#nerve imagines

[lokorum]

"oh минем сөекле дустым, they're going to burn us"

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

[ ID in ALT ]

he giggles

[lighteyed]

you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington

summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls

He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.

"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.

"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.

He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.

"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.

You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"

He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.

You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.

"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.

"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.

"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.

The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.

At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.

"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.

"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.

The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.

When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.

He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?

"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.

"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"

"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.

As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.

"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."

"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.

"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.

"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.

"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.

He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."

"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."

"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"

"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."

His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"

Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.

"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.

The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."

He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.

[oniliae]

if ithink abt them toomuch I throew up . 💞💗💓 ough. ft tim cameo ily tim

[kesoyotes]

@tmaynt Challenge: Day 26 - Favorite Series

I wouldn't be half the artist I am today had it not been for me catching the premiere of the 2012 series all those years ago. that show still means everything to me

[puppyeared]

Nick and Pearls

[little-pondhead]

I have a simple fascination and joy in the thought that, for the Ghost King AU, most of the time Danny is literally so normal compared to other ghosts.

Like, he’s a kid. He looks like a kid. Going by canon appearances, he is the most human looking ghost we see (aside from Ellie). Even Plasmius is more inhuman, which is where all the vampire jokes come from. Every single one of this enemies is off even in a human disguise. They’re not human, and people don’t expect them to be.

So aside from the implications of Danny looking like a child ghost, I wonder what other characters would think if they summon the Ghost King, expecting this huge monstrosity worse than anything they’ve ever seen, and getting a totally normal human-looking kid.

I’d be terrified. Because if horror movies have taught us anything, it’s that the most innocent and normal looking people are the worst monsters you’ve ever seen.

Like, what is he hiding??

[engagemythrusters]

the obscene amount of chronic pain Luke Skywalker must face...

[thefrsers]

#help her jesus #her children are idiots

[antiqua-lugar]

I'm so tired of people playing Sorcerers and getting upset when Gale clarifies they needed someone studied in magic and being like "But I am sooo much better than a wizard, I was born with it!"

Girl, you might be *check notes* magic incarnate but that means absolutely nothing when he is looking for an academic

"But I was born good at magic!"

Okay, and I was born a native Italian speaker, however if an academic asked me if I have studied Italian I would have to say no, because academically I have not. I don't know a single italian linguist. I don't know how we went from indio european to latin to Italian. I don't even know why sardo is a language and bergamasco is a dialect. I forgot all the grammar I had to learn. Sometimes I talk to Tuscans and I do not understand them. it's almost like those are two entirely different things

[2knightt]

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ ‘you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever.’⋄ 𓍯

𖦆 ː you and ponyboy went out to watch the sunset together when you’re mistaken as a couple. ♡🎀 ໋֢ 𖥻

…this is totally TOTALLY last minute for @rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me ’s event. but like go support them and the other talented writers who have done this. dillo was, and still is, my biggest inspiration for this account.‧₊˚ ✩

“my, aren’t you two just the cutest?”

the old ladies cooed, soft smiles on their faces. they thought they were complimenting a cute, teenage, drunk in love couple.

you and ponyboy just sat there, feeling awkward. of course, you two were the only ones that felt it in the air.

“..huh?”

you were the first one to speak up—confusion written all over your face. you wanted to ask how they came to that conclusion, but the position you two were in weren’t helping.

it’s almost sunset, the park is empty besides you and pony (plus the old ladies) and you sat on the same bench, maybe a little too close together.

“oh gods—i remember when me and my first husband were like you two. don’t you remember, mary?”

“how couldn’t i? he was all you ever talked about. the boy looks an awful like him, too.”

ponyboy’s lips were tightened as he looked toward you, his eyebrows pinched together.

‘what’s happening?😧’

‘i don’t fucking know.🧍‍♀️’

the two of you mouthed as they went on about the lady’s first husband. as soon as they finished, they turned their attentions back to you.

“oh, don’t mind us! you two were just too cute not to compliment. it’s so nice to see that real love still exists in this generation.”

her friend nodded. you just wanted to evaporate. it was a little embarrassing, sure. and as much as you’d hate to admit it—it was kinda sweet.

god forbid two best friends wanna hang out, is what you thought.

THEY THINK WE’RE A COUPLE😍😍🥰🥰, is what ponyboy was thinking.

the old ladies began to walk away after spouting more praises to the both of you, calling you the cutest couple they’d seen in a long time.

you wanted to tell them that you weren’t dating ponyboy—that you were just friends trying to watch the sunset.

but you couldn’t. it was nice to hear that, in a weird way. your eyes shifted toward ponyboy as he watched them walk away, noticing a more details to him than before.

the red strands in his hair was more apparent when the sun was setting rather than when it was fully out. the dirty, navy blue sweater he wore brought out his eyes more than anything.

‘they thought we were a couple. does that mean i have a chance?? is this a sign??? do i have to start praying???🤔😨’ ponyboy thought as you started to fall for him, the same way he did a long time ago.

sure, he might’ve fell for you first—but you definitely fell harder.

[dejasenti99]

x

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[masarrysversion]

daylight

summary: love story of sir lewis hamilton x singer-songwriter!reader

inspiration: madame taylor swift’s discography. her new songs “you’re losing me” // her old songs

author’s note: this is my very first social media au ♡ must admit that I’m not satisfied with it and the end was rushed :/ taylor swift released a new song “you’re losing me” and I’ve seen many parallels with her old songs so I wanted to make an AU but with a different timeline than TS’s real timeline

face claim: chloe bailey 

SEPTEMBER

yourusername

Liked by zendaya and 5 345 851 others

yourusername Surprise!!

Out NOW the new version of my album called Midnights (The Til Dawn Edition) 💙

This edition has a never before heard track called “You’re Losing Me” and it is the official third single from Midnights!!! (Link in bio)

View all 32 377 comments

ynfan IM BAWLING THE SONG IS HEARTBREAKING

loveyn if you have ever been in a relationship that slowly died in front of you while you tried everything to save it but they acted like nothing was wrong, don’t listen to “you’re losing me” you’ll be agonising

midnightslover “I wouldn’t marry me either” anyone would be lucky to marry you, Y/N 😢

user1 you deserve someone who considers you and praises you for existing

yourusername

Liked by elliegoulding, lewishamilton and 3 465 834 others

yourusername THANK YOU SO MUCH, @brits 💖 I can’t believe ‘You’re Losing Me’ won International Song. This song means SO much to me!! The brit is already safe and warm on a shelf at home. What a magical night and what an honour to have been presented this award by two people I highly respect and admire, @elliegoulding & @lewishamilton 🙏

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lewishamilton 💜😍

Liked by yourusername

lewis44ham well... it sure is a normal way to answer an artist you’ve just met... 👀

LHmercfan @lewis44ham Lewis has always been nice like that with everyone lol. It doesn’t mean anything!

ynlover u deserve it so much!!

user47 you transforming your heartbreak into art and getting recognition for it just makes me happy

-

NOVEMBER

enews

45 295 likes

enews DATING RUMORS ALERT 🚨 Sir Lewis Hamilton and Y/N were spotted entering a building in Manhattan's Greenwich Village.

It seems like Y/N has made Cornelia Street her temporary abode for a few weeks now as her Tribeca property is undergoing a renovation. 

View all 3410 comments

lavendrshaze NO WAY NO WAY NO WAY

lewissnation They’re not just rumors imo. They have been interacting so much on social media lately!

formulamilton true lmao. and no wonder lewis has posted so many thrist traps since september 🤔

-

MARCH

-

JULY

yourusername

Liked by lewishamilton and 8 416 478 others

yourusername Hi loves, my brand new album ‘wholeheartedly’ will be out this friday. Hope you’ll like it as much as I loved creating it ♡

Comments on this post have been limited.

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1 YEAR LATER

lewishamilton

Liked by yourusername and 23 456 120 others

lewishamilton Y/N Hamilton, I would marry you endlessly.

You’re way better than a dream. 🤤

I always knew I was a lucky man but when I met you, I understood that I was the luckiest man ever. Fighting and hardwork have always be in my DNA and yet, fighting for your love and happiness everyday is like no other fights I experienced. It still is my best fight to this day. I will never stop working hard to be worthy of your love and consideration. I thought I had everything until you swept me off my feet at the Brits and finally made me complete that night. 

I love you. Thank you for making me and Roscoe your family, @username 😍❤️

Ps: I never thought I would have love songs written about me. In complete awe of your talent 😳

View all 364 924 comments

yourusername You and Roscoe are the loves of my life. I’m the one who is thankful for you, for having found the perfect human being. I have so much love, respect and admiration for you that it is unimaginable. I love you with all of my heart 💜

189 989 likes

[originalartblog]

I don't have a caption for this (original)

[aouiaa]

ramble one. ramble two. prologue. e.w ml. — ©AOUIAA 2024

AUTHOR’S NOTE — this itself deserves a post bc this is single handily the best piece of work done by @les4elliewilliams! thank you a million times again for taking the time OUT OF YOUR DAY to make this for me!!! I love you and your stupidly amazing hands that worked tiredly to make this. GOD LOOK AT THE FUCKING DETAIL AHHH!!! I’ll be using all in some form, making a little drabble for each. :3 You’ve exceeded my expectations to the literal highest point that you broke the fucking meter. AGAIN with all honesty and only, you truly are an artist, mwah, mwah, MWAH! also, yes, to confirm any lingering questions (if any) this is gonna be a series! I’ll be making the masterlist soon possibly, keep an eye out!

[artemismoorea03]

DP x DC (Or Marvel) Prompt: Pirate of the Underworld

(Again, this can work for either and I have no issues people changing up which Fandom they use because they're both good)

Youngblood was a great kid and that would never change. That being said he was a Ghost kid with a huge imagination and because he was a kid a lot of ghosts would play with him. Not normally a problem until Youngblood, Ember, Skulker, Kitty and Johnny decided to 'play' together in an alternate dimension after going through a natural portal!

But there they were,continuing to play and raise hell for a dimension who had little to no experience with the Ghost Zone. Thankfully, Danny had plenty of experience dealing with all of them, and while he wasn't used to it being so public he wasn't about to let the five (six counting Youngbloods bird-thing) torment this new dimension.

Now if only the heroes from this dimension would stop trying to interfere.

----

The last thing Bruce expected to see in the Gotham Harbor was a massive glowing pirate ship that seemed to rise up out of the ocean itself before sitting in shore. He also didn't expect flying figure's to start taking 'treasures' from all throughout the city. Gold, jewels, people, anything they could get their hands on.

His city was in trouble, that's all he knew and he wasn't going to stand for it.

Now if only this weird white haired meta would stop trying to interfere and let him and his team do their jobs.