fields of vision

balance cast ranked by spider

magnus: don’t let spiders near this man. he will cry. 0/10

merle: is okay with spiders. nature has lots of spiders in it.  6/10

taako: kills all spiders on sight 3/10 

carey and killian: both compete to see who can kill the spider first. 8/10

angus mcdonald: puts spiders outside if he finds them in his home 7/10

johann: ignores spiders until they leave his field of vision 2/10

avi: filled an entire pod with spiders and shot it at lucas’ lab 10/10

lucretia: neutral to spiders. doesn’t want to touch them but knows they are important 5/10

davenport: a spider landed on the dashboard of his pilot’s console once and he almost crashed the ship 4/10

barry: i’m pretty sure barry would eat spiders if you asked him to 10/10

lup: i’m pretty sure she asks barry to eat spiders 9/10

john: “average person eats 3 spiders a year" factoid actualy (sic) just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. John Vore, who lives in the hunger & eats over 100,000,000 each cycle, is an outlier adn should not have been counted

kravitz: pays birds to eat all spiders within a 10 foot radius of him 9/10

magic brian: geez. golly. i have no idea. how do i rank this dude that calls himself the black spider this is IMPOSSIBLE 

bryan: is spider. 11/10

When she hears a soft tapping on her window five minutes after the Miraculous Cure goes out, her stomach pitches forward. Greyling hovers at the pane, a strained look on his face and a hand cupping his right shoulder.

Something happened after she’d left. After the cure.

Something magic couldn’t fix.

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One of the chief barriers people learning to project face is fear.  Many are afraid that they may die, or be harmed in some way as a result of their projection. Once you can counteract this fear you can begin trying to project.  

Step one:

Relax the body. According to Monroe, “the ability to relax is the first prerequisite, perhaps even the first step itself” to having an OBE. (out of body experience) This includes both physical and mental relaxation. Monroe does not suggest a method of attaining this relaxation, although Progressive Muscle relaxation, coupled with deep breathing exercises (inhale 1, exhale 2, inhale 3…. until 50 or 100) are known to work well.

Step two:

Enter the state bordering sleep.  This is known as the hypnagogic state. Once again, Monroe doesn’t recommend any method of doing this.  One way is to hold your forearm up, while keeping your upper arm on the bed, or ground. As you start to fall asleep, your arm will fall, and you will awaken again.  With practice, you can learn to control the Hypnagogic state without using your arm.  Another method is to concentrate on an object.  When other images start to enter your thoughts, you have entered the Hypnagogic state.  Passively watch these images.  This will also help you maintain this state of near-sleep. Monroe calls this Condition A.

Step three:

Deepen this state. Begin to clear your mind.  observe your field of vision through your closed eyes.  Do nothing more for a while. Simply look through your closed eyelids at the blackness in front of you.  After a while, you may notice light patterns.  These are simply neural discharges.  They have no specific effect.  Ignore them.  When they cease, one has entered what Monroe calls Condition B.  From here, one must enter an even deeper state of relaxation which Monroe calls Condition C– a state of such relaxation that you lose all awareness of the body and sensory stimulation.  You are almost in a void in which your only source of stimulation will be your own thoughts.  The ideal state for leaving your body is Condition D.  This is Condition C when it is voluntarily induced from a rested and refreshed condition and is not the effect of normal fatigue.  To achieve Condition D, Monroe suggests that you practice entering it in the morning or after a short nap.

Step Four:

Enter a state of Vibration. This is the most important part of the technique, and also the most vague.  Many projectors have noted these vibrations at the onset of projection.  They can be experienced as a mild tingling, or as is electricity is being shot through the body.  /their cause is a mystery.  It may be the astral body trying to leave the physical one.  For entering the vibrational state, he offers the following directions:

1. Remove all jewelry or other items that might be touching your skin.

2. Darken the room so that no light can be seen through your eyelids, but do not shut out all light.

3. Lie down with your body along a north-south axis, with your head pointed toward magnetic north.

4. Loosen all clothing, but keep covered so that you are slightly warmer than might normally be comfortable.

5. Be sure you are in a location where, and at a time when, there will be absolutely no noise to disturb you.

6. Enter a state of relaxation

7. Give yourself the mental suggestion that you will remember all that occurs during the upcoming session that will be beneficial to your well-being. Repeat this five times.

8. Proceed to breathe through your half-open mouth.

9. As you breath, concentrate on the void in front of you.

10. Select a point a foot away from your forehead, then change your point of mental reference to six feet.

11. Turn the point 90 degrees upward by drawing an imaginary line parallel to your body axis up and above your head.  Focus there and reach out for the vibrations at that point and bring them back into your body.

Even if you don’t know what these vibrations are, you will know when you have achieved contact with them.

Step five:

Learn to control the vibrational state.  Practice controlling them by mentally pushing them into your head, down to your toes, making them surge throughout your entire body, and producing vibrational waves from head to foot.  To produce this wave effect, concentrate of the vibrations and mentally push a wave out of your head and guide it down your body. Practice this until you can induce these waves on command.  Once you have control of the vibrational state, you are ready to leave the body.

Step six:

Begin with a partial separation.  The key here is thought control.  Keep your mind firmly focused on the idea of leaving the body. Do not let it wander. Stray thought might cause you to lose control of the state.

Now, having entered the vibrational state, begin exploring the OBE by releasing a hand or a foot of the “second body”.  Monroe suggests that you extend a limb until it comes in contact with a familiar object, such as a wall near your bed.  Then push it through the object. Return the limb by placing it back into coincidence with the physical one, decrease the vibrational rate, and then terminate the experiment.  Lie quietly until you have fully returned to normal. This exercise will prepare you for full separation.

Step seven:

Dissociate yourself from the body. Monroe suggests two methods for this.  One method is to lift out of the body.  To do this, think about getting lighter and lighter after entering this vibrational state.  Think about how nice it would be to float upward.  Keep this thought in mind at all costs and let no extraneous thoughts interrupt it. An OBE will occur naturally at this point.

Another method is the “Rotation method” or “roll-out” technique.  When you have achieved the vibrational state, try to roll over as if you were turning over in bed.  /do not attempt to roll over physically.  Try to twist your body from the top and virtually roll over into your second body right out of your physical self.  At this point, you will be out of the body but next to it.  Think of floating upward, and you should find yourself floating above the body.  Monroe suggests you begin with the lift-out method, but argues that both are equally efficacious.

Source: Scared text archive & (Taken from Leaving the Body: A Complete Guide to Astral

Projection, D. Scott Rogo, prentice Hall Press)

As Always


Laundry Day (M)

word count: 5k

genre: smut; domestic au

pairing: reader/jeongguk

warning(s)/kink(s): dry humping, clothed sex, dirty talk, swearing, fantasizing, slight nipple play, teasing

summary: jeongguk always pioneered one household chore: laundry. now why he had such an affinity for it, you had no idea. that is, until you come home and he lost track of time, causing you to stumble upon him in the midst of something strange and yet altogether intriguing.

music: work out - j.cole ; touchin’, lovin’ - trey songz ft. nicki minaj 


gif credit

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Day One Hundred and Eight

-I heard a child’s voice shout, “Cowabunga!” They were not within my field of vision, so I cannot confirm the type of gnarly stunts that they have just pulled, but I am certain that they were suitably sick.

-Readers of these stories will know that I place a great deal of value in returning shopping carts to their rightful place post-purchase, but I would like now to add a stipulation to this rule. You are more than welcome to abandon motorized carts anywhere you may please. I will never complain about being paid to drive a go-kart through the store.

-A woman waved a Lego Batman backpack at me, asking if it was a good size for a four year-old. I was unsure whether she meant for one to carry or for carrying one. I nodded either way.

-A child demanded a toy despite his mother saying no and having to wrench it out of his hands. I placed it in a bin behind my register and continued the transaction, only to find the child behind the register with me, stealing the toy back. As his mother caught him, he threw himself to the floor and tried to crawl his way back to the toy, wailing and clawing as his mother held him by the ankle. His passion and perseverance will carry him far in life, and if he learns that shrieking and sneaking do not go hand in hand, and that he, more often than not, will lose in a battle of brawn with an opponent who can pick him up in one arm, nothing will be able to stop him.

-A three year old grew very concerned as I handed them a sticker, explaining that they weren’t sure if they could leave the store with it. Never has a face been filled with such a combination of ecstasy and disbelief as theirs when I told them that they could.

-A kind man purchases a few toys for his granddaughter. I slipped a handful of stickers into her bag as I handed it to her, and he slipped something to me in turn as I handed his receipt to him. It was not until they had already left that I looked down to see that if was an origami ring fashioned out of a dollar bill. I firmly believe this to be how all transactions should be carried out.

-My understanding of my luck has been reaffirmed today. Despite months of being perfectly cognizant and present for guests that will likely never give me a second thought, it was today that, in a state well beyond cold-induced delirium and incoherency, three readers recognized me and chatted with me for a while. I appreciate their kindness, but I hope their first impression is not one that will last.


Aight here we gooo

  1. Don’t think about when it’s due, think about when you can get it done by. Always try to get work done as soon as you get it, because the information/motivation is a lot more likely to make you productive immediately after. Don’t backward plan and leave things to the last minute.
  2. Research your course. Find out about the electives you have to take, the ideal course load and the progression requirements. Don’t graduate a semester late because you forgot to take one 1000 level English course.
  3.  Make a nice schedule! You’re going to be stuck with this for a year, so definitely invest a couple hours into making a good one. (Separate post on drafting a schedule coming up.)
  4. Try to live on campus, preferably in a traditional dorm set up. Not only does it improve the ‘college experience’ but also really helps with networking. 
  5. Do not invest in a loooot of expensive stationery. I know, I know, ironic to say as a studyblr. But coming out of high school where we all took notes on paper, a huge stationery haul might be obvious. But definitely wait a couple weeks into school to see if you want to stick to paper notes or if you’re more comfortable with the laptop. 
  6. Sit. At. The. Front. Beginning in the first week. Freshman year, it’s super tempting to abuse your freedom and just not show up to class. It is imperative that you put yourself in the field of vision with the teacher, not only to make a good impression but also to hold yourself accountable to actually show up to class, because the professor will probably notice your absence and might discount you a little bit. It also helps with the ‘halo effect’, where you stand out right in the beginning, and that’ll tide you over. 
  7. Don’t just show up to office hours, take your notes/solve a mock paper, and get feedback. Doing this a couple times before the exam will help you put together the perfect rubric for answering just about any style of question. If it’s an essay course, the teacher will often make corrections and even send you helpful resources to improve. 
  8. Create/join a Facebook group for your subject, and exchange notes with people over there. It’s reassuring to know you have a backup if you skip class.
  9. Try to inform your professor before hand if you’re skipping class. This policy might be different for different schools, but telling your professor ahead of time that you won’t be attending, or even just shooting them an email at the time of class might help with making up for lost time, extra credit, and being able to skip with more ease in the future, since the prof thinks you’re serious about this class.
  10. Spend the summer before college chilling, yes (I’ve written a post about it here). But also check this out to make it a little more productive, and learn a few handy day to day skills. 

Pt. 2 about college scheduling will be up tomorrow!


Wearing  ✶   ASOS Curve red gingham dress {also available in the main range and maternity}  ✶  Jeepers Peepers pink round sunglasses  ✶  Last summer’s d’orsay flats {similar in wide widths here and also here}  ✶  Brit Stitch Half Pint red leather satchel  ✶  With Lavender and Lace blush pink velvet hair bow {similar here

External image

A few things occurred to me the day I wore my new red gingham dress to go to a cute cafe and indulge in cappuccinos and chocolate cake.

One: You can never be too old for a good hair bow. Especially if it is velvet. I’m wearing a hair bow at 32 and I’ll wear one at 64.

Two: Red and pink is a dream combination for all things cute, romantic and retro. You can’t go overboard with red and pink because it’s already there. You can only make it greater and better. I went the classic route with this ASOS Curve red gingham dress and added touches of pink and more red everywhere else. (Red gingham for summer, how original etc.!)

Three: This dress is massive. I mean I love massive but this is too big even for my preferences. I generally wear a 18-20 at ASOS, this is a Curve 20. I had to get this dress hemmed by about 3 inches so it wasn’t swamping me. If you have your eye on this piece, sizing down would probably be a good idea.

And four: I’m a ridiculously dressed fatty eating chocolate cake all by myself at a cafe while my photographer snaps photos of this event. This is what living my best life looks like. And I don’t mean that in a self deprecating way. Outfits that verge on the ridiculous are my jam. Cake is my favourite food of all time. When the two meet, I’m in heaven. As a fat person, however, I’ve had my share of anxieties about eating in public. It’s hard to enjoy your food when you can feel the scrutiny every time you take a bite.

It’s taken me a great deal of time, above anything else, to feel comfortable with and actually enjoy eating in public. Apart from that, here’s what also helped: having supportive friends with whom I could go out for a meal without being judged for my food choices. This is so very important. For women, especially, diet talk at the table is pretty much inescapable. But don’t give in to the pressure to participate! Let your friends and family know why you aren’t comfortable going out to dinner with them. And if you don’t have anyone you’re comfortable eating with, go out for a meal on your own. This might sound terrifying thanks to all the lonely fatty tropes but it really is surprisingly liberating.

Several years ago when I was at University in the UK I got into the habit of taking myself out to dinner maybe once a month. Being my hermity self, I didn’t really know anyone there, so I’d just go out on my own. Browse the bookstores, have a walk around town, get myself a bite to eat. And those are some of my fondest memories from that time - spending a peaceful few hours by myself in the company of good food and a good book.

If you’re fat, there’s a certain species of person that’ll always judge you no matter whether you’re eating salad or cake. They judge us for daring to exist in their field of vision - there’s no winning with this lot. Rather, the only way to win is by ignoring their garbage opinions and living your best life anyway. Revenge is a life well-lived, so eat the salad and the cake with joy!

All photos by Taha Zaidi. 


This is a story BASED ON the Lost Lance AU which BELONGS TO @kaxpha
which is AMAZING and everyone should check it out. This particular one-shot which is longer than I thought it’d be is based on this post and this animatic.

This is one of my favorite klance AUs ever, because you can just tell the sheer amount of thought and effort that went into it. I hope I was able to do it justice.

aNYWAY here it is. Sorry, I’m posting this later than I originally planned.

Lance’s leg was bent at an awkward angle, and every time he got the nerve to look at it just made him feel worse than before. 

Hunk had suffered a few bruised ribs at the very least, and it was likely Pidge received a minor concussion. One of Shiro’s legs had been grazed by a laser, and Keith seemed to be the only one of the five of them who could still stand on two feet.

But Lance couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt happier. Because they’d finally done it.

They’d taken down Prince Lotor, heir to the all-powerful Galra empire. He kneeled on the ground, hands clutching his stomach. Lance couldn’t help but feel a bit smug at that— he was the one to land a shot there.

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Machetes and Near Death Experiences (A Steve Harrington x Reader imagine)

Words: 5286

Summary: Being a babysitter for the Party requires a full set of abilities. Battling inter-dimensional monsters, being a machete swinging pro and managing a bunch of dorks with a penchant for attracting danger being just a few. Add Steve Harrington to the mix and things get a lot more interesting.

Warnings: swearing, violence, Dustin being a sassy cutie

Disclaimer: I don’t own Stranger Things or any of its characters. This is merely me turning my wishful thinking into reader insert imagines. GIF credits to the owner.

Originally posted by glowgurl


No answer.

“Harrington, what do you think you’re doing?”

Still no reply.

“Hey this ain’t funny, dammit!”

You weaved a frustrated hand through your hair as you watched the former King of Hawkins High leave the safe haven of the boarded bus in a bid to ‘expand the menu’ as Dustin put it. “Stay here and whatever you do, don’t open the door unless I tell you to.” You ordered the kids in a no nonsense manner and they merely nodded. They knew you enough from previous babysitting sessions to not mess with your instructions.

Gripping your machete tightly, you followed the low growling that was slowly filling the night air. “Y/N what are you doing here? It’s not safe…” “Exactly asshole, you need someone to watch your back here. I won’t let you turn this into a suicide mission”, you answered as a demo-dog entered your field of vision. Steve took its jump head-on, the baseball bat landing with a sickening crunch. “That was easier than I had…” another snarl interrupted his sentence as more beasts appeared out of the fog. “3’O clock! 3’O clock!” Lucas shouted and all Steve could do was utter a low “fuck”, as another beast jumped on you both. Snarling with razor sharp teeth, its face opened up in a macabre parody of a flower. Pushing Steve out of the way you swung the machete in an upward motion, slicing half of the petalled horror clean off.

You had known this Upside Down shit was no laughing matter when you encountered it last year while babysitting the boys. Keeping El a secret had been a bitch but you had managed, somehow. So the Party knew they could trust to be handy when things started getting strange again. You were no telekinetic Mage like El but you could slash your way through with a machete alright. It was no surprise really, when Dustin showed up at your house with Harrington no less (that pairing had been odd but who were you to judge), asking for your help regarding certain ‘pet’ problems. Turns out, pesky pets were actually demogorgon hounds masquerading as slugs. Code red could have justified one demo-dog, what you weren’t prepared for were a dozen more menaces appearing out of nowhere. “I thought you said there was only one!” you screamed as Steve rolled off the hood of a rusting car, kicking off another demo-dog. Too many. There were too many to hold off.

“Steve! Y/N! Abort! Abort! Abort!” Dustin shouted and you guys didn’t need more incentive to abandon a plan which had been foolhardy from the very beginning. The door was thrown open on your shouts and quickly slammed shut just as one of them lunged at the bus, crashing on the door and sliding down. A thrashing limb tried to get in and you heaved the machete, putting your strength behind the swing as you repeatedly clobbered it until it slinked right out. Steve readied his nail ridden bat and you huddled the kids behind you, switching the machete to your other hand. “You think they can bust through the door?” a loud thud echoed off the roof, answering your question. “Shit!” This was followed by a scream from Max the one closest to the ladder, when a demo-dog reared its ugly head through the roof. Steve pushed her towards you and landed a solid hit with the bat. But more kept coming, making him retreat towards you. He clutched your hand blindly, tightening his grip once he found it as if saying a silent goodbye and you started fearing the worst. You hoped you could at least shield the kids before they took you down, when the monsters suddenly withdrew. All of them.

With Harrington in the lead, you gingerly opened the door and stepped out to investigate. The coast seemed clear for the time being. “What happened? Lucas asked. “Steve scared’em off? Dustin sounded hopeful. “No. No way”, he replied, “They are going somewhere.” Steve pointedly stared in the distance before shaking his head and looking at you, checking for any signs of injuries. “You okay?” you gave a small nod. “You?” “Peachy”, he answered. Sighing in relief, you took a step towards him. His expression softened on seeing your approach and he was about to say something when you interrupted it by hitting him on the arm. “OW! What the…” Another hit, this time harder. “THAT HURTS!” “It was MEANT TO!” you screamed, huffing loudly at his stupidity.

Sighing, you said in a deathly calm voice, “You dare try another heroic stunt like that again Harrington and I won’t just use my fists next time”, you brandished the machete in his face. Steve put up his hands in surrender, nodding in awe. “She’s so cool!” Dustin exclaimed, earning a weird look from Lucas and Max. “Okay. What do we do next?” Lucas asked, finally letting go of Max’s hand. “We need to find out where they went. If they were called back, maybe we can find the source of it and come up with a plan on how to deal with them”, you replied, wiping the machete with your hand, trying to get the blood off. Steve stared at you for a bit longer than necessary, absentmindedly answering, “Yeah, yeah you’re right.”

You trudged up ahead with Max and Lucas as Steve and Dustin brought up the rear. Following the sounds that echoed off in the distance was your best bet. More like, your only lead. “Dude, did you see how she swung that machete at the demo-dog? That was pure art in motion!” Unknown to you Dustin raved on, repeating the same movements, swinging with an imaginary weapon albeit much more clumsily, stumbling in the process. “Watch your steps, Henderson.” Steve warned. But he couldn’t have agreed more as his gaze unwittingly watched your shadowy figure walk with an arm slung over Max and Lucas’ shoulders, the machete tucked at your waist, its blade glinting under your plaid shirt.

He had been expecting that darn monster to be sweepingly fast but he hadn’t been prepared to face a dozen salivating horrors. He would never admit it out loud but never had a woman looked more attractive than you swinging your machete to slice off inter-dimensional creatures. Dustin noticed his gaze on you and chuckled, “You getting sappy, Steve?” Snapping out of his daze, Steve replied, “Shut your trap, dipshit.”

He hadn’t expected to be attracted to someone so soon after what happened with Nancy. Let alone start falling so fast and so hard. It made him wonder whether what he had felt for her was love to begin with. It had been all fuzzy butterflies and tumultuous emotions with Nancy, more feelings than actual understanding. Whereas with you, he got a sense that everything was much more real, as if he could never be more grounded and aware than when he was with you. He had been swept away by Nancy’s perfection, failing to see the cracks that had developed in that facade over time. On the other hand, he was awed by your ability to transform imperfections. You owned them as if they were worthy laurels to be worn with a head held high.

But all this over thinking was in vain. There was nothing between you and him, he mused, and it never would be. Even though a part of him hoped otherwise. After all, you were Y/N L/N, a machete swinging, protective badass in plaid. You didn’t do sappy nonsense like romance. Right?

Steve couldn’t have been more wrong. You crouched in a corner of the Byers’ living room wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into. Bob Newby’s death had come as a shock to all of you. You had interacted with him twice or thrice while babysitting Will and he was one of the nicest people you knew. Slightly weird but nice. You couldn’t come to terms with how someone so good could be with you one moment and gone the next. Your gaze slid over to Steve Harrington as he sat with the boys, a sombre silence blanketing the room. With his perfect hair, kind eyes and warm smiles that brightened even your sulky mood, that beautiful bastard had managed to worm his way into your heart. God! You had hated the way your stomach became all tingly when he had clutched your hand and hovered protectively in front of you, braving the onslaught of a dozen demo-dogs. Brave and stupid nonetheless, but it was the thought that counts, right?

You watched as Max sat next to you onto the floor. “Hey” you murmured. She had been taking all this surprisingly well considering she didn’t have as much time to adjust as you had. “Hey. You think this will work?” she gestured vaguely at the scattered papers on the table, ‘close gate’ scrawled across one of them. You merely shrugged, “It’s as good a plan as any. If there’s anyone who could beat that Mind Flayer, it would be El.” An awkward silence grew at the mention of Eleven. Not wanting it to continue, you asked, “You okay?” she muttered something under her breath. “What?” “I said, Eleven probably hates me.” You smiled at that and shook your head, “Nah, I doubt it.”

She furrowed her brows, “How can you be so sure?” “Well, for one, I literally had to keep these idiots out of danger last year”, you gestured to where Mike, Lucas and Dustin were sitting. “Also, think about it. She was the only girl among them and then she had to leave these dorks for the longest time, only to find you amongst them. Maybe all she’s feeling is insecure, worried that you will replace her.” “But I’m not even part of the party. Mike specifically said so”, she mumbled the last part. “Oh don’t take him to heart. He’s just been miserable without El, missing her for so long. He’s been in a crappy mood with every one of us.” You gave her hand a small squeeze, “They’ll be fine, trust me. Just give them time.” Max pondered over your words before giving you a toothy grin. “Thanks Y/N! Dustin was right, you are pretty cool.”

“Don’t you mean pretty and cool?” you looked up to see Steve hunching over you both, obviously having heard your conversation. “Was that a lame attempt at flirting, Harrington?” you smirked, though you had to admit you were pleased on the inside. “Really? Is that the best you can do, man? I thought you could do better than this!” Dustin complained from his place on the couch. Pink dusted Steve’s cheeks as he placed the dish cloth he had been holding on his shoulder. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Don’t sass me you little shits. Let’s clean up this mess. Better than sitting in one place and just waiting for them to come back.”

Everyone got up one by one, ready to clear up. Steve offered you a hand as you were about to get up and when you took it, a small smile bloomed on his face. “You are good with this,” he said, pulling you to your feet. “What do you mean?” his touch lingered on your hand as if not wanting to let go. Or was it just something you had imagined? “With Max. With the kids. You’re good with handling them, considering all this.” You found a smile tugging at your lips. Steve intertwined his fingers with yours and you found that you didn’t mind it at all. His smooth fingers filled the gaps between your calloused ones perfectly. “Yeah? You aren’t half bad, Harrington.” “Half bad?” he sounded affronted. “I’m a pretty damn good babysitter!!” Your laughter rang out through the room at that and unlike other girls (he had to admit you were unlike any other girl he had ever met), who giggled or gave high pitched squeals, this was a throaty laugh, rich in timbre and echoing from the heart. Steve found himself mesmerized by the sound. He wanted to hear more of it and above all, he wanted to be the reason for causing it.

“Okay, if you two love birds are done canoodling and giggling, can we do some actual work here? Steve, need your help with somethin’.” Steve reluctantly let go of your hand, cursing under his breath about burying Dustin with some unwanted demo-dog bodies.

You proceeded to clean up the shattered glass along with Max, noticing for the first time how restlessly Mike had been pacing the whole time. “Mike, would you just stop already?” Lucas tried to reason. “You weren’t there, okay Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs!” Mike argued. “Demo-dogs!” Dustin corrected from the kitchen. “The chief said he’ll take care of it!” Lucas bit back, exasperated at Mike’s behaviour. Steve tried to simmer down the argument in his own misguided way, using ball game jargon. Mike was visibly irritated and voiced it out aloud, “Okay. First of all, this isn’t one of your stupid sports games and secondly, we aren’t even in the game. We are on the bench!” Steve sputtered out, “So- so my point…is…” you held your head in your hands, this was getting ridiculous. “Right, yeah, we are on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.” He again placed the dish cloth on his shoulder.

“That’s not entirely true”, you looked at Dustin, intrigued as he spoke about how the demo-dogs had a hive mind, basically connected to the Mind Flayer and if they were called back, the lab would be obstruction free for Eleven to close the gate. “Yeah, and then we all die!” Steve exclaimed. “Well, that’s one way of looking at it.” Despite yourself you chuckled, earning a grin from Dustin and a glare from Steve. ‘Sorry’ you mouthed at him. Mike started off about distracting the dogs by setting the hub of the tunnel on fire and the rest of them were pumped about the idea, completely ignoring you and Steve. “Hey.” They ignore him again. “Hey! Hey!” This had gone on long enough. You gave out a shrill, piercing whistle calling their attention to you. Silence fell in the room and all pair of eyes were trained on you, “I believe Harrington wants to say something.”

“Thank you Y/N for that kindly interruption. This”, he pointed at them, “is not happening.” “But…” “No buts. We promised that we’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what we plan on doing. We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand? This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Steve paused. “I said does everybody understand? I need a yes.” “We should ask Y/N for her take on this. She can’t be agreeing with him” Dustin proposed, pointing at Steve as if he hadn’t said a single word. “Why are you even asking this? WE”, Steve waved a hand between you two, “are together on this!” “Oh shut it Harrington, we are asking for her opinion not your relationship status.” Steve sputtered incoherently at that. “Yeah, Y/N gets a say. She’s senior sitter, her vote carries more power than your’s.” Mike spoke up.

You had been listening to this exchange with mounting annoyance. “Hey shitheads, stop talking about me as if I’m not even here. And that includes you as well Harrington!” you pointed at him with a ticked off expression on your face. You continued, “They aren’t completely wrong…” “Please don’t be actually considering this…” Steve begged. “All I’m saying…” the sounds of an engine revving loudly interrupted you. Max scrambled to the window, fear evident on her face. “It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.” She looked at you and Steve, just as you both recognised the person to whom the car belonged to. Steve exclaimed, “You are Billy Hargrove’s sister?!” she nodded. You frowned as you motioned to follow him outside. “Y/N stay here.” “If you think I’ll let you go suicide squad again…” “They’ll need someone tough if things go wrong”, he jerked his heads towards the kids.

That was your first mistake. Letting him go out there alone to face that savage Neanderthal named Billy fucking Hargrove. You just wished that King Steve wouldn’t be dethroned by the new Keg King in a fist fight as well. You noticed too late that the kids were crowding in the window when they were supposed to hide. Suddenly they ducked. “Did he see us?” Dustin asked. You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. This was turning into one hell of a night. You shuffled them into the kitchen and prepared yourself for what was about to come. The door was kicked open with force, as Billy strutted into the room. “Well, well, well. Y/N L/N and Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise.” He looked at you and then at Lucas behind you with a manic glint in his eyes.

“Hargrove, you need to leave this house. Now.” He merely laughed. “Step aside L/N this doesn’t concern you.” He merely laughed. “Step aside L/N this doesn’t concern you.” “Like hell it doesn’t. You stay away from my kids, you understand?” You kept a hand on your machete, prepared for the worst case scenario. He snorted, “Did you and Harrington decide to take the next step and start adopting kids? If so, leave that bitch alone. ‘Cause I ain’t leaving this house without my sister.” “And I ain’t leaving Max with an asshole of a brother.” That was your second mistake of the night. Your sass was going to get you killed one day. Well, who cares, Hargrove had it coming anyway. He laughed out loud as if you had cracked a really funny joke but the mirth didn’t reach his crazed eyes. With a shout he rushed towards you. You whipped out the machete and hit his head with its handle in a bid to throw him off course. The leather grip and your force dealt a sizeable welt to the side of his head. He grunted with the blow but took you down nonetheless. The machete slid out of your grip and fell too far from your reach. Well, shit.

The kids were shouting out loudly, telling him to leave you alone but all you could stare at were the eyes of Billy Hargrove as he grabbed your head and struck it against the floor. The pain thundered through your skull, dark spots danced across your vision and all sound turned into white noise. He didn’t give you a moment’s respite, grabbing you by the throat. You were hoisted momentarily in the air before being pushed against the wall. A groan escaped your lips when he choked you, “You should learn to keep that smart mouth of yours closed Y/N, never know who could rip it off.” You crumpled to the floor as he let you go and approached Lucas, slamming him into a wall cabinet with threats of dire consequences on his lips. Had it been somebody else they would have shit their pants. Not Lucas Sinclair. On being threatened, he kneed Billy in the groin. Despite being dazed and disoriented, you were a proud parent.

“You are so dead”, the mullet wearing bastard threatened him again before Steve interrupted his tirade, “No. You are.” You were thankful for that as he seemed to have an upper hand in beating Billy out of the house. That was until you saw Steve being clobbered on the head with a plate and subsequently pulverised to a bloody pulp. The white noise was slowly turning into a dull buzz as you stumbled to your feet and approached the pair. “Hey asshole, stay away from my guy!” Billy looked up in time to see your fist rushing to meet his face. Muttering profanities he grabbed you again and returned the favour. You could have dodged that punch, but all you did was smile at the pain, feeling the bruise already blossoming on your jaw. Confused at your reactions, he cursed as the needle pricked his neck. Max had needed a distraction to plunge the syringe, so you gave her one. You left her to threaten Billy with dire consequences, with liberal use of Steve’s bat of course. You crawled towards him, watching King Steve in all his glory, knocked out cold with a bloodied face. God, he had had the daylights punched out of him. Your head pounded and you had a feeling that you were no better than him, though minus a split lip and a slowly blackening eye.

You watched Billy promise Max to leave all of you alone and then slump into unconsciousness. They all looked at you as you chuckled, wondering if you had become deranged from his hits. “Did he knock something loose in your head?” Mike wondered out loud. “Nah, I was just thinking that I trained you kids well.” They all grinned at that. You managed to scrap together a few colourful band aids and carefully placed them on Steve’s injuries. That would have to do for the mean time.

Once you reached Billy’s car, you and Dustin somehow squashed Steve on the backseat. You were overcome by a wave of nausea and swayed on your feet. Most likely a concussion, you mused. “Max can you drive? If I attempt to do that in my state, I’ll probably ram it into a ditch.” That was how you found yourselves racing towards the hole Hopper had dug, Max swerving and accelerating at dangerous speeds.

Just as you started thinking that maybe this had been a bad idea, Steve groggily woke up. “Y/N?” he asked Dustin. “I’m here Steve.” He looked at you, before nuzzling into your side. “You look nice.” He felt your chuckle vibrate through his side, if he moved any further, he would be practically in your lap. “Speak for yourself Harrington.” A moment of silence passed before he asked, “Wait did you just call me Steve?” You turned your head to look out of the window, your cheeks flaming red. “What? No! I think you’re still too dazed to think straight.” “Wait, if you are sitting here. Then who’s driving?” His gaze shifted to Max and a chant of ‘Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!’ started. Frankly you don’t really know how you reached where you needed to be. Suffice to say, it involved a lot of shouting, a lot of cursing, one hyperventilating Steve and a smashed mail box. By the end of the ride, you and Steve were clutching each other for dear life.

Originally posted by haryedwardstyles

“I told you, zoomer.” Max said proudly, once you rushed out of the car never more grateful for solid ground. “Guys? Hey guys?” Steve shouted at the kids as they started taking out bandanas and goggles from the boot, ‘protection’ you had insisted would be required if you were to go through with this. You mumbled your thanks to Dustin as he handed you your pair. “Y/N you should be siding with me on this! We aren’t going down that hole! This ends now!” You stared at the ground for a moment before saying, “They are right, you know. I can’t sit there waiting for others to do things knowing I could have done something to help El and Hopper out. And anything goes, even crawling into a slime infested Upside Down tunnel trying to lure flesh eating demo-dogs if that means we can shut this shit down for good.” “You really have a way with words, you know?” Dustin said while giving Steve his protective gear, “Steve, you are upset. I get it. But the bottom line is a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance. Now I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.” He handed him his bat and your machete was thrust into your hands. Steve sighed and took his trusty bat after you gave him a nod.

Getting down the hole hadn’t been difficult. Once you landed, the sight that greeted you was hardly scenic. The floating dust particles, the slime lathered pulsing tunnel and the chilly air gave you eerie vibes. It seemed like a piece of hell had been recreated in Hawkins. “Holy shit”, Steve exclaimed. “Pretty cosy, right?” you replied sardonically as the party looked around. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.” Mike shined the torch on the crude map of the tunnels you had drawn. You were glad that Steve stopped Mike and took the lead; these little shits could go running blindly into danger and not even know it. Bringing up the back, you swung the machete in your hand hoping that the demo-dogs would at least let you reach the hub and not make any surprise appearances. Getting there had been fairly incident free if you overlooked a minor hiccup (Dustin being spewed with otherworldly vomit could be considered that, in the grand scheme of things) and before you knew it, you were dousing the hub with all the inflammable liquid you could get your hands on from the Byers’ household.

With everyone calling out that they were ready, Steve took out the lighter and flung it into the darkness whilst muttering, “I’m in such deep shit.” For the rest of your life, you would remember how the small flame sailed through the air, almost in slow motion, before landing on the floor and lighting up the room like a bonfire taking to dry wood. Nothing could be more horrifyingly beautiful than an inferno of flames engulfing the slimy tendrils that started screeching on being burnt. “Go, go, go, go, go”, Steve yelled snapping you out of your daze when he pulled you together with him. You quickly ran ahead of the boys, taking the machete out of its place at your waist. Was this how Vikings felt when they launched surprise attacks on enemies? Well, they probably didn’t have someone like Steve Harrington shouting, ‘oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!’ throughout the escape but you wouldn’t have liked it any other way. The euphoria of having burnt an evil shadow monster’s lair pumped through your veins, the frigid air rushing past your party as you ran through the winding tunnels.

That was until Mike’s cries for help brought you to a screeching halt. You changed directions, running back to see him being dragged by the vines. Lucas, Dustin and Max reached him first and tried to pull him out of the vine’s clutches. “Stand back!” Steve swung the bat at it once, twice. You delivered the third blow, cutting it clean from his foot as the shrieking critter gave a few dying wails before flopping lifelessly. You were hoping that that would be the end of your problems. You should have known better. A hungry growl diverted your attention from checking if Mike was hurt and the hair on the back of your arms stood up. A demo-dog stood in front of you in all its slimy, many toothed glory. You made a move to go full Viking on it just as Dustin called out, “Dart?” This was the thing that had been mistaken for a pet?? You lowered the machete as Steve tried to pull him back but he just shushed you guys. You tried to call him back, “Trust me on this!” he replied and you lapsed into silence.

Your eyebrows rose up in disbelief as Dustin talked with the creature as if it were a beloved dog returning to its master. You were fairly sure your brows had disappeared into your hairline by the time he had managed to calm the demo-dog with nougat bars and waved you guys to move forward. This night was breaking all previous charts of trippy events but stranger things had been known to happen.

You swiftly moved on ahead but a loud rumble shook the ground, tripping you and the others. “What was that?” Max asked. “They are coming. Run. RUN!” Mike shouted from the rear. You all ran like your lives depended upon it as growls echoed deeply from the tunnels, sounding closer and closer as you approached the rope. “There! Let’s go. Go. Go. Go.” Steve steadied the dangling rope while you hoisted Max up and urged them to climb up ahead one by one. You were about to follow Dustin as he was helped up by Lucas and Mike when the growls echoed too closely for your comfort. “Shit” you muttered. Hordes of demo-dogs rounded the corner and filled the tunnel, piling over one another in their haste to reach you. It was too late, you could never make it out in time. This was the end, this was how you would die. At least you both had got all the kids out safely.

Your fist gripped the machete tightly, readying it for one last swing. Steve looked at you and gave a solemn nod. You held his gaze and a silent understanding passed between you. Whatever may happen, you would go down fighting. You saw the distance between them and you diminishing at an alarming rate. Running at you at full throttle, closing in on you, faster and faster….

And just continuing on as if you were invisible. Completely ignoring your presence, they roughly brushed past you, almost knocking you off balance. Did they not see that there were two prime steaks standing smack dab in their midst? Steve pulled you in his arms as the tide of demo-dogs made its way around you, disappearing around the corner heading god knew where. As you clutched onto him for dear life, your mind finally registered that you had nearly died just then. You stared at him, not comprehending that the ordeal was at long last over. He gazed right back, holding on equally tightly. As if letting you go would make the monsters come back. As if being nearly run down by literal hell hounds had finally opened his eyes and he was seeing you for the first time.

You gave a hysterical laugh and flung yourself into Steve as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, clutching your waist even more tightly than before. You both stayed like that for what seemed like eternity before being interrupted by Dustin. “Guys? Guys, I know it’s literally the end of the world but can you have your lovey-dovey moment after you are safe and out of that hell hole?” You sprang apart at that and let go of each other. Blushing the shade of ripe tomatoes, you climbed up the rope. Once you reached above ground, you slipped your hand into Steve’s, took off the bandana & goggles and gave him a dazzling smile. The headlights burnt bright like two miniature suns, signalling that El had managed to close the gate. He looked at you then, with the fading light reflecting off your sweat and grime stained face. You looked as bone tired as he felt, hair greasy and all over the place. There was a purplish bruise on your jaw that was darkening with every passing minute (Hargrove was going to be so dead once he was done with him). Nobody had looked more beautiful in his eyes.

In that moment, Steve Harrington thought that if the end of the world meant you would look at him with such adoring eyes, may be facing ravaging demo-dogs and enduring near death experiences wasn’t that bad of a deal after all.  

A/N: My first Steve Harrington imagine! Not exactly sure how this turned out. Please excuse any typos that may have crept in. I love Mom Steve, if you didn’t notice. I react to feedback the way Dart acts with Nougat. ❤
~mystical reading nerd.

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