#been preoccupied with Jonathan

[miwiromantics]

OH CHARLIE YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN,,,, OH THANKGAWD THANKIEW THANKIEW LORD OHMAIGAWD CHARLIE CHARLIE YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL MAN

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place. 

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser. 

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve. 

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him. 

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there. 

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again. 

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science. 

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head. 

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened. 

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.” 

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream. 

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless. 

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling. 

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.” 

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself. 

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone. 

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.” 

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious. 

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.” 

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right. 

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject. 

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off. 

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride. 

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say. 

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs. 

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself. 

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.” 

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole. 

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.” 

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. 

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.” 

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs. 

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.” 

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.” 

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head. 

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm. 

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset. 

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this. 

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.” 

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly. 

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile. 

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time. 

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.” 

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.” 

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

[deathon1leg]

byler & yellow curtains (inspired by this incredible post by @love-byers)

i wanted to contribute some of my own findings (which i’m sure have all been pointed out before—i’m no genius discoverer) and personal analysis!!

this post got way longer than i thought it would, but i kept noticing more things to talk about. it’ll be s4 focused but i have some from other seasons too if anyone’s interested in another post :)

mike and el’s fight:

outside of el’s room you can see yellow/orange curtains through jonathan’s door, and some of el’s window through hers. when mike goes in, the window is the brightest and most vibrant thing by far and its curtains are WIDE open. when he goes to put a plate down the left curtain is almost perfectly between them, dividing them like a wall.

at first she doesn’t look at him, so only we (and not mike) get to see her face, which is cast in light and a bit out of focus. (also, the yellow-green tree she’s putting back together for her diorama is peaking out in the corner.)

the bottom two pics are el’s POV, hence the blurry background mike—she feels disconnected from/misunderstood by him.

when she finally turns around is when she’s talking about being different and not belonging anywhere (which, while in an entirely different way, mike can relate to). the light hardly hits her face anymore because it’s shifted to mike’s POV. he sees her in shadow.

the next time we get a full shot of the window is when el says mike can’t even write “i love you”, when she stands in front of it and it frames her.

i wanna point out mike’s face here. he looks so—guilty? afraid? vulnerable? just more genuine than he does the rest of the fight. he knows he’s been caught, and he doesn’t have an excuse (which is why he ends up deflecting and calling her ridiculous)

when el grabs the letters, the window is between them, separating them, and a curtain is directly behind her. also, she says “from mike” or “from” a total of 7 times. coincidence? idk. maybe i’m reaching.

the window/curtains take up a whole half of el’s shot here, and are still “between” them in continuity—it’s as if they’re another character interrupting the shot, just like will did many times in s4 m*leven scenes.

a few lines before “they’re nobodies and you’re a superhero” mike says “you know what i think of you, you’re the most incredible person in the world”. it comes across as ‘i think you’re the most incredible person because you’re a superhero’.

i think el’s “not anymore” is a response both to “you’re a superhero” and the “you know what i think of you”, because this is when she comes to the conclusion that mike doesn’t see her as the most incredible person anymore, and that mike loved her powers/his idea of her rather than her as a person (i do believe mike cares for her a ton and loves her as a friend, but this is el’s perspective) .

her expression changes as she realizes these things, and mike can tell he didn’t convince her.

mike’s talk w/ will about his and el’s fight:

will paces back and forth in front of the yellow/orangeish curtained window in jonathan’s room, venting about everything. it’s not actually a curtain but a sheet/tapestry, so it doesn’t do much at all to block the bright light. (note the bright lava lamp, too.) mike’s not really listening, and is instead staring at the note el left: Dear Mike, I have gone to become a superhero again. From, El

mike knows what el’s saying here. ‘superhero’ = a version of herself that mike can love again, and ‘from, el’ = her acknowledging he doesn’t love her (again, el’s pov) OR implying she doesn’t love him anymore, either. imo it’s a coded breakup/pre-breakup.

this is preoccupying his mind enough that he’s not paying attention to will talking about the very serious situation they’re in.

the note is a symbol of mike’s lack of romantic feelings for el, which lead to the deeper truth of his true romantic feelings for will. with that in mind, here’s what will says when it cuts away from mike looking at the note:

i audibly gasped when the cogs turned in my brain while collecting these screenshots

textually, he’s talking about hawkins here, but COME ON. if we read between the lines…

imagine will’s rhetorical “you” is actually directed at mike—which is easy to do since he’s the only other person in the room—who’s currently staring at the symbolic note.

the thing that needs to be kept contained is mike’s feelings for will, which cannot be contained at all without el. she’s his cover, his beard, his excuse to not face what he’s trying to suppress.

the window appears even brighter when the camera focuses on will.

after this, mike absentmindedly responds with “yeah,” and will notices how distracted mike is, saying:

AKA, if you keep ruminating on your feelings they’re not gonna change, you know?

so, he crumples up the note and throws it in the trash.

this means one of two things: 1. he’s choosing to continue to ignore and “get rid of” his real feelings, or 2. he’s accepting that his feelings won’t change, and is gonna stop trying to get rid of them.

considering the wide open door/‘closet’ behind him, the poorly concealed window, and the “i didn’t say it” “you didn’t have to” scene that comes later (‘it’ being ‘i love you’, as established here, and this convo being coded as also about mike and will’s fight)… i’d bet on option 2. then again, contradictory things happen later, so it may be a mix of both 1 and 2.

a single proper ray of light is peaking through the window, and it’s landing right on a green (blue+yellow, but you knew that) chair, pointing towards them.

even though they’re talking about mike and el’s struggles, will is in the forefront of this shot. he’s lit up by the window’s light, and even though mike doesn’t see that side of his face i believe it’s from mike’s pov.

note the red (el’s color) lamp by will’s head signifying that he think the convo’s just about her, and the yellow potted plant below it that the lamp would be shining on if it were on. (also note the upside down cross next to mike, showing that he feels his feelings for will are “blasphemous”.)

suzie’s room:

this one’s one of my favorites. after eden tells them where suzie is she says “make sure to give that selfish little four-eyed shit a nice little shove for me”. they get to her room but she’s not there.

mike’s, in the front, is first to notice the window, which has open yellow curtains w/ blue trim. the window itself is open, with a gentle breeze and birdsong flowing through it as delicate music plays.

it continues to zoom in on mike as he says this. the door’s open behind him. for some reason or another we’re supposed to focus on mike’s reaction to the window.

“give ‘her’ a shove” as in shove ‘her’ out the window—it’s open, it’s beautiful, it’s calling out to mike, he just needs a shove. and whaddaya know, in the next shot…

mike was the first to stick his head out the window, and is still in the forefront. the sun gets in his eyes and he squints and dodges it a few times, but then he smiles. he doesn’t regret it.

and just ‘cause, here’s another shot where mike and will are perfectly framed by suzie’s yellow-beige curtains:

mike and will talk about el and vecna:

in the top one, they each have a window behind them again. the whole house is filled with windows (w/ open yellowish curtains or shades) and just straight up holes in the wall, and unobscured sun rays come through practically every one of them.

the little curtains in the top left are green-ish and look blue from afar. here, sunshine pours onto will, and mike is exactly right outside of the ray—look at his arm and shoe.

will explains that he can still feel vecna’s presence and that they need to kill him. with (yet again) yellow curtains behind him, mike says:

he crosses the distance and puts his hand on will’s shoulder, and the light hits it.

mike’s in the light now—his arm, at the very least. he reached out into it with intent, giving himself a shove, and now they’re sharing the same ray of sunshine. when they hear a car approaching they look behind themselves at the window, acknowledging it, and then they get up to look outside it.

aaaaand that’s it. i hope you enjoyed this post <3 i spent way too much time on it… disclaimer that i have no media education and this is all from my (untrained) perspective. i also don’t claim to be the first to discover any of this, i’m sure i’m late to the party for a lot of things here, so kudos to those more attentive than me. thanks for reading!! :)

[hyperactivelion]

Steve, Eddie, Johnathan and Argyle got high together, and are sprawled out in the Harrington living room. No one knows how long they've been silent. Steve is lying stretched out on the carpet. Eddie is lying on the couch. Jonathan is sitting in the matching chair. And Argyle is sat on the floor with his back against the two seater.

Thus far, Eddie has been very preoccupied looking at Steve. Thinking about how pretty he is. How floofy his hair is. How flawless his skin is. How he could make constellations out of the birthmarks that pepper his face and body. How soft his lips look, and how kissable. He's about to take his time looking at Steve's eyes, when he notices the faraway and sad look in them.

"Hey, Steve-o. What're you thinking 'bout?" Eddie asks, hating that Steve looks sad. He got such a beautiful smile, it's not fair that someone with such a beautiful smile has so many reasons to be sad.

"I miss hugs," Steve says. His filter completely disappears when he smokes. "Robin doesn't like hugs so I can't ask her. And don't get me wrong, sex is great and all, but sometimes I just wanna cuddle. But if you ask a girl over to cuddle she thinks something's wrong with you, and gets all mad and shit. Or she thinks something's wrong with her and she freaks out. But hugs are great. And cuddling is great. And I miss it." After his little ramble he lets out a tired sigh, like it's been weighing on him awhile.

It damn near breaks Eddie's heart. To hear that Steve is so fucking desperate for just a hug. Poor, beautiful Steve.

"Aww! Bro-chacho, get your cute butt over here! I'll cuddle you!" Argyle says and opens his arms wide.

Steve gets this dopey smile on his face and scoots over to Argyle. He settles happily between other guys raised knees, back to chest, and Argyle wraps his arms around Steve. Once they settle he gives Steve a squeeze, and Steve relaxes further into the embrace.

Meanwhile... Eddie is fucking fuming! That was an opening?! He didn't know it was an opening! Otherwise he would've taken it! Before the dumb hippie could have!

Ok, that's not fair. Argyle is cool. And his supply is fan-fucking-tastic, and seemingly never ending.

But also how dare he call Steve's ass "a cute butt"?!

First of all, it's a work of god! Or maybe the devil, 'cause it sure inspires a lot of sin. Second of all, it's an ass, not a butt. It may be pedantic, but there is a difference. Third... He might not have a third... But that should be his fucking hug!

That ass is his!

He just hasn't told anyone yet.

But it's like an unspoken claim!

Not that a person can claim another person.

When you think about it it's so fucking weird that people say they own their dog or cat. That's just a little dude that's chilling rent-free. But no one owns the little dude.

Eddie's thoughts drift off. Steve and Argyle stay cuddled up the rest of the night. Whenever Eddie glances over he's back to fuming, but he distracts himself easily enough.

"Wait..." Jonathan pipes up. "Girls get mad at you when you don't have sex with them?" he asks, looking like the poster child for high and confused.

Eddie has no idea what he's talking about. But apparently the others follow.

"Yeah," Steve says with a shrug. And Eddie has completely forgotten the conversation from 20 minutes ago, but he can still relate; he's very mad that he's not having sex with Steve right now.

"Girls like sex too, dude," Argyle says sagely. But Jonathan just keeps looking confused.

__________________________________________

After that night Argyle beelines for Steve any time they all meet up, to give him a big hug. The first time it happens the kids expect Steve to push him off or something. But Steve just gets this huge smile that takes over his entire face and hugs Argyle back.

Eddie is losing his god-damned-mind about it!

Nancy and Robin doesn't know what happened at "boys night" (all four boys object to them calling it that), but they're taking bets who's gonna break first, Eddie or Jonathan.

Robin wins.

Eddie never was any good at keeping his mouth shut.

(I didn't even read through this, hope it's decent, and that there aren't too many spelling mistakes)

[vipvesper]

all is fair in love and war

pairing: octavian x child of bacchus!reader

warnings: octavian 😞, pining, minor cursing, spoilers for son of neptune!!

word count: 1.3k+

“i wish reyna would let me strangle you.”

Octavian? You hate him for the most part. You hate the storm swirling above the Temple of Jupiter that crackles with electricity as another teddy bear augury is completed. You hate the way his piercing blue eyes mock you from behind Reyna as you sit at a Centurion’s meeting. You hate his insane laughter that echoed in your ears 6 years ago when he mutilated your stuffed animal. You roll your eyes. Dakota’s red-ringed lips lazily speak orders to the Fifth Cohort, but nobody’s listening. We’re gonna soften the defenses. Again. Great. As if the looks on our faces afer stepping away from the Officer’s conference wasn’t bad enough, Dakota’s speech isn’t helping. He squeezes a packet of Kool-Aid.

“Listen, guys. This is gonna be a good one, I can feel it!” You take charge, opting to do the talking. “Hazel and Frank, I know you guys are still on the new side, but I think you can do this. First row, create a shield wall with Dakota as you advance to soften the blow. Second row from Cecil over, hide behind the shields to fight off any advancing defenses. The other twelve, try to sneak around the flanks and find a way in.” A smile pulls at your lips, moving your brother aside. “Let’s move out, troops! Victory for the Fifth!”

The child army echoes your cheer as your ranks break. A looming wall stands in front of you, cohorts three and four standing guard behind. How do we see past the wall? When it’s so tall? “I suppose we’re acting as bait again,” you murmur to Dakota.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Hannibal’s all ready?” You inquire, wanting to make sure your cohort gets the win they deserve. He nods, grabbing another juice out of his pocket.

The war games start, Reyna hovering overhead with Scipio. A circle of eagles fly in tandem with her, awaiting injury. You tag along with the twelve soldiers, attempting to find a crack in the wall, an unguarded plate. A tug pulls in your stomach, long green vines pushing out of the ground of the Field of Mars. Branches split off to grab your cohort, gently placing my teammates over the wall. It’s a struggle to keep Hazel and Frank quiet as they’re plopped right into enemy territory. The sounds of swords clashing rings out before you can even climb up yourself.

As you drop down, armor clinking together, the vines recede to leave a small scar in the earth. Wide blue eyes immediately stare back at you, coupled with the golden glint of a spatha. Great. Octavian’s here. Can’t give him a chance to think, you remind yourself. Your gladius makes a nice noise as you remove it from its sheath, pressing the flat against his smaller weapon. Before long, he’s disarmed. Unfortunately for you, he immediately starts to squawk, alerting any soldiers who might’ve still been preoccupied by their Mythomagic tournament.

“Backup! I need backup!” The lanky blonde yells, fumbling for his secondary weapon. A stray arrow whizzes past your ear as you lunge, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Fifth cohort, for the colors!” Jonathan and Frank rush for their emblem, narrowly dodging flying furniture. Hazel’s backed into a corner by a First cohort member, her golden eyes filled with determination.

But, Tyche really isn’t on your side, is she?

A last minute elephant mishap knocks your troops away from the battlefield, wiping the scoreboard clean. Eagles swoop down to snatch up a good portion of the teenage militia.

You sit on a stone wall overlooking the city of New Rome, holding an icepack to your cheek. Guess Octavian had gotten you after all. A sigh rolls past your lips. The win was so close, it was right there. Bandages wrap around any minor cuts you may have acquired during the game. The all-too familiar crinkle of a Kool-Aid pouch makes you assume that Dakota had finally found you.

A rather soft object hits the back of your head.

It’s a freaking Kool-Aid packet. Grape flavored, at that.

“Wouldn’t Reyna like to know that her favorite Centurion is throwing a fit over a loss? What a sore loser,” a sarcastic voice jests. You grit your teeth, turning to face Octavian.

Curse him and his skinny body, his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes, his unblemished skin—

Woah.

Where did that come from?

“I’m looking for ways to better myself for my cohort. Not like you’d know anything about self-reflection,” You scoff. Much to your chagrin, the augur sits beside you. Phoebus Apollo rides close to the horizon, signaling the nearing arrival of dinnertime. “Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” he smirks. He looks quite stupid with those stuffed animals hanging from his belt, in your opinion. Seven stripes burn on his forearm under the symbol of an eagle, much like your own. His loose white toga hangs off his clothed shoulders. The sun radiates onto his pale skin, bathing him in a warm glow. Cocky bastard. He knows he’s pretty. “Do you have a staring problem?”

You snap back to reality real quick.

“No, I don’t.” You turn your head away, embarrassed. You weren’t staring, were you? Small vines decorated by bundles of purple grapes pop up around you, encircling the area. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or would you just like to gloat.”

Octavian reclines, pressing his hands on the green grass behind him. He picks a grape, tossing it at your temple. “I’m simply encouraging your improvement,” he teases.

“I wish Reyna would let me strangle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

As you look out at the sunset, you don’t notice his eyes on you. You don’t notice the way his gaze trails over the bridge of your nose and your freckles and the rosy hue covering your cheeks like he’s committing the way you look at dusk to memory.

“Pretty night, huh?”

That’s unusual. Octavian making small talk?

“Yeah, it is.”

“You weren’t too bad today,” he mutters, very clearly avoiding his gaze. It’s very much unlike him to butter you up, even if he wants something.

“Thanks?” you tilt your head, confused by his praise. Should you be offended?

The two of you look out at the little Tiber rolling over the hills, basking in the golden hue painting the heavens. A long, cold hand drapes over yours eventually, gently squeezing. You jolt away, face pink as the clouds in the sky.

“The Pluto?!”

“Shut up.” He shoves something in your lap, and for a second you think it’s a grenade of Greek fire, set to explode as soon as he’s out of range. Tyche must feel sorry for her absence earlier.

A soft green material, as green as the grass, sits against your thighs, a happy smile staring up at you. It can’t be. A fuzzy memory returns to you, a feeling of nostalgia washing over you. A frog plush from long ago. Stitches a bit darker than the original fuzzy fabric reach from seam to seam, head to toe.

“What—?”

“Seriously, shut up. I found it tucked away, thought you’d like to see it again before it gets sacrificed to the gods again.”

You scoop up the piece of your childhood in your free hand, eyes wide as the cosmos. Before that little smirk on Octavian’s face can grow any further, a cold, hard object smacks him right across the face, sending him reeling.

“What the—?!”

“You little dick,” you huff, placing the icepack on the ground. “Thanks, I guess.”

He smiles—a real smile, however small—as he stares into your eyes. “You’re very welcome, love.” His alabaster face is painted red.

You shake your head, amused. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

Like a scene from a fairytale, his hand snakes its way onto your waist, the proximity only forcing more of your father’s fruit out of the ground.

“Like I’d listen to you,” he chides.

You lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“I really am irresistible.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining the moment.”

[thethirdromana]

Subscribing to Letters Regarding Jeeves and the Woman in White Weekly has left me preoccupied with the role of servants. So here's a bit of a ramble on servants - and particularly Dracula's servants, or lack thereof.

Jonathan comes from a time when being middle-class means having at least one live-in servant. But the number of servants per head of population in the UK was falling - from 1.38m in 1891 (4% of the population) to 1.27m in 1911 (2.8% of the population). That's why, in Jonathan's time, employing one servant means entry to the middle classes, but 30ish years later, the fabulously wealthy Bertie Wooster also has... one servant.

(To disgress: admittedly Jeeves is likely to be a lot more expensive to employ than the entry-level maid-of-all-work that a middle-class household would have, and there's also no indication that Wooster couldn't afford more servants, but I think it's still significant that he's happy with just the one. Wooster is gently snobbish about being appropriately dressed and going to the right restaurants and so on, but he doesn't see only having one servant as a problem.)

Dracula is a medieval nobleman. I don't know much about Transylvanian history but I would expect that in life, his castle would have been swarming with servants, both as a necessity (it takes a lot to keep a castle warm and clean, and its inhabitants fed), as a duty (to employ people from the surrounding area) and as a status symbol. And I would expect much the same to be true of a living nobleman on his country estate in 1890s Transylvania as well.

So why doesn't Dracula have any servants?

Well, obviously from a storytelling perspective, it's fucking creepy. I think the impact is lessened from a 21st century perspective because "there are no servants" is the default state for most of us, but this is the 1890s equivalent of being in a city and suddenly all the street noise goes silent. And I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place goes hard in any century. From Bram Stoker's perspective, I don't think this needs more justification and if I wasn't analysing every aspect of this book in the minutest detail I don't think I would give it any further thought.

The other obvious answer is that, being dead, Dracula doesn't need any servants. But I don't think that works. He may not need to eat or stay warm and presumably he doesn't produce any waste, but he still wears clothes that need washing and has horses that need to be cared for. Any old building needs an exhausting amount of maintenance just to keep it from crumbling. There's a lot of work that needs doing and I think we can assume that Dracula doesn't want to be doing it himself.

Perhaps he can't have servants. If serving at the castle means death (which presumably it does) then maybe the locals just refuse. And while Dracula has ways to pressure people, I can imagine that he would see that as beneath him just for the sake of having someone to wash his shirts. Maybe as much of that work as possible is done outside the castle, free of charge, by the terrified locals.

So then I find myself wondering, what is the state of the castle usually? Has Dracula spring-cleaned for his visitor? Has he brought the bed-hangings and linen out of ancient storage chests, replacing the moth-eaten ones that usually sit there, decaying? Has he dusted? There is an enormous amount of work involved just in getting the castle to the standard that Jonathan sees. Is there magic involved? Does Dracula usually live there like Sleeping Beauty with the castle crumbling around him? Or is the sumptuous luxury that Jonathan sees just an illusion?

[lune-moon-nuit]

What if Will has a coming out scene to Lucas, Dustin and Mike? I feel like that would interesting. I feel like Lucas and Dustin could possible have already guessed that Will was gay or like in retrospect it fits. Mike would obviously be shocked. He definitely doesn’t think Will is gay. I don’t think he’d have any reason to. I think Mike was so preoccupied with his own sexuality and keeping it hidden that he just didn’t think anybody could be like him let alone the one person he likes. So busy keeping anything from getting too romantic on his side when it came to interacting with Will that he didn’t notice all the hints that Will might’ve been throwing his way. Maybe Will coming out could possible inch Mike a little closer for his own coming out. Maybe he comes out to Will. Then with them both out and going on this supernatural plot uncovering adventure together we could see them leaning more comfortably into the romantic side of things. Where they aren’t shying away from those feelings that have been brewing inside.

I'm not entirely sure that Dustin and Lucas have figured it out. Aside from the bullying by Lonnie and the school bullies, there’s nothing that objectively ties Will to homosexuality. He doesn’t seem interested in girls and has never dated one, but honestly, at 12-15 years old, that’s the case for the majority of boys his age. The only reason Will is perceived as gay in the eyes of Lonnie and the bullies is because he’s a sensitive child. And that’s literally just prejudice based on gender stereotypes—because, to them, being sensitive and showing emotions equals weakness, which equals being like a woman, and therefore, if you’re a boy and you’re sensitive, you must be gay.

As Will has grown up, he hasn’t exhibited anything beyond that regarding his sexual attraction—whether it be through his clothing style, the way he speaks, or his interests. When you look at Will from an objective standpoint, without being blinded by misogynistic and homophobic biases, he’s just an introverted and artistic boy who has been drawing since childhood and later took up painting. And the only reason we perceive his homosexuality is through his love for Mike—because we see things from his point of view.

Aside from Jonathan, who directly witnessed Will and Mike’s dynamic multiple times in Season 4 (which is why the van scene was literally confirmation for him of everything he had observed since Mike arrived in California in Episode 2), no one has actually seen Will exhibit openly "gay" behavior or display obvious romantic feelings for Mike—including Dustin and Lucas. So, I really don’t think they’ve figured it out—or if they do, it will likely happen in Season 5, as Mike and Will will find it increasingly difficult to hide their feelings for each other when they’re in the same room. That would certainly make for a very interesting scene, but I honestly have no idea how to imagine it in a realistic way.

Because, even though they’ve been outcasts their whole lives—first as children and now as teenagers—it doesn’t change the fact that they grew up in a society that instilled heteronormativity in them. Take Lucas, for example—he immediately assumed Mike had a crush on El in Season 1. So, even when you're the most open-minded person in the world, you can still have automatic thoughts that need to be deconstructed. And maybe, if Will comes out, their initial reaction could be awkward—unintentionally—before they correct themselves afterward? It’s really hard to say, and even harder to put ourselves in the shoes of teenagers who have spent their entire lives in a society that has depicted homosexuality not only as a sin and a vice but also quite literally as a sign of death and disease during the AIDS crisis.

I have no doubt that they love Will and will support him, but let’s not forget that Steve’s reaction to Robin was the exception to the rule at that time—it’s not that easy, even with people as safe as Dustin and Lucas. As for Mike, I believe he feels it unconsciously but refuses to acknowledge it—just as he refuses to acknowledge his own feelings. Because… ever since Season 2, when they’re together and having their moments—even in Season 4, like the two bedroom scenes—the chemistry and connection are so palpable that you know, you just know that the other person knows. I mean, anyone who has shared a deep emotional connection accompanied by romantic feelings or mutual sexual tension with someone will understand what I mean.

Mike and Will are not stupid—they feel their connection, but because the external stakes are too high, combined with their inability to communicate, they don’t understand each other enough to believe that their feelings are mutual. I’m not sure if I’m being clear… For example, I think Mike did understand—or at least suspected—that Will was talking about him in the van scene. But when Will insisted that Mike declare his love for El to save her, specifically mentioning "you are the heart," Mike convinced himself: "Oh, so he really was talking about El… so those weren’t Will’s own feelings in the van. Okay." And misunderstandings like this have defined their relationship since Season 3, but especially throughout Season 4.

I also believe that, deep down, Mike senses that his feelings for Will are reciprocated—but admitting that would mean also admitting his own feelings, which would, in turn, bring everything else into play: being a gay teenager in the 1980s, in a rural American town, in the middle of the AIDS crisis, with parents who voted for Reagan, a deeply conservative president. I’m not sure if they’ll have an actual coming out—maybe Mike could have a scene with Nancy that parallels Will and Jonathan—but what is certain is that Mike and Will will have that scene, the one where the truth finally comes out, and it will be the catharsis for all these years of repressed, hidden feelings that have caused so many misunderstandings between them.

Don't hesitate to share me your opinions, I would be curious in case I didn't analyzed well the characters

[stonathans-mystical-realm]

Keeping Steve safe is Jonathan's top priority

Jonathan also was scared running trying to survive and was still looking after Steve to protect him and keep him safe even while running. Jonathan warned Steve to jump over the trap and if he hadn’t, Steve would have gotten trapped and they could have done nothing to save him once the demogorgon reached him. Steve would have died if Jonathan hadn’t warned him and been more focused on Steve’s safety atm than his own. Its the point that thanks to Jonathan valuing Steve’s life more than his own, thats what saved Steve.

Its the fact that Jonathan is being so protective of Steve during all of this too. See it from his pov. He’d have to keep looking around to see where Steve is while this is all going on, make sure Steve is safe and think to save him from incoming danger [like the demogorgon, like the trap], ext… Jonathan had himself and Nancy to worry about and had to deal with the current battle with the demogorgon, but his main concern was ‘Is Steve safe?’ I got to warn him and save him and make sure he stays safe.

Just think that instead of Jonathan running, after he rescued Nancy, Jonathan didn’t. He checked around to make sure Steve got out safely Jonathan could have been killed for that hesitation, but it didn’t matter. He stopped to think and check if Steve got out ok and when he saw Steve was frozen in fear, he saved him and made sure he got out safely.

And then the trap, he thought oh no Steves gonna step on that, get trapped, and then get killed by the demogorgon, and tells Steve when to jump. Anyone else would be preoccupied with keeping themselves safe, but Jonathan isn’t thinking of himself here like other people would, he keeps worrying about Steve more and thinking of him the whole time and ways to keep Steve safe. That���s the most important thing to Jonathan atm.

[general-kenobis]

"Bad Reputation" - Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: You wanted to pretend you were going out with someone as the guy from school insists on hooking up with you. Among the people at a party, you choose Steve Harrington, who has a bad reputation.

Warning: Cursing, fluffiness, alcohol

Word count: 3.1k

Someone from school was throwing a party you weren't supposed to be at, but you went to anyway. Robin made you go with her so you would do something on the weekend.

And then she dragged the whole gang with her, including the kids - the kids were actually 18 now.

Among too many people, you were trying to squeeze between them so you didn't bump into Riley, because he was insisting too much on hooking up with you for weeks.

You were thinking about hitting on someone just so you could get rid of him, but the only guys available, which you would hook up, included Eddie, who was getting high with his friends.

Jonathan, but he was too preoccupied with Nancy, and... Steve Harrington. You didn't know him well enough, and he was really involved in just talking with Dustin and Mike and some other guys, drinking some beer.

The fact he wasn't hooking up with any girl was weird, but understandable.

It's not like he was still that guy who would make a line so girls with kiss him. His bad reputation ended up making him become different than that guy.

You thought to yourself, that maybe if you could ask him a favor, you could make Riley give up on you.

Not that it was the greatest idea, but Eddie wasn't actually really into hooking up at parties and you were somewhat friends.

You walked towards the boys and Dustin and Mike ceased the conversation just to have a look at you. Henderson gave you a smirk and you thought it was cute.

You noticed Steve made the same course as them and stared at you. Well, you made it halfway, might as well just finish it.

"You're Steve Harrington, right?", you asked as he nodded, puffing his chest. He was "retired" from being a jerk, and now the girls would usually hit on him.

"Yeah, that me", he said as he gave a side smile to the other boys. Both of them gave him a grimace look, leaving you both alone. "And who are you?".

"I'm (Y/N). Can you do me a favor?", you were looking around you as you tried to find Riley. Harrington wasn't really getting your point, but nodded anyway.

"I'm trying to get rid of a guy, can you pretend we're going out?". You spoke close to his ear as the music was too loud.

"Uh, sure. But you know I have a bad reputation, right?", he questioned, like it's a warning. You honestly don't care at all, because you don't judge people either way.

"I don't mind, really. And I don't see it that way". You smile at him, you really didn't.

"You're not pranking me, are you?". He sounds really suspicious and it almost makes you gasp.

"Why would I do that?", you seemed kind of offended, he was playing defensive. "Look, are you gonna help me or not?".

Steve looked like he was having a meltdown, he took too long to think and you were already giving up your decision. Maybe it would've been better to ask Eddie, he's always doing crazy shit anyway.

"Fine", he gave in. "And what's in for me?", Steve asked and you grinned at him, sipping on your beer. "You know what? I've got something better. I pretend to be your hook up, and you help me get my good reputation back".

You almost snorted, why would he, of all the things he could ask for, want to have a reputation after all?

Although you knew he was always a jerk to girls, he would always be the least of the romantic, always getting in trouble for going out with committed girls as well.

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all, he was nice, you've heard. Robin was his closest friend and she sure would never lie about him.

You found Riley walking around with a friend and immediately crashed your lips against Steve's. He wasn't really waiting for that so it was a sloppy kiss at first, just pecking.

He wrapped your waist with one of his arms while holding the beer with the other. He tasted like cinnamon as he was chewing a gum and it made you melt down under his kiss.

You opened one of your eyes slightly as you watched Riley leave. You broke the kiss and looked and Steve, who was still shocked by your sudden approach.

"Wow, could've warned me first", he said as he rubbed one hand against his soft hair and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were expecting it", you used your thumb to clean up your smudgy lipstick on his lip.

"Not that fast, honestly", he gives you a nervous grin. "Who is the guy, by the way?". Harrington asked as he followed you to the kitchen. You were looking for something stronger. You needed something to get through the night.

"Riley Edwards he's on the band group. Robin probably knows him". You found a bottle of Gin and decided to make yourself a Gin Tonic.

Steve was just behind you as you were making the drink. You probably didn't know what to do next, you just know you're supposed to be kissing when the guy is around.

But other than that, what are you going to do when he's not around? Maybe kiss him again properly would be nice.

"I already said no to him. But he's too persevering", you finished your drink and almost chugged it entirely.

Steve watched you with his brows furrowed. "Jesus, easy with that".

"You're not playing boyfriend here", you provoked.

You laughed at his sudden worriness and offered him the cup. He grabbed it and sort of savored it first before drinking it. His face went bloody red and he almost choked.

"Fuck, this is strong as hell, (Y/N)", you were still chuckling watching him scrunching his nose.

"Yeah well, don't act like a baby girl", you drank the entire cup and decided to make another one, while he rolled his eyes to your response.

"We said we'll help each other out, right. How am I going to pretend to be your hook up if you're hammered?", Steve had a point though.

And then you decided you would slow down on the alcohol. Maybe later probably. You found a tequila bottle and placed it on the sink as you looked for shot glasses.

He looked at you and shook his head. "Nope. No, no, no. I am not drinking that. Forget it".

You gave him a side smile, Steve still held a grumpy face because that wasn't what he signed up for.

You filled the glasses and went looking for some lime, only to find all of them were already in the trash.

Harrington was still in disbelief. "Fuck, I don't drink that without a lime".

"Oh my gosh, how do you want a reputation if you can't even fucking drink a tequila shot?".

"Well, I don't drink tequila shots, for starters", he retorted.

"If you do it, I'll flash you", you saw his eyes brighten up and he downed it all. He hissed at the taste and chugged on his beer.

You did you shot and closed your eyes. This was probably the strongest tequila you've ever had in your life. You leaned against the sink and took a deep breath.

"Now flash me", Harrington sat on the table, making a "come here" gesture and you burst out into laugh.

"Oh, Steve. I was just kidding", you squeezed his cheek and he frowned. It made you laugh harder.

"You manipulated me!", he shook his head as he watched you still laughing at him.

"Maybe I'll do it, who knows?", you respond.

You opened the fridge looking for a beer, grabbing one bottle and leaving to the backyard holding Steve's hand. He was on your tail still trying to get rid of that horrible taste.

Madonna was blasting outside and you saw Robin dancing with a girl, you couldn't but hold a smile at her.

She was having so much fun and she deserved to. Steve grabbed you by your waist while dancing and you thought it wouldn't be a terrible idea to dance with.

The alcohol started to make its way through your system and you knew it will soon hit your head. But you didn't care at that moment, because you wanted to have fun as well.

He was intently resting his face against your shoulder and you laughed at the way he was playing an affair so perfectly. Or maybe he was already too drunk too.

You spinned around to face him and he definitely had a drunk smile on his face. His hair was kinda messy and he smelled like Calvin Klein and tequila.

"How am I doing?", he asked as he still danced, twirling you around him and you chuckled.

"Better than I expected", you said. "How are you not hitting on girls in this place?".

He had a different look in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. Steve sipped the rest of his beer and licked his lips. Suddenly you felt very attracted to him.

"I don't care about that anymore. I just want people to realize I'm different now".

"And yet you still want to rebuild your reputation", you retorted him and he leaned against the wall. One of his knees bent over as he rested his foot there.

"I don't wanna be the bad guy anymore", he seemed upset. Things with Nancy didn't go well either, that was when he realized he needed a change.

"You know what I think?", you asked as you got closer to him. He raised his eyebrows waiting for your answer. "I think you look very pretty right now".

You grabbed him by his colar and he stiffened against your touch. "And you don't seem to be a bad guy at all. But I'll help you fix it". As you finished your line he leaned on to kiss you.

It was an intentional kiss with a mixture of booze and desire. He was obviously very attracted to you as well and made it clear as his tongue touched yours.

He grabbed your hip firmly with one free hand and deepened the kiss, tasting every bit of you. You gritted his tongue between your teeth and heard him groan, amused.

Harrington twisted you around and pulled you against the wall, almost merging into your body as he started to kiss you faster. You were lightheaded over the alcohol and the kiss, nibbling on his lower lip and he rubbed his finger against your skin.

It didn't last too long as you heard someone behind you. "Well, holy fucking shit", the voice said. You and Steve both opened your eyes at the same time, he even loosened his touch against you.

Billy Hargrove stood behind you and laughed along with his friends from the basketball team. "If it isn't King Steve fucking Harrington working his way up to someone's pants".

His words were nasty and you felt Steve growing mad in front of you. He turned his torso around and faced Billy, who was holding a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Just get lost, Hargrove", he said, feeling a little groggy from the tequila and the other one laughed. Everyone around stopped their dancing to stare at them.

"No, you know my favorite hobby is to never leave you alone", Billy stated, sipping on his beer.

You couldn't be more stressed over this, you just wanted to have a good time. You should've known he was going to make an entrance and make someone's life a living hell, and it always had to be Steve.

"Whatever man, I'm not playing your game", Harrington said and faced you. He tried to ignore Billy but the guy just wouldn't stop being an asshole. "I'm sorry you have to go through this".

His words were so soft and warm and it made you feel angry by the way Hargrove just makes someone uncomfortable and it wasn't right. It was just so messed up.

"Why don't you go find someone's pants yourself, hm? You think you're so different from everyone else but you're just another asshole", you pointed at him and he furrowed his brows, still chewing a gum.

"Steve Harrington is a great guy. He's mature enough now to realize he was a jerk and he's not like that anymore. Now, if you'll excuse us, you're disturbing my moment with him, at least he's getting in someone's pants", you finished as you pulled Steve close to you.

On purpose, of course, you made him grab your ass as you gave him a feral kiss and he responded to it the same way as you. Harrington felt his head pound over the stress and the way you pulled him against you.

You heard when people around you booed Billy and cheered, throwing plastic cups over him and the basketball team. You waited until he left to break the kiss, but Steve kept on going, squeezing your ass and moving his tongue too fast.

A moment after that and he had to pull some air into his lungs, laughing. "Shit, you just- that was so wild". He pecked your lips, licking them.

"Think you still want a reputation?".

"Fuck no, doesn't matter if it worked or not", he gave you an honest smile, holding your waist too close to him. You felt that part of your skin become numb.

"That's good for you. You don't need to be so dependen-", he cut you off as he cupped your face and gave you another kiss.

Steve took his time to taste you with a slow kiss, holding you against his firm hands, savoring your taste. You didn't have time to react as he grabbed your hands and dragged you inside the house, going upstairs.

Obviously you knew what was going to happen, and unlike you thought, you were hoping for it. Not because it was Steve, but because the way he's been treating you the whole night.

He didn't stop between groups to show off, he didn't brag about winning another night.

He made a mental note to himself he wouldn't fuck anyone at the party, but the way you were looking at him and the way you reacted to his touch gave him fuel to his body. Maybe it was also because of the alcohol.

He never liked to mix drinks because of the way he tends to act around people, like it would be different this time. He found a spare guest room and closed the door with a kick, hovering over you in the bed.

Harrington hit his knee on the corner of the bed and yelped, making you laugh. "Fuck. Shit".

"Such a smooth way to get into someone's pants", you say as you chuckle, looking at the stare he gave you.

"Shut up or I'll rip your clothes off", he warned before leaning over you, spreading wet kisses on your skin.

"Yes, please", you whine. Steve feels his body shiver by the way you say it and sucked on your neck. If it gets a hickey or not, you will not care about it on the next day.

He took a long time on the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume and the smell of your skin. His hands were properly rubbing your inner thighs and your core squeezed.

His bulge started to grow and he felt an intense urge of pounding on you all night. But something inside his guts tells him otherwise and he breaks the contact, and you flinch.

"Everything okay?", you squeeze his wrist lightly and he rubs his hand against his silky hair. He hums before sighing heavily.

"Yeah, fuck. Sorry. Shit", you don't understand squat he's complaining about. His dick is pressed against his jeans, almost crying for help.

"Steve?", you coax. He looks at you like he's having trouble fixing his thoughts.

"I don't wanna be this guy. Like, this", he mentions with his index fingers, pointing at him and the bedroom. "God, I wanna make things right. I wanna have sex, not fuck around".

Okay, he's drunk. But this talk is kind of nonsense to you.

"Is this because of what happened? Because I don't give a single fuck", you explain, watching him sit next to you. He shook his head.

"No, not at all. I don't wanna fast forward moments like that, around too many people. Yeah I think it's hot as fuck and I'll probably cum in like three minutes, which is exactly my point here. I wanna appreciate things", he made a speech you were not in the mood to hear because you wanted to suck on him so bad.

But then you realized what he meant. It's supposed to be a fuck and nothing else, and that wasn't what you really wanted. You wanted a relationship, a commitment.

"Maybe this is a drunk talk but I've been feeling like that for a while. And on that note I realized you didn't come after me because it was me, because obviously you would find someone better than me. Eddie would be a nice option", he grasped one hand on your thigh, softly.

"But I look at you and I see you don't care about how people look. And I really dig that", Steve wouldn't shut up and you just wanted to kiss him. But if you laughed he would be offended, so you let him speak. "And now I feel such a douche, I look so needy when I'm drunk. Fuck me".

You laughed at the way he said it and he looked at you, chuckling.

"Steve, I get that. I get you. I don't like it either, but I just thought 'why not?'. And it's okay to not want that. I mean your crotch says otherwise, but I understand it", you joke about his bulge and he leans against the bed, hiding his face with one hand and holding his crotch with the other.

"Fuuuuck. Alright, show's over. I'm definitely going to need a thousand shots after that". Harrington got himself up and walked to the the room. "Care to join me?".

"Hm, I have a better idea", you grab his hand and pull him across the house, making your way outside.

"Where we going?".

"To my house. We're going to listen to some nice and less loud music, eat some snacks and then maybe have proper sex". You stop walking, only to look at him as you speak into his ear. "Without anyone else around".

His face brightens up and he pulls you closer before you can walk again. "You just made your way to my heart instead", he says giving you a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I wanna pick the songs", Steve stabilished while grabbing your hand, walking on the sidewalk by your side.

You didn't care you left the party with King Steve, per se. He was definitely getting under your pants, but with a meaning. You laughed at the way he said he wanted to pick the music, and then it came to your head that this is the result of a great idea you had, only because someone wouldn't stop being so annoying.

[summercourtship]

Hiii, I love your work!

Could I request something like prompt 96 (“You look a bit tied up, want me to come back later?”) and expanding on Jonathan being very excited about the reader being his patient at the asylum 😳

Thank you!  Okay, so what I imagine happened here was that Jonathan managed to get her committed to the asylum after the whole ‘helping Edward escape and keeping him in her apartment and also stealing medical records’. Does it make sense that she’d be committed? Not really, but this is also Gotham and he’s also very persuasive (see: Batman Begins). This backstory doesn’t matter but I like to have it. Tbh might have to expand this bc I’m obsessed with this (not me thinking about writing an AU of my own gd fic)

Warnings: dubcon, obvious power imbalance, restraints, possessive behavior, a solid mature rating. minimal proofreading.

stbotdi anniversary special

 Jonathan watched from outside of the cell, his face carefully composed and expressionless as he looked through the small window into the derelict room. Any passing nurse or orderly would think he was just observing the patient inside, doing his duty before deciding on her treatment. After all, her transition into the asylum had been shaky and he was her doctor. Not that any nurses or orderelies would be passing by her room, anyway.

Bracing himself, he entered the cell. 

At the slow metal creak of the door opening, her head lifted up off the bed, taking in his appearance for a second before her expression twisted into a snarl, her teeth bared. 

“Get me out of here.” She was carefully still now, though he knew her mind was almost entirely preoccupied with the restraints on her wrists and ankles keeping her virtually immobile. But she was being a good girl, staying still and trying to show that she could be trusted enough to be untied. He sighed her name, looking down towards the thin folder he had clasped in his arms which was labeled with her name and patient number.

“You committed some pretty heinous crimes-”

“Heinous, my ass.” She spat, dropping her head back on the flat mattress with a dull thud. “You know I don’t belong here, Jon-”

“Dr. Crane.” 

“Fuck you.” 

She’s lashing out like a fox with its foot caught in a trap. 

Jonathan blinked once at her, letting silence fall over the tiny cell again until the only sound was the slight hissing from the rusty pipes that ran along the ceiling. With his eyes, he traced the lines of the pipes around the room, his head tilted back so he wasn’t looking at her when he spoke. A perfected imitation of distraction, one that worked all too well on her. 

“You look a bit tied up right now, I’ll come back later-” He turned, lingering at the door handle and counting down the seconds until-

“Wait!” He looked back over her shoulder at her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of completely turning around. She was struggling against her restraints again. He preened at the fact that even though she hated him- but only in that moment, she’d come back around to her infatuation- she was desperate to keep him in the room with her. Afraid of being alone. “Can you-” She fell back against the bed, exhausted. The sedative they’d administered upon her arrival must still be in her system, though it was clearly working its way out if her earlier viciousness was anything to go by. “Can you at least untie me?”

She’d put an affectation over her voice, something she’d used a few times when they’d been intimate before. Pitiful, pouting, pleading. Jonathan weighed his choices carefully, torn between the trust he would gain by releasing her with the control he would maintain by keeping her tied up. 

But then again, he had her here indefinitely. He had plenty of time to try both options, and more. No one wanted to be the one to defend the girl who helped the Riddler escape. Not even the Batman was coming to save her from the shackles she’d forged herself. 

Deciding then and there, he spun around. 

Jonathan could practically feel her sigh of relief as he sat at the edge of her bed, placing her file on the floor next to it, even though she was pointedly not looking at him. He reached down to her leg, running his hand down her bare calf. He could feel her shiver beneath his touch, though she was barely acknowledging his presence. 

He fiddled with the ankle restraint, moving his eyes from the leather strap up her body. She was staring at him now, her chest rising and falling steadily like she was carefully regulating her breath. Deftly, he undid the restraint before he could change his mind. But instead of letting her leg go, he kept it in his hand. He brought her ankle to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the tender skin before finally placing it onto the bed. 

Turning his attention to the other restraint, he repeated the process. Caressing her leg, undoing her binding, bending to place a kiss on her skin. She watched, the entire time, lips parted. 

He shifted, moving so he lay halfway on top of her, slotting one of his legs between hers.

“What about my arms?” She said, once his face was close enough to hers that she could get away with whispering.   

“I think I’ll leave them bound.” Jonathan whispered back, watching as her face turned from confusion to dread. “I thought about this months ago, before I even took you home that first time. Locking you away, where only I could get to you.” He brushed a stray lock of her hair away from her sweaty face, her eyes bewildered as she looked up at him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, to the tip of her nose, to the corner of her lips. 

His hand moved down her body, briefly lingering on her breast before venturing to the hem of the hospital gown they had her wearing. He much preferred the gown on her than Arkham’s typical uniform, especially since it made it so easy to slip his hand underneath and find her clothed cunt, already damp from her arousal. 

Her legs, no longer bound, fell apart at his touch. Jonathan pushed the fabric of her underwear aside, exposing her wet folds to his touch. She gasped, a loud inhale, when he finally ran his fingers over her with no barriers to soften his touch. 

“Jon-” She stopped speaking at the sharp look he gave her, quickly correcting herself. “Dr. Crane.” 

He wondered if she could feel his hard length pressing against her thigh, if she could feel the way it twitched when she called him by his earned title. 

“Fuck me, please.”

Oh, he was glad to oblige her request. 

And he was even more glad that she had been put at the end of a seldom-used hallway in the asylum, so that when he fucked her so that the bed creaked against the screws it was secured to the floor with, that when her gasps became shouts, that when his possessive whispers turned into low growls, no one would be around to hear it. 

[threadpull]

@fartemis-crock / continued from here

A matchbook. A simple thing. Except, what he sees is something that used to torture him. What flashes through his mind upon the sight is the memory of being pinned down to the ground. Ted Bones above him, grinning sadistically, laughing. He would spark them, light them with a flash, and drop them onto Jonathan. The Jonathan that couldn't fight back. The frozen boy, who was too scared to do anything but tense up and brace himself for whatever came his way.

He barely hears her. Something, someone is there - he knows this much, but he's too preoccupied to fully give her his attention. And he's hiding. He can't be seen like this. At first, he curls up even more, reminiscent of a dead spider with its bent limbs. It's only at the soft touch that he looks, sees her through the cracks between his fingers, and he can't tell how he feels. There's some relief. He trusts her. But there's shame, a desire to remain unseen by her while in this condition. Pathetic. He feels pathetic.

But he allows her to pry at him. Pull. Encircle him in her arms. For a moment, he doesn't remember what he's supposed to do. But that passes, and his own arms return the hug. Gently at first. Harder when he starts to realize: this is what he always wants, desires. Secretly. Jonathan feels so alone. These are his loneliest moments. His wish is being granted. So he is the one pulling now. Digging his long nose into the crook of her neck. The crying, which had mostly been soft before, turns into an ugly weeping.

It takes time for him to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles into her. He sniffs. Jonathan doesn't want to let her go. Alas, he has to pull back, wipe his tears. A hand slides into his pocket and retrieves a cloth. It's for his glasses, but he uses it to mop his face and nose.

"I just..." I just what? He considers what to say next. He glances away, eyes searching the floor until they land on the matchbook. Stupid thing. "This happens."

Pathetic explanation for a pathetic man in a pathetic situation.

"There... There are some things. Some things that..." His eyes flicker to her. Then they're away again. He can't maintain eye contact. "I react very negatively to."

Triggers. He doesn't want to say that, though. Jonathan doesn't like to think of himself as someone with those. Ruled by fear? He is supposed to be the master of it.

"I'll be fine. It happens."

[lovelyatomicpeace]

Guiding Light

Plot: Steve suddenly lost his father and doesn't know what to do, but luckily y/n is there for him.

Warnings: Sadness, crying, comfort, flashback

A little ff that I created from an idea that came to mind. Enjoy ❤️

As the sun began its slow descent behind the treetops of Hawkins, the air filled with the cool bite of autumn, Y/n ran down the familiar road toward Steve's house. His heart was pounding, not just from sprinting, but from the weight of urgency and grief. The news of her father's sudden death had reached her painfully, like broken glass on a marble floor with which she felt all too intimate.

Steve and his father had never had such a close bond. Their conversations were usually abrupt, punctuated by misunderstandings and the silent tension of unfulfilled expectations. Y/n had watched from afar, every argument and every harsh word exchanged between them etched pain in her heart. She knew Steve needed her now more than ever. As she reached the front steps of Steve's house, she hesitated for a fleeting moment. She could hear the sound of muffled voices inside: friends and family gathered, each carrying the weight of their grief. But that was the last thing he thought about as he stretched toward the doorbell. She was not there for pleasantries; she was there to be his anchor. The door opened and there appeared Steve, disheveled and pale, his brown eyes wide and glassy.

Before she could even formulate a greeting, he collapsed in her arms, the dam breaking as he sobbed into her shoulder. It was the kind of heartbreak that echoed in the pit of her stomach; she held him tighter, feeling his tears against her neck, the tremors of loss shaking them both.

"I can't..." he gasped between breaths.

Y/N tightened his grip, cradling him as he cried. "It's okay, Steve. I'm here," he whispered, in a calm voice as if he could channel his pain through words.

The usually cavernous house was now full of people: friends and familiar faces were scattered, hushed whispers mingled with the subdued background of soft music coming from the living room. Lucas sat with Max, their usual quarrels absent. Dustin was solemn, preoccupied with scraping a nonexistent splinter in the sofa. Robin and Nancy clutched each other, offering silent support, while Jonathan and Will exchanged glances that said much about the pain they shared. Mike sat off to the side, fingers intertwined with El's, both looking lost. As the commotion hummed slightly behind her, Y/N guided Steve into the living room, away from prying eyes. The light filtering through the drawn curtains cast shadows but also warmth; it felt like a cocoon, a safe space in which to share his vulnerabilities. Gently, she led him to the couch, where they sank together, the outside world temporarily forgotten: one of his knees resting on the floor as he bent over her. She ran her fingers through his hair, reassuring him, rooting him on.

"I couldn't even say goodbye to him," Steve said in a choked voice, wiping away tears with the back of his hand. "We had to make things right-it was my last chance, and I blew it."

"You didn't ruin anything, Steve," Y/N reassured him, in a firm voice. "You loved him, even with all the hard things. That's all that matters now."

"Yes, but it wasn't enough," he murmured, lowering his gaze to the floor. "He never understood me. My whole life has been a struggle for his approval that I never got."

"Sometimes people are just ... complicated. Your relationship was not easy, but you still meant a lot to him. You were his son," Y/N replied softly. "You showed him love in the ways you could."

"Why did he have to be such a jerk to me?" he croaked, wiping tears from her face with the back of her hand. "He was so consumed with his life that he never stopped to listen ... to understand anything about it." Y/n nodded, her heart aching. She had witnessed Steve's struggles, his attempts to gain acceptance and recognition from a father who had inadvertently rejected him. The loss of a parent was complex enough, but when mixed with unresolved feelings, it turned into something even more bitter.

Steve stood in front of her, lost, remembering his last argument with his dad:

It was one of those stormy afternoons when the thunder rumbling overhead echoed the tensions brewing in the Harrington mansion. A heavy downpour painted its chaos against the large windows, mirroring the struggle that was brewing between Steve and his father. The opulent surroundings of the estate looked like a gilded prison. Steve stood defiantly in the spacious living room, his muscles tense with anger.

"Dad, I'm not going to trade school! You can't make me!" shouted Steve, the resolve in his voice trembling to the edge of desperation.

His father, Robert, sat behind a polished mahogany desk, his fingers intertwined under his chin. The man was the epitome of success, a tycoon respected and feared in equal measure. "I can and I will, Steven. You don't even want to follow in my footsteps. You want to waste your life chasing ... what? You want still to work for a stupid video store? You're not cut out for that."

"I'm not cut out for it either!" spat Steve, gesturing to the room full of memorabilia, awards and an expectation he couldn't stand. "I hate your idea of success. You want me to be your perfect little clone, and I won't do it! I refuse to be part of your empire!"

Robert's eyes squinted, his voice deceptively calm. "There are choices in life that shape your future, Steve. You think you have it all figured out, but you're just a child playing at adulthood. I have sacrificed so much for this family; the least you can do is live up to the legacy."

"Sacrifice?" Steve's voice cracked, the weight of lost years overwhelming him. "You never sacrificed anything for me! You were too busy building your empire to notice me!"

"Do you think this is easy? Do you have any idea how hard I worked?" retorted Robert, rising from his chair, anger exploding. "Look at you, look at what you are! A failure! You're a disappointment!"

Disappointment. The word hung in the air, choking, as if it had just settled in Steve's chest. That word shattered something deep inside him, igniting a longing for freedom he had never known existed.

"That's not true!" he cried back, hot tears filling his eyes. "You've never even tried to understand me. All you care about is your image, your successes! I don't want any of that!"

"I am your father! I'm trying to prepare you for life, and this is what you do? You throw everything away for ... you for nothing?"

Steve seethed with anger and pain, the mix of emotions contending inside him until he could take no more. "You know what? Maybe I don't need you at all!" he shouted before running from the room, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.

As he left the mansion, the storm was equal to the turmoil in his heart. He rushed out into the rain, letting the deluge wash over him. He could not face his father, the anger swirling in his chest was a tangible entity demanding to be released. It felt like the beginning of the end, a farewell to a future he had not chosen...

Suddenly y/n's hand on his cheek brings him back to reality. Steve looked up, searching her face for answers, something she could not give. "What good is love without understanding?" The question remained there, charging the air with a melancholy that enveloped them like a fog. Silence fell between them, filled only by Steve's occasional quiet sobs. It was then that she reached out her hand, placing it on his knee, a gentle but firm gesture. "I'm not going anywhere, you know that, right? You're not alone in this." Y/N says felt a chill run through her. "It's the only love we have," she said softly, and it's still valid." A faint ghost of a smile ripped through his tears as he wiped his face with the cuffs of his sweater.

"But I don't want you to feel like you have to put on a brave face," she murmured, her heart pounding. "It's okay to be broken. You don't have to go through this alone."

"I feel so lost," he confessed, her voice broken again. "What do I do now?"

"Take it one day at a time," Y/N replied, her heart breaking for him. "You let yourself grieve. You let yourself feel everything: the anger, the sadness, even the joy of memories. And when you're ready, you can start to heal."

Steve looked at her, and for a moment the heaviness lightened, if only a little. "Thank you, Y/N," he said, in a firmer voice. "You always know what to say."

"Not always," he admitted, with a sweet smile on his lips. "Only when it's about you."

"What if I can't get over this?"

Y/N leaned closer, their knees brushing. "You will, Steve. Just like you fought for everything else. You have friends who care about you, who want to help you. Lean on us." He nodded, but uncertainty hovered in his eyes. The truth was stark; he was afraid.

After a few beats, it was his turn to unleash his feelings. "And ... you don't have to pretend with me," she murmured, "about your father or how you feel. This is a safe place, okay?" He inhaled sharply, studying her face. "What if I want to pretend everything is okay?"

"Then we can pretend together."

A moment passed; their gazes met, understanding flowed silently between them. It was a moment of connection that was full of hope, even in the midst of pain. Steve's brown eyes shone with a potential nuance: something unspoken that hovered beautifully in the air between them. They stayed like that for a while: an embrace, a clinging to each other's presence. Outside, the world continued to struggle with the weight of their shared loss, but in those moments, they both began to feel a glimmer of warmth; a reminder that in the deepest despair, the bonds of friendship could shine brightly enough to illuminate the path ahead, even if that path was shrouded in uncertainty.

[ilovetheriddler]

Horror Movie Marathon.

(BTAS) Jonathan Crane x F!Reader.

Word Count: 660.

Contents: Jonathan overworking himself, Fluff, kissing.

You carefully set out all the dvds that you had prepared in advance for tonight. You wanted to try and organize a date around some of Jonathan's interests. However, that proved to be a bit difficult because of his more unusual tastes. But you ultimately decided that because of his fascination with fear that a horror movie marathon would probably be enjoyable.

You wondered if he'd appreciate your attempt at a nice date. Would he actually enjoy horror movies? You weren't fully sure, but you really hoped that he would. You had ultimately reasoned that with his overall interest in fear that he'd probably be able to at least appreciate the movies on an artistic standpoint.

You've been looking forward to this night for a few weeks now. You and Jonathan had been dating for almost a year and a half now. However, you were hardly ever able to spend time together. He was always working on his fear toxin and coming up with plans on how to use it, or he was getting thrown into Arkham after batman had caught him, or he was escaping Arkham... Again. Honestly, he was always preoccupied with something.

You were snapped out of your train of thoughts as you heard the door to Jonathan's office open. His hair was quite disheveled, and his eyes looked tired. He had clearly been working away nonstop on his latest plans. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee in an attempt to keep himself awake slightly longer.

"Jon..? Don't tell me that you've been working in there since earlier this morning without a single break?"

"I have to, my dear. If I want my plan to go perfectly, then I need to enact them at the best time possible, so it needs to be finished in time."

You felt a bit disappointed and also worried for Jonathan's health if he kept working away at this rate. You knew and understood how important his research into fear and how it affected people was. He was extremely passionate about it, in fact. it's definitely not in the best of ways, but that was just one of the many things that made him... him.

He noticed that you appeared to be slightly disappointed about something, so he sighed and ran his hand through his hair before asking you about it.

"What’s wrong, my dear?"

"Oh... well, I suppose I'm just a bit worried about you.... are you sure you can't take a break...? Not even for just a little bit..?"

"....are you really dead set on having me take a break?"

"....Absolutely."

He sighed and reluctantly sat down on the couch next to you. It was then that he noticed the stack of movies and the bowl of popcorn that was setting on the coffee table. You wanted him to spend time with you. Honestly, he was somewhat less irritated about taking a brief break when he realized that. A slight smile broke out on his face.

"....A horror movie marathon...? That's what you want to spend your time doing with me?"

"Well... it's just... I know how much you like fear and stuff... so I thought you'd appreciate it...."

It warmed his heart that you wanted to try and do something he'd enjoy. Horror movies weren't exactly something he was too invested in. After all, they paled in comparison to the genuine fear that he had witnessed in people's eyes whenever he used his fear toxin. But they were still somewhat enjoyable. He leaned in closer to you and gently kissed your lips.

"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate the gesture."

After about an hour of watching them, you realized that Jonathan had fallen asleep next to you, clearly because of how much he'd been overworking himself with his plans. So you decided not to wake him. You adjusted the blanket to cover him better before kissing his forehead.

"... Goodnight Jon, I love you...."

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 2: Love confession (Jonathon Ohnn)

technical long awaited part 2 for this post ! we love revisiting old stuff in this house! prompt list here side note i just realized people spell his name as both jonathon and jonathan- is there an official spelling or do we all just use it interchangeably? def making it a hc that he gets annoyed when people spell his name wrong. esp after he becomes the spot... loss of identity stuff plot: following the events of the post linked above, you both get in the car to continue your trip. Surely, Jonathon's feelings won't rip themselves out of his throat on the way? notes: reader is gn, unestablished relationship, jonathathon crushing on reader, not proof read we die like uncle aaron, admin only knows lore based off the spiderverse stuff they have no prior knowledge on any other iteration of ohnn, pre collider, ambiguous ending, possible part 3 if the admin ever feels inclined to continue the story word count: 1.5k cws: none

Jonathon struggled to stay awake the morning after everything. After he had pulled himself out of bed between... god his mind was clinging together to keep details clear... it was somewhere between two in the morning and four, though he could be completely wrong. He decided to wait out the rest of night outside your hotel room. He did not get a single wink of sleep, his thoughts consuming him. Naturally, you didn't allow him to drive the car. There was still many hours left on the trip, and that wasn't even factoring in the drive back. You curse Alchemex for not sending someone else, or working out a different arrangement than having someone pick up the parts needed for some... machine...

"We'll stop in a few hours for breakfast, maybe around nine... does that sound alright? Could you try to catch some sleep so we can switch off eventually?" You glanced at Jonathon as the car rolled to a stop at the light. His eyes lazily pulled themselves to look at you, his glasses were secured in their case and tucked away in the door.

He scrunches his eyes closed, attempting to pull himself together. "Yeah, yeah... that works," He leaned back into his seat as the car began to move again.

It was gloomy outside, dark clouds hung in the sky as if it were about to rain. At least it was better than having the morning light going straight into his eyes. He leaned away from you and tried to get comfortable. It was horribly quiet, and suddenly he became all too aware of his breathing. He wasn't being too loud, or breathing too heavily? He shot a glance to you, and even though your eyes were still glued on the road ahead his sleep deprived mind would not stop the buzzing thought that you were judging him silently. He took a deep breath, and held it for as long as he could without turning red. He slowly exhaled as soft as he could. And he continued the process.

He did not get any sleep, too preoccupied on trying to make the air less awkward than it was. But you never seemed to notice it, or him. It remained this way for hours, until you both eventually pulled into a parking lot of some fast food place. Jonathon nearly jumped out of his skin when you gently shook his arm. His throat clenched painfully before he regained himself. "Sorry! I didn't realize you were asleep!" You apologized. You hadn't noticed after all. Gaze darting, he shook his head. "No, no no it's... fine..."

"Do you want to go inside, or do you just want to pass through the drive thru? I meant to ask you before pulling in, but some douchebag..." You trailed off. "I'm surprised you didn't wake up from the swerve."

Bringing the palms of his hands to his eyes he rubbed them, then blinked his vision clear. The clock said nine. You'd been on the road for three hours. A dull ache in his legs made themselves known suddenly as he pulled his eyes open wider. "We can go inside, give us a chance to walk and go to the bathroom,"

You nod in agreement.

Breakfast was uneventful, you both ate mostly in silence save for you checking in on him. Did you need to make a stop so he can get some proper rest? He insisted that he was fine, but you could tell he was lying through his teeth.

Soon you were back on the road, with you taking it upon yourself to simply keep driving for the remainder of this half of the trip. You did not feel confident with the idea of your coworker driving in his current state.

Morning stretched to noon, and then to late afternoon. The sky had since cleared for the most part, the sunset shining its light on your side of the car. You couldn't blame Ohnn for staring, with the way he could see each individual strand of hair lit up by the orange light. Or how your skin seemed to glow, you looked... alive. That was a normal thing to say about someone, surely!

It was this, mixed with the exhaustion that Jonathon let a single word slip through his chewed lips.

"Wow.."

That was all he said, his face burning brighter against the light that made it past you and onto his own face. He doubted he looked as beautiful as you in the light. His only redeeming quality right now, were his brown eyes. Brown eyes always seemed to look gorgeous in the light.

"Did you say something?" You shot a side glance to him, his teeth clenching as he realized his mistake.

But...

Was it a mistake?

He thought over his thoughts from the night before in bed. Everything he wanted to say to you. His eyes fixated on you, like a child staring at a bug they've found under a rock. He pulled his bottom lip in with his teeth, and ran them along the flesh. He weighed his options. He could be bold and say everything now... or he could keep quiet... If things ended bad, he could perhaps let himself wallow in shame in the passenger seat or ask someone to help him get home if you didn't allow him to ride back with you.

""Are you okay? " You asked when you didn't get a response. All day you had been worried about the man, his behavior was so off and it you were beginning to believe you may have done something wrong. Maybe you should have let him sleep on the floor like he had insisted, did you make him feel pressured to share the bed with you?

"No, actually I'm not." He said after a few seconds. A horrible opener, really. He didn't have time to fight his body cringing, he had already committed to this. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you," He added. That didn't make it sound any better. Before he could back out you were already pulling the car into the parking lot of a gas station, stopping the car. He had your full attention now.

"Is this about the bed thing? Or is it something else?"

He sucked air between his teeth, scraping his mind for some way to back out of this. This wasn't the best time to confess your feelings, was it? Let alone the right place. Jonathon had always thought that he would try to orchestrate something to "naturally" have you two fall together, opening a window to ask you out.. this was.. not at all what he had planned. He felt far too vulnerable, the inside of the car suddenly felt too small.

He was going to dismiss everything off as a joke, but when his eyes caught yours his jaw started working against him. In perhaps the most humiliating way.

"I'm in love with you, (Reader)"

The air hung thick.

Such a horrible way to say it.

He will never have the chance to confess to you in the way he wanted to, never would he want it to go out like this. He cursed himself for this failure.

What a waste.

He tore his eyes away from you as his face began to burn, soon followed by his ears and the back of his neck turning a bright shade of pink. For a horrifying moment he wondered if you would tell the rest of your coworkers about this. He tried to dismiss it once more, trying to follow it by a "Just kidding!" but his jaws betrayed him once more.

It was quiet, and he became aware of his breathing again. He began to focus on it, working to make sure it wasn't too loud in the space you shared.

He chanced a glance at you through the corner of his eye, only to see that similarly your face was burning as well. "You don't.. have to say anything-"

"No, I'm glad you told me..." You pulled your gaze forward and worked your brows together. More quiet followed before you breathed deeply and exhaled. You looked at the time, prompting him to look as well. He had been so deep in his thoughts and feelings the entire day that he had forgotten why you were driving. His horror deepens as he realizes that he had practically confessed to you while you were working... he wanted to bury himself into the ground.

"Can we talk about this later, when we get this.." You motion your hand around, "over with? When we get back home, I mean,"

It felt like a gut punch, but he understood. You both had a job to do, pick something up and return.

He nodded, trying to swallow the hurt look that tried to come out.

You nodded, and pulled the car out of the parking lot and returned driving. You both made it to your location, and got what you needed. There was no way the two of you were going to drive tonight, however, given the exhaustion settling in both of you.

This time Jonathon made sure the hotel room had two beds.

[sacrilegesummer]

Wet, Hot, American Nights - Part 3

Come on Eileen

summary: After arriving at your remote cliffside campsite, Nancy and Jonathon have a favor to ask you and Steve, pushing you beyond what you're comfortable doing. After unexpectedly inspiring Steve to push beyond his comfort zone, he starts to open up to you more, but the signs still feel mixed. Or maybe you're overthinking. warnings: flirting, wide open water, cliff jumping, mention of wild animals, cussing, cussing, heights, ‘only one bed’ trope, but for camping a/n: I am still VERY nervous pls be kind to me. I am trying to not describe the reader in any way besides age and gender, but if there's something written that feels like projecting a certain look, pls lmk and I will edit/fix it for the future:) hi sorry this took me so long life has been crazy lmao, bf is away for the summer so with nothing else to do this will take more priority in my life <3 Also the title names mean almost nothing, just a general vibe…

word count: 3.3K

After an hour voyage across the lake, traversing rapids in your small shitty canoes, and a mile and half portage with all of your things in hand, Cabins 6 and 11 finally made it to the designated camp site. Your campers fall down in a well-deserved huff. You were shocked, you didn’t hear a single complaint from any of them, not even a peep. In fact, they almost seemed to be enjoying the hard work. You let them have some time to settle as Nancy and Jonathon began to start a fire for dinner, while Steve unpacked the food. You place your bags by your tent bag, two lifeguard tubes near the edge of Jumping Rock (the cliff side), and immediately hang a rope in a tree to hang the bear bag later in the night. You learned your lesson during the first Site Night to hang the rope before it got dark. Thinking of the dark, you hollered to the kids behind you, “You’ll be setting up your own tent, so don’t let it get too late!” 

A chorus of groans followed your announcement, and Steve yelled back, “No dessert if your tent isn’t set up by the time dinner’s ready!”

You smirked at him, thankful for the backup. Nancy and Jonathon were too preoccupied to pay attention to you and Steve. 

“Steve…” you drew out, “if I cook your hobo stew, will you put up mine and Nancy’s tent?”

He grimaced at you, “I don’t know, I think I’ll need something else,” he eyes you playfully. “How about… You help me lifeguard the cliff and cook dinner, and I’ll put up your tent,” he said, sticking out his hand to strike the deal.

“Deal!” you shook his hand excitedly. Pitching the tents was your least favorite Site Night task. 

_ _ _

Your campers gathered around Jonathon’s hastily made campfire as you finished cooking dinner, all the tents were set up perfectly, girls on one side, boys on the other, with counselor tents on a hill, somewhat centered between the two. You let the girls giggle and gossip with each other, pleased to see them tolerating one another. You and your fellow counselors were further back on a picnic table, chowing down on your stew, talking about everything and anything related to camp. 

“Oh, by the way, you guys,” Nancy started, and looked between you and Steve bashfully, “Jonathon and I have a question for you.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you said in between mouthfuls.

“Would you guys mind if…” her voice got low, “if Jonathon and I shared a tent tonight? You can say no,” she added quickly. 

You looked at Steve, your face contorting uncomfortably. Sure, you and Steve were friends, but you were just becoming friends, and the last time you shared a tent, you also shared it with a dozen other people. Before you could say no, Steve almost yelled-

“Yes!” His face grew red and he looked at you, a couple of times, quickly saying, “If you’re okay with that. I think it’d be really fun,” Steve said with so much sincerity, you couldn’t possibly say no. 

“Of course, that sounds fun. Just don’t have too much fun, you two,” you winked at the couple. 

Jonathan scoffed at that, “You’re disgusting, there are children here,” he mocked you. “Isn’t it time for a cabin activity? A little… cliff jumping?” Jonathan cringed as he said it, clearly hating the idea of it, but it was something both sets of camper’s had been talking about since checking ‘Jumping Rock’ out. You knew he’d be just fine though, he and Nancy would be at the top making sure everyone had shoes and lifejackets on.

“You know it,” Steve smirked at his co-counselor. He leaned back towards the campers, “Okay, guys! Swimsuits on in 10 if you want to cliff jump!” Steve gestured to you and himself and added, “We’ll be waiting for you guys in the water!”

He hopped up off the table and tried to pull you along, “Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you laughed, tossing your sweatshirt onto the picnic table, and then ran towards the edge, both of your lifeguard tubes waiting for you.

You stepped out of your shorts and threw them aside in a place you would remember them. You were in your favorite one piece, a blue one piece with red lining all around the edges. Athletic and flattering, you looked good. You looked over to Steve to ask who should go first, but he was already looking at you. This time, he didn’t look away, but he did make quick eye contact. He raised his eyebrows at you questioningly, his face growing warm. “What’s up?” he squeaked out. 

“Do you wanna go first?” you gestured towards the edge of the cliff. It was about 30 feet until the surface of the water, and another 20 before the bottom of the lake, but from up here it might as well have been a mile jump. You loved the excitement, though, the adrenaline rush wasn’t even your favorite part. It was the feeling of free-falling, the weightlessness of it all, and the wind against your skin and through your hair. It was incredible, and you couldn’t wait to go, but you wanted to give Steve a fair chance of going first. 

He looked over the edge and laughed nervously, “That’s all you,” and took a step back. He gave a fake cough and said, “I’ve never actually… I don’t really like heights,” he explained. “I might take the path down…” he trailed off, looking towards the tiny overgrown path that led down to the bank. 

 You nodded understandingly and placed a hand on his arm, “Of course, I’ll meet you down there.” You faced forward, the sun was just beginning to set over the lake, and you took it in for a moment. You looked back at Steve and smiled, “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” hand still on his bicep.

“Totally,” Steve responded, “beautiful,” his eyes flashed between you and the sunset. His eyes dropped to your hand as you removed it from his arm, missing the warmth, even in 80-degree weather.

You took a deep breath, clutching onto your lifeguard tube that was under your left arm, and glanced back at Steve again for reassurance. Anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. The lake was like a perfect mirror to the beautiful sunset, and you took a few steps back. Not wasting another moment, you took off running towards the edge. The sun in your eyes and your hair bouncing wildly, Steve couldn’t believe he was the only one to witness this. He was completely mesmerized, staring at you as you ran off the edge. The moment you lose the ground underneath you, you let go of your tube, arms flailing. You couldn’t help the excited scream and hysterical laughter that left your mouth. 

The water was freezing, and the shock of the cold water made it hard to breathe for a moment, but once your face hit the surface, you laughed again. “Steve!” the first words out of your mouth instantly, “You gotta try it!” 

His head peeked over the edge, and you heard his laugh echo across the lake. “Give me some room!” he yelled as his head pulled away, taking some steps back. It was silent for over a minute (you checked your watch). Suddenly, you heard the pounding of his feet and saw his legs sprawl out as they left the rock. He let out a scream that sounded more akin to a horror flick than a joyous occasion. As his body cut through the water, his tube pulled him back to the surface. He came up sputtering and laughing even more hysterically. 

“I can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never done that! I never even jumped off the swings as a kid! Holy shit! I can’t believe you made me do that!” Steve rambled, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

“Made you? I didn’t do anything, that was all you! You should be proud of yourself!” you yelled back, despite being only a few feet away from each other. 

“I would have never done that if you weren’t here. I’d be a stickler up at the top like Nancy and Jon. Oh my god,” he threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it, that was awesome.”

You found yourself staring at him again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few hours, you couldn’t help it. He swung his head around and began to swim towards you, his large arms stretching and moving himself forward impressively fast, until he was right within your personal space. You both were treading water, your tubes long forgotten. 

“You’re like, really really awesome, you know that?” You looked into his big brown eyes, your face fawning a bit, touched by his compliment. 

“Steve, that’s-”

The sound of screaming cut you off abruptly, and you remembered you were supposed to be guarding lives in the water, not staring into Steve Harrington’s doe eyes and gentle smile. Not counting the freckles and moles on his face, brought out even more by the summer sun, you were supposed to be watching your campers.

Your campers were crying your name, over and over, “I can’t do it!” Courtney yells. 

Yvonne screams even louder, “What if I die?” which causes all the other girls to scream. 

Nancy has her ears covered while you scream back, “You won’t die! Just run and jump, you big babies!”

One by one, you watched your (irritating but) wonderful girls encourage each other, support one another, and eventually gather the courage to jump. It was such a beautiful moment to watch. Courtney went first; she was quite the leader, and this impressed you beyond belief. Steve’s cabin wasn’t much better, but they were petrified with fear until finally, Wade took the literal leap of faith. By the time the kids had all gone up and down three times, it was getting dark, and you and Steve decided to call it quits. 

Alisha begged, “Can we please do the polar plunge here tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Steve said seriously. It would be a polar plunge, and it meant they all were going to be soaking wet the entire way home, which usually led to some health issues in campers you all wanted to avoid. 

You and Steve pulled up the rear of the group, trudging along silently from exhaustion. Not a bad silence, in fact, quite a pleasant silence. You pushed Steve’s arm to let him know you were deviating from the group for a moment to go grab your shorts. Foolishly, you did not have a flashlight, and when you walked up to the top of the cliff, looking at the dense foliage, you realized that looking for your shorts was useless. Steve had followed you and realized what you did at the exact same time and said, “Shit. We can just look in the morning.”

“Yeah, but those are my only pants,” you said shyly. You were supposed to pack light! It’s one night!

“You can just wear my sweatpants. We’ll be in the same tent anyway, so it’s not like they’ll notice,” Steve offered, referring to the campers. 

“What will you wear then?”

Steve scoffed, “I like to live lavishly, I usually bring two pairs of pants, if you can believe it.”

“I actually can’t,” you said dryly.

“That’s okay, I’ll believe for the both of us,” he smirked. 

_ _ _

You were sitting by the fire, back at the knees of your camper, Piper, who was braiding your hair. She had what looked to be hundreds of beautiful little braids with beads woven in between the strands. She was braiding your hair into just two big braids, but said she could ‘sacrifice’ a couple of her extra beads for you. When she finished, you took another look around the campfire.

You noticed the girls growing increasingly tired with every minute that passed, until finally the conversation had completely died down. The boys were off in the woods. You think you saw them building forts earlier, but now you could just hear them whispering. 

“Okay, girls, I think it’s time for bed,” you said, just above a whisper, getting up and shaking the shoulders of Alisha, who was passed out in the dirt, a log as her pillow. As they started to file into their tents, you saw Jonathon doing the same with his boys. You gave him a wink across the fire before heading into yours and… Steve’s tent. Your face grew hot thinking about it. Sleeping in such a small space with him felt incredibly intimate, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. He seemed very excited at the prospect of sleeping in the same tent as you, though you wondered if he just didn’t want Nancy and Jonathon to feel guilty for asking. 

The absence of crunching gravel let you know your girls had gone to sleep, you turned around and whisper-yelled ‘goodnight!’ to your girls, who very adorably and sleepily said goodnight back. The air had become much colder, and you were thankful for the pants Steve would soon lend you. You made eye contact with him as he walked a camper to their tent (a boy who was scared of the dark had asked him to come with him while he brushed his teeth), and he smiled at you. You gave one back and unzipped the tent, taking your shoes off before carefully crawling in. You were a little startled when he put his face in the open tent flap and pointed aggressively at his backpack. 

“My sweatpants are in there. Go ahead and put them on. I’ll brush my teeth while you do that,” he said, and quickly pulled out and zipped the door up to give you some privacy. You rummaged through his bag and found what you assumed were the ones he wanted you to wear. They were simple, navy blue Nike joggers. You quickly undressed, taking your swimsuit off and putting on clean, dry undergarments. You put his pants on, untying the drawstring for more comfort. You unzipped the door to hang your swimsuit to dry and looked around to see if he was nearby or if any campers were creeping. The last thing you needed was for a camper to see the tent switch. You looked over at Jonathon and Nancy’s tent, hearing the quiet whispering and giggling, and you smiled gently at the two of them. You carefully stepped back into your tent. While waiting for Steve, you lay down on top of your blue sleeping bag and shoved your sweatshirt under your head as a pillow. You couldn’t help but notice Steve had a real pillow on his side. Talk about lavish! You were told not to pack too much of anything. Were you the only one to listen to that advice? 

You flipped the switch of your flashlight and grabbed the one luxury you cared to bring: your favorite book. You shined the flashlight on the open pages and read through a few pages before you heard Steve scratch at the nylon of the tent. 

“Are you decent?”

You laughed, “Yes, I’m clothed, come in.”

His head popped in and began to crawl inside, flipping on his butt to take his shoes off. He glanced at your book, “Do you want to read for a bit before going to bed?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m like, exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, but the way his eyes were flitting around the tent led you to believe he was less tired than he was letting on. “You look good in my pants, by the way. You look nice in blue.”

You looked down at your legs and then back at Steve, “They’re sweatpants.”

“Still, you look good. In like- everything.” Steve’s eyes were wide, and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Your face grew red at the compliment. 

“Thank you. For the compliment and letting me wear them. I really appreciate it.” 

The tent fell into another quiet moment, the sounds of the campers' distant chatter and the rustling of trees outside filling the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. The heat of the tent, the closeness of your sleeping bags, and the quiet sound of nocturnal creatures made everything feel much more intimate.

You both settled into your sleeping bags a bit more, and you shut your flashlight off. You broke the silence this time. 

“You seem to really like your cabin this week. I’m still thinking about what we talked about last week, how you felt that you couldn’t connect with anyone at camp. Has that changed?”

Steve seems a little surprised at your question, “Yeah. I’ve taken what you said to heart. Finding that appreciation and connection. You know I’m- I’m letting camp change me, letting camp really, like- take its course on me. It’s been great letting my guard down and not being so… pretentious… about everything.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed, “I mean, even today, watching the guys help each other, and care for each other, it really makes you feel like you’re a part of something bigger,” you could see him grin, even in the dim light, “Like when Wade jumped. He looked like he might pass out before he jumped, but when he came back up… he was so stoked. Like, just so proud of himself."

“Isn’t it incredible! And you get to be a part of that. It seems small Steve, but you’re changing lives here, not just your own.”

“It is…” Steve smiled to himself and then chuckled quietly, “I don’t think I would have done any of that as a kid. And I definitely wouldn’t have the courage you’ve got.”

“I only pretend to be cool, my heart was still racing the entire time.” 

Steve was quiet for a moment, "I don’t know… I just think it’s awesome how you can just do all of that. You’ve got this confidence, like… nothing can rattle you. You walk around like you own camp, and you basically do. You walk around dancing like you don’t care if anyone sees. And maybe no one does, except me,” Steve says that last part so quietly, you couldn’t make out what he said. He looks over at you, and even though he can hardly make out your profile in the dark, he stares anyway. 

“I do not own camp,” you laugh, “and I dance like that because I just always have a song stuck in my head. Gotta dance that earworm out,” and you start wiggling in your sleeping bag, which Steve can only tell because of the scratchy sound of it against your clothes. You laugh and then say seriously, “But, thank you. That means a lot. It’s good to be recognized, you know? You also are like, really impressive this week. I haven’t seen such life in your eyes… I don’t think ever.”

He laughs quietly, “That’s probably true. It hasn’t seemed worth it until now.”

You smiled back at Steve, though neither of you could see each other. You were glad the cover of night shielded your facial expressions. You were beginning to like Steve, but you still haven’t forgotten the arrogant sex pest he seemed to be not five weeks ago. People change, but they don’t change that fast. You wondered if he was playing the long game with you. Maybe he was trying to get closer to Patty or Mae, your best friends at camp, and you were the way in. Instantly, you willed yourself to stop thinking about that, your chest uncomfortably tight. 

“Goodnight, Steve,” you said quietly.

He smiled, and you could see the glow of his teeth even in the dark, “Goodnight, sleep well,” adding your name quietly.  

 The night outside of the tent seemed to take you both into sleep simultaneously, the exhaustion finally reaching both of you. Steve fell asleep to thoughts of your hair, whipping around in the wind, your laugh that was quickly becoming his favorite genre of music, and your body in that blue one-piece. 

[thethirdromana]

I'm going to preface this by saying that I don't know how much this actually holds up, but I've been thinking about how each of the Dracula characters perceives/judges other people.

Jack Seward judges people based on looks. I don't necessarily mean that he's shallow (though I think that can be part of his character!) but his judgment is all based on observation. He's the character who describes Mina's looks the most, he's preoccupied with Quincey and Arthur's manly appearance, and he's surprised when Jonathan's appearance doesn't match his character. As soon as Renfield looks less like Jack's idea of a madman, he immediately thinks he should be released from the asylum, even though Renfield tried to kill him less than two weeks earlier.

Van Helsing judges people based on role. We see that in his misjudged treatment of Mina: she has been assigned the role of Woman (wife/future mother) and the fact that she would be better off within the circle of men completely passes him by. Similarly Arthur gets assigned Son (to Van Helsing) and Husband (to Lucy). Quincey is Hero. Despite how their relationship has changed, Jack is still stuck in the role of Student.

Quincey judges people based on action. There's less to go on here, but his trust of Van Helsing is assured by Van Helsing's care of Lucy, and his friendship with Mina and Lucy is sealed, in both cases, with a kiss.

Arthur judges people based on emotion. Very slim pickings to demonstrate this given there's so little in this novel that's actually in Arthur's voice, but his connections with Mina, Van Helsing and Lucy all seem to take place at a more emotional level than those of the other suitors. Lucy presents Arthur's proposal as more emotional than those of the other suitors; he connects with Mina by sharing grief; and he is more emotionally reactive to Van Helsing's treatment of Lucy than the others.

Jonathan judges people based on... idk, I want to say kindness? I don't know how much of this is that he simply experiences more kindness (as well as more suffering!) than the other characters in the novel. But from the very beginning when the old woman gives him her crucifix, it feels like kindness is something that Jonathan responds to strongly, and unkindness too.

Lucy is trickier too because we don't see her judging people as much as the other characters, since she doesn't meet that many people for the first time on the page. She responds warmly to Van Helsing because he is good to her. I think there's an element of judging people based on social norms but I don't know how much that holds up.

And then there's Mina, who doesn't really fit into any of these patterns. She responds to looks (her physiognomic assessment of Van Helsing), to roles and social norms (accepting the men sidelining her, albeit unhappily), to emotion (the suitors' love of Lucy), to action (the men's protection of her).

I think this demonstrates once again that Mina is the very heart of the novel. She is the listener who hears both the bands; she compiles the text itself; she reflects the strengths of the group with (in Van Helsing's words) a man's brain and a woman's heart; and she spans many of the different ways that they judge, perceive and relate to people too.