed up with something, when i'm doing something i don't wanna do (like work) or when i can't do something.

my mental state has been like this for a while now and there isn't much i can do about it. not that i really know what to do about it anyway. but i figured it was better to get it out someway rather than keep it in my head bc that's not really doing much for me.

over the past like 2 years now i've been trying to get some help but it hasn't really been easy to get the ball rolling on that. and it's been especially difficult for me for the past several months now because i have been more then ready to start tackling all my mental issues and issues in general but i haven't been able to start doing that yet. so i guess i just kinda feel like i'm stuck and i have absolutely no clue what to do about it.

anyway this vent piece was just me trying to do literally ANYTHING that could potentially help me and i think it did help at least a little bit. i know it's not really gonna fix or change anything but at the very least it better then sitting and doing absolutely nothing for who knows how many times now.

thank you to anyone who actually bothered to read all this lol

here, have a cookie u earned it :) 🍪

[ladyazulina]

August 4th

This day was... unexpected in a lot of senses, but I did what I wanted (as my goal), so everything is okay anyway.

I'm noticing I'm not only talking about my writing in those posts and don't know how to feel about that, maybe I should restrain myself and keep on topic or something... I will see.

I... canceled my stream this morning, just two minutes after I started it. The day was... not being kind to me, a lot of weird things happening at the same time, so I also... didn't write early. Mostly because of that.

I decided I wasn't in the mood.

So I passed the morning trying to rewatch Hamilton (trying because the internet was being a devil and the movie stopped every thirty seconds or something like that... for three hours, bless me for continuing trying for that long), Dear Theodosia was suddenly stuck in my head and hearing the song on Youtube wasn't enough.

And after that, how I was set on watching another musical I haven't been able to and wanted since a while ago, I continued with Tick, tick... BOOM!

It was good... I have to watch Rent now.

I have to see all the musicals I ever wanted now, before my hearing gets worse and they became too loud and painful to watch. (I put them on hold because I bought an accessory that let me hear the sounds directly in the hearing aids, but one of my hearing aids started faulting, and I wasn't going to hear anything that way while only wearing one.)

SO! I decided it was time to get to work. My goal of the outline in a month won't go anywhere if I don't sit to make it happen, right?

So I sat to make it happen.

I finished eight of these to reach ten

and also got some essences that let me finish some quests.

But I had a few more words to chime in, so I decided to go against three of these

because I need lots of wood for another quest.

In word count language (?)

Worked in: Microstory. Words written: 23.

I surprised myself adding a new microstory to my second collection (you can find the link to the first collection here), after transcribing a nine-word microstory I wrote before going to sleep.

I also wrote

Worked in: This post. Words written: 161.

which I feel a bit ashamed to be sharing this way. It has no hashtags because I kinda don't want anyone finding it just because and because I don't feel like airing it around (looking for ways to get traction) on the posts with my raw feelings. Yeah, I felt a lot better after feeling validated, and I would love to connect with other people feeling like me, but I found it... wrong to voice it out in the first place to also... format it in a way that makes my voice be spread. I don't know if I am making myself understood.

Sigh.

Anyway, I also

Worked in: AngelDemon. Words written: 1.259.

The outline of the fourth chapter is ready and things are already getting heated there. I'm writing down everything that occurs to me and trying to find answers to the questions even if it's not there where they will be answered. I can't rely on myself to remember it later. So better safe than sorry.

I just remembered I wanted to share a snippet of that old work, I think from the second chapter, but I will do it later when I start rewriting. I think it's still good and still holds a lot of meaning, but it won't be kept, at least not phrased that way, so if I'm going to change it, I can as well share it.

What I will share about it right now is that the demon fell first, but the angel fell harder.

Okay, nothing more to see here except the summary:

Total words: 1.443. Lower daily goal: 100 ✅ Higher daily goal: 300 ✅ 4thewords goal: 444 ✅

And there were days when I wasn't even able to write 100 words... they feel so far away...

Should I be saying that? Not going to be that I'm jinxing myself here...

Tagging: @aziz-reads

[meat-the-sullivans]

Candy just be sending Cade texts during school complaining how boring it is without him and keeping him up to date on annoying kids and teachers lmao

but also positive stuff, like immediately letting him know when she got a good grade in French or a teacher told her she did a good job

and obviously stuff like

"bully X was super rude to person Y so I shared some bonbons with them 🥰"

"also, kinda off-topic, but later that day they were send home due to stomach cramps and vomiting 🤔"

ooor

"someone's been stealing my food, and today I took some chocolate I made myself, but it disappeared from my bag 😩"

"either way, this one kid apparently shit his pants during an exam after lunch lol"

Cade rolls his eyes at his phone, sticking it back into his pocket. A certain headsick, cotton Candy girl had been texting him all afternoon while he was stuck at work with his brother.

He chuckled under his breath as he went back to skinning the deer head he was working on. Demetri poked his head in through the back, checking in on his younger brother.

“I’m pleasantly surprised to see your almost finished” the older man commented.

“I’m not incompetent, you know this.” Cade glared at his brother.

“It was a compliment, but if you’re going to be hostile about it-“

“What do you want Sully, or did you come back here just to shadow me?”

Sully lets out a sigh.

“I was going to tell you perhaps I was too harsh the other day. You’ve shown initiative and have taken this first week of suspension quite well. All things considering.”

“But I had to go and run my mouth, got it. So what, now I have to work here when I’m back at school too?”

Demitri slowly pulls the clever out of his hand and places it flat on the metal table. Forcing the youngest boys attention to be solely on him.

“You done?”

Cade just nods, letting out a huff.

“A friend of mine brought it to my attention, that perhaps it would be beneficial for you to socialise more with other children your age. I didn’t have many friends when I was your age either, and it’s not fair of me to keep you locked up in here all day. You’re free to go.”

Cade fidgeted with his hands, missing the weight of the heavy knife in his palm.

“What’s the catch?”

“You help on the weekends, so I can spend more time with your niece. She’s acting up in school as well and refusing to speak English. Dipper requires more attention.”

“What is with these Americans, now it’s wrong to not want to speak this stupid language? Dipper didn’t do shit.”

“I’m not saying I agree with them, but we have to follow the rules if we want to stay here Cade, you know this. Stop being facetious, you’re plenty old enough to understand how these things work. You remember what father taught you?”

“Of course I do, he only beat it into me everyday.” Cade hissed, “fine. Can I go?”

Sully looked toward the doorway to dismiss the younger boy.

“Tell miss Walker I said hello.”

Cade paused in the doorway, not bothering to look back at his brother.

“How did you-“

“Your ears flush pink when you’re thinking about her- you’re not as immune to human emotions as you think…”

Cade grumbled under his breath, shoving the door open with force and ripping off his apron, throwing it down on the counter. Few people got under his nerves as consistently as his brother and came out of the interaction unscathed.

Cade decided it was best to lay low for a while, and stay on Sully’s good side. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun. He pulled out his phone to text the one person who was worth anything in this town.

Candy:

Those idiots deserved it, nice work by the way. The test and those goons. Study session in the park tonight.

It wasn’t phrased as a question and he hoped Candy would understand that. He wanted to see her tonight, but he knew much studying wouldn’t be done. Cade needed to decompress, his annoyance was on high and she’s the only thing that made a lick of sense to this boy.

[bellamonro3]

Office fantasy

I wonder if he’s in today? I ask myself as if I don’t already know the answer but I do and i can’t lie I’m a little excited to see him. At first him staring at me used to bother me not because it creeped me out or anything it’s because he never makes a move. Sure he speaks or flashes a sexy smile from time to time but that’s about it.

Today for lack of a better phrase was a complete shit show and it’s only 11:30am so I’m kinda looking forward to this cat and mouse game we play. I always catch him staring at my toes lol my Spidey senses are telling me he has a bit of a foot fetish but that could just me projecting but I still make sure I have a fresh pedicure just in case.

He always looks so nice in and today was no different . His black tailored suit fit in all the right places. I can tell his been in the gym not that he needed it. I know he doesn’t show it off on purpose but his dick can’t help but make an appearance in those pants. I’m not an underwear girl unless it’s lingerie but find myself so turned on by him sometimes I wish I had a pair on. She gets pretty wet especially at the thought of him.

He compliments me all the time, and although I make it a point to look good in the office, something about his compliments rolling off that tongue of his just makes me instantly want to take his clothes off.

The other day I caught myself in my office using his pen. When I looked down and realized his name was on it I rushed to his office to give it back. He simply smiled and thanked me, bit his lip a little as he often does which sends my pussy into instant ocean mode and I went back to my office .

As I sat in from of my laptop all I could think about was sliding in front of him while he sat back in his chair , climbing on his lap and tongue kissing his soul. Then I’d begin unbuckle his bet and slide it out of each loop slowly. I’d never bring my handcuffs to work, but I need him restrained so the belt it is. Once his hands are secured I unzip his pants with my teeth as I look back up into his eyes . I make him watch me swallow every inch of his rock hard dick. My mouth is sooo wet and the first taste of it. He leans his head back and moans in ecstasy then instantly looks back at me in amazement at how deep I have him down my throat. My mouth becomes a swimming pool his dick feels sooo good going in and out of my mouth I want to swallow him whole. I pick up the pace going fast then slower using one hand then two . He’s cussing and moaning becoming more and more undone with every stroke. He whispers “Good Girl” as I deep throat him not event knowing how that feeds the sex goddess inside me. My instant thought is “ Finish him” and so I proceed to suck the fuck out of that dick and snatch his soul. I taste him starting cum so I steady my pace . I want him to enjoy every last minute of this. Is cum tastes good but I’m not surprised based on his diet. He’s a gentleman and hands my tissue but I had already used my hand ( I’m a pro) I smile sweetly, get up , untie him and head back to my office leaving him stuck.

Suddenly I hear a voice ……. It’s his

I instantly snap out it and look up to see him standing in the doorway wearing the most devilish grin.

He caught me in my office playing with my pussy. Something I’ve done countless times thinking of him.

What did I do next you ask?

I looked him dead in the eyes and sucked my sweet cum off my soaking wet fingers.

The next move is his …..

[1v1-me-irl]

I genuinely loathe being fucking aware of my own mental state sometimes

Every once in a while the bipolar smacks me with an episode and it’s so frustrating. I’ll be sitting there, fine as fuck, suddenly I’m a little sad or irritated over??? Quite Literally Nothing At All?!?

And then I’ll analyze, trying to figure out if it’s really because of nothing or if I’m ignoring something so I start to think about all the little things that caused me a slight bother through out the week, that I handled just fine at the time. A comment that stung just a *little* more than intended. Not calling my doctor and allowing myself to run out of my ADHD meds for a few days. Not adapting well enough to a sudden shift in my plans. Allowing it to mess me up for days on end. Fuck, that’s been happening more lately hasn’t it? What’s wrong with me, why do I feel like this?

That flash of a feeling I had this week? Of what, exactly, who knows. I mean, I think I might. But the word I find myself wanting to say isn’t exactly enough to describe all of the complexities and nuance I could fit into whatever *that* was and that if I used it, I feel like it would minimize the experience. Either way, it’s stupid, really. No matter what name you call it.

I wish I di-

“Hey, what’s up?”

Oh. Great. I’ve been auto responding haven’t I? Fuck me.

“Oh. I’m just kinda sad. I don’t really have a reason.”

“Wanna talk to me about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” And I feel the scoff come out at the end, the irritability plain as day in my voice. Something vile inside me full on laughs as I spit those words.

And immediately the guilt crashes over. It’s not you, you’re trying to help, what the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I always do this?

“I’m not mad at you, you didn’t do anything,” I feel my mouth say, still angrily. Good job.

I’m spiraling, aren’t I?

Like nothing should be this deep right now, but it feels like I’m getting swallowed whole. I’m probably just stuck in black and white thinking. I’m over analyzing, that’s probably what got me here in the first place.

I need to stop doing that. Like this is just objectively stupid.

I should joke about this on tumblr. But how do I phrase it??? And as I start typing, and backspacing, and retyping, I find I’m just letting go, getting calmer. Laughing a little at the irony that 5 minutes ago I was thinking maybe I over think too much and that’s what got me in a hole and now overthinking it got me out, the human brain is so weird. It’s fascin-

“I wanna cuddle”, I hear him say

A flash of irritation, he barely got to finish his sentence before that little voice was back in my head, pointedly responding with “I want you to shut the fuck and leave me alone.” Immediate guilt and choking down tears again.

“I don’t really want to cuddle right now.” Is the only thing I can bring myself to say. Why couldn’t you have just gone to work?

And now I’m just fucking in pieces from emotional whiplash and I can tell I’m having an episode but I literally can not just tell my brain “hey, stop, we’re being ridiculous and like a lot of this is really unfounded.” But that’s just not how it works? Despite me *knowing* this to be true???

I’m just tired.

[headstrongblake]

@thewholecrew: nate & octavia. | all american universe

octavia lifted her hand a touch between them, head shaking with a gentle smile, "no, not at all, lotta people around here are not the biggest sharers so it's just nice, is all." ever since she was little octavia's been curious by nature. always needing to figure out how things worked or know everyone's business around her. she's learned to temper it for her people. squash it when she accidentally pokes in an uncomfortable place, but nate seems to offer no reservations about telling her his life story. "uh, no actually, just me. bellamy was older when..." she hesitates even still, years later, always unsure how to phrase it. when she lost her parents? when they died? when her brother murdered their father, and their mom committed suicide? "he was older and into some trouble when our parents died, i went to a couple foster homes, a group centre," she shrugged, "my brother went to some military type school and got me out eventually."

she watched him with her chin tucked on her knees while he glanced toward the sky. a soft pink dusted her cheeks, hidden by the winter's chill as nate suggested duncan would have liked her. "oh yeah? well, obviously, he had good taste, everyone likes me," she declared proudly with a light laugh. she would have liked to have known him; he truly did sound like a good person, as far as criminals went, anyway.

listening to nate talk about duncan expanding his horizons, she could only laugh quietly to herself and smile with amusement. truly, what more could a twelve-year-old have wanted? it felt familiar even because although her brother had often steered away from doing many illegal activities around her if anyone taught her how to survive, it was him. much like duncan and nate. "he gave you the knife, didn't he?" she asked, chin gesturing toward his pocket as she remembered how nate had asked for only it back when she'd disarmed him the first time they'd met. he said it meant something to him.

nate's skepticism was met with octavia's confident gaze, "yeah, i do." she answered shortly. if nate stuck around, in time she knew the rest of the gang would give him a chance. with grant and nick back in each other's corners, she was sure her brother could use another person to turn to when ultimately, the boys got under his skin. "like i said, they've all...kinda been through it, it makes them hesitant, just give it time and i guarantee you they start coming around. you've got skills nate, they'll see that." she complimented, rubbing her palms against her arms on the outside of her jacket, "but honestly...it sounds great, i know but it can be a lot," she warned lightly with a lift of her brow. for years family meant her brother, it was nearly overwhelming some days to look at all the friends and family she had now. "and nick will eventually...not hate you." she added playfully, "he hates everybody at first, trust me."

@headstrongblake: nate & octavia. / verse: all american.

at octavia's response to his little story he laughed a little sheepishly, shrugging as his gaze returned to the pop can he was fiddling with in his hand. "too much of an overshare?" he asked but he was a little surprised for her to be able to relate though, mentioning foster care that she had been in and a brow rose as green eyes met hers. "you were in foster care?" he asked curiously before brows pinched together in confusion, "you and your brother then?" he wondered if they'd been separated or something but, the whole system was a nightmare. he'd never been happier than when he was living on the streets if that was anything to go off of at how miserable that damn boys home was.

he laughed though at her statement of running as far as he could, "well, clearly only far enough to get here," he pointed out playfully with a shrug, noting the change of her body posture. a scoffed chuckle escaped him as a cheeky grin spread across his face and he nodded, "me too," he said honestly. well, for the most part. he could do without finn, without his corruption and murdering his only father/brother figure. he sighed at that, leaning back on both his hands again as he looked up at the sky.

when octavia mentioned duncan, his lips pressed together but he kept the smile on his face, even if it turned a little bittersweet. "i think he woulda liked you," he told her with a shrug before laughing again as his green eyes sparkled mischeviously at her question. "i'm a born natural," he teased, "had to if i wanted to jail break the hell outta there, ya'know?" he pulled out the switchblade duncan had given him as he sat up a bit, playing with it in his hand as he easily flipped and spun it between his fingers, "it was one of the reasons he took interest in me, noticed me breaking in to the back of a convenience store. he helped uh, broaden my views," he mused, "i really just wanted a chocolate bar and well he suggested the money in the till would last longer."

"in my defence i was like... twelve?" he shrugged with a grin. at the mention of the loss his hand stilled, flipping the blade closed as he held it in his hand, looking down with a small shrug. "thanks," he said sincerely. she was honestly the first one to say such a thing to him and he swallowed thickly, "yeah," he nodded. he missed the man, he missed his old gang if he was honest. aside from finn they were a bunch of goofy characters and though they were considered criminals, they were overall good people. at the mention of sticking around, nate raised a brow, glancing sideways at her before a softer laugh escaped. he tucked the blade back into his pocket and leaned back on his hands again, "you really think so?" he asked her playfuly though there was a bit of doubt in his gaze. aside from octavia, kassy and alec, he wasnt too sure he was anything but an annoyance, but a liability to the gang.

he wasn't sure what that was like, having more family than he knew what to do with. it sounded kind of nice if he was honest, and her people, whether they seemed to like him or not, he was intrigued by them. they seemed like decent people, (again when they weren't speaking to him). "hope you're right, sounds pretty sweet if you ask me," nate told her with a dimpled grin.

[wxshing-aep]

The Late Late Show (pt 5)

Andrew Garfield x famous! reader

One Rule Series

In which y/n and andrew are in fact not dating but no one is buying it and andrew may not be the only one with heart eyes for y/n

warnings: tiny bit smutty (mentions of sex), some handsy stuff, oral but barely, mentions of underage drinking, swearing, dumbasses in love, hot british men

all characters are 18+, reader is 20 Andrew is 21

(not proofread oop)

If someone asked you how you ended up with your back pressed against the wall of your dressing room with andrew’s lips on yours and his hand down your pants you’d tell them that you had absolutely no idea. When you had invited him to your dressing room to hang out you really did intend to watch a movie or something but turns out the tv in your dressing room doesn’t actually work so you just ended up talking. Andrew’s quite an expressive conversationalist and likes to talk with his hands and you can’t really help but let your eyes drift to them every once in a while. That night that you and Andrew had shared together was supposed to be a one-off: a get him out of your system type thing, but you think it might’ve made that little fire inside you glow a little brighter for him. You’ve been spending the last couple days attached at the hip and doing interview after interview with him and you’ve caught yourself letting your eyes linger a bit too long on his hands or his lips -god his lips- but honestly who could blame you? Especially now that you are very familiar with exactly how good they feel on your lips and on your-

“Earth to y/n” Andrew announces waving a hand in front of your face. “think I lost you there for a second”

“sorry I just uh- tired, what were you saying”

“just wanted to make sure that we” he gestures between the two of you “are okay”

“yea? why wouldn’t we be”

“no reason, it’s just- after the other night I just wanted to make sure that nothing changed ya know? I don’t want things to be different between us” he was lying. he wanted things to be different. As cheesy as it sounds, he wanted more with you. He wanted to wake up next to you, to hear you complain about your day, to take you on dates, to hold your hand while walking down the street. He wanted you to be his. But every time he got close to confessing the depth of his feelings to you the words got stuck and his throat and he was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same and that it would ruin your friendship and he thinks not having you in his life at all might kill him so he decided to settle on taking whatever you’d give him. 

“don’t worry about it okay? I mean it was just a one time thing like just a nice night”

“oh wow ‘a nice night’ that’s all I get?” he says with a nudge to your shoulder.

“it was a nice night”

“yea but that’s what you should say about our movie marathons or i dunno- having dinner with your grandma, not us having sex”

“okay 1: we didn’t have sex, we hooked up and 2: please never mention me having sex and my grandma in the same sentence ever again”

“I mean if we wanna disregard the basic patriarchal idea of what sex is then oral sex kinda does count as-”

“stop using the phrase oral sex, you sound like an old man”

“alright then would you rather me just say I ate your pu-”

“andrew!”

“what? do you want me to be quiet so you can bruise my ego again?”

“I’m not trying bruising your ego, what’s wrong with me saying it was nice??”

“oh i don’t know, I was looking for more of an ‘oh andrew, it was mindblowing’-”

“i don’t sound like that” you add but he ignores you and continues his little rant.

“or at least an ‘it was great’ because with the way that i remember your legs shaking around my head ‘nice’ seems like a bit of an understatement”

“well maybe you don’t remember correctly” you challenge.

“well maybe you just need a reminder” oh... oh.

Andrew’s mouth tends to work a bit faster than his brain and he’s about to apologize for being so forward when you take a step closer to him because he’s not the only one that struggles with impulse control.

“maybe I do” yea, that’s the last straw for him and suddenly his hands are on your face, lips meeting yours as he back you against the wall of your dressing room and god do you hope these walls aren’t thin. It didn’t take long for his hands to travel south, playing with the waistband of the sweats you’ve been lounging around in. He separates his lips from yours momentarily to mutter an “is this okay?” to which you nod frantically. He brings his lips back to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hand ventures into your pants. You moan into his mouth when his fingers rub circles around your clit causing him to chuckle against your lips before moving his mouth to your ear.

“feel nice?” he definitely put some extra emphasis on that second word and you probably would’ve had a witty answer prepared for him if his fingers weren’t currently making your head spin.

At some point his shirt was thrown somewhere across the room he ended up helping you out of your sweatpants and underwear and was now on his knees in front of you, peppering kisses up your leg. He doesn’t waste much time before bringing your leg to rest over his shoulder and licking a stripe up your core that makes you shudder. His lips attach to your clit and your hand finds its way into his hair. 

Your mind was buzzing, fully intoxicated by him: his hands on you, lips on you, the way that he talked, the way that he smelled, the way that someone was knocking on your door-

wait what? Originally you thought you might have imagined it, that is until you hear another three knocks on the door that send both you and Andrew into a panic.

“shit, shit, shit!” you whisper yell as you and andrew separate from each other and start frantically searching for your clothes. “just a second!” you yell toward the door as you fumble to yank your pants that you’d found strewn across a chair up your legs.

“you need to hide” you direct towards andrew pushing him towards the closet in your dressing room.

“what why? can’t we can just say I was hanging out in here?”

“Look at us” and that’s when Andrew turns to examine your appearance in one of the many body mirrors in the room and takes in how disheveled you both look: swollen lips, messy hair, not to mention the fact that he was still shirtless.

“you know what I think I’ll hide”

“oh what a great and original idea that no one’s ever had before” you retort as andrew settles himself among your many outfit options and you slide the closet door closed before trying to look as presentable as possible to answer the door.

You pull it open and your eyes widen when you see your director, Mindy Kailing, looking back at you. Mindy ‘very successful woman in hollywood’ Kailing. Mindy ‘I literally only gave you one rule and it was not to get involved with your costar’ Kailing. Mindy ‘absolutely has the power to fire you’ Kailing.

“heyyy Mindy, sorry about the wait I was uh- napping”

“oh no worries dear” she starts, letting herself into your dressing room carrying a package. “now, I know they’ve given you plenty of options to wear for the interview tonight but we got sent this beautiful Versace dress that I just think you would love” she rambles pulling out what may be the most expensive looking dress you’ve ever seen. 

“I get to wear this?”

“of course, be careful though this thing costs about 7 college tuitions”

“oh”

“you’re going to look amazing, let me hang it up for you” she says before starting to make her way toward your closet and it’s at this point when you remember the very british, very shirtless, very much your costar and did you mention shirtless man that’s hiding in there.

“no, no” you interrupt her path by stepping between her and your dressing room closet. “we should uh- just keep it out here i mean, a dress like this should definitely be out in the light don’t you think?”

“I like the way you think!” she responds and hooks the dress into an empty display rack instead. “alright, they need you in the makeup chair in 10! also have you seen andrew? they sent a suit for him as well but he wasn’t in his dressing room when I checked.”

“nope” you respond probably a bit too quickly. “haven’t seen him but he’s probably somewhere you know him always uh- somewhere”

“right well if you see him let him know I left it in his dressing room”

“perfect thanks!” you reply shutting the door behind her as she exits. 

You let out a sigh of relief before heading over the closet to let andrew out. He scrambles out and stands up stretching his limbs.

“You know for a professional liar, you’re not a very good liar. how would you even take a nap in here? there’s not even a couch” he comments.

“well she bought it, didn’t she? so stop making fun of me and go get your suit”

“woww, you’re kicking me out? after I was so nice to you” he says picking up his shirt off the floor and he’s not even facing you but you can hear the smugness in his voice.

“shut up and get out”

“so bossy”

-

“ Welcome back to the Late Late Show” introduces James Corden. “Tonight, we’ve got two of the hottest stars on the planet right now, give it up for Y/n Y/l/n and Andrew Garfield!”

“Happy to be here James!” Andrew responds clad in his new suit that he simply looks far too good in.

“Well I am happy that you’re here. Now Andrew we’ve had you on the show before but Y/n you’ve just had an incredible past few months. You’ve just been nominated for a daytime Emmy award for lead actress in a drama or comedy series- one of the youngest to ever be nominated for that by the way, how are you feeling about all of this?”

“It’s crazy. I’ve never done anything on this scale before but the cast and crew is so amazing at what they do that it really just becomes like this big fun game of pretend that I get to do for a few months and I really hope we get to continue this story and find out what happens to these characters because I think I’ve grown pretty fond of them”

“And so has quite literally the entire world, ‘This is the Life’ is absolutely smashing all kinds of records right now and people are going crazy for it and especially going crazy for the dynamic between your characters, can you tell us a bit about that?” James asks.

“Well without giving any spoilers,” andrew begins “ I’m just really excited to see where they end up because they definitely tend to bicker like cats and dogs and are normally quite rude to each other for most of their interactions but I think in like this weird cosmic way Max needs Ash because she’s one of the only people that sees straight through this kind of facade that he’s built to protect himself so she’s kind of one of the few people who really sees him”

“I love that. People are absolutely losing their minds over the Max and Ashlynn dynamic. They’re calling them Maxlynn online, have you guys seen that?”

“Yea, I’m not going to lie I tend to lurk on twitter pretty often” you answer, “and I just find it so funny because Tom and Zendaya play Harry and Iris who are this adorable and stable couple with this super healthy foundation and relationship and then I’ll see tweets that are like ‘yea yea whatever wholesome love sounds great, but the ones that seem like they want to kill each other? yea, make them kiss in the rain right now or else lol’ and then they’ll like tag Mindy.” Your anecdote gets a laugh from andrew as well as James and the audience.

“Speaking of tweets, we got absolutely bombarded with them when it was announced that we were having you two on show. This fandom is no joke and we’ve got a lot of questions that came in for you guys so we thought it would be fun if we throw a few of these questions at you” James prompts.

“yea go ahead” “sounds good”

“Lovely, alright the first one is from user y/ndefenselawyer-”

“wow great username” you comment.

“absolutely and they want to know what is your favorite memory from set”

“oh gosh there’s so many” you start.

“the college party was fun” andrew comments to you.

“oh yea i almost forgot about that” you nudge andrew prompting him to tell the story.

“so basically on this show we’re playing a bunch of college aged kids and we are a bunch of college aged kids but none of us have ever actually been to college and I think it was actually Timothee’s idea but Tom will take credit for it if you ask him but the idea was that we should attend an actual university for a few days and the network was like oh yea that’s a great idea so they literally enrolled the seven of us into classes at USC for like 3 days” andrew starts.

“so you were all just taking actual college classes?”

you nod and add “yea and it worked out really well because we’re all the right age and the show cast hadn’t been announced yet and it’s like one of my first projects so I was chilling like no one was interrogating me but it was hilarious watching everyone else just gaslight anyone who came up to them like someone was talking to Florence and asked if she was in Little Women and she’d just be like ‘ugh why do people always say I look like that girl’ and like stomp away from them”

“That’s hilarious,” James comments “so what’s this about a party?”

“we had literally only been there for about a day and a half and somehow y/n had already gotten the entire USC basketball team to fall in love with her-”

“they were not in love with me” you remark swatting his shoulder.

“right right” he responds before mouthing a ‘they were in love with her’ at the audience which earned him some laughs. “so they ended up inviting all of us to this huge party that they throw every year and ya know, none of us really got the college experience so we were like well we have to go. And for legal reasons I’m going to say that the rest of this story is completely hypothetical so we all went to this like massive rager and were out until like 4 in the morning and had an 8 am call time to be on set the next day and we all show up ridiculously hung over, hypothetically of course, and when Mindy shows up to start shooting we’re all just exhausted laying on the floor of the break room and she walks in and observes all of our lifeless bodies on the ground and just goes ‘i don’t want to know’ and walks back out”

“Well now she knows” you added

“She does indeed, but I take it you lot had a great time”

“I loved it!” 

“ Speaking of love this next question is from user heartsgarfield, and they want to know... are you two dating?”

“well.... no” “mmm.... no we’re not” you and andrew chime in over each other.

“okay, you’re saying no” james responds

“correct” andrew replies

“can i be honest- I don’t believe you”

“we really aren’t” you add.

“there’s no way you two haven’t made out” James accuses and you get a momentary flashback to the earlier escapades in your dressing room.

“we haven’t” you insist, lying your ass off.

“why not? i mean you’re hot, you’re hot-” James gestures at the two of you.

“ya know, i’ve tried to make a move and she just tells me to get lost” Andrew jokes.

“wait so you have made a move”

“that’s not true, he’s a liar” you defend.

“see how mean she is to me” andrew earns a laugh from the audience.

“hold on let’s unpack this-”

“we’re just kidding we aren’t actually dating” you interrupt James.

“yea no we’re truly we’re not-” Andrew chimes in.

“you’re both suddenly getting very defensive” James accuses

“we’re not being defensive, we’re just saying we haven’t made out” you reply.

“i don’t believe you”

“I don’t care” you finish earning a round of laughter and applause from James and the audience.

“Alright we’ll be right back with more Late Late Show after the break!”

-

“Welcome back to the Late Late Show, we are here with Y/n Y/l/n and Andrew Garfield from the new hit series ‘This is the Life’ now streaming on Netflix. Now y/n” James directs his attention towards you.

“uh oh” you respond which gets some laughs.

“a little birdie told me, you’re quite the music fan. I’ve heard that being a bit of a music fanatic is quite your style”

“oh god”

“it seems that your fans have noticed this as well” James laughs, “and if you turn your attention to the screen we’d like to share this fan made video beautifully titled y/n y/l/n mentioning harry styles in interviews for a minute straight”

“oh no way” Andrew laughs from beside you.

You bury your head is your hands as the video plays of you talking about how much you loved harry styles and bringing him up every chance you got and you just keep your head down until the video ends.

James clears his throat “So are you a Harry Styles fan cause I couldn’t really tell how you felt about him from the video it’s a bit unclear”

“you’re sick James,” You shake your head at him.

“You know what would really be sick is if Harry Styles was here right now”

“James-” you warn.

“That would be really crazy”

“don’t- James I cannot mentally do this right now” You start panicking which sends Andrew into a fit of laughter and applause.

“You know we’re friends right-”

“James I’m being so serious-”

“like how crazy would it be if he was just right over there” James teases gesturing to stage left which makes everyone look.

“well he’s not there” James states gaining laughs from everyone as you place your hand over your heart to calm your nerves.

“god that was so stressful” you sigh.

“yea he’s not over there. and that’s because he’s right over here, ladies and gentlemen welcome tonight’s surprise musical guest Mr. Harry Styles!”

You think your heart might’ve stopped as Harry walked in waving to the audience before shaking hands with James, and then Andrew, and finally comes to greet you with a hug and a “Hi love, wonderful to meet you, you look amazing” and you return his sentiment before he takes a seat on the other side of you.

“so y/n how are you feeling?” James asks.

“i literally have no idea what’s happening” you respond.

“if it makes you feel any better, I’m quite the fan of you as well” harry comments.

“shut up”

“mm serious, I think I binged your show for like 3 days straight”

“i think i binged your album for like 3 days straight”

“See how lovely is that” James adds “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll be back with a perfomance from Harry Styles after the break!” James cuts to commercial as you continue to chat with Harry, unaware of the way that Andrew shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

-

There’s no way that that just happened. You essentially just made you late night show debut and got to meet a super hot celebrity crush all in one night and your still trying to process it all when you return to your dressing room, immediately removing your heels and crashing on the couch. The couch? Last time you checked, your dressing room didn’t have a couch and that’s when you look around and notice the rack decorated in a multitude of different suits and are starting to put 2 and 2 together before Harry just does it for you and walks into his dressing room startling you and causing you to jump up from the couch.

“m’sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you!” Harry states seemingly more concerned with the thought that he might’ve scared you rather than wondering why you were in his dressing room in the first place.

“I’m so sorry, I thought this was my dressing room. They took the name cards down and I didn’t realize that this wasn’t-”

“no worries, love. no man in their right mind is going to complain about finding a beautiful woman in his dressing room, but I’m sure your boyfriend is waiting on you”

“my boyfriend?” you question.

“don’t worry, I won’t go telling any tabloids on you but I’m just assuming that the guy who follows you around like a lovesick puppy would be your boyfriend” andrew.

“oh we aren’t- I mean he’s not my boyfriend” you respond, hopeful that Harry didn’t catch the tinge of sadness in your voice at the phrase ‘not my boyfriend’.

“does he know that?” he asks to which you just respond with a dry laugh and decide on changing the subject.

“so did you see my whole fangirl meltdown out there?”

“course not” he responds immediately before proceeding to go “James I can’t mentally handle this right now James I’m being so serious”

“oh god, that’s so embarrassing”

“I thought it was cute”

is harry styles flirting with you right now

“I should uh probably get going and-”

“have you got any plans later?”

“uh unless you count a date with my couch then no”

“well if your couch doesn’t mind, would you like to come to a party with me?”

did harry styles just ask you out?

-

next part

a/n: hot british men obsessed w y/n alert!!! sorry this part took so long guys i’ve been swamped with homework. anyways I’m picturing like 20-21 yr old harry for this story so like prince hair era but you can picture whichever one you want!

tags: @myrapottah​ , @redgetawaycar​ , @eatmyblackass​ , @rellasnowheenim​ , @raginghellfire​ , @percysaidnever​ , @twsssmlmaa​

[superjumpintomyheart]

Shiver/Frye: Shiver giving Frye forehead kisses? Maybe something with insecurities? Or just regular soft stuff!

Been seeing a lot of Frye slander :( especially the forehead jokes...

As a pearl stan myself i will NOT stand for frye forehead slander!!! she is beautiful and the influence from south asian and/or possibly Brazilian culture in her design is SO beautiful i love her and shiver loves her <3 [Shiver uses they/them pronouns here!]

“Do you think I should get bangs?” Frye asked, twirling her tentacle hair while looking in a handheld mirror. Shiver sat behind her, helping her with styling the back of her head after she became too frustrated with the double mirror technique. Their brows furrowed in confusion, continuing to tie the ribbon around Frye’s fluorescent locks.

“Bangs? I’m not sure,” they mused. This was the first time they had heard of the inkling wanting to change her hairstyle, it took them a moment to imagine it. “Do you want to get bangs?”

Recently, Frye had been constantly checking her social medias in excitement for the splatfest, but there was a group of people who were dedicated to making jokes about her appearance. Particularly, her forehead. It was a low branch to grab at really, they couldn’t say anything to her she hadn’t heard growing up. 

Many kids had tried to bring her down and make her feel bad about herself just because she looked different, the shape of her eyes, her long ears, her wide forehead... she clearly didn’t fit in. Her mother had taught her a very important lesson one day when she came home crying after a day of teasing had really gotten to her. Just because some people don’t find you beautiful in their eyes, doesn’t mean that the whole world agrees with them. 

That phrase had always stuck with her whenever she was facing bullying in school, and it gave her confidence to be her true self. However, with all the exposure of the Anarchy Newscast and Deep Cut as a band gaining popularity, more people had started to say those hurtful things about her. As much as she tried to remind herself those comments didn’t dictate her self worth, she couldn’t help but start to think she should change her appearance. 

“I don’t know, I was just kinda thinking about it cause a lotta people have been saying I should,” Frye responded, purposefully leaving out that people suggested the hairstyle to cover up her forehead. 

Shiver had seen the posts too, and they were concerned for their girlfriend’s wellbeing with all the nasty comments she was reading. They finished up with the ribbon and secured it well, admiring the work they had done with a satisfied smile. Though, they still wanted to help Frye know she didn’t need to conform to others’ standards of beauty when she was so beautiful already.

“As much as I think you would look great with bangs, and any other hairstyle-” they wrapped their arms around Frye’s waist, pulling her back into their arms as the inkling’s head rested on their shoulder. “I love how you look most when you express yourself, your hairstyle, your jewelry, your clothes. All of it is perfect if it’s how you want to show yourself to the world.”

They leaned over, their own tentacles falling in front of their face as they kissed the temple of Frye’s head. With the small yet bright smile on her face, Shiver was encouraged to continue with more kisses pressed along her hairline, between her eyebrows, right on the tip of her nose - which made her giggle - and finally with their lips meeting in a proper kiss. Each time the octoling kissed their girlfriend, it seemed to fill her with more joy and confidence.

“Do you really think so?” Frye asked with a small hint of doubt still in her voice.

“Of course I do. Besides, I’m the only one who gets to date you, shouldn’t my opinion matter most?” Shiver teased, winking at their love.

Frye giggled again, turning around fully so she could wrap her arms fully around her partner. She thought about the phrase her mom had said to her when she was young, she really had been right. Shiver was her whole world, and the world said she was beautiful. 

She sighed, relaxing into their embrace, “Thanks, Shiv.”

[stranger-marauders]

repaired

seven: translation nation

chapter summary: Steve and Kate both have to go to work, but Kate holds a hesitation.

chapter warnings: smuttish, language, making out, alcoholism/alcohol abuse, steve likes kate's boobies

word count: 3.3k

series masterlist | masterlist

WHEN KATE HAD finally arrived at Scoops, she wasn't quite expecting to have to translate a Russian communication with Robin.

Steve had told her a thousand times that she didn't have to help translate it. Kate, however, couldn't help but want to get involved. While somewhat of a secret of hers, she was totally a language dork—that was why she'd taken two in high school. While it had been different than translating either of the languages she spoke, she enjoyed the challenge Russian provided.

"So what languages do you speak?" Robin asked. Kate looked up at her with a confused look, but she elaborated. "Steve told me you speak four languages."

She scoffed, smiling as she shook her head. "Yeah, no, he's a liar. He counts Morse Code because of the alphabet."

"Dingus. What are the other two, then?"

"French and German."

"Wait, for real?" Robin asked, somewhat excitedly. "I speak French, too."

"Really?" Kate asked, matching her excitement. "Like actually, or enough to pass the class?"

"I read a lot of books and listen to tapes," she replied, trying to give Kate an idea about it. "I speak Italian and Spanish, too."

"Jesus, Italian?" Kate laughed. "How'd you manage Italian?"

"I've been playing French Horn since I was five, so I kinda—"

"Can you both stop talking and listen to the tape?" Dustin asked with an annoyed tone, rewinding the tape once again. He came to Scoops to decode it with Steve, not to let Robin and Kate get giddy over a language family that Russian didn't even belong to.

"Sorry, damn," Kate said sheepishly.

When they listened to it again, Robin twisted back around to face him. "Okay, that last part. Just one more time."

"Okay."

As Dustin rewinded the tape, both girls prepared to listen again for anything that stuck out to them.

"Dly-nna-ya," Kate said, drawing out the syllables. She wrote out the way she found it sounded in her notebook, staring at the word. "Obviously it starts with a 'D.'"

"D," Dustin repeated as he moved to the board. "The... The chair. The chair-looking thingy."

"Yeah, okay."

"L," Kate continued, looking at her paper as Robin started transcribing it down in the Cyrillic alphabet.

Once they'd gotten the rest of the phrase, Robin and Kate leaned out of the breakroom window to inform Steve of the good news. "We've got our first sentence."

"Oh, seriously?" Steve said, scooping ice cream into a cone.

"Nedelya dlinnaya," Kate replied.

"The week is long," Robin translated in a terrible Russian accent.

"Well, that's thrilling."

"I know, but progress," Robin said, slipping out the window.

"You still feeling okay?" Steve asked, touching her hand before Kate could slip out behind her.

She nodded, shrugging and smiling. "Yeah, I'm fine. Perfect. Having the time of my life in there. I think I'm gonna take Russian in college."

Steve chuckled. "All right, don't overwork yourself. Love you."

She saluted him with two fingers before she slipped out the window herself. "Love you, too, comrade." Before she could close the window shutters, however, she looked to the customers that Steve had been serving: her sister and Max Mayfield.

"Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream."

"Thanks."

Kate only stared at Max and El in slight shock. Her sister was definitely not supposed to be anywhere near the mall, never mind inside of it to get free ice cream from her boyfriend.

"Wait a second. Are you even allowed to be here?" Steve asked, looking more specifically to El.

"No," Kate said from behind him, trying to get a closer look at her sister. She hadn't even realized that El and Max were friends now.

Both girls giggled as they ran away, and Kate only stared. She hadn't even noticed the horrified expression on Steve's face. He should've known that El wasn't supposed to be there, and now he had just given her ice cream? Then again, if he hadn't given her ice cream, what would she have done to him? Not only was there the opportunity for El to blow his brains out with her mind, but Max could also be really, really mean to him—

"We didn't see her here, got it?" Kate finally asked, looking to him with an unreadable expression.

He nodded, scratching the back of his neck. "Mhm, yep. Got it."

As Steve closed the gate to the ice cream shop entrance, locking it shut, he started talking about the Russian tape again. "I mean, it just... it just can't be right."

"It's definitely right, Steven."

"Honestly, I think it's great news," Dustin said.

"How is this great news?" Steve asked. "I mean, so much for being American heroes. It's total nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Dustin replied. "It's too specific."

"It has to be a type of code," Kate elaborated, mostly to Steve.

"What do you mean, a code?"

"Like a super-secret spy code," Dustin replied.

"A code that would be useful for Ruskies, anyway," Kate added.

"That's a total stretch."

"I don't know, is it?" Robin asked.

"Both of you are buying into this?" Steve asked, unconvinced.

Robin sighed. "Listen, just for kicks, let's entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What'd you think they were gonna say, 'Fire the warhead at noon?'"

"Exactly," Dustin said.

"I mean, a code makes much more sense than anything else," Kate said. "Like, why would you not use a code to cover up some type of sensitive Soviet information?"

"Exactly."

"So I guess that confirms your suspicion," Kate said.

"Evil Russians."

"I can't believe I'm about to agree with this strange child, but yeah, totally, evil Russians," Robin said.

"So how do we crack it?"

"We can try translating the rest of it tomorrow and hopefully a pattern emerges," Kate replied.

"A pattern," Dustin repeated. "Right, like maybe 'silver cat' is a meeting place?"

"Or a person," Robin said.

"Or a weapon."

"It's probably gonna take a super genius to crack it, but..."

"We've gotten this far," Kate said. She opened her mouth to say something to Steve as she turned to the side, but she quickly realized he was no longer beside her. "Hey, where's Steve?"

The group of three quickly turned around to find Steve standing in front of the mechanical horse near Scoops that seemed to operate all day, every day.

"Hey, Steve," Kate called as he started to pull change out of his pockets. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, it's a quarter. I need... Do you have a quarter?"

Kate chuckled as the three ran over to him. She dug in her pocketbook for a simple quarter, moving closer and closer to him.

"Sure you're tall enough for that ride?"

"Quarter!" Steve shouted as Kate threw one to him, and he put the coin into the machine as quickly as possible.

Once the music started to play, she knew exactly what Steve had been going on about.

"You need help getting up, little Stevie?"

"Would you just shut up and listen?" Steve said as Dustin chuckled.

After the song played for a moment, "Holy shit."

"It's the music," Kate said as Dustin pulled out the tape from his bag and played it.

"I don't understand," Robin said.

"It's the exact same song on the recording," Dustin explained.

"Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?"

"Indiana Flyer? I don't... I don't think so," Steve said, looking to the name of the horse. "This code, it... didn't come from Russia."

"It came from here," Kate said, and she could only stare in horror at the horse as it rocked to the music.

When Kate and Steve arrived back at the cabin, they found Max and El in her bedroom.

This had been the second time today that they'd found the two girls together again. Kate couldn't think of a time that Max and El had been alone together before then, and suddenly it appeared like they were best friends or something.

She turned to Steve, putting her ear against El's green bedroom door to hear them better.

"Is Mike a good kisser?"

"I don't know. He's my first boyfriend."

"Ex-boyfriend."

Kate's mouth fell open.

Steve gave her a worried expression. "What?"

"Mike and El broke up," Kate whispered almost inaudible.

"Oh shit," Steve said somewhat loudly, not even bothering to whisper.

Before Kate could reply to him, Max called out to them from inside El's room. "Hey, who the hell is that?"

"Just me and Steve," Kate said after giving Steve a pointed look, and El opened the door with her powers. They stood in the doorway awkwardly, trying to act as if they weren't listening to them.

"Oh," Max said sheepishly. If she would've known it was Kate, she wouldn't have been so brisk. "Hey."

"You guys okay?" Steve asked them, leaning against the doorframe. He had a hand on his hip, which perfectly accentuated his Scoops uniform (Kate wished she would've had a camera).

"Yeah, Popeye, we're doing great," Max replied, earning a giggle from El.

"Do you even know who Popeye is?" Kate asked, giving her sister a confused look.

She hesitated to respond. "No."

"Great. That's great," Steve said, moving to Kate's room as he sighed.

Kate shook her head, sighing slightly. "Okay, we'll, uh... leave you two alone. Don't, uh... do anything stupid?"

The two girls both smiled innocently at her. Almost too innocently for comfort. "We won't."

Kate closed the door behind her, which immediately led to the giggles of the two girls as "Angel" continued to blare in the background. In a way, Kate's heart warmed at the thought that Max and her sister were now friends. It seemed like an odd duo, but she figured that both of them probably got so tired of hanging out with all of those boys all the time. A friend like Max would be good for El: she needed someone that would help her speak her mind, to help her break out of Mike's shell (because Kate was very, very tired of her dad being so upset about Mike). Kate also liked Max a lot more than Mike, so she would take what she could get.

Whenever Kate walked into her room, shutting the door behind her, she found Steve had already put on another pair of shorts, digging through her drawers for a shirt. "Well, she's taking it better than I could have ever imagined."

"No shit," Steve replied, still looking for a shirt.

Kate's lips tugged upward as she moved to lean against her dresser, watching him as he dug through her drawers. She liked to admire him whenever he wasn't looking, mostly because she knew his ego didn't need any boosting when it came to how attractive he was. She loved to trace over his freckles with her eyes, his happy trail. The shorts he had on now sat low on his waist, leaving a bit less to the imagination. She, however, pushed it to the back of her mind—she, currently, was much more invested in her sister's relationship. "She obviously broke up with him. Figures. She was too good for him anyway."

When Steve finally found a shirt of his, he put it on top of her dresser, then put a hand on her jaw. "You done talking about the kids now?"

She gave him a pointed look, holding her hand over his. "If your sister just dumped her boyfriend, you'd be talking about it, too."

He chuckled, kissing her as he rubbed his thumb against her cheek. When her tongue slid over his, he sighed, putting one of his hands on her waist, moving under her tank top and flannel to touch her skin instead. 

She slid her flannel off of her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck again, melting into another kiss as he pinned her against the wall. He hoisted her up, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist. Out of breath, he released her lips and began to make his way down her neck, making light nibbles as he moved. When she let out a soft moan when he landed at a particular spot, he smirked for half a second before moving back to the same spot, biting and sucking at it.

He moved back to her lips whenever she'd finally giggled, making him exhale heavily. His hand spanned the width of her cheek, fingertips grazing her hairline whilst his thumb managed to pull at her bottom lip, eager for more.

The loose change and random books on her desk fell to the floor whenever Steve picked her up and moved her on top of it, legs spreading for him to fit in between. One of his hands roamed up her thighs, pushing at the soft skin there until he hitched a knee up and over his hip, pressing himself into her. Kate broke the kiss for only a second to slip her tank top over her head, leaving her just in a bra and shorts.

Just for a moment, he pulled away, chest heaving, pressing their foreheads together. "They're on the other side of that wall."

"And?"

"I'm not gonna be able to stop if we keep going, Kathy."

She stifled a laugh. "Okay."

With her words, Steve shrugged it off and moved down to her chest, kissing over the lace triangles that covered her chest. He looked back up to her again, almost as if he were asking for her approval. She nodded at him, and he unhooked her bra, leaving her topless as he held one of her breasts in his hand and his tongue traced over her nipple.

She moaned softly, immediately running her fingers deep through his hair, tugging in appreciation as she smiled at the sound it pulled from him. His eyes fluttered shut as he continued to kiss, nip, and suck at her breasts, his hands skimming up and down her sides before they settled on her ass. She wrapped her legs around his waist again, noticing the hardness pressed up against her thigh. She moved her hips slightly, making him let out a small moan.

As Steve moved to unbutton her shorts, the front door slapped open and shut, clunky footsteps seeming to follow.

Her father had come home, and he was absolutely pissed.

Kate quickly pushed Steve off of her, throwing on the t-shirt Steve had thrown on her dresser, and Steve quickly dug through the drawer he'd claimed in Kate's dresser, quickly throwing on a shirt of his own. Kate quickly rushed out of her bedroom, finding her father stumbling to El's bedroom door, a wine bottle in hand. "Hey! When I say three inches, three—"

When he slammed the green door open, he found Max and El laying on the floor, reading two magazines.

"Do you knock? Jeez!" Max shouted.

"Yeah! Jeez!" El repeated.

"Oh, hey," Hopper slurred.

When Steve had followed behind her, finally putting on a shirt, he watched Hopper just as Kate had. When he finally looked at her face, his heart dropped: she looked horrified.

It had been a long time since Jim Hopper had stumbled home late after a long night of drinking. Kate couldn't remember a time when her father had done it since they'd added El to their family, and it certainly hadn't been something she missed. The thought of him driving home like this from downtown made a chill run down her spine. She could only stare in horror as her father only made the situation with the two girls in El's room even more embarrassing and awkward.

"I'm sorry," Hopper said, trying to make himself sound more put together. "I thought that, uh—"

"Mike's not here," Max said knowingly.

"Max wanted to have... a sleepover," El said. "Is that... okay?"

"Yeah?" Hopper said. "Yeah, yeah. Yeah." He looked at Max. "Your parents know about it?"

"Yup," she replied, popping the "P."

"Uh, yeah, it's cool," Hopper said. "That's... That's really cool."

Whenever he stopped talking, an awkward silence hung in the air.

"Did you need something?" Max asked.

"No, no," Hopper replied, almost in a daze. "Uh, I'll leave. I'll just let you... I'll leave you..." He stuttered until he finally shut the door, letting the two girls enjoy their time together. Whenever he noticed Steve and Kate's presence, he turned to them as the two only stared at him in horror.

"Hey, you two," Hopper said, smiling drunkenly.

"What happened?" Kate asked, eyes wide. Her father hadn't been this drunk in a long time. 

"Oh, nothin'. Joyce stood me up at Enzo's."

Kate sighed. She hadn't even realized Hopper had asked Joyce out on a date, let alone the fact that they were going on one tonight (or didn't go on, she assumed). "Dad..."

"It's not a big deal. I'm home with you now, so it's all good."

She frowned. "Dad, I don't... are you okay?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," her father answered, sitting and reclining back into his chair. "Just glad to be home with you kids."

"Dad—"

"Why don't you two come sit," Hopper said, turning the TV on to a Magnum P.I. rerun. "We can enjoy ourselves."

Before Kate could object, Steve grabbed her hand, pulling her to the couch. "Sure."

"What the hell're you—"

"Just trust me, okay?" Steve said, sitting down on the couch. 

Kate looked to Steve, almost not believing what he was doing. She knew they needed to just leave the room, hide out in her room or something. Even though Steve's parents were home, she wasn't even opposed to going to his house instead. Anywhere would be better than right here right now, and she was absolutely sure of it. Hopper would eventually get better if they just left him alone, that or he wouldn't get any worse.

Whenever he shot her with the puppy dog eyes, though, she sighed, sitting on the couch next to him.

After a couple of hours, Kate had finally fallen asleep. Since then, she had curled into Steve, leaning her head on his chest. He hadn't moved a muscle since then—he knew how much she struggled with falling asleep. He didn't want to risk waking her up, even if it meant he and Hopper were left alone.

Hopper finally cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "You're a good kid, Steve."

He almost hadn't heard what he said. He could've sworn he could've imagined it. "What?"

"I said that you're a good kid."

Steve hesitated. "Really?"

"As much as it pains me to say it, yeah," Hopper said, shrugging slightly. "Out of any of 'em she could've picked, I'm glad it was you. There's not a son of a bitch in this town that gets her like you do."

Steve smiled. "That means a lot, sir."

Hopper looked at him with an unreadable expression. "You, uh… remember what you promised me last year?"

Steve almost laughed at the idea. How could he not remember? it had been that night when she had gotten so hurt, and she had been laying in Jonathan Byers's room, passed out from all the blood she'd lost. After she had almost died, Hopper had asked him to keep her safe, no matter what happened. Back then, it had seemed like a promise that would be difficult to keep, but it truly hadn't been. Not yet.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember."

He hesitated. "Don't forget it."

Steve nodded. "I wasn't planning on it."

Hopper stood up, clapping him on the shoulder before walking into his room for the night.

That night, as well as the night she'd gotten so hurt, would be something he'd never forget.

next chapter

taglist:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5298 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellacauseshebroke @blackbirddaredevil23 @mads-weasley @ilovemarauders @pearlstiare @liableperfections @khaylin27 @girlwiththerubyslippers @cyarikaaa @flicksturz

[theanonymousloser]

jailbreak pt 2

you can read pt 1 here

pairing: gally x fem!reader

requested: no

word count: 1.2k

warnings: harassment, douchebags, dumb boys, kinda cringy tbh

description: gally accidentally scares the reader and in turn one of her biggest fears is revealed

The morning after their game of jailbreak, Y/n awoke and got ready for the day. She headed to breakfast.

"Hey Fry," she said as Frypan put some pancakes on her plate.

"Hi, Y/n. Sleep well?" He smiled.

"As well as I could, considering I was surrounded by snoring boys." She said, her smile faltering the tiniest bit.

Frypan gave her a smile of pity and she turned, scanning the room for an empty seat.

She noticed a seat across from Gally which was empty and walked over.

"This seat taken?" She smiled.

"Nope." He said, his mouth full of food.

Y/n rolled her eyes at his manners and sat down. He finished his mouthful of food quickly, before beginning to speak.

"You're stuck with me today," Gally said with a cheeky smile.

It was true because she was so new, she had been going between different jobs to decide which one she would do.

"Ugh, I know, I don't know how I'll get through the day." She said, feigning annoyance.

"What? I thought you would be excited to be with me. Well, maybe not excited, but at least not-"

"Gally! Calm down, I'm only joking."

"What?"

"It was a joke. I am excited to be with you today."

"Oh."

The two began chatting about random things. Their favorite color, favorite joke, etc. They quickly finished their food.

"I can take that over for you," Gally said, pointing to her plate. He stood up and picked up his own.

"No, it's alright, I'll go with you." She said, standing up. The truth was, she was sitting next to someone who had given her weird glances throughout the whole meal. She didn't want to be left alone with him.

"You sure?" Gally asked.

"Mhmm" she said, with one more look at the boy who had been beside her. Gally seemed to understand what was happening because he dropped the subject.

The two handed their plates to the dish washers, and Gally grabbed Y/n's hand, pulling her out the door.

"Where are we going" Y/n laughed, "isn't the workshop over there?" (Idk what the work place is called and I'm too lazy to Google it rn)

"It is, but I have a surprise for you first." He pulled her around to the back of the Homestead and stopped at a door.

"Isn't this just a storage closet?" Y/n asked, confused.

"It was," Gally said.

"Was? What do you mean was?"

"Okay. So you're the only girl here-"

"Really? I hadn't noticed."

"Just let me finish. You're the only girl here, but you're stuck sleeping with the guys."

"Ew, why'd you phrase it like that?"

"Holy shuck, I'm trying to do something nice for you."

"Sorry, sorry, go ahead."

"So, because you're a girl, I talked with Alby and we decided to make you a room."

"Oh my gosh! Really?" Y/n said, a huge smile on her face.

"Yeah" Gally blushed, scratching the back of his neck, his confidence slowly slipping away.

"Thank you thank you thank you!" She said, hugging him.

"Um, uh, yeah so that'll be our project today. Moving you in and building a bed." Gally said, clearly feeling very awkward.

.....

Y/n was a quick learner and they got a lot of work done fairly quickly.

Gally left the room to get something, leaving Y/n alone with the other builders. She had worked up a sweat after a while and decided to put her hair up.

She flipped her head down to make it easier to grab it all. As she was bent over, one of the boys walked over and slapped her butt, causing the other boys to laugh. She stood up immediately and finished putting her hair up. She was fuming, glaring at all of the boys. The problem was, she had no idea who had done it.

Suddenly, Gally walked in. He froze and looked around the room. The boys were still laughing to themselves and Y/n had sat on a chair, pulling her knees to her chest.

"Y/n, can I talk to you outside?" Gally asked, noticing her discomfort.

Y/n simply shook her head, not wanting to stand up to give the boys another chance to strike.

"Y/n," Gally repeated.

"No." She said in a weak tone.

"You all, out."

Some tried to protest, saying they were in the middle of something but Gally would have none of it.

"Now." He said, raising his voice.

After they had left, Gally walked over to her. She turned away and he stopped.

"What-what happened?"

"Was that just your whole plan? Huh? Get me to trust you so that your little builder friends could have fun harassing me and slapping my butt? Is that what this all is?"

"What the shuck are you talking about?" Gally said, extremely confused.

"Oh so now you're playing dumb, huh? I wasn't born yesterday, Gally."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I went to measure something in your room. I told you that. What happened?"

"I um. I was trying to put my hair up," she began, motioning to her ponytail. "And then one of the others, I didn't see which one, slapped my butt!"

Tears were threatening to fall.

"You're sure you don't know who did it?" Gally asked, his jaw clenched. Y/n nodded her head, afraid that if she said a word, she would start crying.

"Okay, umm." Gally began, trying to figure out what to do, "Let's go talk to Alby."

He held out his hand to her and she took it. Even when they started walking, neither one of the two let go. As they passed by the other builders, Gally glared at them, while Y/n leaned her head on his arm.

.....

Alby decided that he would hold a meeting with all of the leaders plus Y/n and the other builders to figure out what to do.

The builders took turns one by one being asked questions as they stood in the middle of the room.

"Why is she even trying to be a builder?" One boy asked, catching everyone by surprise.

"Excuse me?" Y/n said, standing up.

"I mean, she's a girl for shuck's sake. She should be washing dishes or cooking or something."

All eyes were immediately on Y/n who simply stomped over to the boy and slapped him across the face.

There were a few gasps heard around the room. Gally stood up. The boy simply smirked.

"See that there? That fire? That's why I did it." He said. He seemed proud of himself, like he had just won an award, no like he had just sentenced himself to death in the maze.

Gally raced toward him, full speed. Y/n quickly stopped him, she didn't want Gally to do something he would regret.

A few guys walked over to the builder and dragged him out of the room. They put him into the Slammer until it was dark.

.....

"Thank you, Gally," Y/n said, sitting by him at the bonfire that night.

"For- for what?" He asked, confused.

"For everything." The two looked at each other and smiled.