#Im not exactly a visionarie
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I had a really cool idea but I can't find a rock band cover of the can-can so...
#bek rambles about crap#I mean#Im not exactly a visionarie#SOMEONE has to have done this???#its an old enough classical music peice thats been on the public domain longer than Ive been alive#and bands love to do novel stuff for a bit#so why cant I find one??#I just need a dirty garige band style cover of a populer peice of old music#it should have taken me like#5 mins to find#whats the deal???
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I said I was going to make visionary incense with the trees and plants that grow in this garden. i am.
Madness going fucking ham earlier... was a necessary fucking moment (insert what i said last night about deities' actions being symbols. lev absolutely Forgot to be more careful because Big Lev made him forget that on purpose). a moment of realisation of how strong the Tree of Madness is and. jesus christ. I am not. stripping its bark and turning that into incense alone
its definitely going to be....... this garden as a whole actually is going to be mixed and matched to form various alchemical shit. the Heart Tree (tree of me in totality) is definitely needed in the visionary/divine madness incense, but that. increases the effects of the Tree of Madness, so I have to be fucking careful. The Tree of Sleep, whenever it arises, is definitely going to be a component and I think its soothing properties will counteract Madness alllllllmost. more so Madness is the top of a triangle metaphorically, Sleep is one other corner, we need another contender in the third corner to properly balance out and neutralise Madness' complex ferocity.
anyway. remember what i said about big spirits acting symbolically? dont look too much into that
#oh this life i need to work out my energies better and have a more intelligent balanced approach to myself? weird that im suddenly#unknowing and experimenting with a forest of trees of my own energy making alchemical concoctions out of them#with the wide open eyes of a reincarnated child#shut up Grey#~abyssal murmurs#~astral creation#OH THANKS I DID FORGET THAT TAG. ok. youre forgiven#creation: the forest //#OOO. kindness. as much as thats not an aspect i associate with myself at the moment. and as much as i doubt thats an aspect of mine#i actually know exactly what thats fucking....... about. yeah. its. i dont like the word kindness. motherly gentleness. Bhairavi as the#Mother. the calm waters. the..... the Sky Father that pierces himself with swords and lays across mountains to bring rain#the Fate Weaver who soothes the crying children into happiness#alright. yeah. that definitely with sleep would be an interesting concoction. possible start of a first draft of the visionary incense
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Woaaah I'm so glad the you write for mashe. I don't know if ur open for request if not please ignore this
How about Rayne having to bring his twin sons to work cuz his wife is out for business then for some reason Mash and his gang came to the Divine visionary and typical mashle shenanigans ensues.
The catch tho is that the one twin son is like a carbon copy of Rayne and the other is the same but hair color is like in opposite sides.
If ur uncomfortable with this please ignore this. But I hope you have a great day!!!
★ little raynes and mashle shenanigans
notes. little raynes omg (im his wife like literally) also this is the last request before i start on a new project 🫡
one rayne, two raynes, three raynes. and another rayne if you're counting finn to look similar to rayne. one twin looks exactly like his father, with half yellow and half black hair split in the center. his lines the same as rayne, both streaks that runs down his eyes. demeanor like his father's— serious, calm, and collected.
what about the other twin? he is exactly the same like his father. well, not really. he has the colour of your hair and a different type of line design. this twin is on the weaker side, seeing how he only has a single line that runs across his nose. just like you, with a single line. being the weaker twin, he was softer than his elder twin brother, often helping around town or anyone at all.
today rayne is all alone with his sons, as his wife had to visit her family's business to help around, so she left the boys with him. rayne is a busy divine visionary, he couldn't just leave his sons alone. so he brought them to his office. what a surprise, his brother's friends are all there. and rayne's eyes twitched at the chaos that is about to happen.
finn is the first one who greets them, for he is their uncle. being the loving and nice uncle finn is, he often spoils them and doesn't know when to stop. like always, he gave both the twins a candy each, ruffling with their head.
mash who has never seen rayne's children before, is fascinated by the fact that there are two other little raynes. one the exact copy, the other immediately reminding him of you. he doesn't know whether to continue feeling fascinated or to feel fear since there is a mini rayne in town now. what if mini rayne is as powerful as his dad?
lance who had no reaction to them at all. he already saw them, already met them, and already knew them long ago. in fact, the older twin quite likes lance. he sees lance as an icy and cool idol to admire.
dot who keeps the kids if they want tips on how to get a girlfriend and only the younger ames listens, for the elder one immediately finds dot annoying. the younger one is just curious on what the meaning of 'girlfriend' is, before lemon pushes dot away and apologised to the younger ames.
lemon who tells the twins not to mind dot, for he still hasn't find a girlfriend after years of being single. she tells them not to worry as they are still young and instead, gives them the cream puffs she has made for mash which ended up being way too much.
and rayne, who sighs and shakes his head at the growing trouble that he could smell from afar. seeing the piles of paper stacked on his table, he has no choice but to ask the help of the mashle friends to look after his kids. he could trust finn, but he doesn't trust the others. so he purposely gave the task to finn, but everyone else took it as an invitation to babysit two little raynes.
rayne will make sure to complain to his wife when she comes back home.
© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.
#﹙🗝️ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝐰𝐫𝖎𝐭𝖎𝐧𝐠﹚#rayne ames#rayne x reader#rayne x y/n#rayne x you#mashle#mashle x reader#mashle imagines#mashle headcanons#mashle fluff
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not the og anon but… french exit… jeez i used to think it was the best title ever not even kidding and was kinda disappointed (? Not even the word for it because like you are the visionary and i failed to understand the vision then) when you changed it to eat them alive… i now realize how the title “french exit” probably described the landoscar aspect of the fic while “eat them alive” best encapsulates maxcar and oscar’s total transformation and is the thesis of the fic. now i think, how aptly it wasnt called french exit bc eta shows rhat oscar is more than mclaren or his relationship with lando or how he is perceived in that context. anyways this is crazy i think about eta too much sometimes and im always just like. wow. if youre up for it, would love to hear your title-naming process for fics! “principle of least interest” and “dutch angle” are SO interesting too
you’re exactly right! i had been titling it french exit for like, about half of the fic, and then i think around the time i had started fully developing what happens in 2026 i realized that the fic is just as much about arriving as it is about leaving
honestly the title can come at any point in the fic is the thing - sometimes i have it before i even start writing it and other times i dont have the title until the fic is done etc.
as for my title deciding process for fics... i try to have short-ish titles (carcar soulmate fic + george/toto fic are anomalies here haha) generally, and ones that like… sound nice to me.
principle of least interest and dutch angle were fun ones because i think that i got the titles right as i was starting the fics/even before.
principle of least interest was actually supposed to be the Third Fic installment of the anatomy of a joke series. but i didnt actually end up writing the series lmao and i was like. well i still really want to use this title because it's neat. so luckily it fit the oscarmark fic :)
and dutch angle! i'd been wanting to write a norstappen fic for a while and like. i just was kind of obsessed with the idea of writing something a bit uneasy/disorienting but relatively short, where it's like the narrator is actively withholding things from the reader (in this case it's the #feelings)
ty for the ask :)
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hey! so school killed my activity in here, but now because winter break started i’m super exited to catch up on your writing! :)
i loved „Just because” fic!! you absolutely proved that i can trust you with my ideas, because you wrote it exactly the way how i wanted it to look like!! Thank you so much 🙏🏻
im glad i was able to capture you request well :3 im a visionary lol
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i love frank iero destiel shipper this is so fucking funny youre a visionary truly
idk whats so funny im deadly serious?? this is exactly the kind of attitude that lead frank to cover one of his destiel tattoos and stop speaking about it publicly.
say no to cock shame!!
#unreality#and thank you anon i love being silly <333 ALSKDJF#ask#anonymous#destiel shipper frank iero
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tagged by @bisexualgoof 💕
Last Song: "MAREMOTO" by lablackie and villano antillano (my playlist is v random so this one's a party song lol)
Favorite Color: black (and also green i cant choose)
Last Book: ...ok so...it was the english translation of "reverse 4 you" lmaoo its that serious
Last Movie: rewatched "the half of it" for the millionth time (alice wu is a visionary)
Last Show: back in my rewatching "person of interest" era currently 😩 im on s2 rn
Sweet/Spicy/Savory: spicy all the way !!
Relationship Status: single (per usual)
Last Thing I Googled: ...el pollo loco 😭
Current Obsession: ngl thai gls have me in a chokehold lol, growing up on telenovelas they're exactly up my alley (overdramatic and with crazy plots and acting plus gay ? like sign me uppp). i havent even finished pluto the series yet bc i dont want it to be over :((
Looking Forward To: all the experiences to come in 2025 <3 and finding joy in the small things!!
open tag for all my mutuals 🖤 love yalllll
#thank youu for the tag i always love these tag games!!#and not to be sappy on main but i really hope everyone is safe and happy and healthy#and having a great start of the year#it's crazy rn in my part of the world and im just wishing the best for everyone <3#bs.txt#tag game
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I think your take is an interesting one! But I can personally see another interpretation for Dutch's written speech as well, which to me might also be due to his obsessive tendencies, maybe even anxiety. To a certain degree, i can relate to dutch writing his thoughts down before his actual speech. Its like when i try to do a presentation in a class and i mentally prepare myself before the big day with brainstorming what i want to say. And without reading back what i wrote, its just hard to say everything that ive written down the day before. So maybe dutch isnt actually trying to simplify his speeches for the gang but just sorts of improvise as he does his speech because hes got too many ideas to say but cant say as nicely as he wrote it down? Like i do this myself all the time. And i feel like the fact that we can find these written thoughts for his speeches also could simply accentuate his obsessive tendencies, like, Dutch wants to be that visionary, he wants to be that leader who opposes against the elite, he wants to be that robin hood of the west, so he thinks a lot about his speeches, because to him they are important, he wants his speeches to express exactly what he wants, how he feels, the vision he has and believes himself to incarnate. To an obsessive degree. Like im not sure its 100% with intended malice, i feel a lot of what dutch does mostly at the beginning of the game, is due to himself fully believing his own vision in a sense, even if it turns out to be manipulative. And i think his written speeches could reflect that.
Ofc nor saying dutch isnt manipulative in general because he is!! Though i think there's multiple ways to look at the notes!
So, I was nosing around the gang's tents and I thought that it was honestly so sweet that so many of them have photographs of themselves or of family right?
Little baby Charles with his parents, a young Susan, young Hosea and Bessie, but then I found something interesting in that pile of junk down the cliff just behind Arthur's tent-
Dutch actually writes notes for his famous camp speeches.
And if you've seen the speech that these notes are referring to, Dutch seemed to simplify it a lot when he recited it, almost dumbing it down for the gang entirely?
Writing notes for an important speech isn't the strange part, but the fact he dumbs them down and that these notes are hidden/thrown away out of sight is really strange to me. It makes me think that this is possibly a rough draft or early version of what he wanted the speech to be, sort of implying that Dutch practices and revises his speeches.
Which, if he ultimately dumbs them down for the gang, then what is the point?
The likely answer is that he holds himself to a higher standard because he feels he's above the gang members, in a way. He's the visionary, the leader, the man in charge, the one who reads philosophy books almost exclusively, to say that Dutch didn't think highly of himself would be a lie. And because the gang is 'below' him, he simplifies his speeches for them - despite majority of the gang being well educated and understanding. He doesn't think that the gang is as intellectual as him.
I made a post previously talking about Dutch and his Evelyn Miller philosophies and how he argues with gang members that don't agree or understand. It's especially interesting how Lenny, also an avid reader, disagrees so strongly with Miller's writings when that's what most of Dutch's philosophies are based on.
It solidifies that Dutch was manipulative from the beginning, and probably long before too.
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Mastering Social Media Marketing For Explosive Growth In Your Service Business! EXACTLY HOW I DO IT
In this episode, Keith shares his journey of starting a landscaping business and growing it by leveraging digital marketing strategies, social media, and video marketing. He delves into the value of using virtual assistants to handle aspects of the business such as bookkeeping, marketing, and content creation. Keith underscores the importance of hiring fast and firing fast, maintaining clear communication, and providing fair remuneration to virtual assistants. His business strategy also includes having an integrator role to translate vision into reality, and using online platforms like Upwork to source virtual assistants.
"Success is not a solo journey; it's the symphony of delegation, automation, and visionary leadership that orchestrates dreams into reality."
- Keith Kalfas
Topics Covered:
Introduction and Personal Journey
The Power of Social Media Marketing
Leveraging Online Platforms for Business Growth
The Importance of Consistent Content Creation
The Challenges of Running a Business
The Solution: Hiring Virtual Assistants
Building a Media Business with Virtual Assistants
The Power of Delegation and Outsourcing
The Marketing Progression Pyramid
The Role of Virtual Assistants in Business Growth
The Importance of Brand Consistency
The Power of Automation in Business
Q&A Session
Key Takeaways The takeaway from this passage seems to be about the excitement and fulfillment that comes from achieving dreams and goals in business, particularly through delegation, automation, and hiring the right people. It highlights the importance of having a vision and being able to delegate tasks effectively to grow a business. The example of Marvin and his automation success illustrates how strategic delegation can lead to significant progress and freedom to pursue other goals, such as starting a podcast and traveling. It also emphasizes the value of investing in employees and virtual assistants, recognizing their contributions, and paying them well for their work. Overall, the message is about the transformative power of effective delegation and strategic planning in business growth.
Connect with Keith
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/keithkalfas/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thelandscapingemployeetrap Website: https://www.keithkalfas.com/resources Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@keith-kalfas
Resources and Websites:
🙋♂️Get My Free Landscaping Business Startup Video Series Here👇 Here https://www.keithkalfas.com/Landscaping-Series
Landscaping Course https://keith-kalfas.mykajabi.com/store/8bFERMcs
LANDSCAPING BUSINESS How to Guide: https://www.keithkalfas.com/16
Get Jobber: https://getjobber.com/im/ambassador-referral/?gspk=a2VpdGhrYWxmYXM4NTIx&gsxid=Rs6pwtznLDcs
Get Ballard: https://www.ballard-inc.com/
Easy Budgeting Blueprint: keithkalfas.com/budget
Smartphone Video Creation Guide: Keithkalfas.com/smartphone
Identifying Your Superpower: Keithkalfas.com/superpower
Check out this episode!
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Jade Harley, Aradia Megido, Davebot
Page 286-287
JADE: As a point of curiosity-
ARADIA: oh shit!!!!
ARADIA: :(
JADE: as a point of order, you never answered dave’s question.
ARADIA: which one he is very chatty
JADE: you experience time in a way that is woefully unfamiliar to me and it has... piqued my curiosity enough to learn more.
ARADIA: ?_?
DAVEBOT: shes asking how old you are
ARADIA: in this form our bodies stop aging once we reach maturity i think
ARADIA: the god tier keeps our physical form locked in a state of undying
ARADIA: even in death the bodies do not decay
ARADIA: only lay dormant
DAVEBOT: no thats boring
DAVEBOT: like how long have you been alive
JADE: yes, that one.
ARADIA: oh maybe a few hundred years or so
DAVEBOT: what
JADE: what?
ARADIA: well if i had known you were going to be so judgy about it
DAVEBOT: when did this happen
ARADIA: oh i spent some time in other doomed realities and timelines and came back before anybody could tell i was gone
DAVEBOT: oh just out for a bit of fun then
DAVEBOT: just hopped on over to a different reality
DAVEBOT: real casual like
DAVEBOT: oh hello dont mind me just popping in to see if it really is as doomed as they say it is
DAVEBOT: did not disappoint
ARADIA: yes almost exactly like that :)
DAVEBOT: who did you hang out with are they cooler than me
ARADIA: it is complicated to explain
DAVEBOT: oh ok nevermind then
DAVEBOT: all clear
DAVEBOT: a whole alternate universe ripe with the coolest motherfuckers imaginable
ARADIA: you were there too i threw your air conditioner into the sun
DAVEBOT: wow thats fucked up
DAVEBOT: thats not where that goes at all
JADE: these events are not-canonical.
ARADIA: rude
DAVEBOT: i think what the ghost possessing a corpse of my ex is trying to say
DAVEBOT: and correct me if im fucking wrong
DAVEBOT: which for the record im not
DAVEBOT: is that the trope of being hundreds of years old but looking young forever patently sucks ass
DAVEBOT: a plot device an asshole would write
ARADIA: :(
JADE: that is not what i am trying to say at all.
DAVEBOT: hmm wow yeah thatd really be a sort of pot/kettle situation i guess
DAVEBOT: i cant believe im the only woke one here
DAVEBOT: its hard being such a visionary AND such a fine metallic specimen
DAVEBOT: but im an altruist first and fucking foremost
ARADIA: so selfless
JADE: yes, the greater narrative is truly blessed by your beneficent presence.
DAVEBOT: oh so you got jokes now huh
JADE: i have always had the ‘jokes’ of which you speak, but i have heretofore exercised restraint in laying you low.
JADE: i possess knowledge of many of your iterations, as the scope of my powers allows me to exist in several narrative structures at once.
DAVEBOT: but can she see why kids love the sweet cinnamon taste of cinnamon toast crunch
JADE: i do not know, or care, what that means.
ARADIA: neither do i :)
JADE: its cultural significance to you as an earthling is wasted on the two of us entirely, as we have not conflated the misguided notion of clinging to nostalgic cereal advertisement trivia with socially relevant conversation.
JADE: one could say that your reference is lost to
ARADIA: .....
JADE: ......
ARADIA: .......
JADE: time
ARADIA: ouo
#homestuck#homestuck^2#jade harley#aradia medigo#davebot#homestuck^2 act 1#page 286#page 287#alt calliope
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Jacob’s Classic Cheese Pizza mini cheddars
Lovely! enjoyers of pizza flavoured snacks rejoice there is a new delectable on the market. Slightly cheesy, slightly tomatoey, and with a vauge smokey taste that reminds me of pepperoni, these crisps imitate some of the better pizza flavoured snacks of the past. Unfortunately, imitate is all they do. While aping the flavours of texturally and flavourally superior pizza snacks like Shapes and Combos, these crisps neglect to do anything new. Hampered by the (now quickly growing oversaturated) medium of mini cheddars it feels that there is a natural limit on what can be achieved with the next generation of Cheddars flavours. While they have tried to circumvent this with the new Nibblets and Sticks, they have written themselves into a corner trying to manage both inventiveness and consistent branding. the mini cheddars varieties are still made from the same wheat flour base baked in exactly the same way, the only difference is the shape of the protocrisps prior to cooking. When I say reaching the natural limits of the medium Im talking about the difficulty of creating a new taste experience on what is essentially 30 different flavours of the same crisp. While they are lovely, and I will continue to look forward to new releases, I feel the cheddars formula needs some experimentation to really drive home the initiative the boys at jacobs are displaying. Quite simply, the flavour creators at Jacobs are visionary. While not every flavour is incredible, some are outright awful (looking at you cheese ploughmans mini cheddars), they are CONSISTENTLY bringing out new flavours, the vast majority of which are lovely and interesting. Take the new cheese pizza flavour for example, It is nice, tasty, but nothing new. For this reason its one of the worst mini cheddars flavours after original, but still lovely from the strength of the flavour profile imagineered by the Jacobs team. My point is that with a very strong team working on flavour I would expect some diversion of resources to texture. Something has to change because at the minute the delicious flavour of the new flavours of mini cheddars (since the 2nd wave "Strathdon Blue Cheese" era) is THOROUGHLY let down by the failed or incomplete innovations in the way of crisp technology. Perhaps embrace the "mini" and simply make a bag of tiny cheddars that you can drink like the flavourful melange at the end of a package of potato crisps. I don't know, but there are clearly many avenues to be explored vis a vis size, shape, texture, cooking style, that clearly aren't and it is, in my opinion a waste of talent.
Pairs with: Overthinking
Rating: 7.5
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SOBBBBBBBBBBB + of course when you wrote this , you knew it would be the most heartwarming + disarming thing id ever read
i genuinely dont know how to put into words feels so stupid to . give a gaf this hard i really was beyond emotional reading 😭😭😭😭😭 .. is this how ppl feel when they read fanfiction wailssss i YEAH DISARMED ! enchanted by your world enchanted by your words + your insight + your thoughtfulness and ofc only a goth could have written this experience so authentically dizzying transcendance of belonging + being understood + appreciated. what am i rven saying this doesnt make sense ok my highlights!
1. being mortified that ppl are scared of me but not being able to stop cos why would i wait for them to be mean to me SO REAL SO REAL SO REAL i would obv id be head over heels for steve but hes scary as fuck hes soooo socially acceptable he . we are playing on HIS court be so fucking real
2. robin is such a shit LOL i cannot believe her. you project her character so genuine
3. me getting into steves car and abandoning my own with no second regard to it REAL . A BLESSING. THANK YOU CAR!
4. ok circling back to point one HIM being SCARED of ME .............. well yeah this is exactly how it would play out i dont doubt the script for a second but he has to stop playing. im exasperated .
5. you mentioned climbing over the console 'gracelessly' i imagined those big fucking boots bashing against his poor gorgeously maintained interior sorry gorgeous! thats the price to pay! and it seems he doesnt mind !
6. steve black lipstick residue 😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫👍👍👍👍👍👍😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫👍😵💫👍👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫👍😵💫👍😵💫👍👍😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫👍👍👍👍😵💫😵💫😵💫👍😵💫😵💫👍blacks out . arises 😵💫😵💫😵💫👍👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫👍👍😵💫👍👍😵💫😵💫😵💫👍👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫😵💫👍😵💫👍👍👍👍blacks out again.
IN CONCLUSION NEED HIM NEED THIS YOURE A VISIONARY OH MY ACTUAL GOD. WOW ! WOWW! PLEASEEEEE UMM. FEEL ENCOURAGED THAT IF U FEEL ANY DRIVE TO TO WRITE ANOTHER STORY WITH THIS STYLE IT WILL BE RECIEVED GRATEFULLY AND AND SOBBBB THANK YOU
And You're Driven Like the Snow | s.h. x mall goth!reader
Summary | Just when you thought Christmas Eve couldn't get any more stressful at Starcourt, that pretty boy from Scoops Ahoy (that you did not have a crush on) walked into your shop and threw your whole night for a loop.
Prompt | You need a last minute gift, but man that sales clerk sure is cute…
Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, mostly fluff, sorta merry little meet-cute (?), mutual pining, post-S3 au in which nothing bad happens, nervous & awkward Steve, reader's appearance not described only parts of her wardrobe are referenced
Author's Note | This was an idea I had started only a couple of days before @littlexdeaths posted the Twelve Days of Promptmas list, so when I saw a prompt that fit the vibes, I made some little adjustments to the story! This is my first go at writing Steve, so I hope I've done him justice.
Recommended Listening | very merry gothmas
WC | 12.5k
!!! MINORS DNI !!!
Still night, nothing for miles // A white curtain come down Kill the lights in the middle of the road // And take a, take a look around
The guy in that stupid little sailor suit should not have ever caught your eye, not for anything more than a simple laugh at his expense before moving on with your day. And yet - as you entered the mall before hours, running late and knowing that your manager would chew you out for it - you caught yourself doing a double-take, looking from his gorgeous head of hair down to the near dangerous length of his shorts.
It only lasted for perhaps a few seconds, but nonetheless you had to shake yourself from the moment, utter confusion written across your face. Why the hell had you looked for even just that second, eyeing some pretty boy who most certainly wasn’t your type at all?
Once you had entered Spencer’s Gifts through the staff door and gotten the expected scolding from your manager who was on an authority high, you’d all but forgotten about your strange lapse in judgment on your way here. And so your day carried on as usual, your week carried on as usual, and that stupid looking boy from the ice cream shop wasn’t even a blip in your mind.
Until a week or so later, when once again you spotted him from afar as the two of you entered Starcourt for your respective shifts. This time, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer, looking him up and down with an insatiable curiosity as he walked far enough ahead of you that he was most likely unaware of your presence at all.
You tried to convince yourself that you were staring this time simply to figure out why he caught your attention in the first place - it had to be because of how stupid that Scoops Ahoy uniform was, right? There was no way you were oddly charmed by how well he wore it, or how his hair looked incredibly soft, or how his absentminded expression had an endearing quality to it. Nope, you weren’t staring out of any sort of interest in him at all, it was simply some morbid sense of curiosity about someone so clearly unlike yourself.
It was the third time you were staring, however, that made you kick yourself, because on this occasion the Scoops Ahoy guy caught you.
You’d been walking quite a fair distance behind - hoping that you didn’t look like a total creep watching how his long strides carried him - when his keys fell from his hands. When he turned to pick them up, the two of you met eyes across the expanse of the empty mall; you hadn’t even realized that you stopped walking until that moment.
You were instantly flustered by his brown eyes and the curious furrow of his brow, trying in vain to look around yourself and act as if you totally weren’t staring at all. Of course, you knew even as you did it that the act wasn’t going to work; when you nervously met his eyes again, you thought perhaps you saw something like amusement there. So, panicked and not knowing what else to do, you glared harshly as if to dismiss your staring and briskly continued on towards the escalators without daring to slow or look back at him one last time.
Why you’d been so caught up in him at all was a mystery to you, and so from that point you made a conscious effort to ignore him in the hopes that eventually your intrigue would be forgotten. So, you briefly found some guy cute? Didn’t matter, especially considering that you had no intention of ever speaking to him anyway.
Most days, that stupid Scoops Ahoy guy never even crossed your mind, but when he did, it was nearly an annoyance. If ever you visited the food court for lunch, it was almost aggressive the way you ignored the ice cream parlor, acting as if it wasn’t even there. During some of your morning walks through Starcourt you tried to keep your head down, but more than once the two of you had accidentally fallen in-stride with one another, which would prompt you to practically stomp forward and act as if you didn’t know he was there at all.
Then there was one day when you were convinced that your coworker was conspiring against you, because Shelley all but dragged you down to Scoops Ahoy despite your protests. Evidently, her ice cream craving took precedence over your arguments against accompanying her.
You could feel the tension in your body and across your face as you awkwardly stood there beside Shelley, your eyes trained on the floor as if that would keep you from doing something foolish. If your coworker was aware of your rigid demeanor, she didn’t draw attention to it, far too focused on ordering the most annoyingly intricate sundae you’d ever seen.
As luck would have it, you weren’t invisible simply because you wouldn’t look at the Scoops Ahoy guy, because he turned his attention to you and asked, “Anything for you?”
You looked up with a mean expression, which was somewhat unintentional - your nerves always managed to make you seem bitchy rather than anxious, which was a win depending on who you asked. You could see the exact moment that he recognized you, his expression faltering for a brief moment; you weren’t sure if his surprise was good or bad.
Your eyes bounced around his face for a moment, flicking down towards his name tag just long enough to read that it said “Steve” in bubble letters; shit, having his name made this so much worse somehow. But you found your voice quickly - although it felt like a lifetime - giving him a blunt and mildly rude, “No.”
You could see a bit of tension between his brows at your response, but he was able to mask it quickly, putting on that false customer service smile while turning his attention back to Shelley. That interaction was damn near mortifying for you, and for weeks after you avoided the food court like a damn plague.
Then, of course, there was that one time you were cleaning up shelves near the front of Spencer’s, minding your business and trying to zone out everything around you, when you felt as if there were a pair of eyes on you. So, you looked around quizzically, up and down the wide aisles of Starcourt, when finally you spotted Steve rubber-necking from across the way just so he could stare at you. Beside him was his fellow Scoops Ahoy employee, and under other circumstances, their matching uniforms would have made the sight of them comical to you, but in this instance all you felt was confusion and nervousness.
Now it was your turn to pull a bewildered expression as a flustered look flashed across Steve’s face. He abruptly pulled his gaze away, pretending to look at the mannequins in the shop window next to him, though he practically tripped over himself in his panic.
Despite your utter confusion, something about it made you smile to yourself while turning back towards your work, though you just as quickly shook off the expression. You were not about to get giddy just because some guy was looking at you - for all you knew, his stare was a bad thing. Maybe he was just trying to remember your face so he knew which store to avoid, or maybe - an even worse thought - he was confusing you with someone else. Regardless, you kept your head down until you were finally done with your task, whisking deeper into the store the moment that you were free.
You were a pretty far cry from Steve Harrington’s usual type - the all-black wardrobe, the intricate make-up, and the wild hair of the goth scene had never been of any interest to him before. In fact, a younger, more entitled and rude Steve would have probably mocked your appearance. The only time he would spare a second glance at someone clad in black was usually because their attire was garishly off-trend, but otherwise he’d never once spared any goth chick a second glance.
That is, until that one morning when he dropped his keys and caught you staring at him.
Steve was almost certain that he’d seen you around before, though only sparingly and in his periphery; he could have been confusing you with some of the other mall goths he’d seen lurking about, but he was pretty damn confident that he recognized you specifically.
He was taken aback by the fact that you were watching him so intently, his interest only amplified by the way your expression morphed from curiosity into a glare before you briskly walked off in the direction of your respective workplace. Steve couldn’t help but watch you go, an intrigue planted in his brain as he looked you up and down, perhaps trying to commit your appearance to memory. He wondered why you seemed so focused on him, which quickly morphed into wondering about you in general.
It was almost refreshing to have someone new to be curious about, considering that chicks seemed to abruptly lose interest in Steve over the summer. It bolstered his confidence to catch you staring at him, a confidence that he didn’t realize had wavered so much.
Oftentimes, Steve would go days at a time without thinking about the goth girl who gave him pause, but every time he thought he was free of you, you’d appear again like clockwork. He’d see you in the parking lot as the two of you rushed into work, on a lunch break trying to scarf down your food so you wouldn’t be late, talking with people who were maybe coworkers or friends. And even that brief, stinted interaction when you were in line at Scoops Ahoy managed to intrigue him despite your rudeness.
Again, it was usually only in passing, but Steve was becoming increasingly aware of your presence… and increasingly aware of the fact that he found you very attractive.
He didn’t know a damn thing about you - not your name or what your voice sounded like or your interests - but Steve was beginning to enjoy those random sightings of you around Starcourt, even looking forward to them as if you were a rare lunar eclipse. Watching you walk quickly across the mall and towards the escalators became a guessing game for him, wondering which shop you worked in - though, he didn’t want to be that guy who would swing by your workplace just so he could catch a glimpse of you. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that he was so drawn to, yet he couldn’t resist looking each time you were nearby.
Robin, of course, wasn’t stupid and caught onto the fact that someone was drawing Steve’s attention every now and then, but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out who. Although they’d only been friends for a few months at this point, the two of them were practically attached at the hip, so it was strange that Steve wasn’t talking about whoever this new distraction was.
Considering that he all but gave up on flirting with girls at Scoops and hadn’t been on a date in months - so far as Robin was aware - it only made this scenario all the more intriguing to her. Now, Robin was committed to figuring out who had caught Steve’s eye and why he wasn’t saying anything about it.
She finally got her answer one day as the two of them were walking through Starcourt after work, Robin insisting on stopping into a couple of stores before leaving. She noticed Steve clearly focused elsewhere, and so she tried to slyly look around, hoping she’d pinpoint the chick that had Steve’s head turning. Evidently, he must have been caught, because Steve whipped his attention around rapidly, even stumbling over his feet as he tried to play nonchalant.
So, Robin looked back while stifling her laugh, eyes scanning the crowds for anyone who could be the culprit - she was expecting it to be obvious, to see a gorgeous girl in preppy clothes with equally as generic hair and make-up. But when no one instantly stood out, it made her pause, eyes focusing in on each and every face more carefully.
Steve hadn’t realized that she stopped walking until he was a few paces ahead, looking either side of him before turning around towards his best friend. His brows furrowed with confusion as he asked what she was doing, but Robin was too focused to answer; so, he walked back towards her, trying to follow her line of sight, still feeling a touch frazzled by the fact that you’d caught him staring at you so damn openly.
It took a minute, but Robin was still coming up blank - no one looked to be Steve’s type at all. She turned her attention back to him, eyes narrowing with a scrutiny that was making him nervous all over again.
“Who were you looking at?” Robin asked. Steve’s brow rose with worry that he’d been caught before he tried to put on a false show of innocence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit.” Robin’s expression became even more scheming, eager to play detective and uncover what Steve wasn’t telling her, “Don’t play dumb, I know you’ve been distracted by someone recently, so who is it?”
Despite it being an uphill battle, Steve still tried to feign confusion, “I haven’t been distracted by anyone.”
“You’re not as subtle as you think.” Robin smiled devilishly, looking around Starcourt again, “So, why are you afraid of just telling me?”
Steve stared dumbly at her for a moment, heart drumming nervously as if he’d committed some kind of crime. With a deep sigh, he shook his head while looking down at the ground in defeat - he figured the worst Robin could do was pick on him a little, so there was no reason to be this secretive about it.
So, Steve looked back towards Spencer’s, half hoping you wouldn’t be at the front of the store, but you were still there directly in his sight. He pointed towards you, praying that you wouldn’t happen to look back up just like you did a couple of minutes ago. Robin followed his finger, her brow knitted together when the only person who fit the bill even slightly was you, the goth chick with the “don’t talk to me” attitude.
She looked between you and Steve, back and forth enough times that it was nearly slapstick; everything she knew about Steve up to this point hadn’t prepared her for the realization that maybe goth could be his type. Is that why he hadn’t mentioned it, why he hadn’t once discussed a new crush he was maybe developing?
Once the shock of it had passed, Robin’s eyes lit up with amusement, which only made Steve sigh in preparation for the inevitable annoyance she was about to be, “How the hell do you know her?”
“I don’t know her.” Steve insisted quickly, “I just started noticing her, that’s all.”
Robin’s expression grew giddier as she bumped her shoulder into his, “Then when are you going to try to get to know her?”
“I’m not.” Steve rolled his eyes.
“Why?” Robin couldn’t help but grow invested in the scenario, especially because Steve was being so resistant to it, “What’s the harm in just talking to her?”
“I don’t know if I’m even into her, let alone if she’d give me the time of day.” Steve argued as if it were the most obvious thing.
“Only way to find out is to try.” Robin sing-songed, delighting in her best friend’s torment.
“And be on the receiving end of that glare again? Yeah, no thanks.” Robin shook her head at his stubbornness, prepared to keep up her taunts, but Steve spoke again before she got the chance to, “Look, drop it, I’m not gonna talk to her.”
“But aren’t you at least a little curious? Maybe she’s your soulmate.” Robin teased as Steve began walking again, all too invested in putting as much distance between you and him as possible. She had to jog a few steps just to catch up with him again, “Come on, Steve, just go for it.”
“I’m really not as interested as you think I am.” Steve argued as Robin looked back towards Spencer’s again briefly. She hummed with doubt, clearly not convinced by the disinterested front he put up; as Steve’s best friend, she decided it was her job to just give him the little nudge he needed, she just had to figure out how and when.
As if he could tell that she was scheming, Steve raised his brows with a warning look that was far from intimidating, “Robin, don’t.”
She continued to mull things over, quite intent on her new mission, but to appease Steve, she nodded noncommittally while rolling her eyes, “Sure, whatever, I’ll drop it…”
Eventually, Thanksgiving had come and gone; with the cold weather now a mainstay in Hawkins, you stupidly mourned the fact that Steve (and god how you wish you could just forget that name) was now wearing pants instead of those little shorts. Despite your best efforts not to think about him too much, you could no longer resist letting him cross your mind from time to time.
Around that same time that the shorts were retired for the coming winter, your manager had roped you into a supervisor role that you didn’t even want; it was more thrust upon you once they began hiring seasonal staff to help with the influx of holiday customers. This meant that you were constantly swamped with tasks, overworked and underpaid as you seemed to spend every damn day at Starcourt covering shifts or counting inventory or arguing with the delivery guys over damaged shipments.
And all for a minimum wage position at some gag store like Spencer’s freaking Gifts? You decided that you may have to do some job hunting once the holidays had come to an end.
To top it all off, you were now stuck short staffed for the closing shift on Christmas Eve thanks to two employees calling out “sick;” really, you thought it was ridiculous that Starcourt was even open on the holiday, but nothing was going to stop capitalism America from catering to those last-minute, needy shoppers.
Honestly, you didn’t celebrate the holiday, so it wasn’t as if being at work was keeping you from family or friends or parties - but you really weren’t excited to deal with argumentative customers and theft and the impatient crowds of people who simply couldn’t be bothered to do their shopping any sooner. That was the kind of shit that was bound to make you rip your hair out.
But, alas, here you were, trying to keep it together as shoppers crammed into the small store, ruining displays, asking for price checks, being rude and dismissive with the kids at the registers. It was exactly the kind of chaos you were expecting, and yet somehow it was even more insufferable than you had prepared yourself for.
Considering that you were the keyholder for tonight, you tried your damnedest to keep the ship known as Spencer’s afloat - you were all too happy to get confrontational with rude customers, get your fellow employees off the registers when it was clear shit was becoming too much, ran back and forth from the stockroom to the store floor in your best effort to keep the shelves full. The stress of it all dared to turn you into an addict of some kind, because right now you could definitely use a fix of something that you couldn’t even name.
The shop was only set to be open for another half hour, and although the crowd had thinned, there were still far too many customers here for your liking - at this rate, you’d be stuck at work half the night just trying to get everyone out of here and get the store closed properly. At least the staff looked less stressed than before, at least you had the chance to breathe between shopper complaints and demands, though that did little to alleviate your frustrations.
As you were busy putting out the last few boxes of He-Man figures that had been flying off the shelf all goddamn night, you could sense someone approaching you from the corner of your eye, a question hurriedly leaving their lips before you even had a chance to greet them.
“Would it be a little vulgar if someone gave this as a gift to the person they were interested in?” Your brow furrowed as you met the eyes of a girl about your age, her freckled face cute and friendly as she held out a pillow in the shape of tits. You looked back and forth between the gag pillow and her face a few times; although you were exhausted by the day you had, something about her question dared to amuse you, as if she knew that you needed some kind of pick-me-up.
And it had almost worked, too, until you noticed the man who had followed just a step behind her; he dragged his hand down his face uncomfortably, shaking his head while hissing her name frantically beneath his breath. His posture suggested he was exacerbated - as if he didn’t want to be here or as if they’d already had this conversation or as if he was embarrassed. It then took you another split second to realize who he was, as he wasn’t wearing that familiar uniform that you’d been trying and failing to ignore for months.
It was Steve.
Your expression instantly sobered as he looked between you and the girl, his panicky, apologetic gaze making you nervous instantly. Just like you had done nearly half a dozen times since learning of Steve’s existence, you impulsively glowered at him as if to dismiss your fears, although you immediately cursed yourself for doing something so stupid.
But maybe he didn’t notice, because his attention was already on the girl instead, brows raised with surprise at her behavior, his attitude akin to that of a scolding parent tired of their kid’s shit, “Jesus, Robin, really?”
Robin shrugged defensively, although there seemed to be some kind of knowing amusement in her eyes, a twinkle of mischief, “Well, I wanted a second opinion.”
“Oh yeah, sure you did.”
You looked between the duo awkwardly, not wanting to walk away considering that you were on the clock, but so wishing to be anywhere but here right now, as you could feel your face growing warm simply because Steve was standing right here in front of you.
In a measly attempt to calm your nerves, you returned focus to the box of figures you’d been unloading just a few moments ago. Beside you, the two bickered in hushed tones, just quiet enough that you weren’t really sure what the problem was or what they were saying to one another.
You took a deep breath through your nose, pressing your lips together as you put the last Skeletor up on the shelf; you had to decide if you were going to leave them to their squabbling or try to assist them. And for whatever reason, you chose professionalism over your selfish desire to get the hell out of dodge.
“Depends on how well you know the person.” You said plainly, cutting through their spat and quieting the both of them. You picked up the now empty box while looking from one pretty face to the other, your gaze tired from the long day that you’d had, “If they’re already a friend, hopefully they’ll laugh, but some fake tits probably won’t make someone interested in you.”
Your nose scrunched as you mulled over the girl’s question again, looking down at the stupid pillow that was dangling forgotten in her hand. A silent conversation was clearly happening between Robin and Steve, if their expressive faces were anything to go on. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment to compose yourself - it was damn near closing time, and the last thing you needed was to be stressing out over the guy that you did not have a crush on. He was just nice to look at, that’s all, though having him here just a few feet in front of you made you antsy as all get-out.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” You asked dully, drawing their attention back to you; you tried not to swallow nervously under the inviting warmth of those deep brown eyes.
Although he looked about ready to say something, Robin spoke first, her tone purposeful to the point that it was suspicious, “Actually, if you don’t mind, Steve here was looking at something behind the counter; could you show it to him?”
Steve shot Robin a look that seemed to be either a threat or a plea, and you continued to look between them with doubt, uncertainty, and trepidation; your shift had already been ridiculous as it is, and whatever shenanigans were clearly going on here was the last thing you wanted to worry about. Once again, you could see some kind of conflict happening even without any words being spoken between them.
So, you sighed decisively, shaking your head a little, “I’ll meet you up at the counter whenever you’re ready.”
You ducked into the storeroom to discard your empty box, taking a moment to breathe and relax before peeking out the door to see if your walking away had prompted Steve and Robin to leave or if they were still lingering around somewhere. A muttered “fuck” passed between your lips as you saw them clearly bickering near the front entrance, as if one wanted to go and one wanted to stay. You rolled your eyes up towards the ceiling because of course this would happen to you tonight, obviously the one person you’d been mildly attracted to recently would show up at your workplace when you were at your most stressed. So damn typical.
Collecting yourself, you walked from the storeroom towards the front counter, curious if they’d actually come up to look at whatever the hell Steve was supposedly interested in; really, you were hoping they’d just give up and leave, it would certainly make your night easier. You tried your damnedest to not look back over in their direction, letting the other customers serve as a much needed distraction, ringing up their purchases and trying to shoo them out and close shop as quickly as possible.
You were starting to think that the rush to lock up the store for the night had dissuaded Steve and Robin, because you couldn’t see either of them from your vantage point at the checkout counter. And by some miracle, you didn’t have any customers in need of assistance - at least for the moment - so you let your shoulders deflate, a relieved sigh escaping you. Less than ten minutes and you’d be able to lock the doors.
But your luck had run out almost immediately, because you saw someone coming up to the counter from the corner of your eye; preparing yourself, you took a deep breath and turned, though your confidence had withered away the moment you met their eyes.
Steve approached you alone, Robin nowhere in sight, which made your nerves even worse than before. His mouth was open as if he was about to speak, but no words were coming out, looking like he was frozen beneath your gaze; you had to resist that impulsive urge to glare, though you were certain you nonetheless didn’t look terribly approachable.
He leaned stiffly against the counter, trying his best to look easy and unbothered despite clearly feeling the opposite. You simply stared for a moment, unsure of yourself, before you managed to pull it together at least briefly.
“What was it that you wanted to look at?” You asked in your monotonous customer service voice, bracing your hands on the counter as if that could keep you calm and steady.
“There wasn’t actually anything,” Steve finally found his voice as he looked nervously between your eyes. Your brow curved up curiously, though a part of you had nearly suspected that answer.
“Yeah, I figured.” Your tone came off colder than you intended, and it caused apprehension to immediately flashed across Steve’s face. Realizing your mistake, you looked around yourself before rounding the counter, walking purposefully as if you had something else you needed to be doing, though all you were really doing was trying to escape. You could feel Steve following, the crowded shelves of merchandise forcing him into nearly too close proximity behind you.
“Sometimes Robin just says things, you know, she can be funny like that.” Steve explained as your expression furrowed, wondering what his deal was. You stopped walking abruptly, causing Steve to bump right into you, ill-prepared for the sudden halt. As he quickly apologized, he steadied his hands on your shoulders for the briefest of seconds, just as suddenly snatching them away as if he’d been burned by you.
You spun around to face Steve, his body so close to yours that you practically bumped noses in the process; your eyes widened nervously, taking in his handsome face as you tried to keep yourself composed. Steve’s string of repeated “sorry”s tapered off, his mouth ajar as his eyes grew larger, too, gaze bouncing around your face rapidly.
“Well,” You started in what you hoped was a confident, disinterested tone, “we close in about five minutes… so if you plan on buying something, you should probably go check out.”
Steve nodded dumbly as he looked between your eyes before he dropped his gaze towards the ground; you realized he had absolutely no merchandise in hand, “Uh huh, yeah, I’ll do that.”
You licked your lip, taking in the pretty way his hair fell in his face and the unsure look in his eyes. For a moment, you became engrossed in him, feeling your own expression soften the longer you stared. But just as quickly, you shook yourself out of it, trying to speak with an air of finality that simply didn’t land, “I… hope you have a good holiday?”
Steve looked up at you through his lashes, though you turned quickly to continue walking away before you could get caught up in his eyes. But apparently he wasn’t ready for the conversation to end just yet, because he followed after you and continued, “Sorry, wait--”
You paused with a deep, nervous sigh, getting more and more edgy as the moments ticked by. What could this clean-cut, vanilla guy possibly want with someone like you?
You spun again, crossing your arms comfortingly in front of you while raising a brow; you realized after you’d done it that you probably looked pissed and defensive rather than nervous. When you didn’t say anything, Steve tripped over himself while trying to find his words, cheeks tinged with pink as he looked anywhere but your eyes.
“Look, I know I’m holding you up and you probably want to get home to your family or a boyfriend or something, I mean, it’s Christmas Eve, of course you’d have plans,” he started quickly, and there was something so damn charming about it that you couldn’t help the way your eyes lit up, gaze softening as you studied him; even still, your heart beat quickly inside your chest, “but I just, uh, I’ve seen you around the mall and thought I’d… introduce myself.”
Steve finally looked between your eyes again, and it appeared that your expression only made him more anxious, because he began yet another spiel, “God, that makes it sound like I just go around introducing myself to every damn person in the mall. I don’t - honestly that would be a lot of work - I mean that I wanted to talk to you specifically, you know.”
You couldn’t help the surprised grin that tugged at the corner of your mouth, absolutely taken aback by the unexpected personality behind the handsome face. Considering that you’d only ever watched Steve from afar and barely interacted with him once before, you let yourself think he was some uninteresting, dull guy. That little assumption made it so much easier to ignore the desire to stare at him, to forget about him more often than not. Now that you were so close and seeing his actual personality come through, he was, unfortunately, winning you over far too easily for your liking.
“Oh, you’re smiling, that’s good,” Steve said, his eyes growing larger as if he hadn’t planned on saying that out loud. Pushing his hair back in a fluid motion, he looked around the store while trying to take a deep breath, “You’re kinda scary, you know that?”
An unexpected laugh escaped you, your rigid posture relaxing a hair more, “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
“It’s not a bad thing,” Steve held up his hands as if he were approaching a skittish animal.
“I know.” You responded without thinking; once again, your goddamn nerves were making you come across like a total bitch, “Uh, usually it makes people less interested in talking to me.”
There was something of a frenzied look in Steve’s eyes, and you realized that maybe your blunt attitude was causing him panic. His posture had grown a touch more tense than it already was, and your fear of fucking up was causing a chaos of butterflies in your chest.
But in that same moment, you remembered that you were still on the clock and desperate to close the store, your mind going back into work mode as you hissed a small “shit” beneath your breath.
“Look, I gotta close,” You started, catching the way Steve’s face fell in defeat. You quickly added in what you hoped was a more friendly tone than the one you’d been using all night, “but, uh… it was nice talking to you.”
Your expression furrowed with uncertainty, looking between Steve’s eyes as you awaited a possible acceptance or rejection to what you just said. Mirrored back to you was his own trepidation and doubt, as if he hadn’t quite understood what you said.
When he didn’t respond right away, you raised your brows questioningly, “Maybe… we’ll chat sometime?”
The question prompted Steve to nod quickly with a slightly improved look on his face, though he still seemed dumbfounded, “Yeah yeah, totally.”
You stared at each other for a long, awkward minute, neither really knowing what to say or do next. The tension between you filled your head with concern, and you were growing more and more confused the longer that you lingered.
“Well, uh… bye.” You said dumbly before awkwardly turning your back, walking deeper into the store so you could take even just a minute to calm the fuck down. You pulled a critical face at your own stupid behavior, muttering about how crudely you handled that pathetic excuse of a conversation. You tried to shake it off, knowing that you still had to get the rest of the customers moving so you could lock the damn doors, but you feared Steve would be a nagging little distraction in your mind until you finally made it back home.
Despite knowing better, you couldn’t help but look back over your shoulder apprehensively - you weren’t sure if you wanted to meet Steve’s eyes, or if you were hoping he’d already walked away. A jolt of anxiety shot up your spine when you found that he was still watching you, looking to be in deep consideration as if he was trying to make sense of that frazzling interaction. You both startled and turned away from each other at the same time, and all you could wonder is if you had fucked up enough that you’d scared Steve away.
When you finally had Spencer’s closed for the evening, you walked out in a group with your coworkers, everyone bracing themselves for the cold, teeth chattering and arms shivering. The parking lot was still littered with a couple dozen cars as you all moved together - clearly other Starcourt employees were stuck working even later than you.
You were barely listening to the eager conversation happening between the others, who were discussing their plans for the holiday; stupidly, you were still hung up on your conversation with Steve. Your day had already been stressful and shitty, so totally biffing that interaction was yet one more dumb notch in your belt. You really shouldn’t have gotten yourself worked up over it, but your nerves clearly had other plans, because now it was the only thing you could think about whether you liked it or not.
The group eventually all went their separate ways as you continued meandering to your stupid little car, not in any rush to get back home. Packed snow crunched beneath your feet as pretty flakes stuck to your face and hair; although it was cold, the night was still and the temperature almost soothing after the long day you’d had.
Unlocking your car, you carelessly tossed your bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, fumbling with the key as you tried to slot it into the ignition. But once you turned the key, all you got was a sad sputtering sound from the engine, which filled you with instantaneous dread. You paused for a moment before trying again, yet once more, the car wouldn’t start.
Really? One more goddamn thing to worry about tonight. Grumbling and huffing, you kicked the door open again and popped the hood of the car, though what you were looking for you had no idea - you knew absolutely nothing about cars, hell, you could barely put air in the tires without it becoming a whole goddamn ordeal.
With your hands braced on the lifted hood, you stared down into the old engine as if you’d miraculously figure out what needed to be done; you tried to take deep, calm breaths so that you wouldn’t freak out unnecessarily, but you could feel that impulse slowly bubbling up inside you.
To let out some of the frustration, you kicked the front bumper, your heavy boot protecting you from feeling any pain on impact. Your arms fell with defeat to your sides, because, unfortunately, simply staring at the engine did nothing to resolve the problem.
Around you, other cars left the parking lot slowly, but no one made an effort to stop and offer you assistance, not that you were really expecting any help to begin with. Headlights reflected off the glistening snowy surfaces, frost and ice crackled under tires, and you stood there like some sad, pathetic ghost of Christmas whatever-the-fuck.
“Need a hand?” A voice called from behind you, taking you by surprise, considering that you assumed the driver was simply going to pass by and ignore you. You sighed deeply to get your stress under control, because without looking you already knew exactly who it was that offered you assistance; at this rate, it was damn near ridiculous and ironic that he’d be the one to show up to your rescue.
You turned slowly to face Steve, hoping you didn’t look too pathetic as a small glare settled in your eyes. He hung out the window of his car, brow knotted with worry as he looked between you and your shitty vehicle; you leaned your rear against the front of your car, crossing your arms to protect yourself from both the cold and Steve.
“You’re not following me, are you?” You jested with little amusement, because what else were you supposed to do after the shitty day you’d had?
“Not on purpose.” Steve answered simply, pulling in next to you and putting his car in park, “Battery?”
You shrugged with a melodramatic sweep of your arms, a defeated, sad laugh escaping you, “Who fucking knows.”
There was a decisiveness to Steve’s expression as he climbed out of his vehicle and popped the hood, opening the trunk and digging out some jumper cables. The focused look on his face helped to ease you despite the way your night was going, and it very nearly made you smile through your frustrations.
“Well, let’s hope this works.” Steve said as he hooked up the cables, double checking his work along the way to make sure he didn’t blow up either engine. Eventually, he pointed towards your driver door, “See if we can get this started up.”
You nodded quickly as the two of you slid into your respective driver's seats, Steve starting his car up first; but after three attempts, your damn car still wouldn’t start, and you slumped back into the seat, groaning loudly while tugging at your hair in frustration; god, what kind of shit luck were you dealt?
Steve came up and leaned in the open door frame, eyes sympathetic as he gazed down at you; you didn’t even have the energy to be nervous about his close proximity or the gentleness of his gaze. A weak laugh escaped you as you shook your head, “As if tonight couldn't get any worse.”
You met Steve’s eyes, looking between them pitifully as the cold of the evening began to seep into your bones. He stared back sympathetically, his expression troubled by the fact that he couldn’t fix the problem for you. Despite all your earlier nerves and awkwardness around him, all you felt right now was amity between you two.
“Thanks for trying.” You sighed, resting your head back and staring absently at the ripped and tattered ceiling. You swallowed down the upset lump in your throat, “I meant what I said earlier - about wanting to chat sometime, I mean.”
A faint smile graced Steve’s lips as he glanced down at his feet a moment, meeting your eyes again kindly, “Bet you weren’t expecting it to go like this, though.”
You shook your head while closing your eyes as a smirk dared to tug at the corner of your mouth, “Not in the slightest…”
Steve wet his lips as his brow furrowed again, looking around at the parking lot that was growing emptier as the minutes ticked by. His face was contemplative for a long beat before he brought his attention back to you while taking a deep breath, “Let me give you a ride.”
You balked at the suggestion, shaking your head quickly, “You really don’t have to do that, I’ve caused you enough trouble--”
“What else am I supposed to do, leave you stranded here?” Steve interrupted, raising his brows for emphasis, waving his hand in a “follow me” motion as he stepped back. You stayed planted in your seat, watching him with uncertainty; Steve gave you another look when you didn’t follow, “Come on; gives us a chance to chat some more, right?”
You hesitated a couple moments longer, but eventually you scooped up your bag and stiffly climbed out of the car; Steve was already in the process of unhooking the cables and closing your hood. As you awkwardly stood there waiting for him to finish, he studied you from the corner of his eye, which prompted your brows to furrow as you went on the defensive.
“You better not be kidnapping me.” Your statement caused Steve to laugh and shake his head at how ridiculous that notion was; he closed the hood of his car next and rounded to the driver’s side.
“You’re scary, remember? I don’t have the balls to kidnap you.” You couldn’t help but smile gaily at his response, which seemed to please Steve, as an equally delighted look crossed his face, “Oh, another smile, good.”
You rolled your eyes, though you were nonetheless still fascinated by how nervous Steve seemed to be around you. As you stared at him for a brief moment, he chewed the inside of his cheek and made another hand gesture before ducking into his car, “Come on, it’s getting cold.”
So, you followed his lead and slid into the passenger seat, though once you closed the door it was like another wave of tension washed over you - stupid as it seemed, you found there to be something so personal about being alone in a car with someone you barely knew. Your posture grew stiff almost instantly, eyes staring straight ahead into the snowy night as Steve cranked up the heat and began a slow crawl across the parking lot.
“Where am I heading?” Steve asked while glancing over at you; you kept your eyes forward as you told him your neighborhood. For a very long minute, the two of you were silent as the strangeness of this scenario dawned on you both. Steve cleared his throat, “Sorry about earlier.”
You glanced over at him with a confused look, trying not to shrink nervously when he turned to face you, “What do you mean?”
“I was bothering you at work,” he started with a shrug, “kinda wasted your time.”
Timidly, you looked back towards him again, thankful that his eyes were back on the road, “You weren’t bothering me.”
Steve made a face as if he didn’t believe you, “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”
You hummed in acknowledgement of your earlier attitude, forcing yourself to be a little more communicative so he couldn’t misinterpret you again, “We didn’t really get the time to talk much… and I was nervous.”
Steve laughed, an inviting sound that drew both an amused and confused look across your face. He glanced at you again, shaking his head humorously, “You, nervous? That’s not the impression I got at all.”
The corner of your mouth tugged up as your eyes looked about his face, “Then what impression did you get?”
Steve took a breath, searching for the right way to phrase this, “That you didn’t want to talk to me in the slightest.”
“Oh.” You answered dumbly; when Steve shot you another look from the corner of his eyes, you tried to find your words, “No, I did want to talk to you… just didn’t know how.”
A far too charming smile spread across his lips as he turned to you again, “Didn’t know how?”
“You’re a little scary, too.” You shrugged with a faint grin, which grew larger at the amused twinkle in Steve’s eyes; again, he laughed, a sound that you could easily get used to.
“Never been told I was scary before…” He focused on the road for a long beat, fingers lightly drumming on the steering wheel as he mulled that thought over. Evidently, it prompted another question, because he gave you another curious glance, “Why were you scared of me?”
Your brows rose as you opened your mouth, but you hesitated before any words could come out. Nerves started to drum in your chest again as you felt heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks; and with the way Steve patiently kept looking over at you, the heat became even worse, “I, uh… no reason.”
Steve’s face twisted with suspicion at your lack of an explanation, narrowed eyes shooting a critical look in your direction. Feeling the intensity of his stare, you kept your unblinking gaze on the road, watching the snow falling gently in front of you.
Steve mulled your answer over, recalling that first day he caught you staring, the time you came to Scoops, and finally your first conversation earlier this evening; of course he could suspect reasons for why you would be nervous or hesitant, but he also wasn’t stupid enough to assume anything about you either.
“Well,” he cleared his throat, drawing on all that confidence he once harbored back when he was still King Steve, when he could land any girl he set his sights on. Though that was a side of him that he hadn’t seen nearly this entire year, he figured he had to shoot his shot eventually, “I can tell you why I was scared…”
The way he trailed off made you curious, although there was something dubious about it. You looked back towards him with a knot between your brows, and now that he had your attention, Steve’s face lit up, his smile almost causing you to drop your guard.
“I’ll tell you, but then you have to tell me why you were scared.” You shook your head with an unamused laugh, knowing that when the other shoe dropped it would be something like this. Despite yourself, you grinned, still falling for Steve’s charm even when he had you backed into a metaphorical corner.
“Oh, you wanna know real bad, huh?” You teased, because really that was your only defense between Steve and the nervousness that was crawling over you again. He gave you a short nod, his expression taunting and challenging.
“I mean, the least you could do is tell me, considering that I’m giving you a ride and all…” Steve’s unexpected playfulness took you aback, causing you to gape for a moment, which only seemed to amuse him even more. You tried to relax your expression, to put up a front of disinterest, but it was far too late for that, “So?”
You rolled your eyes and smirked, even as your heart stuttered; shit, you did not want to tell Steve what you thought of him. Maybe you could come up with a convincing lie, or maybe you could just intimidate him again until he gave up. But admitting to the fact that maybe you were crushing on him, that this ordinary pretty boy was somehow winning you over? Nope, that was something you did not want to do.
And yet… why had he come to talk to you in the first place? Why did he want to introduce himself, why was he so willing to help you on Christmas Eve when he should be off somewhere with family or a partner? Your curiosity was growing by the minute.
“Fine.” The word left your mouth before you could second guess it. Steve looked at you almost in disbelief, as if he had convinced himself you wouldn’t take the bait; you stared back, hoping your eyes didn’t give away your hesitation. Despite the warmth in the car, you shivered with nerves and apprehension.
Steve swallowed while looking back towards the road, nodding faintly to himself as he considered whatever the hell was going on in his head. You waited, impatience making you fidgety as your eyes practically burnt a hole in the side of his head.
“How much further to your place?” Your expression twisted with surprise, anticipation put to an abrupt halt thanks to the whiplash that came with the question. You studied Steve for a moment before realizing that maybe he was trying to buy some time or simply avoid the subject all together. Now, you were growing evermore curious, opening and closing your mouth smally as you considered whether or not you’d play along.
“Um, five minutes up the road.” You answered, trying to shake yourself from your mild stupor. Steve simply nodded, and you couldn’t help the way you leaned towards him just a little as if you were studying a newly discovered species, “What, you scared now?”
“No.” Steve looked back at you, “Just wanna make sure I don’t miss your house.”
Your faint smile and narrowed eyes made it clear that you didn’t believe him, though he tried to remain convincing. Slumping back into your seat a little, you kept your eyes locked on Steve, studying him and looking for evidence of hesitation. Considering it was per his suggestion that you agreed to admit anything, you couldn’t help but suspect that it was nerves that got to him, regardless of what he said.
Realizing that your brief time with Steve was soon to come to a close, you frowned forlornly, gaze dropping from his face. Considering that this whole night had been a little weird, you weren’t sure why you were so disappointed that it would end, but… perhaps that was because it felt like something was only just beginning, cheesy as that sounded. A part of you felt that if shit stopped now, it wouldn’t get to start up again - whether that was true or not didn’t matter.
Your heart picked up speed in your chest as you turned your eyes back towards Steve, words spilling from your lips before you could even realize what you were saying, “Can we just drive for a bit?”
Steve’s brows rose in surprise as he looked back over at you, his lips parting as if he had a question to ask, though no words came out. Suddenly embarrassed by your silly request, you raised your hands up as if in surrender, though your tone ended up being defensive.
“I mean, only if you’ve got nothing going on. Stupid of me to ask considering it’s Christmas Eve, but I’ve got nothing to go home to so I just thought…”
You weren’t sure what you thought, that was the whole problem. The look on Steve’s face was tough to read as he considered what you said, and, feeling foolish, you melted into your seat a little as your face twisted self-consciously.
“Let’s drive.” Steve finally said with a certainty to his tone, taking you aback as he gave you a winning look, “Where to?”
You shrugged dumbly, still trying to fend off your chagrin. Steve took you in for a moment before returning his eyes to the road and driving towards an unknown destination.
Only a minute later, he broke through the silence again, “So, is no one home?”
You shook your head, though you realized he almost certainly didn’t see it, “Dad works nights.”
Steve opened his mouth to add something, but stopped to mull it over first, “My parents are out of town. No one’s waiting for me at home, either.”
Although your brows drooped down, you gave a good humored smile as you two met eyes, “Hm, and they didn’t take you?”
“They never do.” Steve smirked and rolled his eyes, though you suspected that a part of him wasn’t nearly as okay with that as he led you to believe.
For a long beat, you studied him in silence, enjoying his profile as he focused on the road; you took in the thoughtful look in his eyes, the inviting shape of his lips, the downturn of his brows. God, you shouldn’t have been feeling all these butterflies thanks to some guy you only just met, and yet they became harder to ignore the longer you stared at Steve’s pretty face.
He, too, looked towards you when he had the chance and took you in closely, making you squirm as his dark eyes trailed from your eyes to your lips, down your neck and body before jumping back up. Lucky for you, he still had to drive, otherwise you may have melted under his intense, deliberate gaze.
About a minute into the silence that settled between you two, Steve turned up the radio, just enough to have background noise but not too loud to be disruptive. Coming through the speakers was some classic Christmas song that made you cringe; as if he caught your averse reaction, Steve switched stations, though the pop rock that took its place was no relief to you. You tried to ignore the music, not wanting to be sour about something as unimportant as that.
Although you still felt tense given the quiet that was stretching out between you and Steve, there was a certain comfort in the silence; driving down an empty road, snow falling gently, and a cute boy to keep you company wasn’t half bad.
Again, you found yourself studying Steve’s features, questions and inquiries coming to mind as the minutes passed - what were his hobbies? Was he from Hawkins, or was he a transplant like you? What were his friends like? Hell, what even was his last name? So many things you could ask, and you didn’t know where to start.
Well, there was one place to start, if you were feeling a little mischievous, but even the thought of it made you anxious and antsy all over again.
“Why were you scared earlier?” You blurted out, your own brows rising in surprise; maybe you had to get a better hold of your nerves, else you might keep saying things without thinking.
Steve shot you an apprehensive glance, though he tried to mask it with a smile, “Ah, so my distraction didn’t work.”
“Not in the slightest.” You grinned even as your nerves made it appear sheepish and noncommittal, “And don’t just say it’s because of the whole goth thing.”
“Well, not the whole goth thing,” Steve teased, pleased with himself when he caught you fighting back an amused look. After a moment, though, he sighed smally, looking around at the neighborhood he was driving through; apparently knowing where he was, he took a turn with some destination inevitably in mind.
You pulled a curious face when Steve didn’t elaborate, when his face settled into a decided look; you considered asking again for fear that he was going to find a means of distracting you once more from the question. But quickly enough, Steve pulled into the lot next to a park - it’s playground covered in snow - and you started growing nervous all over again.
With the car in park, Steve finally turned his undivided attention to you, causing you to unintentionally shrink back in your seat a little; there was a sort of safety that had come with him being preoccupied by driving, but now that his eyes were locked on you, your confidence began to diminish just a bit.
The look on his face held a sincerity that took you aback, and even in the relative dark of the night you could see the unsure gleam in his eyes. He took a deep breath before admitting plainly and assuredly, “I was scared because you were cute and intimidating.”
You blinked at him a couple of times as you processed his words, though they made your heart drum loudly enough that it was damn near distracting. As the seconds ticked by and you didn’t respond, briefly stuck in a dumbfounded look, Steve’s expression slowly fell into a look of dismay.
Getting antsy, he fumbled to elaborate, “I was interested in you, is what I mean. I wanted to get to know you, maybe flirt and see if we were compatible, you know, that sort of thing.”
Stupidly, you blinked at him again, feeling heat rising in your face - fuck, he thought you were cute, too. That should’ve been a relief, so why the hell did it make you even more nervous than you were before? You forced yourself to look away from his face as your eyes got big, because shit the butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely crazy right about now.
“You… were interested in me…” You muttered like a total idiot, but at least you finally found your voice again. Gazing up at him through your lashes, the look on Steve’s face was damn near worried as if he were preparing himself for rejection. Chewing on the inside of your lip, you finally smiled, bashfully dropping your gaze even as you tried not to sound as nervous as you felt, “I thought you were cute, too. Never had the guts to talk to you, though.”
A relieved little laugh leapt from Steve’s throat, his posture relaxing as he stared at you wide-eyed, almost as if he didn’t entirely believe you. Looking back up at Steve made your face and ears grow even hotter, his excitement at your response unexpected but nonetheless encouraging, even as you picked at your nails nervously.
“Oh, thank god, that makes this so much easier,” Steve breathed out, causing you to giggle, a delighted sound that was so unlike you.
As Steve continued to stare at you with disbelief, you tried to stop fidgeting with your fingernails, tried to relax the nervous energy in your chest because yes, this should be easier like he said, yet your body’s reaction would lead one to assume you were in all-out panic mode.
“You didn’t have the guts?” Steve asked with a laugh, “You saw how nervous I was to talk to you, right?”
You rolled your eyes with a fond shake of your head, “At least you did it; I figured a pretty guy like you wouldn’t be interested in me.”
“I thought you wouldn’t be interested in me.” Steve found himself staring at your lips, the temptation to lean over and kiss you coming over him abruptly, though he tried to shove it aside and ignore it, “So, I guess maybe I should ask you out now, right?”
You nearly giggled again as you looked between his eyes with a pondering expression, “I mean, we’re already here - alone, getting to know each other…”
Steve laughed smally, his eyes taking you in, “Oh, so this is a date now?”
You raised your hands in a vague, unsure motion, a faint knot between your brow, “Could be?”
Another charming smile crossed Steve’s lips, and you were still astounded at the fact that you could make him grin and laugh so damn easily. The look on his face was sweet as his gaze swept gently over your face, looking between your eyes and your mouth like he was studying you closely; when he finally drew his attention away, it was to stare out the windshield and watch the snow fall.
“You're not what I expected,” he started as you absently began to fiddle with your nails again, “I was worried you’d be mean, or that you’d laugh at me.”
An embarrassed smile drew across your lips as you took the opportunity to enjoy his profile again, “If I didn’t like you, I would’ve been mean… and I did laugh at you, once, when I first saw those stupid shorts you used to wear.”
A chuckle leapt from Steve’s throat as he looked back at you, “Yeah, they’re kinda ridiculous, aren’t they?”
“Your entire uniform is ridiculous.” You laughed gleefully, “But I… liked it.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed teasingly, “Oh, so that’s why you were staring.”
Easily flustered, you diverted your gaze down towards your hands, focusing on the chipped nail polish that you’d been fussing with, your face growing hot yet again,“Well, I just… yeah, okay, that’s why I was staring.”
Steve leaned in close towards you, dipping his head to try and catch your eyes, “If you hadn’t been staring, I wouldn’t have noticed you.”
You glanced up through your lashes, a faint grin on your lips as you met Steve’s attentive stare, “Then I guess we’re both lucky you have nice legs.”
Steve laughed again with utter amusement, something almost like wonder alight in his eyes; you thought he may have leaned in a little bit closer, but you weren’t quite sure. He glanced down at your hands briefly, watching the way you continued to gently scratch at your nail polish before meeting your eyes.
“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re a little strange.” Your brows rose at the comment, and so Steve continued, “Well, wait, don’t get mad about that. What I’m saying is that your energy is really nervous, but you don’t come across like you’re scared at all, you know what I mean?”
You looked between Steve’s eyes, wondering how he had managed to clock you so damn easily. Your nail picking became a little more aggressive as you came to your own defense, feeling jittery as you spoke quickly, “Yeah, I know I can come across pretty bitchy when I’m nervous, it’s landed me in trouble before. I don’t always think when I speak or I don’t know when to shut up, because my head gets all messy and loud, so it’s impossible to think clearly anyway--”
“Can I kiss you?” Steve blurted out with awe in his voice, disrupting your train of thought and causing you to look back at him with large eyes. He even looked surprised at the question, as if it leapt from his mouth without warning or thought; his expression was much like your own, taken aback and confused. He quickly tried to course correct, raising his hands defensively, “Sorry, you don’t have to answer that, that was totally out of left field--”
“Yes.” Steve paused and looked as if he didn’t hear you correctly, brow furrowed while trying to read the look on your face, which was torn between sheepishness and eagerness, “I’d like it if you kissed me, actually.”
Steve, admittedly, had not anticipated your approval of the idea, especially considering how it was asked. He just got so hung up on how damn cute your rambling was that it drew him like a moth to a flame; he wasn’t thinking when the question left his mouth. Shit, you said “yes” and it made his nerves spike, heartbeat eager in his chest as he took in your features a little longer, biding his time so he could calm down.
From where he leaned over the center console, Steve moved in a little closer, looking between your eyes and lips. You mirrored this as if in a trance, body drawing towards him; when you paused, a smile graced his lips as he said firmly but quietly, “Come here.”
You felt a chill up your spine thanks to the simple yet wanton direction, Steve’s delivery of it far more enticing than he probably realized. Despite wanting to kiss him, you felt momentarily frozen as you took him in, hooded eyes becoming enraptured by his lips.
Coming back to yourself, you took a calming breath and moved in closer, and once you were but a few breaths apart, Steve carefully cupped the back of your neck, fingertips grazing through your hair. The touch made you sigh longingly, your body melting in response; a knowing smile graced Steve’s face.
There was a moment’s hesitation between you as Steve’s warm breath brushed across your lips and cheeks; you swallowed down the lump in your throat just before Steve leaned in, closing that short distance between you to capture your lips with his own.
Your body jolted at the feel of his kiss, so soft and tentative, and yet charged with your combined pining for one another. As your body relaxed despite the frantic beating of your heart, your fingertips trailed up Steve’s arm, gently grabbing at his shoulders through the fabric of his coat. His mouth was tender and explorative against yours, touch gentle on the back of your neck as he pressed forth more confidently; you met him with equal need and curiosity, your body growing eager for more as your nerves slowly dissolved away.
When Steve tried to pull back and catch his breath, your grasp became assertive, fingers tightening on his sleeve as your other hand moved to cup his cheek. You felt a small, surprised laugh in his throat, taken aback by your eagerness, though he was just as enamored by it.
He carefully gripped your jaw with both hands, pulling you back just enough for him to take in a gasp of air; you, too, took a deep breath, delighting in the way his lips grazed against yours, the way his thumb lazily trailed along your cheek.
After a beat of consideration, Steve kissed you again needily, fingertips firm along your jawline as a fire lit up inside you. Your lips grew feverish as you leaned in closer, curling your fingers in his soft locks while an eager sound rose in your throat. As you kissed him with zeal, Steve matched your desire, mouth growing urgent against yours, grip becoming increasingly possessive while his tongue trailed along your lower lip. With another hungry sigh, you opened your mouth to him, tongues swirling together impatiently, desperate for one another.
You pushed closer to Steve, though the center console pressed irritatingly into your stomach, causing a faint sound of annoyance to rumble in your chest. Wanting to be so much closer, you broke away from the kiss abruptly, though his lips chased yours, gently nipping at your jawline as goosebumps broke out across your skin.
Finding your voice, you managed to instruct breathily, “Move your seat back.”
A huff of a laugh escaped Steve as he muttered against your neck, “What?”
You gave his hair a tug, directing him to look you in your lusty eye while repeating slowly, “Move the seat.”
He looked between your eyes for a moment before your reasoning dawned on him; he nodded quickly, pulling away so he could slide the seat back, creating enough space between him and the steering wheel for you to slot into. And you did just that, gracelessly crawling over the center console, careful not to crush Steve with wayward limbs or unsteady knees.
Once situated in his lap, you laughed smally at yourself while resting your hands comfortably on either side of his neck. Steve smiled at the way you bit your lip, hands firm as they settled on your hips; his hooded eyes took you in adoringly. Impatiently, your lips crashed onto Steve’s once more, feeling his fingers flex against you, eager little sounds escaping your throat.
Hooking your arms around Steve’s neck, you kissed him yearningly, his hands creating a hot, greedy trail down your back, pressing you flush against him as if he couldn’t get enough. The movement caused your hips to roll against his, making the both of you moan into the other’s mouth from the friction. The way your lips moved together was aching and salacious, tongues explorative and hands grabby as if trying to consume each other whole.
Even as he kissed you and groped at your body lewdly, there was something undeniably tender about Steve’s touch; his lips were endlessly hungry for yours, he held you close as if fearful of letting go. It caused a knot of arousal to twist in your stomach, your body blazing and impassioned after all these months of watching him and wondering what he tasted like.
Steve’s hands roamed your body in a slow, amorous crawl, teasing down your spine and grabbing at your ass, sending an eager shiver through you as if there weren’t all these layers of clothing keeping your skin separate from one another. Your mouths became even sloppier, kisses ravenous as you breathed each other in and tasted each other’s tongues, keen moans passing between your lips to his.
Your own grip at Steve’s neck and hair was growing possessive and domineering, tugging at his locks and scratching his skin enough that he whined shamelessly. Emboldened by the heat scorching between you, your hips rolled once more, slow and deep, making Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your ass as he groaned; the sound was far too encouraging, causing a coil to tighten in your center. You moved to hold his jaw softly in either hand, breaking away from his lips hastily with a big gasp for air.
For a long beat, you stared at one another through lusty, hooded eyes, watching the way Steve licked his lip as he watched the rise and fall of your chest. His lips were so damn inviting, and you wanted to lean right back in for more, yet you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself, didn’t want to be greedy for more than you could take. Steve’s hands gently trailed up your back again, finding a comfortable resting place at your waist, where his fingers drew absentminded circles into the back of your coat.
While staring at Steve’s handsome face, an airy laugh fell from your mouth, your eyes lighting up softly; his brow furrowed in response, leaning forward to tease at your lips, nose gently bumping yours.
“What?” You could hear the grin in his whispered question, causing you to laugh again, your smile causing your lips to brush gently; the intimacy of the moment dared to give you butterflies as you nearly shivered.
You bit the inside of your cheek in an effort not to giggle again, pulling back from Steve so you could trail your thumb along his jaw and to his plush lower lip, “You got a little something…”
Steve looked as if he was about to ask you to elaborate, but the gentle way that you cleaned his lip with your thumb stalled him as a captivated sigh left his throat. He realized then what you meant, noticing the way your near-black lipstick had smudged around your mouth; he laughed, too, while trying not to moan from how much he enjoyed your sweet and careful touch. Once you were certain you’d gotten most of your lipstick off of him, you delicately held his chin as if to inspect your work.
“Is making out with you always going to be messy?” He teased, bringing a hand up to help you with a smear of lipstick that was under your nose. Your cheeks warmed as you fondly rolled your eyes, half-tempted to lean back in for another kiss as if to prove a point.
You hummed smally in your throat, “Only if it becomes a regular thing.”
Steve’s brows rose cheekily as a large smile spread across his face, “Oh, I plan for it to.”
Heat rose in your cheeks again as you bit your lip, laughing faintly while looking away from his eyes as if bashful, “Do you?”
He leaned towards you again, trying to catch your eyes with his, “Well, I’d still like to take you on a real date, so, yeah, I’m counting on this becoming a regular thing.”
Another uncharacteristic giggle left you as a swell of excitement filled your chest, “Then maybe I have to do something new with my lipstick so you’re not wearing it by the end of every date.”
Steve shook his head, hands gently sliding down your neck and to your back as he stared at your lips again, “Don’t change it, I like it too much.”
You leaned in close again, lips grazing with Steve’s as you whispered flirtatiously, “Good, because I think I like kissing you.”
Steve’s nose brushed gently against yours, his lashes tickling your skin as you felt a faint smile on his lips, “You think?”
“Might need to do a little more of it just to make sure.” You planted a teasing kiss against his lips before pulling back, which made his hands grip tight on you as if you were something coveted.
“Well,” Steve’s lips were gentle as they grazed against yours, his voice low and sweet as his fingertips trailed along your back, “should we make sure now? You’ve got me all night, if you want.”
You hummed as if you were mulling the suggestion over, hoping that you were making Steve antsy from the wait. You smiled fondly as your hands wove into his hair, tugging gently as your lips hovered just centimeters away from his; when he tried to kiss you, you pulled back tauntingly, causing a faint sound of impatience in Steve’s throat. Unable to resist the laugh that escaped you, you caved to his desire and you pressed your lips longingly to his.
.
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Addt. Author's Note | I'm currently working on a follow-up to this oneshot because I just can't get enough of these two! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for that, please let me know, I hope to get it out soon!
Tags | @doomsdaybby @eddiernunson @k-yurieee @mediocredreams @raven-hawkins
@thecreelhouse @viviennemcgloine
#blown away blown up ummmmmmmmmmmmmm. what what what what what#HELLO??????????#HELLO??????????????#??????#.........#????#let me at him let me athim NOWWW GROWLLL GROWLL NEOWWWWWWW CLAWS AT DOOR NEOWWWWWWW#no but for real i was actually taken aback at how emotional i was reading this ive felt esp awful abt being so out of place recently#this is um whats the advert. he tapes a boat back together#this is my boat tape of of anti goth propaganda#steve fic#fave#fave fave fave fave fave fave 100000
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thinking about (can you tell I just update this blog with my thoughts) the lightning field and what exactly it is. some kind of spectrum of Mental spaces.
I'm chewing. This is initial thoughts - more so this is the initial concept I'm seeing in my head, red=mental green=material as always, or, actually, more so it's red=internal/self and green=external/other
Not exactly... something I'm happy with. What's the difference between an aspect's body and it's actions? I mean there is one, I'm saying that an aspect is like an organ, which is, yes, just a part of the body and just a part of the body that oversees a process, but it still is its own thing
this is also... too fluid and too nonlinear to put into a diagram. An aspect can appear in the mindspace, an aspect can take over a body, an aspect can be indistinguishable from the body because again its just a near-arbitrarily labelled part/organ of it - but mostly it'll be all three and more at the same time, it's a matter of how you're witnessing it
either way. thinking about the Lightning Field being on the left side of this compared to the right side. Which is to say I have a fair idea of what the right side is and I know that the LF is not on that side, the rest Im piecing together. ANVD as I interact with it is very heavily in the one just to the left of the mindspaces category, it's a traversable experience and it's... I guess like blood is in a body, in the type of realm and place ANVD is it's a part of the body. I'm not talking about a mindspace version of a place, or a recollection/memory of it, or a simulation of it, but the... mucous uh. membrane. that expands across and through the place, mostly across. fat makes flesh look yellow.
mental reigned area is an area of the astral highly overseen, reigned, by a mental force. thinking about the End of the World, a part of the world, deep ocean, leading into Lev's Black Hole aspect - it's not a manifestation of it, it's... actually this is not an example of this is it. I think that's more a visionary experience of something else. Either way, an area, dirt, broken up and suspended in the Mind of a reigning spirit, water, in order to make mud, more so a loose or tight emulsion that may or may not be fraying. if you do it right, it'll be indistinguishable from solid land bar the oppressive presence in it
territory is just a claimed area.
anyway. I am working on other things in the astral Ive got shit to do end of thoughts for now
#i hate making diagrams like this because things expand in so many directions they just dont fit in 2D diagrams#theres scales of self and other yes. and also self and other (but different). and also how heavily the consciousness is there#and also what kind of consciousness if its a nature (observed) spirit or an observer spirit or what#and levels of consciousness IE unconscious to superconscious and the loop that makes#and also how many people contributed/are contributing and how resonant/hive-mind-esque their minds are and and and#~abyssal murmurs#astral //
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need a powerpoint presentation on how visionaries work and what the preview exactly revealed because i just don't understand. im just a little stupid girl
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Hii 🥰🥰 plss a birthday language for sept3. Thanks
Language Of Birthdays: September 3 - Virgo
[You can find the rest of the series here; or check out my masterlist]
The Day Of The Mold Breakers
People born on September 3 are not always what they seem. Because others so often misread their nature and potentials, those born on this day may be forced to play roles in life which, although not always disagreeable, are not exactly what they want either.Though September 3 people are generally multi-talented, often one of their attributes is appreciated at the expense of the rest. Physical beauty in September 3 females is a case in point; because of good looks, their other fine qualities may go unrecognized. Men born on this day tend to be mistaken by others for an easy touch, or pigeonholed by career or family status.
Although they can impress others as quiet and tractable, no one who has ever tried to take advantage of a September 3 person will forget the result. Those born on this day have a steel-like armor that seals them off from all forms of flattery and vampirism. They may appear gentle, even a bit soft, but they will insist on being treated honorably and fairly, and vigorously resist efforts to push them around.
Because their work is often of a visionary nature, exceptional people born on this day can be way ahead of their time, and must understand if others are sometimes slow to approve of their methods. Fortunately, most of these mold breakers display great patience, as well as confidence in the value of their work. Thus they are well-equipped to endure years without recognition while continuing on with their endeavors. Their path to wider acceptance can be made a bit smoother, however, if they take time to explain to others in everyday language what their objectives are and how they intend to get there.
September 3 people of all abilities gravitate to action and controversy. They are often quite rebellious against the systems in which they must operate, particularly when they feel misunderstood. Both their buoyant optimism and their temperamental nature have to be kept under control. Developing emotional consistency and strong willpower is essential for their success in life.In regard to matters of love and friendship. September 3 people often display a markedly stoic attitude. Here they run two dangers: first, giving those close to them the impression that they don't care and. second, procrastinating when decisive action is needed. By being too accepting they may compromise themselves in romantic affairs and let certain important life choices slip away.
The greatest challenge for September 3 people is in being more open with others and fearlessly confronting self-doubts. They should put their high moral code and sense of justice to work in defence of those who need help, rather than being defensive about what they perceive as criticism directed against themselves. If those born on this day can discover and cultivate the best in themselves and diplomatically but firmly insist on the world taking notice of it. they will be better able to gain acceptance for their novel ideas and efforts.
Strengths:
Multi-talented
Socially adept
Patient
Weaknesses:
Procrastinating
Overly stoic
Yielding
Advice
Those born on September 3 must beware of becoming inactive. Once they are established in their chosen field they have a tendency to become sedentary, which can spell problems with diabetes, cardiovascular disease and gall bladder trouble. Therefore they should severely limit their fat and sugar intake while at the same time putting themselves on a regular exercise program. More athletically inclined September 3 people, for whom inactivity is not a problem, should endeavor to get enough sleep and rest, avoiding tobacco and alcohol particularly. In order to keep healthy psychologically. September 3 people must allow themselves a life which they really enjoy and resist the impulse to please others in order to be accepted, liked or loved. Developing a positive self-image and accompanying self-esteem is very important in this respect.
Actively seek to do what you really want to do
Develop your self-confidence and assertiveness
Don't be afraid to fail
Try not to cultivate too much mystery around what you do; take the time to explain your methods and motives to others
#virgo women#virgo astrology#virgo horoscope#virgo men#virgo#virgo daily horoscope#virgo sun#virgo sign#virgo season#virgo zodiac sign#virgo reading#virgo tarot reading#virgo monthly horoscope#earth signs
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it’s 12:30am and im losing it thinking about how exactly adam knew so much about visionaries and moderators and what are these government files he hacked into?? adam what are you up to????
#WHAT IS HE DOING#ok maggie this is how the adam declan dream team can still win —#bryde ronan and hennessy went on a road trip now i think adam jordan and declan should go on a road trip#some in laws bonding <3#the dreamer trilogy#adam parrish
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