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#idk the canon ages of the four of them

fairyysoup · 1 year

Text

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself.

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something.

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you.

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again.

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder.

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway.

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you.

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it.

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does.

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will.

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive.

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again.

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying.

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will.

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him.

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you.

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.”

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience.

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?”

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair.

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing.

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth.

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile.

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?”

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?”

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night.

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.”

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.”

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.”

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens.

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face.

Steve Harrington is touching your face.

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him.

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile.

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer.

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana.

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it.

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation.

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you.

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.”

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.”

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.”

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?”

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.”

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror.

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself.

You like it a lot.

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours.

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.”

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.”

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?”

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?”

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night.

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own.

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?”

“I wish.”

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return.

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted.

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?”

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?”

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away.

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly.

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!”

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?”

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.”

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?”

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him.

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.”

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy.

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count.

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.”

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section.

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.”

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals.

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly.

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking.

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers.

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst.

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.”

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack.

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop.

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices.

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant.

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.”

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.”

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.”

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York.

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt.

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm.

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.”

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?”

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.”

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps.

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date.

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away.

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me.

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel.

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying.

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite.

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones.

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time.

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things.

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve.

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box.

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him.

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box.

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms.

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check.

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day.

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes.

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind.

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms.

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you.

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now.

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours.

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco.

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building.

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him.

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?”

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open.

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you.

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.”

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice.

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.”

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.”

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?”

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you.

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.”

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out.

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?”

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor.

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open.

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you.

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit.

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders.

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?”

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours.

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started.

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning.

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips.

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind.

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline.

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him.

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?”

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?”

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows.

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose.

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?”

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork.

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself.

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #roses*

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a-little-lostmoon · 2 months

Text

some LU headshots in my style for personal reference. subject to change bc drawing consistently is a bitch but overall i think i’m happy w them! (ignore the comic/writing idea in the upper right corner it may or may not be made into a full think idk yet—)

typed notes for each lu member + a little extra below cut

wild—

oval eyes

rounder oval ((ish)) face

amber earrings

healed scarring

androgynous

i tried to reference the boys’ canonical character models to individualize their features more. i love botw and totk sm but personally i’m not the hugest fan of the way the characters look for it? even so, i think the rounder sort of eye shape works really well for my wild

his colors specifically i drew to be a bit more sunset kissed/orangeish bc i was referencing a wild photo in which the time was sunset. thats abt it. but i think it’s really pretty on him so i’m probably just keeping that whenever i draw wild

warriors—

cheek bones/jawline

rounder ears

pointy eyes ((eyeliner that could stab a person))

cheek scar bc i felt like it

i stole away some of wars’ side fringes, forgive me i couldn’t decide whether i wanted them to cover up his jawline and chickened out. if anyone actually read the comic thing you’ll see smth abt the old man and wars talking abt how his hair parted to the other side of his face during the war. i made it to ‘vent my frustrations’ bc i drew his hair part referencing HW photos of link instead of LU wars and it’s now become my headcanon.

his hair color is vivid bc HW color pallet is pretty damn vivid and his eyes & earrings are a deeper blue to match his scarf. color coordination!

anw he’s a pretty boy so i made him pretty — that’s pretty much the rest i have to say abt that

time—

tired eyes

longest ears

(slight) rbf

both time & legend have half circle/oval eyes ((kind of. at least that’s what i tried to go for to give them a more worn/serious look))

i’m not the best with differentiating ages. i tried to make him look a bit more worn/oldest but i also wanted all of them to still carry some of that classic pretty boy link look. don’t have much else to say but he has the longest/angular ears bc fairy boy. let’s pretend four’s don’t look longer than his i drew him later and forgot

twilight—

<-takes more features from malon ((who i haven’t drawn yet so you don’t have any reference on that))

pretty boy face (wasn’t intentional but it is what it is)

twilight princess link is v pretty. twilights usually one of the more rugged (for lack of a better term) looking ones bc he’s among the taller ones/apart of the “adult” squad but i accidentally made him very pretty looking. oops. don’t know if that will remain consistent for him if i draw him more so we shall see

him and time share less features than i might’ve wanted? you can see a bit of time’s jaw in the way his face curves but overall they don’t share many features. again, he takes more after malon. but their hair textures are incredibly similar if that means anything

gave him jade studs bc they reminded him of midna and are practical enough that he can just keep them in the whole time (bc he will lose them or forget abt them if he takes them off)

sky—

rounder face

big eyes

lips

big ears

his hair color was a bitch to get right im not sorry i had to say it color is so hard to work with. in any case! skyward sword link has bigger looking eyes cus of the style and i just ran w that. his earrings are magenta to match sun’s dress but look red when the light catches them right (or wrong ig bc they look red in dim light too) just bc i realized his earrings were red to match his outfit/crimson.

sky and the next three (everyone sans wind) probly look the least off their character models

legend—

oval iris

full rbf

multiple piercings ((this is important for u to know))

longer narrow face & features

boy’s a strawberry blond bc i said so. and also legend purple eyes propaganda. i don’t know where exactly that originated but like i love it and im on board. he also has purple stud earrings he always keeps in — curious, isn’t it. he probably has more than i gave him but well, thats all i gave him. it gets the picture across. hc that legend realized he couldn’t get more fingers for his rings but he could get more piercings that could handle jewelry that did almost exactly the same thing. practicality!

also i couldn’t decide on legend’s hair length. its all hidden by that hat of his so i just… didn’t draw the back half portion of his hair. does that make my legend bald at the back of his head? you decide.

hyrule—

wide face narrow chin

freckles!!!

bigger earlobes

the earlobes is me projecting /hj but i tried to reference the og link’s face shape for him which idk if i like yet. he has freckles and more accent colors in his hair and eyes which is a subtle thing but a sorta maybe reference to his fairy magic. no piercings for him! i forgot them/didnt see them on og link and can’t really imagine when hyrule would ever get the time to pierce them so he and wind can do that together eventually to bond. legend will do it probly — he obviously has the experience and wild can’t be trusted (offered to pierce winds ears with a knife canonically)

wind—

big eyes

void eyes

big ears but rounder than skys

soft face

fluffy hair

wind’s 100 yard stare *does* things to the chain but none of them tell him that because he’d definitely use it to freak people out. i couldnt decide between going lighter sun bleached hair wind or bright blinding yellow toon link hair so i kind of meshed them together to create that. tried to make him the youngest looking

four—

symmetrical angles ((and then i drew a polygon quadrilateral bc thats the shape i used as a reference)) for cheeks and eyes

minish feather ((earring))

minish ears & nose

hime bangs

yk the picture of a minish that comes up when googled? thats what i used as a reference for his features. ears specifically, nose somewhat. four’s eyes are usually the greyish hazel color you get from mixing all of their colors together but i liked the split look for this piece more. his hair color is also wind’s but inverted so wind’s lights are four’s highlights and his darks make up the brunt of the base color as a slight reference to how it’s occasionally theorized/hc that wind is four’s descendant.

and the hime bangs were bc i wanted a little more “link side fringe” variation and i thought the sort of straight cut looked nice. hime bangs are not the right term tho bc he parts them to the side and doesn’t have that straight cut on his forehead but i’m too lazy to fight the correct term

— thank u for reading, go hydrate and eat if you have not <3

#linked universe #lu #link #loz #legend of zelda #lu wild #lu warriors #lu time #lu twilight #lu sky #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu four #four looks cursed without his headband i apologize for that

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multishipperofgaydeadwizards · 4 months

Text

(Almost) All the marauders era characters (that I could find at least)

@catinasink the post I promised you.

this list isn't finished yet, but I feel like this list finally deserves to see the light of day. hell, cat, you've probably forgotten this was in the making... which I can't blame you for because this has been happening since christmas 💀

I will update it... eventually. idk when yet

if you want to, you can send me an ask, and I'll tell you my hc for the characters :D

James Potter

Father of Harry Potter

born 27th March 19 and died 31st October 19

Griffindor

pureblood

was at hogwarts from 1971 to 1978

Sirius Black

Griffindor

born 3rd November 1959 and died 18th June 1996

pureblood

was framed for the murder of James Potter and Lily Potter (Evans) and sent to Azkaban

was at hogwarts from 1971 to 1978

Remus John Lupin

born 10th March 1960 and died 2nd May 1998

was bitten by a werewolf as a child (he was four I believe not sure tho)

Griffendor

was at hogwarts from 1971 to 1978

Peter Pettigrew

born around 1960 and died somewhere in March 1998

griffindor, but the head took five minutes to decide

first worked with the order, but then became a deatheater and is the actual reason James and Lily were murdered

was at hogwarts from 1971 to 1978

Marlene McKinnon

died July 1981

marlene was a member of the wizarding mckinnon family, which, according to hagrid, consisted of some of the best witches and wizards of their age, implying that marlene too was a very accomplished witch

Lily J. Evans

born 30th January 1960 and died 31st October 1981

muggleborn

griffindor

married james potter and had Harry Potter with him. she died protecting Harry

was at hogwarts from 1971 to 1978

Mary McDonald

attended hogwarts in the 1970s with lily and severus snape

was attacked by mulciber with dark magic somewhere during her time at Hogwarts

griffendor

Frank C. J. Longbottom

pureblood

married Alice Longbottom

was tortured into insanity by a group of death eaters (bellatrix, rodolphus, and rabastian lestrange and barty crouch jr)

Alice Longbottom

has no canon maiden name, but people often hc her as a fortescue

pureblood

was tortured into insanity by a group of deatheaters (bellatrix, rodolphus, and rabastian lestrange and barty crouch jr)

Molly Weasley (Prewett)

was born as molly prewett, but she married arthur weasley and took his last name

born 30th October 1949 or 1950

pureblood

griffindor

killed bellatrix during the second wizarding war

Gideon Prewett

died 1981

pureblood

was murdered by five deatheaters before the end of the (first) wizarding war (Antonin Dolohov & four others)

he may have had a big nose

Fabian Prewett

died 1981

pureblood

was murdered by five deatheaters before the end of the (first) wizarding war (Antonin Dolohov & four others)

he may have had a big nose

Arthur Weasley

born 6th February 1950

pureblood

griffindor

believer in the equality of all magical and Muggle folk

was born to septimus and cedrella weasley (née black) and had two brothers

married molly prewett, who took his last name

Selina Sapworthy

griffindor

born before 1969

award-winning author in the fields of Herbology and plant-related Divination

worked for the international quidditch team

Wainscott

was born before 1981

worked as a nurse at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under Poppy Pomfrey during the 1990s

she has no canon first name, but I usually call her Carmen Wainscott

Lucinda Thompsonicle-Pocus

designed the list for materials needed by the students

chief attendant of witchcraft provisions for hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry in the early 1990s

Stebbins

no canon gender

in 1976, they refused to stop writing with their quill even after the time ran out (during O.W.Ls). they got in trouble with flitwick because of it

they have no canon name, but I usually call them Alexander Stebbins and hc them as male

Camelia

was a teacher during the 1990s

possibly a member of the slug club

was murdered by an unknown deatheater after the battle of Hogwarts

after she stopped teaching, she got married

she has no canon last name, but I usually call her Camelia Solis

Patricia Rakepick

was a dark witch and a world-famous curse-breaker for gringotts wizarding bank

exceptional student, top of her class, who, regardless, was always in trouble

attended hogwarts from 1967 to 1974

was said to be friendly with the marauders and even "mentored" them in troublemaking

Olivia Gleaves

was reported missing together with her relative toby in 1997

Caspard Singleton

invented the self stirring cauldron

was born in 1959

Sturgis Podmore

member of the order of phoenix and fought in both wars

was a member of the advanced guard in 1995

was put under the imperius curse by a death to break in the department of mysteries and was sentenced to six months in azkaban for it

Tilden Toots

born 1959

worked as a famous herbologist, potioneer, and radio personality and presenter

was said to have three green thumbs due to both having a wizarding condition and radial polydactyly in his left hand

Davey Gudgeon

visited hogwarts during the early 1970s

nearly lost his eye trying to get close enough to the whomping willow to touch its trunk as part of a game. since the incident, students were forbidden to go near the tree for their own safety, and possibly for the tree's own safety as well

Florean Fortescue

died 1996

summer of 1996, he was abducted and later murdered by lord voldemort

was an expert on the subject of medieval witch-burnings

owner of florean fortescue's ice cream parlour in diagon alley

Albert Runcorn

high ranking wizarding official during the administration of pius thicknesse

he investigated alleged muggleborns and uncovered dirk cresswells muggle ancestry

might have been sent to azkaban for his war crimes against muggleborns

Mary Elizabeth Cattermole

muggleborn

unknown maiden name

was described as small with dark hair that she wore in a neat bun

she lived at 27 chislehurst gardens, great tolling, evesham with her husband and children

Reginald "Reg" Cattermole

sun in libra, moon in virgo

he had three children with mary (Maisie, Ellie, and Alfred)

lived at 27 chislehurst gardens, great tolling, evesham

Bilton Blimes

lived in the highlands of scotland in the 1980s

taken up both residence and employment in the picturesque little all-wizarding village of hogsmeade as the proprietor of zonko's joke shop

Narcissa Malfoy

born narcissa black

pureblood

born 1955

cousin of sirius and regulus, younger sister of bellatrix and andromeda, wife of lucius malfoy

was never a deatheater herself, but also believed in blood purity

slytherin

Lucius Malfoy

born 1954

slytherin

pureblood

deatheater and believed in pureblood supremacy

Thorfinn Rowle

deatheater who fought in the second war

he fought at the battle of the astronomy tower, where he accidentally killed fellow deatheater gibbon, burned rubeus hagrid's cabin, and tortured harry potter

on 1 August 1997, he tracked harry potter, ron weasley, and hermione granger to tottenham court road along with antonin dolohov disguised as construction workers, but the two death eaters were defeated and their memories were modified by hermione to cover their escape

Bellatrix Lestrange

born bellatrix black

pureblood

born 1951 and died 2 May 1998

cousin of sirius black and regulus black, older sister of andromeda tonks and narcissa malfoy

deatheater and believer of pureblood supremacy

slytherin

Zabini

mother of blaise zabini

famously beautiful and had seven husbands who died mysteriously

was known by horace slughorn, which is the reason he invited blaise into his compartment

she has no canon first name, but I usually call her Zoya Evelyn Zabini

Emma Vanity

slytherin

she was captain of the slytherin quidditch team from 1972 to 1976

Lucinda Talkalot

slytherin

she became captain of the slytherin quidditch team in 1976

Septima Vector

professor of arithmancy may have also been the advanced arithmancy studies teacher

known as really strict teacher who gives very hard homework

Evan Rosier

born between 1953-1966 and died in 1981

deatheater

pureblood

possibly related to the (female) black cousins

was killed by alastor moody

Regulus Arcturus Black

died 1979

pureblood

dratheater that turned on voldemort

little brother of sirius black, and cousin of bellatirx, narcissa and andromeda

slytherin

Dorcas Meadows

died 1981

died in the first war and was killed by voldemort himself

was a member of the order of phoenix

Glenda Chittock

born 1964

was the host of the wizarding wireless network program, witching hour. being host of this enormously famous radio program, she is featured on a chocolate frog card

Gwenog Jones

welsh

became a professional quidditch player and later achieved fame as the captain and beater of the welsh all-female quidditch team, the holyhead harpies

later, became the manager of the Welsh National Quidditch team

was the favorite student of slughorn and inducted into his club

Alecto Carrow

deatheater

sister of amycus carrow

after the fall of the ministry of magic in 1997, alecto was made professor of muggle studies; she taught the thinking that muggles are lesser than wizardkind, and likely taught the pureblood-philosophy as well

when severus snape became headmaster of hogwarts, she was appointed as deputy headmistress, alongside her brother (who was appointed as deputy headmaster)

loved to torture students that opposed her

Amycus Carrow

deatheater

brother of alecto carrow

was made DADA professor in 1997, which just became Dark Arts while he thought it

Amycus liked to cruelly punish and torture the students who opposed the new regime

Dolores Jane Umbridge

born 26 august 1961 or earlier

halfblood

slytherin

I don't have to explain her further, do I?

Arnold "Arnie" Peasegood

born 1976 or earlier

worked at the ministry of magic. by 1994, he worked in the capacity of obliviator for the accidental magic reversal squad and also as a hit wizard

Cereus Greengrass

had a blood malediction

Rodolphus Lestrange

pureblood

most likely slytherin

deatheater

Rabastian Lestrange

deatheater

pureblood

most likely slytherin

Severus Snape

needs no explanation

Mulciber Jr

was friends with snape

slytherin

deatheater

threw hexes at muggleborn students

assaulted mary mcdonald violently

has no canon first name, but I usually call him Bruce Mulciber

Avery Jr

was friends with snape

deatheater

slytherin

found it funny when mulciber tried to use dark magic on mary macdonald during the 1975-1976 school year

has no canon first name, but I usually call him Edmund Avery Junior

Wilkes

was friends with snape

deatheater

slytherin

died while trying to avoid being put in azkaban

has no canon first name, but I usually call them Juliette/Willhelm Wilkes

Rita Skeeter

didn't like bilton blimes for a prank that kept her from being able to get into the slug club

was a journalist who wrote for the sake of people reading instead of facts

could transform into a beetle (did the animagus training sometime prior to 1986)

Steve Laughalot

captain of the slytherin quidditch team from 1968 to 1972

slytherin

Florence Greengrass

bertha jorkins once caught her kissing a boy

Tamsin Hillicker

was reported missing along her relative iola

Gibbon Chavez

was a deatheater

it's unknown if he fought in the first war if he got sent to azkaban

Zamira Gulch

author who wrote "practical household magic"

also wrote for the daily prophet

D. L. Boot

went to hogwarts during the 1970s

has no canon first names, but I usually call him Douglas Lloyd Boot

Aurora Sinistra

works as astronomy teacher

her lesson are at night so she sleeps during the day

Emmeline Vance

died in 1996 during a deatheater attack

was a member of the original order of phoenix and probably fought in both wars

Sybill Trelawney

half-blood (muggle mother; wizard father)

made the prophecy about voldemort and the chosen one

she predicted that peter would escape and return to voldemort

worked as a teacher in hogwarts and was fired by umbridge

was born on march 9 in an unknown year

was engaged to a guy with the last name higglebottom but refused to take his last name so the relationship didn't last

Millecent Bagnold

ravenclaw

worked for the ministry

was elected the minister for magic of great britain in 1980

Pandora

mother of luna lovegood, wife of xenophilius lovegood

died during an experiment and luna watched

unknown maiden name

Barty Crouch Junior

deatheater

played by david tennat so obviously the most attractive man ever

received the dementors kiss on June 24th 1995

Doris Purkiss

(in 1995, during an interview) gave sirius an alibi for the night of the peter pettigrew + 12 muggle murders (she said they had a romantic dinner bc sirius= stubby boardman)

lived at number 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton

Annalena Gleams

born annalena murk

griffindor

was a prefect

Dahlia F.

slughorn kept a picture of her in a viking maiden costume on his shelf

was a singled out member of the slugclub

apparently became an opera singer

Wendy Slinkhard

british

wrote at least 1 book

may be related to wilbert slinkhard, the author of defensive magical theory

was invited to the slugclub

slughorn kept a picture of her signing her book copy

Blossom Degrasse

famous herbologist, author, and potion master

released the book called "A Humble Guide for Potion Brewing You Cannot Live Without"

Mafalda Hopkirk

born 19 February–20 March, in or before 1973

assistant in the improper use of magic office at the ministry of magic

was incapacitated and impersonated by hermione granger

hopkirk's polyjuice potion was described as having a "pleasant heliotrope colour"

presumed that she was a kind and good-natured

E. Lima

e. lima was a wizard or witch who competed in duels. the daily prophet published a special report in 1996 about a duel between e. lima and m. mina, that was the final match of a dueling competition

has no canon first name or gender but I usually call them Estelle Lima and hc her as female

M. Mina

m. mina was a wizard or witch who competed in duels. the daily prophet published a special report in 1996 about a duel between e. lima and m. mina, that was the final match of a dueling competition

has no canon first name or gender but I usually call them Marcelina Mina and hc her as female

Verruca Buckthorn-Snyde

was a dark witch, who was a high-ranking member of a dangerous organisation known as 'R'

was also a metamorphmagus who could change her appearance at will

Villanelle

noted to be a skilled linguist

madam villanelle was a witch who worked at flourish and blotts in the 1980s and early 1990s

has no canon last name, but I usually call her Villanelle Solis

Olivia Green

ravenclaw

worked for the british ministry of magic as an unspeakable in the department of mysteries

eventually became the defense against the dark arts teacher in the 1990-1991 school year

Regulus Moonshine

developed a potion to suppress hags' normal appetite for human flesh. lost several chunks of own body while conducting the clinical trials

the daily prophet called him "professor", but it is not known if he ever taught at a wizarding school

Dirk Cresswell

mid-1990s he became head of the goblin liaison office, at the ministry of magic

fluent in Gobbledegook

a favourite student of slughorn

probably muggleborn

Augustis Pye

trainee healer at st mongo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries in the dai llewellyn ward

was interested in muggle medical practices

Bones

child of mr bones and mrs bones, sibling of amelia and edgar, and parent of susan

has no canon first name or gender but I usually call them Lucas Bones and hc them as male

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allgremlinart · 5 months

Note

I would like to hear about the earth kingdom over expansion theory

‼️ ok. admittedly this DOES require some knowledge of my pre-unification theory to understand better sdhsdh.

but basically, it rests on a few certain assumptions and ideas that make me believe that The Earth Kingdom looks as big as it does because it has made some aggressive, ambitious, and somewhat wobbly land claims throughout its history.

the facts of canon are as follows:

While being divided into smaller kingdoms and states the Earth Kingdom has a centralized seat of power that exerts authority and administration over them (currently, Ba Sing Se).

The Northern Air Temple is marked on the world map as Earth Kingdom Territory, while the other three Air Temples which are not connected to the contiguous EK by land are not.

By 4,000 BG the four nations were not yet unified or ethnically identifiable.

my assumptions and theories are as follows:

While when we appear on the scene in 100AG its clear that the 4 nations developed to have a strong sense of ethnic identity, it is unclear if national ethnic (see: elemental) identity came before or after these territories unified.

The borders of the 4 four nations changed and oscillated over time.

It is the central authority that is currently in power (BSS, Chin The Conqueror, Kuvira, etc) that decides what is and what is not considered the "Earth Kingdom."

These decisions and claims are not always 100% salient, or there is no intrinsic or inherent claim to an ethnic Earth sovereignty over all the territory we see that it possesses.

So essentially what I've concluded/headcanoned based off my own personal assumptions is:

Once upon a time the Earth Kingdom decided that the Northern Air Temple and the mountains they lived in were now Earth Kingdom territory. The Air Nomads simply didn't challenge this because they didn't care about borders or nation states and also the EK has no way of ascending to the temples to collect taxes from them or anything anyway.

Once upon a time the Earth Kingdom decided that the islands closest to the South Pole, which were historically either a mix of Earth and Water elemental identities, mostly Water Tribe, or populated mostly by non-benders, were now Earth Kingdom territory. The people from these islands did not put up much of a fight to these claims since the EK rarely bothered to sail out there anyway.

In conclusion: this theory is mostly an excuse for me to make the world's history messier (because it's fun and realistic) and to expand the Southern Water Tribe's identity and cultural sphere of influence (because it's fun and I can draw about it.) Uhm. play with me in this space? if you want.

(the map I used is from the official RPG book, but here's another map of 98 AG by GPMAsss2 on Deviantart because. well idk just because. I like this one. atla has a cool map community if you know where to look...)

#grem's atla worldbuilding rambles #<- sorry.#anyways. might have some art to go with this that extrapolates on it but I also am super busy lolol #atla #allgremlinasks #long post

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marvels-meme · 7 months

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Canon worldbuilding lore on the MCU Kree to help you with your fanfic

They rule over multiple planets. Hala is the capital.

Hala's star is called Pama

In the comics there are around five known planets in Hala's system - it's unclear if Hala is 4th or 5th planet because it's been confused with another planet, Turunal.

Hala is located in the Larger Magellanic Cloud

Hala had oceans and forests (rip to those tho lol)

Leader of the Empire is called the "Supremor"

The Supreme Intelligence was basically god

The collective is one idea of the afterlife — if your brain is worthy it joins the Supreme Intelligences database when you die.

The spiritual afterlife is called the Etherplex or something idk

Their technology is somewhat water based (need more info on this)

Architecture is heavy on metal and stone and is very geometric. Buildings are detailed but there generally isn't too much furniture.

Cyan and purplish lights for a big chunk of Hala, golden lights for the Supreme Intelligence.

No hanging paintings... If you want art you have to hire someone to paint your wall lol

Starforce generally have one room apartments, I couldn't see a kitchen in them.

Stuff like wardrobes, book shelves, cupboards and drawers are more likely to be inserted into the wall to save space.

Like Carol literally lived in a single room with a bed, nightstand and a hexagonal cup. The ideal female living space.

They have hexagonal cups (I just thought that was cute)

The military is a big deal! Other respectable careers involve teaching, medicine, typically intelligent jobs that give something to society.

Kids are trained from a young age in the military. They're called "recruits". There's a deleted scene of Yon-Rogg teaching some.

The military hierarchy is likely Supremor > Accuser > Starforce > Kree Army > Non Kree Army > War slaves.

The Accusers aren't just extra bad military. They uphold the law, make arrests, hold trials, decide punishments, etc. I'd imagine that this is typically done for more important criminals or prisoners of war. That's why Dar-Benn holds an Accuser hammer as Supremor — she's upholding the law.

Kree Law is vaguely structured around the Tablets of Koth — they aren't definitive but they are the main basis.

Questioning your leaders is technically illegal

The worst crime of all is being "un-Kree".

Kree supremacy is big. In the comics it's illegal for Kree to have children with other species. They will tolerate other races if they’re feeling nice about it, but ultimately the Kree come first. This is important in the context of Carol's relationship with Yon-Rogg.

There's racism of blue Kree > non blue Kree in the comics but it doesn't appear to be present in the MCU. Keep it in mind though.

The Kree originally evolved to have blue skin because of low oxygen levels on Hala. Non blue kree came later as a result of mixing with other species. Since making babies with another species has been illegality for probably millenia, non blue Kree are now just another skin tone of the species.

Sexism isn't a thing. Yon-Rogg isn't sexist to Carol he's being racist too her lol

There are groups of noble families with some quite strict rules about battle. If a noble is cornered in battle with no way out they have to drink the special suicide juice or else they are shamed.

The suicide juice is called Odium, which means hate in Latin. If you sip it you go crazy with rage, get super strength and start trying to fight everything until it makes your heart explode

In the comics the Kree have double that of human organs — ie two hearts, four lungs. Brain is probably an exception. They have stronger bones and heavier muscle mass.

Kree blood has healing properties strong enough to bring a species with simple DNA (like humans) back from the dead but it's super duper painful and like 7/8 of the people that have received it have been given some kind of amnesia afterwards

Carol was one of those humans lol rip queen

Apparently the amnesia thing isn't even hard to do? In Agents of Shield a Kree had a tiny little hammer and he'd slap people with it and they'd loose their memories (I doubt that Carol was slapped with a tiny hammer but you never know this might help you)

Propaganda art - there are some gorgeous statues and murals in the Captain Marvel concept art.

Fashion is generally dark. Black, grey and brown for most people. It's not too complicated. White appears to be for underclothes/sleeping wear.

Well it's not too complicated unless you are the Supremor. Remember, Dar-Benn is succeeding the position from their idea of god. She's dressed to the tens and stands out the most from literally everyone. Her stuff is more detailed and metallic and she's wearing a lot more jewellery.

Also notice how Dar-Benn changes outfits literally every ten minutes. I need Marvel to stop killing all the cunty villains because I deserved to study her entire wardrobe thank you very much

A few Kree women (including Carol) have the style of one side being braided and the other let down.

The Kree are encouraged to experiment with as many genders as possible

So technically Carol Danvers lesbian sex canon

Some people grow babies in big tanks. Why? To make them strong or something idk. Carol's comic half sister was born in a big tank bc they wanted her to be strong asf to serve as an Accuser

Swear words — I only know da'st. No idea what it means

They don't have a word for candy </3

Normal space currency is called credits. Kree currency is called kreedits. If that's not the funniest fucking thing ever I don't know what is.

Kree names are "your name-family name". Eg Yon-Roggs given name is Yon, but his surname is Rogg. His daughters name is Una-Rogg.

You generally don't separate the name. Yon-Roggs name isn't Yon, it's Yon-Rogg. Obviously there's exceptions, but that's the general naming rule. It wouldn't be outright wrong to call him Yon, it would just be uncommon and slightly weird.

The Kree have beef with every species ever. They had multiple wars with the Asgardians and the Xandarians.

I've probably missed something lol

Anyways: Arab.org daily click to help Palestine 🍉

#marvels-meme #not a meme #marvel #mcu #the marvels #marvel cinematic universe #captain marvel #carol danvers #worldbuilding #actually canon!#captain marvel (2019)#the marvels (2019)#kree marvel #mcu kree #dar-benn #yon-rogg #its 1 am yay...

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i-smoke-chapstick · 5 months

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Okay I think I’ve finally come up with a plot for that jervis story I was telling you about. This is pretty long- I’m sorry 😭

Basically could follow the same plots as the ‘come on Eileen’ story with an age gap but obv themed for Jervis’s character. For the sake of everything, since this could be already dark-ish, instead of Alice being his sister, she’s his coworker. Very similar story tied with the btas version. Anyways continuing that, let’s say reader is Jim and Barbara’s kid all the way from episode 1 when they were still in there couple era (I miss it 😔). Jim had custody over reader when Barbara was sent to Arkham but once she’s out and running the sirens club, her and Jim come to an agreement for the sake of the reader to co-parent. Reader is about 10-13 during that time and then jumping to like season 3 with jervis being introduced, reader is around 17-19 (I’m not sure if this is the realistic time jump but whatever). During the first episode with how Barbara introduces tabby to jervis, imagine that same scenario but with reader also present. Jervis realizes how much reader reminds him of the book version of Alice with their curiosity, ambition, etc. I’d like to imagine Barbara finds it cute in a way similar with that one fix you did when jervis was leaving stuff for the reader while tabby is like “Stay away from the baby 😡”.

Now when Alice gets killed, we know jervis makes him go through all these games of killing and stuff and then he has to choose the one he loves. Instead of Val, it’s reader. As much as Jervis doesn’t want to hurt his current crush, he tries to be nicer about it and shoots them where the bullet won’t damage them as bad?? Idk where else I’m goin with this lol. I’ll let you come up with whatever else you wanna do. Be creative if you’d like.

I’d say basically it follows the plot of season 3 but without Alice and reader is present.

Thank you Cupid 🙏🖤

'DON'T BLAME ME, [PART ONE]

-GOTHAM!JERVIS TETCH X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Everything's always the same in Gotham. Hard to imagine things changing.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!jervis x female reader. SLOW BURN!!! Not sure how many chapters this will be yet! LOTS OF PLOT SET-UP!! AGE GAP ROMANCE! (reader is Jim and Barbara's daughter) Readers got trauma. Reader's also a cynic and dissociating. She fell first, he fell harder. Writing this kind of artistically and as character studies for everyone. Jervis being an obsessive freak, per usual. Jervis and reader are soulmates, not just in his head but in real life! More about reader is revealed as the story goes on. I'm taking canon out back and beating it with a stick until it stops twitching.

⋆ tag list (tell me if you want to be removed!) @adalwolfgang @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @honestmrdual @moonlightnyx

⋆ 'PART ONE, - 'PART TWO, - ‘PART THREE, - ‘PART FOUR, - ‘PART FIVE, - ‘PART SIX, - 'PART SEVEN, - 'PART EIGHT, - 'PART NINE, -'PART TEN, - 'PART ELEVEN, - 'PART TWELVE, - 'PART THIRTEEN, - 'PART FOURTEEN,

Special thanks to @adalwolfgang for giving me the idea for this fic <3 really really excited to make this multichapter !!

♫ “Echoes of your name inside my mind / Halo, hiding my obsession.” Don't Blame Me by Taylor Swift

You feel like your ten again, staring into space, watching the passerby's from inside a Gala. You're mother used to take you there, when you're dad wasn't available.

You sometimes miss it, even though you used to complain. You hated just sitting there, hours on end, seeing rich people dance; like there weren't people being murdered on the street two blocks down. Maybe you took after your father in that aspect. It was a curse.

Your mom used to do your hair. You remember the way she finger-twirled your curls, gasping as she looked in the mirror. Eyes wide, she always said the same thing.

"Look at you, you're gorgeous!" You'd laugh and hit her on the shoulder, young and innocent. Sometimes, you'd make a mess of her lipsticks and bronzer. You'd try on her dresses which were far too tall for your young stature.

The sound of yelling rips you away from your thoughts.

This place isn't a gala. It's a club. And you didn't get ready with your mom, you got ready in the morning, waking up alone in your dads house.

You watch the two men argue from across the bar. You're cradling a drink; unsure what to do with it. Selina had stole it for you, somehow. You didn't ask questions anymore. You'd known her since you were eleven and she was eight. You didn't really like to drink. She knew that. You don't know where she ran off too.

Mindlessly stirring your glass in your palm, you can't help but squint under the bright blue lights. This place...it's not your first choice of where you'd like to be right now. Never is.

You hear a feminine voice calling you to the front of the club, and you can already guess who it is. You haven't seen her in a little over a week, not that it matters.

You decide to down your drink anyway. Who cares.

Pushing your way through the crowds of Gothamites, you notice the stage light up. Your mother and Tabitha stand in grand dresses. Tabitha's resting, one arm on the bar, looking effectively bored out of her mind. Your mother, on the contrary, looks utterly pleased. You fight the urge to snort.

There's a man on the stage. Long hair, cat-like smile. Your eyes follow the contours of his cheek bones. He's spouting something about waking up from an animal-identity. You're frankly lost, staring into his dark eyes. They look pitch black.

Sounds of clapping arise from the back. You simply suck your teeth. Someone new comes into the club everyday with a different act. This guy certainly wasn't any different.

"A magician? Really?" Tabitha asks, interrupting your thoughts. She sounds displeased and confounded, unsure what to make of Barbara's smile.

"Hypnotist." Your mom answers, correcting her. Ah, so thats what he is. You think. Couldn't hypnotize himself to have a better act? You almost make yourself laugh. Barbara mistakes it for agreeance.

"See! I like him! Y/N likes him!" Barbara chimes, smile lighting up to be a bit more genuine at your laugh. "Like mother like daughter. Plus, the place is packed. Be happy." She waves her drink around. Tabitha still looks peeved.

You want to correct her, but the words 'like mother like daughter' make bile rise in your throat. You don't speak.

"Just a taste, ladies and gentlemen." The man purrs, pulling your attention to him. That dark stare of his never once leaves the crowd. "But now...let us venture into something more arcane."

His eyes drift to you in the crowd, and it feels like a jolt of electricity. You wonder if he feels it too. He must have, since he cocks his head, pausing in his words for a little too long. His brows furrow, until the crowd begins to murmur. It's awfully intense.

You tear your gaze away to look at your mom, wondering if she was who he was looking at instead. It would certainly make more sense, given they must've been around the same age. But as soon as your gaze leaves his, the man clears his throat, and goes right back to speaking.

"The hell was that?" Tabitha whispers to me, and my mind goes blank.

"...No clue."

We watch the rest of the act, intrigued. He makes a man stand on the back of a chair, which definitely does not obey the laws of physics whatsoever. I can see why some people might find this amusing.

Your mom does bring up a good question though.

"So you could get him to do anything you wanted?" She asks, abet too excitedly. You want to roll your eyes. When you were younger, she would've made fun of this guy with you.

The man looks between the two of us, and you squint your eyes.

"Did you have something in mind, Ms. Kean?" He asks, and her gaze darkens. You feel a little sick.

As the act finishes, the man takes one too many bows, but the crowd eats it up. That blinding blue light still bounces off his face. Something about it is...unsettling. You notice it more as he stalks towards the three of you.

"Very impressive, Mr. Tetch." Your mom compliments. Mr. Tetch, huh. Well, you finally have a name for the man. "You have quite the gift. But you didn't answer my question. Can you make people do anything you tell them to do?" She speaks, slowly. Mr. Tetch looks flattered at the praise.

He clicks his tongue. "Only things they secretly wish to do," he remarks, eyes falling on me once more. "It's surprising what people will wish for," His eye contact remains on you, voice getting quieter. "Secretly. Deep down." He repeats.

Your mother makes a sound akin to a pleased hum. Tabitha looks between the man and you, and she looks less than amused.

"True," Tabitha speaks, pushing you to the side a bit. You watch as his gaze leaves yours, and snaps up to her. There's a ghost of a scowl on both of their faces that suddenly makes you confused. "You must be a very popular man."

She takes a swig out of her drink as she says the words, a bit sarcastically. Mr. Tetch, or whatever his name is, doesn't falter in his resolve. He instead offers a polite chuckle.

"Oh, I wish. Parties like this help pave my way, so, thank you."

"And you're new to Gotham?" Your mom asks.

"Yes...just arrived from up north."

"You have a place to stay?" Tabitha asks, head cocked. You begin to feel a bit embarrassed, heat rising in your clothes. They're asking the guy way too many questions. And he's a new comer. Poor man probably doesn't know a thing.

Before the man can answer, you butt in.

"Let the man breathe." You huff, and all three of them look at you in unison. Eyes-narrowed on you, the man blinks. Barbara looks at you, surprised, and Tabitha glares daggers.

Silence surrounds the four of you, and you shiver uncomfortably.

"Just saying." You mumble. Barbara raises an eyebrow.

"You'll have to excuse her. This is my daughter, Y/N."

Jervis's face lights up in realization.

"Ah, I see." He remarks, taking your hand. Tabitha instinctively steps close, watching the way he takes it. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Y/N."

"Thank you," You say, softly, looking into his eyes. It really does feel like time stops. You can understand why people are hypnotized by him.

Tabitha finally steps in between you two, as Barbara watches the interaction with vague intrigue. He drops your hand with some reluctance. You don't blame him.

"I think you should get going." Tabitha says, firm. The man simply nods.

"Very well. Enjoy your night." He speaks. "Ms. Kean, Ms. Y/N." He bids one last nod of goodbye, before turning on his heel.

#gotham #x reader #gotham x reader #batman #batman rogues #batman rouges gallery #batman x reader #gotham villains x reader #dc comics #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch x reader imagine #mad hatter x reader #gotham mad hatter #the mad hatter dc #the mad hatter #fic series

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afternoonsociety · 2 years

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*ೃ༄ The Sound of Two Different Hearts - Part One - Neteyam x Human!Fem!Reader

warnings: injuries, blood, mentions the word suicide mission but nothing more on that topic, fluff, neteyam slowly falling for the reader (if you find my more triggers/ warnings pls let me know)

This is based of a dream I had, so some things are probably not canon. Also I got carried away with this, idk if the next parts will be as long as this one. English is not my first language.

word count: 4.9k

synopsis: Y/N grew up with her foster brother Miles in Pandora, in the remains of Hell's Gate. Since Norm and the other scientists can't fully prepare them for life on the other planet, he asked his old friend Jake Sully for a favor. Jake took them in to teach them how to survive in the woods. Quickly a friendship developed between the kids. Especially between Jake's oldest son Neteyam and Y/N. Over the years, the bond between the two grew stronger and stronger. Until the time when the two wondered where their friendship would lead them. Because they both have the same secret. Their feelings for each other. Which developed to the point where they didn't know if they'd rather be more than friends, even though they were two different species.

— Part One — Part Two — Part Three — Part Four —

Read it also on: ao3 // wattpad

Earth was dying and the only solution to save humanity was to relocate the inhabitants. They found a planet similar to Earth, which was „only“ five years away and had the name Pandora. However, not everything went as initially hoped. As the people have always been, they did everything in their power to take over the planet and did not stop at doing so with violence. Thus it came to a war between the humans, who were also called sky people, and the natives of Pandora, the Na'vi. Many living beings had to die during the conflict. There were many losses on both sides. Still, the humans did not understand that they were the ones in the wrong.

Jake Sully a former human and now Na'vi led the natives of the planet as the Toruk Makto to victory and forced the humans to return to their home planet. Only a few humans were allowed to stay. They were the peaceful ones among the monsters. They only wanted to explore further the nature and the ways of life and not to destroy. Furthermore, those who were still too young or too weak to return to Earth were allowed to stay. Among these people were Spider and Y/N. They were both too young at the time. The chances of survival to send them back to earth were very low. So they were allowed to stay, but only under the condition to live peacefully with the inhabitants of Pandora and to take only what they needed to survive and no more.

Y/N grew up together with Spider, whose real name was Miles, in the remains of Hell's Gate. The scientists still living there, like Norm, then took on the parental role of the two and taught them everything - at least what they had already researched. It was exhausting for everyone on site, since no one was prepared to babysit for life and they were actually here for a completely different reason. Nonetheless, they all took loving care of the two children and made it possible for them to have a reasonably safe childhood. Everything was safe in the lab, but what happened outside in the wilds of Pandora they were not able to prepare them for, which is why Norm asked his old friend Jake for help.

Jake now had a family of his own, and the children he had with Neytiri were the same age as the two human children. And to do a favor to his friend, Jake allowed the children to stay with him to teach them how to survive in the woods. He kept referring to them as stray cats that would drop by every now and then and then wander off again. They played and romped with the young Sully's and a friendship quickly developed between all of them. Neytiri was not amused by the whole situation, she wanted the humans to finally leave their home planet, because they knew nothing but greed and destruction. Jake tried to calm her down by telling her that he would make sure that this would never happen again and that he would make sure that the bond between them would not be too strong.

Over the years, however, the bond between the two species grew closer and closer, and Y/N and Spider became something like "pseudo Na'vi," as Mary, another scientist, called them. They learned some of the customs of the Omatikaya, how to hunt and defend themselves, how to make weapons and jewelry, and also what herbs could be made into medicine. The young Y/N's favorite topic, however, was the flora and fauna of Pandora's forests. She also enjoyed adventures with the Sully children and Miles, but preferred the quiet of the forest. She is the complete opposite of Spider, while she roamed inquisitively, he preferred to create chaos together with Lo'ak.

Kiri and Y/N had a special friendship. They would often talk for hours about whatever was on their minds. About things from the human world, which Kiri wanted to know more about because of her mother Grace and about the Na'vi world, if Y/N wanted to know more about the All-Mother Eywa or had problems with the language again. The other Omatikaya also became more open to her over time. They trusted each other because she had proven that she was not like the other Sky People and was respectful of their culture.

Another favorite activity of hers is to do a little something with Tuk. She was like a little sister to her, even though they were both the same height. No matter if they played together or were looking for beautiful stones and crystals in the rivers to make beads out of them later. It was always fun.

The young woman was of a relaxed nature and loved to listen to what other people had to tell her. But today she had once again been persuaded to go on another suicide mission with Lo'ak and Spider. For pure safety reasons, Neteyam, Jake's oldest son, also came along today, so that no one would get into trouble and no one would really die.

Spider and her both put on their masks and turned on their exopacks at their hips. They told Norm goodbye and that they would both be home for dinner. She gave her foster father one last hug goodbye and said, "I'll watch Spider. Don't worry he'll be back home in one piece." Norm could only laugh at this comment and looked at the boy in the doorway, who already had a slightly impatient expression on his face. He patted them both affectionately on the back and then flipped the switch to the gate to the outside.

Today's plan was to go to the Hallelujah Mountains to fly with the Ikrans to an old Sky People base. This place was off limits according to Jake, of course, but as Lo'ak used to say, "He's just exaggerating," and who wanted to listen to Jake anyway? Lo'ak and Spider at least didn't, but Neteyam did, which is why he decided to come along.

It took a while for the two to fight their way through the embankment and arrive at the Omatikaya's hometree. There Lo'ak already welcomed them. " Well there you are at last. I've been waiting for you guys for ages" He pushed his way between the two as they walked and put his arms around their shoulders. "Neteyam, the buzzkill is already waiting at the other end. Come!" With that, he let go of the two of them and ran ahead to his older brother. When Nete appeared in their field of vision, she waved at him and called his name. "Nete, hey!" He turned in the direction from where the voice rang out and started smiling right away, running towards her to wrap her in his arms. The two of them had a special relationship too.She pressed her head against his stomach as they hugged. Nete then understood her gesture and hugged her tighter. "I missed you too, even though we just saw each other yesterday," he murmured softly so his other friends wouldn't hear what he said to her. However, the scene was not spared from the comments of the two skxawngs. "Find a hut!" "No one can stand to watch this!"

Y/N shot back in response. "At least I have something going on and don't stare at the people I like from afar because I'm too shy to approach them" The statement went straight to the ego of the two. Miles pressed his lips together in a thin line and Lo'ak stood with his eyes lowered to the ground, stroking the back of his head with his hand in shame. Even though the comment wasn't directly aimed at Neteyam, his body still stiffened and his ears automatically laid back. He suddenly felt warm as Y/N let go of him and looked up at him with a sly smile. He also let out a small laugh and asked the others, "Do you want to go now? Or are you guys just going to stand here stupid all day?"

The boys regained their composure and set off to finally get going. On the way to the mountains, they passed a river that they had to cross. The river itself was relatively deep but there were enough stones in the water to cross it safely. Nevertheless, Neteyam was worried about Y/N. And offered her to carry her. She reassured him, however, and instead took his finger in her hand to signal to him that she took his concern for her seriously. Because of the size difference, his hand was at least twotimes bigger than hers and she could barely get her hand around it to really hold on, so she always closed her hand around one of his long fingers. He liked the size difference, he thought it was almost cute that he could just carry her around all the time like Tuktirey. She's almost as tall as a small Na'vi child. Lo'ak also liked to take advantage of this difference, abusing Y/N's head as an arm rest when they stood side by side. Nete, on the other hand, did not like this at all and whenever he noticed his little brother resting his arm on her again, he said that it was humiliating and that he should stop. However, Lo'ak did not listen to his brother and he had to experience the consequence on his own body, when Neteyam hit him on the back of the head.

Since it was the first time for her to go to the Hallelujah Mountains, she was often distracted by new plants she had never seen before. She stopped one more time to observe a huge flower that had large pinkish purple leaves and in its center, what looked like small turquoise feelers that moved on their own. The feelers also seemed to sense her presence and were now moving in her direction. Y/N knelt on the ground and the first thought that crossed her mind was to reach out to the plant. The small antennae-like formations immediately wrapped themselves around her hand. It tickled and she began to giggle. She was mesmerized again, for what she had heard from Norm, there were no such plants on earth that seemed to have a mind of their own. She pulled her hand back to herself and reached directly into her satchel and pulled out a small black notebook in which she entered all of her new discoveries. It was a birthday present from Max for her last birthday.

As if in her own world, she didn't even notice that the others had already run ahead and were almost out of sight. Spider and Lo'ak had already reached the end of the forest and the cliffs where the roots grew that served as a connection to the mountains. Only Neteyam noticed that one person from the small group was missing. He stopped abruptly when he noticed this and turned in all directions to catch sight of the small human somewhere. When he saw the bordeaux shirt among the flowers, he immediately knew what was going on. Y/N had once again been distracted by her curiosity. He walked back a little bit. She didn't notice him until his huge shadow fell in over her. "Why did I know I'd probably find you here?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. She turned to face him, squinting her eyes as the sun blinded her. "You know me all too well, don't you? You can go on back to the others. I'll be done here in a minute, you don't have to wait."

The young Na'vi refused to be talked into it, because after all, Y/N was important to him, and besides, his father would skin him alive if he didn't bring her back to Norm. Nete knew she was a strong fighter for a human, but still she is a human and weaker and smaller than most animals in the woods. And if he is honest with himself, he is in a way interested in what she wrote down in her little book and what else she had to say about her new discovery. He liked to watch her eyes grow and sparkle when she learned something new or when he and his siblings told her a story.

And her smile, which always danced on her lips, was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even more breathtaking than the sky mountains, even more beautiful than the luminous plants at night, and even more enchanting than Vitraya Ramunong, the tree of souls he had once seen at a ceremony.

Sometimes he wondered if she found him as fascinating. He was, after all, a Na'vi, an inhabitant of Pandora. Exactly what she loved to learn about. Moreover, she also saw him as his own person. Not, like all the others as Neteyam, the son of the great Toruk Makto, the next Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, the oldest Sully boy, the great warrior who killed a sturmbeest with one shot during his first great hunt. No, she saw in him the loyal, cautious and thoughtful young man who always put his own feelings and needs second, preferring to take care of his family. Not like his father, who saw him as a soldier, as the golden, perfect son. The way Jake wanted him to be. She was the first person to ask him how he was doing when he was having a bad day and if he wanted to talk about it. She was always so accommodating to him. He didn't know why such a wonderful person would bother to make time for him. Y/N was a perfect creature in his eyes. How could anyone not like her? When he laid in his bed at night, he thanked Eywa over and over again for letting him get to know her. And when he thought about her in his sleepless nights, sometimes the thought crossed his mind if he liked her more than just a friend. But he always banished this thought quickly. Y/N was not a Na'vi like him and he was not human, that would never be a good match. Spider was a human, her and him would fit together perfectly.

His own thought alone made him angry, almost jealous. Just like now, when he was just thinking about it again. His face contorted and he furrowed his eyebrows. Only Y/N's voice and her waving hand in front of his body pulled him out of his imaginations. "What's the matter with you? Is everything okay?" There it was again. The little questions about how he was doing. He just shook his head to get out of the trance and reached out his hand to help her up.

"Come on, let's go," he replied as the human girl pulled herself together. She didn't understand why he suddenly radiated such a strange aura. Just a few seconds before everything was fine and now he was acting like he was possessed by something. Y/N thought that maybe he was just annoyed, after all he had surely imagined his day differently. Neteyam walked with long steps in front of Y/N, so that she could hardly follow and had to walk three steps faster to keep up. Arriving at the roots, they continued on their way. While Miles and Lo'ak jumped like small children from root to root and hardly paid attention to the fact that they could possibly fall several miles into the depth or into their death.

Y/N, on the other hand, hesitated for a moment to even set foot on the moss-covered root. Maybe it was not such a good idea to come along. Would it have been better to stay with the clan? And rather to help Kiri with whatever she was doing? What would happen if she slipped? She would hardly survive it and dying was clearly not an option for her at her young age. Y/N didn't know what else to think, but a big hand on her shoulder grounded her back into the here and now.

"I'm going to stay behind you. You don't have to be afraid. Go real slow" Nete reassured her. "Thank you, thank you for alwasy helping me" Y/N cheeks were blushing now too just like Neteyam earlier when they hugged. The Na'vi in front of her interpreted this as just a sign of nervousness and excitement, it was her first time balancing at such a height without a ground under her. Slowly but surely she put her foot down. She took few steps and quickly realized that she didn't need to be afraid. The moss was relatively dry, as it hadn't rained in days. In addition, the wooden root seemed larger than she first thought.

She turned to her friend and smiled at him. "It's not as bad as I thought!" The other two boys stopped from a distance and called over. " Come on, now. The Ikrans are already waiting for us!" Neteyam walked right behind her, for once taking small steps to make sure she put one foot in front of the other safely. He was sure that she would make it without him, but the red discoloration on her face and the beads of sweat that slowly formed under her mask made him kinda worry.

Arrived at the mountains now began another hurdle. The climbing. She was not a newcomer to the subject but the path just now had already taken some of her strength. Lo'ak and his big brother jumped up with ease and grabbed hold of the stone outcroppings. Miles was still waiting below with Y/N. "Come on I'll help you up" he said, crouching down and carefully stretching his arms out in front of him with his hands on top of each other. He helped her with the robber ladder to get a good head start. She put her foot in his hand and with momentum Miles went up from his knees and Y/N grabbed hold of the nearest rock.

Finally reaching the top, the small group was already a little out of breath. This didn't last long because the Irkans started to screech when they noticed the presence in their territory. Y/N was startled, it was not new for her to see Ikrans up close, but so many at once and then in their territory? That was a little scary at first. She didn't know how they would react if she kept moving, but as she looked to her foster brother who kept walking in a crouched state, Y/N did too. If Miles didn't need to be afraid as a human, neither did she. Rising to her feet, she only now noticed the remarkable view.

It was a totally different perspective of Pandora. From here, you could see the whole planet. You could even see one end of the forest and the beginning of the sea. It was simply breathtaking and she regretted not taking her camera with her. The Ikrans themselves were a stunning view from up close. It was colorful and noisy. A completely different world.

The two brothers called for their Ikrans with a very specific call that has been used by the natives for centuries. The brightly colored animals flew towards them at full speed, slowing down only when their claws began to touch the ground. Lo'ak was the first to walk up to his Ikran and stroke it over its head. He connected with his braid to the Ikran and straddled it. Spider followed as the boy with the shorter braids extended his hand to him. Neteyam followed next and greeted it as well with a touch to its neck. Then he mounted his beastly companion and petted him one more time.

Y/N followed him and climbed on the huge winged creature. They flew over the vast expanses of nature for some time until an a tiny building could be spotted from far away. It was an old camp of the Sky People, which had already fallen down over the years and due to the war. The group landed and immediately jumped off to explore the area. Miles and Y/N now saw another extent of the greed and destruction of their own species. The young woman's stomach churned at the sight and she felt like she was about to throw up. She could never have imagined what this place must have looked like a decade ago. She was ashamed of her kind. Was it so hard not to destroy what was not theirs? Couldn't they have approached the matter more diplomatically? Most of all, she felt sorry for the natives - what terrible things they had to endure. They lived here in peace and then came the horrors in spaceships. A tear ran down her cheek at the thought.

`Teyam went into the old shattered metal building first, through a broken window, to make sure there were no dangers inside. He then burst open the door from the inside and let the three others in. Lo'ak and the human boy were intrigued in the things left here. In the building there were still old plans left by the humans, strategically showing how it was simplest to drive out the natives and cut down the forests to get to the precious goods under the soil. Theses things were probably lying around there just as they had been 15 years ago. The older Na'vi was not interested in that, so he stood at the door and watched the scenery in front of him. Y/N only got worse the rest of the time. She felt the pure pain. The pain of the fallen and breathing even under the mask was difficult for her. "I-I have to get out of here," she said in an irritated tone and sped forward to the entrance. Miles turned to her and looked at her with a confused look, but she didn't notice and continued to run outside. Nete watched her come out of the building. "Are you all right?" He raised his hand to try to touch her, but she just turned away from him. "Yeah yeah, I just need to get out of here for a minute, this is all too much for me."

He noticed that she didn't let herself be diverted from her plans, and he let her off on her own. "Don't run so far away, though, will you? We don't know if there are any dangerous animals around.“ Her head went on autopilot and she ran and ran and ran. Y/N didn't even pay attention to how far away she was from the abandoned camp. She decided to stop after another two minutes of running. She put her hands together behind her head and let out a long tearful sigh. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. She wanted to deny it, but the evidence was right in front of her. It was just like the stories Norm and Jake told her, but personally seeing the aftermath only made the tales worse. When she came back down, she decided to go back, but something was different. She didn't even know exactly where she was at first. She just went into the depths of the forest without paying attention to anything.

And then there was this loud cracking sound. Her whole body froze. She hoped it was just the others checking on her. But her hope was quickly shattered when she saw that it was not her friends, but a large black creature. A thanator. One of the most dangerous predators in the Pandoran wilderness. She wanted to scream, but couldn't and her body decided to flee. Y/N started running through the embankment, over rocks and roots sticking out of the ground. Fortunately, she did not fall, so she only ran faster. As far as her feet could carry her. In her life-and-death run, she spotted a hollowed-out tree trunk that offered a possible hiding place. She changed direction and ran to it, crawling into one of the openings.

Her heart was beating like crazy in her chest. Supposedly safe in her hiding place, she tried to catch her breath and regulate it so she wouldn't give herself away to the Predator. She heard the loud footsteps circling her and prayed to Eywa to spare her, but it was probably too late for that. She clearly should have stayed home.

The footsteps grew quieter to the point where they could no longer be heard at all. Y/N thought the thanator had lost her trail and was now looking for a new victim. But this was not the case, as she thought the area was clear, she crawled to the opening and stuck her head out to make sure. Suddenly a claw came at her from above with and almost caught her. In the last second she could pull her head back. Now she was trapped. No one else was near her and calling for help would probably only make the animal more aggressive. The claw now struck another time and broke through the tree trunk. Splinters fell in all directions and Y/N didn't know what to do. She had to look death in the eye. On all fours she now scrambled in the other direction to escape as fast as possible. Just when she managed to flee from her prison and was standing on her two feet again, the thanator lunged again and caught her with its claws on her back. She cried out loudly in pain and fell to the ground with a jolt. Something in her body, in her head, however, told her that it wasn't time to give up yet. Despite the pain and the blood running down her back, she ran. The most important thing was to get out of here.

She ran, hoping to arrive at the old base. After some time, she spotted the building and screamed for her life. Neteyam saw Y/N sprinting in his direction and the next thing he noticed was a Thanator chasing her. "Inside, Nete run inside and hide!" she screamed one more time. As she crossed the threshold, her legs gave way as well and she crawled under a table with the others. Neteyam quickly locked the door, but forgot about the broken window through which he entered in the first place. The thanator struggled to squeeze through the pane and cut themself several times on the sharp shards of glass. This did not stop it from trying further, however. "You're hurt," Lo'ak stated, touching the fresh wound on Y/N's back. She hissed in pain and he quickly withdrew his hand. Neteyam in the meantime had drawn his bow from his back and did the only thing he could think of at the moment. He reached for an arrow from his quiver and aimed with precision at the head of the beast. Since the first arrow alone didn't reach through the animal's thick skull, he tried another time and, with a hiss and flattened ears, this time aimed for the neck. With a swing, he pulled the arrow back and let it go. This time he had managed to successfully eliminate the danger. The black beast slumped in on itself and then hung motionless between the window. Neteyam breathed heavily, adrenaline surged through his veins and his facial expression settled down. His ears perked up when he heard Y/N's painful whimpering.

He rushed towards her and crouched down on eyelevel. She was sweating heavily and cried. "What happened?" `Teyam could only ask. Miles had panicked himself and was already imagining the telling off he would receive when they got back home. "I-I just wanted to get out of here for a minute b-because everything was getting to be too much for me a-and then all of a sudden this thing came. I tried to hide, but it didn't work, and then-n I was attacked," she let out through her tears, clinging to Neteyam. He wanted to hug her tightly, but the wound prevented him from doing so. "I told you it was a stupid idea to come here, Lo'ak."

"How could I have known that a thanator would show up here and attack us?"

"Dad, told you this area was off limits. Can't you listen for once?"

"That's as much your fault as it is mine and Miles. You could have tried to stop us from coming here or at least stopped Y/N from running away."

Both brothers started arguing and it looked like it wouldn't stop for a long time. Spider interrupted them both worried about his foster sister. " I don't give a shit who's to blame for this whole thing right now. Y/N is hurt and needs help right now. Get over yourselves, you two thick heads." Neteyam turned away from his younger brother with a snarl and shook his head. He took the still crying Y/N into his arms and tried to calm her down. "It's okay, it's going to be okay. We'll take you to my grandmother Mo'at now and I'm sure she'll help you. I promise."

"I just want to go home, `Teyam" she replied, stroking his cheek. They did not hesitate to immediately make their way to the Ikrans. The older Na'vi first put Y/N on and then connected himself. The Ikran took off with a screech and they went on their way home, as he had promised her.

#Avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #atwow #atwow x reader #Neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #Kiri x platonic!reader #neteyam imagine #Neteyam Imagines #avatar fanfiction #Miles Socorro x platonic!reader #Neytiri #jake sully #atwow Imagines

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 7 months

Text

Home. - Fluffy Ending (not canon) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 2.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: none. Tags: you/your pronouns, reconnecting with family, wedding guests, second chance romance, time skip. a/n: not proofread. I didn't like the way I wrote this ending but I figured I should share it either way. It's too fluffy/forced for my taste. The actual alt ending will be better. ALSO: Was listening to Chemical by Post Malone on repeat while writing this. Idk if you wanna do that too while reading...

[MASTERLIST]

You're twenty-eight, he's twenty-nine.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t step a foot back in Manc, not even if cows flew!

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t keep in contact with anyone, not even if someone died!

(Which your father did. Thank fuck.)

You broke those promises so many times.

You were unable to keep away, though you tried…

It’s your own fault, really.

You stalk your old friends and family on Facebook sometimes.

Other times you check the local news.

Others you check the obituary and marriage sections on the news.

You beat yourself over it every time. Even though seeing the lack of changes through your cyberstalking and the news made you feel immense relief, you still ended up closing the pages on your browser with more aggression than you should and sulking in your bed.

And yet, you still go and do it again a few weeks later.

And then another few weeks later.

It’s pathetic, really, but maybe it provides you some comfort. Maybe helps you sleep at night.

You should’ve figured out that someone would have made you eventually.

I mean, naming your blank Facebook profile after the one mean neighbor you had, who called the police on you and your mates once for being too loud while hanging out in the street, and died years ago? Yeah, they’d make you eventually.

Luckily for you, it was Olly who did.

All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.

Maybe… Maybe you should follow his advice.

It’s been a decade.

Your mum deserves at least a letter to let her know you’re still alive, that you’re healthy, happy, and safe. She’s owed that much…

It was very strange to be inside your childhood home after almost eleven years.

Four days ago, your mum had openly sobbed as she threw her arms around you, and you had found yourself sobbed with her, both of you falling to your knees at the front door.

She held your face so gingerly and kissed your forehead so many times, her face severely more aged than the last time you had seen her.

The letter you had sent her 8 months before was 23 pages long, a bulk so large you sent them unfolded and stapled together inside a manila envelope rather than folded neatly into a standard one, and had detailed everything you figured she should learn about your life.

Where you went.

What you did.

Who you did it with.

How you felt.

What you learned.

How you changed.

You apologized for running away, for worrying her.

You assured her you loved her and missed her.

You asked, tentatively, if she could find a way to let you be a bit more present.

You reiterated you wanted to remain living where you were in Scotland… but that you could allow yourself to be her daughter again if she so wanted it.

You know she cried reading it. Hell, you cried writing it…

You didn’t expect anything, you didn’t want to cause her any more grief by coming barrelling back into her life. She’s your mother, you didn’t want to manipulate her. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t answer for a few weeks…

But then her letter came. A simple half-a-page response that said, in no uncertain terms, that she missed you, that you were always welcome in her home and her heart, and she wanted to have her little girl back.

It all culminated in today.

Adjusting your red gown with one hand, you walk up the aisle, the other holding your 10-month-old daughter who’s clad in a pale yellow tulle dress. She’s kept flush to your chest, her chubby legs wrapped around your hip.

You and your mum find a spot near the middle and sit down, though you scoot yourself as far on the pew as you can, making sure that you can step off to the side just in case Evelyn starts fussing. Though you doubt she will.

The ceremony is being held in the middle of the afternoon and she has been calm and sleepy this whole time, softly dozing off in your arms, her little face nuzzling to your neck, since it’s close to her nap time.

You sit Evie down on your lap and place a hand on the back of her head while you and your mum speak softly, still waiting for the wedding ceremony to start.

You still can’t believe that you’re here…

Wythenshawe still looks as crappy as ever, you still know the streets like the back of your hand, though a lot of it has changed, shops went out and into business, and people moved away.

You met up with your old mates at your local just a couple of nights ago, and after a lot of tears and some drinking, you gossiped all night about your lives and everyone else’s.

In a way, it feels like you never left…

You were so afraid that they would hold a grudge at you for leaving, for not staying in touch… But they never did. You were welcomed with open arms…

It’s… nice.

The ceremony doesn’t take long to start.

You nearly cry at the sight of Emily in her wedding dress, having deemed her a close friend for the better time of your formative years. And Olly, as emotionally detached as he tries to pretend himself to be, cries at the sight of his bride.

The ceremony is long and a bit tedious, as most weddings tend to be, but you’re still happy to be there… Happy to be back.

It’s nearly 45 minutes into the ceremony when Evie starts fussing a bit. You’re quick to take the nappy bag onto your shoulder and rush out of the church while shooting some apologetic looks to the guests around.

Once outside, you find shade under a tree and begin to bounce Evie a bit, knowing she isn’t fussing because of her diaper or hunger, but rather from the fact she’s teething.

One hand balances the infant, the other sets down the nappy bag on a low wall and you begin rummaging for the teething ring toy amidst the pockets. When you find it, you give it to her, which she gladly takes, though it doesn’t do much for her pain, only quieting her down a bit by allowing her to bite all over it.

“Shhh… it’s alright, pet…” You whisper to her as you kiss her smooth forehead and nuzzle your nose against the crown of her head.

You keep softly swaying and bouncing with her in your hip, moving about, side to side, while she drools all over the toy, her hands, and your dress as she softly headbutts your chest while chewing.

You’re lucky your dress is a dark enough shade of red and made from a fabric as forgiving as chiffon, so that the wetness will dry quickly and discreetly.

It’s in the midst of your pacing and bouncing the infant on your hip that you spot him.

His pale jawline peppered with a well-trimmed stubble, his blonde hair cut short and hidden under the beige beret, his strong build wrapped in full military dress…

You almost didn’t recognize him…

You leave your bag right where it is and beeline for him before you can stop yourself.

And he makes no motion to move from his resting spot, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and looking right at you like you’re sure he has been doing for the past 15 minutes or so (you wouldn’t put it past him).

“Fuckin’ hell…” You hear yourself saying as you come to stand in front of Simon.

He tosses his cigarette down on the floor and puts it out with his brown boot, blowing the smoke away from your daughter on your hip.

“That how you greet people now?” He retorts while looking down at you through his fluttering eyelashes.

His voice is so much deeper, rough and strong than it used to be… You don’t know how to respond at first, your mouth has gone dry and your brain has blue-screened.

You’ve had dreams about this before… Nightmares too.

You’ve imagined that one day you’d cross paths with him on the street and you’d stumble all over yourself. That he’d ask you how you’ve been or what you’ve done with your life and you’d have nothing to show for it…

You thought you’ve healed from your past, but here comes Simon Riley to indirectly tell you “HA! Think again, dumbass!”.

“You surprised me is all.” You end up saying, your voice carrying a maturity and a strength you didn’t know it could. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Got lucky this coincided with my leave.” He remarks. “Could say the same to you, though.” He adds.

You can’t tell if he meant to offend with that comment. Olly had told you through Facebook that he told Simon about you vanishing off the face of the Earth and that Simon didn’t take it well. You knew he, rightfully so, expected you to stay gone.

“Got back in touch with Olly and the rest of my family.” You remark simply and shrug.

He keeps looking at you with those brown eyes of his, with a certain coldness behind you that forcefully reminds you that this is not the same person you used to know. The boy he was and the man he is are forcefully different people.

“Cute kid.” He adds after a beat of silence as his eyes flit to your daughter who’s still very much in her own world with her teething toy.

“Thanks.” You reply.

This feels awkward. You’re finally standing face to face (more like face-to-chest, goddamn is the man tall) after a whole ten years. Are you even friends? No. But are you acquaintances? Also no. And you have too much of a history to be strangers.

So what are you?

“What’s her name?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“Evie.” You answer. “Evelyn.” You correct yourself before adding. “Evie for short.”

“Hm.” He remarks unemotionally. His eyes flit over you up and down, taking in… everything about you.

You are a confident person, you’d say. You feel good in your own skin. You like your reflection when you see yourself in the mirror. And you feel like a million bucks in this dress, which wraps around your body beautifully, the fabric making you look delicate and soft.

But under his scrutinizing gaze, you feel anything but confident.

So, you take a breath and return the same scrutinizing gaze, up and down, taking in every inch of him, your eyes just as strong and confident as his own. He notices, because of course he does, and he puffs out his chest and raises his chin, to allow you to keep looking at him, showing himself off a bit proudly.

He’s wearing a khaki formal uniform, or full dress as you remember it being called, and although it's been ten years, you still remember some things about all the stuff you investigated about the British Army, so you could keep up with him, impress him with your knowledge.

A brown waist belt with a sash across the right soldier means he’s an Officer… The buttons are gold and shaped like winged parachutes, and he wears a beret instead of a cap. A beige beret to be exact, which means he’s no longer in the Parachute Regiments, who wear maroon ones. There’s a cap badge on the beret and the Excalibur on it tells you one thing: he’s special forces. You don’t remember which one… but you know he’s something big, bad, and important.

“Special Forces.” You muse out loud, showing off what you noticed.

His eyebrows raise, impressed by you, and then he nods. “Somethin’ like that.” He adds.

“Done well for yourself, then.” You add and he nods again and blinks while smirking, as if trying to humbly pat himself on the back for it.

“She have a dad?” Simon asks while shooting Evelyn a look. The words escape his mouth quicker than he wanted and sound a lot more judgemental than he meant for them to.

The way your eyebrows raised at him, the same way they used to when he’d say something bloody stupid as a teen, told him you weren’t pleased and that he had put his foot in his mouth.

“Sorry.” He says though it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. “Came out wrong.” He tells you.

You might have gone ten years apart but you knew Simon like the back of your hand at one point… And you knew sometimes he’d say things aloud when he meant to keep them as thoughts. It’s clearly that’s a habit he still has.

“I know what you meant.” You reply bluntly as you fix your grip on the infant, swiveling her a bit to sit on your other side.

“What’s the answer then? She got a dad?” He probes as he dips his head a bit to the side, his arms hanging by his side as he looks you up and down.

“Aye.” You end up replying, the Scottish word slipping past your lips then you meant for it to. You still speak English with a Manc accent, just like him, but there are little quirks like this one that you’ve adopted after living in Dundee for ten years.

Simon’s eyebrows cock up as well at the sound of Scottish word, and you can tell he finds it odd, but he doesn’t comment. “Where’s he, then?” He retorts. “No ring on your finger.” He adds.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand which is wrapped around your daughter now, the splayed fingers showing a distinct lack of a wedding ring. He sounds just as judgemental. But you don’t let it ruffle your feathers.

“Separated.” You reply maturely. “No ring on yours.” You say and nod toward his own left hand which also lacks a ring.

“Married to the job.” He replies and you can’t help but let out a snort of a chuckle, which makes him chuckle dryly too.

“‘f course you are.” You add in reply.

“Could’ve been married to you.” He retorts with the same casualty of someone saying ‘Nice weather today’.

You scoff and shake your head. “Really?” You add.

“Ye.” He adds. “Had a ring and everythin’.” He quips. “Then Olly told me you ran off into the night.”

You scoff again, mostly out of disbelief, and look away from him, your eyes flittering over the courtyard in front of the church.

The ceremony should be finishing soon enough.

“Dodged a bullet then.” You remark dryly, smiling a bit in amusement.

“You or me?” He retorts and you find your eyes drifting upwards to him again.

For a moment you just both stare at each other in silence…

Your eyes are locked in the same way they used to whenever the two of you were about to throw themselves at one another as teens…

Then, he breaks into a grin, and so do you, the both of you looking away for a moment. His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You’re both amused at the cheekiness of your comment.

“How long are you stayin'?” He asks you once you both glance at each other again.

“Goin’ home on the 26th.” You tell him. “How long’ve you got leave for?”

“‘Till the 27th.” He replies and dips his head to the side a bit.

This is definitely crazy.

You secretly wonder if you’ve gone mad.

A decade has gone by… But there’s no mistaking the electricity in the air.

That light buzzing of goosebumps that prickle at your skin, making the hair in the back of your neck stand… Like lightning is about to strike…

“Take me out to dinner.” You demand abruptly and narrow your eyes at him.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek again in amusement. “Are you askin’ me on a date?” He retorts.

“No. I’m tellin’ you.” You add, watching how his brown eyes swiftly light ablaze with a certain fire you never expected to see after so many years apart.

“Tomorrow?” He suggests.

“Tomorrow.” You add.

“I’ll pick you up at 9.” He adds.

You know damn well that 9 P.M. is too damn late for dinner… But you also know that in reality, your ‘dinner’ will be grabbing Nando’s and cheap beer, and eating in the backseat of his car in that one side road you always used to go to… talking into the night… and probably definitely fucking each other’s brains out.

“Like the good ol’ days.” You remark.

“Mhm.” He adds.

Then, the church doors open and the guests come pouring out, forcing the two of you to separate.

But you can still see the smirk on his lips from afar as you walk off to grab your nappy bag, find your mum, and get ready for the rice toss.

[MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

#home cbf!simon fic #cod fanfic #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #childhood best friends to lovers #cbf #cbf!simon #teenage love #masterlist #time skip #second chance romance

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lost-girl-2021 · 1 year

Text

Imagine part of why Neytiri is so insistent on Spider 'being with his own kind' is because Spider almost died in her arms when he was younger and it scared her so much that she closed herself off from him entirely. ik this doesn't super make sense canon-wise, but . . . idk, deal w it y'all.

Spider was maybe six or seven, barely old enough to go outside with the smallest size mask they had. He was with Lo'ak, Kiri, and Neteyam by the creek, Neytiri supervising from the treeline as she foraged. He was finally getting used to this whole outdoors thing, taking to it all quickly. His spare mask was glinting in the sunlight from the branch he'd hung it off of before joining his friends in the water. It was knee-deep for them, but nearly to his waist. Even though he was the oldest, the other three had already outgrown him.

It didn't feel like they were much bigger, though. After months spent together in the forest, it felt like the Na'vi kids had nearly forgotten he was human. Kiri had started helping him paint stripes on himself and Neteyam had promised to show him how to use a bow for his birthday that year. After a lifetime surrounded by adults in the lab, he was happy to be with his friends.

And then, he fell.

Neteyam had faked a lunge towards him and he'd tripped over a log in the water, falling head over heels into the currant. It wasn't bad at all standing up, but he was disoriented and the water was murky from all the mud they'd kicked up in their playing. His body was being sent further down the creek and it was suddenly too deep and Spider couldn't stand up and he didn't know how to swim. His mask hit something hard and came flying off, whisked away into the water. The sting of whatever hit his head was enough to make him gasp and then he was maskless and underwater—

It only took twenty seconds for a human to pass out in Pandoran air. Four minutes to die. That was for a grown-up and Spider was small for his age, Norm said so just the other day.

So, he shouldn't have been surprised when black dots filled his vision and he was just . . . gone.

—

Neytiri's children had been playing in the creek with the Sky People boy all morning. She was foraging for a specific herb, at her mother's request, and all four children were blessedly entertained splashing each other. She'd agreed to take Spider with them when she left the village that morning, Norm and Max looking beyond tired. Apparently, the boy had been staying up late to stargaze, meaning that they had to stay up late making sure he didn't decide to play with any of the lab equipment (again).

She looked over at the four of them, smiling softly as Lo'ak tried to climb up his big brother, slipping and sliding all over. A glint of yellow flashed in her peripheral and she turned away from them, smiling when she found the herb she'd been looking for all morning. It was perfect timing, too, right before they would head back to the village for lunch. She'd settle Lo'ak down for a nap, but Kiri and Neteyam would probably insist on trying to help her prepare their midday meal. She'd have to leave out some seasonings if she was going to feed Spider, but—

Kiri screamed. It wasn't the high-pitched squealing thing she'd been doing a few minutes before, when Spider and Neteyam had splashed her simultaneously. It was one of fear.

She whipped around, looking for an animal or injury or something. Her three children seemed uninjured, but they were splashing around wildly, looking for something.

For someone.

She was in the water before she could think, practically diving downstream. The water reached her knees at it's deeper point, too tall for the Sky Child. She should've known the current would pull him, that he was too small still, too young.

She caught a flash of pink skin and blond hair and reached down, pulling the limp boy from the water. His lips were turning blue and his mask was gone. She must've shouted for Neteyam to grab the spare hanging from the tree, because in the ten steps in took her to get back to her children, he'd climbed up and grabbed it, flipping switches on the battery back she didn't know he knew how to use.

She didn't let him go as she reached for the mask, able to hold him in one arm as she pressed the device to his face.

Please, please, she silently begged, praying. Her children were watching, the boy was . . . he was too fragile to be in such a place. She was foolish to bring him out of the safety of the lab.

Spider took in a sudden choking gasp of air, turning on his side. He coughed once, twice, water and spit hitting the inside of hie mask. He grimaced, before sinking into Neytiri's arms, falling back asleep instantly. She let out a sigh of relief, rocking back on his heels.

"He's alright, he's alright." She promised, looking at each of her children. Kiri was crying and her boys didn't look far behind.

She led the home without complaint from anyone, something that would be unusual under other circumstances. She went straight to the shack, meeting Norm inside the airlock. She handed him over easily, clenching her fists to hide how her hands shook.

She remembered Jake, nearly dying in his human body. Frail and desperate for air. Spider was a child, barely more than a baby. She could barely stand watching her mate suffer through humanity. It would be cruel to make her children grow up along someone bound to die painfully. (It would be unbearable for her to take in the human as her own, like Jake had been hinting at for years now, if she would just lose him).

Idk what this is, it's like 4 am and I had an idea. Please forgive any typos, I'm too tired to proofread atm.

#avatar #atwow spider #spider avatar #avatar way of water #atwow fanfiction #miles spider socorro #spider #avatar fanfiction #atwow

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sketchedboba · 1 year

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*internal screaming*

I refused to draw her canon design, sorry not sorry for those that wanted to see that

I STRUGGLED with making my version because I really REALLY didn't want to put her in heels.

Her canon one reminds me of kids taking their parents clothes to try on, but where would she even get them from.. and the damned LIPS

UGH my literally anger at seeing so many POC anime characters with these damned lips (that's a whole other rant)

ANYWAYS, she is actually a mushroom kingdom egg. It's actually been established (at least in the Paper Mario franchise) that there are some Koopa and Goomba living in the mushroom kingdom. I do like to think she hatched there and was found at a young age. She is posh because she believes that since she originated there that she's above most of the Koopalings.

Resulting in her standing up straighter and not fully wearing the spiked bracelets and accessories associated with high ranked Koopas or her siblings. She doesn't dislike them, but the group does make fun of her trying to act like she's "better" (mostly just mimicking her when she's scolding one of them)

Four outta seven are done!! Next is Iggy, my second favorite of the seven.

I'm considering making a comic about Bowser finding the eggs once I finish these,but idk if anyone wants to see that. Also Luigi's lil moments as a somewhat second dad. I have silly lil comics in my mind 😂

#the koopalings #look at these cuties #wendy koopa #lemmy koopaling #ludwig koopaling #morton koopa jr #smol lil Lemmy #mmmmmm #bowuigi #super mario bros #bowser #his kids

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epersonae · 2 months

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five fic friday

I haven't done this in ages, and honestly I meant to last Friday but [waves vaguely at idk whatever]; I have quite the backlog of things I like that I want to share, so! looks like this week is a batch of post-s2 fic:

Fortunate (T, 3797) by @jellybeanium124 - oh man. the first of a pair of "Stede's having a time post-canon" fics, and this one I had to read on two separate occasions because I was having a time the first time and just kinda froze. hahahaha stede's doing great everything's fine nope no issues at all (lying). it's very good.

gonna build you up, gonna help you believe (T, 7936) by @saltpepperbeard - the second on that theme: I think I've read this one like four times. the way that a social interaction kicks open all of Stede's anxieties, mannnnnnnnnn.

Caution: Spider on Board (T, 2756) by @yergink - I love the way this kind of silly story about Ed and spiders becomes a really thoughtful meditation on danger and fear and identity.

I hope that someone gets my... (T, 1545) - a lovely little piece about remembering why you love someone and getting through boring little stresses, featuring one of Stede's letters.

The Inn By The Sea (M, 21k) - A truly fantastic plotty innkeepers era fic, the story is compelling, the narrative voices (both Ed and Jeffery Fettering!) are incredibly vivid, the dialogue is sharp as hell. THIS IS SO GOOD AND I NEED EVERYONE TO READ IT IMMEDIATELY. I'm genuinely angry, not at anyone, but just that the vibes were apparently such that the author felt they needed to stop posting. Apparently the rest of the story will be available as a Google Doc? I believe I remember who the author is on here, but out of respect for the anonymizing that happened after I started reading, I'm not going to link them. In any case, I am legit obsessed and I need y'all to join me in my obsession.

#I refuse to say “post-canon” about fic set after s2 #I'm just saying #five fic friday #ofmd #ofmd fic #yeah ok I saw a bunch of other people doing “fic friday” and went “hey I used to do that” 😅#maybe next week I'll do a batch of modern AUs because I have a bunch of those bookmarked #fwiw I have *186* fics tagged as “five fic friday” in my bookmarks!

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the-au-collector · 8 months

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Epic: The Musical and Linked Universe

So I’m sure someone else noticed this already but Epic: The Musical gives off Linked Universe vibes. So I’m honor of the Circe Saga releasing next week, I thought I’d put in my 2 cents about what songs I associate with each Link (+some non-canon LU Links). There’s a bit of another LU-Links-reunite AU building up in my head but there’s no real direction yet so have this brain vomit instead:

- The Horse and The Infant - Warriors. So this goes into my headcanon that Warriors is the hero of 10,000 years ago. No I have no foundation for that theory. It just IS. Anyways he’s fighting the Yiga with an army of Gerudo and Hylians. He has to kill the Yiga leader’s son, who’s the new incarnation of Ganondorf. The kid is an infant. I don’t think I need to explain more but yeah.

- Just A Man - Hyrule. This song is the ultimate Hyrule song for me. It explains his character in my Relinked AU too. It’s just… it’s Hyrule’s song. As for the story based off of Epic: The Musical itself, I think he’s running from some sort of war in his Hyrule (either a civil war or a war with Calatia). The details aren’t that clear yet, other than he kills someone and feels bad about it.

- Full Speed Ahead - Wind. Need I say more?

- Warrior of the Mind - our first non-canon Link: First! I Imagine First and Hylia kicking ass together during this song

- Polyphemus - Okay, we’re getting into true AU territory with this one, but this is Twilight’s song. He’s trying to piece together the Mirror of Twilight again and accidentally angers a Hinox or other large monster. With him is Dusk, Rusl (or maybe Colin), and Dusk is stabbed at the end. That’s all I’ve got for this one.

- Survive - Time. And this one has a Story. Ganondorf attacks Time’s castle town with an army of Gerudo and monsters. Time and the Sages fight him off but at the last second he breaks free and slaughters everyone, including Time. However, just as the song ends (the point where Polyphemus falls asleep), Zelda rewinds time and sacrifices herself to seal Ganondorf into the Mirror of Twilight. This is the moment the Downfall Timeline is created too.

- Remember Me - Our second non-canon Link, Shadow! He, Four, Dot, and others are fighting this monster. The Four Sword shatters, Shadow takes charge but in the end wants to do the noble thing. Oh and he gives his name as “Link” and not Shadow (or Shade, as Four’s beginning to call him in my headcanon)

- My Goodbye - Legend and Fable have a falling out. Legend’s sick of feeling used because he’s the hero, so he decides he’s had enough.

- Storm - Our third non-canon Link, Age! Basically a Tears of the Kingdom scenario except Age and his Zelda (Fauna) never went down below the castle. He never loses his arm and Fauna never goes to the past, but they have to evacuate Hyrule to the sky with the help of the Light Dragon who clears the way.

- Luck Runs Out - Sky and Groose. Idk what went down in Sky’s Hyrule but they’re having a disagreement about how Sky’s handling it.

- Keep Your Friends Close - Our last non-canon Link, Spirit! This one also has some story behind it to make the song fit. Idk why, but he and his Zelda (Phantom) have gone to speak to their Wind God, Zephos (the same from Wind Waker) who gives them a challenge. They fail and Spirit gets separated from the group. I imagine it might have something to do with Ganondorf who’s still stuck under the receding Great Sea.

- Ruthlessness - This absolute bop goes to Four. It’s also a follow-up to Remember Me, so that means the monster Shadow refused to kill is Special. Related in some way to Fierce Deity special. So the story here is after the encounter with the monster, Four, Shadow, and others (I’m debating giving Vaati a redemption arc?) decide to try to get help from the god Fierce Deity. Except Deity is pissed because he thinks Four is a weakling when it was actually Shadow who took the blame for what happened to the monster. Fierce slaughters all of Four and Shadow’s men, Four seals himself into the Four Sword to distract/hurt Fierce, and Shadow escapes but feels really guilty.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’ll add the Circe Saga when it comes out.

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