#how do you do fellow kids: college edition

[rubyuji]

Restless (Lee Chan) ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ ☕️

“OK enough, as far as I know, you know way more about me than I do about you. So, tell me about yourself?” 𓂃 ࣪˖

Genre: Fluff (this is just the sweetest thing ever, I can’t)

AU: Nonidol!au, College!au

Pairing: Dino x afab!reader

Warnings: none

Synopsis: After a week of traveling for school, Chan was ready to get home and crash onto his bed for the weekend. The problem? He was locked out for the night as his parents and younger brother had gone to visit their relatives on short notice, so he turned to his only option, you.

Note: Another recycled fic from my drafts that I never really finished ;; I’m popping out fics left and right atp but this one has a lack of proofreading and editing. Happy reading again guys, don’t forget to like + reblog!

Word Count: 2.8k

“Bye Ms Kim! Bye, everyone! It was so nice to be with you all in Japan, until our next competition. You all did well” Chan bowed toward his teachers and fellow students as he left the bus, bag slung over his shoulder.

Once he was on the pavement, Chan sighed and hastily walked into his building, ready to pass out on his bed. He clicks the elevator button to the floor he lives on while fidgeting with the new keychain he had bought as a souvenir. The ride was taking longer than usual for some reason.

When the elevator dinged, indicating that he had arrived, Chan eagerly stepped out and headed for the door of his family’s apartment. Instead of him being able to open it easily with the password, the lock buzzes and the sound causes Chan to frown in confusion. Did his family decide to change the house code while he was away?

As Chan was about to try one more time, his brother had texted him about how they had gone to see family and forgot he would arrive that day, adding that wouldn’t be back until the next morning.

Seeing this, Chan runs a hand through his hair and huffs. He was so ready to get the rest he badly needed until an idea came to mind.

Chan turns towards the apartment next to his family’s and grins, you were probably home, right? A girl who was his age, living independently next to his family, probably wouldn’t have many places to be, so he tried the last bit of his luck.

You hear your doorbell ring and wonder who would be at your door late into the evening. As per your paranoid self, you bring a knife to the door, being a girl and living alone with her cat wasn’t exactly the ideal situation to be in, especially at this hour.

You hesitantly peek into your peephole and your jaw falls slack as you struggle to open the door. What the hell was Chan doing at your doorstep? You thought his family would be at home like usual, the Lee family never really went anywhere and would often invite you over so this came as a surprise.

“Chan? That’s new, what brings you here?” You squint at the boy and he chuckles awkwardly, a hand scratching his cheek.

He had his backpack still on his back and a small stroller next to him, he looked like he had just come back from the airport. ‘Oh, I forgot he flew to Japan last week for a dance competition,’ you thought to yourself.

“My family forgot about me arriving today and left to go see my relatives without me, so uh, I had no other option? Unless you’re uncomfortable with me staying for a night, I can just call up one of my friends to let me crash at theirs” Chan cringed at his own words.

Seungkwan lived an hour outside the main city and Vernon lived in a one-bedroom apartment that barely had anything but a bed and a place for his pet iguana. Mingyu was at his sister’s place, and Soonyoung had gone with his family, the house already cramped enough with two grown kids and their parents. He genuinely had no other option.

“What? No, it’s fine. I’ve known you and your family since the day I moved in, it’s the least I can do since you guys have been nice to me. Now come in,” You moved aside so Chan could shuffle in, and in his head, he made a mental note to thank you later when he wasn’t as tired from the jet lag.

You helped him move his things into the guest room before getting him settled. He looked exhausted, and as much as your crush on the boy had started to take in how adorable he was, you couldn’t afford to scare him off when he seemed like he had no other place to go.

“You can use the shower, I have extra products for guests in the second drawer so you’re free to use that as you like. I was making dinner so you’re also welcome to join me in case you haven’t eaten yet. Make yourself at home,” You offered Chan a shy smile and the boy felt his heart skip a beat. Have you always been that pretty?

Chan snapped himself out of his daze and nodded before smiling back at you. “Thanks, I seriously owe you a lot for letting me stay the night. I’m sorry for coming up on short notice,” he says bashfully. You were very kind and the fact that you even offered him dinner was crazy enough as it is.

“Hey, it’s no biggie. I don’t have guests over that often so it’s nice to have someone around now and then. Call this our first unofficial sleepover if you will,” You laugh and Chan can’t help but feel flustered around you. You were so calm despite everything, it was almost impressive to him.

You put your hands together and excuse yourself, making Chan stand up and smile at you once more before you leave the room.

“Towels are in that cabinet under the desk, I think you already have the password here since it’s just my cat’s name in lowercase letters,” Chan once again nods as he watches your figure disappear into the rest of the apartment.

The silence welcomes Chan as he turns to observe every inch of the room. It was very minimal with a simple white desk, a few pictures on display, and two candles off to the side. A white double-door closet stood at the opposite end of the bed, a plant in a gray pot right next to it.

A part of the wall had postcards from places he assumed you had gone to, as well as some awards from your school. It was nice how the room still had a few elements of you in it despite it being a guest room, he would’ve never known that you had topped your class or that you had been to France.

Grabbing a towel from the cabinet and some clothes from his bag, Chan then made his way over to your bathroom. As he was passing the kitchen, he saw your back and got a whiff of whatever you were making for dinner. It smelled like meat and ramyeon, something he had missed dearly during his entire trip to Japan.

Chan enters the bathroom quietly to avoid distracting you and looks at how organized everything is, noting that the room itself is also well-lit.

‘Maybe I should take a selfie in here later,’ he thought while checking himself in the mirror, only to grimace at his appearance shortly after. He looked beat despite the flight only being three hours.

You hear the shower turn on from the outside and continue to finish up plating the food, your cat rubbing herself against you as you bend down to pet her.

“It’s a bit weird, but you don’t mind having him around right?” Luna meows as if saying ‘Not at all’ and you chuckle.

“Well Luna, you already know how much I talk about him and it’s no surprise,” you tell your cat in a whisper. The shower halts and you bring the food to the coffee table in front of your TV, turning Netflix on while waiting for Chan.

“Oh, no way! Ramyeon and meat? You made this for me?” You hear Chan say dramatically as he clutches his chest. The reaction causes you to laugh as the boy plops himself on the couch beside you.

Seeing Chan in your peripheral almost made you choke on your bowl because of how good he looked. He was wearing a white shirt and grey sweats, so simple yet he looked godly.

“Not for you but I made extra ok! Wash the dishes with me at least since you still are technically a guest,” you joke.

Chan hums without another word and that was when you choked on your food. Wow, it was that easy? You thought you were going crazy. He looks at you oddly and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Sorry, I was shocked at how you agreed so quickly,” Chan laughed at your words before taking in the last bit of food on his plate, collecting all the dishes once you leaned back on the couch and sighed in contentment.

“Y/n, you said you’d do the dishes with me!” Chan whined from the kitchen. After opening your eyes and huffing, you then make your way into the kitchen and see Chan’s back in front of the sink.

“I have a dishwasher by the way, we can just rinse these off and put them in,” you say as a matter of fact.

Chan turns toward you with a huff and watches you open the space beside him, seeing you put in the rest of the dishes and turning them on.

“Remind me never to do dishes over here ever again” Chan frowns, a pout set on his lips as you wipe your hands dry.

“I’m honestly way too bored to watch something right now, do you mind just chatting for a bit? I’m too full,” the two of you walk into the living room once again before the boy hums with a smile. You sit on the couch and throw a blanket over the two of you.

Chan shifts to make himself more comfortable, suddenly noticing a very obvious lump under the blanket that slowly starts making its way toward you. “Luna, what did I say about hiding under the blanket? You’re so naughty.”

Grabbing your cat from under the covers, you then put her on top of your lap, her blue eyes staring straight into Chan’s soul. “Does she always stare? Her eyes are very, blue. It’s like she’s staring straight through me” he says, and takes a closer look at your cat.

“Sorry about her, I haven’t had anyone over in weeks so Luna’s fascinated by a new presence at the house” You giggle while petting her. Chan feels his heart do flips, seeing you in your most natural state made him fall for you just a tad bit more if that was even possible.

“Anyway, where have you been? Your parents told me you were in Japan or something. How was it there?” You grin.

You had been to Japan quite a few times, from what Chan could tell. If he could vaguely remember, one of the postcards in your room said Osaka and Kyoto, even Kobe.

“Ah yeah, we had our most recent competition there, it was great. A lot of sightseeing and whatnot for the most, I wish I went outside of Tokyo but we couldn’t leave so I had to settle with just exploring the city,” Chan breathes out, recalling the memories he made with his friends Yeonjun and Changbin.

“That sounds so cool! I’ve been to Tokyo loads of times and honestly, city life is way too busy for me. I think visiting the more provincial areas is great if you want the feeling of peace.” Chan noticed a bit of a distant look in your eyes and wondered if you were thinking about your memories in Japan as well.

Luna suddenly meows and jumps onto Chan’s lap, causing the two of you to jolt up out of surprise. “Huh, she’s usually weary of everyone. This is a first for her,” you say with a soft smile.

Chan pets Luna with a soft smile on his face, the image making your heart flutter. It was impossible to contain your crush on the male any longer after everything that happened, hell, even your cat liked him as much as you did.

“Well, hi there Luna. You’re adorable and look just like your owner. Y/n, you legitimately like your cat, she’s like a mini clone of yours.” Your cheeks heat up at Chan’s stare, the male looking between you and the cat as his eyes linger a bit too long on you.

“OK enough, as far as I know, you know way more about me than I do about you. So, tell me about yourself?” Chan says after a minute of silence.

You jolt at his voice and look at him with an awkward smile. There wasn’t much to say about yourself if you were being honest, you couldn’t gauge anything interesting enough to tell the boy.

“I can’t think of anything, I’m a pretty boring person,” Chan frowns at your words. Boring? That didn’t seem right to him, there was probably more to you than you think, he just had to get it out of you somehow.

“Are you sure? Y/n, you’ve gone to Japan and a lot of other countries, judging from your guest bedroom alone, and I think that’s interesting enough as it is.” You blush at Chan’s words, this was the first time someone had ever asked about you, and you felt grateful towards him.

“Thank you, Chan, that’s honestly super sweet of you to say. I just traveled a lot from a young age since I was offered the opportunity to, but for now, I’m just taking a break from it all. Moving to different places in such a fast-paced environment becomes exhausting once you get older,” You play with your hands and recall every single place you’ve been to.

Traveling and moving was all you had ever known since early childhood, due to your parents moving around a lot because of their jobs and because they were always just super busy people in general. One day, you just got so used to all of it that settling down for the first time in college felt foreign to you.

“That’s honestly really cool, I’ve only ever known the practice room and the music so dancing is like my version of that. Now that I was offered the opportunity to travel, I didn’t realize it would be so overwhelming, especially as a first-timer.” Chan smiles comfortingly.

He truly admired you a lot. After getting a feel of what your life was like, before settling down into one place, he was intrigued by your way of life. How things worked after you had gotten used to it all, and how you coped with the amount of change you were faced with.

“I guess we still do have quite a lot to learn from each other then. You have a lot to tell me, and I think that’s very clear based on our current ordeal.” Chan laughs.

You shrug your shoulders and throw him a sheepish smile. No one had ever been curious about you, or how you lived your life, unlike how Chan did. It felt refreshing to be able to share your life experiences and what you had gone through with someone who listened.

Sure, you did have your friends who were also curious about you, and that's how your friendships even came to be, but Chan was different.

You always thought you’d only have a few chance encounters with the boy next door, but you never thought you’d have him sitting beside you on your couch as you go over your life with him.

“I never really got the chance to talk about my life as much, but you were willing to listen to me like it was nothing. If I continue yapping though, we’d take forever and I don’t want to keep you up any longer since you are still tired from your flight,” You say, and look at Chan beside you.

A pout stays on his face, but he had totally forgotten about the jet lag and how badly he wanted to just pass out after spending time with you.

Chan truly couldn’t get enough of you, and he starts to feel a crush blooming in his chest, not like he had one already, he just never acted on his feelings towards you.

“Don’t be like that, I live next door so you’re technically welcome to come over anytime. Now go on, I’ll let you rest up. I’ll be in my room if you need me ok? Goodnight Chan,” You tilt your head a bit as you greet him goodnight, and Chan swears he felt his heart melt right at that very moment. It didn't help that your adorable cat was rubbed up against your leg too.

“I will, thanks again for letting me stay Y/n. Goodnight, sleep well,” Chan breathes out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. You grin and turn in the direction of your room, Luna following closely behind you.

Chan was restless when he came but with your presence alone, it seems like he could stay up for a whole week if he could.

© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen ff #svt imagines #svt angst #svt fluff #svt ff #seventeen au #svt au #seventeen blurbs #seventeen drabbles #svt blurbs #svt drabbles #seventeen fic #svt fic #kpop imagines #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop au #kpop ff #kpop drabbles #kpop blurbs #dino imagines #dino angst #dino fluff #dino ff #dino blurbs #dino drabbles #seventeen dino

[athena-rocks]

What are your headcanons for Athena’s relationship and dynamic with her godly siblings?

I’m gonna preface this with Athena has a looooot of siblings due to Zeus being, y’know, Zeus, so I’m only going to talk about the Olympians. Don’t worry that’s still six Gods, relationships and dynamics and for some of them, I’ve got a lot to say.

AND I AM SO HYPE TO TALK ABOUT THIS I WAS KICKING MY FEET GETTING THIS ASK SO THANK YOU ANON!!

So who will I be going over in this. They are:

- Artemis

- Apollo

- Dionysus

- Hermes

- Hephaestus

- Ares

Artemis🏹:

They definitely get on well, both being trained in fighting, stamina and strategy, both being virgin goddesses. Their main issues are that Athena is very much so city and Artemis is very much so not city, but not so much so for either that it causes some drama. They’re dynamic can be described as very chill, they get along well together and are friends.

Apollo☀️:

Similar to his sister Apollo gets along well enough with Athena, but they do have a bit more drama than Artemis and Athena. The Trojan war mainly is a point of some bad feeling between the two but they’re polite enough that they can get along well enough together. In terms of dynamic it’s basically like two siblings that moved far away from each other and when they meet up on Christmas they’re just like “So, how’s college?” “I have three kids and a diploma.” “Oh yeah.” Not besties but they can get on well enough.

Dionysus🍷:

Now I do have a few interesting points here. One, Dionysus’ wife Ariadne was abandoned by Theseus, the hero of Athens, so it’s likely a point of some contention between the two. Though I don’t think they’re enemies, Athena is very stressed Dionysus is just never stressed he probably helps her out, I saw somewhere the idea that Athena goes to Dionysus’ bar to relax and I think that’s pretty cool, if anyone knows who that came from please tell me and I’ll edit this post to credit them! Dynamic, youngest and oldest. Chill and super stressed.

Hermes🪽:

(Don’t question the blue I don’t know how the fuck you get other colours.) Joined by their fellow connection for diplomacy they likely get along well. Hermes is described as a diplomat in the Odyssey when going to Calypso’s island to tell her Zeus orders her to release Odysseus. Athena for obvious reasons will get along well with someone who often acts as a diplomat and messenger, and their shared helping out of Odysseus definitely helps. But… as an underdog Hermes is often characterised as a prankster of sorts. And pranksters love rule followers, which Athena is. She’s likely the subject of many of his pranks, much to her displeasure, but she’s patient and can often put up with him. Though she will sometimes snap.

In terms of dynamic its low energy and high energy siblings. Pretty simple.

Now… the big two.

Hephaestus🔥:

(Again ignore the colour pls, I’m saving red for Ares.) Well… Hephaestus… yeah… I don’t think they’re friends. Obviously. Hephaestus’ attempt to assault Athena is quite frankly disgusting. Not only is she clearly not into him or wanting that but there’s no way to think she is when she’s a virgin goddess. I can’t make any jokes here, it’s not funny. Maybe after a few millennia she’d potentially partially forgive him, she’d go to his forge when necessary herself instead of sending someone else, but the idea of them being close friends ever again is not something I think possible.

Dynamic? Siblings that cut contact. I’ll leave it at that.

Ares🗡️:

Alright! Last one! Let’s do it!

Their relationship is in my opinion very interesting. They are naturally enemies in many ways, god of violent warfare and goddess of strategic warfare. They are opposed. But I think that there’s a lot more to it.

Athena is Zeus’ favourite. She’s the perfect child, the golden child. Ares is Zeus’ least favourite child, for not much reason either. Athena didn’t choose to be the favourite and Ares doesn’t deserve to be treated the way he is, and this all cumulates into a divide between the two, a wedge in a relationship that didn’t even get a chance to form. They have their moments, one helping the other rarely. They hold resentment to each other, but still are siblings.

I’d call their dynamic the golden child and the shadow. Athena is a beloved war goddess and Ares will always be in her shadow, and I hate that. He deserves better, they both deserved to be siblings.

With that I have now gone over the relationships and dynamics of Athena and each of her siblings on Olympus! Remember these are my personal opinions! You do not have to agree with me, that’s perfectly fine. Thank you for the ask and I’m sorry if it’s taken a while to get back to you!

#greek mythology #tagamemnon #athena #ancient greek #ares #artemis #apollo #hephaestus #hermes #dionysus #headcanons #siblings #thank you! #anon ask #seriously if anyone recognises the Dionysus and Athena bar thing pls tell me so I can credit them

[jovenshires]

Hey so remember that band au

Do you have any brainrot scraps I could eat

i dont have anything like Publishable but yeah absolutely i got some scraps!! here is the tag for anyone seeing this and is like. What is she Talking about LNDFNFNLK

here is a quick social media edit for the chosen that i ended up not using in the overall edit

i dont think i've revealed who explicitly is in what band yet so have a fun lil guessing game as i give you a sneak peak at ftc's tracklist ! (easy mode xoxo)

and as a bonus some random headcanons under the cut bc why not:

courtney and spencer are long-time childhood friends, and they've been making music together since they were like. 7 and 11 respectively. spencer met shayne and damien in college and they've been in a band ever since!!

if you walk into any of the dressing rooms of every member of the chosen, they are listening to such different music to get ready it would actually make your heads spin. out of their botb fellow contestants, damien is most likely to listen to conventry (bc he's literally never been wrong), courtney is bumping kolivition, spencer is playing some classic smosh, and shayne is listening to ftc!!

i have in my brain what all of the songs are like. About ya know. so for example damien did the backing vocals for augustus and i have this idea in my brain that like. augustus IS this universe's manifestation of the character augustus. so like i think all of the chosen has a hand in writing the songs and damien co-wrote this one and it's just like. about a lonely lost kid who's awkward and doesn't fit in. like obviously it's a much less joking interpretation and more of a serious one but anyway it's still about him. is this making sense? i have No idea anymore!

courtney has also done some co-/backing vocals, and is the most likely to be featured on a track! she's featured on nuclear rain, and she also does a fun lil harmony for 'shoot dood.' shayne is the only one that has not sung and their fans keep begging but he REFUSES

'down bad' is their first like... love song? although it's technically just about how embarrassing being vulnerable and being in love are. smth smth the overwhelming ordeal of loving someone.

anyway it also opens with a snippet of a voicemail from kiana to spencer (probably from like years ago not about anything relevant) telling him to 'get up girl'. kiana is Not here for the fame, in fact she would rather no one knew who she was but unfortunately life be like this. after the ep drops the media goes fucking Nuts with rumors of whether or not they're dating.

they have fans who love the whole band but the amount of damien girls is of course insane. the other three mock him relentlessly for it. there is an entire instagram dedicated to updates about his hair.

lisa has put spencer on twitter timeout several times especially from the band's twitter bc he is Terrible for publicity. the order of worst to best for tweeting are: spencer, shayne, courtney, and damien

courtney takes selfies at EVERY live show they do; they have a collage of them as their phone background!!

as soon as courtney hears jackie is gonna be one of the judges for botb. hyperventilating. she loses her god damn mind. THE jacklyn uweh? famous recording artist? that's her shower sing-along playlist. lisa has explicitly banned them from any fangirling until the battle is Over

"up & coming" is like a netflix reality show about small bands really trying to make it, and they were featured after kiana got in contact with the showrunner. it basically followed them as they made their third ep and interviewed them and people they know. it's very much a 'before they were famous moment.'

damien bet shayne $20 that he wouldn't stare into the camera in every single shot. shayne committed to the bit. no one said anything and they kept every single shot in and NO ONE knows why.

#ask #asks #anon #anonymous #fic #au #rpf #botbau

[allfandomxreader]

Back to You | 3

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eight months ago, you swore you would never step foot in Hawkins again. When Robin begs for you to come home for spring break, you find yourself agreeing despite better judgment. You’ve missed everyone, you could endure one more week in Hawkins if that means you can see your friends again.

Words: 8.5k sorry

Part: 3/9

Warnings: Language, alluded depression and anxiety, I think that’s it?? 

A/N: ahhh I just love this series so much and I have been DYING to write episode 4 so I will start on it asap. This part is loosely edited sorry but I’d love to know your thoughts and opinions on it so far :)) 

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist  

You slam the door to your childhood bedroom cringing at the loud bang it sends throughout the home out of habit. Your mother’s shifts changed from morning to night in the early years of middle school. She griped for months about needing her rest during the day. You grew accustomed to tiptoeing and whispering around the house in an effort to make your presence unknown. You learned how to make your own meals and set the table for one at a young age.

Sure, in high school it made things easier. You never had to sneak out or people in. She never bothered to ask about where you were going or whom you were going with. Curfews didn’t exist in your household and because of that, fellow classmates said they envied you. You didn’t tell them how she never came to science fairs or spelling bees, and that you stopped asking her to come to any event because you already knew her answer. Maybe that’s why you were adamant about supporting the kids. You’d be the first to volunteer to drive them to or from. You always sat front row in the audience at whatever it was they were doing. You knew how it felt to look into a crowd of faces and nobody was there to cheer you on.

You always wished it had been different. You couldn’t help but wonder how life would’ve been if she were present. Steve understood this, his own lack of parental guidance started around the same time. You often wondered if loneliness was the foundation of your friendship. You would find yourself on his doorstep when the silence of your house grew too loud at night. He’d spend weeks at a time sleeping on your bedroom floor when his parents went on vacation and he wasn’t invited. The two of you always had each other.

Six weeks into the first semester of college your mom took another job. An almost constant 9-5, no weekends, no holidays. You felt like you had been ripped in two at the news. She missed the most crucial years of your life and as soon as they were over, she could finally be the mother you needed. It’s been hard trying not to hold it against her.

Your body deflates with a sigh of relief at the emptiness of the house. You rush towards the living room, throwing your backpack strap over your shoulder with haste. Picture frames clatter to the floor, glass shattering onto the hardwood.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumble. You’re already running late. Everyone decided to meet at the corner of Shirly Street at ten o’clock sharp to check on Eddie. You didn’t mean to oversleep, and you definitely didn’t mean to knock down pieces of your mom’s beloved memory wall. It was only for show of course, at least to you. Documentation that she was there when it mattered, even then, it never felt like enough.

Delicately, you pick up the photos, careful not to cut yourself on glass. Staring back at you were two children with toothy grins. You were ten at the time, Steve had just turned eleven. His arm was thrown around you and you held a fish in the air, proudness written across your features. It was the only thing you caught that whole vacation all those summers ago. Steve argued for years that it was technically his fish; he was the one who baited your hook after all. You’re certain he’d still argue that point if it were brought up today.

Your mother always adored Steve. He had her wrapped around his finger ever since he walked you home from the bus stop after the first day of kindergarten. Even after what he did eight months ago, she still believed he could do no wrong. In her letters, she’d update you on his life despite your pleading for her to stop. You reminded her that you didn’t care, deep down, you think both of you knew that was a lie. It was always small things of course; she was only ever informed through their conversations while she rented a movie or when running into him at the supermarket. On the rare occasion when she called, she’d ask if he wrote before hanging up the phone. The answer was always no.

You shouldn’t have been surprised to see Steve hanging proudly on the wall, there was almost as much of him as there was of you. You hadn’t realized until now just how inseparable the two of you truly were. It only made sense that he was present in so many moments frozen in time, he was a big part of your life, maybe the biggest. Even so, you wish your mother would take them all down.

You place the first picture back in its rightful spot, kicking the glass toward the wall and out of the way. It’s crooked but you decide to straighten it later, you don’t want to keep the others waiting longer than they had to. You quickly grab the second frame, lazily hanging it back on its nail.

Your breath hitches as you step away. It was the last picture the two of you took together, one you thought your mom never got developed. Steve stood behind you with his arms awkwardly wrapped around your waist, careful not to crush the corsage on your wrist. It was the nicest either of you had been dressed up.

You didn’t want to go to prom. The first time Steve asked you to be his date you laughed. You didn’t understand the appeal of it all. The thought of spending an evening in a gym that’s too hot in a dress too tight was not by any means your ideal night. The second time prom was mentioned he promised it wouldn’t be lame, that he’d try to make it the best night of your life. The third time, he told you that he just wanted to be normal, to go to a shitty high school dance and see his girlfriend in a fancy dress. You finally relented.  

Back then, Steve was true to his word. He had bought your favorite flowers, requested your favorite song, and spun you around on the dance floor until you were dizzy. He didn’t take his eyes off you the whole evening. He had a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had danced together, no, that happened the year prior. To this day, that was the best night of your life.

Max stood on the pavement before you, rocking back and forth on her heels. It wasn’t often that you saw her nervous, quite frankly, you thought she wasn’t capable of that emotion. And yet, there she was, biting her lip and twiddling with her fingers.

“Do we really have to do this?” She groaned.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but I promised your mom I’d get at least one picture of you.” You lifted the polaroid to your eye, centering the lens onto her. “Can you at least look like you’re not in pain?” She rolled her eyes and forced a smile, squinting when the flash went off. You hoped it’d be good enough for Susan, you knew Max wouldn’t let you take another. “Now was that so hard?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll see you later.”

“Oh, wait, before I forget.” You dug into your jean pocket and pulled out your lucky tube of strawberry-flavored lip gloss. “I brought this for you.” Her eyes grew wide as she took it. She complimented it the night before while you practiced her makeup for the dance. You had told her that it was your secret weapon, that every time you wore it you ended up kissing a cute boy.

“Think it’ll work?” She asked, applying a thin layer.

“Only one way to find out.” You laughed. She tried to pass it back to you, but you only shook your head. “Keep it, it’s yours.” With one last smile, you jerked your head toward the school. “Knock ‘em dead.” She grinned before she spun around and jogged away. “I’ll pick you up at 9:30!” You called after her. She flashed a thumbs-up behind her, not bothering to turn around before she reached the school doors.

“They grow up fast, don’t they?” You heard Steve’s voice and the rumble of his car beside you. Your body froze. You thought you had a few more days before you had to see him again. You weren’t planning on seeing him here, the middle school parking lot was the last place you expected him to be that night. “Guess we’re both on babysitting duty tonight, huh?” It hadn’t occurred to you that Dustin would ask Steve to drive him. You would’ve been lying to yourself if you said that hadn’t stung.

“She’s nervous” was all you could say, “just trying to make it a little better.” You willed yourself to face him. He stared at you through his open window, smiling when he caught your eye. You thought he looked as handsome as ever in that maroon sweater you always loved, and you kicked yourself for it. Without a word, you watched him pull into the empty spot next to your car and hop out.

“Hi,” he said once he stood in front of you. He was so close you could smell his cologne. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, I guess it has been a while.”

“Thought you might’ve been avoiding me.” He forced a chuckle, but his eyes pled for you to reassure him otherwise.

“I’m not avoiding you, Steve.” You were. You were still scorned by his actions from Halloween, but by then that night had become an afterthought. You knew it was a stupid grudge to hold onto, especially since everything that happened with the Mindflayer the month before. Even in the midst of that, you saw how he looked at Nancy every time she came into his view. His yearning for her was evident through the way he talked and the way he moved. It was painful to be around almost twenty-four-seven for a week straight. On the nights he called, he only spoke of her, spilling his heart out to you while you listened with tears in your eyes.

The pain that came with loving Steve Harrington almost consumed you. You needed space, you needed time to grieve a relationship that never happened, to move on. So, you kept him at arm’s length. You ignored his calls here and there and made up excuses to not hang out. You weren’t sure what hurt more, being there to pick up the broken pieces of his heart or not being there at all.

“I’ve missed you.” He admitted sheepishly.

“Missed you too.” There was a beat of awkward silence that hung in the air. “I should probably get going.” You said finally. You noticed the frown that tugged on his lips before he spoke.

“Well no, wait, what are you doing right now? We could go grab dinner or watch a movie back at my place before they need to be picked up.” He offered.

“No, that’s okay. I was just gonna wait here and read until it let out, I have a feeling she’ll want to leave early. Wouldn’t want to make her wait in the cold.” Another lie.

“I’ll wait with you then. Who says the babysitters can’t have some fun of their own?” Before you could protest, he offered his hand out to you. “May I have this dance?”

“We can’t even hear the music out here.” You laughed. He ran to his car quickly, turning up the radio until you could hear the vocals bleed out from the windows. “Problem solved.” He said walking back to you, his hand still outstretched. With an eye roll, you placed your hand into his and he pulled you close. You swayed in the parking lot in silence. You had missed his sporadic ideas, the comfortableness in the quiet, but above all, you truly missed him.

“Look, I know I haven’t been the bestest of friends to you lately,” he began. You could hear his heartbeat quicken under the fabric of his shirt. “I don’t know what happened, it’s like ever since Nancy I completely pushed you onto the sidelines and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, I just got so wrapped up in trying to be the best I could be and…” He trailed off and shook his head as if to rid the words on his tongue. “I feel like I don’t even know you anymore and that’s completely my fault. I just hope you’ll forgive me someday.”

“It’s okay, Steve.” Was all you managed to say, your words muffled by his shoulder. As much as all of that hurt, you just wanted your friend back.

“It’s really, really not, and I know that.” He chuckled but there was no humor behind his laugh. “Could we just start over? Pretend that I haven’t been a complete loser of a best friend for the past year?” You pulled away from his embrace to look at him fully. His eyes searched your face trying to read your features. Even after the things you’ve been through together, he never looked quite as scared as he did at that moment.

“I don’t ever want to start over with you, Steve. We can pick up right where we left off.” You said with a smile. The look of relief washed over him, his muscles relaxed in your arms.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” He whispered and pulled you into him tighter. Your breath was knocked out of your lungs when you realized how close the two of you were standing. His eyes darted from your own to your lips. He slowly leaned in. His eyelids fluttered closed.

“What are you doing?” You snapped, shoving his body away from you.

“Oh, come on,” Steve groaned, “don’t act like you haven’t thought about it.” You scoffed, shaking your head. Your blood boiled as you looked at him.

“I have thought about it every day for the past year and a half, Steve. I have wanted nothing more than for us to finally be together but not like this. I’m not ruining fifteen years of friendship just because you’re lonely.” You spat. “I know you’re hurting right now after Nancy and I’m sorry, but you do not get to use me to fill that void. I will do a lot of things for you, but I won’t do this. I’m not going to be second best to her anymore, and I’m certainly not going to be her rebound.”

“You think you’re second best?” His voice was softer than before. He stepped forward, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I think I have been in love with you since we were eight years old.” You stopped breathing. You swore your heart was going to beat out of your chest. “It took me so long to finally realize it and by the time I did, you were flirting with Thomas Morrison or Craig Tolliver. I never thought we’d get the timing right but we’re here now and I don’t want to waste another second not being with you.”

“You love me?” You said breathlessly.

“God, I am so in love with you it’s almost unbearable.” He laughed, taking steps to reach you. “And I know I’m not the greatest person and I haven’t always done right by you, but I promise, cross my heart and hope to die, you have never been second best.” When he said it, no matter how hard you looked for a sign of dishonestly, you only found sincerity behind his eyes. “Can I kiss you now?” And you could only nod.

Loud bangs on the front door pull you out of the past and back into the present. You shake your head to rid the memory as you move towards the sound. Dustin, Robin, Max, and Steve all stand on your porch. You look at them in confusion before checking your watch. You still had five minutes before the designated meeting time.

“Change of plans, we’re raiding your fridge,” Dustin says with a grin. You step aside to let the group in, Max following Dustin toward the kitchen.

“Dingus here thought it’d look suspicious if someone saw us all buying groceries,” Robin explains with an eye roll but continues down the same path after them.

“It would!” Dustin shouts already tearing through your mother’s cabinets. “Anything off limits?” he asks, peaking his head out from behind oak to look at you.

“Uh, no, help yourself.” You say. You’ll tell your mom you’re stocking up for your apartment, she won’t bat an eye. You turn to Steve who still lingers in the doorway. He looked at ease taking in the familiarity of your home, almost nothing had changed since the last time he had been inside. He looks like he belongs here.

“Sorry,” he says, finally looking your way. “He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“It’s fine.” You sigh, pursing your lips together. Steve’s head tilts in confusion looking you up and down.

“Is that my sweater?” He asks staring at the maroon fabric that hangs off your limbs.

“No,” it is. It was the one you wore each night you found yourself sleeping beside him. You finally stole a few months into dating. At first, it was a keepsake, a reminder of the night when your love story finally began. You’ve had it for so long now it lost his scent and the memory of him went with it. You had forgotten it never belonged to you in the first place. “I do have my own wardrobe these days.”

He doesn’t get the opportunity to respond before the others join you back in the room, each of them holding a bag full of food. “Okay, now we’re ready to roll.” Dustin states and leads the rest of you outside and to Steve’s car.

Dustin gives no warning as he kicks the door to Eddie’s hideaway open. You flinch at the sound, too paranoid that someone lurking in the woods will see you out there. Even though Reefer Rick’s abode resides in the middle of nowhere, the main road is still too close for comfort.

“Delivery service.” Dustin says trudging through the doorway. You spot the broken bottle clutched in Eddie’s hand. His fingers are wound so tight around the glass that his knuckles are white. He relaxes at the sight of the five of you, his breathing already starting to slow as he makes his way to Dustin, snatching the bag of food out of his grasp and taking a seat inside the boat.

“So, we got, uh, some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin’s voice is cautious as he begins.

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie says between mouthfuls of Honeycombs.

“Alright, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you. Also, they’re uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.” Dustin continues.

“Like, 100% kind of convinced.” Max chimes.

“And the good news?” Eddie asks, looking between the two youngest.

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you it’s only a matter of time before others do too and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

“Hunt the freak right?” Eddie asks, staring off into the distance.

“Exactly.” Robin finishes.

“Shit.” Eddie mumbles. Your heart breaks for him. You wish more than anything that this could all be over, that you could put your days of saving the world behind you. As much as you hate it, you don’t care that you’re up against an unknown creature again, at this point you should be used to it. You’ve made peace with the fact that your life is forever tainted by the Upsidedown, it’s taken everything from you already you don’t have much else to lose. Eddie doesn’t deserve this though, and neither did Chrissy. You wish that they both could’ve been left out, blissfully unaware of what grows in Hawkins beneath them.

“So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie snaps.

“Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.” Even you roll your eyes at that.

“Listen, Eddie,” Robin sighs, “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this kind of thing before. I mean, they have a–a few times,” Robin rambles. Eddie’s eyes lock with yours, softening as she speaks. “And—and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based and theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel like we got this.” Robin smiles.

“Yeah see, we rely on this girl with superpowers, but, uh, those went bye-bye so, uh,” Steve trails off.

“So, we’re technically in, in more of the—" Robin moves her hands looking for the right word to finish her thoughts.

“The brainstorming phase.” Max nods.

“Brainstorming.” Everyone agrees.

“There’s, there’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin tries his best to be reassuring but he’s never been a good liar. Eddie looks at you then, you stand a little straighter under his gaze.

“You’ve been quiet.” Eddie points out, everyone’s attention lands on you.

“It’s nothing.” You shrug.

“Look, I know I’m new to this whole thing, but I’d like to know the full picture, at least most of it, the good and bad.” Eddie pleads.

“It’s just this is so different. Yes, we’ve been through this kind of thing before but not like this. We’ve dealt with possession and weird slimy dogs, and–and Russian labs. This feels so much bigger. And we’ve always had El, she has saved us every single time, how do we do this without her?” You look at your friends, each of their faces crumbling at your words. They know you’re right. “And whatever it is, it wants to be known, it’s not hiding anymore. It’s not taking people and killing them in the Upsidedown, it’s out in the open. It’s not contained in one spot like the lab or the mall so how do we know where it’ll be? And let’s say we do kill it, even though the entire town isn’t looking at Eddie a few people are. How do we convince them without telling the truth? They won’t believe anything we say about what we know.”  

Before anyone could answer sirens blare in the distance. Everyone scrambles at the sound. “Tarp,” Robin exclaims, “Tarp, tarp!” You hear the rustling of Eddie disguising himself as the rest of you run toward the window. Your heart races watching the cars. You can see it now, they’ll turn into the driveway, and one group will search the house while the other searches the boat house. They’ll find Eddie, place him in cuffs and take him to the station. They’ll take the five of you there too, questioning you for hours until inevitably, you’re behind bars as accomplices.

They all keep driving, not giving this place a single thought. Even though you’re relieved, you know it’s not a good sign.

“Let’s go,” Steve says, keys already in hand. Eddie’s head pokes out from under the tarp at the commotion.

“You’re safe for now, don’t leave until we get back!” You say, running after them and into Steve’s car once again. Steve drive’s through the backroads quickly, an eerie silence settles in the air.

“What do you think it is?” Dustin asks quietly from the other end of the backseat. He bounces his knee while staring out the window.

“Someone else is dead.” You say. You don’t have the energy to sugarcoat it.

“How do you know?” Max whispers, though deep down you think she knows it too.

“Because the last time I saw that many first responders was Starcourt,” Max gulps beside you, still haunted by the memory. Maybe you should’ve sugarcoated it. “And the time before that was when Pastor John had his stroke two years ago. This is too much of a coincidence to need that many people. Someone else was murdered.”

“I hope you’re not right about this.” Steve glances at you from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, yeah me too.” Was all you could say before looking back out the window.

“Holy shit is that…” Steve mumbles pulling the car to a halt. All of you pile out of the car, taking in the scene. Nancy Wheeler stands in the midst of it all surrounded by police. Her face brightens at the sight of everyone. She offers a small wave, forcing a smile.

You lean on Steve’s car, all of you in silence watching her movements from a distance. You see Chief Powell flip his notebook shut. A lump forms in your throat as you take in the beige uniform, the one you’ve grown used to seeing Hopper in over the years. The constant reminder of the people you have lost is growing more unbearable by the second. With a final nod, Powell releases her from his questioning. She walks with her head down, clenching her fists together as she makes her way toward you.

“What are you guys doing here?” She says standing before the group. She looks each of you over waiting for someone’s answer.

“What are you doing here?” Steve responds. You watch as Nancy gulps, looking at the pavement before speaking.

“Fred was killed.” She whispers, unable to look anyone in the eye. “He was right there, and then he was just gone.” She shakes her head, trying to understand how it happened. You know she’s already blaming herself. Nobody knows how to fill in the silence.

“Shit,” Dustin mumbles. “I’m assuming that’s not a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Nancy looks up then.

“We should probably go somewhere a little more private to explain.” Dustin nods to the police, already making his way back into Steve’s BMW.

“I have to get my car, it’s back at the trailer park,” Nancy trails off, glancing at the five of you. “And it looks like you guys are out of room… I’ll walk back and then I can meet you anywhere.”

“I’ll walk with you,” you blurt. “I need some air anyway.”

“Whoa, another person just died out here and you just want to skip through the woods right now?” Steve asks looking between the two of you.

“Not like we really have another option.” You shrug. “We’ve fought off literal monsters, I think we can handle a two-minute walk, Steve.”

“I just don’t like the idea of you out there all alone.” Steve sighs, shoving his hands into his jeans.

“Since when do you care about sending me places alone?” You snap, unable to stop the words before they came. Steve’s face falls, heat rising to his cheeks out of anger.

“That’s not fair.” He bites back.

“Isn’t it?” You cock your head to the side, waiting for him to argue.

“You know what, forget I said anything.” He throws his hands into the air. “If you end up dead, that’s on you.” He seethes, yanking the door to the car open and throwing himself inside. You wince hearing the slam echo through the trees. Robin shoots you a glare before getting in herself. Steve starts the engine, his tires screeching as he peels off down the road.

Awkwardness settles over you and Nancy as you begin the short journey. You didn’t mean for an argument to happen, especially not in front of everyone. You really are trying to keep things civil between the two of you for Robin’s sake, Dustin’s too. You can’t help it, you’re already on edge, and being around Steve only made it worse.

“Sorry you had to see that.” You say. You don’t know why you felt the need to apologize, maybe it was out of embarrassment, or maybe you just want someone to be on your side.

“Don’t be, I totally get it.” The two of you are quiet again, only the sounds of your shoes scuffing the concrete fill the air. “I heard about what happened.” She says softly, as if asking permission to continue. Surprisingly, you’re relieved at the news. Even after all these months, you’re still not ready to tell the world what happened from your point of view. You’d rather them assume, to hear through the grapevine and write their own conclusions than relive your heartache. “It was fucked up. You’re allowed to still be angry.”

“Thank you, I needed that.” You say with a smile. Her words are nice to hear, you just wanted someone to justify your feelings, to be given the space where you don’t have to pretend that being around him isn’t sucking the life out of you.

“You know, I always thought the two of you would get married straight after graduation. Even when we were together, I never understood why he wasn’t with you.” She admits with a shrug. “When the word got out, I couldn’t believe it,” she shakes her head, “Still can’t. I don’t know how you’ve held it together so well.”

“Believe me, I am far from holding it together.” You admit.

“Oh, of course, I’m just saying if it were me,” she sucks in a breath, “I would’ve egged his house, or keyed his car, put Nair in his shampoo, something.” this makes you laugh. “You’ve always been good at that though, never showing weakness I mean.”

“I definitely thought about it, but it wouldn’t have made me feel any better.” The two of you are venturing into new territory, you’ve never talked about anything beyond surface level, and you’ve certainly never talked about Steve. “How are you and Jonathon?” You ask, desperate to think about something else other than your past.

“We’re good.” Her pitch changes but she says nothing else.

“Real convincing.”

“Honestly?” She sighs, “I don’t know how we are. He was supposed to visit over break but bailed at the last second and wouldn’t give me a real reason why.” Nancy folds her arms around herself as she talks.

“What the fuck?”

“I know, that’s weird right?” You nod in agreement. “And he’s been so distant lately and I don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous about his acceptance letter or if it’s the distance or if he’s found some other girl out there or what.”

“Have you talked to him about this?”

“I’ve tried but he always brushes it off, he’ll give one of his typical Jonathon excuses then hang up the phone. Now he won’t even answer.”

“That’s bullshit, I’m sorry.” You try to think of something better to say, to help comfort her in the same way she did you. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’s found someone else. There’s nobody better for him than Nancy Wheeler and he’s known that from the moment you got together. And if he has, fuck that and fuck him.” She chuckles giving a slight nod. “I’m sure he’s just scared. Everything has changed so quickly, and it’ll change even more once you both graduate. But right now, he’s supposed to be here and he’s not and I know how much that sucks. You don’t have to pretend to not be upset, not around me at least.” For the first time since you’ve started walking, you look at each other.

“I wish we could’ve been better friends,” she admits. “I feel like we’ve never had a chance to really talk.”

“Never too late to start.” Each of you smile, yet again bonding over pain.

“There they are.” She nods to the group of four, all of them sitting at a lone picnic table. Dustin waves at the sight of the two of you emerging down the path.

You slide into the edge seat next to Dustin, Nancy sits across from you as they fill her in on what you know. You can feel the tension in the air that falls over the six of you. Nobody can look you in the eye. Maybe you shouldn’t have snapped.

“So, you’re saying that this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the upside down?” Nancy asks, trying to process the new information.

“If the shoe fits.” Steve mumbles.

“Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell. Or curse?” Dustin explains. “Now, whether or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”

“It’s like Y/N said earlier, this is something different. Something new.” Max says.

“Doesn’t make sense.” Nancy shakes her head.

“It’s only a theory.” Dustin tries.

“No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them?” Nancy questions.

“Maybe they were just in the wrong place. They were both at the game.” Dustin shrugs.

“And near the trailer park.” Max adds.

“We’re at the trailer park.” Everyone looks at the surroundings at Steve’s words. “Uh, should we maybe not be here?”

“There is something about this place. Fred started acting weird the second we got here.” Nancy says. You can tell she’s reliving their final moments in her head, slowly piecing things together.

“Acting weird as in...?” Robin trails off.

“Scared, on edge, upset.” Nancy lists.

“Max said Chrissy was upset too.” Dustin says.

“Yeah, but not here. She was crying in the bathroom at school.”

“Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right? So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman—" Robin begins.

“Vecna.” Dustin corrects.

“I don’t know about you guys but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I’d mention it to someone.” Steve looks around the group at his confession.

“Maybe they did. I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you –you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you.” Max explains, “But you might go to your—”

“Your shrink.” Robin finishes. Max nods in her direction.

“Let’s talk to Ms. Kelley and see what she knows.” Max says, throwing her legs over the bench to stand.

“That’s completely violating patient privacy,” you say following her lead. “She’s not going to tell you anything.”

“Better than nothing, which is what we have right now.” she shrugs.

Everyone marches toward the cars in silence lost in thought. Nancy breaks from the group first, heading to her own vehicle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Nance!” Steve calls after her. “Where are you going?”

“There’s just something I want to check on first,” she waves her hand in dismissal.

“Something that you maybe want to share with the rest of us?” Dustin shouts from beside you.

“I don’t wanna waste anyone’s time. It’s a real shot in the dark.” She shrugs. “And I really don’t want to squeeze into your backseat. It makes more sense this way. You guys go, I’ll tell you if I find anything.”

“Yeah, no, it’s too dangerous. You need… You need someone too…” Steve trails off, you scoff at the scene. “Here. You go, I’ll stick with Nance, alright?” Steve says, tossing his keys to Robin. “You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”

“I don’t think you want me driving your car.” Robin says.

“Why?”

“I don’t have a license.”

“Why don’t you have a license?” Steve snaps, growing more irritated by the second.

“I’m poor.” She shrugs.

“Give me the keys.” You demand taking the keys just wanting the conversation to be over with. “I’ll try not to crash your car.” You flash him a snarky grin.

“Okay, no. Enough of this.” Robin snatches the keys from your grasp and takes a flashlight from Dustin’s backpack. “I’m going with Nancy,” Robin says, shoving the keys back into Steve’s hand. “You both are exhausting. You two need to figure your shit out, especially after what happened back there. I get it, you hate each other, whatever, get over it. We have bigger problems right now and we’re never going to solve anything if you two can’t get along for even two seconds.” She spins on her heel and heads straight toward Nancy’s car before you can even get a word in.

“Sorry.” Nancy whispers before following Robin’s lead.

“Be careful!” Steve calls after them.

“You just gonna stand there and gawk, Harrington?” Dustin giggles.

“Oh, shut up. Get in the car.” Steve groans, “Wipe your feet.” He demands as Dustin climbs into the front and rubs his feet on the floor mat. “On the outside, not the inside!” He starts the car with rage. “Always the babysitter, always the goddamn babysitter.”

Nobody utters a word as Steve drives. You busy yourself looking out the window watching the trees pass. It’s a weird feeling being sat behind Steve. Once upon a time, nobody dared to take your spot beside him. It was almost second nature sliding in through the passenger door and everyone else taking the back. Once, Dustin got into the front just to see how you’d react, it really didn’t faze you, you honestly didn’t care where you sat. He stood outside the car for five minutes straight demanding that you take back your seat because “it messes up the system!”. Now, you understand what he meant. Granted, so much more has been messed up since then.

“Be right back,” Max says, hopping out of the car before it even comes to a complete stop. She lingers in the doorway waiting for Ms. Kelley to answer, anxiously tapping her foot. When the door opens, Ms. Kelly seems surprised to see her standing there, you don’t really blame her for that. You try to make out what she’s saying but come up empty-handed, too far away to read her lips. Max throws a glance over her shoulder before stepping inside and shutting the door behind her.

“Okay, she’s in.” Steve says.

“I’m missing collar bones, not eyes.” Dustin comments. You smirk at this. You’re happy he’s found a way to joke about it after all these years, you know how insecure it made him growing up. “So, we gonna talk about it?” Dustin’s eyes are trained on Steve’s.

“Uh, sorry, talk about what?” Steve asks, tearing his head away from the counselor’s house.

“Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance.” You’re glad you’re not the only one who noticed, even so, a knot festers in your stomach.

“Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.”

“Pretty sure it’s what happened. It was pretty public. There were like a lot of witnesses.” Dustin’s nose scrunches, fake embarrassment spreading through his features. “He threw himself at Nancy, right? You saw it too?” Dustin asks, turning around to look at you.

“Oh, I saw.” You want to throw up. You’ve spent years trying to force yourself into believing Steve had no feelings left for her. You’re starting to think you were wrong this entire time.

“Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance?” Steve snaps, looking at Dustin.

“No, I’m not implying. I’m stating. And, as it relates to your steadfast refusal to date Robin, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.” Dustin says, looking back out through the windshield. You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort not to laugh.

“That’s not the only one.” Steve grumbles. “And as for Nance, I was just trying to protect a friend.” He explains but’s clear Dustin doesn’t buy it. “A friend, Henderson. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep.” Steve defends. Even if his words hold truth, you can tell he’s coming up with it on the spot.

“You’re like bright red in the face right now.” Dustin teases.

“No, I’m not. I don’t wanna talk about it.” Steve says rolling his eyes. “Why does everyone think I haven’t moved on from her.” Steve mumbles shaking his head.

“Uh, maybe because she was your first love? Everyone knows you never really move on from that.” Dustin says. Steve glances at you through the rearview, holding your gaze with soft eyes.

“That’s not true,” he says quietly, forcing himself to look away. “I’m done talking about this. Not another word or I’ll punch you so hard in your face that your teeth will fall back out.”

“Steven James!” His name tumbles out from your mouth faster than you could stop it. It was like second nature, as if you fell back into the role of the girl you were eight months ago. He knew he’d said too much.

“Whoa. Too far.” Dustin warns. They stare at each other for a beat.

“Not cool. Sorry.” Steve apologizes.

“Not cool. It’s okay.” They bump fists to solidify their peace. “So, uh, Y/N, how’s your boyfriend?” Dustin says in a poor attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, we broke up.” You admit quietly. It had been a brief relationship, it started towards the end of September. You weren’t looking to date at the time, still tending to your wounds from Steve. You fell hard and fast despite being convinced you’d never fall in love with another man. That’s the thing about love, it has a way of sneaking up on you without you realizing it and disappearing just as fast as it came.

Even though the months you had spent together were limited, you had never felt more alive. It was so painfully normal, how you wish every relationship could be, how you wish your relationship with Steve could have been. You didn’t have to worry about saving the world, you only cared about whose turn it was to pay for dinner and which apartment you were spending the night at.

“What? Since when?” Dustin asks, turning around in his seat to look at you fully.

“New Year’s Eve.” You force a chuckle, shaking your head. You haven’t thought about him much since. You think you liked who you were while you were together more than you liked him. It was easy being with him, there was no shared trauma or a history of friendship. He was new, exciting, and you loved every second of it. You almost forgot Steve existed entirely for those four short months. “He had the worst possible timing for that one. Must be a trend.” You look back out the window, ignoring the look Steve sends your way through the mirror.

“If you’re trying to make this even more awkward Henderson, you’re succeeding. Stop talking.” Steve huffs looking back toward the house. “Here she comes, here she comes, here she comes.” He says sitting up straighter in his seat, watching as Max bolts from the backside of Ms. Kelley’s home.

“What’d she say?” Dustin asks the second she throws the door open.

“Nothing, just drive.” She demands breathlessly sliding next to you.

“Nothing?” Steve questions.

“Steve, drive!” She shouts.

“Okay.” Steve’s wheels screech for the second time today, speeding down the road and out of the neighborhood. “Where am I going?” He asks, eyes trained on the road.

“The school.” She answers.

“The high school?” You ask, watching her dig in her jacket pocket.

“Yeah, she didn’t tell me shit.” She rolls her eyes.

“Told you.” You mumble.

“So, let’s find out for ourselves.” She says, holding up a keyring labeled ‘office’. With a single glance at the keys, Steve makes a sharp left turn, rerouting towards Hawkins high.

“What happens when we get to the school and there are cops everywhere?” Steve asks no one in particular.

“Why on earth would there be cops at the school, Steve?” Dustin laughs.

“No, that’s actually a valid question.” Steve gestures to you with a thankful motion, glaring at Dustin from your agreement. “As far as we know, the cops don’t know Reefer Rick is Eddie’s dealer, that’s why they haven’t found his hiding place yet. He has no other family besides his uncle, and he can’t go back home for obvious reasons. Where else would a kid still in high school have to go?”

“But why would he go back there at all?” Max asks.

“Maybe they think he’d go back for his drugs.” Steve shrugs.

“That’s ridiculous. Where would he even keep them, his locker? Eddie’s not that stupid.” Dustin says. Your lips turn into the faintest of smiles, it’s touching to see how quick he is to defend a friend despite not being in their presence. He’s always been that way to the people he loves. He told you once that he learned it from you.

“Yeah, not anymore.” Steve grumbles.

“Our senior year, someone tipped off the police that he was dealing at the school. They came and raided his entire locker and everything. They found all sorts of stuff in there. It was a pretty big deal.” You explain to the younger two. “They let him off with a warning but held him for back another year.”

“So stupid,” Steve scoffs. “why would anyone choose to deal drugs.” He shakes his head thinking out loud.

“People who don’t have the luxury of mommy and daddy paying for everything.” You snap. You’re not defending the way Eddie earns his income, but you understand. You know how it feels to be desperate enough to do anything just to afford to scrape by all too well.

It’s dark by the time you pull into the school parking lot. You scope the surroundings, there’s no sign of anyone around. You peek through the trees to get a glimpse of movement to make sure police aren’t hiding in the shadows.

“Safe to say there are no cops.” Sarcasm drips from Dustin’s lips.

“Unbelievable,” Steve says looking around the abandoned schoolyard. “I mean what do they even do? We found Eddie in less than twenty-four hours. We do their jobs better than they do.”

“Is that a surprise to you, Harrington?” You laugh, leading the way to the entrance. “Since when has anyone on the force besides Hop done their job? Even he didn’t do much before all of this shit happened.”

“Who knows how to pick a lock?” Dustin asks once in front of the door, leaning down towards the handle.

“Why would any of us know how to pick a lock?” Steve rolls his eyes.

“I know how.” Max admits. Both of their heads turn to her in disbelief.

“Or,” you trail off, reaching for the knob and opening the door with ease. “After you.” You say to Dustin, gesturing for him to enter.

You and Steve reach for the flashlights stuffed in Dustin’s backpack, hands brushing for only a moment. You snatch your hand away as if you’ve been burned. Steve hangs his head, pulling the flashlights out himself. You don’t look at him as he hands one to you. You start walking, sweeping the light over the floors and walls. You’ve always hated this place, you hate it even more in the dark.  

“Dustin, do you copy?” Robin’s voice pierces through the silence. Dustin reaches for his walkie and brings it to his lips as everyone rounds a corner.

“Yeah, I copy.”

“So, Nancy’s a genius. Vecna’s first victims date back all the way to 1959. Her shot in the dark was a bull’s eye.” Even through the static you can hear her excitement.

“Okay, that’s totally bonkers but I can’t really talk right now.” The walkie beeps.

“Wait, what are you doing?” She asks.

“Breaking and entering a school to retrieve confidential and extremely personal files.”

“Can you repeat that?”

“Just get your ass over here, stat. We’ll explain everything.” He orders, jabbing the antenna back into its rightful place.  

Max shoves the key into the locked office. With one final look over her shoulder, she pushes the door open, and everyone trails in behind her. She makes a beeline for the file cabinet in the corner of the room, you’re hot on her heels.

“It’s like a mini Watergate or something.” Dustin whispers looking around the room. Max pulls open the drawer filled with manila folders. “Hawkinsgate.” He murmurs somewhere behind you. You pay no attention to his words as you hold the light for Max. She combs through files passing over Chrissy Cunningham’s name. Your heart stops when you spot your own.

“Wait a second, didn’t those guys get caught?” Steve whispers.

“Holy shit.” Max mumbles. Her hands stop moving. You look closer, her fingers hover over a file labeled with Fred’s name.

“You found it?” Dustin walks closer, abandoning his conversation altogether.

“Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file.” She says pulling out Fred’s. “Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.” The four of you look at one another, trying to piece together a puzzle that doesn’t yet fit. Max turns, taking a seat in Ms. Kelley’s chair, flipping open Chrissy’s file. You peer over her shoulder, skimming through the notes. “Can I see Fred’s file?” Max says after a few minutes have passed.

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, passing her the folder, leaning down to get a closer look. Max looks up from reading and stares at nothing in particular on the table before her.

“Max, what is it?” Dustin asks, attempting to follow her gaze. “Max!” He tries again. “Max!”

You come out from behind her, turning the chair so she can face you fully. “Max, hey, look at me.” You plead. She doesn’t blink. She’s staring right through you as if you aren’t even there. “Max?” You call out to her. Frantically, you look between the boys, both of them just as worried as you.

“Max, come on.” Dustin urges.

“Max?” Steve shakes her shoulder in an attempt to wake her. Tears sting the back of your eyes, threatening to spill at any moment.

Without warning she jerks, coming to. Her eyes are wild as she looks between the three of you. She throws her arms around your neck, choking back a sob. Instinctively, you hold her tight, rocking her back in forth to calm her down.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay I got you.” You coo. Dustin and Steve share a collective sigh of relief at the sight. “You’re okay, you’re safe.” Though when you say it, it feels like a lie. You aren’t sure what just happened, what you witnessed, what Max saw, but you know whatever it was, it’s not good.

And even though you hate this town after everything it has done, after everything it’s taken from you, you’re happy to be here in this moment for Max’s sake. You know she wouldn’t cling to Dustin or Steve. She’d wear her confidence like a mask, her walls would become so high and she wouldn’t show a moment of weakness. She knows she doesn’t need to be brave, not around you. So, you’ll sit here, hold her, and let the mask fall as she weeps in your arms for as long as she needs.

Forever tags: @superfrankie111 // @rueinn // @lemonadeorange73 // @simplechicwithacrazedheart // @youshutthefuckupville // @captainpeggy40 // @alexdamereysmith // @llatpdnmm // @dummiesshort // @quaksonhehe

Steve Tags: @empathetic-vibrations // @loulouloueh // @soulmatecashton

Back to You Tags: @p-rspective // @gloryekaterina // @boomitsallie1​ // @sundarksposts // @themyththelegendthenerd​ // @gengen64​

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #stranger things one shot #stranger things series #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #steve harrington au #steve harrington x you #Steve Harrington fic #Steve Harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve Harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve Harrington x Y/N #joe keery #joe keery imagine #joe keery fic #joe keery x reader

[pinkacademic]

How to get a Pink Academia FIX in the Summer

If you're still in school or university/college and the summer months have you craving eduction even when you're not constrained to the classroom, or if you're finished up and still living for the aesthetic, here are some ideas for how to maintain your little grey cells with a little pink twist.

- Get Ahead! Have a look at study guides for next year's modules or classes, and dedicate a bit of time to learning. This is especcially good if you're doing something transitional like GCSEs and A-levels (for anyone outside the UK, those are exams we do between the ages of about 14-16 and 16-18 respectivly) and you want to do better next year or maintain your marks. Make sure to make it fun and don't forget to actually enjoy your Summer! Try maybe a few hours in the week where you dress in your best plaid skirt and pearls, pour yourself an ice tea and make some colour-coded notes. Maybe make a day of it with some like-minded girlies (girlies in gender-neutral btw) and head to a cafe with your laptops.

- Reading Dates with your significant other and/or bffs are nice way to hang out together in the same space while doing separate things. You can make it into a book club and all read the same books and discuss, or you can read separate books and just enjoying each other's company, ocassional chit-chat (and ranting about how the author must die for the suffering they've put you through), and perhaps a hot beverage. You could also listen to an audio book together. Its like binging a series but much more pretentious!

- Learn Something New! Personally this year, I plan on dedicating my summer to a big craft project where I'll be learning new things that I've never tried before. You can paint or draw, learn a language, follow a couple of K-pop dance tutorials, whatever takes your fancy. Set aside a certain amount of time, maybe invite some friends over, and try anything! Make sure to make a purposeful time to it to encourage dedication.

- Turn your movie nights or your series binge into a film/tv analysis. Learn about different kids of film, videography, sound editing, history of televised media, and themes and analyses. All my fellow English students, apply anything you know about classic literature and apply it to your films. To get really Pink Academia about the whole thing, analyse adaptations such as Emma and Clueless, Little Women, Pride and Prejudice etc. If you're more scientifically minded, you can research NASA's most scientifically accurate films list, or look into the behind the scenes aspects such as light, sound, and effects... you can also lok for NASA's worst movies too and rant about how terribly inaccurate they are!

#Pink Academia #Pink #Academia #Pink Academic #Summer Academia

[blx-0]

Genshin Impact High School Au: School clubs pt.2

Marching band:

The marching band is certainly a group, they play at the football games and go to separate marching band competitions. Eula plays the clarinet, she practices religiously and is certainly the lead for her section. Venti and Kazuha are both flute players, they are both good at their instrument but Venti goofs off more during practice, while Kazuha prefers to stay focused. Yet Venti is still the better flute player. Xinyan’s preferred instrument is the guitar, which is not in marching band, so she went for her next best option, the drum. She is very enthusiastic about her music, maybe a bit too enthusiastic as they sometimes struggle to hear the other instruments over how loud she plays the drums. Scaramouche plays the trumpet, he’s a trumpet kid. He rarely practices and kinda sucks but he stays in the band regardless. The marching band isn’t the most respected group in the school but they still stay enthusiastic, mostly.

Model UN:

The schools model UN is a very competitive club, you have to try out and only the best of the best get in. The sibling duo, Ayaka and Ayato have been in the club every year. They are a strong duo that sit on the executive board as co-vice presidents. They monitor all the try outs and select which member moves on to be officially in the group. They are very serious about their club, but have a sort of good cop bad cop dynamic with them. Ayato is more strict and critical while Ayaka is more likely to offer constructive criticism and help those in need. The president of the club is future lawyer Yanfei. Yanfei loves the club and makes sure the group is well trained for all competitions. Sara and Nahida are both members who are not on the board but they are still very engaged during the meetings.

Book Club:

The book club is a very chill club, as its presidents are pretty chill about it all, probably part of the reason the club is so popular. Every month a book is selected at each weekly meeting discussing what they have read so far, and at the end of the month they do a debrief. Lisa and Diluc are co-presidents and take turns selecting books for the club to read, though Dulic did set up a suggestion box for other club members to provide their input. The club's vice president is a bit more strict but at the same time more creative than the presidents. Yae likes to hold a competition at the end of each book where the club members rewrite the ending or specific scene, and then yae chooses her favorite as the winner and gives them a prize. She shares her own work with the group but after she gave herself the win 3 times in a row an executive decision was made to keep her work out of the running, for fear of bias. Secretary Xingqui is the groups editor, anyone can submit any work to him that he will edit for them, this can include essays for school, text messages, or creative writing. Heizou likes the club because it’s a quiet place to read and discuss the books he reads; he wishes the club would read more mystery novels. Ganyu and Al Haitham like the academic aspect of the club, they enjoy a quiet place to study and a group of like minded peers to run their work by. Mika and Layla like the club's casual environment and its non-intense atmosphere.

Business Club:

The business club was founded by Ninguang. It’s a relatively new club so it’s small but Ninguang has grand plans for it. Ninguang wants to offer financial advice to fellow students and open a school market for students to sell goods like clothes, baked goods, or art. Ninguang is passionate about the club and especially how nice it would look on her college application, but besides that she really does feel passionately about the project. Then there is vice president Dori, the thorn in Ninguang’s side. Dori has ideas, not very good or helpful ones, but they do qualify as ideas. Ninguang isn’t necessarily able to ignore Dori as she is half of the executive board. This club has a long way to go but Ningguang is ready to take on the challenge.

Student Council:

The student council is very intense. The president is the one and only Childe. He’s a popular boy who's smart and talented as well as extroverted and kind. He ran against Keqing who objectively would've been the better president based on organizational skills and ideas, but keqing did not have his level of charisma, so she sadly lost. She still got a position on the council as secretary and has a slight grudge against Childe. Vice president is the one and only Jean, she keeps everyone calm and keeps the ideas manageable. While everybody else on the board can come up with wild ideas, Jean is the one to reasonably analyze them and how practical they would be for the school. Yelan is the treasurer and a damn good one at thar, she works closely alongside the fundraising manager Noelle. Who is honestly just terrified of Yelan. Every conversation between the two of them just contains a lot of nervousness on Noelles part. And finally the person who connects the council to the people, social media manager Kokomi. She makes sure their social media accounts are very active and interacts with students as much as possible.

A/n: Ok was more than a day but I’m my defense uhhhhhh I was sick and AP tests. It’s ok. But yeah hope you like

#genshin hcs #genshin headcanons #genshin au #genshin impact high school au #genshin ayaka #alhaitham #kamisato ayato #genshin ayato #ayaka #ayaka kamisato #genshin venti #venti headcanons #al haitham #genshin impact modern au #genshin fluff #gi #genshin imagines #genshin kazuha #kazuha kaedehara #genshin kaedehara #kaedehara kazuha #diluc #diluc headcanons #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #gi diluc #genshin impact diluc #diluc genshin impact #genshin alhaitham

[glorified-red]

how does one build their portfolio as a writer/english major? how have you been building your portfolio?

and what you’ve heard as a EM, how do people(professional writers, professors,etc)view fanfiction? do they view it as a good writing practice? Or do they frown upon it?

~I’m honored to be your scribe anon ❣️

I'm so happy you like the name 🥺

So english majors come in a lotttt of different categories, similar to math majors, science majors, art majors, etc. At my college, theres three main categories of BA's:

English Literature

Technical Communications

Writing and Rhetoric

And Minors/Certificates:

English Literature

English Linguistics

Editing and Publishing

And depending on which major you're a part of, sometimes they make you pick a "specialization". Im in the Writing and Rhetoric major and here's the specializations:

Writing, Rhetoric, and Advocacy Specialization

Cultural Rhetorics and Writing Traditions Specialization

Professional Writing and Rhetoric Specialization

Technologies in Writing and Rhetoric Specialization

So your specialization depends on your career goals, so your portfolio will reflect both of those. Most of the time, you're required to put a porfolio together in order to graduate and you take classes throughout your degree that helps you create content to put into your portfolio. My senior year I literally have to take a class called "E Portfolio" where I put a porfolio together from my work.

Im not a writer, I'm an editor, so my portfolio is going to be based on experience instead of stories. I'm in a huge dictionary project where I'm one of the many editors for it, so that would go into my portfolio. Literature majors would probably have annotation and research based portfolios or writing based on many different genres. Linguistics majors don't really need a portfolio? Not that I know of. Technical Communication majors are very similar to editors.

So you can build your portfolio on your own, but college usually helps you along the way because assignments will force you to create content.

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

As for fanfiction?? Bro english majors are dorks. My entire LIN class is with fellow fanfic writers, DND players, fanfic readers, etc. All the laptops are FILLED with stickers of anime characters, genshin players, superheroes, etc. So the dorky english majors are probably in the fanon community on some level.

There are other english majors who are just art kids but they're nice. But then there are the snobby english majors who are the worst. Those majors are just assholes, steer clear. They judge you because you dont read "the classics" and don't analyze every book you read. They aren't the kind of people you want to hang out with regardless.

It just depends who you surround yourself with tbh. Most people view fanfiction as a hobby and nothing more. It's like if we met someone who crocheted as a hobby, you don't assume its gonna lead to them crocheting as a profession or let that influence their profession, its just a fun hobby. Same goes with fanfiction, its a hobby.

#asks #scribe anon

[ryukikiocspam]

My ocs but its vaguely comprehensive but no its not also i'm about to fall asleep i'll edit/update this. Later

This is so fucking cringe GRRR I hate writing my thoughts out! (Post under the cut)

Lucas Ward

he/him

A normal and uninteresting person, who has no notable qualities, and is definitely an average joe. He's just like any other 24 39 year old. Not a sci-fi flick inspired project created in a teenager's basement! Totally normal, obviously! What kind of child prodigy 16 year old gets bored and builds himself an android friend/brother? No one, nobody does that!

Victor Ward

he/him

Dr. Ward's geek older brother. 40 years old and still trying to win over his high school sweetheart. He can't flirt for shit, but he's got a heart of gold. Spends too much time playing video games, but he can make one hell of a casserole if you manage to get him off the computer. Who can blame him for being online all the time? He's a programmer, anyways. He's never done anything interesting. On an unrelated note, do you think that an artifical intelligence can have an anxiety disorder?

Candace [insert creative last name]

She/Her

Victor's best friend in high school and self proclaimed relationship expert, but somehow doesn't seem to notice how much Victor flirts with her. He thinks she's trying to hit on him when she calls him a dork, but that's just what she thinks. She's be brutally honest with you. Not just mean. Brutal. She'll make you cry if you let her.

[Post high school]

Ghostbusters sucked, Candice thought, until Emily showed up in her bedroom. Now, she's working as a shitty haunted house tour guide, and helps her ghost pal have the time of her after-life! And maybe figure out how all this ghost stuff works, anyways. What else is she supposed to do anyways? Stupid ghost. Stupid job. Stupid fucking everything.

Christina Baldwin

She/They

Romagyaru and also my beloved. I love lesbians

Tracy Miller

She/Her

An absolute angel! One of God's greatest gifts to this world! Tgirl swag.

Alex [trying to think of a last name]

They/them

The voice of reason among the idiots! They go with the flow, but will intervene if it gets too crazy. Everything in moderation. They're the most normal person here, I think.

Charlotte "Crimson" [lastname]

she/her

Created for a superhero roleplay with some friends in 8th grade. Absolute fucking menace. Edgy 12 year old who's really obviously an edgy 12 year old written by a fellow edgy 12 year old.

Crimson was orphaned, not in an edgy way, she just calls herself an orphan because she's been in the adoption system her whole life. That is, until she ran away to do crimes and general delinquency. Yeah. One day, Rick picked her up off the corner and since then, they've been a super cool father daughter duo that kicks ass. By kicks ass I mean she throws a tantrum and tapes some exacto knives to a swivel chair and beats someone to death with because he called her a kid.

She did cry afterwards. Then the apocalypse happened and we don't have much, but really? She's just hanging out in a dilapidated house playing monopoly with her dad and trying to contact anyone who might still be alive.

Rick (Not my oc, but very relevant to his universe)

he/him

Rick was my friend Ender's oc. After the roleplay chat became super inactive, he and I were the only ones still there, so we wrapped this shit up with one hell of a bang!

A genius college kid with a superiority complex gets on just about anyone's nerves, but Rick took that just a few steps further. Being natural rivals, the protagonist and Rick were constantly butting heads! Rick dropped out to do his own thing and prove to the world that he didn't need school and shit, he'd fuck some shit up all on his own, and he did. He made an iron man type suit out of whatever the fuck he could scrounge together and proved his worth to himself and everyone else. When our protagonist gets too cocky and fancies himself a hero, Rick found himself a daughter off the side of the street, they made an evil lair, and they caused the end of the damn world! Take that! Rick went from just a guy who needed to be told that he was good enough to a true villain who caused the end of the world with his found family daughter who saved him from a crumbling building as a thanks for getting her off the streets and into the best family dynamic that she'd never had. Now, he spends his time tinkering with radios, shooing off mutated creatures, and playing board games.

Goop Puddley

they/it/slime (slime preferred)

no real "lore" just a fucking sentient pile of slimey sludgey mess. i love this little funky lil skateboarding cool kid.

kid implies age but really? goop lacks age slime is just a fucking puddle. it does have a bit of form but slime will simply splat on the ground when bored. I've got at least 4 drawings of Goop in my notebook.

Emily [Lastname] (starts with b)

She/Her

A carefree girl and a self proclaimed "ditz", Emily [had an epic fail], leading to her untimely demise. By some miracle of fate, though, she gets to stick around as a ghost and still do teenager stuff. (I just wanted a cool ghost oc, okay?)

Michael Cambridge

He/Him

No, he's not Saul Goodman, he's a terrible man. A good lawyer, though. No degree, or any legal documentation of his existence, for that matter, but he's here, and pretty queer. And a pretty boy. Man? Creature? Demon? He's not human, that's for sure.

Sylvia Cambridge

She/Her

In middle school, no one reminded her to be careful of what she wished for. Now, she's got an overprotective demon/abomination/brother to hang out with her until she dies. Or something. She's still not sure if the price to pay is her soul or some entertainment. She's hoping it's the latter, but apart from that, her life isn't that interesting! Apart from the childhood trauma, the chunnibyo phase, the not-quite-normal boyfriend, the mortifying ordeal of being known, y'know, just normal stuff.

Gabriel Weiss

He/him

"It's not facism, it's a theocratic oligarchy, thank you." He's insane he's babygirl he's delusional he's normal he's an angel he's a liar he's a lunatic he's a horrible person he's my wife he's everything to me i hope he dies. This man thinks he's an angel but is just insane in the brain. Michael is not helping by encouraging said delusion. He attempts to kill everyone because "humanity has strayed too far from God's will" MY BROTHER IN CHRIST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? It's okay if i kill everyone though because i'm not human (i'm better) so im not going to heaven or hell. And michael doesnt care.

Olivia Harris

She/He/They/Every neopronoun

Wh-wh-wh-wh-what's good, sluts? The world's worst librarian is here to ruin your life. Her hobbies include taxidermies and giving terrible advice. And lying to Lucas about xer life. Most of them are movie plots. "Did you hear about that time my friend and I started an underground fighting group then became terrorists?"

#MY OCS #PINNED POST! FOR THEM! #i will edit this frequently #i hate having to explain things augh #long post

[igotanidea]

Hello, I was wondering if you also wrote about Sam Winchester? in that case you could write an AU! where Sammy has his own restaurant, he is a Chef, he works in the administration almost always and usually cooks once a week at the place, he falls in love with the reader. Age gap but everything legal, he cooks for her, she falls in love with his food! and the excellent sex with him

Hi there :)

Ngl, that does sounds good.

And got me thinking about "burned" with Bradley Cooper.

I'll do my best ;)

Edit: how about

She has just moved to the new city to college and what was better way to get acquainted with the surroundings and fellow students than having a little party?

Nothing, right? It was going to be all fun and kept under control right?

That’s what parents think when they give their kids a yes to throwing a house party, not what happens at college when students let loose. (seriously, watch any young adult movie and you’ll get my point).

...

#sam winchester x reader #nes rambles #anon asks

[solatgif]

TGIF: Roundup for April 7, 2023

Happy Easter! In case you missed it, check out our series of devotions for the season on Substack.

We published 4 new articles this week: The “Model Minority” Myth in the Asian American Church by Andrew Lee, 5 Lessons from the Japanese American Internment by Tom Sugimura, Good Grief by Linda Kim, and “Church History” for Kids and Adults: A Book Review.

This newsletter is one of the many ways you can keep in touch with us. Find us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. For more, check out my Asian American Worship Leaders Facebook group and TGIF Playlist on Spotify. You can reach me on Twitter and Instagram.

Aaron Lee, Editorial Curator

Enter to win these excellent books! Reviews are in the section below. Thanks to The Good Book Company and Robert J. Nash for providing these books for our giveaway, in partnership with my newsletters for @diveindigdeep and FCBC Walnut.

Articles From Around The Web

Heidi Wong: Gods and Gangsters

“Instead of gearing up for the next battle in the culture war, the church must first be willing to abandon the superfluous nature of its mansion in order to be set free from shackles that blind it.”

Samuel Lee: These 3 Japanese Christian Women Changed Their Country

“Meet an early evangelist, an education reformer, and a preacher who held Bible studies with the royal family.”

Daniel Jung: Narco Saints’ Drug-Dealing Pastor

“The Netflix series works as both crime drama and critique of Korean megachurch culture.”

The SOLA College Writing Cohort is our new writing cohort for college-age students to receive mentorship and training as young Christian writers. Editorial Board member Soojin Park will personally be leading this initiative, and she is very excited at the prospect of nurturing the next generation of Asian American thinkers and writers who will help encourage and edify the Church!

Books, Podcasts, Music, And More

TGC Front Row Seat Podcast: Moving to a New Place with Irene Sun

Kristen Wetherell and Kari Olson invite Irene Sun to discuss the challenges and joys of moving to a new place as a pastor’s wife. Irene shares her story of moving from Chicago to Pittsburgh, how prayer was her lifeline through every transition, and the importance of giving thanks to the Lord when we’re in a foreign land.

Gateway Chapel: Hanley Liu

Pastor Hanley reminds us of our deep need for living water that truly satisfies our souls – that all of humanity is in need of this living water. When Jesus was cut off from the living water on the cross, he made a way so that all who trust in him will never thirst again.

Aaron Lee: Related Works

Book Reviews: Wherever You Go, I Want You to Know… (Keepsake Edition) by Melissa B. Kruger, Say the Right Thing by Carolyn Lacey, God’s Not Done with You by John Meador, Words of the Resurrected by Robert J. Nash. Listen to our TGIF playlist on Spotify. Join my Asian American Worship Leaders Facebook group.

Check out the new edition of our SOLA Network Magazine! Download it for free and share it with your friends as a great way to be introduced to the work we do at SOLA Network.

Featured This Week On SOLA Network

Aaron Lee: “Church History” for Kids and Adults: A Book Review

“How did we get from the Great Commission to the modern church today? In Church History, Simonetta Carr presents the important people, places, and events of church history.”

Linda Kim: Good Grief

“When waves of grief wash over me in unexpected ways, I am letting the tears flow. I am inviting them in and allowing myself to sit in the grief because it helps me to know that Jesus sits with me.”

Tom Sugimura: 5 Lessons from the Japanese American Internment

“Although the mass evacuation and incarceration of Japanese Americans were neither right nor wise, the experience nevertheless enriched the church’s spiritual life as nothing else could have. Consider lessons the church today can learn as we minister to fellow believers who similarly face adversity.”

Andrew Lee: The “Model Minority” Myth in the Asian American Church

“Asian Americans continue to live in the liminal space of the margins. This is not to say Asian Americans have not gained that much in both secular and religious life. However, as the ‘model minority,’ we remain on the outside, looking to the majority for guidance and direction in matters of church and faith.”

TGIF: Roundup for March 31, 2023

Judgment for Pastors: How Shepherds Prepare to Meet Jesus / Resisting the Impulse of Self-Optimization / Chinese Christians Adapt Under New Restrictions / On the CROSS Conference / How God’s Daughters Can Create for His Glory

General disclaimer: Our link roundups are not endorsements of the positions or lives of the authors.

[tonkislim]

Austin graven

#Austin graven free#

I try to avoid meetings as much as possible. We have a huge Facebook following.ĮZ: Do you have a lot of meetings at the office?ĪB: I’m a hater of meetings. We have 1.5 million people on our email list (updated number). We have the biggest policy megaphone in the state. And then we do a ton of writing and a ton of engagement on social media. We do a lot of engagement with lawmakers personally in order to advance the policies that we think will better the state. We do a lot of storytelling work around public policy issues. After I graduated they had a job opening and I’ve been there since 2014.ĪB: Well, first I have to do background reading to find out what the political and policy narrative is at the state and local levels. That’s why I ended up there as an intern.

#Austin graven free#

I learned that if I chose the Illinois Policy Institute, I could live free at my parents’ house and still get to keep the housing stipend. or you can work at a state-based think tank. And one summer I applied for a program that offers students fellowships for think tanks. So then I went to college and studied that. Someone told me to listen to “Free to Choose” by Milton Friedman. It’s the best job ever.ĪB: When I was in high school I did yard work one summer and I’d just gotten a device that allowed me to listen to audiobooks. How fortunate for you.ĪB: Oh my gosh, yes. JW: And was this the sort of thing you aspired to do someday? Working for the Illinois Policy Institute? Analyzing social issues? Almost nobody gets paid to do that. JW: Which is what LT says about Oak Park/River Forest, by the way. JW: So in other words, Hinsdale is so much better than LT that when LT says “That’s our rival,” Hinsdale people say “No, not so much, you’re not there yet.” And Hinsdale Central has similar thoughts about LT. But if you ask someone from New Trier if they think that’s true they’ll dismiss you. JW: No kidding! Because, you know I’m a Lyons Township guy, which is Hinsdale’s rival.ĪB: Well, Hinsdale Central thinks New Trier is its rival. We also lived in Champaign before moving to the western suburbs. So as a kid I was throwing out candy in parades and stuff.ĪB: No. He ran for a congressional seat when we lived in Decatur. I moved around throughout the state as a kid, and then I went to college out east at Tufts University just outside BostonĮRIC ZORN (FELLOW PANELIST): Why did you move around the state so much as a kid?ĪB: No. My mom was a scientist at Northwestern University. JOHN WILLIAMS (HOST) : Tell us where you’re from.ĪUSTIN BERG: I was born in Evanston. Politics.” This interview, edited for length and clarity, was part of a Mincing Rascals episode in December, 2019 He is also the co-author of “The New Chicago Way: Lessons from Other Big Cities,” and he wrote the 2016 documentary film, “Madigan: Power. He is the Vice President of Marketing for the Illinois Policy Institute and a contributor to the Economist, Washington Post, Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times, ABC 7 Chicago and WTTW-Ch. Austin Berg, 29, is a regular panelist with me on the Mincing Rascals podcast at WGN-plus.

#Austin graven

[becblanc]

me, walking into CB2 having zero reason to be here except that i need a place to study and my own campus doesnt even have a library: how do you do, fellow scholars. yes I Too, Am A UCF Student.

#personal #how do you do fellow kids: college edition

[plutowrites]

HEY PLUTO i saw some basketball player eren fanart and it's taking over all my thoughts - 🌻 (giving myself my own emoji so you know who it is when i return)

HI SUNFLOWER BBY, WELCOME WELCOME!!

oh my... you're really enticing me with the whole basketball player thing....hmmm *sighs very very loudly* and yeah so ummm show me the fanart btw..for a friend. she wants to see it fr...

NBA player! Eren Jaeger

normally a shooting guard but does double up as a point guard when needed and was either scouted right out of high school or played college level basketball for one year before being in the draft

i see Eren having a college sweetheart and STICKING by them. the temptations of going to strip clubs and celebrity parties after winning games are strong but that's just not his scene and so he ditches them to either practice on his own some more or chill with you. his teammates try to lure him in by claiming it's mandatory for "team bonding" and shit but Eren just rolls his eyes and declines. he knows exactly how his fellow nba players are and he'd much rather not risk losing you by going.

he always plays with his hair tied back and some pieces sticking to his forehead from his sweat BUTTT he recently started wearing headbands to solve that problem and it looks really hot. im sorry it's true. brownie points for you for suggesting it to him.

you get to go to all-star weekend because Eren's one of the best in the league ofc and you love it because he treats it like a mini-vacation for you two. he doesn't take the all-star game too seriously, he sees it as some time away from the regular season. aside from the actual game, you two are attached at the hip the entire time. You spend most of the weekend going shopping, sightseeing, party-hopping and just dropping so much money.

speaking of money....we all know most nba players get insane salaries and Eren is rich rich. his money is your money. his money is more your money than it is his money tbh. all he asks is that you clear your schedule to sit courtside at all the home games. that's all. he wants to see your pretty face when he drains a three at the buzzer.

he won't beg you to go to away games or anything but he just gets so...moppy when you tell him you can't go to mf oklahoma and then washington dc the next day for his back to back games but you know deep down you're whipped for him and you genuinely enjoy watching him (he's a competitive beast and his passion shows on his face when he plays and it's one of the best sights ever) and so you do end up going to both.

you....ride for your man and he LOVES you for it. like when he can hear you cussing out some people seated next to you talking shit about him because he's good and beating their team's ass he gets butterflies lmao

always getting name dropped in rap songs and you like to listen to them and show Eren and he's all like pshh whatever but he's hype on the inside hehe

he has a really big thing with people using him for his fame and status. he's v selective with the people around him and can smell fakes out pretty easily. most of his close friends are people from his childhood, people who believed in him when he had nothing.

his love for the game is bigger than the league. during the off-season he is STILL involved with basketball. he sets up free camps for the kids in his hometown to learn basketball and literacy skills. what a man. i make him sound so good, you guys need to thank me.

sigh. you gotta deal with his other kind of fanbase. there's always at least one semi-famous fashion nova model sitting courtside trying to get his attention but you never really do anything. you don't have to. they never have a chance with Eren anyways. you can bring it up after like 'did you see that pretty girl beside me who wore that limited edition jaeger jersey and was constantly calling out your name' and he'll just look at you confused and be like 'why would you even ask? there's thousands of people in the stadium and im not going to notice anyone who's not you' <333

goes feral when you wear his jerseys. seeing his name on your back...yeah he goes ballistic.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren headcanons #eren yeager #pluto answers

[1kook]

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k 

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming. 

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education). 

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way. 

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms. 

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries. 

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable. 

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows. 

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.” 

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum. 

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close. 

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed. 

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin. 

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone. 

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress. 

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt. 

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite. 

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up. 

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks. 

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.  

It’s your turn to mope. 

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand. 

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses. 

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh. 

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels. 

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad. 

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“ 

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down. 

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome. 

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities. 

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about. 

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest. 

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover. 

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.” 

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee. 

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite. 

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now. 

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.” 

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold. 

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes. 

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon. 

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her. 

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown. 

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead. 

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear. 

It’s the hardest thing about parenting. 

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is. 

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show. 

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.” 

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years. 

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight. 

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now. 

A second later, “lemme join.” 

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick. 

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface 

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.” 

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions. 

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit. 

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky. 

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home. 

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now. 

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back. 

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice. 

Then, and apparently, now. 

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck. 

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together. 

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper. 

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt. 

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time. 

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips. 

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you. 

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long. 

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body. 

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him. 

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line. 

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could. 

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you. 

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist. 

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore? 

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.  

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?” 

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.  

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it. 

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you. 

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.  

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat. 

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt. 

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time. 

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.” 

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully. 

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole. 

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything. 

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can. 

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure. 

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time. 

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone. 

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped. 

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas. 

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever. 

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling. 

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence. 

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out. 

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch. 

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach. 

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys. 

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever. 

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.  

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.” 

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.  

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer. 

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off. 

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again. 

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific. 

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position. 

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you. 

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds. 

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him. 

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt. 

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip. 

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh. 

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you. 

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace. 

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out. 

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you. 

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones. 

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year. 

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace. 

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—” 

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well. 

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway. 

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy. 

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news. 

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you. 

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #knj fic #bts fic #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #mine

[ptergwen]

web of lies

take a leap. if you start to fall, the net will appear to catch you.

photographer!peter x journalist!reader || masterlist

w/c: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, one drinking mention, descriptions of anxiety, and angst if ya squint

summary: peter can’t stop holding your hands, betty and ned are the modern day bonnie and clyde, ned is a terrible guy in the chair, the osborn’s are up to something, and mj hates you all

a/n: y’all i’m super excited about this series like i haven’t had an idea i’ve really loved in months? so it’s good to be back !!! there are tons of things i have planned and i can’t wait to share them with all of you hehe i really hope you enjoy part one <3 happy reading

to be honest, which is what you do best, you’ve had a thing for peter parker your whole time at the daily bugle. you actually almost told him once.

a couple months ago, peter walked you home on a night you worked overtime. he’d came in last minute to leave some pictures on your boss’s desk. no one else but you was there, hunched at your computer in the dim office lighting. peter was pleasantly surprised to see you, yet concerned for your well-being. you had to put your finishing touches on a story.

he didn’t feel comfortable letting you travel alone at that hour. so, he went with you when you were ready. his company was more than welcomed. you told peter about your article while you two sat on the subway. he’d listened intently, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm around you. he made sure you got to your apartment building alright as well.

“hey, peter?” you’d asked, halfway up the steps. he was waiting until you were inside and safe to leave. “hm? you good?” he’d smiled sort of expectantly. “yeah. i... i wanted to say...”

your words got caught in your throat when he gave you the softest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. you couldn’t do it. for some reason, you were too scared to confess how you felt. “thanks again for walking me home,” you’d settled on. he’d seemed disappointed that was what you wanted to tell him. nevertheless, he said not to worry about it before taking off.

that one moment perfectly captures it all; how yours and peter’s narrative plays itself out.

—

“we’ve got an update on hydra v. the people!”

“those freaky giraffes escaped the zoo... again.”

“shoot one more spitball and it’ll be your last.”

“does anyone have an aspirin?”

welcome to the daily bugle, where the chaos never ends and the calm never starts. you’ll find new york’s finest writers, publishers, and creatives of all kind right here. that would include you. you’re one of the top journalists in the whole building, according to mr. norman osborn. he’s the brilliant and slightly insane man who runs this place.

although it’s rare for someone in your field, you were hired straight out of college. norman read a few pieces you’d written and loved them so much that he offered you a job. full time, full benefits, no questions asked. there was something special about the way you wove your words together. your writing had its own voice. a strong voice, one the paper was severely lacking.

you’ve been with the bugle for just over a year now. it’s not the quiet, nine to five gig you were initially expecting it to be. you’re each very unique individuals in your office, and there’s never a dull moment because of it. your coworkers can be found hosting debates on the riskiest topics or tackling each other for blueberry muffins, and that’s just a regular tuesday. the place is stranger than strange. but, it’s become home.

thanks to mr. osborn being so accommodating, you actually settled in rather quickly. another big help has been the friends you’ve made. your first was michelle jones, who prefers to be called mj. she’s a fellow journalist with a wickedly dark humor that trickles into her writing. if you had to describe her in one word, it would be blunt. mj is as real as it gets, and also eternally loyal. she keeps her circle small, so you’re honored you get to be in it.

mj sits right next to you, which means you’re always talking through your days. that’s due in part to the way your office is set up. there aren’t any cubicles, tables and swirly chairs taking up their space instead. norman heard it was more progressive, probably from his son harry.

harry is about your age, only a couple of years older. he hangs around quite a lot, but doesn’t do much with his time besides that. according to norman, he’s still seeking out his passion. he’s banking on him finding a suitable career at the bugle. he’d like to pass this all on to harry some day, hopefully sooner than later. either way, you don’t mind having harry here. he’s super funny and friendly with everyone.

there’s also ned leeds, who’s an editor and reviews most of your pieces. he’s sweeter than candy, even when he’s ripping your grammar to shreds. on the rare occasions you’re not discussing breaking news, you two talk about movies. ned is a film buff and gives you the best recommendations. you’re convinced he was a critic in his past life.

last but so from least is peter parker. he only works for the bugle part time, since he’s still in school. you both graduated from your respective colleges the same year. peter wants to get his masters degree, though. he’s a photographer who’s aspiring to be a cinematographer. him and ned have their passion for the industry in common, and that’s what makes them such great friends.

you learned this and more from the times you and peter have partnered up on stories. he’s one of your best friends not only at the bugle, but in your entire life. the many long nights you’ve spent collaborating have brought you close to each other. they consist of drinking and deep talks, along with some actual work. he takes the pictures, you do the writing. you’ve been told you make a lovely pair.

peter says it himself, too. you’d like to believe he means it as more than coworkers. he’s so caring, and smart, and pure, and peter. yeah, you like him an awful lot. you can hardly stand the feeling of it sometimes.

the fact that you you haven’t come clean already is ridiculous.

“goddamn. not again,” you mutter out. “em, you better come look at this. it’s bad.” mj wheels over to you in her chair with a puzzled look. her eyes follow yours, landing on your computer. “leeds just sent this? to everyone?” she questions, your reply a short hum. you’re both staring daggers at the email your screen displays.

ned is responsible for assigning each journalist their own topics to cover. he’s been lacking a bit recently, having you write up think pieces on fluffy things. in other words, stuff that no one cares about. he asked you to compare oat milk and almond milk just last week. you’d hoped this week would be better, but here you are.

“this is ass. who does he think we are, buzzfeed?” mj scoffs at her own words. the daily bugle prides itself on being a reliable news source, on paper and tv. you’re starting to stoop down to the low level of your competitors. “he assigned me some tiktok dance trend. i’m not writing a single word about that app.” she sets her elbows down on the table, head in her hands.

“aw, why not? grandma mj isn’t down with the kids?” you tease and click out of the upsetting email. “i don’t write for kids,” mj deadpans. she pushes her glasses up on her nose. “what’d you get?” “the evolution of memes,” you gloomily reply. you’re surprised norman has been approving these topics. then again, ned is the head editor. he can do whatever he wants regardless of approval.

mj glares over at the kitchen, where betty brant currently resides. she’s making two hot chocolates instead of her usual one. “i blame her,” mj mumbles to you. your eyebrows furrow. “dude, what? betty is an angel. she doesn’t even work in editing.” betty is the bugle’s highest rated anchorwoman. her and her news team are on people’s televisions every night.

“no, but she has been spending a generous amount of time with leeds,” mj grumbles. she’s admittedly very nosy. the upside is that she tells you any juicy office drama there is. “my theory is betty’s making him give us crap stories so she can report the good ones.” she glances over at you to see what you think. “no way. that can’t be allowed... or legal,” you laugh back.

as if on cue, ned appears next to betty in the kitchen. he takes the extra hot coco that’s piled high with whipped cream. betty tucks a sheet of paper into his suit pocket and kisses his cheek, then he’s gone. you can only gasp as you watch this unfold. what has she done to poor, clueless ned?

“not such an angel anymore, huh?” mj smirks in satisfaction. “suddenly, she has red horns and a pitchfork,” you bitterly agree with your tongue in your cheek. betty waves to you two on her way back to broadcasting. mj gives her a fake nice finger wave, you ignoring her. “we can’t sit back and let this happen, em. we have to do something,” you decide. “let’s tell norman.”

uninterested, mj takes off her glasses and starts to clean them. “like he’ll believe us. yeah, golden girl betty brant is sabotaging the writer’s room,” she rewords her previous statement to put its stupidity in perspective. you throw your hands up. “she is, though! we literally watched it happen!” mj puts her freshly wiped glasses back on and sighs.

“i doubt norman would care, y/n. every newspaper to ever exist is corrupt somehow.” your pessimistic old pal has a point. however, you’re not so willing to accept it. “why can’t we be the first one that isn’t?” you offer a small smile. mj snickers, wheeling back to her own computer. “those are words of the innocent.” she’s already tapping her fingers across the keyboard.

“i thought you weren’t doing the tiktok piece,” you say under your breath. you’re slightly pissed mj turned you down, since she’s the reason you know about betty’s meddling. “i’m not,” mj answers sharply. “i’m gonna email quentin and ask if we can change our topics. happy?” quentin beck is another editor in the building. he’s not bad, but he is intimidating. no one typically goes to him as their first option.

“i’m thrilled,” you confirm and grin at mj to emphasize it. “thanks for stepping up. you’re forgiven.” “i didn’t realize i had to be sorry,” mj notes, this time in a playful manor. she shakes her head as she begins writing. “you and your morals.”

what you value most in your career is honesty, under any circumstances. of course, the other daily bugle writers are the same. norman strictly prohibits clickbait and crazy headlines because that isn’t real news. you leave that to companies like buzzfeed. you’re honest in the sense that you say whatever has to be said, what everyone else is too afraid to. you’ll speak your truth no matter who tries to stop you.

it didn’t used to be that way. there’s some childhood trauma that remains deep in the back of your mind. you’ve left that behind you now, having over a decade to cope with it. hey, they say the past is in the past. what’s important is your takeaway, that you would never let yourself or anyone else be silenced from there on out. never again.

quentin ends up giving you the okay to write different stories. he lets you and mj choose choose your own because he’s got “better things to do” and you’re “big girls.” what a peach he is. mj goes with how capitalism is continuing to provoke global warming. she has something to say about every major world issue, and you admire the hell out of her for it.

you’re a bit stuck when it’s time to write your article. it’s terribly ironic because you pushed for this. you aren’t too worried, though. the city is crawling with material, so you’ll find what you’re looking for eventually. lucky for you, some much needed inspiration comes skipping out of the elevator.

“morning, peter,” you hear liz greet him at the front desk. she’s your floor’s receptionist. her wisdom and patience keep this place going. “hi, liz. how’s it going?” he asks. “things have been quiet... mostly. can i do anything for you?” liz peers up at him. peter sports a shy smile. “uh, yeah. mr. osborn wanted to see me?” “right. hang on.” she nods, dialing his office phone number.

it’s endearing how peter calls him mr. osborn, seeing as the rest of you go with norman. he’s probably the politest guy you’ve ever met.

grinning, liz puts down the phone. “you can go in whenever you’re ready. good luck!” peter laughs nervously and turns to leave. “thanks, you too.” his face falls when he realizes his mistake. “wait, i- i didn’t mean to say that. that was stupid. you’re not-“ “it’s fine, peter,” liz reassures him. his anxiety makes him trip over his words sometimes. that, and he’s a bit dorky in general. you find it rather adorable.

you also wonder what exactly he needs good luck for. he’s not even supposed to be working today, so your curiosity as to what’s going on has been piqued.

“um, i’m gonna go now. bye!” peter rushes off, his face tinted pink from the embarrassing encounter. you’re hoping he’ll stop and talk with you for a little while, but he heads straight to norman’s office. your whole body deflates at that. mj notices from her peripherals.

“what’s the matter? missing your hubby?” she coos, her words dripping in sarcasm. “no,” you lie. “i’m... i don’t know what to write about.” ok, there’s some truth. mj gives you a couple pats on the shoulder. “ask parker for help. you two work... well together. don’t you?” this must be the zillionth time you’ve heard that.

“we do,” you murmur and glance at norman’s closed door. peter is hidden behind it. “i just don’t wanna bug him. he has finals soon, and whatever norman is putting him up to. it’s my job, anyway.” mj pokes your arm. “those sound like excuses to me,” she concludes, still jabbing at you childishly. “you really just don’t wanna tell him you like-“

“can you keep it down?” you hiss, yanking your arm back. “he’s literally right over there.” peter stands up and shakes norman’s hand. you catch it through the blinds on his window. “y/n, you were drooling over his mere presence only minutes ago,” mj prefaces, a smile pulling at her lips. “you can handle three little words. i like you, that’s it. spit it out already.”

you’ll never admit this to mj, but she’s right. you lost your momentum after your first failed attempt to say the three little words. you’re still not sure what stopped you. you’d shared the details of that faithful night with her, and she’s been pushing you to try again since.

the door to norman’s office opens, and out walks peter. he’s beaming after their conversation, which seems like a good sign. harry passes peter on his way in to pay his dad a visit. he claps him on the shoulder, peter happily accepting before continuing his stride back into the main office. it takes a moment to register that he’s coming towards you.

you quickly set your focus back on your computer so he doesn’t think you’ve been watching him. even though, you definitely have.

“y/n!” peter calls your name. he’s on the opposite side of your table, in front of you. “peter!” you match his tone. “i was just dropping by. i thought i’d say hey while i’m here.” he’s still grinning. “what’re you doing?” he looks cute as ever in an oversized and cream colored sweater. his curls are slicked back with a tad too much product, cheeks rosy. you gaze up at him when he rests his arms on the table.

“pretending to be productive,” mj answers for you, pressing her lips together. peter cocks his head to the side. “pretending?” “ignore her. she’s being a shit stirrer today,” you explain. “like every other day,” he jokes, earning a laugh from you. mj just tuts and keeps writing. “talk about me like i’m not here,” she mumbles to herself, then gets back into her article.

“anyways, i thought you didn’t work today?” you ask to take the attention off yourself. also, because you’re curious. “oh! get this.” peter perks up even more, if that’s possible. he has energy like no other. “you know alex in broadcasting? betty’s camera guy?” “what about him?” you wonder. “he called in sick earlier this morning, with the flu or something.” he’s oddly excited to announce this. that prompts you to make a funny face.

biting back another smile, peter elaborates. “mr. osborn needed someone to fill in for him, so he picked me. i’ll be here all week.” it makes sense, since peter knows how to work a camera and does so wonderfully. you give him a celebratory push at his chest. “peter, that’s amazing! this is the perfect way to transition from pictures to film, right?” he’s nearing his finals at school, which consist of more movie-like projects. the news will be great practice.

then, he’s off to hollywood. you’ll put that out of your mind for now.

“exactly! i think it’ll be a good place to start. the pay isn’t bad either.” peter wiggles his eyebrows at you, you giggling once again. you do a lot of that when he’s around. that’s going to be more often now. “plus, i get to see you. everyone wins.” he squeezes your hand that was just on him. your heart begins to thump. “except alex,” you challenge, playing with his fingers. “but, for real. i’m happy you get to do this and that we’ll be spending more time together.”

“thanks, y/n/n. me too.” peter grins and leans over, taking a peek at your computer screen. there’s a blank word document on it. “you never told me what you’re up to,” he chuckles. “guess mj was right... nothing.” “i’m always right,” she chimes in from next to you. you look between the two of them with a scowl. “i haven’t found my story yet. i don’t know, this never happens.” peter nods as you share your dilemma. “no good ideas are coming to me,” you murmur.

“they will. you have a way of attracting things.” he licks his lower lip, your heart completely stopping this time. “well, i gotta go set up for rise and shine with betty brant.” he waves his hand like he’s presenting his words. that’s what betty calls her morning news segment. “be careful with her. she’s being really sketchy these days,” you warn peter, mj grunting in agreement.

confused, peter purses his lips. “really? ned says she’s a sweetheart. they’ve been going out for a while.” mj pops her head up and adjusts her glasses. “did ned also tell you she’s bribing him to give her all of our scoops?” she’s asking rhetorically because she already knows the answer. of course he didn’t. “it’s one thing to not like her. you’re just making things up now,” peter huffs.

mj kicks your foot under the table. “i told you no one would believe us. not even peter gullible parker.” “it’s benjamin,” he corrects her. “whatever,” she brushes it off, resuming her work.

peter does tend to be sort of naive, to only see the good in things when there’s plenty of bad. you’re the same in that way, unless you hang around mj for too long.

“is that true? betty’s stealing your stories?” peter turns to you and asks. you gesture to your screen. “i don’t have one, so you do the math.” he hums sympathetically. he’ll listen to you, never mj. “i’m sorry. thanks for telling me, y/n. i’ll watch out for her.” he bends his fingers to look like goggles, putting them around his eyes. you sigh lightheartedly.

“are you twenty two years old or twelve?” mj remarks, but not without a comeback from peter. “you’re, like, eighty five. worry about that.” they’ve had this type of banter for as long as you’ve known them. it’s equal parts amusing and exhausting. “don’t be late on your first day.” you snap peter out of it with a knowing smile. he returns it.

“i hope something crazy happens so you can write about it.” he’s walking backwards now, towards the elevator. “see you later, pete,” is all you say back, yet another laugh threatening to escape you. “see you. bye, michelle,” peter says just to bug her. “it’s mj,” she groans without looking up. he shrugs. “not so fun, is it?”

after peter is gone, you try to get back into work. or rather, you try to start your work. what he said about you having a way of attracting things keeps ringing in your head. was he flirting? no, he couldn’t have been. peter parker doesn’t flirt. words aren’t his strong suit, and you have countless memories that prove this to be true. earlier with liz, for example.

you’re probably reading way into this. peter was simply doing what any good friend would do and gave you advice.

it’s late in the afternoon when anything worth mentioning happens again. peter is still with betty, as far as you know. they’re probably preparing for the nighttime news now. all you’ve done since seeing him is nibble on snacks and bug mj, who’s almost done with her story despite your distractions. this is really bad, considering your deadline to submit is at the end of today.

you’ve never missed a deadline.

mj emails her work to quentin while you repeatedly bang your head on the table. she hits send before deciding to entertain you. “whatcha doing over there?” she cautiously prompts, powering off her computer. “trying to get an idea. i’m desperate, if you couldn’t tell.” your voice is muffled. “i could.” mj grabs your shoulders and pulls you back so you’re sitting up. you childishly pout.

“y/n, the only thing that’s gonna give you is brain damage,” mj says sternly, then softens her tone. “why don’t you ask for an extension? norman gives me them all the time.” whining, you slump down in your chair again. “yeah, but you’re you! we do things differently, have different expectations put on us.” she’s back to cold mj after you say that. “alright. at least i did something today besides pine over that little-“

mj’s insult for peter is interrupted by harry. “ladies, what’s shaking?” he comes up to you two with a the hint of smirk on his face. you manage a nod to acknowledge him. “oh, hey... harry,” mj unenthusiastically replies. she’s the one person who isn’t really a fan of him. “not much. y/n was just having a tantrum.” “she was not,” you dismiss her. “it’s work stuff. you know your dad.”

harry clicks his tongue in a teasing way. “yep, the grind never stops in this joint. boss man is...” he does the sign for cuckoo with his finger. you laugh a little at that. “in a good way,” you add on. mj only watches you two, blinking blankly. harry gives you a definitive pat on the back. “before i forget, he wants to see you.” that gets mj talking. “norman?” she questions. “your dad?” you choke out at the same time.

“who else? he said you two have to talk.” harry flashes you a weary smile. “have fun in there, old sport.” you’re too busy biting the skin off your bottom lip to respond. “mhm... she will,” mj speaks on your behalf. even she sounds worried. saluting you both, harry leaves to go pester your other colleagues. you’re completely and totally fucked.

“that’s it for me!” you grin sarcastically, freaked out by harry. “i’m fired, aren’t i? i’m definitely about to get fired, and it’s all because-“ “relax!” mj cuts off your rambling. she reaches down and grasps at your wrists. “get it together, y/l/n. you’re the best we have, okay? you aren’t going anywhere.” your grin becomes a frown. “then why does norman wanna talk to me? and, why don’t i have a story?”

mj always has the answers, but this time is the execption. she lets out a breath. “i don’t know. you’ll go find out and tell me what happens.” there’s no use protesting. you’re going to have to face whatever you’re about to at some point. “ok,” you give in, defeated. “i’ll be back soon, i hope.”

the walk to norman’s office feels like a walk of shame. mj can do nothing but sit back and observe it. if this ends the way you think it will, you’ll be collecting your things and won’t ever return. norman is a kind man, and he’s usually pretty understanding. he doesn’t mind the workplace shenanigans as long as you get your job done. unfortunately, you haven’t today.

you hear your boss’s booming voice when you approach his door. inhaling deep, you knock on it, and the room goes silent. “come in,” norman responds after a few seconds. mustering up a smile, you open the door to be met with your doom. “hi, am i interrupting something?” you check. “not at all! you’re just the person i wanted to see. sit, sit,” he beckons you over. he’s not using his angry voice, so maybe you’re in the clear. you enter the room as told.

you’re shocked to see a terrified peter is already in one of the chairs. he visibly relaxes a bit now that you’re here. what the hell is happening? whatever you were expecting, this was the last thing.

taking the armchair next to peter, you sit facing norman’s desk. you nudge his arm to get his attention. his big brown eyes lock with yours. “what’s going on?” you whisper. “no idea,” peter whispers back. the two of you turn to norman again when he claps his hands. he’s plopped down into his cushy leather seat.

“so,” he begins, gaze flicking from peter to you. “you kids know why you’re here?” “is it because i missed my deadline?” you blurt out. you’re once again a nervous wreck. peter doesn’t speak, just winces. “not that. although, i did hear from ned that you turned down his assignment.” norman flicks at a post-it on his desk. “i asked quentin for one instead. me and mj,” you explain, peter’s eyes going wide.

“you talked to quentin? that guy’s bad news,” he murmurs to you. “how so?” norman questions, since it’s his employee. “he- he, um,” peter clears his throat before answering, “he’s super critical, you know? hates all my pictures.” “i love your pictures,” you assure him, the corners of his lips turning up. “your style is so cool. yeah, though. quentin’s pretty bitter.”

considering this, norman drums his fingers on the desk. “i’ll look into that. but, that isn’t why you’re here. i’m letting you off the hook this time.” your whole demeanor changes and a huge weight lifts off of you. “really? you are?” “i have a scoop of my own that i want you to cover,” he continues, peter bumping your knee happily. a toothy grin takes over your face.

“since peter will be sticking around for a while, i want him to join you.” norman waits a beat in case you have any questions. it’s been a minute since you last worked together. peter laughs in disbelief. “you want me to take over for alex and do this?” norman nods proudly. “y/n will need the extra hands, if you have them.” “yes, sir. i do,” peter immediately confirms. “my last class is next thursday, so i have the time.”

“wait, so you’re almost done? that’s awesome!” you bump peter’s knee this time. “yup, all that’s left is finals... and studying.” he mindlessly takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. you’re enjoying his gentle touches. “thank you so much, norman. seriously, i appreciate this a lot,” you tell him and mean it. “hey, no problem,” he chuckles at your eagerness. you grip peter’s hand tighter.

“what’s the story?” “ah, yes. the most important part,” norman starts, peter sharing an excited look with you. “how familiar are you two with spider-man?” his excitement fades at the question posed. it’s unbeknownst to you, caught up in the moment. “uh, same as everyone else, i guess,” you casually reply. “how come?” “he’s your subject.” norman points at you both. “you’re gonna study him over these next few months.”

peter’s hand goes limp in yours, and he gulps hard, throat feeling dry. “you mean, like, an exposé?” “no, no. there will be no exposing,” norman clarifies. “i’m sure he wears the mask for a reason.” that settles peter only slightly. you’re not sure why he’s so tense all of a sudden. “what’s our aim here, then?” you steer the conversation.

“see what new york’s favorite hero gets up to every day, how his life is beyond the crime fighting,” norman further describes your task. peter exhales a shaky breath, shifting away from you in his seat. the golden sun hits his face and reveals a bead of sweat dripping down it. you stare at his figure in worry. “you okay, peter?” “fine. i’m just... hot,” he murmurs back. his sweater does look pretty heavy, so you concede.

getting back to norman’s story, you grimace at the idea. “do you really think people will want to read that? for lack of a better term, it sounds kind of...” you pause. “basic.” “i thought the same thing at first,” he surprisingly agrees with you. “harry pitched the idea to me this morning. you won’t believe it! the other night, he caught spider-man hanging outside his window.”

“harry... harry saw him?” peter squeaks out. he uses the wool material that feels like it’s swallowing him to dab at his forehead. “he stopped on his balcony. must have been pretty late, the kid’s a night owl,” norman says about his son. your face lights up as you listen to him. “he took some shots of spidey in action, when he swung off. i saw a few. they were pretty great.” he’s grinning at his son’s success.

“maybe he’ll get into photography with you, pete,” norman suggests. peter gives him a weak smile in return. “we’d be happy to have him.” he usually has a lot more to say about his career than that. his behavior is starting to genuinely concern you. “anyway,” norman gets back on topic, “it got me thinking. how much do we really know about this guy? we’re supposed to blindly put our trust in him?”

you’re beginning to see the appeal now. you’ve written your share of pieces on the avengers and their methods, tackling the same questions norman just asked you. spider-man shouldn’t be overlooked, especially when he operates so close to your home. this could be another revolutionary superhero story in the making. and, you get to bring peter along for the ride.

“you know what? this has a lot of potential,” you smile at norman, then peter. he has his phone in his lap, fingers flying across the screen. it must be something important. you’ll discuss with norman while he takes care of that. “we could make it a weekly thing, about spider-man’s adventures. find out what we can about the man behind the mask...” peter shoots up in his seat. “without taking it off,” you finish, putting his mind at ease.

“see, i knew you were gonna love it! it was a blessing in disguise, you missing that deadline.” norman bangs his fist on the table with a hearty laugh. “what do you say, peter? you still in?” peter slips his phone back in his pocket. his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. “oh, of course. i can’t wait to work with you, y/n/n,” he speaks in a monotone voice, adding on, “again.”

something is definitely bothering him, and it isn’t the weather.

“i gotta go. betty needs me upstairs, so,” peter moves to get up, his body stiff. you assume that’s who he was texting. “thank you again, mr. osborn.” he’s rushing out of the room just like that, until you call after him. “um, don’t you wanna set a time to meet up? so we can get started?” you reasonably ask. “i... i really gotta go. find me later,” peter tells you, giving you both a tight lipped smile and running off.

“the dynamic duo is back!” norman announces to you. you’re disappointed you can’t share that sentiment with peter.

he’s absolutely booking it down the stairs, not bothering to wait for the next elevator. this is bad. this is a nightmare.

peter went from having one of his best days in a while to the worst in not even a full round of work. today started off fine, and got better when norman promoted him. it got way better when you came along. he saw your smile that makes his insides tingle, heard your laugh that’s the prettiest sound to grace his ears, held your hand that he never wants let go.

things went a bit downhill after that. betty was pushy and yelled at him a lot, demanding he only film her good angles for the segment. you and mj weren’t wrong when you told him to be careful.

later on when he saw you again, everything was okay. he was physically shaking as brad told him mr. osborn requested to see him. brad is mr. osborn’s assistant. a try-hard for sure, but good at his job. why did mr. osborn call him in? did betty complain already?

they’d been sitting in mostly silence, save for small talk until you came knocking on the door. simply being next to you was enough to ground peter and his racing thoughts. it was enough, then it wasn’t.

the whole day had gone to shit after he found out you were going to be writing stories about his alter ego. not only that, but he was helping. during the pitch, he’d texted ned to meet him in the bathroom. he was really anxious and needed a friend who understood why.

ned accidentally found out peter is spider-man last year. it’s a long story that involves peter hiding from some bad guys in the building and ned shrieking so loud the lights flickered. they’re cool now that peter talked things through with him. his secret has been kept, from what he knows.

pushing open the men’s bathroom door, peter is a mixture of sweat and ragged breaths. he’s panting from his fast descent down the staircase. he takes in his disheveled appearance using one of the mirrors. his styled hair is now damp and undone, hands trembling and palms sweaty, chest heaving. here’s his daily reminder that anxiety is not cute. as if he didn’t know.

his stupid, gigantic freaking sweater is only making things worse. it’s suffocating him. no one else is in here, so peter pulls it over his head and tosses it to the ground. he’s got a t-shirt on underneath that happens to be black. what a convenient day for him to wear the hottest material there is.

peter splashes his face with some cold water next to try and cool himself down. that doesn’t do much for him. his face still feels like it’s on fire, but now it’s wet. he takes his hands through his mop of curls, backing away from the sink.

“fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck,” peter repeats to himself. he’s silent for a moment, then rage overcomes him. he kicks open a bathroom stall. “shit! i can’t do this. what am i supposed to-“

the door creeks open, so peter shuts up in case it isn’t ned. it thankfully is, and he wears a deep frown at the sight of his best friend. “dude, what happened? you look...” “terrible. i know,” peter finishes for him. he tugs at his locks in another attempt to tame them. ned approaches him carefully. “you’re not, like, dying... are you? because betty was telling me you have to-“ “of course you were with betty,” peter exhales in frustration. “no, ned. i’m not dying.”

in ned’s defense, the text he received was very alarming. all peter wrote was, ‘EMERGENCY. SOS.’

“i mean, yeah. it was my break.” ned sits on the ledge by the window, close to peter. “you do the same with y/n.” the mention of your name upsets peter all over again. he hides his face in his hands as ned watches. “if you’re not dying, then what’s the problem?” ned finally asks. “me and y/n...” peter removes his hands from his face, meeting ned’s worried eyes. “mr. osborn wants us to do a project together.”

“uh, peter? you’ve been saying how much you miss her forever, dude! you’re not excited?” ned snorts at him. he means well, but he has no clue what he’s talking about. “no. it’s supposed to be about spider-man,” peter answers angrily. this isn’t the support he was hoping for. realizing the severity of the situation, ned gets serious.

“oh... but, you’re still doing it?” he questions. “i didn’t have a choice,” peter scoffs out. “i can’t let either of them down.” “you’ll expose yourself!” ned escalates things further. “it’s not like that. we’re gonna follow spider-man around and post updates on him,” peter says, technically in the third person. he’s given an are you insane? look from ned.

“you are spider-man! and, no offense, but you’re not so good at hiding it,” ned refers to himself finding out. “how are you gonna be in two places at once?” damnit, peter hadn’t thought about that yet. he can’t be taking pictures of spider-man and swinging from building to building simultaneously. “i- i’ll figure it out,” peter stammers, unconvincingly.

ned looks him over in a disapproving way. “jeez. you’re really putting your life on the line for this girl-“ “woman,” peter interjects, not loving ned’s attitude towards you. “have some respect.” unfazed, ned gets up from the windowsill. “speaking of women, remember betty? you’re still on the clock,” he changes the subject. peter nearly forgot he has to go film her segment.

“i’ll head up to her now,” peter gives in. he scoops up his discarded sweater, not bothering to check his appearance again. ned follows behind him to the door. “we wrote her script together, you know,” he gladly informs peter, who already knows from you. “not really a flex,” peter mumbles his response. “peter, lighten up.” ned hits at his shoulder. the two of them exit the bathroom.

“you’ll figure this out later. i can always help.” he shoots him a sugary sweet smile. “thanks, ned. for talking with me and everything.” peter doesn’t smile back. they do a quick bro handshake, then they’re going their separate ways. “have a good show, dude!” ned yells back, to which he doesn’t get a response. peter doesn’t have it in him.

he allows himself to take the elevator back up to broadcasting. he’s so drained from the several anxiety attacks he endured. while peter waists for the elevator, he contemplates all the issues he’d better solve. it’s a relief to hear it ding because it brings him back to earth. that doesn’t last long because both you and betty are there when the door opens.

you’d each had the same idea, to find peter. unlike betty, your intentions were good. you asked liz if she saw peter leave. she told you he went downstairs, so you did also. betty was already in the elevator when it got to your stop. she was looking for him because, you guessed it, he had to record the news. the small space was filled with tension as you and betty occupied it.

“perfect. we’re going right back up,” betty beams, motioning for peter with her index finger. “hop in!” “coming,” peter does as told, going to stand between you and betty. she presses the button for your floor and theirs. the doors close. “pete?” you speak up, voice soft. “you kinda ran off earlier. i thought you were with betty.” “clearly, he wasn’t,” betty sneers.

you’re less concerned with her and more with peter. the sweater he looked so huggable in is now folded in his arms, his face splotchy and jaw clenched. he must have gotten triggered by something back in norman’s office.

“are you sure you’re okay? you... you can talk to me about it.” you take a step closer to peter, your doe eyes searching for his. he meets them with a tiny smile. at least, it’s real this time. “i’ll be fine, y/n/n. ‘s nice that you came to check on me, though.” “don’t mention it.” your arms loop around his neck and bring him into a hug. peter hugs you back by your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, breathing out in relief.

you keep your hands on his shoulders when you pull back. his stay on your sides, a lopsided grin now crossing his features. “spider-man...” you quirk an eyebrow. “how are you feeling about that?” “should be cool,” peter somehow maintains himself. “i’m mostly looking forward to doing it with you.”

listening in, betty joins the conversation. “what’s happening with spider-man? anything i should know?” her hand reaches into her bag and emerges with a notepad. does she ever think of her own content? “she’s nothing if not persistent,” you grumble to peter. chuckling, he pulls you into his chest. if he didn’t hold you back, you would’ve pounced on her.

“we’re gonna do a piece on him,” peter tells her. “you can’t copy or steal this one because it’s already been approved,” you contribute, smiling smugly as peter holds you tighter. betty is taken aback. “are you accusing me of stealing? who said i-“ “ned ratted on you... sorry,” peter says in a sing song voice. squealing, you jump away from him. “he did? we were right?”

“mj’s never wrong,” he reiterates. “mj knew about this? oh my god, i can’t believe her!” betty stomps her foot. “we got you on candid camera.” you make a clicking noise with your mouth. peter mimes taking a picture to back you up. “alright, alright. i won’t do it again,” betty mumbles, turning away from you two in annoyance.

“finally!” you hold up your hand for a high five, which peter gives you. “we really do make the best team,” he hums. your fingers intertwine with peter’s, and he lays his palm flat against yours. he prays extremely hard you don’t notice that it’s sweaty. you do, but you couldn’t care less.

“i was wondering when you’d wanna start our... research?” peter asks you, his lip between his teeth. “you were saying something earlier. maybe we could make a schedule.” “how elaborate of us that would be,” you tease. that earns a breathy laugh from peter. with a knowing smile, you put your free hand back on his shoulder.

“what are you doing tonight?”

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peter parker taglist

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